#sometimes I wonder if this is worth all the trouble it’s caused me

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[7s3ven]

Hear me out guys… retired soldiers now bodyguards! task force 141 x spoiled heiress! reader

( just an idea )

You’re like, a nutcase. Your father adores you but sometimes you can go out of control. Like for instance, the time you jumped off a cliff into the ocean below to impress a boy.

Yeah, your father wasn’t very impressed with your behaviour.

On top of your recklessness, your father has enemies who always seem to target you. You’re his obvious weakness and he can’t spend another moment of anxiously wondering if you’re okay while he’s working.

So, he hires the best bodyguards he can find. And they turn out to be retired soldiers from an elite unit known as Task Force 141. Perfect.

You don’t take kindly to being continuously followed by four large men who don’t even try to be subtle. It’s not like taking care of you is easy either. You’re a troublemaker, you always have been since your mother left you for another family (your reckless tendencies tend to stem from the fact that you’re causing trouble to get her to notice you again).

Task Force 141 has had enough when you attempt to sneak out of the house to a party on a Friday night. But it seems apart from shopping and acting like a brat, you aren’t good at anything else.

They hear a crash and someone swearing loudly before you roll off the roof, landing in the bushes right outside the window where the four men have a perfect view of you. They were watching a football came until you interrupted.

Jonny bursts into laughter, slapping Gaz out of amusement, while Price fetches you and forces you back inside.

“You know, your house has a back door for a reason.” Simon utters as he cleans your scratches but there’s a mocking indication to his tone.

“Yeah but like, going out the window felt more cool.” You argue back, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Was it cool when you face planted into the ground?”

You can only pout in annoyance.

From then on, they don’t leave you alone, especially not on Friday nights. You have to deal with being squished between Price and Simon as they watch a boring documentary on… fish? Jonny definitely chose that one.

But hey, you aren’t exactly complaining. Being stuck between the two men means being able to feel their muscles and smell their strong cologne. You tolerate the four men more after they cleaned your scratches from landing in a bush and carried you to your bed.

And so what if you catch feelings? Anybody else in your position would have done the same.

“We can’t date ya, lovie. We’re too old and we work for your dad.”

Do you care? Not really.

“My dad literally hired you because I was a troublemaker. Ya think I give a shit? ‘Sides, the older the better.”

Jonny jabs a thumb in Price’s direction, “Even the captain? You should’ve seen ‘im in his prime. Way better looking.” He hands you a picture that he just happens to have of Price.

You glance at it then lift your head to look at Price. Your lips curve into a teasing smile. “Yeah, you’re right. What happened, Captain?” You joke.

INCORRECT QUOTES FOR THE LAUGHS:

Kidnapper, negotiating with TF 141: We have the annoying heiress. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Y/N: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars. MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Price: Y/N, STOP

Simon: Can I be frank with you guys?

Jonny: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Gaz: Can I still be Gaz?

Y/N: Shh, let Frank speak.

Gaz: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Simon: *turning to Y/N* How tall are you?

Price: Where's Simon, Gaz, and Y/N?

Jonny: They're playing hide and seek.

Price: Where?

Jonny: I don't think you get how this game works.

Y/N: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Simon: Several traffic violations.

Gaz: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Jonny: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Price: Also, that’s not our car.

[ranunculussy]

enigma | part 01.

tuesday

ꕥ part 02. | part 03. | part 04. ꕥ pair: Spencer Reid × BAU!fem!reader ꕥ warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, mentions of human trafficking, swearing, somewhat oblivious Reid and reader, age gap, moderately jealous Spencer, slow-burn, mutual pining, rivals to lovers, english isn't my first language so bear with me pls, idk about other warnings ꕥ word count: ~4k ꕥ summary: Spencer can't quite figure you, his rival out and this annoys him more than it should [this fanfic is also available on AO3 with the same title and username]

The violin's iconic, somewhat sharp sound sent shivers down your spine as the small, elegant live band started to perform one of their original songs. The tunes had a vintage, old-money vibe, which matched the deep, honey-like voice of the singer. In some way, their performance reminded you of Lana del Rey, even though the lyrics had no resemblance to the woman’s work.

The upper part of your elegant black dress hugged your body perfectly, while the skirt flowed gracefully around your legs. You dressed moderately so that you could be wired, but you still managed to fit into the fundraising gala you attended, mostly because Penelope did wonders with your makeup and hair. You seemed rich and smart. Like a calculated businesswoman, someone who knew exactly how to play their cards right. The only drawback was that if things came down to a chase, running in a long dress could cause trouble. And no, the high heels weren’t a problem, like at all. You couldn’t even count how many times you had to catch assholes in bars while wearing impossible shoes and sometimes also being tipsy, but you were always quick and efficient.

“See anything suspicious, babygirl?” came Derek’s voice from your earpiece which was disguised as an earring.

“All I see is suspicious” you murmured while raising the glass of champagne to your mouth as if you were drinking, to subtly cover your moving lips. “I cannot even count how many illegal deals were made under the table in this last hour.”

“Focus. Someone here has the exact time and coordinates of the next auction. If we lose that, we lose countless victims who are being trafficked” joined into the conversation your boss, the always collected and stoic Aaron Hotchner. You caught a glimpse of his figure from across the fancy, dimly lit ballroom. He was dressed elegantly, which wasn’t so different from his usual attire.

You carefully walked around, making your moves as elegant as possible. As if you were flowing amongst the crowd. You listened into conversations, trying to catch anything that’d indicate that the speaker had the information you needed. You and Aaron went undercover as attendees, mingling with the various guests who all had unimaginable net worth and power. It was intimidating but you tried not to think about it, afraid you’d blow your cover. The rest of the team was stationed near the entrances and exits. If the person who knew where the next auction was going to be held sensed that you were onto them and they’d try to slip away, the others could catch them outside.

“Try not to get distracted by the smooth-talking” you heard Reid’s almost condescending voice from your earpiece which made you tempted to take it off.

“On the very safe assumption that this was meant for me and not Hotch, fuck you.”

“Just saying” Reid laughed at the other end of the line but didn’t say more. If the case wasn’t as intense as it sadly was, he would’ve continued bickering. It would’ve been pointless trying to deny how much he enjoyed arguing with you, picking small fights, and being on your nerves, just as much as you were constantly dancing on his.

Ever since you joined the BAU almost a year ago now, you were the source of Dr Spencer Reid’s dilemmas. Solving problems, puzzles, solving everything was Reid’s thing. But even after nearly a year working together, he still couldn’t figure you out, which bothered him more than anything.

You walked into the BAU’s bullpen with a soft smile on your face, wearing black straight jeans and a lavender-coloured button-up shirt. The team knew about a newbie joining them, but they didn’t look up anything about you. The unintentional crossing of personal boundaries was a constant problem amongst them, they didn’t want to voluntarily ruin things by basically stalking you. So, you walked in with a shy smile on your face. Everyone was waiting but they didn’t want to make things awkward. Emily was the first one who walked up to you, whom you greeted with a genuine, warm smile. JJ should’ve walked you through the building while letting you know the basics and then introduce you to the team, but she was caught up at the bank, being late for the first time. That’s why you were more anxious than usual.

So, the first meeting was even more awkward than you’d previously anticipated. But the small group of unordinary individuals were welcoming. Derek cracked some jokes almost immediately, making you laugh and even fire back something quick-witted, starting the process of getting to know each other a bit more light-heartedly.

You quickly became a soft spot for everyone. You were kind, attentive and funny. You tried to memorize every small, personal detail about the others and later do things as they preferred. For example, once you caught Emily saying that for some reason, she always had a stomach-ache from cinnamon and since then, you always made sure that whenever you brought some snacks or cookies for the team, Emily never had any of that spice in it. You also noticed how Penelope obsessed over anything colourful and over the top – it would’ve been harder not to notice, to be honest, so every now and then you surprised her with small things like silly stickers or tiny figures to decorate her tech wizard cave.

It was so easy to have a conversation with you. You could talk for hours about literally anything, whether it was serious or something fun. You matched everyone’s vibe, fitting into the BAU family perfectly.

And now onto Spencer Reid. He first saw you as a rival. To begin with, you replaced him as the youngest, by far. And of course, the unofficial title of being the youngest of the BAU meant nothing, came with no benefits and didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be salty due to such a silly thing. He was way above that. Except that he wasn’t. He didn’t handle change that well, and the youngest title being ripped away from him, even if it was such a trivial matter, annoyed him.

It also turned out very quickly that you were intelligent as hell. Of course, dumb people can’t make it to the FBI. But above being intelligent and very well-read, you pointed out his flaws more than he liked. Obviously, you weren’t smarter than him. He had an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, countless PhDs and BAs, years of experience and an overall thirst for knowledge, so it would’ve been impossible for almost anyone to outsmart the doctor. But he was also human. Sometimes, he made mistakes. Sometimes, his calculations were wronged by the unpredictable nature of humans. Of course, as a profiler, his field of expertise was human behaviour, but this field meant one of the highest chances of error, especially at the beginning of new cases, where a huge part of the profile was educated guesswork.

Many times, you were the one who found the possible mistakes in his calculations and theories, and you were the one who came up with the solution that helped the most in the end. However, even though you were intelligent and sharp, your mind, and due to that your way of thinking was rather chaotic. It seemed as if you were jumping to conclusions without a proper explanation which oftentimes sounded illogical at first, causing some arguments between the two of you. But you were smart. You were able to challenge him in a way very few people could. Your subtle rivalry gave him a feeling of rush, some adrenalin and a healthy kind of excitement. So, even if Spencer would’ve never admitted it, he enjoyed the louder arguments too.

On top of that, Spencer also didn’t fail to notice how you were considerate towards him too, even after some fights. You couldn’t be called friends either. You were co-workers with a continuous but tamed rivalry - while also joking around sometimes -, at best. Still, if you were making coffee in the breakroom, you usually brew a cup for Reid too, despite he rarely asked for it. You simply memorized the times of the day when he usually had his caffeine intake and if you were drinking at that same time too, you also gave a cup to him just the way he liked. Also, you were very mindful of physical contact. If you handed him anything, you made sure that your fingers weren’t touching.

Spencer liked this. He was so used to being the one who was willing to read the others around him and adjust, that the feeling of him being read and actively kept in mind felt very weird in a good way. Of course, he knew if he asked literally anyone in the team to do something differently or avoid doing something, if possible, everyone would comply without any problems. But he would’ve had to ask them. Not with you though. And that’s what he really appreciated.

