#what problem I don't know what you're talking about

[sanguineterrain]

hi sanne!! i feel like u make suchhh good comedy/fluff fics when it comes to jason, like u make him more of a human than just some vigilante killing machine. especially in in the buff

would u ever write something liikke that one tt trend where you’re mean to your brothers gf to see his reaction? but with stephanie brown, jason, and reader?????? the thought makes me laugh so hard but i cannot write for shit

Thanks for the prompt! Hope this is okay :)

jason todd x fem!reader. estab relationship, tiktok silly shenanigans, batfam interactions, this is technically 50% chatfic.

****

"This is dumb," Jason says, glaring at the camera that hasn't begun recording.

"Don't be such a wet blanket," Steph says airily, fussing with the filters. "Even Damian lets me post stuff. He did a speedpaint last week."

"Damian isn't legally dead."

She shrugs. "B got that worked out."

"Hmph."

You lean your head on Jason's shoulder. He instantly relaxes, rubbing your opposite arm. Steph smiles at you in the camera. You smile back.

"And your girlfriend is on board," she adds, sitting back on the couch. "She thinks it'll be fun."

"I do think it'll be fun," you say, looking at Jason. His expression mellows as he looks at you, and he pecks your lips.

"Sure," he says to you. "Could be fun."

"Whipped," Steph mumbles. "Okay! Let's get started. So Jason, I'm gonna ask you which of us is more xyz, better at a skill, et cetera, and you have to answer honestly. Okay?"

"Yeah, I got it."

Steph nods and starts the video, all business.

You hide a smile, endeared by the fact that Jason's let himself get gently bullied into doing things like making Tiktoks for Steph's three hundred thousand followers. Steph had insisted he wouldn't have agreed without your urging, but you get the feeling that just like with almost everyone else in his family, Jason's not as hard-hearted as he appears.

You're not nervous about the video, exactly. You know Steph is just pretending. But you are a bit nervous that Jason might not flock immediately to your side. After all, he's known Steph longer than he's known you. And she's an official member of Bruce Wayne's merry band of Robins. You're just some woman who accidentally bumped your cart with Jason's at Shoprite and wound up dating him.

"Okay, um..." Steph's voice pulls you back to the prank. "Which of us has better style?"

Jason says your name. "But I think you dress nicely too, Steph."

Steph, to her credit, is a wonderful actor. She makes a face at Jason, then looks at the camera. "Really? She wears the same thing every day. I feel like I never see her without jeans."

You school your face, acting unaware. Jason, however, whips his head to look at Steph.

"What?" he asks, squinting at her. "What're you talking about? She doesn't wear the same thing every day. And you're one to talk, always wearing purple."

"I like her purple outfits," you offer.

"I do it on purpose. Because it's my thing," Steph says blithely. "Not because I have nothing else to wear. Okay, next question!"

You can see Jason's unhappy expression in the camera and are immediately pleased. Steph had bet you that he'd last three questions before stopping the video. You'd guessed four.

"Hmm." She rests a finger on her lips, thinking. "Oh, okay. Who's a better cook?"

Jason snorts. "Obviously her. I wouldn't let you near the stove for anything."

"Jason, be so for real!" Steph says. "It's not like she's any better. Remember when she made those peanut butter cookies for Dick's birthday?" She looks at the camera. "That's his name, guys." She turns back to Jason. "Those cookies were awful! It was like eating peanut butter gravel."

"They were a little dry," you say, nodding gravely.

"No, wh—Stephanie, what the hell is your problem?" Jason snaps, roughly turning on the couch and resting a hand on your waist, simultaneously comforting you and grounding himself. "Why are you being so goddamn mean? Those cookies were great. And I thought you two were friends. This ain't how a friend talks about a friend."

Steph shrugs, cool as a cucumber. "I'm just being honest. That's what this game is. You're supposed to be—"

"You're not being honest, you're being nasty."

"I'm being honest!"

Jason shakes his head in disgust. You allow yourself a small grin while he's looking away. Steph covers her mouth to hide a laugh. Jason leans over to turn off the video.

"No, I'm done. We both are. C'mon, baby, let's go."

He pats your hip and stands, waiting for you to get up. You shoot an urgent look at Steph. She nods and grabs her phone, jogging to stop in front of Jason.

"Wait, hang on! It was a prank. The video wasn't about comparing us, it was me pretending to be rude to her. It's a whole trend."

Jason folds his arms. "Yeah, if you think I'm buyin' that bullshit—"

"It's true," you say. "Honestly, Jay, Steph and I were pranking you. It's a trend, like she said."

"What kinda fucked up trends are they doing on there?" Jason asks, mildly horrified. "That's awful. Steph was so mean."

"It was about to get really good, but you stopped the video," she says, pouting.

Jason glares at her.

"Um, not that that matters! And I meant none of it." She looks at you. "You know that, right?"

"I know, Steph," you say warmly. "It was just a prank."

"Well, don't do that with us again," Jason says. "I was about to cuss you out."

"Implying that you weren't already cursing me out?"

"No," he says. "I really wasn't. Apologize to my girlfriend."

She sighs. "Okay, okay. I'm very sorry. I love you. I hope Jason puts a ring on you soon. Unless you find someone better, in which case—"

"Steph."

She rolls her eyes. "Us ladies have to stick together. Do you think I wouldn't advise Tim's girlfriend the same thing? Of course I would, because I'm a feminist."

You grin. "It's okay, Steph. And same."

"Happy?" she asks Jason.

Jason kisses you and pulls you into his side. "With her? Always."

****

it went viral!!! is Steph's text two days later. She's sent the video to the entire group chat, which includes the Bats, plus you, and minus Bruce because he's a loser, according to everyone in the chat.

Jayjay 🥰: If an article comes out about my resemblance to a dead kid, count your days

Steph 💜: i would maim u first :) everyone watch my vid pls

I'll watch it right now, you reply.

You tap the link. It's weird to see your face on a video that has almost one million likes. You open the comments as it plays in the background.

paellaprincess_89: "what the hell is ur problem??" dear lorddd when i get to heavennn 🧎‍♀️

oliverqueensleftnut: oh uh he seems kinda possessive... kinda problematic. where did you find this guy? are there other men like him? what are their addresses? are they single?

pam_24566: the way he was holding her waist and looking at her he is in loveeee

killthejoker23: his gf is so cute 😭 steph apologize to her rn

stephaniebrownswife: i like ur purple fits too 💜💍

wonderwomanlovebot: yeahh that's not her bf anymore, that's our bf

The group chat dings. Dick's replied.

[2:26pm]

Dick 🐦: 😂😂😂 jasons veins were popping out of his head. steph you really did a number on him 🤣🤣🤣

Steph 💜: thank u! i try. also what did we say about using the laughing crying emoji? OLDASS

Dick 🐦 has replied to your message

-> btw we loved the cookies and youre very stylish 😎👌😋👗

Cass 🦇: yes! 🍪

[2:27pm]

Dick 🐦 has replied to Steph 💜's message

-> bite me! 🤣🤣🤣

Jayjay 🥰: Why the fuck are people asking if I'm single? Didn't they watch the video?

[2:28pm]

Steph 💜: an unfortunate side effect of posting this is facing the reality that ppl think ur hot. we live in dark times

Tim 🦆: ew

Damian Wayne: I'll say.

Jayjay 🥰 has replied to Steph 💜's message

-> I have a girlfriend. You don't. Bite me. 👻

Jayjay 🥰: And fuck🖕 you guys

Jayjay 🥰: Love you baby

You: ily too <3

[2:29pm]

Steph 💜: gross. stop.

Dick 🐦: we should do this w me and kori. but youd insult me instead of her bc i know the trend

Steph 💜: r u kidding me 😃 i actually value my life. kori would blast me to space if i hated on u

Dick 🐦: yeah 🤣🤣 love her

Tim 🦆: what's with all these amazing women with mid men? it's an epidemic

Steph 💜: LMFAO you are SOOOO not one to talk tim

Jayjay 🥰: wasted

Duke ⭐️: real

Cass 🦇: 🫵😂

Dick 🐦: hey cass used the emoji! make fun of her!

Steph 💜: Cass can do anything she wants. Queen

Cass 🦇: thank you. 🥰

Tim 🦆: wait a damn minute. i'm not mid

Several people are typing...

The chat continues to blow up with Tim trying to defend himself and Steph mercilessly not letting him. You go to the comments again, giddy at the mix of people supporting you, people thinking you and Jason are a great couple, and people thirsting over Jason and Steph.

One comment has over twenty thousand likes: I would let him choke me out with those biceps.

Your reply comes naturally: me too!

A text pops up a minute later.

Steph 💜: STOP ENCOURAGING THEM.

[theyluvivi]

"STAY THE F*CK AWAY FROM ME"... CLIENT!CHRIS.

You're drunk. You'll admit that, but it's the good type of a drunk—Not the wallowing in pity type of drunk.

You're at a party with all your girlfriends and you look good, like really good. And you feel good. You're finally standing on business.

Actually. You blocked Matt and Chris on everything, and even though you wanna unblock Chris, just a teensy a bit, you refuse to let yourself be used like that ever again.

It's the reason you don't date in the first place.

Men fucking suck.

The one that his arm wrapped around you right now is okay, though. His name is.... Luca? No, not Luca... maybe Luke? Lucas? Something with an L. You and him went shot for shot for earlier, which probably wasn't a good idea, but he's fun, you're having fun.

He's nice, like super nice. You could see yourself self liking him, you see him waking up in your bed and not immediately trying to leave. Plus, you can tell that's he's actually into you and not just talking to you in hopes in getting into your pants.

Plus, plus he has friends for your friends. That's even better.

He's the complete opposite of Chris. Blonde, tall, actually interested in you... dating him wouldn't be bad.

You giggle at the story he's telling you, biting your lip when you notice how red he's turned just from you smiling at him. "You really broke your arm like that?" He playfully rolls his eyes, "You try getting getting a ball out of a tree that high!"

You laugh so hard you shed a few tears. You even throw your head back. "It's not funny!"

When you finally stop laughing, you just grin at him, "It's a little funny," You take a gulp of your white claw, frowning when you realize that you finished it. "M' going to get another one of these? Do you want a drink?"

"I'm good." You nod, giggling again when you hear the squeak he lets out before you get up from the couch you guys are sitting on and wander off to the kitchen. You're chilling, searching around the kitchen for a cooler or at least a cup to pour some vodka in.

And you can feel the shift in the air, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. You turn slightly, and you don't need to see his face to know he's here. You're able to recognize him just by his beanie.

He's spots you almost immediately. You're fucked.

You swallow hard. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath because you know that he's walking to you and that even if you were to sprint, you wouldn't be able to get back to your friends.

You don't have another moment to prepare, as soon as you open your eyes he's there, in front of you. "What?"

He scoffs. The fucking audacity— "Are you fuckin' serious?" You just cock a brow, tilting your head at him with the most unamused look on your face. "Blocking me on everythin', posting on your story grinding on some random dude—"

Oh, that's how he found you. You tune the rest out because you don't care how he saw, but—Him acting like he doesn't do the same thing?

"Are you fuckin' serious?" You accuse, "You do the same shit to me but when I do it back I'm the bad guy?" He crosses his arms, brows lowering. "You knew exactly how I was when you let me fuck you—"

"So you get to go out and fuck every girl on campus but when I go to a party and dance with a guy, its a fuckin' problem?" His jaw clenches, eyes searching yours as he slickly tries to look away.

"Answer me, Chris." You know you're about to cry, that feeling in chest getting stronger by the second. "Chris, I swear—" You say, voice still as strong as ever. "You didn' even—" He murmurs, "Shut the fuck up." He flinches, his eyes widening as you raise yell at him.

You can feel everyone at the party staring, even your friends. But, you don't care. You need to get this out.

"We're not together—we were never together, but you think you get to control me? Use me for a quick fuck and some weed? You're crazy." Hot tears run down your face, ruining your makeup.

"You're a terrible person, Chris— the shittiest, most terrible person I've ever met— And I hope everyone that's in your life realizes that and leaves you—" You shove him, voice starting to get wobbly, "Y-you treat girls like they're toys— you treated me like I was nothing—" You take a deep breath, refusing to let the sob in your throat come out.

