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deadsetobsessions · 12 hours

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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.

#Danny: not another adoption!#Vlad and Bruce trying to adopt Danny even though he’s got parents:🤝#batman #danny phantom #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc x dp #bamf danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #dcxdp crossover #sea cryptic! danny au

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renthony · 18 hours

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In Defense of Shitty Queer Art

Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.

So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?

Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”

Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.

After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.

When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.

But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.

If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.

Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.

It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.

Like this essay? Tip me on Ko-Fi, pledge to my Patreon, or commission an essay on the topic of your choice!

#original essays #original post #media studies #queer history #queer media #queer issues #fandom issues

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nellasbookplanet · 1 day

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In the wake of FCG' fate I've been thinking about death in ttrpgs, and how it kind of exists on three levels:

There’s the gameplay level, where it only makes sense for a combat-heavy, pc-based game to have a tool for resurrection because the characters are going to die a lot and players get attached to them and their plotlines.

Then there’s the narrative level, where you sort of need permanent death on occasion so as not to lose all tension and realism. On this level, sometimes the player will let their character remain dead because they find it more interesting despite there being options of resurrection, or maybe the dice simply won’t allow the resurrection to succeed.

Then, of course, there’s the in-universe level, which is the one that really twists my mind. This is a world where actual resurrection of the actual dead is entirely obtainable, often without any ill effects (I mean, they'll be traumatized, but unless you ask a necromancer to do the resurrection they won’t come back as a zombie or vampire or otherwise wrong). It’s so normal that many adventurers will have gone through it multiple times. Like, imagine actually living in a world where all that keeps you from getting a missing loved one back is the funds to buy a diamond and hire a cleric. As viewers we felt that of course Pike should bring Laudna, a complete stranger, back when asked, but how often does she get this question? How many parents have come and begged her to return their child to them? How many lovers lost but still within reach? When and how does she decide who she saves and who she doesn’t?

From this perspective, I feel like every other adventurer should have the motive/backstory of 'I lost a loved one and am working to obtain the level of power/wealth to get them back'. But of course this is a game, and resurrection is just a game mechanic meant to be practically useful.

Anyway. A story-based actual play kind of has to find a way to balance these three levels. From a narrative perspective letting FCG remain dead makes sense, respects their sacrifice, and ends their arc on a highlight. From a gameplay level it is possible to bring them back but a lot more complicated than a simple revivify. But on an in-universe level, when do you decide if you should let someone remain dead or not? Is the party selfish if they don’t choose to pursue his resurrection the way they did for Laudna? Do they even know, as characters, that it’s technically possible to save someone who's been blown to smithereens? Back in campaign 2, the moment the m9 gained access to higher level resurrection they went to get Molly back (and only failed because his body had been taken back by Lucien). At the end of c1, half the party were in denial about Vax and still looking for ways to save him, because they had always been able to before (and had the game continued longer it wouldn’t have surprised me had they found a way). Deanna was brought back decades after her death (and was kind of fucked up because of it). Bringing someone back could be saving them, showing them just how loved and appreciated they are. Or it could be saving you, forcing someone back from rest and peace into a world that's kept moving without them because you can’t handle the guilt of knowing you let them stay gone when you didn’t have to. How do you know? How would you ever know?

#cr spoilers #sometimes i think about how oryms backstory has it baked in that will was magically impossible to bring back #while yasha was simply not powerful enough in either magic or connections to bring zuala back #and by the time she was years had gone by and yasha had moved on and bringing zuala back would've been cruel and selfish #similar to how deanna was brought back but now she was left behind and alone #speaking of could you ever truly move on from grief in a world like that?#how do you accept the inevitability of death when it isn’t necessarily permanent?#no wonder delilah and sylas went evil to keep each other alive #no wonder laerryn accidentally caused the calamity in trying to break through the planes #the hubris of a world like this would be UNREAL #as would the bitter feelings from everyone who knows this power exists but can’t access it bc they’re like. a farmer #critical role #long post #nella talks cr #cr3 spoilers

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 2 days

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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter.

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway.

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence.

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan.

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life.

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together.

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you.

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes.

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk.

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop.

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in.

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.”

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.”

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day.

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually.

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid.

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did.

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.”

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner.

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way.

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude.

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.”

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?”

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked.

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.”

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?”

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his.

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.”

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of.

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked.

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked.

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.”

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot.

God, you were down bad.

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face.

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed.

