#but they really do comments out of pocket

[qlossytbh]

𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐟 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you had been affected by harsh comments you overheard about yourself and spencer finds a way to cheer you up.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 mean comments on readers physical appearance :( , fem!reader, use of makeup, insecurity, tooth rotting fluff bc why not!, established relationship

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 no bc i would literally die if this happened to me, why do i write perfect men that don’t exist

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It was stupid.

You repeated that to yourself, like a prayer. Like maybe if you continued to repeat it, you’d somehow convince yourself to believe it.

During the long tedious hours of work until the quiet drive back to your apartment, you tried convincing yourself that what he had said did not really prick a nerve the way it had.

You climbed out of the car, stiletto heels clicking against the crisp pavement. You popped your phone into the back pocket of your pants, grabbing your bag and closing the door with a huff.

The two of you were silent— both for ostensibly different reasons. Spencer was exhausted, sluggishly moving with each step he took towards the door of your shared apartment. You however, had your mind slowly, painfully eating you away.

It hadn’t necessarily been what the particular officer had said, if not how he said it— Quoting something along the lines of ‘using too much makeup because without it you knew you weren’t much.”

You hadn’t been paying attention, hearing it was a complete accident— Morgan was ranting non-stop about something you were initially paying attention to when you heard a pair of officers beside you chattering.

They were talking to each other, laughing emptily while glancing over at you every once in a while. You were sadly accustomed to the perpetual obtrusive gaze of men and they objectified you in and out of the job, something Spencer had yet to get rid of.

You didn’t let it torment you, continuing your attention on Morgan. Until their comments were filtering into your attention more vividly than what Derek was even saying.

They had been cruel in every way, shape or form— evidently your clothes, your makeup, the way you talked— were all a problem to those specifically snobby officers.

You held yourself firmly enough that these things usually never got to you— you wouldn’t let them.

Usually.

Spencer opened the apartment door, slipping his satchel onto the ground beside it with a soft thud. Your hand reached up, rubbing soft, reassuring circles into the back of your neck.

Things were quiet.

You headed to the bathroom, Spencer headed into your room. There was a familiarity between the two of you— coming home together, unwinding the day together, doing most things together. You fell in love with it ever since Spencer asked you to move in, but now it felt almost impossible to hide this growing insecurity from him.

Girls like you weren’t insecure— I mean you were, you just couldn’t show it much. It was pathetic, how something so stupid had dug its claws so deep into your skin.

A few minutes later, Spencer walked into the bathroom, watching you inquiringly reapply some pink shade of blush. You glanced up at him through the mirror, shooting him a quick smile before turning back to yourself and fixing the two coiled strands that framed your face gently.

He sneaked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and sighing heavily, immediately infected by the virulent sweet smell of you. You leaned back into him, allowing him space to dig his face into the crook of your neck and rest there while you continued. These small moments with you tugged at Spencer's heart, but he still wondered.

“What are you doing?” His voice was muffled, hot air tickling the side of your neck as he spoke.

You caught him gazing up at you through the mirror. “I’m retouching my makeup,”

“How come?”

You opened your mouth to answer but opted with a shrug, not entirely sure what to answer without allowing his prying gaze to see right through you. Spencer said your name once, in something nearly above a whisper.

“Hmm?” You hummed, trying to make nothing of his worried gaze.

“Did something happen?” He asked, pulling away from you. His voice was drenched in concern, grabbing you lightly by the shoulders and encouraging you to face him.

“No!—“ You were quick to jump to your defense, but the instability in your voice gave you away almost immediately. “No, it was nothing—“

You sighed heavily. Spencer’s hand came up to your cheek, lightly grazing it under the soft touch of his thumb, reassuring his presence just like he always did. You found yourself annoyed at the exposure— not at Spencer, of course not. But something about having to show him that the things you always reassured didn’t get to you in fact did, nicked something in your ego.

“I overheard some officers saying stuff about me,” You mumbled with an eye roll. You straightened your shoulders and reassured Spencer firmly. “I don’t care, I promise but—“

Spencer waited. Patiently, like he always did when you got like this. Maybe that’s what was so perfect about him. He was always willing to listen, whether it took you months to open up, or a quick shot out ramble, he was always there.

“I don’t know, it made me think,” You said, shaking your head.

“About?”

“Like if I actually tie my value to the superficial perception others have of me,” You explained, as accurately as you could. “People like what they see, and I do too, but I think that’s one of the only reason why I do,”

You looked up at Spencer, who was gazing into your eyes deeply, trying to puzzle together your thoughts for you. “You think that your beauty is judged solely on what people think of you?”

Your cheeks blazed with heat and you let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know, it’s stupid Spence—“

“Hold on,” Spencer let you go, reaching into your side of the shared bathroom drawer. You blinked, completely bewildered as to whatever it was that your boyfriend sudden idea. You watched him, brows slightly crinkled as he pulled one of your bottle’s of makeup remover, along with a few cotton pads that had been lying loosely in the drawer. He popped the cap open, pouring a tiny bit of liquid onto the fluffy white pads.

He turned to you, cotton pad in hand. You looked between the small piece of cotton in his hand and his face. Before he could reach over to grab your chin, you quickly grabbed him by the wrist, eyes panicky. “What are you doing?”

Spencer huffed. “Do you trust me?”

“Not really,” You said, giving his wrists a small squeeze as a smile crept onto your face. Spencer deadpanned at you.

“Please?”

Your lips pulled into a tight line before accepting your defeat and nodding gently. He reached forward, grabbing your chin softly and bringing it across the side of your cheek. He then dragged the cool pad over your temples as your face twisted in disgust.

“It’s cold,” You hissed. He chose to ignore your complaints, aimlessly dragging the cold pad across your face and removing all the makeup that sat on it comfortably.

Somehow, this felt like undressing yourself in broad daylight— maybe even worse. You never usually walked around without at least a bit of makeup on, so allowing the person you loved the most to see what you were so insecure about was scary.

It erupted a string of thoughts and countless worries in your head, that were probably way too destructive than kind. What if he found something wrong with your face? What if he was somehow disappointed? What if he only got with you because of your beauty and now he’s realizing you really weren’t all that much?

“Is this your attempt at proving a point?” You asked as the cotton pad hovered over your left eye, rubbing gentle circles.

“Yes,” He answered, tongue sticking out in deep concentration. You began pulling back, hand tight around Spencer’s wrist. You squirmed under his grip.

“You’re getting it in my eye!” You whined.

“Stop moving around then,” He groaned, moving onto the other eye. You blinked, peering through your only available eye.

“You’re going to see my eye bags and I promise you it’s not a cute look,” You warned.

“Seriously?” He asked, sarcasm lacing every single word in his voice. You glared at him through your single eye.

“And my acne scars,” You listed, voice getting close to that of a warning. He hummed nonchalantly.

“And my lanky eyebrows and my lips—“ The cotton pad hovered across your lips, shutting you up, probably on purpose.

“The horror,”

“Spencer,” You muffled a groan, pushing his hand off your lips.

He pulled back, taking a quick look at your now bare face. Spencer wasn’t exactly used to seeing you like this. You’d never really walk around without any makeup in front of him, it was always either too dark to see or too early for him to even realize.

And god if he thought he had won before, he was now realizing he had won the whole lottery. His eyes raked across every freckle, every line, every dot on your face and he was absolutely stunned. He felt himself fall in love twice as hard as he already had. He set down the last used cotton pad and directed your chin towards the mirror at your own reflection.

“Look,”

“Hmm,” You shrugged, squinting your eyes indifferently. “Didn’t realize my eye bags were getting darker.”

Spencer pinched your side, causing you to giggle. “You look beautiful.”

You looked at Spencer through the mirror. This time, the compliment sat much differently. It always meant the most when the words ‘beautiful’ came from Spencer, but having him say it when it was just you, bare and exposed, meant the world and it made your heart start pattering harshly against your chest.

He guided your chin back at him, and cupped your face in his palms, softly stroking his thumbs across the soft pads of your cheeks. “So, so beautiful,”

He brought your face up to his and closed the space between the two of you. You sighed, melting once again under the substantial comfort of Spencer’s touch. You breathed him in— every part you possibly could while your hands rested on either side of his torso. The kiss was soft, but heavy with feeling.

He pulled away, wallowing in two more soft pecks to keep himself satisfied. You smiled before your eyes fluttered open. Spencer himself was decorated in a lopsided smile as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You watched him concentrate his attention on your fly away hairs. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

He nodded, pecking your lips once again. “And I love you,”

“Even if my eye bags get darker?” You pipped pursing your lips.

“Especially if,” He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug.

#fanfic #fic rec #fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer #spencer x reader #spencer x you #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer x y/n #spencer x female reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x bombshell!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

[sleepingdead96]

Prepared for Anything Pt. 4

Danny folded his arms beneath his head where he lay on the desert floor. The sky blinked with stars and he was so happy he took a trip out of Gotham to do this. He liked Gotham, it felt kinda like home. But it didn’t have stars. It didn’t have the expanse of clear black pinpricked with dazzling, little lights and constellations.

It was handy being able to pop in and out of hemispheres any time he pleased.

“DANNY?!” 

Oh.

Danny rolled his head to the side to see a few violently shivering vigilantes coming around a scraggly, rocky outcrop. Robin, Red Hood, and a black and blue one Danny hadn’t encountered before, wrapped their arms around themselves tightly. They changed directions to walk towards him.                                                                                           

“Oh, hey guys.” Danny raised a hand to wave lazily at them and tucked it back in place. “What are y'all doing out here?” He asked amicably, though surmised they must be on some sort of mission. What a coincidence.

Hood and the one coloured like a bruise spluttered. “US?” Hood cried a little frenetically. As they got closer, Danny could see all their teeth were chattering and their lips were starting to turn blue. 

Oh. That wasn’t good. He had been sad Orphan wasn’t here. Maybe it was better that she wasn’t.

Hood and Robin stormed closer while Bruisy followed at a slower pace. “WHAT-T A-ARE YOU D-DOING OUT H-H-HERE?! H-HOW D-DID YOU GET OUT H-HERE?! I M-MEAN. . . .WHAT?!” Hood gestured his arms bewilderedly at him. “W-WERE T-TEN C-COUNTIRES A-AWAY F-F-FROM THE S-S-STATES!”

Danny stood up and reached under his t-shirt. “Here.” He handed Hood, Robin, and Bruisy large, reflective blankets, throwing Hood off from his rant.