And if all of this wasn’t enough for a confusing relationship between workmates, there was the problem of him, not being able to "decode" you entirely. You were chatty, very kind and open to literally anyone. You were helpful, patient and so on. You talked a lot. But what bothered Spencer is that even though you were always talking, you never said anything about yourself. The team didn’t even realize that they knew nothing about you. About the real you. You were so good at being the hyperactive, talkative sunshine of the group that it slipped past them how you carefully kept any kind of personal detail a secret. Or if they noticed it, they let it slide. Dancing around the topic of privacy amongst them was hard enough already. No one wanted to overstep.

But Reid was intrigued. He wanted to know more about the person who was able to so confidently push his buttons almost every day. He tried to ask some more specific questions, but you effortlessly managed to answer them without saying anything personal and still sounding natural. Sometimes he didn’t even notice that he was getting nowhere, only after the conversation was over.

To sum it up, you were an enigma. As his rival, you gave him excitement with each argument. As the team’s newest sweet girl, you tried your best to make everyone happy around you while completely shutting everybody out, without them noticing. The ball of sunshine who many times didn’t even flinch at the violence that surrounded them every day. For some reason, he couldn’t easily dissect your personality into a thousand different pieces and find a reason behind everything you do, as he usually does with others, and this annoyed him a lot.

“Y/N, I think I have something” murmured your boss into your ears through the earpiece, making you look for him in the crowd. You quickly caught a glimpse of his determined figure as he approached some men near the bougie marble fireplace.

“Should I join in?” you asked.

“Not yet. We have no exact profile of anyone who’s an attendant at the auctions. I’ll see how they react to me first.”

“All right, I’ll be close,” you said as you blended into the crowd nearby. You could only hear parts of the conversation the suspects were having since you had to engage in small talk and courtesy with others, so you wouldn’t stand out from the elite guests.

“…my wife will be here soon. She just went to get some champagne for me...” it was safe to say that this was your sign. Yes, calling you his wife was a bit unexpected, but not an entirely impossible scenario. When you were going through some phrases to use or not to use, how to be polite while remaining elegant, because politeness can easily be misjudged as being humble and weaker, Hotchner and you being married was also a highly optional outcome. This gala was so low-risk, filled with powerful and important people, that even those who were cheating with one or multiple other people, didn’t dare to bring their sidepieces. Those who had come with partners all came with their spouses. So, you grabbed another glass of champagne for your boss and walked over to him with a smile on your face.

He looked effortlessly elegant as he slightly leaned towards the marble fireplace while engaged in a conversation with two other men.

“Hey honey,” you said while tiptoeing and hinting a small peck at your boss’s face. You already knew that the team won’t ever shut up about this. You could almost hear their teasing. “I’ve brought your champagne.”

“Thank you, darling,” he said as he pulled you a bit closer by carefully placing his hands on your waist. “This is my wife, Charlotte, who I’ve mentioned before.”

“Cameron Wallace, nice to meet you, miss.”

“Brian Pierce, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is mine, gentlemen,” you said with a small smile on your face as you reached forward with your right hand, allowing them to hint one small kiss above your knuckles.

“So, darling, you know how we have problems with finding someone who’d make our marriage more interesting while still keeping it confidential” Hotch started talking almost nonchalantly.

“Guys, Cameron Wallace was a hot topic a few months ago. He comes from old money and had everything planned for his life by his filthy rich parents up until a few months ago. He was newlywed when shit hit the fan. He cheated on his wife with some high-end swinger who then ratted out everything to the media. And by everything, I mean literally everything. Not just the hook up but every single business secret the family had. Cameron got divorced, disowned and kicked out from the Wallace Corps, which is still at its lowest, by the way,” chimed in Garcia, giving you a little heads up, helping in which direction you should take the conversation.

“Ah yes. Nowadays you can never be sure about who you’re letting into your home. One minute you could lay in bed with them, the other minute they’re selling all your secrets and ruining your reputation, your whole life you’ve been working so hard for. It’s such a shame, really.” you said while you placed your palm on your chest as if you were soothing your aching heart. And bingo. Cameron caught the bait. By empathizing with him, even if it seemed unintentional on his part, he automatically felt more at ease around you.

“Totally agree. You could even buy a house for these whores and most of them would still sell you out” Cameron rolled his eyes. He was tall and conventionally attractive. Wavy dark brown hair, deep green eyes, muscular build, blindingly white teeth. Everyone who looked at him was able to tell that he was a total bitch.

“It’s awful what money does to people nowadays” I agreed, feeding into his ego. Brian was silent, more collected. He seemed older too, more around the age of Hotchner than you.

“Mr. Pierce seems weirdly clean and unproblematic, so it’s safe to assume that he paid a shit ton to get his past erased. For him, I’ll need more time.” rambled Penelope into your ears, and you took this as a warning to proceed with caution if it comes to the older man.

“I’m sorry, it must be a mistake on my side, but I didn’t quite catch your last name, Charlotte,” said suddenly the man. For a quick moment, panic rushed through you. He didn’t ask for Aaron’s full name, Garcia let you know via your earpiece. He was testing you directly. But you had no idea whether he was looking for a submissive wife or a confident, almost dominant one. You knew he was already playing out a fantasy, including you and if you picked the wrong role, the whole mission was fucked.

Okay, let’s calm down, Y/N. You are an excellent profiler; you can easily figure out a man. If I look at them as a team, Pierce is obviously the dominant one. Even if both are alpha males, Wallace is younger and short-tempered, probably narcissistic too. Brian Pierce seems smarter and much more manipulative, even able to control Cameron without him noticing it. I think he gets off on feeling powerful as an authority figure. He didn’t even talk that much with Hotchner, recognising that they’re somewhat similar which didn’t interest him, and only joined in the conversation when I was talking too much.

“I have my husband’s last name, of course,” you said with a shy smile while you started to fidget with your fingers and avoided Pierce’s gaze. “I think it would be disrespectful towards him to have it any other way, sir.” you heard a small, approving hum from Brian, so short you almost missed it. But this gave you the green light you desperately hoped for.

“And let me ask you a somewhat indiscrete question, miss. Is it you who wants to spice up your marriage with an additional person or your husband?”

“Both of us, Mr. Pierce. I love my husband more than anything. Everything I have is thanks to him and his hard work. I am truly fortunate that I caught his interest a few years ago in a similar event and I want to do everything to keep him interested. So, if he is curious about how it would be to have a third person in our bed, I’m more than happy to… experiment. I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way.”

You heard the others snorting or even laughing at your monologue in other parts of the line and you almost broke character yourself. At this point, you couldn’t even blame the others for making fun of you in the future. You totally deserved it.

Your boss was silently looking at you, playing the part of a manipulative husband who was satisfied with his wife’s answers, revolving around him and only him.

“In that case, may I recommend a small event? Not even an event, I’d much rather call it a confidential get-together between people with similar interests. My wife and I had a similar problem, and we found a solution there not so long ago. She is a perfect addition to our lives without causing any difficulties.”

“I’d be more than open to anything, Brian,” said Hotchner with a small smirk on his face as he pulled you closer to him.

“One of my dear friends will host a private party in one of his villas in the countryside this weekend, I’m hoping to see you there,” said Pierce, shook Aaron’s hand and left, not even bothering to say goodbye to you. Cameron nodded and also left, leaving you two to be.

You slowly lowered your gaze to Hotch’s palm, in which there was a small, seemingly normal name card. But both of you knew it was so much more than that. It was your clue and a ticket to the auction, being held four days from now. The mission was successful; however, it came with the awkward part of having to play husband and wife for the rest of the night with your boss, to avoid suspicion.

“I am so sorry, L/N. They were giving subtle hints of the event, but I couldn’t get through them alone. They are alpha males, and I figured they needed to test you since both see women as a possible liability, even the wives.” apologized Aaron quietly, as if he was whispering something entirely different to you.

“It’s okay boss, we both knew this outcome could be a possibility,” you said and took a small sip of champagne. “I bet the team won’t let this slide anytime soon, though.”

“I wouldn’t even dare dream of it. Still, nice work, Agent,” he said in his usual, stoic demeanour, only his slight smile gave away that he was proud and satisfied with your performance. Without you, as the dumb, obedient wife, the team couldn’t get the information about where the traffickers would hold the next auction.

×××

“I am just afraid that this person would try to harm my dear Aaron in any way,” said Derek in a high-pitched voice with closed eyes and palms pressed on his chest. You were in your everyday attire, finally being able to move comfortably without the heavy dress.

“I love my husband more than anything. Oh my God, what would I even do without my precious husband?” joined in Emily, with a huge grin on her face that she couldn’t hide. The team finished for that day. It was way past the end of their work hours, but since the gala was held late at night, all of them were aware that this would stretch into whatever plans they originally had. They were in the small, stingy locker room, getting their coats and bags so they could leave the building.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourselves at my expense, guys,” you said as if you were annoyed, but couldn’t hide the playful smile that was plastered on your face.

“Careful, her darling Aaron will beat your asses if you push the matter too far,” even Rossi had some commentary, in his usual, seemingly monotone style.

You couldn’t control the situation. Not that you wanted that much. You always enjoyed the light-hearted bickering and how everyone joined in when there was a chance to get on someone’s nerves.

“Can we expect another little Hotchner soon?” asked Reid not so far from you, who was organizing the contents of his brown satchel bag. His wavy brown hair hid most of his face as he looked down into the bag, but the tone of his voice gave you a hint that he was also just joining the others in teasing you. With his long, delicate fingers he carefully sorted out the books, newspapers, pen case and spectacle case that got mixed up in today’s work.

“If my dear husband deems that we need another small prodigy, I am more than happy to do my wifely duties and give him a child,” you said and tried to act as if you wholeheartedly believed every single word you said, causing the team to laugh at your silliness.

“Come on, Mrs Dutiful Wife, you’ll have plenty of time for that, now let’s finally call it a day,” said Derek jokingly as he hugged your shoulders with one arm and started to walk out from the locker room next to you.

Dr Spencer Reid was standing next to his open locker, gazing forward but not looking at anything. His brows were furrowed, and he looked quite annoyed. Like, when a crossword puzzle was made incorrectly, ruining his whole morning. What’s funny is that he had no idea why he felt that way, which made him even more pissed.

“Coming, Reid?” came the question from Emily who was about to leave the small room. He noticed that the doctor was standing in one place, so she called out.

“Of course, sorry. I just zoned out for a moment. Long day.”