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded.

That was all you needed to hear.

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible.

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little.

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting.

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual.

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken.

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.”

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?”

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger.

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.”

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm.

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed.

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece.

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice.

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!”

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his.

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive.

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless.

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!baureader

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heartfullofleeches · 3 days

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Jasper is a menace. Carries around syringes full of their venom to use on its victims who dare get in the way of their happy ending with Bunny Darling. They can't go around biting people out in the open, but they also can't use the needles too often or suspension from police might spread over to their local. (I imagine Jasper lives a few cities/states away from Bunny Darling just far to where if someone in Darling's town died due snake venom eyes wouldn't immediately be on them.)

Jasper nearly kidnapped Bunny Darling while they were at a convention in their city, but at the last second they noticed the milky yellow color of the liquid and realized the sedative they had planned to use was actually one of their other needles. It cried like a bitch for almost poisoning their darling for weeks.

#Jasper my oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere hybrid

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sc0tters · 3 days

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Muffin Baskets and Frozen Meals | Jack Hughes

summary: when telling Jack how you felt actually went well.

paring: Jack Hughes x Devils Media Member!

request: yes/no

warnings: none?

word count: 1.89k

authors note: planned for this to be a quick blurb and then it became this. will say that I do love it and I was definitely needing more of this soft man like this today 🥺 did something different with parts of it so I’m not sure if it will land but I look forward to how you guys like soft Jack!

You felt like you were going to throw up.

Jack hadn’t been at practice for the last few days after he went to get surgery on his shoulder “you know he likes you right?” Luke smiled as he had gotten close to you in your opening season with the team.

It made you shake your head as you jumped “I don’t like him.” Your cheeks turned a crimson shade of red as the younger boy laughed in response.

The boys all spent the season watching your crush on Jack develop, it was hard not to when you would be left with a grin each time he approached you. But they didn’t notice your side of the crush first as they were far more focused on Jack’s new desire to apart oof everything that the media team needed extra players for.

The first time they noticed it was when you guys had to do the passing the phone trend. One player was needed at the end to say a line about passing the phone to the fans yet none of the girls wanted to ask the players “should I be offended that you haven’t asked me to be in the video peach?” Jack let his lips curve upright as he watched you look up from your iPad.

You tucked your hair behind your ears as you smiled “wanted to save the best role for you.” You explained making his smile grow wider into a toothy grin.

He started calling you peach after the first day when you bumped into him with a bag of sour peach rings in your hand and since that moment you were his peach and he was bringing you a new bag of candy each week “really?” He cocked his head watching her nod eagerly.

The boy naturally agreed and the team watched you pull him with ease to a quieter area of the practice facility “so do we think that he has had a change of heart or that he just thinks that the new girl is hot?” Curtis was the first to speak up from the group that watched the interaction go down.

Judging by the way your hand interlocked with his, Dawson swore that something clearly happened between you and the Hughes boy before “how do we know she doesn’t have a crush on him too?” He shot back causing a chorus of ahh’s to come from around him as the boys began to agree.

Nico just rolled his eyes “next one to talk about either of their love lives is getting extra laps.” As the words left the captains mouth it seemed like the gathering dispersed leaving Luke to awkwardly look up at the captain “I didn’t say a thing!” He whined as the Swiss man pointed to the door leading to the ice.

Jack swore he was slick in masking his crush on you. Sure he offered to do whatever you needed in the form of social media content, something he never did for anyone else. But maybe he was just trying to be your friend.

The all star game had arrived and given that you were in good books with both Jesper and Jack. The team opted to send you with. This was the first time that the fans finally drew the connection. Because after weeks of trying to figure out who was so special on the social media team.

But then they finally got to see the fan clips of you and Jack making fun of Jesper and it was like the puzzle pieces connected for everyone. All of a sudden fans were finding you and just like Jack, you had flurry of people who liked you “someone’s popular.” Jack teased hearing your phone go off again.

It made you send him a glare as you wanted to kick his shin “you jealous Hughes?” You quipped back letting your teeth catch at your lip.

He laughed as he shook his head “the attention they give you is nothing like what you get from me.” Jack pointed out with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

Both of those memories replayed in your mind as you swore the boys were lying to you. It made you conflicted as to what you were meant to write in Jacks get well soon card as it was the final practice of the season and you were going to give the stuff to Luke to give to his brother.