“. . .wha. . .” Bruisy said. The vigilantes seemed slightly confused, but didn’t hesitate to unfold them and throw them around their shoulders.

“So?” Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Our p-plane w-wrecked.” Robin grumbled venomously.

“. . .and ex-exploded.” Hood added.

Danny hummed sympathetically. 

Robin opened his mouth again. “How are you—“

“Have you contacted. . um. . . your associates?” Danny wasn’t really sure what the vigilantes called each other or what their relations were like, but they acted like teammates. They should help each other out when things like this happened, right?

Bruise sighed. “N-no signal.” The man seemed particularly tired and out a little out of it. That really wasn’t good.

“A-and all the s-supers are o-off planet.”

“The what are where? Nevermind.” Danny waved his hand dismissively and reached over his shoulder. He ducked his head a little as he withdrew a three foot metal rod from the back of his shirt.

“Uhhhh. . .” Bruise said.

Danny pulled another rod from a sleeve and a third from his pant leg.

“H-how, dude, j-just. . .just w-why?” Hood said.

Danny didn’t answer and reached underneath the back of his shirt to pull out a fourth. He stuck them in the ground straight up, making a square.

“W-what are y-you d-doing?” Robin asked.

“Building a cell tower.” Danny said and reached into his other pant leg, taking out another rod. And another. From his pocket, he pulled out a screwdriver and some screws.

“. . .N-nothing a-about you makes-s s-sense.” Hood commented.

Danny snorted.

“Y-you’re n-n-not aff-ffected by the c-cold. W-why?” Robin’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Uhhhhh. . .” Danny attached more rods together and screwed some screws. “I, uh. . .I was working out. Warmed me up a lot.” He lied. He knew it was bad. He was still going to drive it into the ground if they questioned it. “And I haven’t been here that long.”

Danny fished a large spool of wire from his back pocket and a pair of pliers from the other.

Robin watched him do it. He stared at him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing further. “Meta-human.”

“Gesundheit.”

The reply seemed to take the vigilantes by surprise, but said nothing of it. They were too busy shivering and huddling on the ground, trying to warm up. At least they didn’t seem to be getting worse.

Danny pulled rod after rod from his clothes. He began to retrieve them from the dirt and sand before it became too many to say it was physically possible to have this many pieces on his person. He had to have limits somewhere. 

“. . .How d-did you k-know those w-were th-th-there!?” Hood said.

“Umm. . .I come here often. What if I got stranded and needed to call someone? Or I spotted a UFO and needed to make contact? I buried these in the sand so no one would steal ‘em.”

“. . . W-were in the m-middle of t-the d-desert. I d-don’t think you n-need to w-worry about th-that. . .”

“You found me, didn’t you?”

“. . .”

“. . .”

Dannykept attaching, and screwing, and wiring, and plier-ing, until he was finally at the top of a twenty-foot tower, and affixing transceivers to it. With the ectoplasm Danny infused into it, it should be powerful enough to work.

He had considered making them a jet, but that might take too long. This way they could get help from the nearest civilization while they waited for pick-up.

  Danny climbed back down.

Even with their masks, the baffled astonishment was clear on the vigilante’s faces. “What the heck. . .” Bruise said faintly.

Danny ignored him and flicked a switch. “Give it a go.” He encouraged the vigilantes who looked to be shaking a little less.

They shared doubtful glances and checked their tech. “It works!” Hood exclaimed and immediately sent out an S.O.S.

Danny made an offended noise and held a hand to his chest. “You doubted me?”

“Yes.” The three said in unison.

“It’s a cell tower.” Hood continued. “How do you even know how to build that?”

“Eh.” Danny shrugged. “You pick a few things up when your parents have a lab in their basement for you to play around in growing up.”

There was a long pause. 

“That is highly concerning and explains almost nothing.”

Danny’s brows furrowed.

“Seriously. How are you here?”

Danny shrugged again. “I walked.” It wasn’t a lie.

Despite explaining he had a way back to Gotham, the vigilantes wouldn’t leave without him. They slept most of the way back.

Tag List: @okami-love @whataspectaclebear @thomasdimensor @observerblock23 @stargazer-luna

#dpxdc fanfic #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #danny fenton #red hood #nightwing #robin #dimension travel

[luveline]

Jade omg i love coworker james so much!! I was hoping i could request them taking the elevator up to their office together and it breaking down and them being stuck together!! Super cliche but i think it could be really cute and fun and that you’d write it so well!

You decide today is the day you stop pretending to forget something in your car. James has been nice lately. He does still hide your mug everyday, and he acts like an idiot at your desks. Just yesterday he made a parachute for one of his little figurines and made it land in your lunch. But he keeps saving you when you’re in trouble, and he might think he has to do it but it’s not true. 

If something goes wrong, James is the one who helps you out. Maybe it’s proximity, but maybe he’s just not the jerk you pegged him to be. 

So you’re being brave. You get out of your car, to James’ surprise, and you give him a teeny tiny smile. “Morning,” you say, making your way to the office steps, and following closely behind him. 

“Morning,” he says, looking back. He holds open the door for you without further comment. 

You walk in through the building’s lobby and past the main receptionist to the twin elevators. There’s a downstairs to the building, the lab, where the company conducts their water safety testing, and an upstairs where you and James and your colleagues work. He hits the elevator button on the right, you both wait for it to come down. 

“Did you see about that movie?” you ask. 

“I did!” He laughs at himself generously. “You’ll have to be more specific, I’m afraid.” 

“Crazy, if you gave me like, two more seconds before you interrupted, I would’ve specified.” You catch yourself scowling and soften your expression. “You know, the movie you told me about with the aliens that can hear you from ten miles away.” 

“Oh. What was I supposed to see about it?” 

You should’ve waited in the car. The elevator descends and the doors open. James waits for you to go in first before he follows, and you let him click your floor number as you lean against the mirror. 

You elect to wait in silence as the elevator chugs up, and up, and.

It stops short with a horrible sharp sound you’ve never heard it make. 

James looks at you, then the control panel. The doors don’t open. “That’s fucked,” he says hotly. 

“We stopped too early, right?” 

“No, no way.” He clicks the open door button, waiting approximately half a second before he starts to spam it. 

“Wait, what if you mess it up?” 

“Mess it up? It’s stuck.” 

You glare at him. “It’s not stuck.” 

“It’s stuck.” James slams his hand into the emergency button and waits with a frown for it to ring. “Hello?” he asks. 

“James, it’s still ringing.” 

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he says. 

You hide your smile. You’d been unnerved by the sound, sure, but the elevator isn’t creaking or whining, it’s just stopped. There’s an inkling of worry growing in your chest. You’re perhaps a smidge too tired to panic. It’s barely 8AM. 

And James’ reaction is wildly comical. He glares at the control panel and rings the emergency button again, and again. Nobody answers. After a few long seconds of this, the control panel goes dark, backlit numbers fading. 

The overhead light blinks out. 

It’s quite dark without it. 

“What the fuck?” James asks. Surprisingly, he sounds less panicked than before. “The electrics gone. A power cut?” 

“It’s really dark,” you say unhelpfully. 

“If only I had one of my darling Smiskis to light up the lift.” James takes his phone from his pocket and turns on the torch, your eyes aching but then thankful for the added illumination. You can see his face again, the tug of a brow too handsome to be meant for grumpiness, and the confused pout of his lips. He has a lovely face, with sweet eyes, dark brown hair framing it, and the aura around him when he’s smiling is lovely too.  He’s a little less lovely when he frowns, but not by much. “I’m gonna shout,” he warns you. 

You and James spend that first half an hour believing the lift to be a short problem. Then another half an hour on the phone to Remus and then your boss, who assures you both that the maintenance team will fix it within the hour. “Within the hour?” James says to you where you’ve sat cross-legged on the floor. “Within the hour? How long do they think we’ve been in here?” 

“Maybe we can call the fire brigade to come and save us?” you suggest quietly. You and James are in very close quarters. His shouting has hurt your head. 

“They might have to. Why does nobody know what’s wrong with the lift? Are they really that complicated?”

James sits down beside you dejectedly. The lift is snug, but there’s room for him to sit further away that he doesn’t use. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“Fine.” 

You open your bag in your lap and unveil your thermos. It comes with a cup as the lip. “Do you want some hot chocolate?” 

James tips his head back against the wall. “Yes,” he says, “okay. You never finished telling me about the alien movie anyways. What’s the news?” 

You smother a smile. “I’m not telling you. You should’ve listened to me the first time.” 

For some reason, you don’t argue once in the two hours you spend stuck. Not after the initial bickering. You drink your hot chocolate and you end up sitting together watching the trailer for the movie on your phone, and neither of you move away after. That is, until the elevator flicks back on and the doors are being pried open —you spring apart, caught red handed enjoying each other's company. 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

[cheapshrimpysheep]

hi, is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons where Leona, vil and rook(separately) has a s/o who starts randomly wearing gloves and hiding their hands from them due to getting really bad contact dermatitis from their work and not really able to do anything about it work wise

COMMENTS: Coincidentally, I myself have problems with dermatitis on my hands. So, perhaps what I wrote comes a lot from my own experience. Especially the thing about using an ointment that worked once and for some reason no longer works. 😅 And having some trouble sleeping because of the itching.

I hope you and all enjoy it ❤️‍🩹

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar / Vil Schoenheit / Rook Hunt

TAGS: Comfort; Fluff; GN Reader

WORD COUNT: An average of 610 words per character

Contact dermatitis is an itchy, inflamed rash that develops when your skin comes into contact with an irritant or allergen. There are two main types: Irritant contact dermatitis and Allergic contact dermatitis.

I decided to go with the first one since Irritant contact dermatitis is the most common type. It's caused by a substance that irritates the skin, such as soaps, detergents, solvents, or harsh chemicals.

CONTEXT: You got dermatitis after cleaning Ramshackle Dorm. It's not the first time, you already had it before, so you think you know how to treat it. Nobody needs to know. So you will take care of your hands at home and whenever you go out you will wear gloves to try to protect them. You'll be fine in no time... Right...?

Leona knew something was wrong the moment he saw you wearing gloves. Nobody starts wearing gloves out of nowhere just because. But he didn't need to ask anything because he saw you moving your hands as if those gloves were uncomfortable. And once or twice he saw you scratching your hands through your gloves and stopping immediately as if you had remembered that you shouldn't do it.

He wasn't going to get involved. At least not if it looked like you were getting better. But on the second day, you still itched. And on the third day, you had bigger dark circles than usual and the itching seemed the same or worse.