He hated not understanding exactly everything about himself.

thank you so much for reading my work, hope you're having an awesome day! divider from @cafekitsune gif from @reidgif

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hi may i please request swerve trying to be the human liason on the lost light's wimgmech untill they jump grab his shoulders do a pullup and smooch him.

Thank you! Hope your flights arent horrifically delayed.

Thank you for the request, and sorry for how long it took to finally get it out lol! Coincidentally my flights ended up being okay despite the hell I went through to get onto the planes.

I put a lot of thought into this request, and I wasn't entirely sure what you meant with Swerve being the reader's wingmech, so I went down this route. I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it's on the shorter side. Thanks again! :D

Wingmech

Pairing: IDW Swerve x Human Liason Reader

Word Count: 2181

Summary: After noticing you are lost in love with an anonymous mech, Swerve decides to help you prepare for going after the secret crush you have.

  Swerve has been watching you for a while now.

  It’s not uncommon for the Lost Light’s crew to focus on you. You are, after all, the only human aboard the Cybertronian exploration ship. Though you’ve been here for months, no bot can help but find you fascinating. And Swerve? Well…he’d never admit it to anyone, but his interest in you goes well beyond mere fascination. Yes, you're small, smaller than even him. Yes, you're soft, and squishy, and adorable, and sometimes he really wants to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you right on the lips after confessing his love-

  Okay. So maybe he has a bit of a crush on you. But that’s all it is! A crush that compels him to  keep tabs on where you go and what you do. He’s learned about you from the various conversations he’s listened to during busy nights. He knows you adore dogs and melt at the sight of cats (What are dogs? What are cats? Like hell he knows. He isn’t particularly caught up on his Earth knowledge). He knows you like to turn in early and wake up late. He knows you aren’t exactly a party person, and sometimes being surrounded by robots three times your size is incredibly overwhelming. And following that little tidbit, he understands you don’t like coming to his bar.

  So why are you here now?

  He’s watching you while he makes drinks. Your little form is tucked away in a corner at one of the smaller tables reserved for minicons, hunched over a notebook, eyes focused on the pages of written material he can’t read. Even when he zooms his optics in, your writing is far too small for him to coherently pick up on from this distance. With one hand propped against your cheek and the other idly tapping a pen against your head, you look far too troubled for someone who’s currently spending time in a place where all troubles are drunken away. It makes him curious and concerned. Why would you, someone who hates large crowds and loud environments, be writing in such a place?

  He needs to get to the bottom of it.

  Now, he knows what someone might say about this: “Swerve, it's none of your business. Swerve, they clearly don’t want to be bothered. Swerve, eavesdropping is bad.”

  Well, you know what he would say to all of that? “I’m a bartender. My business is everyone else’s business. That’s what being a bartender entails.”

  So yeah, he’s snooping. But it’s all for a good cause. Being around you is worth it. He’ll always take the chance to talk to you if he can.

  “Whatcha writing?” he asks when he pops up behind you with surprising stealthiness. You let out a surprised shriek and nearly jump right out of your seat. He barely catches a glimpse of your notebook’s contents before you slam it shut and cover it with your arms.

  “Swerve!” you yell, fleshy human cheeks flushing a wonderful pink color (Oh, how he loves the way you blush like that. He wants to make you do it more). “Don’t scare me like that!”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. You humans make the cutest sounds when you're startled.” He folds his servos behind his back and leans forward a little. “I don’t see you in the bar often. A place like this isn’t really the best for writing stories, ya know.”

  You sigh and slip your notebook into the knapsack you always carry around. Darn, he thinks, how will your secrets be spilled to him now? “I’m not writing stories. I’m just…doing research on something.”

  “Research,” he says. “In a bar.”

  “Yes. Research in a bar. Is that so hard to believe?”

  He does a quick scan of your features. The blush on your cheeks has deepened to a shade of red that almost matches his paint job. You're fiddling with your knapsack and guarding that notebook with your life. Suddenly, it comes upon him like a tidal wave; his smile widens with the victorious air of someone who just won a medal. “Oh, I know what's going on here,” he says. “You've been spying on someone, haven’t you?”

  Your reaction only further proves his theory. You look horrified, and the way you frantically rush to defend yourself is like a bright neon arrow pointing directly at your head. “What? No! Nonono, why would you think that?!”

  He laughs. “Oh, you totally are! Your notebook is probably chock-full of evidence, amiright? Wait, don’t tell me! Let me guess!”  He circles the table and plops down across from you. “Is it Ratchet? Nah, too grouchy. Cyclonus? Mm, too weird. Oh, oh! It’s Rodimus, isn’t it? It has to be Rodimus!”

  “What are you talking about?” you ask him.

  He leans forward and smirks. “You're in love, little one. Am I right, or am I right?”

  “I-I’m not-there’s no-” You stutter for a moment longer, then get a hold of your emotions and reel them in. Sitting back and going stone-faced, you stare at him with only the color of your blush signaling what you are currently going through. “I’m not in love.”

  Does it hurt to know you have a crush on someone who isn’t him? Absolutely? But telling you that would mean admitting the feelings he has for you, and no way is he doing that now. His spark aches with the sting of rejection, but he hides it well and decides messing with you will make him feel much better. “C’mon, squirt. You can’t lie to me. It’s as clear as day that someone on this ship has you smitten.”

  “It’s not someone on this ship. I’m a human.”

  “You being a human and us being mechs means nothing. How many months have you been aboard this ship?” He counts off his digits. “Two? Three? No, it’s been five months, hasn’t it? Five months with us and your little spark has finally decided humans just don’t compare to mechs anymore. Aw, how adorable.”

  You look like you want to jump across the table to snap his intake shut. Instead though, you slump back in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands across your face. “Is it really that obvious?”

  “To me? Yeah. But that’s only because I’ve picked up on your reactions. Plus, the fact that you came here to jot down ‘notes’ means…” Now he gets excited. “It has to be someone in this bar.”

  You regard him cautiously. “And what if it is? What will you do about it?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing! My job is to pour drinks and listen to people’s woes. What kind of reputation would I be giving this fine establishment if I were to go around tattling on my loyal customers?” He taps his index digit against his dermas. Scrap, this is really going to hurt him. But he wants to see you happy. “I could help you, you know.”

  “Help me?” you echo.

  “Yeah, why not?” he forces himself to say with enthusiasm. “I’m always ready to help a pal! I’ll be your wingmech! How’s that sound?”

  A wide smile splits across your face and you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle. “Wingmech? Seriously? That’s so cheesy, Swerve.”

  By the Allspark, hearing your laughter is music to his ears. He’s envious of whoever you are crushing on. They’re one lucky mech to have someone like you chasing after them.  But he swallows down his jealousy for your sake and puffs out his chassis proudly. “Cheesy or not, I’m sure I can help you woo your future sweetspark. All you gotta do is learn to use a little bit of the ol’ Swerve charm and bingo, this bot will be yours in no time. So, whattaya say? You wanna employ my humble services?”

  You bite your lower lip and look down at your knapsack. “I don’t know. The Swerve charm may not exactly work on the mech I’m thinking of.”

  “Aha!” He stands up and points at you. “So you admit you're in love!”

  You give him a pointed look. “Alright, alright, fine, I admit it! Yes, there’s someone on this ship I really like. I’ve been writing down things he may or may not enjoy so I can come up with ways to show him that…that I want to…askhimout.” This last part comes out as a weak mutter. It’s obviously difficult for you to admit it, but oh boy is Swerve glad you have.

  “So it’s a he. Hm. IIIInteresting. Mind telling me what he’s like?”

  You smile. “Well, he’s outgoing. And very enthusiastic about what he does. He always has an upbeat attitude and definitely knows how to make me laugh. Some might think he’s a bit of a wise-ass though.”

  Swerve chuckles. “Sounds like a real dream boat.”

  “You…have no idea.” The way you say it sounds strange to him, but he doesn’t think any more of it. You drum your fingers against the table. “What…what would you do if you wanted to tell him that…that you like him?”

  I wouldn’t. I’d tell you I like you and no one else. “I’d probably do something bold. Something that would really grab his attention, ya know?” He thinks. “Does he like you back?”

  “Well, you see…I-I think so? I’m not sure. I talk to him a lot, but we’re…kind of different. I’m definitely not like him, but we get along. The more I hang out with him, the more these feelings grow.” You stare at your hands. “I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this.”

  “No, no, it’s okay!” He’s quick to reassure you. “I want to help! Seriously! I said I’d be your wingmech, and I’m going to uphold my word! So, let’s think! You think he likes you, and you definitely like him back. He’s the extroverted type, bold and brash…so give him a show! Really show him that you want him and you to be together, and you appreciate all of the good company he’s given you since you boarded the ship. The key is to really hit him here.” He thumps his chassis. “Right in the spark. It’s all emotions, squirt! Nothing else to it!”

  “Emotions, huh?” Once again, that odd look crosses you. “Do you think we could…practice?”

  “Practice?”

  “Yeah, like, working on what I’ll do when I finally admit my feelings to him? Would that be okay with you?”

  “Oh, yes, totally!” He stands up. “C’mere, let’s go through it. Think about what you want to say, and then act it out to me.”

  You stand up as well and walk over to him. Looking down, he sees just how small you are compared to him; you barely make it up to his chassis. You study him, biting your bottom lip. You look so nervous. It makes him want to be gentle.

  “Don’t be shy,” he says softly. “There’s no reason to be. It’s just you and I here, yeah? No one will pay attention to us.”

  You draw in a deep breath. “Okay, Okay.” Shaking out your arms, you fixate on him determinedly. “I’m not going to say anything. I’m going to do something. Is that okay?”

  “Oh,” he says, a bit confused. “Sure, yeah! What are you going to do?”

  You take a step back. Then, you jump forward, and he’s startled when you grab his shoulders and pull yourself up. His optics widen when you lean in and give him a short kiss. Every mechanical nerve in his body sings when he feels your lips on his, and he seems to lose control of himself, becoming nothing more than a statue.

  Then, it’s over. You let him go and drop back down, taking a step back and looking at him anxiously. He stares at you, air whooshing in and out of his intake as his systems attempt to cool.

  “It’s…It’s me?” he whispers.

  You lower your head and nod.

  He can’t talk. He can’t make a sound. It’s only for a good few seconds, but when he finally regains control of his vocalizer, he begins to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. And then he’s picking you up and spinning you around in a tight hug. “You like me!” he cries. “You like me, you like me!” He couldn’t care less if anyone else in the bar is watching this. The one he’s been crushing on for months has been crushing on him back!

  You laugh along with him. “It took you this long to figure it out? I’ve been dropping hints since we started this conversation!”