"I never wanna see you again." You finally get out, words that have been on your mind since this entire argument started. You wipe your face, attempting to walk off, "Dea—" He grabs your wrist, "I'm serious." You yank yourself out of his grip.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @domizmez @sosasturns @drewswife @strnilolover @t0riiiis @sturniolosrtewsexy @courta13 @badgallrora @mattslilies @sturns-mermaid @bluetalia @pair-of-pantaloons @y2kstarr @mattswifeyy @sweeethrt @bee-43 @ambi-squirrelly @wastelandzella @applecidersturniolo @riasturns

a/n: ummmm who missed their most toxic situation ship!

[artyphex]

Listen

I do understand the fear of pregnancy and getting pregnant from the prospective of those who do not want kids and are in relationships/having sex with people who could impregnate them in this political climate. I understand the terror of losing your body autonomy and having options that should be your right ripped away from you by people who have nothing to do with you, your life, and your choices. I do not want anyone to ever think I'm telling them they're wrong for feeling that. That is the most rational thing in the world

What I mean when I say "Fear-mongering about pregnancy and birth is wrong" is the people who paint it exclusively as something disgusting. Grotesque. "Body horror." And not a natural process that yes, has risks, some of those risks being very serious, but there are FACTORS that add in to them. And the only way people can find out about those factors is through neutral education that NEEDS to become more wildly available

Because the fact is people, myself included, want to have kids and want to experience being pregnant. If you can't comprehend that, that is a you problem. It is not your civic duty to scare them into no longer wanting it because it is empowering TO YOU.

When I say I want kids and want to experience being pregnant one day and people say "Clearly you've never been pregnant" "Look up the girl with the list" "Did you know your teeth will fall out" "Read regretful parent subreddits first" congrats. You are absolutely no better than the people telling you "You'll want kids when you're older"

My life is not your business. You do not have the right to take one of my biggest dreams from me because it disgusts you. You still do not control my body

When all you do is talk about the horrific things that can go wrong during a birth rather than talk about the realities of it, what's normal and what isn't, etc. That's how you get people who GENUINELY BELIEVE a c-section is safer than vaginal birth in ALL SITUATIONS. When in realities a c-section is usually MUCH more dangerous because it is MAJOR SURGERY that comes with the risks of all other MAJOR SURGERIES. Obviously, in certain situations it is safer, but in others its not. This is what I mean by "neutral education of the risks." People should KNOW EXACTLY what they are putting their bodies through, and you sitting there talking about all the blood and guts isn't the education you think it is.

Treating pregnancy and birth and something disgusting is just misogyny. Treating people, especially women, who want kids as stupid or ignorant is just misogyny. Wrapping your misogyny in leftist "child free by choice" ideology does not make it less misogynistic. Encouraging people to live in constant fear of their own bodies is not the feminist move some of you genuinely seem to believe it is.

And when you've done all this to a point there is a culture where it is totally acceptable to say "Pregnancy is as scary as rabies and if you disagree you don't respect me" is actually insane

[iidesxreii]

Anatomy - S. Reid

∘₊☽ Song: https://music.apple.com/us/album/anatomy-single/1695033802 ☽₊∘

╔ Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

☆ Word Count: 5.3k

☆ Category: Angst/Fluff (Opposites attract, what can I say?)

☆ Summary: You never talk about your father with anyone. And when you finally do allow yourself to think of all the reasons you come to a certain realization. One that took you years to admit. //My take on the song Anatomy by Kenzie.//

☆ Content: HURT/COMFORT, angst, flashbacks, dad problems GALORE

╚ A/N: Omg this is my first fic and it's been sitting in my drafts for like months. I was skeptical about posting this but I guess no better time than now you know? I have a couple more in the drafts and if this does any type of good, I'll release more! Bold are lyrics, italics are memories <3

Also!! This is LONG. I didn't realize how long until I scrolled through and my GOSH. Please grab snacks and tissues because this shit gets deep. PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU HATE IT I WONT BE MAD I SWEAR.

If you squint I slipped in some very slight father figure Hotch bc that’s my crack

═══════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ═══════

You called me today, on a random Tuesday

Don't ask me why I still have your number saved

You roll your eyes and double click your lock button to send the phone call to voicemail. You try to continue talking with the team, but within seconds your phone is ringing again. You sigh and pull your phone out fully but before you could send them to voicemail again, Hotch’s voice broke through to you. 

“Agent (Y/L/N). I don’t know who’s calling you, but please go answer. This is the 3rd time.” Hotch’s usual monotonous voice cuts through the conversation everyone else was having, the minute he does it goes quiet in the conference room. You breathe in deeply before licking your lips looking for a reply.

“Actually it’s the 18th time since you clocked in this morning. 3rd since we’ve landed.” Your all knowing, fast talking and ever so loving boyfriend chirps from the corkboard. Your eyes dart to him and you see that he hasn’t even turned an inch to look at you. Still focusing on the ins and outs of the case your team was supposed to be working on. You sigh before clearing your throat.

“Since you know SO much Reid, who is it?” You ask as you stand from your seat at the table. Morgan has a smile on his face as he watches you two fight like a married couple. Your hands land on your hips and Reid finally turns around. He has a file in his hands and the entire time he speaks he’s reading into it.

“Your father. I saw his name come up 4 times before we went to the round table room for debriefing.” He places the white board marker down before flipping a page in the file and continuing to read. You squint at him and make a face. Your boyfriend had terrible social cues, especially while on the job. He wasn’t the easiest to speak to sometimes, which is why you never let it bother you. Until now. Talking about your father brought the worst out in you. “If you’re going to ignore someone’s calls you could try blocking them or turning-” 

“Reid.” Hotch’s stern voice comes barreling through his train of thought and he finally looks up. When he sees your face his softens immediately. He didn’t know why you never spoke about your dad or why you never answered his calls. He also didn’t know why you never went home during your vacations or never spoke about your home life. But seeing you look so defeated after his last few words to you, he’s wanted to know more than ever. You roll your eyes and pull your phone out. You click your fathers name and the phone immediately redials and sends out the call. You show your colleagues and some of them jokingly laugh as you head out of the door. The phone rings 4 times before it picks up. And then you hear your father.

Hello, stranger, it's been forever

You're acting normal, but nothing's normal about

“Hey stranger! Seems like I can never get you on the phone nowadays!” Your dad’s voice cuts through the quiet silence after a beat of sitting on the phone. You clear your throat as you entire an office that was empty. It wasn't too far from your team so you could still keep an eye on them and gauge what they were talking about.

“Hi dad.” you mumbled into the phone. Your tone of voice did nothing to throw your father off his reason for calling you. You can hear the smile on his face when he continues talking.

“Are you busy? Do you have some time for catching up?” He asks so innocently but you fear that. Your dad never calls for just anything, there’s always something behind the call. Something you chose to stay away from.

“Ah…no.” You think about it for a second before answering. You should have said you were busy, or you shouldn't have called back and instead blocked his number but the thing about your father was you loved him. You always had, always will. He was your weak spot. No matter how many times he had proven he didn’t deserve second, third or fourth chances you gave him them all.

“My little FBI agent is finally quiet. You know you were never really a quiet kid-” he continued talking and you continued listening. Another notion towards you giving your father time that he doesnt deserve. You watch as your team continues shuffling around in the room, talking and marking up a board you can only see half of. 5 minutes later you see the door to their room open and you turn away. Within seconds you find your door opening and Morgan peeking his head in.

“Profile is ready. Good to go?” he asks. You turn to him and give him a thumbs up before returning to your call. The door closes and you take a peek at it before clearing your throat.

“Hey dad, I’ve got to go but…I’ve got some vacation time saved up. How about I come visit and we can go out for dinner.” you turn to look and find your team making their way out of the room and towards the open vast police station. A sure sign that they were about to give the profile without you.

“That’s a wonderful idea, munchkin. Let me know when. Stay safe.” you nod into the phone and immediately hang up. There was nothing more to say after that. You slide your phone on mute before sticking it in your pocket and opening the office door. Before you can head towards the team you feel a hand on your arm. You turn to find Spencer standing, waiting on you.

“Angel-” He doesn’t get any further before you smile and pull your arm gently from him. You didn’t want to talk, no matter how sad you looked or felt. Talking about your dad was never a good thing.

“Not right now, Spence. Profile time.” you deflect like you always have. Never talking about your father was normal to you. Nothing good had or could ever come from talking about your father.

Trust issues and soaking tissues

Your relationship with your father had turned sour about a year after him and your mom divorced. He stopped visiting, stopped calling, stopped sending money for you and your sister. Like he had just given up. And then one day he started calling back and his reasoning was because work had exhausted him and strained him beyond what he was used to but he was back and wasgoing to be there for you guys. If only 7 year old you had known the lie.

“I’m going to come and pick you guys up and we’ll hangout for the weekend. I told your mom I’d be there at 5. I love you guys, Munchkin.” his voice came through the phone one wednesday. Your sister, Ameilia, squealed and jumped on her bed before flopping down and grabbing her pillow to scream into.

“We love you too dad! We can’t wait!” You quickly hung up the phone and turned to your older sister who stopped in her tracks and immediately started digging through your shared closet for clothes to wear. You followed suit with the brightest smile on your face. Unknowingly to you and Ameilia, your mother was standing at your door with a worried look on her face.

Lyin' to my sister and sayin' I don't miss you

The false hope calls kept coming well into your teen years. The constant ‘I’ll pick you up’ and ‘I’m sorry I just got caught up in work’ conversations weren’t making it better. Each time he fell through he had a better lie than last time. Ones that made sense in your little brain. You didn’t finally grasp that he wasn’t ever coming until your 16th birthday. Your mom had saved up as much money as she could to pay for an extravagant party for you and you invited your dad. Of course he agreed and said he’d be in attendance that night which got you excited. But as the night droned on, and the end of your party came to a close you found that everything he had ever said in the last 9 years had been a lie. You knew you’d get a call sometime next weekend about how busy he had gotten, but you figured you’d let it ring. Maybe Amelia would answer.

“You okay?” Ameilia asks you a few days later. You’re working on something to keep yourself busy when you look up to her. She’s sitting on her bed playing with a small toy your dad had given her years ago. 

“I’m fine…” came your quiet voice. She looked up at you and scoffed before throwing the toy into the box labeled goodwill. She was cleaning her side of your guys room before college, and it seemed she was trying to get away from your dad. Something you knew you’d need to do yourself, but haven’t done just yet.

“Do you miss him?” came her soft voice. You turned to her once more before swallowing. You shuffled a bit on your bed before coming to the edge and sitting down. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. Do you lie? Tell the truth? “It’s okay if you do. I did too for a while.” you look up at this. Another toy gets tossed into the box and she looks back at you. 

“Do you still?” comes your quiet question. Your 16th birthday was the one time you expected your father to come through. But you couldn’t help but feel sad that he didn’t. You could deal with any other lie, but a lie about missing this big of a milestone in your life? inexcusible.

“Do me a favor.” You look up to find her standing from her bed. She has her hands on her hips, which is how you know she means what she’s about to say. “When I leave for school, if he keeps calling…don’t pick up. If the ringing bothers you pick it up and slam it back down. But don’t speak to him ever again. He’s not worth your tears (Y/N/N).”

With no closure, just getting older

Now almost 8 years after that conversation you still find it in you to have his number saved. You try not to answer the phone but his persistence quietly eats at the back of your brain making you answer the phone, though you’d never admit that to your sister. You’d never hear the end of it from her. She’d eat at you about the closure you both never got. Which would make you not want to disappoint her but you can’t make them both happy. So for now, you pretend you haven’t answered his calls in years. But you know and it eats at you. The pain you experienced from not really having your dad in your life made growing up harder than it should. Nobody to chase the boys away, nobody to cry to when you felt your mom was being unfair, nobody to bring you to the ‘daddy daughter’ dances. A figment of your imagination, a silhouette of a man you once knew. Nobody to introduce Spence to, have dinners with, walk you down the aisle when that time comes. Just emptiness. 

