#they enjoy ur soup greatly :))

[idiot-mushroom]

I wish to make your turtles some good hearty soup. lotsa veggies. Dumplings. Meat. tasty broth. I want them to eat and be happy.

And then as a reward for eating healthy i have snack cakes for desert.

they’re eating albóndigas soup <— only nutritious soup i know

[eunoiaflow3r]

Sick And Tired

A/N: I know I changed the third request a little, I’m sorry. I still hope you enjoy. 

Warnings: fluff, mistakes... fem!reader.

Word Count: 1.5k

Requests: 

Spencer Reid request!! Can you do one where reader is at home when he arrives for his latest case and he’s sick or injured and she takes care of him? And he definitely tried to hide it and pretend like nothings wrong but she figures it out

Ooooh so I just read your “slow dance” one and it gave me an idea for a request. What if Spencer’s feeling kinda sick all day and throughout the day, the individual team members bring it up (I especially love the fatherly relationship he has with hotch so :}) anyway, by the time it gets to the end of the night, he’s barely keeping his eyes open and focused but won’t leave and reader comes up to his desk and finally convinced him to go home and takes care of him a little bit Is that too much?

ok. so. i just read THE coolest study on chicken noodle soup that talked about mitigation of neutrophil migration, and thus inflammation meaning !!! it actually DOES help a cold !!! point is, i would love if you could possibly write something abt reid caring for his S/O while they’re sick and being a little uncomfy because he finds it difficult to be intimate and caring without seeming overbearing? sorry if this is too bizarre/ oddly specific bahaha but tysm either way! ur writing is awesome :)   