  “That’s why you’ve been doing research in the bar! Primus, how did I not realize it sooner?” He holds you back so he can see your brilliant smile. It makes him melt. “I can’t believe you really like me,” he whispers.

  You cup his faceplate in your hands. “I’m guessing your happy about it, Mr. Wingmech?”

  He kisses you again, leaning into your touch. “Well…looks like my humble services paid off.” He pauses. “So…what did you think of the Swerve charm?”

[brokebonewritings]

Moonlight Lovers

Gale Dekarios x Fem! Reader

Tags: 18+, Fluff, Smut, Domestic Bliss

Summary: You and Gale spend a lust filled evening together. One of the many shortly after returning to Waterdeep and getting married.

Word Count: 1.9K

Navigation || Masterlist

"The moon is a beautiful sight tonight, isn't it."

You jump as the husky voice appears to suddenly, but you turn around knowing that it's your husband. Gale leans in the doorway of the balcony as you stand at the rail looking up at the stars. You smile as you watch him walk to you, placing a kiss at the temple of your head.

As the cool breeze ruffled your hair, you closed your eyes and leaned into Gale's touch. His presence was a comforting anchor amidst the vastness of the night sky. Together, you both gazed at the luminous moon, its ethereal glow casting a soft radiance over the world below.

It seemed as if time stood still in that moment. The worries and troubles that had plagued you throughout the day melted away. You often sought solace in the late hours of the night, finding solace in the gentle dance between darkness and light.

Lost in your own thoughts, you whispered, "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to touch the moon."

Gale chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Oh darling, if only we could reach out and grasp it. But sometimes, it's the beauty of things just beyond our reach that enthralls us the most."

You turned to look at Gale, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of longing and wonder. There was a distant look in his gaze, as if he were envisioning making it a reality. It was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him - his ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Lost in the allure of the night, you both continued to stand there. One of his hands holding your waist, as the other grips the rail. The world around you fell away as you found yourselves drifting into a shared reverie.

Suddenly a shooting star streaked across the sky, drawing a gasp of wonder from you. It was as if the universe was responding to your unspoken desires, affirming that there was indeed still magic left in this world.

"You've bewitched me, truly, you are even more stunning than the moon." Gale whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustling of the wind. "I would give anything to make your dreams come true."

You turned to face him, your heart swelling with love for this man who cherished every ounce of your being. "And I, you," you replied, a tender smile gracing your lips.

He leans in and nuzzles your jawline with his nose. Peppering your skin with light kisses. As Goosebumps prickle your skin, you feel an electric current surge through your veins.

In that moment, you both knew that the moon was not the only thing that held irresistible allure in the night sky. The depth of your love for each other seemed to transcend the earthly realm, reaching heights that only the stars could fathom.

Gale's lips find yours, and the world around you dissolves into a sea of passion and desire. In each kiss, there is an unspoken promise of forever, a pledge to explore the wonders of life together.

"Do you ever regret what we have done?" You ask, the question comes suddenly and without warning. This causes him to stop his shower of his kisses.

Gale pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. His hand gently brushes against your cheek as he speaks, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Regret? Never," he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. "Every step we've taken, every choice we've made, has led us to this moment. And in this moment, I am the happiest man alive."

"I don't regret it either," you reply softly, your fingers intertwining with Gale's. "All those risks we took, all those obstacles we overcame, they were worth it to be here—to be with you."

His face softens, his eyes reflecting a profound sense of gratitude. "To be with you," he echoes, his voice filled with an overwhelming tenderness. "There is nothing in this world I would trade for the love we share."

You're quick to turn and jump in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the railing. Kissing him with full passion, you let your love and desire consume you both.

"You really are going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

"I might be but I think you've got me in a bind here, Mr. Dekarios."

"How so?"

Biting at his lower lip, and pulling ever so lightly. You hear him groan at the sensation. "Because my body, and soul are forever yours."

Gale's eyes darken with desire as he holds you tighter, his hands roaming over your body. "And mine, my love, belongs to you," he whispers huskily, his voice filled with an intoxicating mix of passion and adoration.

Without breaking eye contact, Gale carries you across the threshold into the bedroom. You had forgotten just how strong your husband was. When he approached the bed, he laid you down gently before climbing above you.

His eyes burn with a hunger that matches your own, igniting a fire within your veins. As he hovers above you, you feel the weight of his desire pressing against your body, a tantalizing promise of the passion to come.

With a feather-light touch, his fingertips trace the contours of your face, leaving a trail of fiery sensations in their wake. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, an explosion of longing and need.

Clothing becomes an unnecessary barrier as he undresses you with gentle urgency. After freeing your breasts from the night shirt you were wearing, he gently kisses around your nipple before taking it into his mouth.

You arch your back, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The sensation is exquisite. Gale's hands continue to explore every inch of your body, leaving you panting with need.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gale's eyes lock onto yours, the desire within them burning hotter than any flame. He leans down, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is more intense, more desperate than any you've shared before.

His hands continue to roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a yearning that threatens to consume you both.

As he presses you into the mattress, he lowers his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. You can't help but moan, your body trembling with pleasure.

His fingers trail along your inner thigh, the anticipation building with every stroke. You let out a soft whimper, your body begging for more.

Finally, he reaches the apex of your desire, his fingers lightly caressing your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hips bucking against his hand in a desperate attempt to find release.

Gale smiles, his eyes filled with lust. "You're mine, always." he growls, his voice low.

And with that promise, he slides two fingers inside you. You gasp as your body adjusts to the overwhelming invasion. Your hand grips his forearm, nails digging into his flash as he begins to pump his digits into you.

Your body trembles, and your mind is hazy with desire. You can feel him watching you, his gaze makes your heart race even faster.

His fingers continue pushing deeper, stretching you wide as he adds a third.

"Please," you whimper. "Please, I need more."

Gale responds by replacing his fingers with his mouth, his tongue lapping at the delicate folds of your core. The need for release consumes you completely. He knows just what to do, just how to make you come undone.

His tongue keeps searching, delving deeper, threatening to pull you into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body is aflame, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"Gale, I swear to you, if you do not take me right this instant, you will become a widower." You pant through your moans.

At the sound of your plea, Gale removes his mouth from your core and positions himself between your legs. "Come now, we can't have that now can we?"

You feel the swollen head of his erection brush against your entrance. As he pushes in, you gasp, your body stretching to accommodate him. You feel his warmth enveloping you, and you can't help but whimper at the sensation.

He begins to move, his hips swaying in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and your nails digging into his back.

He pulls almost all the way out, leaving only the head of his erection inside you, and then thrusts in deep once more. Your eyes meet, and he leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he continues to move inside you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and the sensation becomes exhilarating. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every thrust.

"I need you to tell me where to come." He says, his voice hoarse with desire.

Moaning loudly, you respond "Please, Inside me. Come inside me."

"You want me to fill you?" He grunts, as he thrusts in you. "Want to feel my seed spill inside of you." 

"Yes! Gale, fuck yes!" You scream.

His eyes glint with hunger, and he obliges, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. You gasp, your head thrown back in pleasure as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.

"So fucking tight," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to make me come"

You reach up, your nails raking across his back, and grimace as you feel his hand cup one of your breasts. His fingers toy with your sensitive nipple, his thumb brushing against it in circles that send shivers down your spine.

Body screaming for release, you know it's close. You arch your back and beg him to keep going. With each thrust you feel his hips hitting against your clit. Your walls begin to clench around him, and you feel yourself tightening, ready to release.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Gale groans and thrusts deeper, harder, driving you over the edge. With a loud cry, you explode around him. Body shaking with pleasure.

His own seed begins to spill into you, filling you completely. As you continue to pant, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Gale's thrusts slow and then stop.

He collapses onto you, his weight heavy but comforting, as his heart beats wildly against your chest in sync with yours. 

You both lie there, spent and breathless, your bodies melded together as one. The sweat from the exertion mingles with the remnants of your passion, leaving your skin glistening in the dim light of the room.

Gently, Gale lifts himself off you, his gaze never leaving yours. He kisses you tenderly, his lips soft and warm against yours, and you can taste the remnants of your lovemaking on his tongue.

As he pulls away, he looks down at your now-swollen lips, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "That was incredible," he whispers, "You are incredible."

"As are you." You say, gently caressing his face.

Gale pulls up the covers and wraps you in his arms, his body still warm from the passion that just ensued. As he holds you close, your bodies still panting heavily from the exertion, you can help but marvel at the connection you share.

You close your eyes, feeling Gale's heartbeat against your cheek. "I love you more than anything,"

Gale responds with a sigh, "And I, you."

The words linger in the air as you both drift off, your bodies still entwined, and the promise of more passion to come.

join my taglist!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hello , love your content! Helps me so much with writing!! I saw your cat post yesterday and I was wondering if you had notes for horses too? If not it’s okay. You are doing gods work thank you!!!<3

Writing Notes: Horses & their Personalities

According to J. Warren Evans in the popular animal science textbook Horses: A Guide to Selection, Care and Employment, horses have 6 basic temperament types. Here’s a rundown on the temperament types and how each is best handled:

Quiet. This horse is commonly referred to as bomb-proof by owners and a packer by riding instructors for his unreactive nature. He will tolerate almost anything, from a fluttering flag to an uncoordinated rider with inexperienced hands. This type can generally be trusted to behave safely and to build the confidence of beginner riders, while a more advanced rider might consider him too dull.

Interested. These horses are great for riders with a little training and experience. In well-trained hands, these horses pay attention to the rider’s aids but aren’t upset by them. While they are aware of their environment and respond to things going on around them, it’s unusual for them to react with fight-or-flight behavior. As long as this horse is handled with consideration and sensitivity, riders will seldom go wrong with this sort. Many of the horses you see collecting ribbons at local horse shows fit into this category, as they are both animated and dependable.

Nervous. Nervous is the personality type truest to equine nature, and consequently many horses fit into this category. The flight response in nervous horses is well-developed. They spook easily, perhaps even bolting to escape from perceived dangers all around. They tend to carry their heads high, looking for trouble and ready to react. For a quiet and experienced rider, this horse can eventually make a very nice mount. For a tentative rider, he can be a wreck waiting to happen. Most can eventually develop some trust and a sense of security from confident yet sympathetic riders who allow them to progress in training. They require extreme patience and confident handling from the rider. You cannot rush the trust they require before they can progress. If you can learn to work with the challenge, these horses can be worth it and wonderful to show as they tend to possess an extra brilliance in spirit and movement.

