#okay I’m fully aware that technically they were still not the best people but they should not have been dragged down cos jace is a shithead

[daveinediting]

Okay so it's tonight.

Each team gets its marching orders and writers all over the city get to work.

Me, I'm still working myself into a particular headspace to help me best manifest a horror film through shot choice, sequencing, pacing, color grading, and sound design.

Pacing, believe it or not, has got most of my attention so far. Gimme a few graphs and I'll tell you why...

You see yesterday I took a trip down memory lane from DC horror comics books to "The Exorcist". And there's a lot in there that provided for seriously unsettling experiences.

When it comes to jump scares, of course, nothing beats a haunted house. And the various ones I visited over the years, yes, scared my socks off. Especially the one in underground Seattle with chainsaw dude... and the one that used to be at the bottom of Queen Anne Avenue & Denny with what I was sure to be something horrible banging on the cell door.

Now, while those are pretty serious scares, deep inside you know it's a well-crafted performance.

You're also experiencing it with a bunch of other people.

With that in mind, we now travel back to the most truly terrifying experience of my life.  These are my jr. high years, in Boy Scouts, at an isolated camp in the woods 15 miles north of Monroe, the foothills of the Cascade Mountain Range.

It's the end of our one week stay there and all of us, the entire camp, are congregated in the main building for our last night together. It's a bit of a last day of school vibe and, instead of yearbooks, we all have the official camp photograph featuring all of us and the camp counselors. So everyone's signing each other's photographs and I realize that I've left mine back at the cabin. Technically, an Adirondack because the middle of the fourth wall features a fireplace with open entrances to either side. 

Open to the woods, basically.

Now I really really really want people to sign my photograph... so I head back to get it.

Here's the thing.

It's fully night out. And by "night" I mean the only light in the entire camp is in the main building right now. Everywhere else is pitch.

Black.

No joke.

I've got my flashlight with me and head out into that pitch blackness. That absolute darkness.

At first it's no big deal because in front of the main building is basically a parking lot.

It's only when I reached the edge of the parking lot, the beginning of the forest, the serious forest, that I realized my problem.

Narrow path.

Woods closing in on all sides.

Middle of the night (it wasn't... but it felt like it).

Battery running out in my flashlight (I made that one up on the spot).

And an axe murderer running loose out there.

Somewhere.

My problem, of course, isn't that any that’s true other than I'm in the forest at night with a flashlight.

Yeah.

My problem's my imagination. Years of DC horror comics, Alfred Hitchcock, Edgar Allen Poe, and scary stories from my transistor radio under the bed covers had prepared my imagination for a moment like this. 

What moment?

Well, a moment fraught with so much unknown. After all, all I could see was in front of me. Anyplace illuminated by my flashlight. 

Which wasn't much.

And in the absence of not knowing what lay beyond that, my imagination sought to fill in the blanks. Especially when it came to any sound coming from the woods beyond my light.

However.

Whatever it was my imagination was conjuring (aside from the axe murderer)...

It wasn't sharing that information with me.

I was just being filled with foreboding. I was being filled with dread. From head to toe. And my senses were jacked. All the way up.

It was not fun.

I felt completely alone in the deep dark woods with something out there.

And anytime anything new entered my awareness like the sound of leafs cracklinging or a low hanging branch come suddenly into view...

It set off even more foreboding. More dread. And an ever heightened effort by my senses to sense something.

In that state, then, is how I made it to our cabin, our Adirondack. Which is its own dreadful experience. More than walking in the woods alone, simply approaching this structure in the middle of the night definitely feels like I'm the star of my own horror movie. Because of course there’s something terrible in there. Of course it's in there waiting for me. Quietly. Still as death.

And wherever I pointed my light... it feel like I just missed something. As if I pulled the light away just as something was about to enter it. As if I pointed the light at a place where something just was.

You see, with my senses fully maxxed, it feels like there's always something... barely outside the edges of my perception.

And those openings to either side of the fireplace? The ones without doors? Yeah. Just about anything from the woods could've walked through there... even just now when I’m not specifically looking.

Yeah.

I can’t go in there.

I can’t.

Somehow, though, I manage the equivalent of jamming my hands to my ears so as not to hear anything. I basically shut out what my imagination's shouting at me. I manage that for the bare minute it takes me to dash in, grab the photo, and dash out.

Out in the woods, again, of course, my imagination's back in the driver’s seat. No sense of victory for me having achieved my objective, I’m filled once again with foreboding and dread. My senses trying to make sense of all that I can’t see or hear. Yet actively nterpreting the ambiguity of what I can see and hear and smell and feel. 

Even a slight breeze seems like it means something.

Oh good grief.

It's in this jacked state of anxiety that I finally set foot in the parking lot, making sure to quickly create distance between myself and that forest edge lest arms reach out to grab me at the very last moment.

Yeah.

I was relieved like no one in the history of the world has ever been relieved.

Relieved to finally walk back into the light.

And into safety.

You and I both know I was never in danger back then.

But.

Even had I known for a fact that were true at the time, that there was, in fact, no danger... I would still've felt what I felt.

Because the unknown works that way. Our senses work that way. Our imaginations...

Always working overtime to fill in the void.

😱😳😬😵

#48 hour horror film project #seattle #editing #creative strategy #memories #dc horror comics #alfred hitchcock #edgar allen poe #hp lovecraft #horror radio #the exorcist #stephen king #jump scares #horror #haunted house #camp brinkley #camp edward #cascade mountains #terrified #frightened #scared #alone #alone in the woods #darkness #imagination #active imagination #very active imagination

[madlilsongbird]

STOP! Pete and Corey made the right choice 🥺

They were good.