Summary: y/n helps spencer when he’s sick.

~~~~~~~~~~

The morning ran pretty well for the most part. 

Everyone was just sort of hanging around until JJ shows up so that meant, Morgan was sleeping, Prentiss was talking with Garcia, Rossi was in his office, and you and Reid were where the coffee was like usual.

Spencer had asked you out about a year ago, and ever since then, you’ve been dating. You’re pretty sure that the team doesn’t know, but there’s always that chance that they do. Because of this at work, you and Spencer try to stay strictly professional, but even then it’s very hard.

“Jesus Christ!” Spencer yelled. He had gone from gently blowing and stirring his coffee to loudly sneezing and spilling a portion of his coffee onto his beige sweater.

“Oh my God, are you okay Spencer?” You asked worriedly taking the cup from his hands and trying to help him out of his hot sweater quickly. You both had secretly hoped it hadn’t got on his shirt underneath, but it had, and now he had to take that off too.

You blushed at the sight of him, but quickly wet a towel and gave it to him so that he could wipe the coffee off of his stomach.

“The one day I don’t have extra clothes with me, this happens.” He scolded himself. 

Morgan came into the room shortly after the incident, (he had heard the shouting), and was greatly amused to find a shirtless Spencer and a blushing, worried you.

“What happened here? Am I interrupting something?” He asked smirking.

“Interrupting what?” Spencer questioned, trying to get the spot of coffee off of his pants as well.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, but before you could say anything, Spencer went from coughing hardly to sneezing and neither you or Morgan knew what to do except to say “bless you.”

After he was done you both asked if he was alright but he insisted that he was fine, and it was nothing to worry about. You and Morgan knew that he wasn’t fine, but you let it drop anyway.

_

On the plane, after the team reviewed the case, it was mostly silent except for the occasional cough from Spencer. You passed him a few cough drops and he thanked you silently, but he insisted that he did not need them and he was perfectly fine. 

When you weren’t looking though, he put one into his mouth and soon fell asleep.

As he was sleeping, both you and the team noticed he was shifting uncomfortably, half because of the ACDC shirt Morgan let him borrow, and half because as you had assumed, he was sick. You weren’t sure why he wouldn’t admit it to himself but you were going to try to help him any way you could.

“What’s up with Reid?” Prentiss asked noticing how Spencer would wake up with a sneeze every so often.

“He’s sick, I’m pretty sure.” You answer. “Probably a cold. He would know better than I would but he says he’s fine.”

_

Once you landed, Hotch told you and Spencer to go to the station and try to set up a geographic profile from there. Along with telling you he’d call with updates, he also told you to look after Reid and make sure that he was going to be okay. The way he said it made it seem like he knew more about the both of you than the two of you let on but at this point, you were glad you were paired with Reid so that you could try to help him.

A few hours had gone by, and Hotch called a few times helping you and Spencer build and better profile, but it seemed as though Spencer was only getting worse. His eyes had reddened, and his throat was sore meaning that the talking between the two of you was kept to a minimum. One of the nearby cops noticed he was somewhat losing his voice, and they had offered him some tea, but Spencer kindly refused.

You thanked the officer and took the tea anyway. You set it next to him, and you weren’t looking, the whole cup ended up empty. 

You smiled.

The team came back to give a profile to the public, and because Reid couldn’t do it because of his voice, you gave the geographic one.

Later on the plane home, the whole team had noticed Spencer’s behavior. His hair was a mess he didn’t bother fixing, he was sweating, his cheeks were flushed, and he just looked miserable. JJ gave him some Tylenol to take, and Rossi offered him some water, but he refused. 