Extremely Nervous. These horses are so reactive that virtually anything can set them off, and even changes in footing or shadows on the ground could cause fearful explosions at any time. Calm, consistent handling while slowly expanding their comfort zones will ultimately benefit them, but the road will be long and often dangerous. You must stay especially alert at all times. These horses are best left to professionals or to individuals with loads of experience and a solid foundation in equine behavior principles.

Stubborn. These horses tend to resent work and try to find a way out of it. When pushed, they often become irritable and balky, sometimes even exploding in temper. Trainers often encounter behavior that sets back training, requiring repetitions of lessons already learned. These horses also require riders with a lot of patience, but while the nervous horse requires a quiet hand, stubborn horses need a tactful yet firm approach.

Treacherous. These horses, with the notable exception of a few naturally aggressive stallions, are nearly always either a product of bad handling or benign neglect. They either haven’t learned to respect humans or have learned to actively resent them. Such horses may unexpectedly attack humans by kicking, biting or stomping on them. Horses who simply lack an understanding of their place below humans on the dominance hierarchy may sometimes be reformed by the most experienced of handlers. Sadly, euthanasia is sometimes the only safe solution for savage horses. Fortunately, such horses are rare.

Many horses seem to fluctuate daily between types. But this is what makes each ride unique and each day a lesson.

In addition to the above mentioned temperaments, the following personalities are reported to be observed in horses:

Friendly. Friendly types enjoy human companionship and frequently form strong bonds with their riders. They are the kind of horses that will nickel when they see you coming and enjoy being groomed and fussed over. They are often very willing partners and can excel in any discipline, although they may lack the competitiveness of some of the other types. These horses make excellent first mounts for beginners because they are so forgiving and willing to please. They are also frequently used in therapeutic riding programs because of their gentle nature.

Cuddler. Cuddlers are horses that love physical affection. They enjoy being close to their humans and often seek out physical contact. They frequently nuzzle, rest their heads on you, and even fall asleep while being groomed. This type of horse is often very affectionate and bonds strongly with its riders. They make excellent mounts for beginners and children because they are so patient and gentle. Cuddlers are often used in therapeutic riding programs because of their calming presence.

Go-Getter. Go-getters are horses that are always up for a challenge. They love to work and are very motivated by food, praise, and attention. These types of horses often excel in competition because they are so eager to please their riders. They can be a bit challenging to train because they can be easily bored. However, once they trust their rider, they will give their all in any situation. These horses make excellent mounts for experienced riders who are looking for a willing partner.

Laid-Back. Laid-back types are the chillaxed of the horse world. They are not particularly motivated by food, praise, or attention. They often enjoy a good scratch and will stand quietly while being groomed, but they are not usually fond of being fussed over. These horses frequently lack motivation and can be challenging to train. However, once they trust their rider, they can be very reliable partners. These horses make excellent mounts for experienced riders who are looking for a laid-back mount.

Of course, not every horse fits perfectly into one of these categories. Many horses have traits from multiple types or their own unique combination of qualities. The best way to get to know your horse's personality is to spend time with them and observe their behaviour.

Temperament - can be defined as innate properties of the nervous system, whereas personality includes the complex behavioral traits acquired through life.

Association between personality and behavior is important for breeding, selection, and training of horses. Sackman & Houpt (2018) evaluated if equine personality components previously identified in Japan and Europe were consistent when applied to American horses.

They examined the association of personality with breed, age, sex, management, training, stereotypies, and misbehaviors.

The owner directed personality survey consisted of 25 questions.

An online version of the survey was created.

The principal component analysis method was used to associate behavioral traits with personality components.

Factor analysis with orthogonal transformation was performed on scores for personality-related questions.

A total of 847 survey responses were used.

Quarter Horses, “other” breed, and Thoroughbred were the most common breeds.

Three principal personality components were extracted as each behavioral trait belonged to one of these three components.

Arabians, Thoroughbreds, Saddlebreds, and Walking horses were the most nervous and Quarter Horses, and Paints, Appaloosas, and Drafts were the least nervous.

Using the key personality components, they were able to establish and refute links between personality type such as nervousness, curiosity, and threatening and trained discipline.

They found that horses who kicked doors, bit, and had more than one stereotypy had a more threatening personality than those horses with no stereotypy.

Genetics, as demonstrated by an association between personality components and breed, play the largest role in equine personality with environmental factors, such as association and experience with humans, social contact, and housing applying a significant influence on the expression of specific behaviors/traits.

All horses are individuals with their own unique personality traits, just like people. However, there are some generalisations that can be made about different types of horses based on their breed, history, and physical characteristics.

Some popular horse types include:

American Quarter Horse: These horses are known for their athleticism and speed and are often used in rodeos and racing.

Arabian: Arabians are one of the oldest horse breeds in the world and are known for their intelligence and stamina.

Icelandic: These hardy horses are used for a variety of purposes including riding, pulling carts, and herding sheep.

When it comes to personalities, some horses are more outgoing and social while others are more independent and aloof.

Some horses are very curious and playful, while others are calmer and more serious.

There is no right or wrong when it comes to horse personalities, but it is important to match the right horse with the right owner based on their individual needs and personality traits.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

You are too lovely, thanks so much! Hope this helps with your writing <3

[jermer10]

Hi! I absolutely love the falling asleep on the mercs' shoulder headcanons!

May I request headcanons for the support mercs, where the reader wakes them up in tears from a terrible day that caused terrible dreams, and asks to stay with them for the night?

TF2 support mercs with reader who experiences nightmares

gn reader | thank you sm anon!! i really enjoyed writing this one!

includes: medic, sniper, spy

drabbles under the cut :P

Medic: - he was difficult to wake up, initially swatting your hand away and mumbling something in german - medic already doesn't get enough sleep, being an insomniac, and it was one of those rare nights he had managed to pry himself away from his desk before passing out - once he heard your quiet sobs though, he sat up, rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, and immediately began questioning you - "vhat's wrong y/n? are you alright? are you hurt?" - you looked so tired, face red, hair a mess, shirt sticking to your skin with sweat - "i've had such a shitty day, i-im just so upset and tired, then i have this sh-shitty dream." he hums empathetically as you sobbed out an explanation - "vould you...like to sleep here tonight?" you look up at him, eyes still wet with tears and face puffy, nodding, you crawled into bed next to him - it felt awkward at first, having the man wrap his muscular arms around you, but eventually you melt into his warm embrace, softly drifting off - he didn't know why you came to him with these troubles, but the way your chest moved as you breathed, the pieces of your hair framing your face, the smell of your skin and hair, it was worth his loss of sleep - he was absolutely enamored with you

Sniper: - the trek to the van from the dormitories inside base was terrifying, adding onto your already heightened senses from the nightmare you had just experienced - this wasn't the first time you had gone to him for a coffee after hours, just as the other times, the outside light of his camper was on - you knocked on the screen door, the sound rattling into the silence of the night, you grew even more paranoid - "who's there?" he growled, it made you wonder if he had encounters with no so friendly faces out here before - "um, it's just me, y/n..." you sniffled, patting your hair down in an attempt to make yourself look more presentable - he opened the doors swiftly, allowing you to step inside - when he noticed you had been crying, he motioned for you to sit in his bed, and walking over to start the kettle - you talked about your nightmare, how shitty your day had been, you laughed at jokes, gossiped, and drowsiness overtook you - "d'ya wanna sleep here tonight? it's gettin' pretty late." he seemed embarrassed at his own question, waving a vague gesture at the bed - you smiled, accepting his request, and getting comfortable next to the australian - he couldn't help but stare at you, taking in your features, the way you rolled around in your sleep, how your body seemed to twitch with every subtle movement made his heart race and his skin hot - sniper wasn't going to sleep that night, he didn't need it

Spy: - sometimes you wondered if the man ever slept at all, you would often walk past his study and see him up, reading or lounging around - so when you awoke from a particularly dreadful nightmare, you knew who to look for - he had been up for hours, sleep beginning to take hold until he heard the shaky knock on the wooden doorframe - and he looked up, book in hand, to see you - spy beckoned for you to enter, a tired smile graced his sharp features, he looked so different without the mask - "um, i was just wondering if i could stay in here tonight, i've h-had a pretty bad dream and-" he cut you off by holding a finger up - "of course mon amour, come." he pet the space next to him on the lounge, you obliged and sat, peering over at the novel he was reading - "would you like for me to read it to you?" you nodded, barely making out the words in your tearful, drowsy state - the words of the novel swam in your head, each pass of the tide pushing you into slumber - he stopped reading after he was sure you had fallen asleep, placing the book on his stained mahogany coffee table, retrieving a blanket from his room to place over the two of you - spy spooned you from behind, gently holding you in place on the couch, you were so peaceful, so beautiful - he would ask about your nightmare in the morning, but for now, he wanted you to sleep

[malegains]

I use Bing to make my pics. Go to Bing’s website, click images, click create. Make an account if you need to, it’s worth it. You can use a throwaway email. Use naturalistic language, separate phrases by commas, the closer to the top a phrase is the more it’s weighted.

I make this post because I get the strong sense the Bing party will be over soon. Every day the AI cottons on to phrases and chokes on things you used to be able to sneak past. Stuff that was safe and useful a day or two ago now result in a dreaded Prompt Blocked (too many of those and you’ll get suspended, it hasn’t happened to me but it seems the threshold is low).

Safe prompts return four images. Fewer than four mean the missing ones were “not safe.” A prompt that processes but gives no results, or “egg dogs” is not too much of a cause for worry - retool, try again. Sometimes I don’t even change anything, and the one result I get on the second try is such a freakshow that it was worth it.

A prompt that is rejected without processing IS a worry and you should probably abort, as explained. However, keep in mind it’s not just sexy stuff that can trip that wire. I once got a harsh warning because I put “Phoenix park, Dublin.” I deleted that and it ran no problem. Avoid any and all political controversy (sigh. I know).

Recommendations:

Using age, profession, and nationality can influence the look of the model very easily. “French rugby player” is a go to for me, for example. In general, “rugby player” is cheat code for “make him sexy.” The mind of the machine, what can I say.

Use descriptive phrases of action and location to engineer what you want to see. Be creative and be specific. “Reading a placard at a botanical garden,” for instance. It seems this allows more extreme kinky stuff to sneak past the filter. I usually start with “side view” because otherwise you only ever get models looking straight ahead.

Grey sweat pants has become a trigger (they caught on). However, “gray pants” still works and gives some very tasty results.