Stupid Jace

#manifest spoilers #manifest #manifest season 3 #manifest nbc #okay I’m fully aware that technically they were still not the best people but they should not have been dragged down cos jace is a shithead

[nat-20s]

fill of @jonmartinweek day 6 prompt- flirting AND jealousy, though much heavier on the jealousy than the flirting. Set in a classic “season 5 jmart time travel bac to season 1″ au

~*~

“Mr. Blackwood-Sims, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re trying to proposition me.”

“Mr. Sims-Blackwood, I would never. For one, neither of us are inclined towards those sorts of activities, for second, we’re both married men. What would my husband say?”

“I believe your husband would say he never specified exactly what you were propositioning, and he would be more than amenable to kissing, preferably sometime in the next few seconds.”

“Mmm, suppose I’ll have to find him and take him up on that, then. If that’s really how he feels.”

“Trust me, it most certainly is.”

Christ, would those two shut up already? Granted, it’s late enough that they probably think they’re alone in the archives, but, still. This is, technically, a work place, and Jon would’ve preferred not to have accidentally gotten an eyeful as he made his way past the open door in the breakroom. Now, the image of (supposedly) a future version of himself sitting on the couch, with (supposedly) a future version of Martin straddling his legs, using one hand to cup his face, and the other to run his hands through that Jon’s longer hair, was seared into his mind, and he hated it. Look, contrary to what people who don’t know him very well seemed to believe, he’s hardly a prude. He’s more than fine with descriptions of physical intimacy, as well as public displays of affection. If he’s being honest with himself, deep down, he doesn’t even care all that much about professionalism, especially considering it is after hours.

But of course, he’s not being honest with himself, because then he’d have to admit that it bothers him that it’s them. He doesn’t know what to call the acrid burning in the pit of his stomach, the too tight ache in his chest, that’s present whenever the fun house mirror versions of himself and Martin are besotted with each other, but he knows it’s there. It doesn’t help that he’s the only one that seems to be bothered by it, the only one that frowns at the flash of wedding rings or the orbit those two always seem to occupy around each other.

Or, no, he’s not the only one. Occasionally, while witnessing the two of them being...the Two of Them, he can’t help glancing over to Martin. Lo and behold, Martin also doesn’t look thrilled about all of this, usually skewing more towards confusion or, oddly enough, resignation. At least, that’s what Jon thinks he sees there, it’s one of the few times where he can’t fully get a read on Martin.

Still, as much as Martin might share in being somewhat perturbed, as anyone who meets their “future selves” should be, Martin doesn’t seem nearly as upset as Jon is. That brings him back to his current predicament of feeling that level of upset, but not being able to determine the root cause of it.

It is not that he’s jealous. It’s not! He does not feel a pang of envy at seeing someone who looks extremely similar to himself loving openly, and being openly loved in return. He doesn’t find his thoughts drifting to the imagined feeling of lips pressed to his temple or arms around his waist or fingers running through his hair. He certainly hasn’t looked down at his left hand and been disappointed by the fact that its bare. He doesn’t even want those things, as he’s been telling himself for a number of many lonely years. One of these days he might even believe it.

Fine. Fine. Maybe, but only maybe, there’s a part of him that’s jealous. Maybe there’s even a part of him that despairs, because try as he might he can’t connect point A to point B, can’t see the steps he would have to take to be like that other version of himself, and he knows his Martin (well, not his Martin, but..) will never look at him like that, will never see him in that light. And, damn it all, it hurts, so if they could kindly stop ru-

Oh. Wait. He can’t hear them outside his office door anymore. Huh, perhaps they-

“Knock knock.”

Startled out of his...contemplation, Jon looks up to find himself looking back. Sims is leaning against the door-frame, with mussed hair, swollen lips, and pupils blown wide. Jon loathes him and wishes to be him in equal measure. In a move he usually would’ve thought more characteristic of Tim, Sims doesn’t wait for a response, instead sitting himself across from Jon and saying, “Figured you’d still be here.”

Trying not to sound too much like he’s speaking through gritted teeth, Jon asks, “Did you now?”

Sims gives a lackadaisical shrug. “With any luck, you’re not going to become me. I not sure you can become me, at this point, diverging paths and all that. However, we do share the first 28 years of our lives, and I certainly didn’t believe in the concept of a work life balance, so why would you?”

“Is there something you wanted?”

“Yes, actually. I want you to ask out Martin, your moping is getting insufferable, and considering how much of our misery has been entirely outside of our control, you shouldn’t put up with what is in your power to fix.”

Jon blinks. Jon processes. Jon stammers. “I-what?! I am not, you can’t just-. Martin doesn’t even like me, and if you really were the same person as me, you know I’m not all that keen on him either.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you can’t stop thinking about his hands?”

“I do no-”

Sims puts a hand up in surrender, though the smirk doesn’t entirely drop. “Sorry, sorry, I know that’s rather unhelpful. What I mean is, you’re already loved, right now, as you are. No, that love is not coming from Martin, but it could be,t because he doesn’t dislike you.  He doesn’t know you, because you have done everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t. You also don’t know him, even though you’re interested in him, because you’ve been trying not to be. It’s stupid. Get to know each other. It’ll probably work out.”

“I...is that how you did it? Because this seems like an objectively terrible idea.”

Sims snorts. “God, no. It took a coma before I was able to untangle my own feelings. The whole point is that you won’t have to take the same looping, painful path that I did.”

Jon wants to reject it outright, almost does, and yet. “Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes, really. Why?’

“Nothing, just. We’re usually a more stubborn on these sorts of things. I was expecting more of a fight.”

“Mm. Normally, I would be, but I’ve been forced to watch two rather obvious proof of concepts waltzing around in front of me, and agreeing will hopefully get you the hell out of my office.”

Sims studies him for a moment, then a surprised smile spreads on his face. “All right then.”

Jon makes a dismissive hand wave, and Sims obliges, and he spends the rest of the night trying not to think about what he’s agreed to.