Eventually, he gave in and took the medicine, but not without making sure that no one was paying attention to him and what he was doing.

Back at the office, everyone said their goodbyes, but Spencer had insisted to stay behind and work on the papers. You didn’t want to argue with him, so instead, you walked over to your desk and finished up files of your own that you could. A few minutes later, you decided to look over at Spencer’s desk, and just like you had suspected he had fallen straight asleep.

“L/N.” A deep voice had called from above. 

“Oh hey, Hotch.”

“Can I see you for a second?”

Once you were in Hotch’s office, you sat down and you noticed that he looked just as tired as Spencer was. His tie was undone, his hair a mess, and his desk was even messier.

“Y/N, I know about you and Spencer, and before you say anything I need you to know that it’s alright as long as it doesn’t interfere with the both of you doing your job.” He was serious until now. “I’m happy for you guys, you should see the way he looks at you.” You blushed at that. “Please take care of him tonight. He needs it. I’m not sure why he’s refusing to admit it, but please take care of him in any way you can. Take tomorrow off.”

You weren’t sure what to say other than the routine, “yes sir,” so along with that, you said “thank you,” and shuffled your way out of his office.

Spencer was still sleeping by the time you got back down so you took the liberty to pack up for him and you as well. When you were done, you went over to try to gently shake Spencer awake.

“Spencer, let me take you home.”

He woke up groggily and confused and said, “No. No, I’m okay I still gotta uhm, I gotta finish this.”

“You’re tired and hungry. Let’s get you to your apartment.”

Eventually, you convinced him, and you drove him to his ultimately very neat apartment other than a  few stray books on the table and the couch.

You tell him to go change so that you can make some food for him.

“Oh really? What are you making?”

“Chicken noodle soup.” You smile. “Obviously. You have some kind of cold. I guess soup helps.”

“Actually, it really does!” he smiles excitedly. “Did you know that chicken noodle soup helps clear nasal congestion as well as the thin mucus and it also has an anti-inflammatory effect than can help ease symptoms like congestion, anosmia, erythema, and irritation?” He pauses to sneeze.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you. Anyway, another effect of chicken noodle soup is also mitigating inflammation, so that’s pretty cool too.”

“That is very cool Spencer.” He nods in agreement before going into his bedroom to change.

By the time he was done showering and changing, the soup was ready. You had a bowl placed for each of you on the table, and as soon as he sat down to eat, you did too.

It was silent, and he wasn’t eating yet.

He looked nervous, and you grew worried.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded not looking at you. It looked like he was trying to tell you something but he couldn’t find the right words. He was fidgeting, and his leg was moving, and one of his hands raked through his hair the way it does when he’s really thinking about something.

“Spence?”

Instead of answering he pushed a key to you still without looking at you, and shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth but then regretted that because it was still a tad too hot.

After making sure he was okay, you looked down and picked up the key.

“Is this?” You question searching for Spencer’s eyes.

He nodded, smiling at you.

“And you want me to use it?” You were in disbelief.

“I don’t want you to just use it Y/N, I want you to move in with me.”

“Move in with you?”

“Please.”

You nodded and kissed his cheek. “Of course I will.”

While you were in the bathroom to tell JJ the good news, (of course she knew about you and Spencer), Spencer called Morgan (he knew too) to tell him that you had agreed to move in with him. Spencer was beyond ecstatic he’d finally built up the courage to ask you. He was red all over and smiling to himself. Despite being sick, this was probably one of the most happiest moments of his life.