And the older you got the easier it got to ignore the calls. When you managed to get a job at the BAU every excuse after was about how busy you were. New case, no time on your hands, working overtime, no vacation time, ect. Nothing you ever came up with for an excuse was ever about something normal. It was always about your job. Which put you in a temporary peace of mind. Your phone stopped ringing all the time and only rang sometimes. Your call log stopped being filled with ‘dad’ and in turn at the top of your messages was always a new excuse on why you didn’t answer. And for a while the lies became easier, something you no longer thought about but instead typed out and sent before going back to sitting on your couch. Which had turned you into him, and made you feel guilty so you went back to answering.

But you still see me as a kid on your shoulders

“Can’t wait to see you again! We can go to the park and eat ice cream after!” is the first text you see when you come out of the house you and your team had just barged into. You don’t respond to the text, you instead clear your throat and lock your phone before looking around and checking which car you’d be riding back to the station in.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

“Why do you even care about dad? It’s not like he cared about us.” Your sister had asked during one thanksgiving where she was home from school. You shrugged before continuing to wipe off your makeup. Yet another festivity you had invited him to that he had missed.

“He did. At some point…” you whispered into the air. You watched Ameilia roll her eyes and scratch her nose before she threw her hands up and turned away from you. 

“Right. Blood doesn’t make you family you know. He’s only half of our DNA anyway.” She grabs her phone off her bed and heads out of your old shared room and towards the bathroom with a tune humming behind her. You wished you could feel like her. Thriving even without dad. Living.

Still, you don't know me at all

“Maybe we just do the ice cream. The park isn’t for me anymore.” is the only thing you text back. Before you can lock your phone a message comes in and you read it.

“Sorry Munchie. I forget you’re not so small anymore.” Munchie. He hadn’t called you that since before the divorce. It plays in your head over and over again before you will yourself to type something back.

“I am unfortunately 23 now, dad.” You lock your phone immediately before you can accidentally read another text. You go to slip your phone into your pocket and feel it vibrate almost immediately. You shrug it off and pay attention to what Hotch is telling you from the driver’s seat. Right now this is more important. Catching your killer is more important. But Munchie plays in your head anyway.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

“You still don’t miss him?” you question your sister as she’s getting ready for bed. She turns to you and her smile drops immediately. 2 years ago she had asked if you missed him, and now you're asking her if she misses him. You know the answer though.

“Does he miss us?” You can hear the aggravation in her voice as she answers you. She pulls her blankets back on her old bed and plugs her phone onto the charger.

“Of course he does.” comes your reply. She turns and places her hands on her hips, a notion that she was getting serious.

“Text him. Text him that you miss him and tell me what he says." She motions towards your phone before walking out of your room. An hour later she come back in from her shower and heads to her own bed. She sits down and reaches for the lamp that was on. “Anything?”

“No…” comes your solemn reply. You had been staring at the phone since you sent it. Eyes bloodshot and bleary.

“Open your fucking eyes, (Y/N).” and then the light is gone. And all you are left with is a broken heart, a fading phone screen, and tears streaming down your face.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

“Dinner guys?” Hotch voices as you all leave the station with one more bad guy caught. You look over your team who is all fondly talking to one another.

“Absolutely. All on you Hotch?” Morgan jokes while clapping Hotch on the shoulder. Hotch spares him a side eye before letting out a small chuckle. 

“Absolutely not.” He pats Morgan’s chest before turning to you and Reid. The entire team turns and you find everyone staring at you. Spencer included. 

“(Y/N)?” JJ has her bottom lip between her teeth and she’s holding back a smile. You chalk up wallowing in self pity to a later time and smile.

“Family dinner it is.” Spencer smiles at you before throwing an arm over your shoulder and walking with you to the car.

Hate when people say that our noses are the same

So I went and got a change, like three-quarters of L.A

Three weeks later you’re walking in from lunch with Spencer when you see the rest of your team crowding around Penelope. She has an ipad in her hands and she’s pointing at something on it when you both approach. You find a picture of JJ’s family on it and they’re pointing out the similarities in JJ now. You shake your head and head to your desk when you hear your name.

“Wow (Y/L/N). You look just like your dad.” Emily’s voice cuts through the team’s jabbering and you freeze. You hated hearing that. You looked like him and now you don’t reach out like him. Every call is from him and not from you.

“What?” You ask, turning around slowly. Emily points at the Ipad in Penelope’s hand and Penelope turns it to you. You find a picture of you, Amelia, your mom and your dad all dressed in your sunday best for easter photos. You had to be no older than 6. Sometime right before the divorce.

“It’s like copy and paste.” JJ smiles at you and you try to fake one back. Except it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Jj, Penelope and Emily all notice and like a switch the Ipad is turned around and they all shut up.

“Except her nose is a bit smaller now. It was larger when she was a kid.” Morgan continues. He has a smile on his face and he shows no limit of stopping. Emily turns to him and you see her make a gesture that he completely ignores. JJ taps at his biceps and he shakes it off. Reid goes to open his mouth and stop him but the damage is done. “You get a nose job (Y/L/N)?” everyone's eyes go wide and you blink a few times. Before he can rush out an apology you’re cleaning your desk and grabbing your things. You needed an out. You wanted no one to know about your father or your nose job, but now your whole team knew.

And I've dated shitty people 'cause of how you treated mom

Now I'm with somebody good, but I'm still feeling numb 'cause of

The next day you come in and the subject is on shitty exes. JJ, Emily and Penelope are discussing the ins and outs of how shitty their love life has been or is going. Except obviously JJ. She’s got Will and a newborn. Who wouldn’t love to be in JJ’s shoes. You reach your desk and keep quiet. You’d usually add in your two cents by now but with what had happened yesterday and your abrupt shift end you don’t add your input due to the shitty list of men you had from the ripe age of 14 to 20. Instead you listen to theirs. And it wasn’t like you were expecting an apology. You weren’t. You were just taking your time in getting over the fact that you’d never be able to skip the accusations of looking exactly like your father. A spitting image of him. Like a mirror.

“How is it to be with Reid? Is he how I think he is?” Emily speaks to you first. You turn to her with a relaxed smile and lean back in your chair. You cross your legs over the other and cock your head.

“How do you think he is?” you question her. She looks at JJ and Pen before clearing her throat and giving you an awkward smile.

“The same here, but more relaxed. And always talking your ear off.” JJ holds back a laugh by licking her bottom lip and Pen just smacks Emily’s arm softly.

“He’s actually quieter. And cuddlier than in public, but that’s because he doesn’t like PDA.” You shrug like this is  normal conversation. And of course it is because it’s you talking to your girl friends about your boyfriend, but it isn’t because these are your teammates and your boyfriend is one of them.

“Hey about yesterday-” Emily starts but you wave her off. You make a funny face before stretching.

“No apologies needed. It’s fine.” and then you turn back towards your desk and you continue working on the file at hand. You play it off well but you refuse to let them know that their words have been on constant repeat in your head since you heard them. 

Trust issues, I'm soaking tissues

Lyin' to my sister like I never miss you

Ameilia calls you and catches you off guard the weekend after it happens. She starts the call off by saying something about her wedding which gives you a moment to collect yourself from the multiple crying sessions you’ve had. But you slip and let out a sniffle and she hears it. She stops all conversation and listens for a minute. You try to play it off and speak to her but your voice gives it away.

“What’s wrong?” she asks into the phone. You sniffle again before clearing your throat. You give yourself some time before answering and sigh.

“Nothing Ames. Continue talking about your wedding.” You plaster a fake smile on your face even though she can’t see you. You wipe at your bloodshot eyes and throw yet another tissue into the pile on the table.

“Is it dad?” she asks. You open your mouth to disagree and stop yourself. Then you continue with your lie. You’re just as bad as him, half of him. A liar.

“What? No. I don’t talk to him-” you start to go on a tangent and you hear your sister’s voice break your train of thought. 

“I know you’re still talking to him. I spoke to mom.” Is the only thing she says to you. You sigh into the phone and shake our head. Leave it to your mother to break your 8 year lie apart

“I-” you start but you hear your sister on the other line. She sighs and sniffles before quickly covering it up with clearing her throat.

“I wish I loved him the same way you do. I really do.” And without missing another beat she goes back to talking about her wedding. Anything to not talk about dad.

Say you'll visit, empty promise

God, I wish that for once you'd be honest

A couple of weeks go past and you’re back in your hometown with Spencer. He hadn’t managed to get vacation time with you, but he had a couple of days saved up and decided to use 2 of them for dinner with your dad. Something you had asked him for and he immediately dropped everything to be in attendance. He knew the history with your father. And how much you tried to refuse talking to him. He thought that if you could face this, he’d be able to ask your father if he could marry you. Because that was all he was waiting for, a chance to ask properly.

So you found a hotel and a great place for dinner. Texted your dad and told him where and when to meet you. You got dressed in the hotel room, called a cab to ride in for the dinner and walked in with your head high when you said you had a reservation for 3. You sat at the table shuffling with anxiety and Spencer watched hoping that this wouldn’t be like all the other times. The times that had you sniffling and crying for days on end. The times you spent in your apartment and not his because you didn’t want him seeing you that way. But as time went on, one hour went to two and then three and your drinks went from just one to six. He saw the look on your face. One of defeat and embarrassment. And you chalked it up to another defeat when you called your waiter over and had them close out your six cup wine tab and Spencer’s one glass of water. You signed the $300 dollar tab and left two crisp hundred dollar bills for wasting your waiter’s time and stood. Spencer followed and you both made your way to the hotel.

It's just anatomy, you're only half of me

Still, you don't know me at all

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in some work and fell asleep at the office. Dinner on me next week instead? You’ll still be in town then right?” You read the text and throw your phone on the bed and turn to Spencer who is looking at you with his hands in his pocket. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls his hands from his pockets and opens his arms for you to fall into. And you do. You sigh and fall into his arms and waste no time crying your eyes out.

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

Guess I meant less than I thought

You now understood why Ameilia never sent your father a wedding invite. He wouldn’t pull through back then for either of you, what makes your silly little heart think he’d pull through last night? Or for her wedding? Another ping finds your ears as you watch Spencer gather his things for the airport.

“Munchie. I’m sorry.” “Munchie, I'll be at The Brindleton for lunch. My treat.” “Munchie. Please call me back. I love you”. You don’t notice Spencer looking at you or the tilt in his head as he analyzes your body language. He’s trying to gauge how you feel about your father because unbeknownst to you, you crying in his arms last night solidified that maybe you were ready for anything that comes after 3 years 9 months 19 days and 6 hours of dating. That black velvet box that has been sitting behind the books you find most boring on his bookshelf is now digging a hole into his heart. You look up and find him staring and you just smile at him. And he smiles back.

It's just anatomy

Hate that you're half of me

You flew in 3 hours ago and found yourself at Spencer’s place. Playing with his fingers as he lays on the couch underneath you. Your phone blares your ringtone and Spencer looks at you. You pick it up, watch it ring and when it’s done he notices the multitude of calls you’ve missed. 19. All of them from your father. And he watches as you open your phone, and block his number. Then you delete his contact and set your phone down again. He watches as you contently lie back down and sigh. A silent relief falling off your shoulders. His eyes fly to the bookshelf and then back to you. 

“Hey, why'd you come straight to mine?” Spencer crane's his neck to look at you and you shrug. You spare him no glance as you melt into him even more. He wouldn't have thought that was possible minutes ago.

“I was ready to come home.” your simple answer does it for him. He makes up his mind immediately. And you do too.

It's just anatomy, you make up half of me

On your 4 year anniversary Spencer pops the question. Over dinner at home. And of course you say yes, excited to show your mom and sister. No longer does your father cross your mind. Instead it’s filled with what your future could look like. Half Spencer, half you.

But still, you don't know me at all

You get the occasional call to your work phone but you’ve seen that number before and instead you ignore it. Spencer and the team watches as you do. No longer does it bother anyone because the only place he can reach you is work, and unfortunately a lot of calls go unanswered as a government worker. 

You've been my missing piece, so why aren't you missing me?

You watch your sister walk down the aisle in front of you with her fiance’s dad guiding her. Which makes you think about how you’d like to walk you down the aisle. You turn to Spencer who’s looking ahead at your sister and smile. Your missing piece was never your father. You just held a spot open for someone to love and missed the clear sign that there was always someone there.