~*~

The next day, about half an hour before the end of the work day, Jon calls Martin into his office. From his tight shoulders and carefully blank expression, it’s clear Martin very much does not want to be there. Great. This is going to go so well.

Jon gestures for him to sit, Martin does, and he dives in. “As we both now know, I don’t have the ability to fire you. In all reality, even though I am, on paper, your boss, I truly don’t have any power or authority over you.”

Martin leans back in his seat, letting a heavy pause fall between them before saying a stilted, “Okay?”

“So, I want you to know that I am about to ask you a question, and you have complete freedom and choice over your response, without fear of any negative consequences. Alright?”

“Um. Sure.”

Jon takes a breath, slowly lets it out, and bites the bullet. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?”

Martin stares. Then he squints. Then he studies. “Oh. Jon, you...we’re not them, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“So..why?”

Jon lets out a sigh, and tries to gather his thoughts in a way that makes sense to either of them. “Well, though I myself have some trouble with the concept, they’re not..entirely removed from who we are, and there’s enough foundation there that I have reason to believe we might...get on? Maybe we don’t, maybe we end up being friends, maybe we end up like them. That’s already enough to pique my own curiosity, but, alternate future versions of us aside, I mostly would just like to get to know more about you, and I’m hoping you might like to get to know me better as well.”

Martin’s shoulders relax, and he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before replying, “Okay. Yeah, why not?”

“Oh. Oh! Great! Does this Saturday work for you?”

“Works perfectly. Let’s give a shot.”

The first date is..fine. A Bit of a mess, but fine. The second date, however, is the best Jon’s ever been on. It’s so wonderful, in fact, that he doesn’t even mind when he catches Blackwood passing a fiver to Sims the day he can’t stop smiling at work.

#jonmartinweek2021 #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #tma #the ending is literally 'we wouldn't be compatible without trauma' 'oh bet?' #ALSO GOD THIS IS SO LONG FOR A FICLET HH

[hxseok-honee]

sundress || part 17

written portion under the cut!

sundress [part 17] || the jealous girlfriend card

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : [and it's hard to keep my cool // when other bitches tryna get with my dude] streets x doja cat

taglist [open] :

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___________________________

Thursday, 21 October, 5:08pm

“I just want to know what you were expecting to accomplish with that--”

“I regret coming back to talk to you.” Yoongi laughs with his entire body, bending over at the waist to put his hands on his knees as Y/n approaches him. With a roll of her eyes, she’s handing him the coffee she’d bought him, almost tempted to drink it herself now that she’s seeing how much fun he’s having with her embarrassment.

He’d been waiting for her in the Entrance Hall, a smirk gracing his features when she’d turned the corner and made eye contact with him. It had taken everything in her power not to turn right back around and go upstairs to her room.

“I’m sorry for laughing at you, it’s just -- I’ve never seen you be so impulsive. I was hooked.” He leads her out of the castle and through the courtyard, Y/n almost tempted to cover her face in embarrassment at the memory of the events that had occurred here no less than two hours ago.

They cross the grounds, making their way to a small bench down by the lake. They aren’t alone, small groups of friends sitting in the sand and strolling along the shore all around them -- but it’s a private enough spot to talk. Yoongi sits down with a sigh, waiting until Y/n’s seated next to him to scoot in toward her, one arm around her shoulders as he sips at his coffee.

“So? Start talking, Loser. I wanna know everything.” Y/n rolls her eyes, because this feels like an interrogation and she’s not entirely sure she has the answers. When she doesn’t respond, Yoongi looks at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You know I’m fully aware that you weren’t just acting out of the good of our ‘relationship’, right?” She keeps her eyes trained solely on her lap, picking at non-existent lint on her pants while she thinks.

“I dunno -- I’ve just never really seen you hanging out with other people before.” He smiles, because that was vaguely insulting, but he finds it amusing mostly because it’s true.

“That’s fair… but she wasn’t some random girl, Y/n -- you know that I know her -- that was Selene? We’re not close, but we share most of our classes.” Y/n nods, having seen the girl around Slytherin common room before. She’s also aware that this is someone Yoongi talks to regularly -- not often in person, but Y/n’s seen him texting her frequently enough to remember her name. She doesn’t want to admit that might have something to do with how she’d reacted, but Yoongi’s already seeing it in her face.

“You know we text mostly because we’re both really bad students and we need to share notes a lot?” Y/n nods again, feeling dumber by the second. Yoongi only sighs. “Can you please say something?”

“She’s pretty.” It’s the only thing that comes out, no explanation offered afterward. Yoongi purses his lips to hide his smile, turning to look at her.

“You’re prettier.” She rolls her eyes, hating that she’s unable to stop the corners of her lips from turning up, because Yoongi’s objectively cute when he’s being gross and cheesy.

“I didn’t say that so you could compliment me.”

“But I did, anyway.” They’re quiet for a moment, people-watching all the clusters of students around them as they think of how to continue this conversation. And then Yoongi’s leaning forward, setting his elbows on his knees and staring out at the lake as he passes his coffee cup back and forth in his hands.

“You’re not worried, are you?” It’s quiet, mostly lost in the wind, but she catches just enough to know what he’s really asking -- if she still trusts him and his commitment to her, no matter how fake of a relationship this is.

“It’s not you I don’t trust, Yoongi.” He looks back at her, eyes serious.

“Then?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes before gesturing discreetly out to a group of 7th years not far away. He looks over at them, finding that two of the girls are whispering to each other and glancing in his direction every few seconds. He can’t help but smile, because Y/n is genuinely annoyed by the constant attention he gets, but he hasn’t noticed a thing since they formed this little arrangement. And he always noticed.

Unable to resist teasing Y/n and lightening the mood, he sits up, leaning back against the bench and scooting in until he and Y/n are huddled together. He tilts his head in her direction, whispering conspiratorially to her.

“What’s the problem with a couple girls checking me out? The entire school thinks we’re together, so they know I’m taken.” She leans in similarly, her voice laced with irritation.