Your tongue darted out of your mouth as you tried to think of how to start the card “now I’m no genius but most people usually start a card with dear and then the persons name.” Nico pointed out as he looked over the wall of your office cubicle.

His words made you jump as your head shot up “wondered how long it would take for you to see me.” He teased making you roll your eyes “nice to see you too Nico.” You mumbled watching him sit in the seat in front of you.

The captain pulled out a set of keys and before you could ask what was going on he handed you one of them “this is for his place.” Nico explained making your eyes go wide “I am not breaking in!” You shook your head not impressed that he offered.

He shrugged as he leaned back in his seat “technically it’s not breaking in if I said you could go.” Luke’s head popped out from the wall next making you his your face in your hand “how many of you are there?” You were scared to know the answer.

So instead you got to see just how many boys there were as Curtis, John, Timo and Dawson all smiled at you “please go put us out of our misery and tell each other how you feel!” Timo begged making the boys nod in agreement.

Your cheeks turned red as you went to complain “and don’t tell me you don’t like him again because the only person who can’t see it anymore is him.” Nico placed his hand on your knee as he took the card from you “you can give these to him in person so you don’t need this.” He explained as you got up.

It made the boys want to let out a silent cheer “now if he turns me down I will kill you all.” You warned making them salute you off as they knew it wasn’t the case “just to be clear we are all changing our locks now if she knows he has keys?” Dawson trailed off with a gulp.

“Definitely.”

Jack was scrolling through the tv bored out of his mind as he heard the knock at the door “who is it?” He called out muting the sound “peaches!” You called feeling weird hearing your own name be brought up in a conversation with him.

The Hughes boy practically jumped off of the couch “hey.” Jack smiled as he opened the door.

It gave you the rare glance you adored to look at his chest “what are you doing here?” He added as he cocked his head.

You felt like your mouth ran dry “came to give you these.” You explained holding up the muffin basket for him to see.

He nodded motioning for you to come in “and I wanted to check on you.” Your words made both of your tender hearts swell with joy “real sweet of ya peach.” The hockey player was beyond curious to see what you let into your basket.

But suddenly he stopped as he headed for his kitchen “was gonna make Luke give you these.” Jack explained as he handed you a bag of peach rings.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

The words came from both of you at the same time “you should go first.” Jack announced giving you the floor to talk.

It made you want to glare at him “I like you a lot.” Your words sounded really weird “like a lot more than I should as someone who works for the devils.” You added making his facial expressions soften.

But as you heard pure silence you thought the worst “god I made this so bad have I?” As panic settled into your system the boy shook his head.

Jack smiled as he pointed to the bag of peach rings. It made you look down all confused until you saw that the bag had I LIKE YOU printed on the front of it “Jack you better not fuck with me.” You warned as you shook your head.

It made him roll his eyes “trust me for that price I am not.” His words were soft as he walked over to you.

The gap between you both quickly began nothing as you looked up at him “so what do you say about staying over for a bit?” He asked cupping your cheek “we can order pizza and watch a movie.” Jack offered as you leaned forward to kiss him instead.

It was a delicate kiss as if you were too afraid that if any passion slipped into it you’d both end up waking from this perfect dream. So instead you both basked in the beauty that came from knowing how his lips left against yours.

Jack could taste your cherry lipgloss on his tongue as he looked at you “are we sure we want pizza?” You asked letting your fingers run up his chest.

His good arm wrapped around your waist “because I have been told I make a mean frozen lasagna.” You announced with such cheek that it made him laugh as a smile spread on your face.

The boy looked at his kitchen “well then I think it’s good we have everything accept the lasagna.” Jack pointed out letting his forehead rest against yours as you both inhaled wanting to not let the moment ever end.

You pretended to think about it for a second “last time I checked you had a brother who was out still.” Your words made his eyes grow wide “I love you.” Jack confessed as he kissed your lips once more before he reached for his phone.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t heard him because you did, but for the first time you weren’t running away from love as that night as he lay resting against your stomach you’d tell him the same three words back. And that was how, the perfect love story -as Nico calls it when he tells your kids the story of the team got you two together.- came to be known.

If someone told you that the meal that would get you into your future husband’s dreams was going to be a frozen lasagna. They would have been wrong. Jack was so in love with you that you could have served up burnt ramen and he would have eaten it.

Life for the two of you finally blossomed together on that day as two paths merged into one. A story that no longer had all these different endings, where you were with different people.