~~~~~~~~~~

feedback always appreciated!!

~~~~~~~~~~

[fuwafuwamedb]

The King’s Dumu Lugal (Hakuno, Caster Gilgamesh, Gudako)

A king was only as good as his kingdom and the management of his world therein.

A great king could understand the pieces on the board before him. He could understand how people were and what motivated them. He could understand what he needed to do and how he needed to proceed to build up the walls around himself. He knew when to be lenient. He knew when to push someone forward.

Kings could push through pet peeves. He could find the way to work around any flaws he possessed.

“My king.”

Caster paused from the screens before him, glancing back at the woman nearby.

Ah, his saving grace.

She had singlehandedly applied a Sumerian dictionary to the computer system, making all of this possible. She had spent hours upon hours on this system, building it up bit by bit until he had found that he could enjoy the full benefits of the Chaldean computers through a Sumerian filter. In return, Gudako and the others could see the work he did and make use of his decisions.

His chestnut-haired savior. His whiskey eyed genius.

Even more astounding to him was the fact that she had asked for nothing in return.

He had gone to her chambers, knocking upon her door and finding it only opening enough to let him see the large sitting room a bit and the hallways that went further back from this door. She had looked up at him and told him that servants were not permitted in her space when he asked to enter.

When he offered to return her great deeds, she’d told him she merely wanted to have the opportunity to help him.

“Then I shall have you remain at my side.”

She remained…

“I brought dinner for you,” she told him, holding up the soup and the vegetables that rested upon the tray she held.

“Are you going to keep me company this evening?”

He’d noticed that she would gaze upon him at times. He was no fool. Those brown eyes would linger on him for several moments when he was working. She would fidget with her hands at other times. Sometimes, he would even see her bite her lip or have her gaze turn so somber.

What is it that you think about when you look at me?

He desired greatly the chance to ask such a question, but she eluded him. They may have been alone, but the work he did with fine tuning Chaldea and improving the technologies with the aid of Da Vinci took precedence over his opportunities to speak to Hakuno.

That and-

“I have things to attend to.”

She often had things to attend to, he had noted. While she would linger near him, remain at his side and coax him into a few minutes of sleep to keep death from his door; she would always have to leave him. It was troublesome to hear time and time again.

There she turned though, after setting down his tray. The skirts of her dress were sashaying around her hips, her hair swaying here and there as she went.

It reminded him of his dream the other night.

Caster closed his eyes, turning his attention back to his food after she left him.

The help was much appreciated.

He would denounce her for her efforts to assist him. He wouldn’t criticize her efforts to remain both helpful and distance.

It was different from Siduri though.

Siduri had a natural distance between them. She had made her intent clear and she held no airs about her that said that she wished to close the distance between them.

Hakuno…

Hakuno had all those airs.

She had those thick lashes that she could look over at him from underneath. She had those sweet lips that moved in a way that beckoned his eyes. She had that collarbone, bereft of all markings, begging for his lips to cover in bitemarks and bruises.

When she would reach around him, all he could see were dainty hands that would look remarkably fragile to his eyes.

His hands in return would feel inclined to reach forward to grab her. His mind will fill with the images of stripping the dresses from her body. He longed to press her to his desk and undo the zipper of her dress with his hands of his mouth. He longed to kiss every inch that that dress revealed to his eyes.

But he was a king and a man of incredible restraint. He held himself back… despite the glimmer in her eyes that said he could go ahead. He stopped himself despite the way her body seemed to lean closer and closer to him.

He couldn’t eat tonight.

Why is her area of the facility off limits?

Why did she know Sumerian?

Why did he find himself thinking about her so often?

Gudako had given him no help, but her gaze put him into a mental spin as well. At his few questions he’d thought to ask, the woman had hesitated. She’d looked to Mash and quickly patched together tangent after tangent.

He moved from his desk, thinking about this more.

It was high time for some answers. He wanted to know what it was that made Hakuno so mysterious. He wanted to know the truth.

No more somber looks.

No more subject changes.

“I’ll be with Ur if you need me,” the woman could be heard saying to Gudako now.

Gilgamesh found himself pausing, pressing against the wall at the corner of the hallway adjoining the one the two women were in.

“I’ll pick up the tray in a bit,” Gudako promised.

He waited, watching Hakuno walk passed him, heading for her private part of the facility. He looked back, seeing Gudako looking towards the outdoors.

Ur?

Caster moved up behind his master, leaning in close as the woman enjoyed her pretty outdoor view.

“Who is Ur?”

The redhead paused, shivering a second before she spun around.

“Caster,” the woman dared to exclaim.

No, that wasn’t what he had asked. He moved to his full height, looking down his nose at her.

“Ur?”

Gudako hesitated.

“Who is Ur, Gudako?” he asked once more, softly.

She was incredibly lucky.

Despite his displeasure at repeating himself, he had now asked thrice about who this Ur was. She needed to stop wasting his time and begin to tell him what was going on.

“Ur is… well… He’s someone precious to Hakuno,” Gudako answered, albeit reluctantly. “…Has she still not told you about him?”

“Why would Hakuno need to tell me about him?”

“Because he’s your… Never mind.”

No, that was not an acceptable answer. He went to push the subject, but Mash called for her, joined by Ozymandias and Francis Drake.

Riders.

He pulled back, allowing the woman to escape him.

Hakuno would be letting Gudako come get the tray she had been carrying.

He could go himself to get it.

