#now that it's been up for a few days i'm like oh wait it's not that bad actually it's pretty good

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

SUBTLE IS A STRONG WORD

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe uses a tiktok trend to his advantage.

based on this request !! i hope it’s what you asked for @ursogorgeous13 , i decided to take the fluff route because it just worked :) I AM BACK THOUGH !! please read the authors note at the bottom !! <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: allusions to sex (oral m!rec), flirty!rafe, just pure fluff !! (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 800 words (approx.)

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N was curled up on Rafe's couch, scrolling through her phone while waiting for him to get back with their coffee. The AC was blasting, the distant sound of waves from Figure Eight's beach hummed in the background, and the scent of Rafe's cologne still lingered on his hoodie that she had stolen.

It was one of those lazy afternoons where neither of them had anywhere to be, so they had fallen into their usual routine: Y/N begged for coffee, Rafe pretended to complain about being her personal delivery boy, and then he left anyway because he secretly loved spoiling her.

She had spent the past few days showing him countless TikToks about the new Starbucks cup policy-baristas were now writing random little messages on cups, ranging from generic "Have a nice day!" notes to weirdly specific fortunes. She thought it was adorable. Rafe? Less so. He mostly nodded along, unimpressed, while she giggled at each new video.

But today, when he finally returned, drinks in hand, Y/N barely had time to thank him before she noticed the writing on the cups.

Her curiosity piqued, she reached for her cup first, eyes scanning the message.

"Give your bf a BJ❤️”

She blinked. Then, suspicious, she grabbed Rafe's cup.

"A BJ is coming your way❤️”

For a moment, she just stared at them, processing. And then, slowly, a grin stretched across her face.

"You have got to be kidding me." She turned the cups toward him, raising an eyebrow.

Rafe, the smug bastard, didn't even try to look innocent. If anything, he looked proud of himself.

"What?" he said, flopping onto the couch next to her, taking his drink from her hand.

Y/N bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Rafe."

"Mm?"

"These messages." She tapped a finger against the cup. "You do realise I can recognise your handwriting, right?"

Rafe choked on his sip, coughing dramatically before shooting her an unconvincing look of confusion. "Pfft. What? That's-Y/N, that's wild. You think / wrote that?"

"Yes, I know you wrote it."

"You don't know that," he countered, but the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

Y/N leaned in, tilting her head. "So you're telling me that the coffee shop employees, out of the kindness of their hearts, just randomly decided to write this on our cups?"

"Sounds like it," he said, nodding solemnly. "Real ones. We should tip them."

Y/N burst out laughing. "Rafe! You're ridiculous."

"I'm a visionary, actually." He leaned back, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. "I'm just taking advantage of an opportunity when I see one."

She smirked, setting her drink down before shifting closer to him. "So, let me get this straight... You went through the trouble of faking a Starbucks trend just so you could subtly ask for-"

“'Subtly' is a strong word," Rafe interrupted, grinning. "I think it was actually pretty direct."

YN shook her head, chuckling. "You do realise I could have been the one to grab the drinks, right? What if you weren't able to intercept them first?"

Rafe shrugged. "Then I'd be in jail for public indecency, but it would've been worth it."

She laughed, shaking her head at him. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet, you're still here." He shot her a wink.

"Against my better judgment."

"Oh, please. You love it."

Y/N bit her lip, pretending to consider. "Mmm, maybe."

Rafe smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Sooo... you gonna listen to the cup's advice or what?"

She gasped dramatically. "Rafe Cameron! | am shocked that you would ever suggest such a thing."

"Shocked?" He arched a brow. "Y/N, you're literally straddling me right now."

“…Touché."

Rafe chuckled, his hands settling on her waist as she playfully toyed with the collar of his polo shirt.

"You know what would be funny?" she mused.

"If you actually followed through?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. "No, dumbass. Next time, I should be the one to write something on the cups."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what would you write?"

She leaned in, her lips just brushing his ear as she whispered, "No blowjobs for guys who fake Starbucks messages."

Rafe groaned. "Alright, you got me. That was a dirty trick."

Y/N smirked, patting his cheek. "And yet, you're still here."

He exhaled a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. "Fine, fine. But just so you know-" He gestured to the cups on the table. "—the next one's definitely gonna say 'Marry your boyfriend!"

Y/N snorted. "Smooth."

"I try."

And with that, he flipped them over, pressing her into the couch as she giggled beneath him.

Yeah, she was definitely writing the next one.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

hi everyone !! i’m back of holiday and i’m also older now (i had my 20th birthday !!), so sorry for going MIA but i just stayed off social media for my entire birthday trip but i’m going to be back to regular posts and updates <3

my drew starkey fic inspired by ‘sports car’ by tate mcrae will be up soon, been working on it today !! fulfilling requests at the moment so there should be another one up tonight :)

(a reminder that is is strictly fictional guys !!)

[the-palelady]

You were a nurse at what could barely be called a clinic, simply a little office inside the just as meager town hall. However, you still took your job seriously, tending to your patient’s one by one, never allowing any of them to step outside of the clinic until they were glowing like the afternoon sun sitting high in the sky when it was right at its peak.

You didn’t hear the trudge of his boots, and the jingle of his spurs when he first stepped inside your corner of the building. Your focus was settled on the woman before you, one palm resting idly on her swollen belly whilst you went about the regular check of her vitals.

“How are you doing besides all this?” you asked her with a smile, grabbing your notes, and tapping them on the table beside you.

“Everythin s’alright. Just can’t wait for this little stinker to hurry on out.” You and the young woman giggle together at her statement, your hand pressing against the hand sitting on her belly.

“Any day now and they’ll be with us. Just take it easy, and leave the heavy lifting to that husband of yours, hm?” Joining hands, you help her stand while she lets out another laugh. The two of you exchange a few more words before she bids you goodbye.

The office was now silent save for the tap of your pen meeting paper as you wrapped up the rest of your notes, and your hushed murmuring.

But when you turned to face the rest of the office, the dark figure sitting on a chair in the corner of the room hardly registers to you.

First you do a double take, then you squeal. The book that housed your notes clambers to the floor, bouncing once and then lying open on the wood floors.

"How...How long have you-"

"Not long, ma'am."

Ghost he called himself. Fitting since that is how he showed up in town; metastasizing from nothing, joining the daily squabble of the little town you called home as if he had lived there his entire life.

Now here he sat in your office, handkerchief wrapped around the palm of his hand, the tanned fabric fading into a dark shade of red.

You barely paid any mind to his words, your brain solely fixating on the wound that he had lazily wrapped. Your feet moved with a mind of their own, leading you to the sterile needles and thread that sat on the doctor's surgical tray.

Blood was no stranger to you. This was the west. People came and went with wounds of different calibers every week, so a simple gash to the palm of someone's hand was nothing.

You go into autopilot, paying no mind to the curious look Ghost gives you when you pull up a chair in front of him, grabbing his wrist with a delicacy you gave all of your patient's bleeding or not.

The wound itself was still bleeding, however not as much as it clearly had been before. It was a nasty, deep cut that made even you wince at the sight.

"I'm going to clean this up as best as I can. Just be still. It might sting a bit." You peeked up from under your lashes, not expecting him to already be staring at you, his dark gaze forcing your skin to heat up a few degrees.

"Do what ya need to do, doc."

A breathy laugh left you, "Hardly a doctor. I'm just a nurse. The doctor's out doing house calls at the moment."

He hums in response, and observes you silently while you go about tending to the gash. You've done this long enough that it doesn't take much time for you to get the wound cleaned up and sutured, wrapping gauze around the width of his hand.

"Work just s'well as a doctor. Maybe faster."

His words pull you from your haze, a deep rumble that has your grip on his warm hand loosening.

"O-Oh...I've just done this a lot." You bite the inside of your cheek at the sound of your stuttering.

The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable, but it's unwelcome. You can hear the blood flowing in your ears, your brain working overtime to get you to speak up. Your painfully aware of his hand that is still resting in the palm of yours.

"Thanks for the patch up," Ghost stands, and that's when the words finally find you.

"No need to thank me," your movements match his, coming to your full height, "just make sure to keep it cleaned. Try to avoid doing anything that'll open the sutures. If it does open and starts bleeding again cover it with these."

You press some gauze into the unwounded hand, and he gives you a simple nod.

Taking a step back your able to fully see him, his amber colored eyes that were once so easy to see now hidden by the shadow of the hat that rested on top of his head. The rest of his face was obscured by a black bandana, the fabric dirtied from a long day of work.

"Well then," you start, "if you need anything else feel free to come back in. I'm sure the doctor would be more than happy to help you."

He considers your words for a moment, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you.

"And what if it's not the doctor I want help from?"

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"You are." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

To Daryl, you are different, you are special, you are everything. But when his jealousy over a "prank" from your friend leads to a misunderstanding you can't resolve, and an incident the next day that nearly costs you your life, it causes Daryl to have a huge revelation about his feelings for you.