Jack was your person and you were his. So even know after all of the things you have been through in family and in hockey, you did it together.

With the help of your frozen lasagna.

#jack Hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack Hughes imagines #jack Hughes Oneshots #nhl oneshots #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey oneshots #amber writes fics #jack hughes imagine

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thinkingaboutjaedyn · 2 days

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Jenni hc pt3 please 💗💗

jenni as your wife would be like..

author notes: jenni officially upgraded from your gf to your wife 💗 enjoy it babes!

➜ jenni is a complete mess at the wedding. she couldn't follow the tradition of not seeing the bride before walking down the aisle (her defense was that your wedding wasn't even traditional in the first place since it's gay). she just had to see you, have a moment to yourselves where no one else was around so she could just spill her heart out. she did cry and almost ruined her makeup, but it got fixed right before the actual ceremony.

➜ super handsy at the wedding especially after getting drunk. she's just so happy you're her wife

➜ y'all's honeymoon is in italy for nearly two weeks. jenni tried to research places to go, but was too lazy to so y'all just ventured the city jenni decided to bring you to. learning about really gorgeous sights along the way. she forced you to wear sorta matching outfits the whole time.

➜ gets ten times clinger. she just wants to always be around you and can't deal with being away from you for more than a month before she starts getting all sad. texts you everyday y'all are apart and you have to facetime her every night or you just don't love her

➜ you're banned from calling her jenni now. it's either baby or babe or my love or anything but her name. she thinks you're mad at her everytime jenni even leaves your mouth

➜ brags about you all the time to anyone who will listen and is high-key cocky about it. she thinks you're such a catch. always saying things like "my wife got this new dress, she looks so gorgeous in it, want to see?" or "she's so perfect, no?" while holding up a photo of you on her phone

➜ jenni becomes even more protective. even media training won't stop her from defending you if someone gets out of line online or even in person

➜ gets baby fever nearly right away after the wedding. if you have little siblings or nieces/nephews, it makes it even worse. she always hinting at the fact she wants a lil mix of her & you running around

➜ still annoying as hell and quite childish. actually it got worse. makes inappropriate jokes at the worse moments, pushing you for no reason, holding things up out of your reach if you're shorter than her, and way more. jenni may be 33 but she's a big baby around you

➜ buys matching gold bracelets for the both of you. one that has her initials in it and the other has your initials in it. she never takes this bracelet off once she gets it, taping it up during games.

➜ all of her celebrations are you-centered. even when it doesn't seem like it. jenni could be just throwing up a simple heart, but just know it's 100% for you

➜ becomes so determined to be your mother's favorite daughter-in-law. she needs that sweet motherly validation.

➜ those jealousy issues of hers get worse. you know the tiktok audio that's like "yeah she's great and all, but how long is she going to be talking to my wife?" yeah that's jenni. she just can't help herself, she wants you to herself

➜ jenni tells you all the time how she's so in love with you and how perfect you are and that she can't live without you which is true. jenni is head over heels for you

#jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff

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uncanny-tranny · 2 days

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People who compare transition to self harm or use real people they know who've self-harmed as a metaphorical comparison to transitioning aren't making the gotcha they think they're making - they're just showing that they don't have the compassion or maturity to engage with either topic at even a conversational level.

And, frankly, it's infuriating as a person who does see those who self-harm as my equal who doesn't need to be used as a cudgel against another group of often vulnerable people.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #self harm tw #self harm mention tw #sh tw #transphobia #transphobia tw #and as someone who has self-harmed AND transitioned it's been inherently different. it's not a comparison #and if you wonder why so many trans people have engaged in self harm: social factors. family. abuse. mistreatment #mine stemmed from unrelated abuse largely and also because i wasn't being treated well #absolutely unresolved dysphoria in trans people can inspire that - i know that already. ask me how (don't)...#...but it also isn't inherent to identifying as trans. dysphoria of any kind can make people desperate for any escape...#...and you help them by allowing them space and giving them tools that empower *them*...#...like for me the second a huge part of my dysphoria resolved through transition i was able to start actually fucking LIVING #because for all my life i'd been only able to operate at 50% at most. and now it's more like 80-90% just after transition

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makingqueerhistory · 18 hours

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can I just say. I grew up in Trinidad. I miss the trans women :( it's changed. I wish they'd remember.