“That’s the problem. It’s like everyone’s just watching us and waiting for you to be single again.”

“Okay, but I’m not single, and I don’t plan on being single for a long time -- they’ll get bored of watching eventually.” He reaches out and takes her hand when he says it, pulling it into his lap and threading their fingers together. When he looks, the two girls are still staring, gossiping to each other as they gawk at his and Y/n’s joined hands. He sighs softly, because now he’s understanding why Y/n’s so bothered.

“Alright, it’s a little annoying.” She snorts humorlessly next to him, and he’s turning to her with a smile, trying to calm her. “Any way you can just ignore them?” She nods, reassuring him that she’s fine, even though it’s technically a lie. She’s not going to be able to ignore them, but she can do her best to get used to them.

She feels bad, if she’s honest -- it’s not like it’s Yoongi’s fault that he’s still getting attention even after this month or so of being in a fake relationship with her, and she’s fully aware that he’s not once even glanced at another person. She feels like she’d taken her insecurities out on him today, entirely on impulse, when he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey.” Her eyes flick over to him, and she sees that he’s watching her, a knowing smile on his face. “Look at you -- you look so guilty.” His eyes have that teasing glint to them again, but she’s feeling too embarrassed to play along, so she looks away, pouting out at the lake while she tries to figure out how to apologize. It only makes Yoongi more fond.

“I’m sorry I pulled the jealous girlfriend card… you didn’t deserve that.” She doesn’t see Yoongi’s smile growing, too stubborn to meet his eyes again.

“So you were jealous.” Immediately, she’s turning to him, eyes wild.

“No? I was not? That was just the act I was doing.”

“So then what were you feeling?” He’s openly mocking her now, wide smile on his face while he looks at her playfully. She huffs once in annoyance.

“I don’t know -- insecure?” The smile drops from his face at her response -- he hadn’t been expecting something so candid.

“Insecure…?” Y/n turns away, face warming at how seriously he’s looking at her. It’s embarrassing. This conversation is embarrassing.

“Hey.” Yoongi squeezes her hand, and her eyes flick quickly to him and back again. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut down like that.” Knowing she’s being unreasonable -- this is Yoongi, after all -- she turns to him, grimacing when she sees the reproach in his eyes.

“It… feels like no one’s taking our ‘relationship’ seriously. That everyone thinks I’m just… your temporary plaything.” Yoongi blinks, shocked. He’d barely even noticed the people staring at him, so the realization that Y/n’s been thinking about this long enough to have come to such an unsettling conclusion… it bothers him.

“Have I… given you a reason to feel temporary?” He knows the answer. He knows she’ll say no. But he can’t help but need the confirmation. He needs to hear it, or else this is going to eat at him.

“No-- Yoongi, no.” He’d been looking away when he asked, but he’s pulled aggressively back to her, so he turns his head to meet her eyes. She’s frowning deeply, upset that he’d even ask. “It’s not you, I swear. You’re perfect.” He can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips at the unexpected compliment. She pushes further, drawing that playful smile out of him again. “I promise it’s not you. Never you.”

She’s so cute, he thinks, because she’s looking at him like she’d do anything to get him to believe her, and that alone eases any anxiety that had been crawling up the back of his neck. He bites at his lip in contemplation, blinking back at her and pursing his lips with amusement when her frown only worsens with his silence.

And then he’s leaning in, pressing his lips to her cheek and staying close to her when he pulls away.

“I don’t like it when you’re focused on other people. Just look at me from now on.” Eyeing him carefully, Y/n nods, but he can tell she still feels guilty, because her pout hasn’t gone away. With a fond smile, he slides his free hand to the back of her neck, pulling her back in.

His kiss is soft and easy, like he’s in no rush to pull away. It makes her heart flutter, because she knows why he’s done it -- she knows he’s still aware of the girls watching them, that he’s trying to ease her mind with a display that’ll solidify to everyone watching that he’s taken. That he’s hers.

When he pulls away, he lingers near her, nudging his lips forward into hers lightly a few more times until he sees the ghost of a smile on her features -- and then he’s planting one more full kiss on her lips, because that’s the one that’ll bring out her smile the most. The one that reaches her eyes and makes her nose crinkle with embarrassment. He likes that one a lot. Only when he sees it does he back off, leaning away to look at her with a fond smile. She nudges him with her elbow, because he’s being really cheesy right now and she hates that it’s so endearing to her.

“You’re an idiot.” He nods easily, humming pleasantly at her assessment.

“Yeah. I am. But, lucky for you, I’m your idiot. No one else’s.” With a roll of her eyes, Y/n’s pulling their joined hands into her lap, playing idly with Yoongi’s fingers while they fall into comfortable silence. And then she’s snickering, thinking back to everything they’d talked about. He hums with interest as he reaches for the coffee he’d set down next to him on the bench some time ago.

“You know, you called me ‘baby’ a lot today. You never do that.” He blinks when she says it, realizing that he had in fact said it a lot while they were texting and on Twitter. With a tilt of his head, he’s looking at her.

“I guess I did… maybe I knew something was up with you. I’m feeling really soft for you today.” Y/n scoffs at him, rolling her eyes. Someone passes by behind them, and she wonders how they must sound when people overhear them — probably a lot like a real couple.

“I feel like… we had this entire conversation like two people actually dating.” Yoongi lifts a brow, remembering how this whole talk had gone as he sips at his drink, now lukewarm. And then he’s chuckling, because she’s not wrong.

“We’re nothing if not convincing.” She smiles, nodding along. They leave it there, only staring out at the lake together, not even realizing that if they’d just continue this conversation, they’d probably end up somewhere dangerous -- in a place where things would change. Or maybe they do realize it, and they’re just not ready to change. Maybe they like it here a little too much, and they’d rather stay a while.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“I actually really liked the jealous girlfriend card.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… It was kinda hot.”