@artsynana: heyy dear!! i was wondering if you could ever write something with some soft jealous daryl x reader at the prison era, btw i love the way you write daryl🥰

A/N: Hi love. First, sorry! I didn't know you had left a request :( but thank you so much for doing it. This is a little short and different :( and a little more dramatic, but I really hope you like it♥ And for your words, thank u again! I think I write Daryl a little bit off the character, but I guess it's because I picture him like that hehe

Daryl Dixon is not a possessive person, never, but he is not made of steel either, that’s way he’s unable to stop jealousy from creeping up on him.

The night is ending inside the prison, the heat of the day floating in the air, but the still warm weather seems to hang over Daryl almost in a suffocating way. As he continues to wait for his dinner, he has a panoramic view of you across the dining room, sitting in the long steel chair, elbows on the table, always accompanied by that pretty boy Sean, with his stupid green eyes and that stupid smile, following you ever since Daryl rescued his group from the governor.

And Daryl hates not being able to hate you for the senseless jealousy that you make him feel now, as he thought he did in the past.

Daryl hated ​​you for being a badass, like the afternoon you showed up to save his ass back in Atlanta, like a force of nature, like a fucking storm–sweeping away the little peace he managed to find at the end of the world, shaking his own with your magnetic presence. But he also hated how your strong gaze could rest, turning you into an angel when he could see the tenderness in your soft smile, and your dreamy eyes when things got a little bit better in that grey world.

The secret of his hate was because of your selfishness, your wild and free heart, and that fucking dimple that formed on your left cheek, so yeah, he fell hard for that, he fell hard for you. But no one knew about your relationship, everyone blind to those little displays of affection: the casual brush of your hands, the secret smiles, the way his hand rested on the side of your neck before he kissed you.

“You are like… staring much. Don't you think?" Carol chuckles beside him, making Daryl look away from you as he takes his plate. "Damn, pookie, you are not subtle at all."

She continues with the bland jokes; the same ones she’s been making since Carol caught the way Daryl looked at you.

"Shut up." He hisses, turning his attention back to the food.

But Carol is not ready to give up.

"I once read that when a feeling is silenced, bottled up or imprisoned, the eyes, the lover’s gazes scream everything."

Daryl frowns, confused.

"What the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout?"

She chuckles, crossing her arms.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that maybe you should start making it clear to everyone that (Y/N) is with you."

He clears his throat, but the heat on his cheeks burns more than the sun on that season.

"Ya knew?"

"No. You just told me." Carol turns around towards the pot to serve herself a plate, Daryl narrowing his eyes at her, even if she isn’t looking at him.

"But, uh... like what?" He asks after a few seconds, hoping that Carol will understand the question without him having to spell it out for her.

She shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe approach her not only when you two are alone.”

Carol smiles at Daryl, walking away to leave him with the weight of his thoughts.

Daryl Dixon is a strong man, to survive, to protect, but as a boy who grew tall but is still a boy on the inside, he feels lost with the feelings he keeps inside him, not knowing what to do with them. He had had casual encounters in bars, but was too drunk to even remember, to even care about them. But you are different, you are special, you are everything. That’s why, even with his heart hammering in his chest, Daryl walks over to the last table, eyes fixed on your profile, his sometimes noisy mind disappearing the rest as he sets his plate down on the table before sitting down next to you, ignoring the confused look from Sean, who was silent for a second in shock before resuming his story of a past life on his farm with the rest.

“The lake water is cold during that season…” He keeps talking, oblivious to the way you hold your breath when you feel Daryl's fingers on your lower back.

But out of nowhere, his hand begins to seek out the skin beneath, a light touch over the edge of your black t–shirt until he finds the warmth of your flesh. Your back arches slightly beneath his calloused fingers on your skin, but you try to control your body as your dirty thoughts begin to overflow.

The small group is so wrapped up in the funny anecdote that no one notices the way Daryl leans in close.

"Breathe, peach, ‘fore ya pass out."

His words are the jolt back to reality, and you let out a breath as you squint, your hand darting from your lap to his leg, only to pinch his skin over his pants with your fingers. As a reflex, his leg jumps slightly, but Daryl takes the attack with a smirk that is almost imperceptible to the rest of them, but not to you.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Sean glances in your direction, catching your gaze and a confused expression that silently prompts him to repeat his question. "You told me you dated a guy who looked like me."

Confused, you clear your throat.

“Yeah. Uh, but we separated long before all this...”

Mary nods, a young woman who came with Sean’s group.

“Wow. He must have been really handsome. But did you love him, (Y/N)?”

Your skin feels cold again when Daryl's hand leaves your body, even if your skin feels boiling hot when the attention falls on you like the midday sun in that stifling season. As if someone had put their hand on your throat until it was blocked from air, your uncomfortable laughter comes out muffled, but you don’t answer before changing topics. But it's sad that after a short while, Daryl stands up to go to his own cell, his thoughts run wild about the jealousy he feels about that guy, thinking that there was someone who made you feel something when, for him, you were his first everything.

When dinner time is over and everyone returns to their cells, you find yourself timidly entering Daryl's cell only because his door was still open, but staying close to it. He’s lying on his back, eyes fixed on the arrow in his hands just to keep himself busy.

“Hey. Uh, can we talk?”

“’bout what?”

His voice is flat, not a single emotion in it.

“About what happened in the dining room with Sean.”

 “What ‘bout it?”

You shrug, even if he isn’t looking at you.

“Don’t know exactly, but I think I made you feel uncomfortable.”

Daryl scoffs.

“Ya didn't make me feel anythin’.”

His words form a lump in your throat, completely silencing the truth you were going to tell, just because your own anxious mind tells you that you don't make him feel anything, at all, like never, and that is painful.

“Okay, uh, I don’t want to force you to talk so… I guess I’m gonna go. Oh, we'll leave early tomorrow for the run, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You sigh, walking away.

But jealousy is an irrational force, but a force of nature that resembles a hurricane, or any destructive phenomenon inside a timid and fearful mind: that’s why when the early morning arrives and the first ray of sun shines on the horizon, Daryl decides to switch places with Glenn, just so he wouldn't be stuck with his thoughts of you in a car for hours.

However, the day grows tedious for him, even in the small details like the wind blowing dust into his face, or the way the walkers keep piling up against the fence, taking the place of the lifeless body when Daryl stabs his knife into their skulls. But before his ocean–blue eyes can see the car returning at a worrying speed, his ears can hear the horn, like a desperate call that makes his heart wake up frantically.

“Someone is hurt.” Carol tells him, a second before they start running towards the main fence.

Maggie and Rick are closer and they open the gates, the car raising tornadoes of dust until it stopped inside the prison. Michonne steps out of the passenger seat as Daryl and Carol arrive to meet her, Bob and Glenn following as she begins to narrate the horror story.

“… and one of those men was behind me, (Y/N) shot him but another stabbed her in the abdomen.”

The back door of the car is open, but like a roller coaster of emotions, Daryl’s heart is so up that it threatens to stop because of the fear, as if it stopped pumping blood to replace it with an infinite void. But he refuses to listen to the death whispering in his ear that you won’t make it as he carries you, arms under your shoulders and knees.

“Call Hershel!” He says, to whoever is faster as Daryl starts waking fast, because, even though he wants to run to catch the seconds that seem to slip away, your body feels as fragile as porcelain.

And it’s crazy, it’s wild the way Herself has to perform a surgery to control the bleeding on the same table where the night before your and his playful fingers had teased each other, minutes before ruining it all with your silence and his jealousy. But when it's all over and the madness has cleared like a thick fog, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, taking in the way your closed eyelids make you look like you're just asleep and not unconscious.

“She will make up, Daryl.” Carol says softly, standing close to him. “It’s late, you should rest.”

He shakes his head.

“Nah. I’m stayin’ here with her. Don’ want her to be alone when she does.”

Carol nods, knowing perfectly nothing will change his mind.

“Okay, Pookie, I will come to check on you both in the morning.”

She kisses his forehead, but Daryl is too absent to notice as she leaves the room. The entire prison falls into a deep sleep, and Daryl can hear the almost imperceptible sound of your breathing fighting against the almost deafening silence of his world, telling him without words that you are there, and that you are not going anywhere. But after a while, Daryl lies down on his right side, still close to the edge of the bed to give you all the space you needed, but able to leave only that small space between his body and yours.

“Fuck… now I know I love ya, peach.” He whispers, shy and scared you can hear him even like that. “That seems to be the only answer to why I almost lost ma shit when I saw ya there… bleedin’ out. Jesus, ya would probably laugh if ya saw me here now scared to death like a damn child.” Daryl tries to laugh, a nervous little laugh that falls to a heavy sigh. “Please, wake up, okay? I promise I’ll be better.”

But since there is no answer from the other end, his words hang in the air for the rest of the night, even after Daryl falls asleep. However, as the sun begins to peek through one of the prison's tall windows one more time, your eyelids open slightly, the world in front of you blurring for an instant, until your scattered senses become one and focus on the pain pounding your abdomen.

But still, you turn your head slightly to the side when your peripheral vision catches a body beside yours, smiling weakly at the image before you. Daryl's hair covers part of his closed eyes, but his slight frown reflects his concern, even if you don't know that.

You raise your arm until your hand touches the skin of his face, soft flesh under your fingers.