You had just returned to Ramshackle Dorm and the first thing you did was take off your gloves and run to the bathroom to treat your hands. Why didn't that get better? You were using the same ointment as last time.

“You should go to the infirmary.” Grim said “Hench-humans should take better care of themselves so they are always ready.” He teases you before showing actual concern. “You're not even sleeping well. I wake up to you scratching yourself every five minutes.”

You won't admit it, but he's right. You should go to the infirmary. Maybe tomorrow. That's what you're thinking when you hear someone knocking on the door. But you can't cover your hands now, the ointment is still working. So you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Show me your hands.” Leona demands calmly. You look surprised and confused. “Show me your hands.” he reiterates, crossing his arms but still patient.

“Why?” you ask.

“Why are you hiding them?” he asks back. “If everything is normal, why don't you show me?” and smiles smugly.

I mean, he's right. Who opens the door with one hand behind their back. This is very suspicious. You hesitate, but end up stretching your arms in front of you to show your red hands and unhealthy skin.

But Leona isn’t surprised. He barely even reacts. As if you had just confirmed his suspicions. He takes off one of his own gloves and puts it in his pocket, holding one of your hands with his gloved hand while he runs the other carefully over your broken skin, to feel it. Does he know it's not contagious?

“The ointment isn't working, is it?” He sais. You had just put it in your hand, so he definitely felt the moist. He puts the glove back on. “Do you have your keys?”

You say they are on the entrance table.

“So grab them and let's go. Unless you want to be locked out of the dorm.”

“Let’s go where?”

“To the herbivores club party. To the infirmary. Where else? If you don't go there alone, someone has to take you. Don't tell me you forgot where it is?” he smiles smugly again. “And don't make me pick you up. You know I would.”

Vil saw your new gloves. Were you trying to change your style a little? No. That's not it. You were uncomfortable with those gloves. He knows about fashion, the same way he knows when a person is using a piece to hide some part of their body.

After classes you went back to Ramshackle Dorm, took off your gloves and applied the ointment. It had worked last time, but this time it didn't seem to be having any effect. You had just come out of the bathroom, with your hands smeared with pumice, when someone knocked on the door. Damn it.

You can't cover your hands now, so you open the door with one hand, using the door hide this one and place the other behind your back.

“Hello (Y/N)” Vil greets you. “I apologize for the sudden appearance, but can I come in to talk to you about something?”

You think for a second, you can keep hiding your hands behind your back, so you tell him he can come in. He enters and you close the door behind you, always hiding your hands.

“You've never used gloves before. It's not your style.” It didn't sound like he was criticizing you, like he tends to do with a lot of people. In fact, he sounded quite calm and neutral, almost understanding. “If there's one thing I know how to distinguish when someone starts using a new accessory, it's whether they're using it to try to improve their appearance or to hide themselves. And this second one tends to be a sensitive subject. That's why I thought it would be best to ask you in private. Did something happen to your hands? Are you injured?”

You tell him no, that you're not injured. Well, not exactly in that sense of the word at least. You end up telling him the truth about your skin and how it has reacted to cleansing products.

“Dermatitis? Let me see. I want to know how bad it is.” He now has that judgmental look on his eyes. Which makes you hesitate a little, but you are now also at the point of no return.

You take your hands from behind your back and show Vil your red hands and unhealthy skin, without being able to look him directly in the eyes.

“For the Great Seven! And you let your skin reach this point?” he scolds you. “When did this happen? Have you gone to the infirmary already?”

You say you went there the last time this happened and they gave you an ointment, which was what you were applying.

“And is it having any effect?” He asks. You say that, compared to last time, not really. “Then get ready to go to the infirmary.” He thinks for a second if you should protect your hands from the sun, which reminds him of the gloves he saw you wearing that day. “Let me see the gloves you were wearing.”

You go get the gloves and give them to him. He looks at you disapprovingly as soon as he picks them up.

“These cheap gloves? This material is horrendous! It's probably making your situation even worse.” He throws the gloves onto the entrance table. If there had been a rubbish bin there he would have thrown it in there. He takes off his own gloves and hands them to you. “Here, use mine. They are cotton inside.” You hesitate. His gloves? And they must be expensive. “You can keep them. I have many more like these.”

As you put on his gloves, he details his new plans with you.

“We will go to the infirmary and you will hear everything they told you to do and use. After that, we will review all your cleaning products and materials you use that come into contact with your hands and can create this reaction again. If we have to get rid of everything and buy new products we will do so.” You look at him and show your concern about the price of these possible new products. “If they are truly that expensive, I'll buy them for you. Your hands won't go back to this state on my watch. And then you come with me to Pomefiore to analyze your skin and find products to protect and care for your hands. Did you understood?”

Que Adorable! Rook thinks. Trickster really thought they could hide something from me? That really entertain him. Seeing you wearing gloves and trying to hide how uncomfortable you were wearing them and trying not to scratch your hands too much. You reminded him of an animal that tries to hide the fact that it is seriously injured.

Even though it was funny at first, he couldn't see you like this. He assumed what it was from the symptoms you show, but he didn't want to talk to you in front of others. After all, if you were trying to hide it, it's because he didn't want others to know.

He sneakily followed you to Ramshackle Dorm. You opened the door, letting Grim enter first to run to the kitchen for some snacks. You pass the door jamb and it's when you go to close the door that you hear

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook’s head pops from the side. He lets out a little muffled laugh at how startled you were. “I spotted yor new pair of glove on your hands. Are you perhaps trying a new look? Merveilleux! It's exciting to try out new accessories to express another side of ourselves, isn't it? However...” His friendly look now changes to that hunter look of his. And the smile of someone who cannot be deceived. “I don't believe that's the real motive you're wearing those gloves. Am I mistaken?”

You don't even know how to answer him. He already knows the truth and you know there's nothing you can do about it. His expression returns to normal, he now has that characteristic resting smile on his face.

“There's no need to be shy with me. I purposely came to talk to you here because I knew it wasn't something you wanted to discuss in public.” And now his smile has faded into that slightly more serious look that he only tends to have when something worries him a little, or when he feels that the situation is not so light. “I saw how you itched your hands, how uncomfortable you were with the gloves. It's a skin problem, isn't it? Maybe dermatitis?”

You don't say anything. It's not necessary. He knows the answer just by looking at you, your face, your posture. And your hands were starting to itch again.

“Please, you can take off your gloves. They are clearly only making your situation worse.” You hesitate. “It really hurts me to see you suffering like this. No matter how damaged your skin is, I know that your hands are as beautiful as the rest of you and that they just need treatment to become très belles again. And if you allow me to help with your recovery, I will do so with the greatest love and care.” He smiles charmingly at you, the type of smile that makes you feel safe.

You take off your gloves, showing him your red hands and unhealthy skin.

“Sacrebleu! What did this to your hands?”

You tell him it was your cleaning products and about the ointment you were using since the last time that happened to you. And, unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be having much effect this time.

“We must go to the infirmary if it's not working anymore.” He proclaims, embodying his dramatic self. “Ooh, your poor, beautiful hands, threatened by something that should assist you caring for your home and yourself. They must be replaced. I will happily help you with it and get you gloves that will protect you in the future. Fear not, my dear Trickster. Shall your hands be healthy once again.”

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#1000 followers #1K followers #1000 followers milestone #1K followers milestone #1000 followers celebration #1K followers celebration #Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #twst requests #Twisted Wonderland requests #requests #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader #Leona x Reader #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader #Rook Hunt #Rook Hunt x Reader #Rook x Reader

[webslingingslasher]

I have this image in my head of the boys teasing trouble with Peter around, and he doesn't really do anything because it's all playful, and he knows she doesn't care– but I can imagine that one day trouble decides she 'had enough' or maybe just wanted some quiet (she's not actually bothered, she's just a little minx) and kind of like, said Peter's name in a small voice—maybe she buried her head into him to really get him where it hurts—after they made some comments, and Peter instantly tells them to back off a little. Imagine trouble looking over at them smugly when Peter wasn't looking.

I feel like she pulls the Peter card with them whenever she can, just because. And I feel like Ethan was the first she used it on so he doesn't really do anything of the sorts anymore, and just sits back and watches as trouble causes trouble.

<3

— 🩰

*cleaning out my inbox.*

HOOEIWBFOEB YESSSS YES

imagine everyone was dogging on tarrent and you joined right in.

'seriously, it looks like something my grandma would wear.'

'what would you know about women's fashion? you only buy clothes to throw them on parker's floor.' the crowd softly oo's, you almost crack a smile yourself at ethan's clapback. instead you play smarter.

you tuck your head against peter and softly pout when you call for him. 'peter.' he wraps his arm around your back and barks at ethan. 'cut the shit, keznek.'

you peek an eye open and poke your tongue out at ethan, he whines and points at your expression. 'she's making it all up!' you hug your boyfriend tightly, 'peter.'

'leave her alone. all of you.' you give another sneer, tarrent looks proud. ethan holds his grimace and you keep your guard dog in your back pocket.

#frat!peter drabbles

[thetorturedbuckydepartment]

chapter three: in the blink of a crinkling eye

pairing: Bucky barnes x plus-sized!reader

summary: Six months ago, you were appointed to be Head Nurse to the Avengers by Tony Stark. Every day, you count your lucky stars, knowing the horrible past you quickly ditched back in England. It holds you back, restrains you, from getting close to anyone when on your new job.

That's until you met and fell in love with Bucky Barnes. The supposed assassin with a heart of gold, who seems to be eager to get to know you. To peel back your layers piece by piece, but could you trust him once you're laid before him raw and vulnerable?

PREVIOUS PART -- CHAPTER TWO: MAKING AMENDS

warnings: language, fatshaming, self deprecation,

word count: 3.4k

Taglist: @scott-loki-barnes @cjand10 @blackwidownat2814 @blackbirdwitch22

A/N: chapter three finally!! enjoy :) also comment if you wanna be added to the taglist!

Ever since that day, you and Bucky quickly became practically inseparable. Always sitting next to each other in meetings, he’d always come to visit whenever he could, and you’d always be jetted off to missions together.

It only took an hour or two for you to open up, pour all the poison that had slowly been burning away your insides, and the both of you lightening your burdens to each other in the dead of night. The dreams leave you both quite lonely. 