High social cache locations and activities also seem to help. I got some WILD and EXTREME hyper images from adding “goofing around on stage at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.” Paired with “cast as a fairy in A Midsummer Night’s Dream” and the mega bubble butts and thick thighs were BULGING, as long as you didn’t mind a little tutu and fairy wings (the corny goofy masculine dude having fun facial expression that the earlier inclusion of “goofy” brought really worked in this instance). Most of these freaks were NAKED and I didn’t even ask for that!!! (No dong of course, this is Microsoft still)

Mention of glutes, butts, asses, etc are very dangerous and usually get you in trouble. I found some traction with “gluteal mass” but it got wise, and “bulging lower back muscles” used to be interpreted as glutes but seemingly no longer. “Disturbingly huge hamstrings” or “jaw-droppingly large hamstrings” does work to get That Ass sometimes, I guess because the computer has a fuzzy idea of the posterior chain.

Also, “pecs” used to be safe but is now also on the danger list. “Pectoral muscles” still seems safe, for now.

ALWAYS include shoes or footwear if you don’t want a tight cropped image. Black athletic shoes, sandals, converse sneakers, dress shoes, fluevog shoes if you’re making a fancy beef heap. Avoid boots. “Leather boots” once got me in trouble with the filter all by itself.

Adding a personality or mood descriptor near the top seems to humanize and give vitality to the outcome. Intense, goofy, outgoing, exuberant, shy - these have all done wonderful work for me.

If you’re into hyper / immobile muscle, imagining scenario where they’re constricted by space is useful. A prompt which just (“just”) gives a realistic super heavyweight will give an appalling mockery of the human form if you add “crammed into the front seat of his car.” Get creative. Elevators and doorways haven’t worked well, but cars, trains, planes, busses, subways, and CHAIRS of all descriptions have done well. Also, scooters and bicycles and mopeds really bring out the super freaks for whatever reason.

I write this to encourage you to go create some fleshcrafted sexy abominations of your own while it’s still possible. My sense is this party is only going to last a little while. I’ve already got more than 1000 images to share so, my larder is stocked to supply this blog for a while. But the more freaks we make while the freak factory is still in production, the better.

Get cooking!

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

Boyfriends... - Ben 10

Description: Something Ben did has Rook questioning human customs. So, he calls Gwen to ask if it's normal.

Relationships: Rook/Ben, Gwen/Kevin, Rook&Gwen

Tags: Humor, Fluff, Friendship

Ao3: Here

-

Rook could not conceivably believe that this was normal human behavior. So, in times such as these, he called Gwen – she was always a reliable source of information. After leaving Ben’s house for the day, Rook got into his Proto-Truk and dialed Gwen’s number while driving back to headquarters.

“Hello?” Gwen’s voice sounded through the cabin after three rings.

“Hello, Gwen.” Rook replied, focusing on the road. “Apologies if I have interrupted anything, but I have a question I need to ask you.”

Over the phone Rook could hear footsteps and a door closing, then Gwen said seriously, “You didn’t interrupt anything. Is everything okay?”

It had not been Rook’s intention to worry her, and it suddenly occurred to him that he had probably sounded very cryptic. “Everything is quite well,” he replied evenly. “I merely have a question regarding human behavior I was hoping you could answer.”

Gwen laughed over the phone. “And here I was stepping away because you sounded so serious.”

“I am sorry for the distress.”

“Misunderstanding, not distress,” Gwen corrected, amused. “What’s your question?”

Once again reminded about why he called, Rook grimaced. “Ben did something while we were at his house that perplexed me, and I was hoping you could tell me if this is normal.” Gwen remained silent, which prompted Rook to continue. “We decided to have a movie date at his house, and after the first movie ended he told me that I could choose the next one.”

“How is that weird?” Gwen asked.

“It is not,” Rook replied. “It is what happened after that I found weird. While I searched for a movie Ben got up from the couch and went to the kitchen.”

“Uh huh? And?”

“Well, when he returned, he held a plate that had a single pancake on it. He proceeded to sit back down and eat it in silence. When I went to the kitchen I found that there were no other pancakes, which means that Ben measured out the ingredients for a single pancake and did not offer to make me any.” Rook paused. “Perhaps I am overthinking this but it seemed very odd at the moment.”

“I swear, sometimes I think boyfriends aren’t worth the trouble,” Gwen sighed over the phone. She sounded rather exasperated in Rook’s option. “No, Rook, that is not normal human behavior at all.”

“That is a relief.” Rook smiled. “I was beginning to think I was overreacting.”

“I can assure you, you weren’t.” Gwen laughed. “You want to hear something Kevin did the other night?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Get this,” Gwen began. “Like two nights ago I woke up to Kevin calling my name. When I opened my eyes, the clock on my nightstand read three in the morning!”

“Something must have been wrong.” Rook frowned.

“That’s what I thought too,” Gwen agreed. “But when I asked what was wrong he replied, ‘nothing. Here, babe. I brought you a rib’.”

Rook blinked. “Wait… what?”

“I had the same thought! Apparently Kevin was slow cooking some ribs and I guess they were done in the middle of the night. We ended up eating ribs in bed at three in the morning. It was the weirdest experience ever!”

Rook did not know what to say to that. It was indeed odd. So, he said the only thing he could think of. “Did they taste good?”

“They were delicious!” Gwen yelled. “But that’s not the point.”

“I agree,” Rook nodded. “Not the point.”

“You know, Rook. Sometimes I wonder if you didn’t get the idiot gene all boys have since you’re not human. Either that or you weren’t dropped on your head as a baby.”

“Ben and Kevin were dropped on their heads as babies?” Rook frowned. “That is much cause for concern. Do you know if they suffered any brain damage?”

“I don’t think they actually were,” Gwen smiled over the phone. “That’s just my working theory on why they can be such idiots sometimes.”

“Still,” Rook hummed. “We love them anyway.”

“Yeah,” Gwen agreed. “We do love them anyway.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: If you know you know ;)

No but this literally came to me at 1 in the morning, and it is the dumbest thing I have ever written. Please, move forth with your night/day and think no more of this silly little one-shot

[fandomworld9728]

Applebowl scenario idea! Ever watched the road to el dorado? Particular one of the characters named Chel? Well I was wondering about Lucifer’s harm reacting to him wearing Chel’s outfit? It’s basically Angel’s idea of “promoting” the hotel much to Charlie’s protest mainly because she likely knew the amount of sinners would be thirsting after her dad

I love that movie! And I love this idea also!

👆 This is the outfit in question. Honestly, this is something I could picture Lucifer dressing up just for the fun of it.

Since you didn't specify who all you wanted in the applebowl, I'll be sticking to our main three of Vox, Alastor, Adam. I'll throw in a bonus Angel Dust reaction snice it was his bright idea. 😘

Applebowl - Reacting to Lucifer in Chel's Outfit:

Staticapple/Radioapple/Adamsapple AU

Alastor:

Alator wasn't sure what he was looking at. What the hell was his king wearing? Who put him in such a ridiculous and provocative outfit and why?

"Oh, hey there smiles. You're just in time. Doesn't Lucifer look great?" 

"I take it that this was your doing? Why would you dress the King of Hell up in mere scraps?"

Alastor was dodging the question, and he knew it. But he was conflicted. Lucifer was practically naked. This outfit, if you could even call it that, only covered the most important areas. And it just barely did that!

While it gave the radio demon a fantastic view of the Fallen Angel's pale, smooth skin, it gave everyone else that same view! Satan forbid if anyone outside their strange little family saw this.

"Charlie put me in charge of the hotel's social media page. So, I thought puttin' our lovely little Luci here in an outfit from a popular movie among humans would make him seem more relatable. Plus, it makes for quite a sight, don't it?"

That knowing smile... Angel Dust knew what he was doing. Alastor was starting to feel cornered. When he felt cornered, he would bite.

"I will not allow you to sully his majesty's image like this."

"Too bad. The pictures have already been posted."

The lights in the hotel flickered before going out, leaving just an eerie green glow in their place from Alastor's power.

"What did you say?"

Vox:

When Velvette had told him to check out the hotel's Sinstagram account, that something interesting had been posted, Vox had not been expecting to see Lucifer in cosplay. Especially not in Chel cosplay. Who in the Seven Circles would put the king in that sort of outfit to show off to all of Hell?

Though, from a business standpoint it made sense. Sex sells, and Lucifer was the living embodiment of temptation. Angel Dust must have been the one to set this up. Clever boy.

Not only would this little stunt boost Lucifer's public image and gain more attention for the hotel, but would also mess with Alastor, Adam and himself.

They'd have to work together if they didn't want all of Hell drooling over the Fallen Angel. However, it would hurt anyone if the Overlord kept a few copies of these pictures for himself.

Maybe he could even convince Lucifer to wear the outfit in the bedroom sometime. Can't let something so pretty go to waste now, could they?

Adam:

What the fuck did he just walk in on? Coming back from running errands for the princess, Adam had a front row seat to the edge lord trying to beat the ever-loving shit out of the porn star.

"Angel, I told you this was a bad idea! Alastor put him down!" 

"Worth it!"

". . .What the fuck is going on?"

"Adam! You're back! Um... so... Angel here thought it would be a good idea to dress up my dad in a specific outfit. And now Alastor is really upset about it. Because it's all over Sinstagram."

All of this was over some pictures? What could Lucifer be wearing that could cause this much trouble? The first man swore that that guy was nothing but a trouble magnet. Turning his attention to the Fallen Angel, Adam's jaw hit the floor.

Lucifer was already a hot piece of ass but dammit if he wasn't drop dead gorgeous and working that outfit. He could understand Alastor's reaction now. All of Hell gets to see this? No fucking way. They needed to get those pictures taken down and any copies of them burnt. But first…

"Hey smiles. Adam is takin' Lucifer somewhere."

"What? Get back here!"

"Don't fucking rat me out to save your own skin!"

Angel Dust:

Okay. Did he get his ass beat? Yes. But it was worth it for all the reactions. Alastor's jealously and possessiveness was in full swing and was currently being taken out on Adam. He boosted Lucifer's self-confidence and the hotel's following. They should be getting some new guests soon.

Angel Dust knew he was a genius, but this was one of his best ideas. Maybe he could convince Charlie to sell the prints to raise money for the hotel or something. Honestly, he was mostly doing this for the drama. And to be a good friend.

Lucifer needed the pick me up and some good sex. Now he had both. Angel couldn't believe how self-conscious the King of Hell was. The most beautiful angel in Heaven? The living embodiment of temptation? Being fought over by three guys who are all totally in love with him? It was time he saw his worth and Angel was gonna be the one to make him see that.