“Daryl?” Your voice brings him back easily, walking him up from that terrifying dream as he sits up, his hand cupping the side of your face just to feel that you're actually awake.

"Ya okay, peach, ya okay."

“Am I? Since when I’m here?”

Daryl sighs, but he decides to mask his fear with humor, just because he feels like he can spill all his feelings for you in a single second.

“Jus' a day, but ya took yer sweet time to wake up, woman.”

“Sorry.”

You chuckle shyly, but his gaze turns soft.

“Nah. Don’t be, I’m jus’ so glad ya came back.” Concern allows him to smile slightly, before telling you that he's going to go find Hershel.

The examination lasts a few minutes, until you two are left alone, again.

“Daryl…” One more time, your voice pulls his eyes towards yours the moment he sits back down. “Sean was messing with you. You know? I was going to tell you about it that night before all this, but you didn’t want to listen and I didn’t want to push you to.”

Embarrassed, Daryl lowers his head a little bit, watching you through his long hair.

“M’ sorry, peach. I was jealous of ‘em and I ended up sayin’ the wrong shit again.”

Them.

“Daryl, that’s exactly what I was going to tell you that night. There was never another guy, Sean made up that story to get a reaction out of you because even he can see how much you want to kick his ass every time you see him coming." You chuckle. "Besides, he’s gay.”

Daryl blinks, confused like never in his life.

“He is?”

You nod.

“Yep, really gay, but don’t worry, Sean has a crush on Glenn because you look too intimidating for his like.” You want to laugh, but you can see his own shame sinking his heart heavily, feeling the pain and guilt for letting you go alone, because Daryl is a protector: that is in his nature.

And when things went wrong, that weight fell on his shoulders.

"Sorry, I think I screwed this thing between us."

And in a second and with an overwhelming strength, you can see his eyes becoming teary with all the feelings he has inside him.

"No. You didn't, Daryl, unless you want this to end."

But he shakes his head.

"No. I don' want it to ever end."

You nod softly.

"Good." When your hand catches his, Daryl clings to it, but you don't force him to talk because you know better than anyone that it was difficult for him to express himself. "Now come, lie down and try to sleep. Okay?”

He nods, laying down next to you, too overwhelmed to speak his mind at that very moment, his hand still holding yours even after he falls asleep when his mind can no longer carry the full weight of his thoughts. But while he does, you can't help but smile slightly, because now, awake, you are convinced that his voice saying I love you was not just part of the dream you were having, sweet words you hope you can tell him soon.

[mxtantrights]

Beggin' on my knees, baby won't you please

paring: Johnny Storm x fem!reader a/n: okayyyy so like I watched the trailer like everyone else and remembered how much of a crush I had on the human torch. and I would say that while writing this I could envision both the new and old castings so you can read it as who you want! I might come back to this with another piece or two. (I write with a black reader in mind but this piece doesn't specify race, only gender)

Johnny Storm has stopped at almost nothing to get you to go on a date with him. He's persistent, he's flirty, and most dangerously he's not too far off from his goal.

You had been Sue's intern since you took her class a couple of years ago at the university. She had seen in you what she knew she had in herself when she was a student. The grit, the knowledge and the courage to ask why.

She took you under her wing fairly quickly. You found her to be more of a friend than a boss. She always listened to your ideas, though she never played favorites. And she valued your input on important things.

Such as the specs for the flight she, Reed, Ben, and Johnny would be on in the coming months.

You don't really have time to be going on dates with anyone, let alone with Johnny, when you were going to be sending him along with the others into space. It kept you up at night sometimes. If your calculations were triple checked. If you had tested every hypothetical.

That is why for the past week you've been avoiding Johnny. If you see him in the caf, you go the other way and get lunch from outside. If you see him hanging around your lab you wait him out. You're quick to leave with the other workers so he won't offer you a ride.

It's been going well.

Up until now.

You manage to take another peek into the lab. The glass window that appears across from your desk. And there he is. He's sitting in your rolling chair, waiting for you. He's playing with some sort of pen. rolling it between his fingers.

If you avoided him now, he would know for sure. And you have to get to work on a quick fix on confirming the materials needed for the rocket's fins.

With about as much confidence as a cactus in a ballon party. You roll your shoulders back and tug down the white coat that shrouds you. Then you walk over to the door.

As if he's got a heightened sense, he looks up at you as you step through the threshold. You duck your head down and walk over to him. On his face is a growing smirk.

He leans back in the chair, leaning a bit, meaning he totally un-stabilized it. You'll have to re-stabilize it once he's gone.

"Where've you been?" he asks.

You huff a bit at that. As you make it over to your desk you see that's he's rearranged some stuff. You make to move past him but he just rolls with you.

"Johnny, I've been around." you answer finally.

"I know, but just not around me. Which is a same." he pouts.

You chortle, "Oh my god. You can't be serious with that one."

"About as serious as you avoiding me, Specs." he says.

You rolls your eyes. There goes that nickname. To this day you still don't understand why he calls you that. You don't wear your glasses all the time. So what gives?

"I'm just trying to get everything right, Johnny. You are going to space in a few months." you explain.

Johnny opens his legs wider and rolls the chair closer to you. At this angle he's looking right up at you. It's warm and fucking dizzying and you have to remind yourself that even though it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the lab, there are other people here. Your coworkers. His coworkers.

Sue's coworkers.

"I know, but I miss seeing my favorite girl." he admits.

And it shouldn't like it does when he says it. Like he's sharing a secret with you in the middle of the night. Like he's telling you something that is treasured and safe. If only you could tell your stomach that.

"I want you to get to and from space safety, Johnny. If I hang out with you I'll worry myself about it." you confess.

Johnny nods his head, "Okay give me a day then."

"A day for what?" you ask.

"A day where that stress is less. A day where you don't itch to be sitting at this desk and working out things in that beautiful mind of yours." he continues.

The truth is there is no day that is less stressful for you. At several points in each day since this project was announced and your name was attached, you've felt the stress of it. While cooking dinner at home. While doing laundry. While trying to get sleep so that you could get to work.

It's always there.

It's going to be there until the crew comes home from space.

You can't let Johnny know that. He has his own things to worry about. You would hate to add to his plate.

"Sunday." you answer simply.

He nods his head again. And with a smile he gets up from his seat in your chair. It's slow and agonizing how he seems to go from looking up at you to being eye level with you. His gaze never leaving yours as he does.

"I'll see you Sunday." he adds.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

69 nice / 600 words / an extra unused scene to establish Shadow!reader's (Soap's soulmate) relationship with her boss Graves; takes place before part 1

...

The soft green petal of your sniper rifle’s laser aim rests on your mark’s temple. You’ve waited the better part of an hour for Graves’ signal.

You’ve been stationed in this desert, in Al Mazrah, for 16 days. Eight of those days you’ve spent waiting for your target to appear. Now he’s here. In the enemy encampment a few hundred meters away. Your ticket out of the heat. One twitch of a finger and you could end it early. Your stomach twists with hunger. Your tongue rasps against the roof of your dry, sandy mouth.

But you wait.

"Alright. Cleared to take the shot."

Graves’ voice. The only sound besides the scrape of sand on rock in the Al Mazrah desert. That and the encampment some two thousand meters in front of you.

You take the shot. It lands. You watch the encampment through your scope as fear and cold panic spread through the others. Your interest in them wanes.

"Nice shot. Helluva shot. You're on top of your game tonight." Graves’ voice crackles again through the radio in your ear. "Must be why I pay ya the big bucks."

You pull back and lean the sniper against your shoulder. "Wouldn't say no to a pay raise, sir."

"And give you even more of a reason to be a smartass?"

"Get more kills, get more money. Isn't that how it works?"

"With what I'm paying you, you better be workin' your ass to the bone as it is."

You scoff. "When's the next job, then?"

"I'd have to check the books." Which is a lie; he knows the schedule front to back. "But I got somethin’ cooking I think you’re gonna love. Can’t give you details, though. Classified and all that."

"You got us a new contract?"

"You bet your ass I did. This one is big."

"Ah. Lucrative?"

"Enough to retire on."

"That's an interesting thought."

"Ain’t it? Retire." He rolls the word around in his mouth like a fine wine. “Doesn’t sound half-bad, does it?”

You reload your rifle idly. "Doesn't sound half-good either."

"Oh, don’t gimme that. You gonna spend the rest of your life runnin’ around, takin’ bullets till you bleed out in a ditch somewhere?"

"If I'm lucky."

"Attagirl. Come on back to base. We'll get you debriefed. Oh, and I’m thinking about sending you up for a promotion." He says it as if it’s an afterthought. "I hear the brass on this next job is looking for people a bit more qualified for contract work. I think you’re one of 'em."

"A promotion?" You hear uncertainty lapse into your own voice. "You're recommending me to work for someone else?"

"For a heretofore unknown stretch of time, yes," he says. "You’d have a fancy rank and a fancy paycheck. And you’d get to tell the boys to kiss your ass if they’re givin’ you orders. Trust me, you’ll love that part.”

"I'm not interested."

"You didn’t even let me finish. Come on. You’re not even gonna let me talk ya into this one?"