Guess I meant less than I thought

A year and a half go by and you’re sitting at your sister’s house with Spencer. She hands you a small box and you find a small cupcake, its topper, a baby pacifier. You gasp as you stand and reach for your sister with wide eyes. She squeals as you squeeze her and turn to Spencer who has dug his finger in the icing of your cupcake. You roll your eyes and turn to Ameilia.

“You are going to be the BEST auntie ever. I love you.” it no longer hurts to hear I love you. Especially when you know the person saying it means it. It means even more when you know you mean it too.

“I love you more.”

It's just anatomy

“For all it’s worth…I knew you had a nose job. I just loved your face so much I never said anything.” Spencer whispers into your ear the night before the wedding. You roll over and face him with creased eyebrows. 

“Are you sure it isn’t because you profiled me and knew I wasn’t going to ever recover if you had told me you knew?” You ask it in a joking way but Spencer can see the truth behind it. 5 years, 7 months, 24 days, 23 hours and 56 minutes of loving you and he can tell everything about you. He never misses a chance to learn something new though. 

“It could be that…” he mumbles as he shoves his face between your breasts in a way of getting more comfortable. If neither of you get any sleep the wedding won’t be exactly as you planned it. And he would hate to make his bride’s perfect wedding go wrong. “Angel, it’s just anatomy. I wouldn’t have cared. I still don’t.” he whispers it and you almost don’t hear it. Almost. But you do and you shuffle closer before wrapping your arms around him.

“And that is why I said yes.” you kiss the top of his head before closing your eyes and attempting to fall asleep. A full day is ahead of you in no less than 10 hours.

Hate that you're half of me

“You ready?” you turn and find Hotch at your side. You wouldn’t have asked for a better father figure to walk you down the aisle. And he was honored you asked. He turns to you and adjusts your dress once more mumbling about modesty and returns to your right side. He holds his arm out for you and you lay your hand in the slit of his elbow.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” comes your response. And within seconds the door is opening, the music is playing, and Hotch is walking you down the aisle. Blood surely didn’t make this family, you did. The BAU was your family. Your dad was just…anatomy.

[differenteagletragedy]

What if you are married to Simon but you still have eyes and Price is right there, what then ↓

It's so hot. The sun is beating down outside, summer in full swing, but inside your house the heat is oppressive. It's suffocating.

"Simon, just call someone to fix it," you whine, walking around until you find your husband with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back, reading something on his phone.

"Don't need anyone to fix it," he mutters, not looking up at you. "Can do it myself."

You groan, because it's painfully clear at this point that he in fact cannot fix it. It's been three days since the air conditioning went out, and three days of Simon trying everything he can think of to fix it. He's been flipping breakers, messing with the thermostat, taking tools to the unit outside, but nothing's worked, because Simon does not know what he's doing.

"I'm going to die," you tell him, sinking down onto the couch. "I'm going to perish and it's all going to be your fault."

You see him smirk, but he still doesn't look up. Instead, he tells you, "You're going to survive this, sweetheart. Going to have it up and running by tonight."

"Why won't you call an actual repairman? Why are you insisting on whatever this is?"

"Cute," he says, finally glancing up at you with a grin. "You're the one who married a stubborn bastard, what do you think?"

You think it's a mix of pride and sheer unwillingness to be outsmarted by a hunk of metal and parts, but you don't say that. Instead, you continue whining.

The next morning, Simon still hasn't figured it out. You tell him more directly, dramatics aside, that you're very uncomfortable and would just like to solve the problem in a normal, reasonable manner.

He makes a deal with you. He's not ready to completely give up and call in outside help just yet. But he will call Johnny.

"Does Johnny know how to repair a heating and cooling unit?" you ask, entirely unconvinced.

He answers, "Johnny knows a lot of things."

A couple of hours later, Johnny comes over, his own tools in tow, and he's brought along a surprise -- Kyle.

You keep your groan to yourself this time and just bring the men drinks while they work. Or, well, while Johnny and Kyle nod while Simon tells them everything he's done that hasn't worked. It doesn't take them long to switch from water to beer, and at this point you're pretty sure you're actually going to die.

"You know," Kyle says at one point, carrying the latest round of empty bottles to the trash, "I think the captain had something like this happen a few years back. I seem to remember overhearing him talking to the missus about it in a call."

"Is that why she divorced him?" you ask. "He wouldn't call a repairman and kept telling her he could fix it himself?"

Simon gives you a look, and you give it right back -- you know you're being cheeky, but the heat really is miserable.

But Kyle only laughs and shakes his head, saying "No, I don't think that's what did it. He got it fixed, I believe, he's pretty handy with things like that."

It's your turn to shoot Simon at look. Your husband shakes his head, twisting the top off another beer, and says, "Absolutely not."

"Simon."

"Sweetheart."

"Please."

An hour or so later, John arrives. And, ever so slightly, the atmosphere shifts. Simon, Johnny and Kyle stand just a little bit straighter, their voices get the tiniest bit more business-like. They're not standing at attention now that the captain is here, it's not that notable, but now it's clear that someone is in charge.

It's cute, you think as you watch them. You smile softly, watching Simon as he gives John a debriefing on everything he's tried so far, and you don't notice that John's eyes linger on you just a fraction of a second longer than what might be considered acceptable.

The captain is the one who finally gets the air conditioning running again, but it's no small effort. From the window, you watch as Price tinkers with something within the unit, and you smile when you hear it kick on, a nearby vent starting the work of circulating cool air through the too-hot house.

"What did you do?" you ask John, a bit of wonder in your voice, when they all come back inside to make sure everything is in order. "Simon's been going at it for days and you got it in half an hour."

The older man gives you a small, tight smile, reaching out to tap Simon's shoulder lightly.

"Just a blown capacitor, love," he tells you. "Easy enough fix."

You return his smile like you always do -- you like John. Always have. It's something, you think, about how similar he can be to Simon. Both men are strong and solid, deeply masculine in a way that's natural, not forced. They both have deep, rumbling voices that you feel in your chest when they speak. And sometimes, though you don't know John as well as you know Simon, of course, you think that the captain has something wild in him, too. Some kind of ache that runs deep through him, one that he's muzzled and tamed long ago.

Your Simon struggles with it still, though less since you married him. It's why he still wears a mask on the job, and why he wrestles, on a base level, with the idea of being seen.

John, you think, wears a different kind of mask. You can see it when he comes over for dinner some evenings, in the way that even after a full meal, dessert and a glass of scotch, the tension stays in his shoulders. You've never seen the man relaxed, and from what Simon's said of him, he hasn't either. It's his tight grip on control, of himself and those around him. He clings to it.

"Is that thing really working?" Johnny asks, grabbing another beer. "It's still hot as hell in here."

"It'll take a while to cool down, but it's working," John answers.

He's as sweaty as the others, but he doesn't complain. Instead, he lifts the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe his face. You look down -- your eyes just tracking the motion, you tell yourself -- to see his belly bared, covered in a thick coating of dark hair and just the slightest bit soft.

When you pull your eyes back to his, he's giving you a grin, but if he caught you staring, he doesn't say anything.

"You wanna get Price a drink?" Simon asks, smirking at you. "For saving your life and all."

You nod, turning back to the kitchen, pulling out the scotch you keep just for him and trying to clear your head.

Sure, John is an attractive man. So is Kyle, so is Johnny. And for that matter, so is Simon. Your husband.

But still, when you return to the group of men gathered in your living room, your fingers brush against John's as you hand him the drink. And you can't help but think about what that beard would feel like against your cheek, between your thighs. How it would feel if, even for just a little while, you were the thing he felt that desperate, innate need to control.

[enby-spacerok]

I'm so glad people jumped on the reblog to pop off on this ass hat. I was about to site a number of these artists.

I had the opportunity to hang a show with Chihuly's prints and sketches many years ago (way after his accident) and it's amazing how he creates gestureally to get across to his team the /feeling/ of his intended creation in order to guide the people he works with. Here's some of his process:

He draws with brooms, mops, paintbrushes, his hands, bundles of pencils, and torches. The results of this collaborative process (although I want to note all glass blowing is collaborative) is stunning:

Frida Khalo was not the only artist to paint from her bed or use a back brace. But let me remind you that not only do disabled people create art, they can be inspired by their disability. Their experience is a part of their creativity.

Kahlo is quoted saying "To create your own paradise, you have to draw from your personal hell. "

I met a watercolor painter 15+ years ago in my hometown who did amazing work (I told her so because I have always struggled with that process) and she painted with her feet because she was born without arms. I spent an hour+ talking to her and she told me how infantilized she'd been her whole life, constantly told what she couldn't do. And she went out and did all those things. She was making a living just doing what she loves. /And/ she's disabled.

I worked with a woman in a ceramic studio who had severe back problems due to an accident so she couldn't create sculpture through carving and sitting over something for long hours. So she stood and did slab work instead, making the tools work for her and limiting her sculpting time into smaller chunks.

@pizzaronipasta you're being a fukin dumbass who's current idea of art is quite short sighted. It's sad.

I've seen an artist who "paints" with gunpowder. While Cai Guo-Qiang is not disabled (to my knowledge) I want to highlight that art is not just traditional painting. Open your mind to beauty 🫴

Artists do not struggle to learn, to craft, to delve into humility and admit "I don't know how to do this but I want to get better because I love it. so I will make the shitty thing first before it becomes what I see in my mind, what I feel in my soul" just so you can skip all that on the toothpick thin argument that stealing is justified in the name of 'helping' those poor disabled people. Art is a struggle. It is the point. The struggle itself teaches you and drives you to find solutions, whatever your ability. To take that away, like with AI, is to take away the soul of art and sterilize it for consumption.

Stop infantiling people who struggle because the world was at default not necessarily made for them. You're doing more harm. If your heart is truly in the right place, take a step back and do some deeper thinking and self reflection.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[femmenature]

Devoted to you

The creator of this content does not speak English, constructive criticism on grammar is welcome😭

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader (without a house specified)

Summary: You and Mattheo aren't serious. But seeing you in class talking so animatedly with another guy makes his feelings take an unexpected turn.

Warnings: Bad words, mentions of sexual topics (almost none)

-

Mattheo usually didn't pay attention in class, his only role was to occasionally annoy Theodore. But now? He'd never been so focused, watching everything you did, the way you looked at the idiot sitting next to you. The way your eyelashes fluttered, causing him to constantly need to see you. The way one of your legs was draped over the other, lifting your skirt. The way your hair was positioned in the perfect place, a small strand falling across your face as if it had been an paid actor to make you look even more beautiful and romantic. The way your perfume filled the classroom, making it impossible to ignore it, to ignore you. Your laughter filled every corner of his mind, but knowing that you weren't laughing with him, but with someone else, made his hands tremble with envy, with anger. A sigh of longing escaped his lips, and a look of need for you appeared, unwilling and unable to hide it.

"What the hell are you doing?" He thought to himself. He knows you're not in a relationship with him, he knows it's nothing serious, so why did he let this feeling get this far? Why did he let it go so deep? Now he knows that by not saying it, by hiding it, his body is starting to give it away. The vein in his neck, his trembling hands, his labored breathing, the anguish in his chest, his clenched jaw and his piercing eyes on you. It's impossible to hide it, he's desperate. And on the other hand, he wondered how the hell you're not feeling the same as him, how can you be talking to someone else when you both know each other so well, so deeply. And it's not just about the sex and the passion in bed anymore. Was it casual when you listened to his family's problems while he lay on your chest? When he cried sitting on your bed waiting for you to appear, knowing that you were the only one who knows about his darkness, about his father?

When he could no longer hide his pain, Mattheo abruptly stood up from his seat, earning a couple of glances, though he was only interested in yours. He didn't care, since all he needed was to get out of there right now. When he was finally able to escape the classroom, he walked quickly through the empty hallways, since everyone was in class, where he should be. But a voice made him stop in his tracks, and the only one who can do that is you, he knows it very well.

"Mattheo, what's going on? Why did you leave like that?" Your voice comes out in a wary tone. You're worried, he never did that, he always seemed so cool and carefree. Even though you know him, you know him too well for that action to go unnoticed. You know he didn't leave like that because he was bored with class or because he was having a rebellious moment; it's more than that.

Without turning around, Mattheo spoke to you calmly, trying to control his voice so you wouldn't find out what was really wrong with him. "It's nothing, go back to class. I don't feel like being there, so I just left. You can tell them I feel bad or some lie like that." You rolled your eyes, knowing it was bullshit. Why would he lie to you now? Knowing so much about each other, what is he hiding from you that it's so serious? "Seriously, you expect me to believe your excuse?"