Plus... as a bonus he got to have one of the hottest guys in the world as his personal dress up doll. If he didn't value his life, he'd offer up his services.

[thesolaireslawyer]

My Blood

A/N - as we go on to day 2 of redactober it is that I must confess- I don't write for Anton- and forcin myself too will not be pretty- so we may have to do sumin else-

Deputy Read By The Lovely @achios

The Prompt Was - Asininity

Adam(Technically) x Lovely Angsty(?)

TW - Noncon biting, kidnapping, Adam, mentions of screaming, Self Blame

I gave up resisting a long time ago. Resisting made it worse. It made him excited, and it caused him to bite down harder. Though not making an effort to fight back seemed to upset him more. Guess what they say is true, there is no rest for the wicked. 

Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened had I stayed away from that place. It may be possible I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be trapped, screaming for a man who can’t find me— screaming for someone just like him.

But Vincent is different. He listens. He wouldn’t do this... would he? He had lost control once already. Am I safer with him? No! Don’t listen to those words. No matter how many times he calls you Lovely, he and Vincent aren’t the same. And you know that. Do I know that? 

The voices in my head get louder by the second. Some say give up; others say give in— and I don’t know what to do.  Should I listen to them? They get louder by the second. The loudest one tells me to give up, while another one, barely audible, tells me to fight back. 

I don’t have the strength to. Even if I did manage to get free, what would I do? Nothing, because I’m weak. I went looking for the attention of a man who didn’t want to entertain a non-believing human. Even if I could somehow convince myself this wasn’t real— and God, did I want to—I couldn’t.

The pain in my neck told me otherwise. The cries I was making for Vincent sounded like Adam. And the “no’s” turning into “yes’s” told me magic was real. Everything in this situation showed me just how powerless I was.

Was my blood good? Was it really that great? It honestly didn’t seem worth the trouble. Though neither did living. Not like this. I’d rather die than feel his cold hands touch me again. I’d rather die than scream his name one last time. But... that's not how life works. 

Or at least that's not how mine works. I can hear footsteps. They were his; I remember them. Hearing them shortly after that front door shut and sealed my fate. I heard those same footsteps. 

His footsteps... I don’t think I could ever forget them—not with all the pain he has caused me. From a young age, I was taught play stupid games and win stupid prizes, and yet, I can’t seem to stop playing these games. 

So I keep winning stupid prizes. It's cold.. It's been cold for a while. I don’t like the cold. Could he be here right now? I want to turn my head but I don’t want to see him.. No, I want to face him i want him to pay. 

For everything he did to me. That loudest voice started to quieter while the barely audible one got louder. As I felt his teeth graze my neck something in me snapped. Something explosive.. Something dangerous.

When teeth met flesh he met lighting. And I lost the last of my strength.. Everything was so blurry, and I felt so weak. I could make out two figures. I didn’t have the strength to fight off another vampire. 

For my sake, I hoped it was Vincent. I hoped it was him.. He was the only man I trusted in this empowered world now. Could you save me from him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist @dawnofiight @achios @sunsickcrab @ashertickler @yournewmusictaste

[rockermazy]

All singing in the show is canonically diegetic - meaning that all singing 100% takes place in-universe, for all the characters to hear and potentially participate in.

In the first (non-pilot) episode, the " Story of Hell" book, as read by Charlie, states that Lillith "empower[ed] demon-kind with her voice and her songs - and as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power." After the extermination began, Lilith's "dream was passed down to her precious daughter, the Princess of Hell", who is presumably Charlie herself. Two scenes later, Charlie is in musical-notation hammerspace with other denizens, being the cognito hazard that she is.

In episode 7, Rosie invites Charlie to rally Cannibal Town in defending the hotel during the upcoming extermination. When Charlie initially fails, Rosie asks how she normally explains her hotel. Charlie replies, "Through singing". Singing is canonically a gift of both Charlie and every demon - both Hellborn and Sinner.

Which leads me to a theory: One thing that's been nagging me since the pilot, is how Lucifer and Lilith have been fucking for nearly 6,000 years, but only NOW decided to have a daughter in the 21st century. It makes Charlie's existence look almost Mary Sue-ish*. After watching Helluva Boss, it made more sense that Charlie might be an "insurance baby", much like Octavia is to Stolas' lineage. Lucifer might not be unkillable. Carmine and the hotel battle of episode 8 have both demonstrated that angels can be killed with the right ammunition. But why was Charlie born now, in the 21st century? My theory is that Heaven asked Lilith to leave Hell, hoping she'd take her song with her. Heaven knew that Lilith was the one making Hell stronger through her songs. Charlie uses song to rally the people around her.

Husk used song to heal.

Song, even when used to butt heads, (ex: Lucifer vs Alastor), will make combatants drop valuable info, basically outing themselves to everyone within earshot in this universe.

My guess is that a conversation sometime in the past went something like this: Heaven: Lilith, bitch - we see what you're doing. Stop teaching Hell how to sing - the bonding and wholesomeness is threatening our status quo." Lilith: No. Heaven: Fine, we'll exterminate. Lilith: (years later, looking at Carmine's charts) hmmm... the number of sinners getting exterminated each year seems to be climbing. Heaven might want all of us dead. Hey, Luci-boo... get your depressed-ass over here. You wanna make a kid this time? (Waits til Charlie is somewhat grown, and asks Heaven for a "meeting".) Lilith: ok, I have got an offer you cannot refuse - I will never EVER sing again, and my power will leave with me - IF you give me a spot in Heaven (or Earth - I should technically be immortal since I never touched the Forbidden Fruit). Heaven: um... win for everyone? ok! Charlie herself (for lack of a better term) might be Lilith's "ace in the hole" herself. Also, this makes me wonder if the only way to avoid lying is to avoid singing on the topic XD

*I have nothing against mary sues. I'd been wanting for years now to do something visual describing the internal turmoil that religious trauma caused in my The-Cell-starring-J-lo --like inner worlds. Telling personal stories and Mary Sues are inextricably intertwined. This show has inspired me to either keep pursuing that or just quit. Because picking apart past trauma for analysis can be more trouble than its worth - especially if you are ready to forget. u.u I still get deep chills every time I hear Emily and Charlie's duet in "You Didn't Know", even though I've officially considered myself atheist for like, what, three months?" This shit was an essay. I'm just going to play Warframe instead. Peace.

[zairene]

reconciliation, izuku midoriya x black female reader

synopsis: after breaking up with izuku midoriya, he stands at your doorstep months later seeking the care that you once had given him.

wc: 1.1k

a/n: a rewritten & improved version of a fic i wrote on my old page before i deleted it. i tried revising parts that i couldn’t remember but think of this as the better version of the last one. could be turned into a mini series to rebuild their relationship, if this does well enough that is. + not proofread, mistakes might be here and there

SOMEHOW, SOMETIME AGAIN, izuku finds himself right in front of your apartment complex. the bruises and scars on his skin submerged his body as if he were drowning. and the only thing that could possibly be racing through his mind is you. all the time that you both spent apart only made him realize how dependent he had became on how much you cared about him.

things didn’t work out between you two. izuku had the tendency to put his life in great peril in order to shield his loved ones from the reality of the world surrounding them. however, the idea that his life being taken away from him would cause a greater impact on the people he loved, and that it wouldn’t be seen as a heroic act but more so an unfortunate circumstance. once he came to the realization that being prone to making sacrifices wasn’t healthy, he had to go on the journey regain self control. to assist him in becoming fully aware of his worth as a person.

he seemed to not know that his life matters too. and you breaking up with him made him notice his damaging lifestyle. he had learned that it’s okay to make sacrifices, but also to think about how it would affect those around him. would his life being lost solve all the problems that were present or create more?

this brings him back to the present.

the loud crack of thunder had made him flinch, and gave him the ability to make his way to your front door. he held his head down and his arms swung by his side. he felt embarrassed. he felt stupid. it had been months since you both last talked. why would you open your house to him after everything he’s put you through?

his left hand balled into a fist, ready to knock on your door. as soon as he did, he stood waiting. seconds later, the door opened and there you stood. his eyes landed on your figure. your eyes had bags under them, your hand was fiddling with your bonnet which was slipping slightly. you froze in your spot, taking in the sight. you didn’t expect to see the man you broken up with back on your doorstep at 2 in the mornings.

“oh my god…” the only words you could seem to verbalize out before ushering him into your house. you sat him down on your couch, going to grab bandages and the appropriate medicine to help him heal even after he left your house. you came back to see that he had made himself more comfortable yet still having a troubling look on his face.

you sit down quiet close next to him setting everything in your hand on the table in front of him. you began to take care of his wounds. you scanned his body, searching for wounds you could treat successfully so he could go to a clinic for the worst ones that may require antibiotics for how deep the stab wounds were.

your started to wipe blood off of his hands and fingers and around the cuts of his wounds, wrapping it with bandages. you both hadn’t said a word, he just sat in the still of the place you considered a home.

“i shouldn’t be doing this to you,” izuku said. you look at him and sigh with uncertainty. you didn’t know how to respond to a statement like that. “this isn’t your responsibility. i’m still wondering why you even helped me.” he continued.

“i still feel obligated to help you, midoriya. i can’t turn you away looking like this, no matter what time it is.” his heart ached at you using his last name, the last time you both were involved you were on a first name basis. now it felt like the both of you were back at square one.

“i can’t help but feel guilty.”

“for what? needing help? that’s my job.” to you, he sounded absolutely ridiculous right now.

“no, for taking advantage of the fact i need help to get you to talk to me now.” you were stunned. in a way, he was right. but you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. it return back to his reticent attitude. trying not to make the situation as bad as it already felt. you were finally done with the things you could treat. to the rest he was on his own, he didn’t mind as most of his pain went away. maybe it was the adrenaline. maybe he just didn’t care about it at the moment. he didn’t even know himself.

he muttered a measly thank you, as he walked past you, ready to leave your house assuming that you didn’t want him there. you bit your lip, thinking about speaking. his hands fiddled with your doorknob but then he finally got a grip on it. the sound of your door opening had triggered your body to turn around.

“izuku, wait.” he stopped, and closed your door again, avoiding rain to get inside your house. he looked back at you. you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a hug.

at first, he was stiff. he didn’t hug back, he was more surprised than anything. not at the fact you used his first name again but that you hugged him. all the feelings that he managed to push away came rushing back in that one moment. tears pricked at his waterline and his arms wrapped around yours. he squeezed you slightly.