"No, sir."

"Why not? It’d be good for you. You’d be makin’ money. Doin’ yourself a favor," he says. "I’d like to see you gettin’ promoted and up outta the field. Makin’ something of yourself." Not that he’d ever admit to having a soft spot for you.

"Thank you, sir. But I don't want to work for some desk jockey. No offense."

"None taken. You sure?"

"Yes sir."

“Then don’t be comin’ back here complainin’ about not makin’ enough money, soldier."

You sling your rifle over your shoulder and begin the long walk back to the truck. "No promises."

"Smartass."

...

more Graves / more Shadow!reader :)

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :}} 💞

@peaspods

I might not be understanding, but I'm imagining this as people opening up commissions so people can give them money and they can turn around and donate that money to me..

I fear that this would create the opportunity to scam people.. "I'm taking commissions on behalf of Factual Fantasy! They're very sick so please commission me!" only for them to run away with the money they make..

I've been thinking a lot about setting up some kind of commission/donation thing because I'm starting to kind'a need the money.. but idk, I'm just kind'a run down and need some time to keep thinking about it. Thank you very much though <:)))

@zecromgen5

Thank you very much! :) And I've been hanging in there.. there hasn't been much improvement to my health or my mental state. The fact that in April it will officially been over a year since my health started to decline, and the fact that I'm going to spend my birthday at home collapsed on the couch has made me feel very sad <:( But I'm doing my best to work on it.. I'm hoping this new advice from my doctor helps me feel better <:)

And something good HAS happened actually, I got my tablet/FireAlpaca to work again! :))

XDD SJKFJSH AWW! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

I've only seen a bit of it from Markiplier. So far I'm 50/50. Somethings I like and others I don't care for 😅

@neo-metalscottic

Thank you so much! :D 'm glad you've liked my recent artwork!! :}}}}

Also for Homes eyes, that was just meant to represent its oppressive presence and the fact that its watching them in that moment.. 👁️👁️

And I don't have any plans for any of the neighbors or Wally to figure out the house is alive. My AU is more like "a day in the life of" thing. Having someone discover Home is alive would move the plot forward. Which I don't feel like doing <XDD

Now communication... Home understands the concept, but he has no way of communicating other than creaking the floorboards and slamming doors..

I've heard about the well. That could work for Cliffjumper and Breakdown maybe.. and the twins perhaps.? But wouldn't they have to have Tailgates body in order to revive him? Hmmm.. idk actually,,

I've watched the bayverse movies, most of Prime and a few other things here and there. I didn't mind the bayverse movies that much, but I can see why a lot of people don't like them <XD

I just imaging trying to consume more than one Transformers media would be a lot to take on.. and I also don't like the animation styles of most other transformers shows 😅

(That's actually how I decided to watch Prime. I took a look at all the shows and went "this one looks ugly, this one looks ugly,, this one looks REALLY ugly.. Oh, this one doesn't look half bad. TFP it is then!")

@acreaturecalledkyfa

I've watched Markipliers first video on it. So far I'm not sure how I feel about those two 😅

The way I immediately opened YouTube and went looking for it XDD

@fandomcenteral (Link in ask)

Thank you so much! :DD This will come in handy!

@mason-gaylord

Aw! Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Jangles would be a helicopter probably, Gerald would be a tank, Cici would be a Miata and Bibi would be a slightly raised up Miata XDD

Aw, I'm honored that you miss them <:}} Though I don't know if I'll draw them anytime soon.. I'm really not into inserted OCs anymore <:(

I'm waiting on Markiplier to release more videos on it <XD

@fadlingartisanfreakwinner

I like to imagine that Pokémon can learn dozens of moves. But 4 is the limit for official Pokémon battles. So any wild Pokémon in my comics can use/learn as many as they want :0

And yeah, they had that chat eventually. I just never got around to drawing it 😅

@wolfie-777

Nah nah its just iced tea XDDD

@whereismycupofcoffee

:DDD Thank you so much!! :}}}}

AAAA THANKYOU SO MCUHH!! :DDDD

@nuggybee

Yeahh,, Sky has its ups and downs. I'm currently in one of its downs. It seems like I'm let down by everything they're releasing 😓

@smithanonsworld

I feel like I've never seen a rabbit that color... its so cute 😭💞💞💞

@heaventhehedgi3

That sounds like me! Though I don't draw Octonauts anymore 😅

I'll keep it in mind! :0

🥹🥹🥹Aw... that's so sweet! Thank you so much!! 😭💞💞

@captain-skyler1987

You made an account just to follow me? :DD Aw that's so sweet! :) Thank you!

Also I'm sorry to hear you got the flu :(( I hope you're better by now!

I also have not played Dandy's world 😅

@stargirldrawsx3

The first thing that came to mind was very anxious all the time 😅

@network-warrior-01

Ah, that was an April fools post. <XD There is no drawing

[into-the-hellaverse]

Lucifer's Bad Day

Sequel to Adam's Bad Day

this... this may be a series...

I take commissions! Look at my main blog (@asmerlotus ) for details!

---------------------

Adam had become more distant over the past few months, which was understandable. After the whole ordeal with Cameron, he didn't really want to be around them.

Lucifer started sittting in the lobby, close to the fireplace with KeeKee on his lap, waiting for Adam to come down every day and hopefully getting a chance to talk things through with him. Adam would come down mid-morning, rushing past Charlie's stupid trust exercises and bonding activities, making his way out the door before Lucifer could even say a word. And Lucifer would sit there all day, refusing to eat or drink and watching the door like a hawk. He'd wait and wait late into the night, but sleep would eventually overtake him. He didn't know what time Adam came back, but every morning, at 9 am on the dot, he'd watch Adam rush out before he could say anything and stop him.

"Dad, maybe you should give up," Charlie would say every time. "If he's acting like this over a minor misunderstanding-"

"It wasn't minor to him, Charlie," Lucifer would always reply. "He didn't break our trust. We broke his. I just...need to do something to fix it." And he'd go back to staring at the door.

One day, he was forced to move from his seat, now manning the front desk. Alastor was at an Overlord meeting and Charlie took everyone out for some kind of "Good Samaritan Venture", whatever the hell that meant. At least he had a better view of the door. He was mostly bored, having been there since 5 am, and almost fell asleep standing up. It wasn't until he heard the creaking of the floor boards on the stairs that he woke up, seeing Adam coming done.

"Adam!" he said with a smile, seeing the taller man approach the desk.

Adam didn't smile. He didn't say a word. He just put a key on the desk.

Lucifer frowned and looked down. "What is this?"

"My room key, Captain Dumbfuck. I'm leaving the hotel," he said simply. "I'll finally be out of your life, forever." He turned and started to walk away.

"Wait! Adam, wait!" Lucifer jumped the counter and rushed after him, stopping him long before the door. "I want to make this up to you! Please, just listen-"

"Oh, listen to you like how you listened to me after I trashed the lobby?" Adam asked sarcastically, pushing past him to get to the door.

"I'M SORRY, OK?!" Lucifer screamed, tears falling down his rosy red cheeks. "I'M SORRY! I'M A FUCKING IDIOT! I SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO YOUR SIDE! I SHOULD'VE HEARD YOU OUT AND I DIDN'T! PLEASE, JUST TAKE ME BACK!"

Adam looked over his shoulder, a cold look in his eyes. "You're pathetic, Morningstar..."

Lucifer stared, trying to hold back his sobs in the quiet room. They stared at each other for an eternity, not saying a single word. After a long, uncomfortable silence, there was a harsh knock on the front door. Lucifer seemed to break out of his trance, drying his eyes and opening the door with a little magic.

"Are you ready to go, babe? You told me you didn't have to pack much." ...why... the fuck... was Mammon... at the front door?

"Yeah," Adam said, trowing his duffel bag onto his shoulder. "I just had to take care of a few things." He walked up to him and stood on his tiptoes to kiss the Sin.

Lucifer just stared in shock. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing. He couldn't believe it...

"Oi. If you wanna watch, you gotta pay," Mammon growled.

"Mamm, baaaabe," Adam said with a small blush.

"What? If he wants to gawk at a beautiful thing like you, he should fork over some cash, Addy."

Lucifer felt his heart break and his fists tighten. Only he could call Adam that...

"C'mon, let's not bother him anymore. We should go." Adam pushed him out the door. "I gotta take care of a few more things. I'll meet you at the car."

"Don't keep me waiting! Gas is fucking expensive!"

"I won't!" Adam shut the door and turned back to Lucifer, glaring.

Lucifer tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "H-How... How long-"

"About a month or two. He heard from a friend of a friend that I was a good guitar player. Came to check me out to be performer in his stupid clown thing and we hit it off," Adam said.

"I..."

"I swear to fucking God, if you say you're sorry one more time."

Lucifer shut his mouth, trying to think of something else. "Where are you going?"

"To the Greed Ring. To live with Mammon," Adam said simply.

Lucifer bit back a smile. "You're a Sinner now, Adam. You can't leave Pentagram City, nonetheless Pride."

Adam reached under his shirt, pulling out a dark green crystal on an elaborate necklace chain. "Think again, bitch."