There were no other thoughts on his mind other than to invade her space. He could seek reconciliation after he had transgressed.

The door was unlocked for once.

Not that I come here often.

He slipped the door open, closing it quietly behind himself.

The room was more opulent than he had first thought. The rich golden and crimson banners showing lions and riches hung high on the walls. The furs and blankets adorning the couches and on the floor with wood blocks and hand sewn dolls were rather interesting.

Why would she have such childish toys here?

He settled onto the blanket, looking at the dolls.

They showed improving sewing technique, the careful stitching and repairing efforts showing on a few of the dolls.

What was this?

“Aaaabum.”

Gilgamesh paused at the sound of the voice nearby. He looked up, turning his gaze away from the toys to look at the small figure crawling to sit near him.

The red robes around his shoulders were adorned with golden thread and black accent. The golden hair gleamed proudly from the top of his head.

Those red eyes looked up at him excitedly, his ‘oof’ of a sound accompanied by his waving his hands for him as he sat close to him.

“Ah-bum!”

Caster could feel the reels and gears of his mind coming to a halt. He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest as he looked down at the young boy.

“Abum!”

More hand waving, the boy was intent on this.

Caster glanced at the hallway a moment before he moved a bit closer.

He leaned in close, brushing a hand through that head of blond hair and tilting that head up to look at him more.

The boy was small, perhaps three or four?

No, he was too small.

Maybe younger?

“Ur!” Hakuno’s voice was calling loudly for him. “Ur! It’s almost time for your bath! Come here!”

The toddler didn’t pay any heed to that, instead climbing onto his lap and sighing happily.

This was her secret? This was why no one is permitted in her chambers and why she vanishes so often?

It would make remarkable sense why she would leave him so often now. A youth needed time with their parents. They would need to have time to become accustomed to talking and walking. They needed guidance and entertainment.

As he looked down at the boy again, he could see him grab one of the dolls and begin chewing on its leg. Those red eyes looked up at him, glimmering as though looking up at the sun itself.

Who is his father?

Who… what a ludicrous joke to ask.

The room was adorned in Sumerian culture. His people’s teachings were all over this room from the tablets to the treated furs and blankets. The boy himself was adorned in Sumerian clothing. He bore a name that was like that of his time and people.

A poor city name choice, sure, but it still remained that he had a name that one of his people would bear if he had been born in their time.

What’s more, he bore a hair color of gold that no other could manage. He bore red eyes that looked like that of a snake, or the more divine of people in the universe. His mana was young and weak, but only because he had not begun using his magic quite yet. He possessed mana of the old world, not of this time and age’s mages.

And he called me Abum.

Caster leaned in close, pulling a spare fabric from his gates.

“Hello, my dumu lugal.”

His child prince, he had called him. Was that not what he was?

“Ur!”

Hakuno was still calling for him as Ur pressed his face against him and closed his eyes happily. There was a bit of food still on his face. Caster wiped at it lightly as he leaned against the couch nearby and watched the boy settling in to rest.

“Ur! Where are you? Ur!”

Running could be heard. He could hear the doors being pushed open nearby, but he didn’t dare move with his son resting on his lap.

His hand brushed through that mess of blond hair. His head leaned back against the couch a bit as he looked down at the child.

“Ur! Ur, this isn’t fair to ummum, where-“

Hakuno paused, coming into view.

Her robe was wrapped around herself haphazardly. Her hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders. At the sight of him, she froze, eyes widening.

“I came to speak with you, but it seems my son felt more suited to greet me,” Caster murmured to her gently. “Would you care to have a seat? There’s much for us to discuss with one another.”

For example, how he’d manage to bear a son with her.

[neuroqueerwhore]

My weird current relationship with labels

Gender - I am just soup. I am everything and nothing. I do not have a gender, I am gender. But also gender is fake and yucky. But also the salty mist that falls over your body when waves crash against algae covered rocks? That's gender. So is hyperpop. But it doesnt exist. It's not there. No label is accurate. Because it isnt there. It's an idea, but in practice? Who knows. Gender is a hypothesis. Nonbinary is vague so good enough. I would greatly enjoy fresh waffles at this given time.

Neurodivergency - so like i have adhd, but probably not in the way that u think of adhd. Like ofc I have the executive dysfunction and the creativity and the focus issues and the procrastination and the impulsiveness/spontaneity yk all that but my adhd also effects every single aspect of who i am and what my life is like (that is not a bad thing, adhd is not bad there are convinient and pleasant and magical parts and there are inconvinient and unpleasant and traumatizing parts in this world) and i would be a completely different person if it werent for the adhd i am a VERY eccentric and eclectic person i also think its why i hallucinated as a little kid? Uhhh idk but like if i tell someone i have adhd they are not gonna expect what is coming like wtf am i supposed to say bc nothing else actually explains any of this? I am just hhhhhsoup

Sexual and romantic shit - so u see, ✨eclectic hyperfeminine ppl✨ and like i wanna be more than friends with u but i dont want romance but i want romantic things just not the romance itself only friendship like i wanna feed u strawberries and fuck you under a moonlit sky and cook a beautiful seafood dish for u and go hiking in an old forest together and find an abandoned cabin and live our little cottagecore fantasy and run away to the circus with u and we have a partnered aerial act and to lay in ur lap and listen to u play ukelele in a meadow by the train station as it begins to drizzle and for u to hold a knife to my throat and threaten to cut me open if i dont behave but like yk platonically

Pronouns - fuck