"I don't expect anything from you. I saw you were having fun, so I don't mean to interrupt," he snapped. Your shoulders tensed, and you watched as his fists clenched, trying to hold back the words eager to escape his throat. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And turn around if you're going to accuse me of stupid things, Mattheo."

His body turns slowly, looking into your eyes. He couldn't help but love the way you command him, the way you control him so effortlessly, the way you have him wrapped around your fingers. He needs you to keep playing with him like he's your puppet. He'd let you do whatever you want to him, but he doesn't say it. He can't tell you, he can't look weak in front of everyone, in front of you. But the truth is, he's devoted to you. Every word, every order, every complaint, every step you take toward him is a dagger in his chest. Your face is the most sacred art to him; he'd tear down every painting at Hogwarts to fill them with you. Your legs, your hands, your lips, your eyes.

His eyes remained fixed on you, the brightness in them evident every thought that crossed his mind. With a small, frustrated whisper, he finally spoke. "Am I really nothing to you? Because I'm going crazy just looking at you and you seem so... cold about it." Your eyebrows raised for a second, unable to maintain a neutral face while listening to him. "What are you talking about? You started this by establishing that we're not serious at all, in fact, that we never will be."

"I know, I know what I said. But that was before I knew you, really knew you. Before I didn't know how sweet your voice was when you tried to cheer me up. I didn't know how soft your hands were when you caressed my face. I didn't know that someone could wake up so beautiful and I didn't know that each one of my sighs would be eternally dedicated to you. The time we spent together during these months changed me, like my face has never been so good since you came into my life, without all those injuries. Everyone asks me why I don't get into fights like before, and even I surprise myself. Until I remember who I do it for, I do it for you and that is reason enough to stop. You are reason enough for everything you want me to do, just tell me, tell me what I have to do to be only yours because truly I don't want anyone else"

Your body is drawn to his words, your steps moving closer to him, standing face to face. You couldn't hide your smile, how could you? This is the moment you've been waiting for. "First, I want to make something clear. I wasn't having fun in class, I laughed at the jokes he told out of obligation, I didn't want to be that bad either. I think you know my real laugh well enough to know that it was fake." His face relaxes, letting out his characteristic smirk. "Second: you don't need to do anything, Mattheo Riddle. I was yours the moment you asked my name so confidently. Although I tried to avoid it, I guess the rumors are true. You're irresistible," you said the last bit ironically, while he let out a small laugh, rolling his eyes. "So... is this the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend? Or do I have to make a fool of myself again, but this time in front of the entire Hogwarts dining hall? Because if you want, I will." You tilt your head slightly, looking into his eyes, still with a smile on your face. "Come here, idiot." You pull him by the tie and kiss his lips, which you knew so well, but now it's different. Now it's better, because he's yours.

-

I owed this to my Harry Potter girls. 🫡💚

Maybe I'll release one of Van's today! Again, I apologize if I misspelled anything!

[kamisobsessed]

15 + Dean Winchester

Maybe

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: After a hunt with your friend and hunting partner, Dean, you meet a guy at a bar. Dean gets jealous and wants to show you who you actually belong to.

Warnings: MDNI 18+. Smut. Unprotected Sex. P in V. Fingering. Semi-Public Sex. Creampie. Dom!Dean. Jealous!Dean. Dean's gets kinda mean but in a hot way. No use of y/n. Idk I might have missed some. Not edited well.

A/N: Smut prompt #15 from this prompt list! Thanks for the request Mari, I hope you love it!

masterlist — taglist

──────────────────────

When Sam went to college, Dean needed a new hunting partner when his dad wasn't around. So when he met you, you both began hunting together. Everything between you was strictly platonic, but deep down there was always that subtle tension between the two of you.

After a quick salt and burn, you and Dean went to a local bar, something you often did after a hunt together. The nights usually ended up with you going back to the motel alone and Dean going who knows where with some girl.

While sitting at the bar, the bartender brings you over a shot, "From the gentleman at the end of the bar," the bartender says, gesturing toward the end of the bar where you see a tall, attractive man sitting. He raises his glass and shoots you a wink.

Dean's jaw clenches when he sees this, but he hides his, what one can assume is only jealousy, and he takes a sip of his whiskey.

After giving a small smile to the attractive man, you take the shot and down it, setting the glass back down onto the bar counter.

"Seriously?" Dean says.

"What? Not gonna say no to a free shot," you shrug with a grin.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbles sipping his whiskey.

"Order me another whiskey, I'm going to go hit the restroom," you say as you get up from your seat at the bar.

Dean grunts in acknowledgment, "Don't be long."

After you use the restroom, as you make your way back toward the bar, you're stopped by the same attractive man who bought you the shot.

"Hey gorgeous," the man smiles, "I'm Tyler."

You smile a little and give him your name, "Thanks for the shot."

"Not a problem, pretty thing like you, I'd buy you anything," he smirks with a wink.

You can't help the grin that forms on your face, "How about another drink?"

He leans in, placing a hand on your waist, "I was thinking, maybe we could get out of here...have some fun elsewhere...?" he asks lowly, his breath warm against your ear.

You glance over at Dean who is already flirting it up with some girl at the bar before turning your gaze back to the man in front of you with a smile, "Sure, lead the way."

His smirk turns into a grin as he takes your hand and leads you to the exit of the bar.

Dean's gaze swept over the crowd of people in the bar when he noticed you leaving with the man who bought you the shot.

"Sorry sweetheart, gotta run," Dean excuses himself from the girl he was talking to. He throws down some money onto the bar and he makes his way to the exit.

You hear Dean call your name as you and Tyler walk down the sidewalk. You stop and turn around and see him coming toward you.

"Who's this?" Tyler asks you.

"A friend," You say through gritted teeth as Dean walks up to you.

"Where are you going?" Dean asks you, acting as if he can't guess.

"I'll be back in the morning, don't wait up for me," You tell him, your expression clearly annoyed.

"No, you're coming back with me. Now." He says, leaving no room for argument. He takes your arm and pulls you away from Tyler.

"Dean!" You grunt, trying to get out of his grasp.

"Hey man, get your hand off her!" Tyler says and he gives Dean a shove.

Dean reacts by punching Tyler square in the jaw, "no, how about you get your hands off my girl," he says before turning to you, "let's go. now," he says lowly before tugging your arm, pulling you away from Tyler.

"Dean, what the hell do you think you're doing!" You try to pull away from him as you walk down the alley.

"Taking you back to the motel."

"What the hell is your problem!" You finally pull your arm from his grip.

"My problem!? You were just gonna leave me at the bar and go sleep with that guy?!" He snaps back at you, standing right in front of you.

"Yeah, maybe I was, so what?! I'm a grown ass woman, Dean!"

He lets out a huff, "Well, maybe I don't want you to!"

He walks towards you more, cupping your chin with his hand as he leads you backwards until you're against the wall, "Maybe, just maybe, I want you all to myself." He says lowly, his eyes filled with desire and a hint of possessiveness.

"Dean, are you jealo—" You're words are cut off with his lips on yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth, claiming your mouth completely with his.

You let out a whimpered moan into his mouth to which he responds with a low growl as he moves his lips down your jaw to your neck, leaving a trail of marks behind.

"Maybe I am. Maybe I don't want you going with other guys..." he says kissing back up to your jaw. He lifts his head to look into your eyes, "Maybe I want you to be mine."

Dean claims your mouth in another kiss, his hands moving to your waist a he holds you against the brick wall of the building behind you.

He breaks the kiss and spins your around so you're facing the wall.

He leans forward so his lips are right by your ear, "I'm gonna show you just how much you belong to me," he says in an almost growl in your ear, earning yet another whimpered sound from your mouth.

"Yeah, you like that huh? You want me to make you mine, baby? Right here in this alley, where anyone could walk back here and see us?"

You bite your lip nodding your head, fully submitting to him. When Dean gets possessive, it's hard to not resist the temptations.

"Good girl, baby. Such a good girl," He says lowly as he reaches his hand around your waist. He unbuttons the button on your jeans before slipping his hand in to the waistband.

He runs his finger over the fabric of your already soaked underwear, "Holy fuck baby...this wet already and I barely touched you—" he says as he slides your underwear to the side, running a finger up through your folds.

"D-Dean—" You moan his name, trembling in his arms already.

"Gonna make you feel so good baby...you'll forget you ever even thought about leaving with that guy," He growls into your ear as he rubs circles over your clit making yor breath hitch.

He grips your hip with his free hand as he slides a finger into your slick hole, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot to make you moan.

"That's it baby, gonna make you cum all over my fingers," he continues to move his fingers at a quickening pace inside you as you moan his name.

"Fuck- Dean...oh—" You moan as you feel a tightness in your core ready to release at any moment.

"Cum for me baby, that's it sweetheart," he whispers as he attaches his lips and teeth to your neck, surely leaving bruises.

You feel your release wash over you as you fall apart in his arms, his fingers continuing to move, eventually slowing.

"Atta girl baby...so good for me," He whispers as he removes his hand from your pants, sticking his fingers to his mouth licking every last drop of you off of them.

"Fuck—" you whisper, as you catch your breath, still pressed against the wall in Dean's grip.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart," He says lowly, gripping your hips tight with both hands.

He unbuckles his belt, tugging his pants down enough to pull out his throbbing cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip that is already leaking with precum.

He tugs your jeans and underwear down to your thighs, "Stay quiet for me, sweetheart, we don't want someone finding us back here, do we?" he smirks as he runs his cock through your folds. You bite your lip to hold back a noise as you nod.

Dean slowly sinks his cock into you, inch by inch until he is fully buried deep inside you. "Fuck baby, still so goddamn tight," He groans. You let out a strained whimpered moan, trying to stay quiet like he said.

Dean slowly slid out, before thrusting back in fully, earning a moan from your lips. "Ah ah baby, stay quiet sweetheart."

He begins thrusting into you at a steady pace, slowly picking up speed, "Fuck baby, feels so damn good, this pussy was made for me baby, no one else."

You let out a quiet moan, covering your mouth with your hand as he pounds into you. You use your other hand to steady yourself against the brick wall in front of you.

He reaches for your face, grabbing your chin to make you look back at him before sticking two fingers in your mouth, the fingers he had just had deep inside you, the taste of yourself still lingering on his skin as he shoves his fingers down your throat while slamming into you.

"Such a good girl for me. All mine sweetheart, got it?" He says, "All. Fucking. Mine." He growls with each thrust.

He removes his fingers from your mouth, wrapping his hand around your throat as he continues to thrust up into you. You feel that familiar feeling build again in your core.

Dean can tell you're getting close, "Cum on my cock sweetheart, let me feel you squeeze around me baby," He says, moving his hand around your waist to your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure as he rubs circles over it.

This pushes you over the edge as you moan his name, trying your best to stay quiet. You clench around his cock as you cum, your legs almost giving out beneath you, but his grip on your hip prevents you from falling.

"Good girl, so fucking perfect baby, fuck you're so good f'me" he moans as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

His thrusts get sloppier as he nears his own release, "Gonna fill this pussy up. Gonna make you mine baby, all mine."

He lets out a guttural moan as his cock twitches inside you spilling warm ropes of his seed deep inside as he moans your name, his fingers digging into your hips.

He pulls out of you, tugging his jeans back up before turning you around to face him. He crouches down in front of you, admiring his handy work as he watches some of his cum leak out of your pussy. He takes two fingers, scooping it up and shoving it back in, "That stays where it belongs," he smirks before standing back up, face to face with you.

He takes your chin with his finger and thumb, tilting your head up to look at him, "I don't want you to ever leave with another man again, got it?"

You nod and the corners of his lips curl into a smile, "Good." He says. He helps you with your pants as you tug them back up your legs.

"You're mine now. We don't need anyone else but each other," he say softly, "Now let's get the hell outta here," he takes your hand lacing his fingers with yours, leading you out of the alley and to the Impala.