You’re busy patching Steve up, just applying ointment to a bruise you’re both sure will disappear before he even leaves the infirmary. He comments on how happy you’ve seemed lately as you talk away about the plans you and Bucky have for the next weekend, discussing your idea to buy him some new clothes more suited to a man in the 21st century. And then Tony Stark walks in the room, wearing his classic thick, black sweater and looking worried as hell. 

“Nurse! We need to talk.” He looks directly at you, and you flinch at his raised tone. He clocks on immediately, softening his approach. You lead him into a neighbouring empty room.

“What’s this about Mr Stark?” You remain, ever polite. You clasp your hands in front of you, smiling expectantly. He shoves his hands in his pockets, wondering how to phrase his next words.

“I know you’ve talked to FRIDAY about your spot at dinner…but I was just informed that you asked her to not have your meal sent to your room. Is everything okay? Do you need to speak to someone?” You’re well aware of what he thinks, what he’s insinuating. You’ve been here before, the last time Sharon made a mean comment about you was the last time you set foot in that damned dining room. 

You swallow the bitter memory, making way for the sweet words about to leave your mouth. “No, sir. Everything’s alright with me. I asked FRIDAY to not send my meals to my room, because…well, I was thinking of coming to dinner tonight. Bucky talked me into it, and I think I should stop holding onto things that happen so long ago now.” You smile, letting your affection for the super soldier known. 

He relaxes, but shoots you a confused look. “Metalbox? Really?” 

“Yeah. We’re kind of good friends now.” He nods. “Alright, let me know the second anything changes or if anything is said that makes you uncomfortable. Okay?”

You nod this time, assuring him. He walks you out and lets you return to the infirmary, where Bucky is waiting for you. Your smile brightens by a millions Watts, but Bucky never seems blinded. 

“Hey Buck!” You say, taking a standstill right in front of him. You haven’t really discussed how either of you stand on physical contact, but when he wraps you in a warm hug, you don’t fight it. You own arms end up around his middle, turning the embrace into something a lot more intimate, but too lost in each other to care. 

The nickname of a nickname has him completely melting into every soft curve of you and never wanting to leave, forever entranced by the lingering scent of your lotion and perfume, the perfectly concocted pheromones only for him. 

“Hey, doll. I missed you.” His tone is so soft, your heart can barely take it. What started off as a simple attraction has now fully snowballed into a crush of embarrassing proportions, and the fact that he even wants to be around you to this degree has you completely giddy. 

When his words are such sugar, when his touch lingers just half a millisecond longer than it should, you are able to delude yourself he feels the same. You know you’re wrong, you just haven’t been shown such attention since you stopped being naturally amazing at everything as a child. But you dream anyway, of blue seas and black and gold. 

“Missed you too. Did you have a busy day sparring?” He nods, keeping an arm around you as you both walk down the long corridors, arms welded like lovers to each other’s backs. 

“Yeah, I got to practise giving Steve an ass whooping today to show the trainees how to defeat someone when held at knifepoint.”

“Oh, you have to show me sometime,” you say excited, trying not to show how hot you’re starting to run at the idea of Bucky dismantling someone despite the weapons they may yield. It makes you feel safer, snuggling up to him all that tighter. 

And then the doors to your seemingly worse nightmares appear. Simple, made of black glass and sliding open when it recognises the two of you trying to get in. 

She’s really not going to eat all of that, is she? The cruel words ring in your head and you swallow hard. “Hey, we don’t have to go if you changed your mind. We can just go to that restaurant I was telling you about on Monday.”

How long will you let your fears consume you? You shake your head. “That’s awfully sweet of you, Buck. Really, but I want to. I have to try, at least. Plus, its not just her and me in there. There’s Steve, and Nat and Wanda’s just come back from her mission, and Thor’s visiting. And you’ll be next to me. Won’t you?” You look up at him bashfully, as if you expect him to say no.

You have no idea how much he wants to kiss you and that pout on your lips. “Yeah, of course I’ll be there, doll. Always.” You grin like you’re surprised, solemnly untangling yourself from his arms as you step inside. Not that you hate the physical contact, but the idea of partaking in such activities in the presence of other people makes you sweat. You’ve never been one to share details about your romantic life, expecting nothing but a dissection and a ridicule once your chest cavity opens. You know these groups of people may not be like that, but the strange pain still ascends up your chest. You feel Bucky’s presence behind you, though, warm hand just centimetres away from yours like a promise of quick reassurance. 

The room falls silent, and you notice how you and Bucky are the last two members to enter, and so theres only two open seats — one right next to Sharon and another directly in front of her. You swallow, not knowing which position is worse when Steve warmly beckons you over to sit next to him, the seat directly opposite Sharon. 

You smile and accept his offer, watching Bucky as he walks around the table to begrudgingly take a seat in between two people, blue eyes burning like he’d much rather swap with Steve. “Nurse! How nice of you to join us!” Tony beckons from the head of the table, and everyone cheers and welcomes you warmly, Steve patting your back gently. It almost drowns out the scoff. 

You stay mainly quiet, keeping to yourself. It’s your first day here, in this dining room, and you’ll take some time to get adjusted. Hopefully a certain someone will keep her mouth shut and you’ll come back tomorrow. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve whispers down at you in between courses. “Me too, actually. This isn’t too horrible.” You smile just as the servers set down a plate of your favourite dish — a completely vegan chicken Alfredo and garlic bread — right in front of you, hot and steaming. Your stomach grumbles embarrassingly loudly and you try your best to stay oblivious to it, not noticing how Bucky’s eyes are trained on you, at how cute you look when you’re flustered. 

He chuckles and you meet his eye, smiling warmly. You get through the meal without a single hitch, and it seems that someone’s chastised Sharon before you could enter the room. You’re eternally grateful to that person, whoever that is.

During the meal, you get to hear stories of the time when Steve was at “war” with Tony, of childhood incidents from the 1930s, and the way Bucky acts when he’s drunk as shit. Thor’s brought some Asgardian liquor with him, knowing even the finest wine in the Tower’s cellar wouldn’t even get him buzzed. 

One by one, people start bidding goodnight, until it’s just Thor, Bucky and you. Steve has to be up at 5 tomorrow, to prepare for a meeting, or so he says. 

“And then he calls me a son of a bitch!” Thor explains, loud enough for you to flinch. He and Bucky laugh in uproar, and the sound of it takes you away. You find yourself staring, at his tipped back head and his wide grin, so beautiful all you want to do is climb in his lap and kiss him senseless. You refrain, of course. 

“Alright, I think it’s time for bed, Buck. Should we go?” You use your thumb to point behind you, and he nods.

“Yes, I would go anywhere for you, doll. All you have to do is ask.” You roll your eyes, not knowing intoxication also makes him a terrible flirt.

You gently move to him when he wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you tight to him, face buried in your soft stomach. “Mm, can we just stay like this for a while, please?” He flashes you his bright blue puppy dog eyes, and you can’t resist. Shoulders sag as you breathe out a laugh at him. “Just a minute, then we’ll get you back to your room. Okay?” He nods, pressing his gorgeous face against your middle once again, and you can’t help but smile. He’s adorable. You gently run your hands through his hair, completely oblivious to Thor’s hunkering form leaving his seat. "How is it that a woman as perfect as you exists even in the 21st century?" He drunkenly grumbles. "It's genetics, darling." You smile like you've been completely lovestruck, and it's inevitably gotten to your head. "No, doll, I'm being serious. You're so perfect, feels like I was made to complement you. So pretty…"

“Alright, time for bed. Come on.” You drag him up and he wraps his arms around your shoulders. He’s so heavy you find it hard to breathe and reluctantly pull away from his warmth. One arm around his back, you gently guide him to his room in the same fashion he’s brought you to the dining room. The entire time there, he rattles off every synonym for beautiful he can think of as you fight against a smile harder and harder. There is a drunken veracity to him in this moment, and you don’t have it in you to fight him in such a state. You haven’t had more than a glass yourself, leaving you perfectly capable of safely navigating the long corridor, planning to drop him off and safely retreat to your own room just beside his. But he pulls you in.

“Stay with me…please, doll. Need you.” His breath is hot against your ear, tone soft and needy. Like he’s two seconds away from getting on his knees and begging you.

You yield. “Okay, Buck. Let’s just get you to bed, alright?” He nods, head lolling against his shoulders. On your way to the bed, you trip over one of his socks, his shoes long discarded at the entrance, slipping. He catches you without so much as a second thought or grunt. Reminding you of his strength. His hands on your waist turn you around, and you let out a yelp as your back meets the bed, his chest meeting yours and knocking the breath out of you.

Your hands grip the sheets while you’re trying your best to not look at him, his kind words reverberating around your head. His supposed infatuation, though deep down you know isn’t true. It can’t be. 

“Stop squirming. Look at me.” He whispers, metal hand cupping your face. He’s become more confident in using it when he’s around you, you’ve noticed. But you haven’t seen how much it means to him, to have someone who didn’t know him before, and only after. Someone who knows everything and loves him despite it. Now, the definition of love used in the previous sentence can be heavily disputed —is it platonic, or something more? He feels the latter brewing in his chest, but he’s more than happy with either option. He just wants you by his side, soft and warm and everything good in the world all wrapped up in one woman.

When your eyes meet his, the sky blue has you swallowing. It’s so clear you feel like you’re flying. Even with his crushing weight sandwiching you between him and the mattress, you ache for him. More than you’ll ever admit, even as his bitter-tinted breath washes over your face.

“So pretty…Do you know how much I fucking want you? Even when I can hear every whisper, every sigh, every goddamned sound you make in here when you’re alone, after we say goodnight. All I want is to knock on your door. Would you ever answer, if I did?” His eyes are glued to your mouth, the colour entrancing him. You let out the smallest sigh, and you feel his thumb rub against your lower lip, making your eyelids flutter. The motion stirs something inside you, deep and primal, rabid and wanting. 

“Yes…” You respond before your brain has even a second to catch up, to filter your thoughts. You see his pupils dilate in real time, entranced by the sight as he takes you in, the metal pushing against your teeth no longer cold. He asks you like he hasn’t already knocked, albeit for other purposes, and you haven’t already answered at the drop of a hat.

He leans in closer and closer, and you both are aware of the current pace of your heart, slamming in your ears like you would upon a door. Your head tilts up as his moves down, hot lips just grazing along yours, igniting every bone in your body as your hands grab at his chest instead, and he lets out a breath. You swallow it, eyes closing, giving in to the desires you’ve kept locked in a bottle deep inside your chest, just under your diaphragm.

Then reality come hurtling towards you like a freight train.