“… I’m leaving.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts texts #bts hogwarts au #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi texts

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut

[hisui-cotton]

Here are my thoughts on the genshin outfits. It is what I typed up on my twitter with some added stuff I wanted to say but didn't have the space to, bc threads are hard.

Its only being fully enforced within China, which I kinda expected sooner or later, but it's still kinda disappointing that people's reactions are just "So what about future sexy outfits?? Will they now be censored??" Like? What do you mean now be censored? They're not even out. If Mihoyo was really so reliant on fanservice outfits then I doubt it'd actually be as interesting of a game as it is, no need to think they cant work within censorship. You can't even be aware of the fact that this is like a minor thing within the world of ccp and that it could become a bigger problem to other portions of gameplay or story telling in the future. You just see the desexualization censorship and think "But what about future sexy?" And the changes are actually nice, mihoyo is definitely trying their best to go about the changes to make it as pleasing and character fitting as possible. It will be disappointing when a character that actually has a sense of sexual enpowerment ever comes along because she likely won't be able to actually feel sexually empowered. It unfortunately happens that all of this, all the unsexy changes, also fits what a lot of female players have been asking for within the spectrum of "gaze" and is being done by the enforcement of censorship.

It's a bittersweet kinda change, knowing that there were some views of a portion of the player base finally getting recognized but it had to happen under the circumstances of a developer being politically censored to make over extensive changes. Amber's changes are practically nonexistent meaning it was probably enforced because of technicalities and Mona's feels a bit strange in general where she's wearing like a short body suit rather than the sheer tights, which also feels like it's almost more of technicality enforcement as well. But in between that is obvious updates to the models which are needed as well, there are more details and the designers are definitely trying to keep an interesting design within the limits they're being forced to hold.

And it is totally okay to say you appreciate the outfit changes when coming from a view outside China. You're speaking as someone who wanted the change not because of the purity of a political and societal image, but as someone who has seen plenty of oversexualized characters in video games and just wants a few less. I know people were so half and half on rosaria when she was released, where people didn't like the fishnets or that she didn't really look like she had anything to do with the church, and then the other side pointed out how it actually fit her abandonment or rebellion of the church so that was point. But I feel the middle ground found in the redesign is actually quite nice. It's more obvious she's still technically a nun, but she has her flair with a split skirt and thigh high boots, she is a rebel with a cause. And Jean's is fair as well, it fits well with attire of other guild masters and personally gives her kinda a "hot lady in a suit" vibe.

If changes come for male characters also, I won't be surprised. It's there that I have to make sure people understand on both sides why the censorship is much more broad then censoring sexy or graphic content. China recently had some laws regarding "feminine male characters" to which I'm sure could be enforced in the future on Venti. Theres much more to these changes than "no more future sexy?" or "Less male gaze" mentalities, it could very literally affect some of the things that make genshin so inviting to many people or make it such a big step forward in video game development.

Overall I hope that it doesn't become something for mihoyo that is breaking thier back. In thier apology to cn server players, it was really obvious they were disappointed in having to make the changes, and I'm sure in some part because they were breaking new ground for Chinese developers. Even if they were breaking it really lightly. If the enforcement gets even worse, in that it quite literally effects story, I'm sure there will be many people who just give up rather than try to give the support mihoyo and other Chinese developers need. There may not be much we can do outside of China, without people in China speaking up for change, but if it ever happens please remember to support them in the pursuit against censorship, not just in video games but in the many aspects of life.

#genshin impact #Genshin #longpost

[blossom-hwa]

You Look So Lovely, Darling (I’ll Love You for Lifetimes) - |BaL|

Kinda feels weird to be writing the proposal scene so early, but like? This drabble series is all out of order so whatever lmao :) enjoy some sweet nervous channie who just wants his proposal to be perfect <3

(and again, thanks to @deathbykpopboys​ for helping me work out this scene!! I LITERALLY owe you the world if you ever have ANY requests I'll be willing to write them :D)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, slice of life, single parent!au

Triggers: cursing

Word Count: 2.9k

Chan just wants to give you a picture perfect proposal - why is that so hard?

SKZ Masterlist | Breathe, and Live | Touching Stars (TBZ teacher!au)

Proposing, Chan comes to learn, is no easy task.

It looks so simple in movies. One of the couple pulls a ring out of their pocket, kneels down in front of their significant other, and pops the question. There might be tears, but it always ends in pure joy.

Movies make it seem like a formula, a simple algorithm that Chan just has to follow in order to get this proposal right. In real life, though, Chan thinks he’s about to lose his mind.

Because movies don’t demonstrate how to act in front of an older brother very protective of his sister. They don’t show him how to talk to his children or hers, how best to ask them if they’re all right with gaining new siblings and a new parent. They don’t give him insight on how to pick the perfect god damn ring, something maybe reminiscent of the promise rings you both wear on chains around your necks, but also not too similar because what if you think he isn’t being creative?

And the worst thing is, they don’t tell him how to pick the perfect moment. They don’t tell him where to go, what ambience is right, whether or not little kids in the room will ruin the timing.

At this point, just thinking about proposing turns Chan into a stammering mess. Even though you’ve discussed marriage before, you haven’t made any large moves beyond that. Jisung and Felix have been calling you Mama for a bit, but Hyunjin has only just started calling him Papa, and mostly on accident (though each time he does, Chan’s heart fills with this overwhelming happiness that brings tears to his eyes). What if you decide now isn’t the right time? What if you decide you want to wait a little longer?

What if you decide Chan isn’t the right person for you?

That’s a question that plagues Chan every time his mind even brushes on the topic of marriage.

He loves you, though, he loves you so much. And he knows you’re the right partner for him, even if in the end you might decide he isn’t the right partner for you.