──────────────────────

taglist: @animelucky @mystic-writings @magster196 @soldierboysdoll @caplanbuckybarnes @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @mostlymarvelgirl @chevroletdean @waynes-multiverse

[whowrotethenote]

𝐒𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚…

Anything that's already up is staying up. I'm not deleting anything. You can kiss my ass. Eat dirt. Talk to God about it cause LaLa don't care. Block me if you have to.

Biggest Fan // I am going to see it through to the end. It was the first fic I posted and it seems to be the one everyone loves the most. It was coming to a close anyway. Not posting anymore visuals of him though. I’ll use his first name and imagine it’s someone else. It’s a story. Same way I don’t even condone what the two main characters are doing and am still writing it, is the same way I can finish the story and imagine Joe as someone else because I don’t support the original face claim. Reading is subjective. So you’ll interpret how you want anyway. Once it’s completed writing for Joe/Roman is clipped. Over with.

The Tribal Killer // Changing the last name of Roman as to not associate it with Joe. In my head it is someone else and I’m open to suggestions of other face claims (preferably similar to appearance in Joe because it fits the story’s description of him).

Any other fics I've been working on and haven’t posted yet, i'll just have to find other men as face claims and change the names.

Let’s pray to the most high that the twins are smarter than their cousin and keep quiet so I can post this Jey oneshot soon.

I wanna be clear that this blog does not support Joe or Roman any more. As a black woman I have to take a stance and draw a line. Being neutral and indifferent is not something I can afford as a minority. Silence also speaks volumes. If you're not apart of the solution you are apart of the problem.

People are dying, families being stripped apart all under Trump's administration. This mf has taken away the department of education. Closest endorser did a fucking Nazi salute on national television. Talks of martial law being declared. It couldn't be more blatant and in our faces than it is today. That project 2025 will be a bitch for anyone who still thinks politics is as simple as a difference in opinion. Me not caring whether someone lives or dies is not an opinion. It's a declaration with possibility of action. Trump is not just coming out of his mouth and saying he does not care for the well being of minorities, he's doing something about it. Period. And say it with me 🗣️ politics are not rooted in opinions they are rooted in beliefs. My father and uncles are politicians so I’m not chatting shit. These people push laws based on beliefs. They believe that a fetus is a person so they’re altering abortion laws to fit under murder. An opinion would be “I personally wouldn’t get an abortion.” Not pushing laws and declaring it murder. Be fr.

Everybody keeps trying to deep the context and talking about how he didn’t exclusively say “I voted for Trump.” I thought we were all readers lol. Please use your context clues. What do you think was meant by “clear choice.” Even “I support our president,” knowing who sits in that seat is insane. He said a whole bunch of nothing when he should’ve just said…nothing. It was irresponsible given his audience/fanbase. A simple “no comment,” would’ve sufficed. Then maybe y’all could get away with what he didn’t say exclusively and I’d understand. I get he said he doesn’t agree with everything that Trump does—but what he’s done and is still doing are too extreme to still support no matter what. And then that orange bitch getting an Ula Fala… yeah I see what’s going on here lol.

Also wanna be clear that I don’t hate Joe. I hate Trump so anyone who is indifferent or not clear and on the fence about him I have to take a step back from. I am disappointed and disgusted and I have every right to be. But hate is a strong word, especially for someone who is just ignorant or trying to save face for the sake of financial reasons. Not making excuses for Joe just calling it as I see it.

If you choose to still watch Mania/write about him that's your business. Not my job to micromanage grown ppl on the internet. I won't go around bashing ppl and I don't support that either.

All my mutuals, and other writers I’ve connected with—y’all know I fuck with y’all the long way. If you choose to still write for or about him that’s your business and I’ll respect it. Probably won’t repost it especially if you have his face on the post, but i’ll be supporting your art in other ways like commenting if I can.

I hope you all still support me as a writer regardless of who I am writing about. I've really enjoyed this fandom, everyone has been so kind, funny and enlightening thus far. I hope it stays that way. Thank you💗

And this is my last time speaking on it unless someone directly asks me a question or I see something funny and have to repost. (Y’all know I play too much.) Let’s stop giving our energy to things that don’t mean us any good. Cause honestly this is the reaction people like them want. They’re in entertainment. Their livelihoods depend on traction and buzz.

Back to this writing shit😂

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

I couldn't give two flying farts about Soldier Boy but your reply to that ask with the breeding kink? 🥵🫨😍

So here is my suuuper self-indulgent ask: what, in your opinion, is Sam's biggest kink(s)? The thing that drives him completely crazy? Could be younger Sam or older Sam (or both).

Kisses and thank you for your service! x

first of all. I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE!!!

"i couldn't give two flying farts" made me BARK like a goddamn seal.

i need to tell you right now. i have THOUGHTS. i've lost literal sleep spiralling over this very concept and i am thrilled—elated—to report that i believe our lord and saviour, sam winchester, absolutely, without question, has a buffet of kinks. so grab a snack, get cozy, maybe (definitely) hydrate a little, because i'm about to drop a full dissertation under the cut.

✨ younger sam (early seasons / stanford era / the “i’m a good boy but i also kind of want to ruin you” era) ✨

younger sam is... a problem. a menace. a walking, talking praise kink with floppy hair and puppy dog eyes who wants to be good so, so bad but is secretly desperate to wreck you. he’s all wide hands, shaky breathing, and the quiet, low whines he tries (and fails) to swallow down when you praise him. he wants to be gentle. he tries to be gentle. but the second you tell him he’s doing good? it’s over for you. and him. and the bedframe.

praise kink: this is canon. this is his religion. tell him he’s good and you will physically feel him get harder inside you.

oral fixation: he is obsessed with having his mouth on you. between your thighs, kissing up your spine, mouthing at your wrists—he wants to taste you everywhere.

desperation kink: the breathless, frantic way he grabs you like he might die if he doesn't get inside you immediately? yeah. that's not acting.

corruption kink (lite edition): if you’re shy or inexperienced? he’s obsessed with ruining you gently. calling you "sweetheart" or "pretty girl" while he makes you sob into his shoulder.

soft dom tendencies: he’s not fully confident yet, but when it sneaks out—when his hand tightens on your jaw or he says “keep your eyes on me”—it wrecks both of you.

possessiveness kink (hidden but dangerous): he’s so good at playing the polite, sweet, safe boy—but deep down? he’s lowkey deranged for you. seeing another guy look at you would make him snap in quiet, scary ways. "you're mine. you know that, right? no one else gets to see you like this." (growled against your throat while he's buried inside you)

hair pulling kink (getting pulled and pulling yours): we know sam’s hair is practically a character. you tug on it when you're kissing and he shudders. he pulls yours when he needs to anchor himself inside you. “hold still for me, baby. just like that, fuck—” (fist tangled in your hair, forehead pressed to yours)

slow burn / edging kink (accidental): younger sam tries to be so careful, so good at "making it last," but it gets messy fast. still, he’s fascinated by how much you squirm if he just won’t let you come right away. and it lights something dark in him.

and the thing about younger sam is that even though he's trying so hard to be good and sweet and careful with you, it’s so obvious he’s holding back something darker. something heavier. it’s in the way his hands shake when he grips your waist too tight. it’s in the way his voice drops when he gets too worked up.

and the second that boy grows up? the second he stops trying to pretend he’s not wired for obsession and control and desperate, all-consuming need?? it’s over for you. and him. and society at large.

✨ older sam (late seasons / “i have nothing left to lose except you, and i'll kill for you without blinking” era) ✨

older sam is... dangerous. soft in the places that matter, brutal everywhere else. he’s quieter now. more calculating. and when he wants something? when he wants you? he doesn’t ask. he takes.

control kink: you don't lift a finger unless he says so. he’s thought about everything already. he knows what you need better than you do. "hands above your head, sweetheart. there you go. let me take care of it."

size kink: sam winchester knows he’s a big boy. and he loves making you feel it. loves seeing you struggle a little. loves hearing you gasp when he stretches you open and just grins like the devil himself.

degradation kink (soft and firm): he can flip between praising you like you’re an angel and absolutely destroying you verbally in 0.5 seconds flat. "poor baby. can't even take a little cock without crying? thought you were my good girl."

ownership kink: if you think for one second you're walking outta there without a mark or his come leaking out of you, you're wrong. "gonna stay nice and full for me, aren't you, sweetheart? let everyone see who you belong to."

lowkey breeding kink: he doesn’t even say it half the time. he just fucks you so deep and so slow and so hard that your whole body knows it. but when he does say it? when he leans down and growls shit like "gonna keep you, baby. fill you up so good no one else’ll ever touch you again"? yeah. you ascend. straight into the void.

corruption kink (deeper, darker edition): younger sam wanted to corrupt you sweetly. older sam wants to ruin you. he loves the contrast. the way you look so soft, so sweet, and then sob his name with your face messy and your voice broken. it’s about ownership and power and control, but it’s also about trust. "no one’s ever gonna see you like this but me, baby. you’re mine. my pretty girl."

voyeurism kink (lowkey but lethal): YES. HE HAS THIS. it’s the control again, but subtler. sam loves watching you. watching you touch yourself just how he told you to (with permission). watching you squirm under his gaze when you're already wrecked but still trying to be good. watching your body give out because of him. it’s not just visual—it’s psychological dominance. it's: "don’t hide from me, sweetheart. want you to see what you look like when you fall apart for me."

exhibitionism kink (with a dangerous edge): this is where it gets even meaner. it’s not about public sex per se—it’s about the risk. he loves you getting embarrassed by the thought that someone might hear you. he’ll fuck you against a wall in a semi-public hallway in the bunker, hand over your mouth, whispering "shh, sweetheart. you don’t want dean to hear, do you?" while he keeps thrusting.

overstimulation kink (weaponised): bunker sam has no chill. you come once? cool. you come twice? cute. you come three, four, five times? perfect, he’s just getting started. he wants you mindless. crying. babbling his name. "come on, baby. one more. i know you got another one in you. be good f’me."

younger sam is accidental filth. he’s so desperate to be good, so determined to hold himself together, but the second you praise him or even look at him a little too sweetly? he’s fucking ruined. desperate, needy, a mess between your thighs. all floppy hair and trembling hands and whispered “please.”

older sam is intentional filth. controlled. calculating. slow and devastating. he doesn’t just want to make you come—he wants to own every single sound you make. wants to watch you fall apart because of him. wants to know that you trust him enough to let him absolutely destroy you and still crawl into his lap after, wrecked and smiling.

and the thing about sam winchester is that he’s not a boy anymore. he’s a man. an unapologetic, brutal, soft, possessive, hand-around-your-throat-but-kisses-your-forehead-after kind of man. the kind that makes you feel worshiped and ruined in the same breath. the kind you never recover from.

and honestly? thank god. am i right?

honourable mentions: @losers-clvb @xoswiftieprincess <3

[narcjsistx]

— THE TRUTH OF THE BASTARD GENIUS ᡣ𐭩

all the information here ; PART SIX

The next morning, with Tanzeku still asleep and a warning to be at least half an hour late to practice, you and Sae are sitting in front of the computer he's had at home for years but has probably used less than 10 times. You haven't even had breakfast because of the anxiety, while Sae is sipping his coffee as if it's a normal Friday morning, and he's not about to talk to a lawyer. You still don't know if suggesting it last night was a good choice, but after a crying fit thinking had become quite difficult. You sigh, sitting down next to him "Are you ready?" you ask, and he nods "Whenever you want"

The video call connects: on the previously black screen appears your friend Tiffany, sitting in her law office. You smile at her nervously, not yet convinced that you are making the right choice. Last night you suggested to Sae that he should consult a lawyer who is a friend of yours, who after explaining the situation could advise you on what to do and above all would keep the secret about Tanzeku. He accepted, even at the cost of paying her ten times more than you would pay a normal lawyer. Tiffany smiles, greeting you both "It was nice to hear you needed my help. How can I help you?" she says, and you see her grab a pen and a piece of paper to write on. You turn to Sae, who raises an eyebrow when he sees you "Do I have to explain?" he asks, perhaps annoyed, and you shake your head "No... I can do that" you say and start explaining, making Sae speak from time to time to make the situation more understandable from both points of view. You spend at least half an hour just explaining the situation which Tiffany writes down in her notebook, you often see her surprised by the revelations but honestly you would be too if you discovered something like that. After all the explanation Sae clears his throat "So? Do you have any suggestions?"