For those just looking in, this is a reference to a book I just read called Going to Trinidad, which is nonfiction with the summary:

"For more than four decades, between 1969 and 2010, the remote former mining town of Trinidad, Colorado was the unlikely crossroads for approximately six thousand medical pilgrims who came looking for relief from the pain of gender dysphoria. The surgical skill and nonjudgmental compassion of surgeons Stanley Biber and his transgender protege Marci Bowers not only made the phrase “Going to Trinidad” a euphemism for gender confirmation surgery in the worldwide transgender community, but also turned the small outpost near the New Mexico border into what The New York Times once called “the sex-change capital of the world.”"

The book explores the realities of this, as well as some of the patients who had varying experiences with earlier iterations of gender confirmation surgery and the medical system around that. One of the things it talks about is the erasure of this history, and I can definitely understand how that would feel for someone who actually lived through the transition. One of the reasons queer history is so vital to share is because of things like this, if the town had its way, it might have disappeared from the collective memory.

#answered #queer history #queer #transgender history

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creatureheart · 3 days

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I've made a few posts talking about things in the nonhuman and alterhuman communities recently, mostly just brief looks into them, so I thought I would share this one.

The info may not be all that much, and could easily be expanded upon, but I did my best for a simple bit of info for certain things.

All pictures have ALT text included, but I shall post the text also here, under a cut, cause it's a bit long, lol

Nonhuman as an identity: To identify as not human either fully or partially. (hate/trolls will be reported and deleted)

Reminder: These are all personal identities and why someone identifies as nonhuman and what term someone decides to use for themself is exclusively their business. In the end it is what makes the most sense to the individual and not up to others. Now, onto some of the communities that are included under the nonhuman identity:

Otherkin: from the term "otherkind" - an identity which typically encompasses being wholly or partially a nonhuman entity. Usually understood to cover those who identify as mythical creatures and other fantastical things. Also covers those that fall outside of beings and creatures.

Examples of non-being or creature based identities: Conceptkin: an identity where one identifies as a concept such as the concept of night or fire. Objectkin: and identity where one identifies as an object. Songkin: an identity where one identifies as a song.

Examples of being and creature based identities: Therianthropy: usually shortened to therian - where one identifies AS a nonhuman animal. Some will say that this term refers to only earthen animals, living or extinct, but it has never only encompassed earthly animals. The community's language came from those who identify as werecreatures. Theriomythic: an alternate identity term for one who identifies in some intrinsic was as a mythical creature. Paleotherian: an identity term for one who identifies as a now extinct earthly animal, like a dinosaur or mammoth.

Cladotherian or Cladokin: an identity term for one who does not identify as a distinct species, but a broader identity encompassing an entire genus or larger grouping. Cladomythic: an identity term for one who identifies as a group (clade) of animalistic mythical creatures.

Fictionkin: an identity term that covers all things fictional. For those who identify as something fictional like characters, animals, species, objects, etc. These can be from books, shows, video games, etc, but not always! Original fictional characters and such are also possible.

There are many other identities that fall under the nonhuman umbrella which is why it's important to do your own research to figure out if a certain term works for you. All these identities share the trait of being involuntary. You cannot choose to be therian, otherkin, or the other mentioned identities.

While the already mentioned identities are involuntary, there are some identities that fall under being voluntary. Otherlink: an identity where one voluntarily identifies as nonhuman. Copinglink: an identity where one voluntarily identifies as nonhuman to copes with things such as trauma, stress, etc.

A lot of people may also say that it is impossible to become a therian, otherkin, etc. While the identity is involuntary, things like trauma and neurodivergence can cause an individual to take on a nonhuman identity when they had not had one previously.

Most will usually see people explain that these identities are spiritual or psychological, but these are only some of the ways that individuals may experience them. Some other experiences of nonhumanity: Symbolic Metaphorical Ancestral Physical (Yes this is an actual reason for some and they are just as much a part of the community as anyone else. Physical and Ancestral nonhumans are part of the community's history and some of its founders.)

For those looking for more information, and community places, here are some places to check out! Werelist Nonhuman National Park Alterhuman Archive The Chimera's Library. The above are forums and archives of information on the community. Most archived information is thanks to who-is-page, liongoatsnake and frameacloud on tumblr.

While this is a brief look into the nonhuman identity that I could share, I do hope it has been helpful in some way. Remember to be true to yourself, and don't let anyone tell you how to feel. Ignore, report, delete and block the haters!