“Bucky…stop.” You push a hand against his chest, surprised to feel his heart pounding just as fast as yours. You’re full expecting for push to come to shove, but to your almost disbelief, he retracts immediately. Completely off, and lying next to you, while you try to hold back tears.

You know the truth — he doesn’t really want you. He’s just drunk, and you’re the only female body around. Nothing more.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You gaze is fixed on the ceiling, unable to look at him even when he’s on his side, eyes trained on you. “After everything I’ve told you about my…my past. All the bullying, and the trauma, and the pain. Why—Why?” Several shaky breaths escape you, trying to blink back the tears. 

His fingers brush your temples frantically, absorbing the salt as he talks over himself. “Wait…Wait no. I— Doll, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I don’t wanna make you cry. No, no no, not what I meant, not what I—“ You turn to meet his eyes, grabbing his wrist in yours and unable to stop yourself from stroking the inside of it with your thumb. 

“Then what did you mean? I’ve told you, how people treat attraction to me like a joke. And then the second you have some alcohol in your system, you start acting the same way?”

“But it’s not a joke! I’m not joking when I call you beautiful. I think—I know you are, doll. Why else would I say it? You know I hate lying…” As you gaze upon his distraught expression, you realise the error of your ways, knowing he probably won’t remember any of this. So what’s the point of wasting your breath twice? For now, you accept it, lock it away for another day.

“Alright…Let’s just go to bed now, okay? I’m tired, baby.” The nickname slips out absentmindedly, and the way his mouth falls open lets you know that you didn’t overstep as his tongue traces his lips in the same way you wish to do so. 

“Yes! Let’s get my pretty baby some well deserved rest. Works too hard…” His eyes begin to close with his hand still fondly placed on your cheek, but you jerk him awake.

“No, Buck, not like this. Properly, let’s find you some comfy clothes and tuck you in. Come on.” You stand up, extending a hand to him. God, he looks so pretty from this angle, staring at you like you’re his sun and it’s a lazy picnic in the park. He entwines his fingers with yours, again bringing up that feeling of desperation in your system but you tamp it down. You gently hum the latest song stuck in your head as you get him ready for bed, slowly taking off his socks and handing him his comfiest pair of sleeping shorts, informing him of every step before you take it so you can give him the chance to tell you if you’re about to do something he doesn’t want.  What you don’t realise is that there is nothing you could do that he wouldn’t welcome. He knows you wouldn’t hurt him, only show him the gentle warmth he’s been deprived of for decades with your light fingertips and heavy gaze. You turn your back as he changes, giving him some privacy.

He doesn’t let you leave, scared you won’t come back to him. He’s never been like this, so desperate to keep you by him. You’ve only known each other a month, and you two often stay up together when he knocks after a nightmare, either diffusing the bomb in his head with mellow hands, or holding him tight as you both lose your worries to some old sitcom you introduced him to. In your heart, you can’t find yourself to leave, either. And so you use a spare toothbrush he keeps in his bathroom to get ready for bed, stealing one of his shirts he handed to you with the brightest, most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen. When you throw it over your head, you relish in the remnants of his cologne and something else, something so innately Bucky, that all you want is to bury yourself in his scent intertwined with the magic fabric of his shirt, which turns out to be loose on you. 

You set your hair, marvelling at how big he is, that his shirt is loose on every part of your body. A secret part of you wonders if he’s done it on purpose, intending to give you his clothes and opting for this looser fit…You quickly dispel the notions, ditching your bra and formal outfit on the floor, rubbing your tired eyes.

Bucky lays on his side, facing you and taking you in as you walk out. He lets out a groan and you wonder if it’s related. “You look so pretty in my clothes…fuck. Come back to bed, beautiful.” He outstretches his arms, making grabbing motions at you with his hands like an adorable child. You chuckle at his neediness and brush off the compliment as you settle into bed next to him, suddenly shy of the space in his bed you’re taking up. It’s been ages since you slept in the same bed as someone else…but you try not to dwell on it.

Bucky flips around immediately, sliding a warm arm around your waist and pulling you closer, eyes already closed. He’s so hot, practically a furnace when he pulls you in, like he can’t stand to be apart from you. What has the alcohol done to him?

“Good night, doll.” He rests his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His warmth is beautiful, and your glad his eyes are closed so he can’t see the absolutely wanting look plastered over your face, so deep it makes you physically ache inside your chest when you lift a hand to stroke through his hair, so soft like the sigh that escapes him. Like you soothe him, and it’s all he’s been waiting for.

“Good night, Buck.” Sleeps comes quite easily.

NEXT PART

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #x plus size reader #marvel

[hwallazia]

CHIHIRO – 정우영

synopsis . in which you finally let yourself let him go during a cold rainy night

pairing . jung wooyoung & fem!reader

genre . angst (way too much), lovers to exes, non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle | comment your username if you wanna be added to my permanent taglist! ♡

word count . 0,9k

DISCLAIMER! suggestive language (a lot of bad words in here), lots of manipulation and slyness from wooyoung, cold-hearted reader, slight violence (yn smacks wooyoung’s cheek), hints of cheating.

NIC’S NOTES ofc this is based of chihiro by billie eilish. the second i listened to this song, i thought of this angsty scenario. and so i thought it’d be a great idea to put wooyoung as the protagonist bc since enemies to lovers troupe fits him so well, why don’t do it backwards? ;))) alsoo, lowercase is intentional (yep, again)

“yn, come on!” wooyoung shouted as he ran towards you desperately; breath hitching, legs trembling. the only thing he could recognize within his visual field were the ends of your dark hair flying back in goodbye, your heart already very far from his. “don’t be like that. you know this isn’t the way to fix things up.”

your leather boots splashed against the puddles of water generated by the rainy dew that announced a great storm, your hands seeking protection from the cold in the pockets of your coat. you heard wooyoung’s wet footsteps as you saw his figure getting closer to you, alerting you. you stopped dead in your tracks when he forcibly grabbed your wrist, compelling you to look at him, to look at those pleading eyes that manipulated you so much. those goddamned eyes that changed your personality so much. “don’t you fucking touch me.” you huffed sternly, shaking your arm as you tried to escape his grasp, your eyes stabbing daggers into his heart. those merry, stunning, and beaming eyes were replaced by an opaque, lightless gaze. one he’d never forget. since when did you hold so much resentment and hatred for him that you saw him that way? as if you had never loved him. as if you had never felt anything at all.

he let you go the second he understood that you were capable of punching him in the face if he even touched a minimal part of your skin.“fine, i won’t touch ya,” he raised his hands up in surrender. but still he tried to explain himself, even though he knew that he was the last person you wanted to see at the moment, “can’t we talk about this at home? it’s freezing cold out here, and you’re wearing shorts-”

“since when do you care so much?” yes, he was right, your legs quivered as your despairing breathing made your lips release condensed clouds, but you wouldn’t let him know. standing as hard as a rock, you continued, ���don’t look for me neither call me anymore. i want nothing to do with you.”

wooyoung’s breath hitched and as he tried to pull himself together, he tried for one last time to convince you and mold your mind. “hey that’s a very hasty decision, don’t you think?” he paused briefly, his sigh exhaled right on your face, “yn, is this because of hana?”

the sound of her name sliding down his tongue was the straw that broke the camel’s back. after everything he had done, he really thought that this was just a little scene of yours? a little whim?

“no! it’s not because of her. it’s because of you!” you finally screamed, your heart winning over the pride that wanted to predominate in you. “you and your stupid manipulations, your excuses, and your fakeness.” your eyes threatened to water, but you wouldn't collapse. not now. “how dare you come after me and try to explain yourself after i found you with her sitting on your lap as you giggled at some of those weird ass jokes of yours.”

“oh so it is because of her,” he got closer to you, more than you would’ve allowed him, your lips being an absurd distance away. “why are you causing all of this when you could’ve just asked me?” his hand began to trail its way up to your cheek, and as soon as he cupped it, your hand slammed against his cheek loudly, pulling his figure to the left. the humidity of your hand and his face making the impact even more painful.

“you... disgusting little shit” your grossed-out expression being visible even for a blind man. “how could i have gotten involved with someone like you?” you sighed to yourself. a moment of silence drowned the conversation. wooyoung facing the ground as you stared sternly at him. but then, you decided to confess, “you know, at first i thought this was a fairytale, my most perfect fantasize. but turns out it was yours, not mine. definitely not mine.”

you resumed, “fuck, i was so blinded.” your palm landed on your forehead as you turned your body and faced up to the night sky, a couple of raindrops decorating your frozen cheeks, “this whole relationship was nothing but your slyness trying to mold my personality and mentality to your whim, wasn’t it?” you didn’t even give him a moment to respond, “who the fuck do you are?”

“yn. you’re hallucinating, my love. please, let’s stop all this nonsense-”

“i don’t even recognize you at all.” you spat, your frozen limbs welcoming an intrude, a strange warmness. maybe because you had said what was stuck in your throat for months. finally, you got out of that jail, that imprisoned manipulation that caused you vexation for so long.

“don’t say that. yn-” you observed as his eyes started to well up with tears, but it didn’t hurt you. not anymore. from one moment to the next, jung wooyoung’s existence stopped mattering to you. after such a long time, you became insensitive to those pleading eyes.

“don’t look at me like that. i’m not yours anymore.” you finally sentenced. “goodbye, jung wooyoung.” those were your last words to him so that you turned around and started on your way to, probably, your best friend's house, leaving behind a broken-hearted wooyoung, his eyes being similar to the thousand-yard stare as he watched the ripples of a puddle of water as the rain became heavier and heavier.

probably, you’d meet again in another life, or not. the emptiness you felt at that moment was unexplainable —you’d probably shirk it and letting your drunk self take matters into its own hands. but you were sure that jung wooyoung taking your love away from you wouldn’t be so easy to forget.

| masterlist

#hwallazia #ateez #ateez angst #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung angst #wooyoung angst #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung drabble #jung wooyoung imagine #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #Spotify

[amorgansgal]

So it's been a while since I've written any fanfiction (sorry RDR2 lot) but I've definitely been captured body and soul by Baldur's Gate 3 and I bashed this out this morning. I appreciate fully not many might read this as it does concern my own named tav, Vanya, and I just fancied doing a little creative writing. But if anyone does, hope you enjoy. It's from Astarion's perspective.