Patience, he tells himself, taking a deep breath. He really should be working on this new track, but instead, he’s staring into his hands, trying to map out the perfect proposal. Not too fast, Chan. Take it in steps.

The only problem is, step one scares him out of his wits.

. . . . .

Chan is a full year older than Minho, and then some. By all rights, he’s the elder, and he shouldn’t be as terrified of the younger man as he is.

Minho’s a scary person, though. He’s driven, concentrated, focused – it’s how he’s gotten so far as both a dancer and a father. Chan knows he’s hardworking, but Minho is just as much, if not more, than he is.

And he’s very protective of you.

(When Minho found out you two were dating, he told Chan, verbatim, “I won’t hesitate to take you to international waters, chop up your body, and toss the parts overboard if you hurt my sister.” Just thinking about the blank expression Minho had on when he spoke those words is almost enough to make Chan lose his nerve.)

But here he is, standing just outside of Minho’s studio, ready to knock. He’s sweating, not because it’s hot or anything (it’s actually pretty cold because Minho is weird like that), but just out of sheer nervousness. His heart feels like it’s pounding a mile a minute.

Oh, God. Chan raises his hand again to rap on the door. Stop thinking. Just do it.

He knocks.

A few seconds later, the dancer opens the door in all his sweaty glory. “Chan?”

“Yeah.” Chan tries to smile, but he’s pretty sure it just looks like a grimace. “Can I ask you something?”

A glint comes into Minho’s eyes. “Of course, come on in.” He opens the door widely, smiling in a distinctly cat-like fashion that is literally scrambling Chan’s brain.

Why does he look like he knows what Chan’s about to ask?

The door swings shut with a soft but audible click, and with the noise goes Chan’s last chance to run away.

“So?” Minho looks over once Chan’s inside the room. He’s enjoying this way too much.

There’s no way he doesn’t know what I want to ask.

“I… um, so I’ve been dating your sister for a few years,” Chan starts.

Minho actually snorts. “Yes, I’m aware.”

Chan can feel the tips of his ears turning bright red. “Right. Um, I just wanted your approval for – I’m planning to – well, with your permission, of course –”

The smirk on Minho’s face only grows with each stuttering word that comes out of Chan’s mouth. And in all honesty, he actually has no idea what he’s saying. All of the sentences he rehearsed in his head before coming here seem to have completely flown out of his brain, and from Minho’s expression, he just sounds like an idiot.

He keeps going anyway, because nervous Chan doesn’t always make the best decisions to make himself look good.

“Well – um, look, I just really love her a lot.” Chan looks down with the admission, knowing he’s definitely rambled too much already, but he needs to get on with it and ask the stupid question. “I… wantedtoaskifyouwouldbeokaywithmeaskingtomarryher.”

Minho leans forward, eyes innocently wide. “Sorry, I didn’t get that, can you repeat what you said again?”

Lee Minho, you are a grade-A asshole.

Face burning, Chan clears his throat. “I wanted to ask if you would be okay with me asking to marry her. Your sister, I mean.”

Silence. Minho leaves him in silence for five whole seconds which feel more like five millennia. Chan thinks he’s going to crumble into dust on the floor out of terror and embarrassment.

“Do you have a ring?” Minho finally asks.

Chan’s cheeks burn redder. “Not… not yet.”

“So you’ll need help picking one, then?” The dancer raises one perfect eyebrow.

“… Yes?”

“Beautiful. I’ll be there whenever you need me.” Minho smiles. “Anything else you wanted to ask?”

Chan just stands there, dumbfounded. “So… is your answer yes?”

The smile immediately drops off of Minho’s face, replaced by an eye roll and a sigh. “Yes, Bang Chan, you idiot.” He punches Chan’s shoulder. “No one’s ever going to fully deserve Y/N, but you’re the closest I think anyone’s going to get. You really thought I’d say no?”

Rubbing his arm, Chan smiles sheepishly. “You can’t blame me for being nervous.”

“What? Nervous, around me?” Minho laughs, sharp and loud. Even though Chan knows he’s teasing, it’s still a bit frightening. “Never would’ve thought that.”

“You’re just proving my point,” Chan says.

“No, I’m not.” Minho smiles, close-lipped and slit-eyed. It’s terrifying. “Now, off you go. And don’t come back unless you need help picking a ring!”

It takes Chan five minutes of sitting in the hallway, garnering strange looks from several people passing by, before his legs are stable enough to take him back to his own studio. Heart still pounding, he mentally crosses a line through step one.

Next comes step two. Chan purses his lips. Step two is a bit less scary than step one (mostly because it involves children and not Lee Minho), but no less challenging.

Well, he got through Minho. Chan sighs. He just has to hope that the kids will be as receptive to the idea of a new parent as Minho was to a brother-in-law.

. . . . .

The kids know that you and Chan are at least, in some shape or form, together. They might not understand the nuances, like how you’re technically dating but don’t always refer to yourselves as boyfriend and girlfriend (because it just feels so much deeper than that, somehow), but they understand that you two “like” each other (Jisung pretends to vomit every time he hears the word “love,” so Chan just uses the word “like” to avoid that) and thus live together.

They love it, most of the time. Hyunjin was a little put out when he found out he would have to share a room with two other boys, but after Minho moved out and Hyunjin realized he would get his uncle’s old (and slightly bigger) room, he happily accepted the new plan. Jisung and Felix were mostly just happy to live with their best friend.

(Children, Chan just thinks. They’re so easy and so hard to please.)

Of course, there are difficulties. Jisung’s sensitive and has more than once broken down when he thinks Chan isn’t giving him enough attention with a new boy in the household. Felix’s tantrums are rarer, but they exist, and Hyunjin is still getting used to sharing his mom with someone else.

They’re a family, though, a messy, mostly happy family that can pull together at the end of the day and whisper “I love yous” to each other before bedtime. And that’s something Chan values more than anything in the world.