Lucifer started in disbelief. "Is that..."

"A Mammonite Crystal. Let's me travel from Pride to Greed and back."

Lucifer remembered each Sin having some kind of crystal, to allow their subjects or various Sinners the ability to travel to different rings. He had to think of something to keep him here, to break it, quickly.

"He- He can't do that," Lucifer lied. "Any production of those crystals has to be signed off by me."

"Bullshit, Morningstar. Complete. Bullshit." Adam glared at him and turned away.

"Addy..." He said, tears falling as his voice cracked. "Please don't leave me... You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me..."

Adam looked over his shoulder. "I want you out of my life forever, Morningstar... Sound familiar?" He scoffed and turned away, finally heading out. "B-T-Dubs, you're blacklisted from my shows, Captain Dumbfuck. Goodbye." And with that he finally left the hotel.

The silence became deafening as Lucifer stood alone in the lobby. He dropped to his knees and let out a guttural cry, his vision blurring as he couldn't stop crying. Why was he so stupid?

[emsdevs]

Can I please have 13 with Joseph Woll 🎁 happy birthday again! - em

a/n: here's the first celly post!! i'm so excited to get to all of these!! you guys made SUCH good picks!!

Prompt 13: "You deserved to know."

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

Catching up with Jo had been everything you could’ve hoped for. When he reached out a few days ago after he arrived in your hometown for the off-season, you could only hope it would go well, but it’s been like nothing has changed at all, like he never left and you two never lost touch. He’d had you laughing and reminiscing the whole time. That all went away, though, when you watched his smile turn serious.

“Look, there’s an actual reason I asked you to come here with me today,” you could see the nerves swirling in his eyes, making a pit grow in your stomach.

“Oh, okay, um, what, uhh, what did you need?” 

“So, there’s something I need to tell you—actually, a few things. First of all, I met this girl in Toronto,” he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s great, Joey,” you give him a tight smile, ignoring the way your heart clenches at the news.

“Yeah, so, um, we’ve been on a few dates, and I, uh, I think she’s waiting on me to make it, you know, official. But, uh, before I do, I really need to get this off my chest, and I need to know what you think about it,” he gives you a look, and you’re nervous all over again.

“Okay. What do you have for me?” 

“I think I’ve always been in love with you, and I’m not sure I can love anyone else until you turn me down,” he says it quickly, like it’s been fighting to come out of his mouth all day.

“What?” you were shocked, you never expected him to tell you anything like that.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were in middle school, but I was too scared to tell you before I left after I got drafted. I wanted you to know, but I chickened out. I didn’t think you’d feel the same. Now, I met this girl, and she’s really great. She is! She’s just not you. I can’t move things forward with her unless I know you don’t feel the same way. Either way, I still feel like you deserved to know. Especially if we’re gonna stay close after this, but I probably just ruined any chance of that. So, um, yeah,” he trails off at the end of his rant, unsure what else to say.

“I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Jo,” your face is still covered by a stunned expression.

“Yeah, so you wouldn’t be holding me back, right? I get it. It’s okay. Thank you for hearing me out. I’ll let you go now,” Joseph looks dejected, and you realize you could’ve been a bit clearer.

“No! I- I wish you would’ve told me sooner because we could’ve been together this whole time. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember Joey,” you give him a reassuring smile, hoping that maybe now the two of you could be a little more than friends.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes out a sigh of relief, “Wait, so is this our first date?”

taglist: @heartsforjh @macklin-celbrini-71  @dancerbailey3  @joeyspuckbunny  @beenucks  @wolls-angel  @lukey-pookie-hughes43  @t0xicinvasion

join the taglist

[luwritesstuff]

home safe

spencer reid x reader

notes: fighting, minor mentions of guns and explosions, happy ending, no use of y/n, gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

It was just after 1 AM when Spencer finally used his key to your shared apartment and dropped his bag by the door. You were sat on the couch with your arms crossed and neither of you said a word while he placed his shoes on the rack and shrugged out of his jacket. Spencer chewed on his lower lip as he took in the anger on your face, “I'm sorry, I-”

“No,” you said calmly and stood up, grabbing your mug and preparing to go to bed, “I don't want to hear it. I stayed up to make sure you got here alive, now I'm going to bed.”

“Wait, no, but,” Spencer sighed and stopped himself from reaching out to grab your arm, “we need to talk about this, honey. I'm really sorry and you're right to be mad, but please don't go to bed angry.” In another argument on another day you might've agreed, but you hadn't slept properly all week and you weren't ready to be reasonable with him.

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You turned back around to face him and dropped your mug back onto the coffee table. Your arms found their place crossed back over your chest and suddenly everything you've been feeling came spilling out, “I've been trying to talk to you all week and now you want to talk? That's not how this works, Spencer! You ignored me and lied to me and you made our friends lie to me. I didn't know if you were dead or alive and you couldn't be bothered to pick up your damn phone for a week. I sat here feeling useless and scared and you just, what? Didn't care?”

Spencer shook his head and you could tell you got to him because his eyes were turning red and he was blinking away tears. “No, that's not it. Of course I cared, I do care. I just, I didn't want to worry you. It was a small injury and then I was just so focused on finishing the paperwork so I could get home to you. I'm fine, okay? It's just a few stitches, but I know you would've sat here by yourself worrying all week if I told you.”

You scoffed and turned to go back into your room, hearing him follow after you. You dug through the closet to find one of your overnight bags and began shoving clothes into it. “What do you think I did instead?” Your phone charger and laptop followed a few changes of clothes, “Do you think that I didn't go through every single scenario and think of every single way you were hurt? I thought, maybe he's dead, maybe he's relapsed and overdosed somewhere, maybe the entire fucking team blew up on the jet because not a single one of you told me what was going on!”

“You would've known something was wrong if I called,” Spencer’s argument was weak and he knew it. His heart dropped when you began packing and he frantically started taking out everything you'd put into the duffel, “No, hey, what are you doing? Baby, I'm sorry. I should've had someone call you, I know that. But I ignored an order from Hotch and I got hurt and I knew you'd be angry with me and worried and I just thought it'd be better to explain everything in person.”

“Cut it out, Spencer,” you mumbled and began repacking everything he took out. “I hate your job. You guys do amazing work and you help people and I admire it so much, but I hate how often it takes you away from me and I hate how dangerous it is and I hate how it follows you home. But none of that matters to me when I'm with you. I have learned to cope with those things because you always come home and you always communicate and you're always so good at reassuring me, but this? This was the worst week of my life and I never want to feel like this again. I will not go through this again and especially not when you could have prevented it. I'm staying at my sisters,” you zipped up your bag and carried it out to the living room.

Spencer stood on the other side of the living room, watching you slide your shoes and coat on. “Was that, I mean, are you breaking up with me?” His voice was weak and he couldn't wipe the tears from his face faster than they were falling.

You sighed and let your shoulders sag before turning back around to look at him. “I need some space, Spencer. There was a second where I really thought you were dead and I felt like part of me had died too. That's not… It isn't okay. I can't keep going like this,” your voice was softer now, no longer spitting out anger but hurt.

Spencer didn't say anything else, he knew nothing he said was going to help and arguing more was only going to make things worse. So he let you leave and tried to stop his heart from following you out the door.

The stay at your sister’s ended up lasting two weeks before you were ready to face Spencer again. He'd texted you a few times, asking how you were, when you'd be home, telling you he loved you. You had answered a couple of the texts, and eventually when he asked if you could talk in person, you couldn't find it in yourself to keep staying away.

“Hi, uh. How have you been?” Spencer was stiff and awkward as he sat in front of you at your favorite cafe with your two favorite coffee’s between you. In the back of your mind, you thought that Spencer reminded you of how he acted on your first date and you let the thought warm your heart just a little bit.

You shrugged and picked at the almond croissant in front of you, “I'm okay. Work has been keeping me busy and my sister got a new puppy. How's your arm?” You asked and nodded to his left bicep where a bullet wound was beginning to heal.

“It's fine, it's good. Doctor says it's healing like it's supposed to,” Spencer said and reached up to feel his shoulder absentmindedly. “Thank you for meeting me. I miss you and I know I have a lot to make up for, I just. I really wanted to see your face.”

You stopped a smile from showing but reached across the table to hold his free hand. “I missed you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch more, but I needed some space to think and clear my head, you know?”

Spencer nodded and gave your hand a small squeeze, “Of course, it's okay. I did something really awful to you and… and I just feel terrible. I should have communicated with you and told you what was going on. I know if the roles were reversed, I'd be so freaked out not hearing from you for that long. I don't know what I was thinking, I'm sorry.”

“I know,” you sighed and leaned back in your chair, “I understand that you were trying to protect me and everything, but I want to know these things, Spencer. I want to know if you're hurt or struggling, that's what being in a relationship is. We need to be able to rely on each other and be honest with each other. And I need to be able to trust you. Every time you leave for a case, there's a little worry that sits in my chest and tells me that it might be the last time I see you. The only way that feeling goes away is if you tell me what's going on and keep me in the loop.”