Gods, she was annoying

Gods she was annoying. Astarion gritted his teeth as somehow, despite the exhausting fight they had just been through and long day of walking, Vanya babbled on! Gale walked by her side, smiling at her observations on nature, the dinner they had last night, the gnolls they had just fought, her thoughts on whether she would keep her long plait or do something different with her hair tomorrow. Astarion had assumed that all elves were some form of stoicism or stillness, he and Halsin certainly were, but Vanya seemed all too keen to prove the opposite was true!

She scurried around camp, a giddy smile on her lips, greeting people as she went and they would infuriatingly beam back at her, which he was sure just encouraged her. It had taken them goodness knows how long to get out of the druid’s enclave because Vanya had stopped to chat with anyone and everyone, even the bloody animals! She’d almost been pickpocketed by one of the tiefling’s kids to boot because she had to stop to speak to the lad’s sister and Astarion managed to grab hold of the child’s arm before he could wriggle something out of Vanya’s pocket.

‘Really? I didn’t know there were many coastal druids,’ Gale’s comment to Vanya interrupted Astarion’s musings. 

‘Oh no, not many. It’s a bit of a strange calling, most elves like the forests or freshwater lakes or rivers, but we’re there! But I do like the forests too, there aren’t so many animals you can really adopt from the sea, I can’t keep a pet fish on my travels, though I did have a crab. He was very sweet, if a bit nippy.’

Gale’s laugh made Astarion clench his teeth. The greater annoyance Astarion had was somehow, for some unfathomable reason, he was beginning to like Vanya. She did everything seemingly to irritate him, launching herself into fights without so much as a by-your-leave, chaotically flinging around firebolts and laughing joyously as she did! She evidently, rarely ever thought a little tact, decorum and deception would go a long way to avoid a battle, but such things were impossible for Vanya if she thought someone was being wronged or hurt. 

And yet, despite all of her many faults and flaws, she was winning him over and he wasn’t even sure how or when she had begun to do so. Well, he knew what had triggered it, him telling her he wouldn’t sleep with her the night of the tieflings’ party. But the fact he didn’t find her desirable didn’t seem to bother her - she had gone round the entire camp flirting with anyone and everyone, leaving Gale flushed and Shadowheart wryly smiling and Halsin’s eyes following after her and even godsdamn Lae’zel looking at her differently. For him, she was too soft and round for his tastes. Round moon like face, messy red hair that swung behind her in its usual braid, freckles on her cheeks that put him in mind of someone splattering paint over a canvas, she did have beautiful blue eyes, he’d grant her that. And a fine neck. And he supposed that her body was… pleasing to most, but he wasn’t fussed by it. But in any case, it wasn’t finding her attractive that seemed to bother her, what seemed to niggle at her was him just not liking her. No one had to sleep with her, but she wanted everyone under the sun to like her. 

He thought she might learn what he liked, someone who bit back, who could be playful and sharp and acerbic, who might spar with him. But she didn’t, she just was… sweet and nice and kind and it was sickening. She’d rifle through an abandoned box or bag in the old goblin camp and find him a dagger or a lockpicking kit and exclaimed excitedly, ‘Oh, Astarion! This is perfect for you, here you go!’ She happily passed him a book on necromancy, though even that made Gale and Wyll sigh with exasperation. Astarion found himself talking to her about Cazador, admitting to things that he hadn’t told anyone else and- How in the gods’ holy arses had she done it? She’d just been her usual self and slowly worn him down. Was this how she did it with everyone else? Did everyone, who didn’t like her initially, get a concerted effort from her in winning them over? There must be someone who it hadn’t worked on, someone who still didn’t like her however much of a joyful, excitable pup she was. Astarion was tempted to hunt them down and demand they tell him how they resisted.

‘How is it Vanya that you have gone through life, adventuring and fighting, without someone taking advantage of your good nature and naivete?’ Astarion asked pointedly, making Gale and Vanya look around at him. Gale gave him a look and Astarion smirked back at him. Yes, your precious little druid is foolish and overly familiar and one day she’s going to get herself into a mess because she can’t keep her mouth shut or diving head first into situations where she isn’t wholly sure on what’s going on, Astarion thought to himself.

‘Hmm,’ Vanya said, because gods forbid she couldn’t even think quietly! ‘I don’t know.’

Astarion scowled. ‘You don’t know, what do you mean you don’t know?’

‘Do we really have to squabble before getting back to camp?’ Shadowheart asked. Astarion clicked his tongue with irritation. He would’ve thought that even Shadowheart would remain a little contemptuous and irritated by Vanya too, but somehow the druid had worked her charm spell on everyone and Shadowheart had long given up on being cool and sharp with her, except on rare occasions. Too rare for his liking. Only Lae’zel was left, his remaining ally, who would deride Vanya’s softer side. And even then, the githyanki seemingly enjoyed Vanya’s wild attitude when it came to fights. 

‘I guess people like me enough not to take advantage of me and the rest of the time it’s luck!’ Vanya said, turning back round to continue her conversation with Gale.

Astarion sputtered - which was the first time he had done such a thing, but how on earth could the woman be flippant about that too? ‘It’s just luck! No one has ever double-crossed you or used your good nature against you?’

Vanya pursed her lips in thought, then gave him a bright smile. ‘No, not yet. At least, not as far as I know, maybe they did and I just didn’t know about it!’

Gale burst out laughing and Vanya quickly joined him, though Astarion was sure she didn’t quite fully grasp on why such a thing was funny. Astarion glared at their backs and then at the ground. Godsdamn stupid druid with her stupid smile and stupid laugh and careless, thoughtless attitude and everyone in camp encouraging her.

‘You wouldn’t know half the time you had a parasite in your head from the way you take absolutely nothing seriously and waste time gadding about!’ he snapped. The laughter died immediately and while he kept his eyes fixed on Vanya, a tiny flicker of guilt crept into his stomach when he saw the small amount of reproach in her expression. 

‘I do take things seriously,’ she said, her voice suddenly even tempered and cool and measured. It had been what he wanted for weeks, but the tone of it felt wrong and so unlike her that he felt compelled to look away from her unfaltering gaze. ‘I’m worried about the tadpoles, i’m worried about all of you. It would kill me if anything were to happen to anyone here. But I spent a lot of my life not being able to laugh or find joy in things or meeting anyone new and getting to know them, and it’s no way to live, Astarion. So if I seem foolish or irreverent, it’s only because I don’t wish to wallow. I don’t wish to be serious and unable to crack a joke and make people laugh. And what is the good of being stoic and serious all the time? We are infected and there’s not much we can do to change that until we get to Moonrise towers. So I’m not going to sit in camp, feeling sorry for myself, languishing and getting upset when I can’t do anything about it. I may as well find joy where I can.’

‘Hear, hear,’ Gale said, and Astarion could have ripped his head off, but more because he felt… bad… for making Vanya feel bad. When she had spoken about not being able to laugh or meet new people, it didn’t sound like something she had chosen for herself or a malady affecting her in that way, it sounded like she was… coerced, controlled, ordered and he knew all too well the pain of that. Maybe she hadn’t suffered quite like him, but it sounded like whoever had done that had tried to crush her. 

The serious, sorrowful look on her face rapidly shifted and she smiled at him once more, though it looked a little forced and tired for once, and the guilt in his chest blazed hotter, tightening around his heart and throat. He was grateful they were so near camp and Vanya whipped round as Scratch (one of her blasted pets she had picked up) barked and came running up to greet them.

‘Scratch!’ Vanya cried happily and charged off, ruffling his fur and laughing as the dog licked her face and playfully bounced around. ‘I missed you! I missed you so much, how’s my good boy, my goodest of boys? You want to play? Come on, let’s go play! I left your ball in the chest, come on!’ The dog eagerly bounded after her.

Shadowheart left them to take off her armour and to wash, so Gale and Astarion were the only two left of the party who were still watching Vanya hunt through the travellers’ chest for Scratch’s ball. Astarion was about to make his way to his own tent when Gale caught hold of his sleeve.

‘Look, I know you don’t like her,’ Gale began.

‘I never said that,’ Astarion muttered, because the frustrating truth was he did like her.

‘But don’t hurt her in order to bring her down. She might handle things differently and sometimes her relentless optimism can be… a little much, but we need a cheery sort around camp. I think we’re all too serious sometimes. And I get it, someone will hurt her eventually and it might sour her and make her less willing to laugh and trust others, but I like her the way she is. So leave her be.’

And before Astarion could say anything in reply, Gale had already began walking over to join Wyll and Halsin by the fire, and Astarion didn’t know how to explain that he both couldn’t stand Vanya, but also liked her far too much.

#astarion #astarion x tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 astarion #gale x tav #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfic

[mj3llyfish]

Adam/Lucifer x dating headcanons 🦢(Separate!!)

French vocab: Mon cœr-My heart

Mon chère-my dear

A/n: Idk if I’ll do husk or Alastor anytime soon but comment if you want it ig, this song is so gorg pls listen

creds for dividers: kyejiz

Adam:

He is so petty about your relationship. Everything becomes a competition to him when he’s around other people in relationships

“Yeah so me and ___ went on a date to the park the other da-“ “OH REALLY??WELL ME AND Y/N WENT ON A DATE TO THE MOVIES. WE WATCHED GODZILLA THEN FUCKED IN THE BATHROOM, IT WAS BEAUTIFUL.”

He loves embarrassing you (you think??)

He also loves pda, he doesn’t care who’s watching, he’ll stick his tongue down your throat while Sera watches.

You guys are one of those lazy date couples, walks and theme park dates aren’t for you. So you normally have dates at home, watching movies, binging tv shows etc.

But in all seriousness, he does love you. He loves how you take care of him when he can’t, especially when he finishes another extermination.

He’ll come home drenched in sinners blood, while you grab a washcloth and wipe most of it from his face.

As said before, you guys are lazy date couples, so he loves when you help him wash blood off of him in the bath

It’s no secret that he has had his fair share of women, but ever since Lillith and Eve, most of them have been one nighters.

So when he started his relationship with you, he became kinda protective of you. You always have to reassure you that whatever male friends you have don’t wanna boombayah with you but nothing will convince him 💔

Lucifer:

He’s so unserious lmao, he’ll say random one liners whenever you two are making out.

“You’re so beautiful.. your mouth taste like a watermelon jolly rancher..”

“…a what?”

He REALLY enjoys giving you gifts, but sometimes it’s so random, like whenever he’s out with you he’ll just

“Wait a minute..”

“..?”

“What’s this spicy chicken sandwich deluxe doing in my pocket?”