"Let me think for a minute..." Tiffany says, and you nod, remaining silent. Shortly after you see her clear her throat, looking at the notes she took during the explanation "I'm thinking about... a possible cover marriage. You get married, everyone thinks you're a couple and that Tanzeku is your son from before the wedding, who Sae hid for privacy with your relationship so as not to worsen your privacy. You keep the secret from his son, who at one year old won't remember that Y/n isn't really his mother, and if Sae eventually meets another woman who loves him, he will maintain an extramarital affair that, if he wants, will marry after divorcing you. The same path is the same for you. Both of you will be aware of the other's possible extra partner, and upon divorce Tanzeku will still have two parents who love him, he will simply see you divorce. Fake relationship, basically" explains the woman

You and Sae turned to each other at the same time. It was impossible not to be surprised by this possibility, but as the seconds passed, it seemed like the only real solution to the problem. It was absurd, but it made sense. You didn’t know if he was considering the option, but you were starting to do so even though your heart was still reeling from the proposal. You were young, Sae was too, and most importantly you didn’t love each other, it would have definitely ended in divorce… but Tanzeku would have known that you were his mother, and not someone who didn’t want him. Marriage would have meant nothing to either of you after all, just a cover until one of you found a partner. You hear Sae sigh, his grip on his cup of coffee a little tighter "What if… what if no one finds another partner?" he asks, and Tiffany scratches her chin "You’ll stay with Y/n, if that’s okay for both of you. You can divorce whenever you want and maybe tell Tanzeku the truth when he’s an adult too, if you want to" explains the woman

It's the only option, you know it well. Hearing Tiffany's words had shaken you a little, but marriage didn't sound like such a bad idea: you had been used to Sae's rhythms for almost a year, you already lived in his house and once married it wouldn't change much from how it was now. This was the only option for the fate of the kid who probably considered you his mother. You look up, determined "I want to do it" you say, and Sae turns, surprised "Do you want to? Are you sure?" he asks perplexed, but not offended by your determination, in fact maybe the opposite. You nod "If it's the only way to love that kid, I want to do it" you say seriously. You're so young, you still have your whole life ahead of you, but for Tanzeku you would do it even if he's not your son. You see the boy a little hesitant, but then he sighs, nodding "It's fine for me too. But he will never have to know the reality, only us and Tiffany" he says, and you almost smile hearing his words. You nod, contentedly "No one will ever know. Not even Tanzeku himself. None of us will ever talk, no matter what" you say, and he nods with you

It's a big choice, you know that perfectly well, but you're okay with it if it means knowing that Tanzeku is safe. The call ends a few minutes later, and before you can get up, Sae stops you by grabbing your wrist "Are you sure? Because I'm going to buy the ring" he says, and the words have a certain effect on you because you know that the ring is for you, and it's a wedding ring. You nod, taking his hand and squeezing it in yours "I have no second thoughts. I hope you don't either" you say, and he shakes his head "I have none, you know that when I make a decision it's final" he says, and you nod "Okay, Sae"

"But... let me be honest. I have to thank you, I don't even know why you're doing this, that child isn't yours and yet you're showing him more love than I could in my entire life. You're practically sacrificing your life, and that's not exactly what I wanted you to do for him and... and me" he says, and his sincerity almost moves you. You shake your head, trying to hold back the tears at his words, because you know Sae isn't the best at expressing himself "You don't have to thank me, I want to do it because I know it's right this way. We'll deal with the consequences later" you say, and he nods, actually seeming to have no second thoughts about this big step

An hour later a photo appears on his profile, a post among many about soccer: the photo of two hands intertwined with two wedding rings stands out among the other posts. The description, a simple "She said yes", sends the world of his entire fanbase and soccer crazy for so many hours

TAGLIST: @lincqx ; @irethepotato ; @nevvynev ; @vaelils ; @levihanmyotp ; @lil-lia12 ; @princesssae ; @chuurinnie ; @llearlert ; @medd2005 ; @captainshindo ; @inojinieeee ; @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee ; @rroxii ; @mwezieclipze ; @cellephone ; @simp-for-wanderer ; @beepbopzlorp ; @sugurus-star ; @chiizuyu ; @tenjikusstuff4 ; @syleepy ; @saeris-world ; @s4-mmy ; @itsssyagurll ; @ar1sc0rn3r ; @tsukimoon-chan ; @90s-belladonna ; @kiokos ; @appl3-0rchard ; @linsay0 ; @certifiedyapperrrr ; @werfiedeii ; @mariaelizabeh21-blog1 ; @ann242629 ; @vashyuu ; @pjofics ; @dontmindtheevie ; @otakusimp1 ; @n0tbelle ; @kaikaidenkai ; @palegardenrebel ; @bubybubsters ; @xiavbi ; @3ve88 ; @imas1mpp ; @luvsymai ; @the-original-skipps ; @bruisedchickensoup ; @bogearts ; @zemiiinnee ; @cafem3wcuryy ; @byzantiumhollow ; @r3yk ; @sabrina-senpai

[lesmiix]

headcanon of how hyunju would react to readers ex not leaving her alone? 🙏

HEADCANON: Ex.

Cho Hyun-ju x fem!reader.

Summary: You broke up with your ex a little over 2 years now, and he has never gave you any problems, but now that he knows you're dating someone, he's not leaving you alone Warnings: None. a/n: We love a jealous and protective girlfriend 😻

💜HYUN-JU REQUESTS ARE TEMPORARILY CLOSED!💜

At first you would try to hide from Hyun-ju that you're rcieving messages. Not because you didn't want her to know, but because you were afraid of her misunderstanding the situation.

And you thought your ex would give up at some point, but he didn't.

He bombared you with messages every single day, didn't matter how many times you asked him to stop. He insisted.

So, after a couple weeks, you went on a walk with your girlfriend, when you got another message.

Your eyebrows furrowed at frustration. When Hyun-ju asked you if everything was okay, you decided to tell her what has been happening for the last 2 weeks.

"He has been sending me messages for a while now, and it doesn't matter how many times I tel him to fuck off, he just keeps texting me. I even tried on blicking him, but he just keeps creating new accounts to try to keep in contact and he everytime I'm shopping or anything I always find him and tries talking to me... I don't know what else I can do anymore."

She undestands your frustration and she doesnt take it in a bad way at all. So she just nods and tells you that everything is gonna be alright, with a little kiss on your forehead.

If she ever sees a message before you, while you're showering, she'd answer him with a single, simple text.

"Hello, I'm y/n's girlfriend, and I assure you she wants to know absolutely nothing about you, so please leave her alone."

And block him afterwards, hoping he would give up.

Spoiler: He doesn't.

You'd find him next week while you were in the mall, with Hyun-ju, which he didn't expect.

He didn't see her right away, as she was waiting for you in a bench as you ordered both of you some bubble tea.

"I pay for it" You recognized the voice immediately. He approached you and paid for your order putting his hand on your hip.

He had the audacity to touch you and Hyun-ju's blood was boiling. She was up in a heartbeat.

You tried to pull away, stepping back as you tried to get rid of his contact. But he pulled you closer.

And that was all it took.

"Hey" The sound of her voice made him freeze. He was not expecting anyone, he was not expecting her. Not the tall woman (who was taller than him), with sharp eyes, arms crossed over her chest.

She didn't looke mad, but calm, which was in some way even worse.

"I’m only going to say this once. Leave her alone. If I hear from her that you’ve contacted her again, we’ll have a problem. And trust me, you don’t want to see what that looks like."

It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

Afterwards he would just look at her up and down, trying to act as if she didn't just destroy his whole ego. And left.

Your girl would be really soft to you after all that scene.

Of course she would remind you that none of that is your fault, that she's proud on how you dealed with things and that she's not gonna let anybody to mess up with you that way.

So, at the end, you'd just laugh while you enjoyed your free drinks.

[souliebird]

Okay. So.

I keep trying to write this and it's not clicking so. Let's do this as a My brain literally rambling with minor grammar edits. Let's go. ((I'm 🍃))

Hero!Dex!drabble time bby

Dex lives across the hall. You run into each other some times. Small polite neighbor talk if it's relevant. You don't know each other names.

The idea is you are the daughter of an Irish gang boss, with your brother being a high ranking member. You've newly run away from the family and are hiding in Hell's Kitchen. Shady apartment building, cash rent, no names.

Until Bullseye comes back from a rough Daredevil fight at the same moment as you. And you know exactly who Bullseye is.

But instead of panicking, you just go, "Oh shit, hold on, I have field medic training. Do you have a kit?"

And he's just like "Huh? Yes. Okay".

And Dex let's you in. You patch him up without asking anything while Dex tries to not panic.

Then you just tell him to wait a moment and he is like "Okay." Because he knows you know. He should kill you, but you're being nice to him.

He wants to Trust.

And you come back really quick with some left overs being like "Look here, eat this. It's got lots of protein and carbs, you'll need it. Just pop it in the microwave for five minutes, it'll be good. That bowl is microwave safe."

And Dex is just like. "okay. Yes." He likes that you're not asking questions because questions means he'd have to kill you

You're just helping him. A good person.

You leave after that.

Then you pretend it's back to normal but Dex is Dex.

But he's sure to keep his distance this time.

Time passes.

Dex wakes up to banging from across the hall. Early morning. Your door is open. He goes inside. Two men are assaulting you - you're pinned with a knife in your hand, clearly mid-fight with one guy while the other watches.

Dex does not think.

You crawl towards him. He grabs you, takes you back to his apartment, you do not fight him. He starts demanding answers.

You tell him everything.

They were looking for your brother. You haven't seen him in years, even before you left. He's turned into a state's witness and your dad thinks you'd know where he'd hide.

He's right but you'd never tell him that.

Dex looks at you very clearly. Right in the eye and Bullseye asks.

"Does he know anything incriminating about you?"

"Yes."

"Would you go to jail?"

"Yes."

"Do you want your father dead for sending his men after you?"

Pause.

"Yes."

"Okay."

He takes you to a hotel four hours away. He lets you block the doors with furniture. You cried in the car and are just tired now. He waits until you fall asleep. He leaves a note.

You wake up and panic and bit, but the note helps. He tells you he'll be back and you want to Trust that.

He saved you. He wouldn't bring you all this way to kill you. He's Bullseye. You saw him in his weird little Villain costume. He kills people in public like all the time no problem.

He's going to kill your family. He's going to set you free.

He's going to cause So Much Fucking Chaos in the underbelly of the city. It might vibrate all the way back to Cork.

That makes you kind of giddy because they all deserve it. All of them, especially your brother.

But you kinda deserve it, too.

You never hurt anyone. You've never threatened. You don't want to. You were happy to play the naive one because it meant one less criminal. But you know everything. You couldn't stop it.

Your cousin's ex-wife was a mole in the FBI. You'd be dead before you could find a lawyer.

You could very easily pretend to be dead now, though.

It's something to think about when you aren't panicking.

You hate being alone. You are terrified of someone busting in. You sit and watch bad cable for hours bc it's the only way to stay sane.

You don't sleep and you chug bad motel coffee.

Dex comes back after ten hours.

"If I don't tell you anything, you can't use it against me later."

You get it.

"Are you hurt?"

You patch him up with what's in the bathroom.

He bought clothes and supplies on his way back. He insists you go shower first. He doesn't ask why you didn't shower before.

You once again panic at being alone.

He comes in and you end up in the shower together. You keep to yourselves, backs turned. You only talk when he asks if you are finished - he has to move around you to get out.

You are.

You dress . He brought cheap ready to eat food. You both eat that while watching bad cable. You both comment on it and joke.

You still don't know his name.

He lets you push the second bed against the door. You sleep in the same bed, with you closer to the wall. Your head is on his chest.

"Thank you for saving me."

He doesn't reply.

You sleep.

He watches you all night.

And scene.

[howlingday]

Ever since I was young, I always had lots of friends. But Jaune wasn't just a friend.

Pyrrha: (Pokes Grimm)

Jaune: Hm?

Grimm: (Wakes up, Roars)

Jaune/Pyrrha: (Run away screaming)

He was my BEST friend.

Pyrrha/Jaune: (Triumphant over Grimm)

Pyrrha: Hey, Jaune! Summer just started, so what do you want to do tomorrow?