Which is why obtaining his kids’ approval for officially tying the knot is something so important to him.

He gathers them together one day in the apartment with the promise of watching a cartoon show after he asks them something. Three pairs of big eyes stare up at him from the couch, and Chan feels his heart melting with love and racing with anxiety.

Chan takes a breath. “Do you know what marriage is?”

“Yeah!” Jisung pipes up. “It’s when a girl and a boy get together and kiss!”

The laughter spills out of Chan’s mouth before he can even think. “Well, not quite, Jisung,” he chokes out, trying to stifle his remaining giggles. “It’s when two people who love each other very much get together officially. Marriage can be between a woman and a man, a man and a man, or a woman and a woman. Any two people can get married.”

Three small heads bob their heads in understanding.

“I wanted to ask you three if you would be okay with me marrying Y/N.” Chan looks each of the boys in the eye. “Is it?”

Felix nods quickly. “Yes!”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. “Are we still going to live together?”

Chan smiles. “Yes, Sungie.”

The other twin nods. “Okay!”

Hyunjin’s mouth pouts slightly. “Will I have to call you Papa?”

A little piece of Chan’s heart breaks, but he tries not to show it. “No, of course not, Hyunjin.” He smiles as brightly as he can. “You can keep calling me Channie or Uncle Channie or whatever you want. You don’t have to call me Papa if you don’t want to.”

Hyunjin’s round, dark eyes gaze into his with a solemnity Chan honestly didn’t know toddlers could have. “Do you want me to call you Papa?”

Oh, fuck.

What the hell does Chan say to that?

With a sigh, he decides to be honest. “I would love it if you did, Hyunjin, but like I said, you don’t have to. I’ll never force you to do something you really don’t want to.”

There are a few seconds of silence, then Hyunjin nods. “Okay. You can marry my Mama.”

A weight lifts itself off of Chan’s chest and he smiles, freer this time. “Thank you, kids. One more thing – don’t tell Y/N about this!” He looks into each of their eyes, trying to convey how serious he is but in a fun way. “It’s a secret, okay?”

“Like a spy mission?” Jisung bounces in excitement.

The smile on his face widens. “Yes, Sungie. Like a spy mission.” He looks at the other two boys. “Do you promise? Pinky promise?” He holds out his pinkie.

The three resulting shouts of “YES!” make Chan hope their neighbors won’t come knocking. But even if they did, Chan thinks, he wouldn’t care.

He’d go to the ends of the earth to defend these three kids, after all.

. . . . .

Step three goes by in a flash. Out of sheer anxiety, Chan actually takes a full day off from work and calls Minho for help in finding the perfect ring.

Miraculously, he finds something within his budget range – a silver band with a small diamond set in the center. It’s simple but elegant, and the diamond glints beautifully in the sunlight. Really, the ring matches the way Chan often finds himself summing up your existence.

So only the last step remains: the actual proposal.

Looking back, Chan has no idea why he thought each of the other steps was so stressful. This is pure stress, he thinks, waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. Should he plan something extravagant? Or should he just go with the flow? When is the perfect time, anyway? What constitutes “perfect” in your mind? In his?

Minho just tells him to wait for the moment he thinks is “right.” But what the hell does “right” even mean?

“You’ll figure it out.” The dancer gives Chan a bright grin, patting his shoulder. “And if you don’t, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”

Chan just puts his face in his hands and screams.

. . . . .

When Chan proposes, the sky is dark. The kids are already tucked in bed, and you’re sitting on the couch, leaning into his shoulder as you mindlessly scroll through your phone.

Absently strumming his guitar, Chan smiles down at your face, illuminated by your phone’s glow. As if sensing him staring, you look up as well. “Sing me something?” you murmur.

“Of course, love.” He leans down to kiss the top of your head. “What song?”

“Anything you choose,” you reply. “Anything.”

Chan thinks for a moment, then starts strumming the instrument.

Softly, with mood, tightly hug her

Use it once a day, every day…

When your eyes meet hers, smile.

The characteristic chords of one of your favorite songs make you relax even further into Chan’s body, a smile blooming across your face. He badly wants to stop playing and just kiss you good and full, but he keeps his fingers strumming the guitar.

Let her breathe under a different sky, a different wind,

Sometimes, kiss her without a plan…

Chan almost stops playing.

Without a plan.

He doesn’t have a plan. He doesn’t have any proper plan on how he’s going to pull the little box out of his pocket and ask the question. But now…

Maybe he’s got an idea.

The final chords die away, and Chan finally gets his long-awaited kiss when you sit up lethargically, pressing your lips to his softly. “Are you awake enough for one more?” he whispers when you pull away.

“Mm, one more.” You nod happily, snuggling back into his side. “Then sleep.”

Chan takes a breath. One chance, Chan. This is your chance.

His fingers start strumming a song very familiar by now to him and the boys. From the way your eyes light up, you recognize it too.

It doesn’t have words. It’s just a collection of guitar chords, hastily arranged in a sweet, rough melody. In the track version, it would have piano, but because Chan only has two hands, he has to make do with just the strings of the guitar.

It’s the first song he ever wrote for his twins, the song he created that day so many years ago when they weren’t even born, when they were still kicking in their mother’s stomach. They think of it as their family song, the song he plays when the twins are sad, when they can’t get to sleep, or when they just want to hear something nice.

The last strains of the song fade away and Chan looks at you to see a tear glittering on your cheek. “You play that when the boys are sad,” is all you say. “It’s your family song.”

Chan smiles softly. “But you’re part of the family too.”

When he pulls out the box, your eyes widen. “Chan –”

“Shh.” He presses a finger gently to your lips. “Y/N, the past few years you’ve been with me have been some of the best of my life, and I can’t ever thank you enough for staying with me all this time.” There’s a tear welling up in Chan’s eye, but he blinks it away. “I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would marry me.”