“:0”

It was unexpected because Charlie clearly LOVES her mom, but she’s loves you too.

At first, you thought that she wouldn’t be the happiest person in the world since you’re dating her dad, but she actually really likes you.

At one point, she accidentally called you ‘mom’, you guys stopped talking ever since.

He loves taking you on romantic dates, dinner nights with petals all over the floor while you two eat gourmet meals are his favorites

He’s always the waiter too, he doesn’t want some rando getting in the way of you two!! He just wants it to be you and him ♡

omg and sometimes Alastor will just come in as the waiter to fuck with him, like

“How’s the salmon, mon cœr?”

“It’s really nice! Thanks fo-“

“more champagne?”

And it’s just Alastor and his yellow ass teeth

He gets so pissed 😭

His fav part about you is prob your hair, so he loves brushing it in the morning or night.

Brushing your hair soothes him so much, watching your strands of hair go between the bristles.

If French gets you going, then this guys your treat.

He’ll speak French during romantic moments, wether it’s dates while you guys are kissing, he’ll slip out a “Mon chère” and you’d get so flustered

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #viziepop #lol #x reader #idk #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #fanfic #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

[pricescigar]

The bodyguard Pt8

Elvira Wolff X John Price

Summary: The final act. For once and for all John and his old comrades along side Elvira, take doen Graves' once and for all.

CW: Breif description of violence

Death is something everyone has to live with, it could happen to anyone at any time. Price had been through many near death experiences, but he still couldn't shake off on what happened to him in the car crash. Hearing Elvira's screams before he fell unconscious.

Price struggled to sleep that night, there was something prodding in his mind but he didn't know what. His feelings for Elvira, wanting to eliminate Graves’. His midnight was clouded with so many feelings, he didn't know how to fully express them all. As an ex Captain of the Special Forces, he was used to all kinds of things and all feelings. Though he always bottled up his feelings in feetain situations, especially death.

Price laid his head near Elvira, wrapping his arms around her body. Hearing her faint breathing as she slept. It eased his anxiety and worries, he kept her safe and warm in his arms. The time was 2am, he knew he had to get some sleep soon. So he might as well try now… As tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Scared that he failed to protect her, scared of the fact that he almost died as well. It had been years since Price felt that kind of emotion, he turned his body slightly. Now laying down beside Elvira, watching her sleep soundly. It brought a sense of calm around him, he knew she was okay. Happy, healthy and well. It reassured him. But to fully know that, Graves would have to die.

This was the last thing Price wanted to do, to finally kill Graves. He should've done it earlier, when he had the chance to, all those months ago before he had left the SAS… But that's a different story. All he wanted to do right now was to finish the job. Graves was still a threat to Elvira's safety, and he wanted him eliminated immediately. Price knew from the back of his hand, he went back to Phillip Graves’ hideout with his men, hiding away like a coward.

Soap, Ghost, Gaz and Price himself alongside Elvira banded together, arming themselves to the teeth to finish this off once and for all. At an undisclosed location, they all gathered to where Shadow Phillip Graves’ safehouse was.

“Security seems tighter than usually is.” Soap scoped the place out with binoculars, he had his Sniper beside him. “I'll stay right here and take out as many men as I can.” He left the binoculars aside.

“He's scared shirtless, that’s why.” Ghost simply commented a small scoff left his lips, that was all he had to say really. He got his knives ready and put them in his pocket.

Price nodded in agreement. “Good idea Soap, we'll all split up, Ghost you'll stay in the shadows as always, you do your thing.” He said, to which Ghost nodded.

“Gaz there is an entrance where it's unguarded, head in there and if you see anyone take em’ out with a knife, Elvira and I will join you on the other side. He stayed silent for a moment.

“Nikolai will collect us with his helo soon, we'll just have to survive until then.” He added, looking at everyone else.

“Right…. Good luck.” Price spoke. They all nodded to each other, getting to their designated positions.

Price made sure Elvira was extra protected, of course he didn't underestimate her. But the love he had for her was more powerful than anything else, he made sure the bullet proof vest was tight enough around her body.

“You ready?” Price spoke softly, looking down at her. His eyes softened when seeing her, he always kept saying to himself: ‘please let her be okay during this mission.’

“Of course.” She smiled softly, they pressed their foreheads against one and another before Elvira nodded.

Since Gaz was going in one entry, Elvira and Price headed into the other entrance on the opposite side. Soap had no problems taking the men down quickly while they were on patrol, and Ghost peered into the darkness and used his knives to take the soldiers down.

Following Price into the building Elvira remained beside Price, keeping her pistol beside her.

“See more reinforcements Price, Ghost and I will deal with it.” Soap spoke over comms. “We'll get 'em’ off yer back.”

“Thanks Soap.” Price replied through the comms.

The dead bodies piled up bit by bit, whenever they tried to sound the alarm they were quickly killed by a bullet to the head, a Knife to the chest. You name it. The last thing they wanted to do was for the alarm to be raised, and more reinforcements would be at the ready.

Of course Ghost was frearvie with his killings, especially when it came to his knives. Some were planted in some of the soldier’s head, eyes, and even visible big scars that could be seen where had cut through the fabric.

Price knew Ghost from way back in his army days, Ghost was known for his interesting ways of torture and interrogations. And ways of killing his enemies, to a point Price respected him for it. He always got the job done.

Elvira heard a voice in the distance, a familiar southern accent, she immediately knew it was Graves. She gently tapped Price's shoulder, signalling to where Graves was.

Price nodded in agreement, he held up his M4 and walked towards the door. The voice of Graves became louder each time they got closer to the door.

“I need evac, right now.” Graves spoke, he stared down at the laptop. He was speaking to General Shepherd.

“You made a big mistake messin’ with the Wolff Family Graves, especially where Ulrich is concerned. You're lucky he didn't do anything more severe.” Shepherd's voice was stern. Clearly disappointed in Graves’ recent actions.

“Makarov wanted her, I did what I could to make it happen. Of course I didn't want them to find out it was me, hence why the cartel got involved.” Graves slammed his hands down on the desk.

“But then her bodyguard had to get involved of course, Makarov's going to have my head for this.”

Eventually the conversation ended, but now this was the perfect time to strike as Graves’ was vulnerable now. Which Price originally wanted in the first place.

“This ends now Graves.” Price quickly burst through the door, aiming his pistol at him. Elvira quickly followed and entered as well.

Graves heard Price's familiar voice, he quickly got his pistol out and aimed it at Elvira. The bullet struck her in the chest and she fell down to the floor.

“Elvira!” John was about to tend to her but he had to focus on Graves, he needed to end this once and for all.

“See John? All of this would've been easy if you would've let me just do my job.” Graves commented, aiming his pistol at him now.

“What the hell does Makarov want from Elvira?!” Price gritted through his teeth, he kept his gun aimed at Graves. “Answer me!”

Graves chuckled. “Why should I give a shit? He made me do this, and I wouldn't want to question it anyway.” He shook his head. “Would rather keep my life in tact, than fall into the wrong crowd again.”

“Bullshit, you're not telling the full story.” He still kept a firm grip on his pistol. “There's more to this…”

“Johnny we got a situation, I see Price and Graves but no Elvira. Keep that scope of Graves’ head at all cost.” Ghost spoke through the comms.

“Got ya.” Soap quickly got into a high position at the watchtower, he got his Sniper ready and lined up the optic to Graves’ head.

Soap watched the situation unfold, just in case things would get ugly. Which they quickly did, Graves lunged towards Price. With Soap's quick reflexes, he pulled the trigger.

The piercing noise rang in Price’s ears. Graves' lifeless body fell on top of Price, he quickly pushed him off of him. Looking at him with distain.

“Fucking bastard.” Price spat at him, and was finally able to focus his attention on Elvira who slowly woke up.

“You're okay… You're okay…” Price would finally breathe, hugging her closely and he slowly exhaled. She wasn't injured thank god, the bullet proof vest kept her safe, he thanked himself to make her put it on.

“Ja just about… I'm okay…” Elvira was almost thinking that Price would also be in danger…Yet Price rescued her, once again. Her Knight in shining armour.

Price smiled and he kissed her head. “Let's go back home okay?” He said, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I can check your chest properly then, hopefully you won’t have internal bruising from the bullet impact.” He gave his signature smile.

Everyone met up outside and they left the premises together, Nikolai met them and picked them up by helicopter. Leaving the bodies as they were. Knowing now that this mess was finally over.

Elvira had fallen asleep near Price, her head on his shoulder as she slept soundly. Seeing her like this made him smile, she was finally safe. Mission accomplished .

Though, he knew at the back of his mind. Graves was right about Makarov, whatever he wants… He always gets it. And he will have his revenge, but… For now everything was in solitude.

For now at least.

"So Price..." Soap started to speak. "What did Graves say to you in that room?"

#cod #call of duty #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #john price #captain price #cod oc #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #johnvira

[devil-acid]

oooooo to be a closeted transman in a family who is lowkey transphobic

vent on the tags lmao

#like my family is not that type of “trans is a sin” or blabla #but they really do comments out of pocket #like making fun of nonbinary people #which really scares me when I start doing my transition #its obvious they are going to start making fun of me #and saying stuff like “o but you were so pretty when you were a girl" #so I really been thinking cutting ties with them #which I dont really want to because I stll appreciate them #its just... I already have enough with dealing my internal transphobia and how shitty its this world to trans people #I dont want to add to the list “people I love start making fun to me” on the list #cutting ties just seem more eazy to do #not my mom #she is green flag... I hope #sorry for the vent #im in a family reunion and they bring up the topic and made me think about my trans identidy and my future again

[pocketramblr]

Dash simulator

Blog 1: lol anyone else seeing a lot of strawberries in new recipes now? sometimes its fun but i really dont get the appeal of adding it to everything. why did you make strawberry garlic bread

Blog 2: u kno im not a fan of strawberries, i really like the rich sweet and sour notes from oranges, oranges and chocolate is such a good combo. i altered a recipe for a smoothie with oranges last week and it was soooo good ill give you my notes if you want Reblogged by: Blog 1: ahaha yesss i love chocolate and oranges

Blog 3: I canNOT believe the hate im seeing to strawberries right now, like, you know guys know the rule don't like don't bake right?? you know you can hit the back button right?? honestly what's wrong with yall

Open draft- wait guys you know there's a difference between leaving a comment on a recipe saying you hate strawberries and the recipe writer should never use them, and going to your own blog to say you don't really like strawberries, without naming any specific people or recipes right? you know there's a difference right?? - Save - Post - Discard

Draft discarded

Blog 4: why is everyone jumping on the strawberry hate train right now. what is wrong with you. Reblogged by: Blog 5: I knowwww like guys some people stop baking because of reading things like that, please stop it, if you don't like strawberries you can be quiet about it

Open draft- im so sorry if anyone's getting sent mean messages or comments about what they're writing and baking, but i'm literally not seeing any of that and if you are, please use the block button. but someone making a post on their own blog is not that, and if you can't see the irony in you being allowed to complain on personal blogs but not them i can't help you... - save- post- discard

Draft discarded

Blog 2: are strawberries even in season?