Jaune: I'm sorry, Pyrrha... I can't play with you tomorrow.

Pyrrha: O-Oh... Th-That's okay! Then how about-

Jaune: I can't play with you anymore. EVER AGAIN.

Pyrrha: Huh...? Jaune? Wha... What do you mean?!

Jaune: We're no longer best friends, Pyrrha. Because...

Jaune: (Surrounded by beautiful Grimm) I've found some new best friends to play with~.

MY GRIMM-KIN STEPSISTER WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE

Part III (Part I / Part II)

Pyrrha: (Jolts upright) AAAAAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah... Ah... It was just a dream...

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

Mama Nikos: Good morning, Pyrrha~! Were you screaming again?

Pyrrha: I'm fine, Mom...

Mama Nikos: Another nightmare?

Mama Nikos: Oh no... Did you have another CUCK DREAM?

Pyrrha: I SAID I'M FINE, MOM! I'M LEAVING NOW, BYE!

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

Jaune invited me over to his new house.

Jaune: (Waves) Hey. Thanks for coming. There was something important I wanted to discuss with you.

Pyrrha: Something important?

Jaune: I wanted to discuss our future.

Pyrrha: Y-You mean... (Gulps, Doki~!) Uh...

Jaune: The future of our adventuring party, since we now have four members. Everyone else is already here.

Cinder: Dwarf, those ash-chips are mine! He made them for ME!

Nora: (Munching on ash-chips) Hey, Jaune! These are pretty good! You sure they're toxic?

Pyrrha: ...Uh-huh...

Yeah... I should've expected as much.

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

Jaune: Cinder will be our scout. This should help with traps and ambushes.

Cinder: (Leans on him)

Jaune: Going deeper means more resources we can gather, and more lien, but also more danger. I wanted to check with everyone to decide our risk margins. If you have anything to say, please say it now.

Nora: I NEED TO GO DEEPER BECAUSE I'M BROKE! I'm two months behind on rent, ya know!

Jaune: Well, Nora, have you considered not drinking, whoring, and gambling?

Nora: WHAT?! What does that have to do with paying my rent?!

Jaune: Honestly, I want to go deeper, but I feel like we need someone with more range before heading to rank 5 areas. Rank 4 should be fine, even with our current group. What do you think, Cinder?

Cinder: W-Well... I've never been on a mission before, so... I'm a little scared~. But... I think I can do it if I'm with you, Jaune~!

Jaune: Don't you worry, Cinder. I promise I'll protect you.

Cinder: Thanks, Step-Bro~! Hee hee~!

...? WOT

Jaune: What about you, Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: Uh... What's going on with you and your "sister"? You two seem a little... close.

Jaune: Hm? Oh, I see what you mean. (Scritches Cinder's head) I screwed up and made Cinder really sick. It turns out that Grimm-Kin are actually really fragile, so I've been a little overprotective of her ever since. (Stands) That reminds me; Cinder, if we're going to get new gear for you, we should grab some sun block. I'll go get the cream.

Cinder: (Smiling smugly at Pyrrha)

Pyrrha: ...

Cinder: (Opens mouth, Pumps hands)

Pyrrha: (Biting her lip, Veins bulging)

Nora: You okay?

Cinder: (Cackling)

Pyrrha: JAUNE! CINDER AND I ARE GOING OUT BACK! WE NEED TO TALK! RIGHT NOW!

Jaune: Talk? Now? About what?

Pyrrha: STUFF! GIRLY STUFF! BOYS CAN'T LISTEN! DON'T COME NEAR THE DOOR!

Jaune: Uh... Okay?

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

Pyrrha: WHAT! IS! YOUR! PROBLEM?! What are you trying to pull on Jaune?!

Cinder: I dunno, PEE-WAA~! What's YOUR problem? I'm just trying to be sociable with my brother~.

Pyrrha: "Sociable"?! Cut the bullshit! You're trying to SEDUCE him! Jaune might be too nice to complain, but as his best friend, I'm not going to let you screw with his vows as a paladin!

Cinder: Or maybe YOU should cut the bullshit! "As his best friend"? Really?

Cinder: It's painfully obvious that you're in love with him.

Pyrrha: !!!

Cinder: What? Did you think I was too stupid to notice?

Pyrrha: I... UM... THAT'S... UH...

Cinder: Oh no... You actually thought you were hiding it. Adorable. No wonder he likes you.

Pyrrha: OKAY! FINE! I like Jaune! As more than a friend! So what?!

Cinder: So let's set the record straight. Just between us girls.

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

Jaune: ...It's been a while. I wonder what they're talking about.

Nora: (Chewing) HA! I bet they're blabbering on about LADY stuff! Like, uh... Um... CAKE! Oh! And period cramps! Definitely talking about those!

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

Pyrrha: Look, this isn't even about me! I want you to stay away from Jaune for HIS sake! Don't you get it?! Jaune's dad screwed him up so bad, he's basically built his entire life around not having sex!

Pyrrha: He can't handle a quasi-incestual relationship with his step-sister!

Cinder: Hm... You might be right, Pyrrha... BUT. That's for JAUNE to decide. NOT YOU.

Cinder: And what are you, anyways, Pyrrha? You certainly carved a nice spot for yourself with him. Jaune told me all about you. How he trusted you as a friend.

Cinder: So how many other girls did you turn away like this? Hovering around so you could keep him all to yourself?

Pyrrha: I... Ah...

Cinder: If I asked Jaune right now, who do you think he would choose? Me, or you?

Pyrrha: ...

Hey, Jaune~! Hey, Pyrrha~! You're my best friend, Pyrrha~! Best friends forever, right~? Thanks, Pyrrha. I'm so glad to have you as my BEST FRIEND.

Pyrrha: I....

Cinder: (Breathing in Pyrrha's ear) I think he would choose you~... PYRRHA~...

Pyrrha: GAAAH~!

Cinder: AHAHAHAHAHAHA~!

Pyrrha: What the hell?!

Cinder: I'm not delusional. I know Jaune doesn't see me as a romantic partner right now. He probably sees me more as some kind of exotic house cat... Don't you get it?

Cinder: I'M JEALOUS OF YOU.

Pyrrha: You're jealous... of me?

Cinder: You asked me what I was up to? Well, I'll tell you right now: I'm going to make Jaune love me. I'm going to be so close to Jaune, our relationship could be classified as parasitic, all while I sink my claws deeper and deeper into him. I'm going to be with him every day until he takes his Grimm sister for granted.

Cinder: Then he'll realize I'm only his STEP sister. That he can have the Grimm-Kin sleeping next to him whenever he wants. He's going to see that the perfect woman for him was already there, all along~.

Pyrrha: ...

Cinder: I'm going to take your place, Pyrrha. Now, what are YOU going to do about it~?

Pyrrha: ...

Cinder: Maybe I should feel threatened by you? You do have a head start, after all... BUT I DON'T. And why should I?

Cinder: YOU'VE BEEN WITH JAUNE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE, AND YOU CAN'T EVEN TELL HIM HOW YOU FEEL.

Cinder: (Walks inside) Your move.

Pyrrha: ...

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

Jaune: ...Nora, please stop eating all the ash-chips. I made those for Cinder.

Nora: HA HA~! I like how spicy they make my throat feel~!

Jaune: Yeah, that would be the poison.

[avaawritess]

Things I wish you said to me

Inspired by Sabrina Carpenters song things i wish you said about me.

Angst,no happy ending.🙂 Bakugo Katsuki

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

He was very hard headed, never once faltered in his conversations, he was known to be serious.

I guess you thought that you could change him once you started to date him. At first, it was like he was a changed man.

It was like that, until the night he cried in front of you when you held him against your chest. Your steady heartbeat helping him calm down. He didn't speak much to you after that.

Maybe it was because he felt weak,vulnerable, he hated feeling that way.So naturally he pushed himself away.

Soon you guys needed to talk, which he hated being wrong.

"Well I'm trying my best obviously I spend my time with you and get you gifts like ? What more do you want ?!" he said in a frustrated tone,"I need words Kat I need you to talk to me...yeah sometimes actions speak louder than words...but I need words,"you said your tone breaking.

He scoffed, "you're so needy..you know I'm not talkative...what would you even want me to say huh" he glared closing you off.

"Things like, Darling I hope you know you scared me to death,when I got into that accident" you say growing more desperate. "Or just like genuinely care about me but to don't" you say.

"Fine, if I don't care as much as you say then let's break this off you're so unappreciative" he said before storming away.

That night your heart broke, you saw him everywhere and was reminded of him.From the passenger seat he rode in when you drove, or even when he'd order black coffee just to throw it away because he said it tasted fucking disgusting.

God, you missed all of him even his cussing problem, and his temperamental issues.

Your heart broke more at the sigh of another girl growing close to him. He was never that way with you...he smiled? He never smiled with you.

You couldn't even stomach the thought of him laughing at another girls jokes. That was the only time you ever saw him with his toothy grin.

Now it's not yours anymore.

Never was, never will be yours.

In the end, he was never yours to begin with.

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

So thanks for reading, I just randomly got an idea to write when my playlist was on shuffle🙂. Have a good Easter 🐣

[beewildered]

“I feel like "birth giver" and "people who have breasts"...are creepy as hell” It's just a phrase. Like I'm putting you up there with the people who are scared of the word moist. It's a bunch of words for the sake of inclusivity, it is completely harmless.

“All women have breasts” Some women get them surgically removed. Some women are born without breasts at all (amastia). Some women don't have breasts until they start taking oestrogen.

“Men have breasts too...should we call them "breast havers" too?” If it's a significant amount of breast tissue, like if they have gynaecomastia or if they're transgender, then yes they are included under "breast havers". That's kind of why we started using it in the first place, because "women" wouldn't include them.

“not every woman has periods or gives birth, yes, but only women do those things.” Trans men can do those things, non-binary people can do those things, intersex people can do those things.

“no Y chromosome to be seen” There could be, though. In fact, I'd actually put money on it that there's several transgender men somewhere who have XY, or transgender women with XX. Chromosomes are a lot more varied than you think, and the reason they stopped doing chromosome testing at the Olympics was because so many women showed XY chromosomes (about 1-2 every game, but at the time these tests ran women weren't even making up a ¼ of Olympic participants, so that's quite a significant number). We've no idea the amount of men with XX chromosomes because they didn't care to test them as it wouldn't give them an advantage (XY also gives no one an advantage, but that's another conversation). Trans men and non-binary people aren't women, and if we're going by chromosomes, neither are plenty of women! About 1 in 15,000 women have XY, and others could have XXY, XO, XXX, or other variations of chromosomes which makes even more women non-XX. So maybe that's not reliable for deciding who's a woman or who isn't.

“when people are just referring to women as "period havers" or "birth givers" outside of a medical context it's super weird” But they aren't talking about women. They're talking about everyone who has periods or everyone who has given birth and that doesn't include all women nor does it include only women. This is why we use those terms instead of just saying "women".

“you can say woman, I promise you” We do! Just not in contexts that don't strictly involve women. Like talking about periods or pregnancy.

“it's common sense that most women have periods.” Is it? Because there's a lot of women who don't. As you've already specified, anyone who's out of the ≈13–50 age range likely won't have a period, and anyone who's had a hysterectomy won't have a period. But there are plenty more women who can't have periods (all of these are long-term, but not necessarily permanent):

Anyone who's pregnant

Anyone who doesn't bleed due to their natural hormones levels

Many people on HRT, the coil, etc.

Many people who have lost or gained an extreme amount of weight (think EDs, restrictive diets)

Many people with chronic stress won't bleed

Many people who over-exercise, like professional athletes, won't bleed

Many people with dysfunctional ovaries or similar genetic problems won't bleed

Some women with heart disease won't bleed

Now, the odds of none of these overlapping are basically none, but that is still a lot of women. Certainly enough that saying "women" when you mean "people who have periods" is just objectively wrong. The only goal here is for people to say what they really mean, and if you are referring to people who have periods, just say that, because "women" does not cover it.

“I'm well aware [that I'm a hypocrite] and could not care less” It's kind of fucked that you're so willing to admit that you don't want to change despite knowing there are things you should change. Like I know you probably said it as a joke but it's actually so depressing that you could be a much better person but you just don't care enough.

LMFAOOOOOOOOO