“You're right. Completely. That's why I got this,” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of pagers, “You're the only person that will have the number to this. I'm gonna have it with me at all times, so if I'm on a case or my phone is dead or broken, I'll still have this with me. And if you page me, I'll answer. No matter what. If I'm in the field and I can't answer, I'll page you back and you'll know that I got it and I'll call you as soon as I can.”

If there was one thing Spencer was good at besides being a genius, it was romantic gestures. The thought of using a pager made you want to laugh, but you looked at them sitting in his hands and it made your heart clench. Spencer really only answered work calls on his phone while he was on a case, and you'd grown used to only hearing from him once every day or two. You were used to sitting and waiting anxiously at the end of the day to make sure that he made it back to whatever hotel the BAU was at.

“Are you sure?” You asked softly and reached out to take one of the matching pagers and flip it over in your hands, “I know that you get busy at work. I don't want you to think that I'm being clingy or that I don't understand. I'm fine just hearing from you at the end of the day.”

Spencer shook his head and leaned across the table to kiss your cheek, “I don't think that at all. I don't want you to sit anxiously and feel like you can't call me or that I won't answer. I don't ever want you to feel like you did that week again. I never want to make you feel that way again, honey.”

You nodded slightly and slipped the pager into your purse. “I love you. And I forgive you, yeah? We’re okay,” you promised and after you threw your empty cups away, you pulled Spencer into a tight hug. He held you back just as tightly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You were back in your apartment the next day and Spencer kept his promise, he only ever made you feel secure and every time he left for a case, he made it back home to you.

[temporarywelcome]

Hospital Visit - Spencer Reid

REQUESTED!

The Request: Your smooth criminal series is actually perfect!!!! Ahh I love the way you write both of them and their dynamics with the team. Obsessed 💕 Request: Kleptomaniac!Reader twists her ankle or like gets hurt due to practices during a dance and ends up at the hospital and worried spencer comes and sees her stealing little equipments again and her trying to leave because she doesnt want to miss her dance. (I really didn't know how to frame what I was thinking but honestly i think whatever you write will be amazing) -anonymous

CW: swearing, a bit suggestive towards the end. Technically part of my "Smooth Criminal" series though you don't need to read the other parts to understand!

AN: I'm half Dominican so yes I can poke fun of Dominican people 🙄 lmao this character I created for this is loosely based off of my grandpa-. Also totally forgot the "her trying to leave" part so I might make a seperate fic with that, mb...

_____

Words: 2k

Spencer Reid wasn’t one to leave work early. 

When there was not a case and the Behavorial Analysis Unit was busy at the office, Spencer never left early. For him, that is ridiculous. Other members of the team like Hotch and JJ would have their moments where they would have to dash out of the building with barely any warning, due to little emergencies with their children. It barley happened, but when it did, it was understandable. 

Spencer, on the other hand, did not have children to worry about. He never had a reason to leave work. 

Until his phone rang. 

Flipping it open, his brows furrowed when he noticed who it was. His girlfriend. Her calling him in the middle of work never raised any alarm. She probably just brought him some lunch again, which she did a few days ago. Or some drama happened in a show she was watching and she just had to let it out. Probably something silly like that. 

But, wait! She had said she was going to be at the studio early today to get in some extra practice before rehearsal. So why would she be calling him instead of practicing?

“Hello?” he placed the phone to his ear. 

The voice on the other end answered in panic, “Hello? Is this Spencer?”

That was not his girlfriend. Instead, it was a man with a heavy accent, the genius deduced Dominican. What the fuck was she doing with this guy? 

“Yes, I’m Spencer, as the contact ID says,” Spencer replied curtly, feeling a hint of jealousy brewing within him, “Who is this?”

“I am Flavio!” the man replied confiently, “Flavio Herrera de León! I-”

“-Why are you calling me from my girlfriend’s phone?” Spencer interrupted in annoyance, “Where is she?”

“Oh!” the man laughed awkwardly, “On the floor! I will be taking her to a hospital now!”

Now Spencer was shooting up to his feet, gathering his things as he spoke, “Hospital?! Why do you need to take her to the hospital? Why is she on the floor?!”

“Very bad injury,” said Flavio, “I worry for her,”

Very bad injury?!

“What do you mean by that?!” Spencer mouthed to Hotch a quick ‘I gotta go’, not waiting for an answer as he sped towards the door, “How bad-”

“-Must take her to hospital. Blood everywhere. Bye bye!” And with that, fucking Flavio hung up the phone, leaving Spencer in an even worst panic. Blood everywhere? What the hell was Y/N doing?

Knowing her, it could have been anything. Every possible thought went through his head, every possibility. She was zoned out and got hit by a car. She tried to befriend a dog that wasn’t very friendly. She fell down a flight of stairs. 

She stressed him the fuck out. 

After breaking at least twelve traffic laws, Spencer found himself at the ER, pushing past people to get to the receptionist. “Y/N L/N,”

Not looking up at him from her computer, the woman replied with: “Relation to the patient?” 

Ugh. “FBI. Let me see her,” he waved his badge at her. He knew this was unprofessional and an abuse of power, but this was his girlfriend. The girl he was planning to marry someday. Who he was convinced stupidly got herself into this medical emergency. 

Abuse of power be damned. 

He was led through the ER to her room, bursting in. He was expecting tubes and machines connected to her unconscious form, maybe a cast or two. He was expecting to be completely traumatized by the sight before him.

Not his girlfriend shoving surgical gloves into her pockets. 

Her head snapped into his direction, eyes wide, but when it hit that it was Spencer and not a doctor, she sighed, body relaxing. “Shit, Spence, why didn’t you just kick the door down while you’re at it?” she said sarcastically. 

He did not find her amusing. She didn’t even know if her words registered to him. “What happened?!” he felt like he repeated that quite often today. He cupped her jaw, turning her head in all different directions while looking for any wounds, “That guy said there was blood everywhere! Where are you hurt?!” his eyes went from her face to the rest of her body. 

“He’s so dramatic,” Y/N groaned, “There was blood everywhere because I had gotten a bloody nose from hitting the floor.” She grabbed his hands that were now on her shoulders, bringing them to her cheeks. Her eyes closed and lips curled into a smile, nuzzling into him. “No broken nose,”

“Then why the hell are you in the hospital?” 

“Sprained ankle. Doctor said I won’t be able to dance for about three weeks,” Her eyes opened, meeting his, and all his anger and anxiety vanished. She was okay. She was safe. Not mauled by a dog or hit by a car. 

Safe. 

“Next time you get an injury like this, please call me yourself,” Spencer sighed in relief, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, “Your friend scared me to death,” 

“My friend is super dramatic,” she giggled, already sensing his dislike towards Flavio, “He thought I broke my foot and my nose,” 

“Of course he’s dramatic. Birds of a feather flock together,” Spencer tried to joke, hands now resting on her waist, “You know… You never told me you were practicing with this friend. I thought you were practicing alone,” 

“Didn’t think I had to specify,” Yeah, he was so jealous, it was so obvious to her. 

“You should, so in the case you get kidnapped, I would have somewhere to start-”

“Spence!” she gasped, playfully hitting his shoulder, “Not only is that really anxiety-enducing, but I know for a fact that’s not why you wanted to know.” Y/N smirked, leaning closer to him, “He has a wife, Spence.”

“And? People cheat all the time. About twenty percent of married men cheat on their spouses-”

“How little do you trust me though?” she huffed. 

“It’s him I don’t trust,” Spencer corrected himself, “I trust you. Of course, I trust you,” As he spoke, he removed the surgical gloves from her pockets, “Even when you steal all of my things and I have to buy replacements because you lost them after, I still trust you. It’s just…” he trailed off, throwing the now contaminated gloves into the trash bin. 

“Just what?” As he distracted himself with the gloves, she reached out and grabbed a handful of q-tips from the table next to the examining bed she sat on, now putting those into her pockets. 

Spencer turned to face her again, “It’s just that, with this job, I see so many horrible things happen to women. And the thought of something happening to my woman scares me,” His arms went around her again, “Every time I get a case file and see a woman’s body, it occurs to me how easily it could be you,” 

“...damn,” she cleared her throat, looking down, “Gee, now Imma be scared to go outside,” 

“No you’re not,” his hands slipped into her pockets, taking out the q-tips. Spencer always noticed everything. “You’re going to continue being you and I’m going to continue worrying about you every time we’re apart. I do wish you would be more careful. I know right now you were with this guy for work-related reasons and you had to, but at least tell me?”

“Mhm,” she nodded softly. He went to throw out the q-tips, and while he did so, she began shoving gauze into her pockets next. 

“Put the gauze back,” he said firmly, not even looking at her as he disposed of the material. 

“I can’t help it,” a huff left her lips as she tossed the box (yes, she attempted to steal the whole box) back onto the counter. 

“Tell me why you need a whole box of gauze, dear,” Spencer always spoke like that when addressing her kleptomania. Why do you need this object you are stealing? And they both would know she didn’t need it, and she would keep repeating that in her head until the urge (hopefully) went away. 