Yeen out~

#alterhuman #otherkin #therian #therianthropy #alterbeing #nonhuman #otherkind #fictionkin #conceptkin #songkin #objectkin #cladokin #cladotherian #cladomythic #theriomythic #paleotherian #creature; the voice #library; open book

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flickering-chandelier · 20 hours

Text

It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.

Warning: Steamy at the end whoops

Word Count: 2.8k

The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.

The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.

You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.

He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.

“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.

“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.

Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”

You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”

He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”

“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”

“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.

“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”

“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.

He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”

Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”

His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”

Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.

He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.

But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.

Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.

“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”

His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.

Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.

You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.

And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.

You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”

He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”

“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.

Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.

Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.

He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.

Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”

You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.

Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.

He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.

“It’s nothing!”

He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”

His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”

“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”

He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”

Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.

“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.

“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.

Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”

“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.

You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.

“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.

The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”

“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.

“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”

You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.

Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.

The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”

“Shh.”

Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.

“Okay, what are you --”

The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.

You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.

He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.

The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.

It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…

You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.

His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.

“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.

You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.

He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.

“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.

His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.

Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.

The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.

You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.

He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.

“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.

“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.

Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…

“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.

“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.

His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.

You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.

“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.

“Please,” was all you could manage.

He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.

The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.

His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.

The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.

“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.

“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.

You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”

“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.

He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.

“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.

You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.

Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.

His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"

He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.

Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.

That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.

“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.

You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”

“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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diorcities · 3 days

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⠀ ⠀ ── ㅤ୧⠀ׂ ★‌ nct dream having a bossy gf !

nct dream sfw headcanon. library.

said by the dreamies themselves, jisung can't live alone, which to me translates to having someone tell him what to do. plus, he actually likes it, he thinks it's tender that you care about him, he feels loved when you ask him if he has eaten and in the negative when you tell him to do so. or when you constantly remind him to wear a coat and take breaks. while to others it would look a bit bossy, jisung knows that you do it because you worry too much about his well-being, and for him, that just goes to show that the love you feel for him is the same love he feels for you.

haechan is the typical boyfriend who would stop whatever he was doing to do what you say... and also the type to ignore you to the point where you lose your composure because he likes to see you upset; he finds it cute. but, seriously, he'd be attracted to bossy girls because then he can romp around and make out. don't expect too much from him, you never know. i think he likes the teasing but eventually, he'd do what you want, pretending to take orders from his superior commander type of thing.

jeno, being the man he is, would do anything you want. he likes to keep you happy, and he is also very indecisive when making decisions, he would leave them in your hands, and he would just follow whatever you choose. it's not that you control everything he does, jeno knows that sometimes it's better to listen to you because you know better. the type of boyfriend who says you're always right and therefore does what you tell him, but not because you're bossy, god forbid; he would never think and/or say that... in front of you.

there are no times when you can be bossy with renjun. there is no bone of contention. usually what he does is the most seated. you're probably feeling anxious because you really want to be bossy with him, but it's almost impossible: the boy knows what he's doing, not a single thought of yours that hasn't already crossed his mind. with him, it would be 50/50. he loves you so much that he'd pretend to do what you say even when it's what he was going to do just to see you happy and because it looks like you'll have a meltdown if he doesn't.

mark finds it hot when you boss him around. yes, tell him what else you want him to do, and he'll do it. you know better than he does what is best for him, he trusts you completely, although sometimes he may try to convince you of something that has entered his head. he'll make you see that it's a good idea even if you're not too sure; you feel guilty because it's like you're in control of everything, but seriously, he likes it when you do, because most of the time, you're right.

don't tell chenle what to do. period. there's no way it's going to happen unless he's already thought about doing it. once an idea has entered his head, there's no way you're going to get it out of it. he won't give in, forget it, unless it ends badly, then he might beg for your opinion after you swore never to tell him anything again. sometimes he may spoil you and do what you say, but don't get used to it because usually he just does what he wants. finds you cute, tho, for trying.

jaemin follows what you say most of the time because it's the sensible thing to do and because he's not very confrontational; not that going against you would end in a fight, but jaemin prefers to avoid divisions or taking sides on things. he's alright and compliant with you most of the time, but when he doesn't, he thinks that the solution to everything is communication, and talking you through the reason behind why he has decided not to do what you wanted.

#nct dream fluff #nct dream reaction #nct dream imagines #nct dream headcanons #haechan reaction #mark reactions #jeno reaction #jisung reaction #jaemin reaction #renjun reaction #chenle reaction #♡dream

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