Blog 6: woo cherry pie!

#trying so hard to be a blog 6 rn #im discarding those drafts #but clearly it has been too much for me as this one is getting posted #like i really am sorry if any. strawberry antis are directly being rude to anyone #that isnt ok #but i have seen zero of that on my dash or in the tag #i saw a few blogs saying lol they don't like strawberries #and then i saw a ton of blogs saying how dare there be any negativity at all #and seeming to act as if those blog posts were specifically about disliked fic authors i mean recipe makers #which... if any of them were... i didn't see it because of how i blocked large swaths of the fandom like three years ago #when i realized that it was determined to blow up a discourse topic every single month #and if there are people doing that. please. do what i did. block en mass #if you open a recipe that turns out to have strawberries in it and you cant hit the back button but instead leave a nasty comment that is a #you problem #but also if you see a random blog post about someone saying they dislike strawberries- hate strawberries even- and you feel personally #attacked and start crying about how now you never want to bake a strawberry shortcake again and they're so mean #that is also. a you problem. #'what fandom is this pocket' dont worry about it #not one i have any mutuals in #which. considering the mass blocking and the annoying chronic discourse explosions. perhaps is not surprising

[anxiously-sidequesting]

#wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #dyvim whitehart #my polls #polls #personally i think he just flirts whenever the mood strikes him. and he flirts with anyone who doesnt piss him off #IDK WHY this isnt even me being thirsty like usual for some reason i just get that about him #he makes the most out of pocket comments to and about people anyways. i bet he has no issue with laying it on someone jokingly #but thats the thing i dont think he really means it in a ''i want to marry you way'' but in like a- #''im a little bit interested in you/you entertain me'' sort of way #but he doesnt do it to be fuckboy-ish thats just who he is #i can totally see dyvim winking at a pretty burrower lady that serves him at the burrower pub #((and i dont blame him the burrower women are PRETTY))

[snow-and-saltea]

yesterday i spent 45 minutes of my life watching a video essay criticising the use of cheap shock values and crossing of taboos for a video game and i went from "he has a point even if he's explaining it in a really inflammatory way" to "oh umm... i can see how he thinks that way even if i don't agree" to "oh this guy's just straight up using people on tumblr as material for an audience to get mad at like other outdated people on the internet. nvm he's just an asshole"

#yuu rambles #it was about the coffin of andey and leyley btw - i agreed w him on the first half of the video about how it felt rather noncommittal to it #concepts and themes but i recognise its not really *trying* to be serious which means its not a reasonable #framework to judge the intention and execution of its work - an apple pie does use butter in it but just bc it does #doesnt mean you get to compare it to steak; a dish that also uses butter. this is intuitively easy to understand for me #but nonetheless it was like 3 am i had stuff to do so i just put it on my background to listen #he makes a diss at “people on tumblr” early on that i just raised my eyebrow at but shrugged it off bc its such an old joke #its lost its zinger; and im p sure its just confirmation bias from going into the tags of the thing you dont like lol if you use tumblr #normally you wouldn't come across things you dont like bc you'd have blocked them. But Anyways #then at the end he got sooo self righteous about how people on tumblr are insane and weird and showed screencaps about how twisted everyone #who likes the game are. there were some screenshots of people's post that were like “incest is bad and shouldn't be explored in media. #paragraph break‚ me who is an incest survivor and finds it helpful for working through my trauma: lol” #those types of post. but then lmfao he started going out of pocket and just mentioned the lists of other people he doesnt like which are #a screenie of a video essay about how kink is important at pride #and then some other stuff i dont remember anymore w the tumblr screenies #it was very mockingly written and said and at the end of it i felt sad i couldnt #block people on youtube lmao. like its not i dont want this guy to comment on my videos. i dont want to see his channel involuntarily #recommended to me ever again. just resorted to the most base sort of trolling behaviour he accused and judge other game devs for in his #video essay. good fucking god. the psychological projection is unreal #i dont have any strong feelings towards the game at the end of it even though i thought i would be like Eugh at first #but my bleh for any cheap gimmicks is overshadowed by my disdain for this guy's reliance on self righteous rhetoric #i discovered another new channel i really like tho after that vid!! bc i had to watch smth else to cleanse my palate lmao #they're jacob geller and freddydude! ive only seen one vid from freddydude about his essay on #detention‚ the horror game set in taiwan during the era of white terror under new cn leadership after ww2 #im personally quite jumpy so his humour and the way he edits his videos to make it silly even though its Scary #made me like it a lot!! im going through jacob geller's other vids but ive watched three specific types of terror #and the one about pinocchio which made me go :00 wow his scripts are super good! #again everything at your own discretion esp w the whole james somerton shit‚ but i enjoyed what I've seen so far #i just wanted to end this in a somewhat positive note JSHDKSJDJD the ramblings Continue... #theres a pedantic error in one of ky tags but im gonna update it when im on comp bc mobile sucks smh my head

[keitheaverage]

welcome to my hot new game show, "Was That Online Comment Made About Tack the Cobbler, or Popular Twitch Streamer Jerma985?"

#my point is that nobody on the internet knows how to be normal about either #they really do just be silly little guys doing whatever #which gives them the insane natural ability to pull in some of the most out of pocket comments known to man #I think Tack would do the Whopper Andy bit except have it not be a bit that's just his real reaction to eating a cheeseburger

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

ring pop proposal ♡

fem reader, pure fluff, childhood friends to lovers lemme alone do not perceive me yk the drill by now, lil self indulgent fic cus i love childhood friends to lovers and puppy crushes, polar opposite’s trope, this reeks of my oc x canon katsu ship sooooo shh shh do not perceive.

the first person who realizes katsuki has a crush on you is his mom because when she comes to pick him up one day from kindergarten he suddenly mentions you. it’s an innocent little interaction he had with you that mitsuki doesn’t think much about at first, simply surprised her son managed to befriend someone outside of his little group of friends until he starts mentioning you more and more.

soon you’re the only thing he talks about and katsuki even starts begging her to have you come over to play. mitsuki is extremely curious to know what kind of person you are to have been able to enchant her son the way you have, she says it’s fine as long as your parents agree.

you’re a sweet little thing, almost the complete opposite of her little devil’s spawn. you’re polite and a little shy when you ask “ is it okay if i come to play at katsu’s house, please miss katsuki’s mom ?” and how could she say no to you ? she pulls at your cheek lovingly and her son almost snarls at her.

“no touchin’ !” he snarks, pulling you against him like you were his teddy bear.

mitsuki was the first to realize her son had a crush on you when you were always around. when he found something cool during a class trip you were there and whenever he was upset it was always because you had argued about something irrelevant that seemed so much bigger in the eyes of a child.

she realized because katsuki had, and in some ways, will always be rowdy. he’s rough and temperamental and moody—basically, he can be quite the brat. (she wonders where he gets that from a lot) but he’s different with you.

he’ll always be a little rough around the edges but it’s the thought that counts. he drags you around a little too hard but it's to show you something he knows you'd like and you repay him by being patient with him and letting him drag you around to his hearts content. he let’s you use the crayons he’d just denied another classmate seconds ago and when it’s really early in the morning and you’re still sleepy unlike your more energetic friend, he waits for you. sitting with you in the reading corner quietly commenting on a little bit of everything in the book you’re sharing until you’re awake enough to start the day because katsuki wanted you to be together through anything no matter what, starting the day without you was simply unimaginable.

you offer him your kindness and he repays you with his loyalty. acting like your guard dog, protecting you from everything and everyone he considers a threat to you. he goes a bit overboard but it’s the thought that counts and he’s definitely got the right intentions.

“ i’m g’nna marry yn when i grow up !” katsuki proclaims from the backseat of the car after mitsuki had come to pick him up. she looks at him through the rear view mirror only to see he’s not even looking at her, looking out the window somewhat longingly, watching as his school fades away from his sight, further and further and further away from you. she smiles to herself.

“yeah ?” she asks “yeah !” he responds proudly, crossing his arms “ i asked yn if she wanted to be my wife an’ she said yeah, so we’re gettin’ married !”

“huh. how’d you propose ? you don’t have a ring.” she jests.

katsuki responds immediately and exclaims he does have one, shuffling around to reach for something in his pocket. he pulls out a plastic ring pop holder, the candy on top is missing and mitsuki can imagine what happened to it.

“gave her one of these !”

“so that’s why you had me buy those from the store last time,” she hums. “ you ate it, though.”

katsuki tries to roll his eyes but just ends up looking up and to the side, mitsuki recognizes it as him trying to mimic what she does a lot and she snorts.

“well duh, we both did ! ‘f i kept it in my pocket it woulda gotten gross !” he defends. mitsuki simply responds with a hum, smile on her face growing larger as she hears her son happily chatting about the rest of his day with you.

she knows her katsuki is hard to handle. extremely so. but when she sees the way you both interact she can tell something is there. you don’t ‘handle’ him. you like being around him. you like playing and talking with him, she sees how happy you make him whenever you come over for playdates. he holds your hand when you get scared and you hug him tight and beam when you see him again after he’s gotten over a nasty cold.

she can tell you make her son happy and he does the same for you in the way children do with pinky promises and shy cheek kisses, kisses over tiny wounds and refusing to be separated whenever the rowdier one of you both gets his recess time taken away for being naughty.

mitsuki hopes this crush, this love you have for her son can grow along with you. she hopes you’ll stick around as katsuki grows up more and potentially more rowdy and rougher around the edges but even more enamored with you. and with the way her son is squirming around in his seat and tugging at his seatbelt, giddy about you accepting his ring pop proposal, she has a funny feeling you’ll be sticking around for a long time.

#another childhood friends one whats new #can you tell this is my fav trope teehee<3 #Idk if you can tell but it is #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo fluff #you can take this as a prequel for like two of my childhood friends to lvrs fics lololol