“I don’t need a whole box of gauze,” she stated the obvious, taking a deep breath, “I don’t need a whole box of gauze,”

“You don’t need a whole box of gauze,” Spencer confirmed, taking her hands like he always did when she was getting her urges, “Or q-tips. Or surgical gloves. What do you possibly need to examine with those, hm?” he said the last part lightly, nuzzling her nose with his. 

A smirk formed on her face as she spoke, “You?” 

“Me? And how would you do that?” 

“Can examine the part of you I love most….” she trailed off, in thought, “Wait, that’s hard. That was supposed to be me saying your dick however is that really what I love most? ‘Cause, like, look at you,” 

She always knew how to make his cheeks burn red. “What else do you love then?” 

“Oooh, where do I begin?” she threw her arms up in the air dramatically, “Okay, let me start with your facial features…”

____

By the time she was cleared by a doctor and allowed to leave the room, Spencer had a good hickey or two (four actually) on his neck and a giddy expression on his face. Once in the waiting room, a man shot up seeing Y/N, Spencer immediately assuming Flavio. 

“Ah, mi flor,” he exclaimed, examining her all over, “Nothing is broken! How good!”

“Yep, all good,” Y/N replied, “Flavio, meet my boyfriend, Spencer. Spencer, meet Flavio, one of my dance partners for my current show,” 

Spencer and Flavio shook hands, Y/N giggling softly at the look Spencer was giving him. Oh, she knew damn well Spencer was profiling the fuck out of him. To most people, Spencer looked like he had a blank expression on his face, but Y/N knew him better. There was something about Flavio that Spencer did not like. She wasn’t sure if it was the simple fact this was a man who spends alone time with his woman, or something else entirely. 

“It is so nice to meet you, Spencer!” Flavio shook his hand cheerfully, “I have heard many good things about you!” 

“Oh, really?” that made Spencer cheer up slightly, “I’m glad to hear that,” he draped an arm around Y/N’s waist. Spencer didn’t look like the type, but he was incredibly possessive, which was fine, because Y/N was possessive as fuck over him. Spencer precieved everything friendly said to her as flirting, though, when someone actually flirted with him he wouldn’t catch it. It was cute, but also frustrating, because then the only way to get these people to leave him alone is a threat or two coming from her. 

Flavio opened his mouth to speak, but paused when his phone rang. He flipped it open, seeing the caller ID. “Ah, I must take this. My girlfriend is calling,”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, “I thought you were married?”

“Yes yes, I am,” the dancer shrugged, “My wife is here. My girlfriend is in la Republica Dominicana,” And with that, he was off, babbling into the phone. 

“I told you,” Spencer rolled his eyes, glaring at Flavio’s retreating form in disgust, “Twenty percent,” 

“You best not be part of that twenty percent in the future or I’ll end up being an unsub your team has to catch,” Y/N threatened lightly, pinching his side. 

“Hey!” he gasped, “What makes you think- wait,” hard stop, “Does that mean you see yourself marrying me someday?”

She smirked, beginning to walk (limp) towards the exit, “Hmmmm, maybe?” 

“Wait! Wait, you can’t just drop that and wobble away from me!” He followed after her, a huge shit-eating grin forming on his lips.

[howlingday]

Grimm King

"Today is the day I rid myself the blight of you silver-eyed warriors. Finally, I will be free to spread my Grimm wide and far to consume this dead world! So says I, SALEM!"

Salem: I will destroy your hopes, the same as I destroyed your mother's!

Ruby: My mom's hopes lives on, inside of me, my sister, and our friends!

Yang: And then some~!

Blake: (Giggles)

Weiss: Could you please keep the flirting to a minimum this time?

Salem: It doesn't matter, not when my victory is almost at hand! I will use the relics, summon the Brothers, and annihilate all of Remnant!

Ruby: (In Salem's face, Grabs her) NOT WHILE I'M HERE!

Salem: ARGH! (Tries to pull Ruby off) UN...HAND... ME!

Yang: Kick her ass, Ruby~!

Salem: (Thinking) NO! Not like this! Not when I'm so close! I... I must retreat... I'll invoke an ancient spell... One I've saved for just this occasion...

Salem: (Chanting)

Blake: Does anyone else hear that?

Weiss: I'm kind of busy trying not to be blinded!

Oz: Hello again...

Salem: Ozma... You're as beautiful as the day I lost you~.

Oz: And you... are just as misguided as ever. You will die here, and only I will mourn you.

Salem: Fufufu... You underestimate me again, my former beloved. Sometimes I pity your poor attempts at flirting.

Oz: And I grow tired of you making the same mistake over and over again. Even now, I am simply a fragment of your subconscious as your body is destroyed by Ruby Rose. Perhaps on your return to the living world, you should try to make more friends to comfort you, rather than minions to serve you.

Salem: Hmph! I have no need for friends. All I desire is death, true death, and I cannot have this while Remnant still bears the gifts of the Brothers. And I'll start by hunting down and slaughtering that silver-eyed brat, Ruby Rose!.

Oz: I also have thoughts on your obsession with her and those like her, but that can be addressed later. Your soul will rebuild itself within a new body. And when it does, I hope that this will be our last conversation where I tell you that I love you.

Salem: Save your pity for the rest of humanity, Ozma. For I shall return and this time I shall be victorious~!.

Salem: (Crumbles to smoke and ash)

Ah... Now this is something I haven't felt in a long while. As my body perishes, my mind fleets away and returns with memories of my long, eternal life. From my plunge into the Brothers' accursed lake to my eternal feud with the silver-eyed warriors. The control of the Grimm. My betrayal at the hands of my father, my lover, and our daughters. My lonely years in the tower and the beautiful day when Ozma rescued me from there. Staying up late and reading superhero comic books my uncle bought me. Neat bugs never shown to those I've been enamored with...

Wait, what? When did these memories form? A photo of myself and my mothers at my preschool graduation. My first visit to the beach where a seagull squawked at me.

Who is this?!

Trading video games with my friends. My first day of school.

WHOSE MEMORIES ARE THESE?!

Adrian: (Gasps)

Adrian: (Thinking) Huh? A hospital?. (Reads) "Adrian Cotta Arc, Age: 11". Were those HIS memories?!.

Saphron: Adrian...? Adrian! (Hugs) Oh, ancestors, you're awake~! I know it's only been a few days, but I was afraid you'd...

Adrian: N-No, you're... I mean, I'm-

Saphron: Are you okay, honey? Honestly, if anything happened to you, I'd hate myself for you having such an awful mother!

Adrian: ...No, I'm... I'm fine. I'm just... a little dizzy.

[authorsofghosts]

Oxytocin Overload | Hank McCoy x Reader

Author's Note: hear me out....

Summery: After Hank left the lab to join the X-Men, you felt slightly disheartened, like a part of your soul had left. That's when you realized you were in love with the shy, strange nerd.

Themes: 2 Nerds In Love, Already Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends-to-Lovers, Work Place Romance (kinda), Awkward Hank AND Awkward Reader, A Little Projection, Charles Cameo (kind of a main character ngl), Charles hatred (I love him tho), Disability rep (Charles Xavier I hate you <3), takes place between First Class and Apocalypse, Hank technically kidnaps the Reader (it's for their own good), Reader is a Mutant (no powers specified)

Word Count:

You're on autopilot, on your way back to your lab after talking to probably the most arrogant and ignorant person in the whole building. You're met, head first, with a hard chest of someone you didn't even see because you were currently ten hundred miles away.

"Oh- sorry, uh-" You start, looking up and seeing probably to best news all day. "Hank?"

"Hey." He chuckles out, his signature awkward smile on his face, hand fixing his glasses. "You know, when I came back here I thought you'd be long gone. It's been a while."

You look up at him, blinking slowly as you try to see if this was real or not. Your former work bestie is back after God knows how long. "Yeah, no, I'm still- I'm still here." You laugh, taking a step back. "What are you doing here?"

You look down, noticing he's in a lab coat. Strange. He's also, like, a good few inches taller and more muscular. Even stranger.

"Ah, uh... I was, uh... well I... I'm not supposed to be here, actually?" He laughs, looking at you with a completely serious face. "You know what? You should stay by my side while I uh- do the thing I'm not supposed to be doing." He stammers slightly, grabbing your hand and starting to walk.

You're taken aback, mouth agape as you start walking in turn with him. The way his voice was completely serious and how fast he's walking...

"What are you not supposed to be doing, Hank?"

"Grabbing some of my old research. Nothing, like, illegal, I hope." He laughs slightly, then stops talking for a second before turning to you, "Wait- you- okay never mind, I'll ask later." He grumbles, his pace doubling as he pulls you along with him.

Before you know it, you're half way across the building and out of place. Hank walks in an extremely stiff way that makes you almost feel like he's not the same guy you would go and drink with after work, or make jokes with when comparing studies. He's almost completely changed, except for his sweat palms whenever he got close to you, or touched you. And he's holding your hand still, making it quite obvious.

He pulls you into a room, "Stay by the door, alright?" He asks, biting down on the inside of his lip, walking further into his old lab, which has now collected a layer of dust so thick, every surface was painted a slight gray.

You watch as he looks around his lab, suddenly stopping before turning to a drawer and opening it. He mumbles under his breath before walking to you, putting the files in your hand. "Here. You where already carrying one so, it'll look fine. You're uh, not coming back here"

"What?" You ask, taken aback slightly.