“i still care about you, m’kay?” you whispered into his ear, his head nodded in response. you pulled back to see that he had a few tears running down his face. he looked away in embarrassment as red hues coated his face. you chuckled slightly, putting both of your hands on his cheeks. you used your thumb to wipe his tears away.

“i’m not mad at you. i never was. i just… get worried about your well-being sometimes.” he nodded.

“i know. me too.” a smile came on his face.

“stay safe. and remember i’m here for you regardless of anything we went through. alright?”

“alright.” you both shared a brief hug again before he left your house. you felt a huge weight had been lifted off of your heart. sure, a long talk between you both was was long overdue. but knowing that you both were on speaking terms again gave you some hope for the future.

TAGLIST FORM

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Jigsaw piece- Criminal minds.

Summary: Your first case with the team has definitely gone well. You have a post case chat with Hotch.

Warnings: Language, fluff.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader.

Word count: 988.

Being the new team member wasn't easy. They didn't necessarily make it difficult it was just odd not having my footing in an environment. I had dressed for the part, slacks and a shirt, which made Garcia joke that I was the female version of Hotch.

I wanted to exude an atmosphere that screamed business, that didn't show I could be walked all over and treated like shit by anyone and so far I'd done a good job. Everyone treated me as an equal and when anyone outside the team tried to talk down to me they all had my back. I wasn't used to being the outsider though, in my last team I was there the longest and now I felt like a newborn donkey on wobbly legs. But that didn't stop me from doing my job. We threw ourselves into our case, I worked hard to prove that I was worth the transfer and was thoroughly exhausted by the end of it. I had managed to get some sort of common ground with the team. From enjoying fluffy animals with Garcia to comparing the best whiskey with Rossi, they were all wonderful and I was happy to say I worked well alongside them.

Reid and I had enslaved our brains over solving riddles sent by the unsub and I'd helped Prentiss and Morgan connect the victims. JJ had enlisted my help in dealing with some press that caused trouble before Hotch and I made the final arrest though it ended with a scuffle. The victim ended up clinging to me for a while but I was more than happy to comfort them, after all they'd been through enough. I catered my work to fit in any scenario they put me in, flexibility was key in this job and I got along with everyone so well. I was like a jigsaw piece, whatever shape the others were, I moulded myself to fit in whatever gap needed filling.

The past few days had been unceasing, the case was relentless and everyone was ready to go home and sleep in their own bed. Everyone apart from Rissi, Hotch and I were sleeping, slouched in positions that would definitely cause aches later on. Emily's head was in JJ's lap, whose fingers weaved through her dark hair as she leaned against the wall of the jet. Morgan has headphones on, snoring softly but not enough to wake everyone. Reid had his open book still clutched in his hand, glasses crooked and mouth open in a deep sleep. Rossi took notes from the case file in his book, pausing every so often before staring at the page in concentration. He nodded in thanks as I set down a fresh cup of coffee and wandered back to my seat.

"Thought you might want a fresh cup. I'm surprised you two aren't asleep yet." I spoke quietly to Hotch, wary of waking the team from their peaceful slumbers. He smiled slightly up at me, placing down his own files before taking the cup from me.

"I don't really sleep much on the jet and Dave has more energy than the rest of us at the best of times. He likes to make notes whilst they're fresh in mind." He paused, sipping his drink. "Why haven't you gotten some rest?"

"I'm not keen on sleeping in the air, turbulence is a nightmare and no matter how many times I fly I can't get used to it. That and my hair is always ridiculous when I wake up." I joked, grinning at my boss whilst I traced the patterns on my cup. He chuckled and nodded in understanding.

"Dave's not keen on flying either, his knuckles go white when turbulence hits. I'm surprised the tables aren't cracked." He joked, watching the older profiler as he worked. "I wouldn't mention it to Reid through, he'll tell you facts that definitely won't help. Reid's hair can be crazy when he wakes up too, JJ offers to braid it all the time but he refuses. You should ask her if she'll do yours sometime." He offered as I contemplated the thought.

"David seems very set in his ways. I imagine it's a good routine to be in after working for the FBI for so long. I might get some tips from him, might make me more organised." I paused to take a mouthful of the hot beverage before speaking once more. "I'm amazed at how well you all work together. You all really respect and care for each other. I'm so glad and honoured to be a part of the team and can't wait to get to know you all better."

"We're glad to have you on board. The team has really taken a shine to you." A smile crept onto my face as I looked around at the sleeping members.

"I've taken a shine to you guys too," I admitted, "you've all been so welcoming and sweet, it's been nice. Sometimes people are funny about new members, can be cold and try to force them out but you guys are so open to new people, it's refreshing." Stifling a yawn, I curled my legs under me, finishing off my drink.

"There's still a few hours before touchdown if you wanted to grab a bit of sleep. I can wake you up when we get closer if you'd like." My heart melted at the offer and I found I couldn't refuse it. After a second of hesitation, I nodded, curling against my seat and letting my eyes flutter shut. Even though I could feel his eyes on me, they gave me a sort of comfort and I relaxed rather quickly, breathing evening out as I began to drift off. Before I could completely fall asleep, I felt something being draped over me. The smell of cologne drifted up as I snuggled down into it, Hotch's blazer providing extra warmth.

[brokenlovesong]

EVERMORE A STRANGER

japanese!paul x darry rating: teen word count: 7k work in progress

Paul didn’t understand why his mother was so insistent on him only speaking English when he was five. It was only when he got older that he understood her reasoning, when the other kids would pull back their eyes at him and bow, calling him mean names. They just wanted to make him feel smaller. He didn't think he'd ever call Tulsa a home, not when he felt like a stranger walking the street of a place he's lived for the last ten years. It's not until he met Darrel Curtis, of all people, that he finally felt like he belongs.

[short excerpt]

“I want nothing to do any of y’all. I hate Tulsa and I hate the people in it.”

“Look, we’re not all like that. Even Tim isn’t normally-…” Paul scoffed. “Okay, he has his moments. But he’s just a kid. An angry, misled kid. He’s only fifteen.” Great . Paul was so glad he knew he got successfully jumped by a couple of rough and tough kids his age and not some big, scary adults who found pleasure in whipping teenagers. That made him feel so much better. “You gonna go to the feds ‘bout this?”

“I may be West Side. But that don’t mean they care for me much, either. He ain’t worth the trouble tattlin’ to the cops may bring. They’d probably try and figure out if I went lookin’ for a beatin’ for attention or somethin’.”

Darrel hummed. “Tim’s better about fair fights when it comes to hood. But sometimes, those kids just got so much anger and all they see is red. I was hopin’ in’ my brothers won’t ever get mixed up with them. But Pony’s started to become friendly with one of ‘em Shepards. I don’t like it all that much.”

Ponyboy was Darrel’s youngest brother. Paul had heard the name mentioned a couple of times. People were always saying he’d be another one of the Greasers to keep an eye on because he’s destined to make it out of Tulsa. Really bright brain and strong in the literature classes. Paul wondered if he ever felt the weight of the pressure that came from being related to Darrel. Did it compare to the expectations placed on himself for his race?

“They saw red ‘cause I’m the enemy-” A sharp pain surged through his body and he winced, caving in on himself. Darrel seemed to get the message and helped him to the ground in a position barely more comfortable than standing. “Not just being a West Side kid. But ‘cause I’m Japanese.”

[full fic on ao3]

[prismaticpichu]

B, C, F!!

You got it!! 💕

~

Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? ~ Yes!!! One of my personal favorite fics, Lightning, has a huge focus on PTSD and the sense of confusion that comes with spontaneous triggers/episodes. For instance, (and without getting into too much detail) I myself have been able to handle being in a room full of drunk people just fine- while other times looking at a wine glass can cause my heart to pick up speed. Sephiroth in that fic is plagued by horrible memories of being electrocuted by Hojo as a child (triggered by a storm outside), yet is left confused and ashamed, claiming that he has been able to handle trekking through thunderstorms in the past without ever breaking a sweat. The point I was trying to get across there is that, sometimes- and as Zack puts it- PTSD episodes can be completely random, like “lightning having the chance to strike a tree.” Sometimes, we’re just hit by it when other times we’re not. And that’s okay <333 It’s absolutely okay.

What character do you identify with most? ~ ON A LIGHTER NOTE LOL I think I see a lot of parallels in myself to Zack!! It’s hard to always stay positive- especially when his world seems to be imploding- but the young First always tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits high!! I imagine he’s someone who genuinely finds catharsis in making others smile, even when he himself is having trouble doing so. He’s the exact kind of person I strive to be: kind, optimistic, and loyal until the very end!! <333

Care to share a favorite hurt/comfort fic? ~ Absolutely!!! How about I share a few?? <333 (and it doesn’t specify that they have to be MINE soooooo~)

• Warning: Flash Photography by @tardistype221b ~ absolutely ADORE this fic for its implementation of very realistic PTSD- with the flashbacks beautifully laced throughout!!- and Zack being there to comfort his best friend <333 ahhhhhh!!!

• A Haven of Hyacinths by @dyradoodles ~ Just PEAK catharsis wherein a Jenova-purified Seph is reunited with Zack in the Lifestream <333

• Footfalls by @altocat ~ another extremely cathartic ride, only it’s post-Nibelheim addition!! <333 Zack is essentially doing what he does best- carrying a delirious Sephiroth across the snowy mountains as they escape ShinRa’s clutches <333 All with the most beautiful writing you can imagine!!

• Poster Boy by copper_nights ~ Protective Angeal being the best friend on the face of Gaia <33333 Gahhhh I love this author sm!!! So many amazing fics in their arsenal!!

• When the Stars Shine Brightest by @lucky-ladybugs-lovelies (I believe this is the right blog??? Plz forgive me person I tag if it’s not!! 😂❤️) ~ anyway lol THIS FIC MADE ME CRY. LIKE… IT LEGITIMATELY DID. NO OTHER FIC HAS MADE ME CRY BEFORE OR SINCE. Fic follows an extremely shattered Sephiroth in the aftermath of Zack’s death- having been killed on a mission. That’s all I can say without spoiling the rest, bc it’s really worth going in blind <333 Do note that 1) this fic is on FF.Net and might need a little more digging to get to and 2) it is a sequel fic- but I promise you its predecessor, Shine Until Tomorrow, is worth the read itself <333 It’s really just an incredible story she tells, and i’ve always been such a HUGE fan of her worldbuilding <333 SOLDIER always feels so alive!!! As do the characters!!

(Side note- if you ever fsr wondered where my love for Zack & Seph came from, it started here 😂 With this wonderful author!!!)