"Whatever you're studying, I can help you back at my lab. I think it's best if you came to the School with me and we-" He pauses, the air hissing as he sucks it between his teeth. "I can explain later, we have to go, now." He takes your hand again and steps out the room, walking at almost a humanly impossible speed, your feet barely able to keep up.

Before you know it, Hank has you outside the building and into a rental car. you go to speak but are met with a voice in your head. "Hi, this must be scary. Listen, everything is going to be okay, I just need you to, uh... go to sleep." And then you do.

The man with the English accent's voice become slower and you wake up, laying on a couch somewhere else. You sit up immediately, looking around. You see a man sitting at a desk across the room, fingers knitted together as he looks at you. "Hello." He says, the same voice you heard earlier.

"Uh- hi?" You manage to get out. "Where am I?"

"You, my friend, are at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters." He smiles, standing up. He grips the desk slight as he does so, seemingly slightly uneasy.

You get up and immediately walk over to him, feeling an impulse to help him. "What's that? Are you okay? Where's Hank?" You say, all these questions falling from you mouth before you can even realize you've sat this stranger on the couch you woke up on.

"Thank you, uh... Those are questions I have answers to, but I want to ask you something first." He says, studying over you. He takes a deep breath. "My name is Charles Xavier, and you might be?"

You introduce yourself, tilting your head slightly as you feel a sudden urge to tell him anything. So you do. You tell him your name, and where you work and stuff that he probably already knows if he knows Hank.

"Great, now that we're acquainted, can you tell me about your powers?" He asks almost too casually, especially with information you've never told any one.

"Wh- Powers? I don't-" You start, but he puts up his hand.

"No need to lie, you're in safe company." Charles says, but quickly looking towards the door right before it opens. "Hank." He smiles.

You look over at the door and see Hank, a box in hand. "It's time for the serum, isn't it?" He chuckles, placing it on the next and taking out a syringe."

"Yes, it is, thank you, bud." Charles says, waving his hand at him.

Hank looks at you, flashing a quick smile before rolling up Charles sweater and pressing the needle into his skin. Of course, you don't watch, shielding your eyes slightly. "Okay, well, uhm... let me know how you feel in five minutes, okay?" Hank asks before looking at you. "Hi. I'm sure there are a lot of questions-"

"Yeah. A lot." You say bluntly, standing up and looking at Charles for a moment and then back at Hank.

"I can answer them, I promise, just uh- You okay, Charles?"

"Peachy, yeah." The other man says, nodding and waving a dismissive hand. "Go talk to your friend, I'm just gonna... lay here."

Hank laughs, making sure Charles is in an okay position before gesturing to the door. You both walk out and he closes the door softly. You look around at the rather lavish hallway, eyes wide. "Hank, where did you bring me-"

"A school, mansion-turned-school, rather. Uh, for people like us." He says. "You have powers, and so do me and Charles. It's a lot to take in at first, knowing there are other people like you-"

"You have powers?!" You say, taking a step back. "What, are you like- what the hell am I talking about, this is crazy." You sigh loudly, walking in a direction away from the room, looking around for some kind of exit. "I don't have powers, Hank." You state bluntly.

"But you do. And so do I, I mean..." He sighs,stepping in front of you. "It's a little scary, you know? I don't want to scare you. Okay?"

You look at him for a moment, confused, until he pulls a small knife from his pocket and pressing it against himself, just softly. And before you can even process what's happening, Hank's skin turns blue, and so does his hair. His eyes are yellow and he gets a little bit broader. You watch in, not horror, but amazement.

"Woah- Cool."

"See? Now, show me what you can do." He laughs softly, putting the knife back in his pocket and rubbing at the small wound from the prick.

"Yeah- Uh- no." You shake your head. "This is... a lot to take in, uh... maybe we can talk about it over... dinner? Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"Friday?"

"Valentine's Day."

"Oh. Then maybe not tomorrow... unless...?"

[gorgeous777]

A Flower, Neville Longbottom x Fem. Reader

Maybe this time he'll get it right.

A/N: Another bot turned story (｡-∀-)♪ https://share.character.ai/Wv9R/ie2tqwfj @jasperpasta

Enjoy!

________________________

The Yule ball had been announced not long ago, but it drew closer with every passing day. Everyone was buzzing with excitement, buying formal wear and asking people to be their dates. The hot topic for everyone fourth year through seventh was dates. Who was taking who, who was asking who, ect. It wasn't until after Professor McGonagall's dance lessons did it occure to him that he too needed a date. And fast. Everyone, especially his year mates, were already betting he'd go alone. The first (and only person really) that came to mind was you. He'd been crushing on you for ages now.

But, he'd never had the courage to make a move. He tried a few times before, though it never came off quiet the right. He wasn't the best when it came to any romantic area. With the way you reacted before, he had seriously doubted himself. He had narrowed it down to you either trying to reject him gently or him just being plain too dull. And neither were necessarily the case, still his mind told him otherwise. He promised himself that this would be the time he finally got it right. So after planning and talking himself into it fully, he did just that. His first decision was to make it into a more romantic gesture.

How he was going to manage that he didn't know. In result, he went to Hermione: the only girl he thought to talk to about this. Anxiously, he tracked. Which wasn't a hard feat, seeing as she was in the library like usual. "Hey uhm, Hermione?" He fumbled as he tripped over the chair next to her, attempting to pull it out and sit in it. "Yes Neville?"

"I was wonder if you could help me with something"

"What is it?" He pauses, his tongue slipping between his lips to wet them before he responded. "Well, uhm. I wanted to ask Y/N to be my date to the ball. But I'm not sure how, I want it to be romantic and make it clear it's not in a 'let's go as friends' sort of way, y'know?" Hermione smiled, finally tearing her gaze away from the book she was reading to the boy beside her.

"Oh Neville, that's nice! What did you have in mind"

"See that's the problem, nothing. I was hoping you could help me with the whole romantic bit"

"I see. Well, there's a few ways you could go about it"

"Like what?"

"Would could always just do something simple. Like propose with a flower. A poster, if you want to be grand about it" He thought hard about Hermione's suggestions. The idea of making a poster sounded nice, but he didn't trust his artistic skill for that. A flower sounded perfect though. And it gave him an excuse to go back to the greenhouses. So, he nods. "A flower sounds perfect" With that being said, he bid his friend good by and headed off to the greenhouses. After walking around them all and searching thoroughly, he realized that none of the flowers he found were suitable. They were all either ugly, smelt horrible or were just plain dangerous.

That put him in a difficult position. His next course of action was to go search the grounds until he found one. After several hours of doing so, he managed to find one of those big daisies. It wasn't a rose, but it would have to do. And it was the thought that counts, right? Only things left to do now was give you the flower and ask you out. That was going to be the hardest part, easily. Hours of reaching and wandering later, he managed to find a few of those large wild daisies. He picked out the prettiest one out of the small bunch. Now he just had to ask you out. He felt his stomach drop at the thought. What if you said no? Or what if he messed up and made a fool of himself? A million anxieties washed over him during his walk back to the castle.

When he got back inside he caught you out of the corner of his eye walking down a corridor. He froze. Should he do it now, or should he wait? Maybe he just shouldn't at all. He took a deep breath. He was gonna do it now. If he waited any longer that gave somebody else the chance to ask you to be their date. He did a little jog down the corridor in attempt to catch up with you. "Hey Y/N wait up a moment please!" He called out, stuttering a bit as he did. You stopped walking once you heard Neville's voice. With a smile you turned around to face him. He sighed inwardly, now able to catch up with you a lot easier. The flower was now hidden behind his back, making him look ever more awkward than usual.

"What's up Neville?"

"I was just uhm.." He trailed off momentarily, licking his lips while as his cheeks grew burning hot. His grip on the flower shifted slightly. With a small breath, he managed to hold out the flower to you. He barely managed to lift his gaze from the floor to look at you as he spoke. "I was wondering if you'd be my date to the ball..?" You felt your chest grow impossibly tight and ache. A blush quickly formed across your cheeks that matched his. Excitement erreupted through your veins like a volcano. "Yes!" You exclaimed joyfully, much to his surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes, absolutely! I would love to!" He let out a meek flustered noise as you suddenly jumped up and hugged him, causing him to stumble back a bit. Though, he's not very slow to return your hug with a growing smile. "I'm so glad" His voice came out trembling due to how flustered he was. Nonetheless, he was a very happy camper. After a few long close moments, he gently set you down and took a tiny step back. He fumbles his words a few times trying to say something. Ultimately, he gives up and just holds the flower back out for you with a small 'Here'. "Thank you" His gaze his back on the floor now, and he's rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with a soft nod.

"You're welcome.."

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[m1dnight-blu3]

someone please free me from the shackles of my ableist job so I can read my books, draw and write my silly little fics in PEACE

[tittyinfinity]

It's really nice having a free housekeeping service thru my Medicaid but ever since my regular housekeeper that I had for a year (now friend) got promoted in March it's like every other person I've had fuckin hates disabled people