There’s a moment of silence that nearly gives Chan a heart attack. What if you say no?

“You – you stupid romantic sap.” The tears are really sliding down your cheeks now, but your mouth is smiling wide. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Chan. I’ll marry you.”

Chan can’t speak as he slides the ring onto your finger with trembling hands. Throat choked, he can only pull you close, burying his face in your shoulder as your tears soak his shirt. “I love you so much,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough for to see your eyes sparkling with love, so much love. Your touch intoxicates him, with your fingers pressing gently against his skin as you press your lips to his in a sweet, sweet kiss.

Yes, he thinks. You’re the right partner for him.

The perfect partner for him.

Teary-eyed, he smiles. “I love you too.”

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 congratulations for the newly engaged couple!!!)

#inkidz #destinyverse #kpopscape #stray kids #skz #stray kids chan #chan #skz chan #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshots #skz scenarios #stray kids chan scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids chan x reader #skz chan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #fluff #triggers #cursing #single parent!au #breathe and live #you look so lovely darling (I'll love you for lifetimes) #scriptura-delirus

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 152

I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...

Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.

That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.

“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.

I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”

She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”

“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”

Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”

“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.

Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”

As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.

I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”

My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “

A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”

Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”

Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.

Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”

“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”

Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”

I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”

“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.

“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.

“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.

“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.

Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”

“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.

“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”

Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”

Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”

“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”

Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”

“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”

“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”

I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”

“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”

Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”

“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”

“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”

“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Fiiiiine…”

Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”

“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”

“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”

“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”

“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”

Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “

“And Kink Night!”

“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”

“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 5

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

+ Minors DNI 

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My lids felt heavy as I struggled to open my eyes to the bright room. The furniture in Hitoshi’s room becoming clear as my vision cleared, and I could take in all my surroundings. A very silent and stoic Mr Aizawa standing by the door, arms crossed, his face unreadable. I pulled the blankets up, becoming aware that I currently only had one of Hitoshi’s shirts on over my underwear. Something I was comfortable showing Hitoshi, but not so much the Erasure Hero.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice deep and even though I knew he wasn’t accusing me of anything I still felt like I was in trouble. Guilt still seemed to be the only emotion I could manage.

“I feel fine. I didn’t have much to drink at all last night.” I answered, trying to laugh off his question.

“Even though I’m not thrilled about the underage drinking, I think you know that isn’t what I meant.”

I knew what he meant, my head dropping to my bare thighs where I fidgeted with the hem of the shirt. Memories of last night came flooding back and I couldn’t help but cringe at the feeling. The feeling of being overwhelmed with all those emotions, feeling things that I wasn’t meant to be feeling.

“I- um, I’ve got it under control now, I’m sorry about what happened last night. I should have um- I- It’s all my fault.” I barely got out before a tear ran down my face.

“Y/N. What happened wasn’t your fault, you and Sen are both almost adults and weren’t doing anything wrong. I think there was just too much alcohol and not enough communication which was the cause of the outburst. Don’t blame yourself for the actions of others.” Mr Aizawa said lowly, walking over and sitting on the desk chair across from me. Despite his gruff exterior, he was one of the most noble men you had ever met. Also, one of the best heroes.

“Um, did… Todoroki. Is he okay?” I asked, heat rising up my neck and making its way across my cheeks. My body betraying me and my intentions of trying to come across cool, calm and collected.

“He went to shower; he didn’t leave you at all last night. I’m sure it was quite cozy with all 3 of you in here last night.” Aizawa stated, standing, and making his way over to the door. He stayed? Why? What could Shoto Todoroki gain from laying on the ground like a dog and guarding me? Was he worried that I was going to have another meltdown and his ice would be able to help?

“Put on some pants, come downstairs. Everyone was worried about you, and they made breakfast.”

“I have to go finish some paperwork because Bakugo and Denki decided to defend you honour last night. Noble but stupid.”

My eyes widened; they really did that for me? I wanted to smile but thought it best to wait before the teacher was out of the room.

When the door clicked, I jumped up and found some spare clothes that I kept here. A pair of leggings that covered my bare thighs and a sweatshirt that added warmth to my cold body. I thought it best to have a quick look at my appearance before leaving the room and scaring any students. Knowing that sometimes my hair could be exceptionally large and in charge. Pleasantly surprised that someone, I would guess Hitoshi had taken off my makeup, and left a thick hair tie on the corner of the mirror, the tie perfect for restraining the small afro that had started to form on my head.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I left the room and headed to the direction of Todoroki’s dorm, wanting to thank him for all his help. My body moving before my mind could decide this might be the worst decision I had ever made.

                                                            *

The knock on the wooden door seemed to echo throughout the hall. The only noise in the empty hallway.

“It’s fine, just say thank you then leave.” I said to myself. Eyes closed and breathing in heavily. My anxiety through the roof. Caught between wanting to thank Todoroki for all his help but also never wanting to see him again because the last time I did, our faces were inches apart and I was hysterically crying. On the verge of an actual mental breakdown.

“Leave? You only just got here.” The voice shocking me out of my thoughts. My fidgeting hands stopping by my sides and going completely still. Maybe if I didn’t move, he wouldn’t notice me, and I could make a quick escape I thought to myself. My eyes still looking down at my feet, seeing Todoroki’s bare feet opposite mine.

“I hope you don’t think that if you stand still, I won’t see you.”

Feeling defeated, I looked up slowly. Taking in the sight before me. There was Shoto Todoroki, still dripping wet from the shower, towel hung low on his hips. Almost everything on full display. His whole body was toned and clearly built to be a Pro Hero. I didn’t think I had seen anything so sexy. The muscles of his body clearly from all the years of training.

“I- um. Thanks.” I choked out, trying to keep still, my eyes travelling up and down his body. Wanting to take it all in, knowing that I’d never be seeing this again.

“I told you I could see you naked.” I said quietly, recalling the conversation we had in my workshop. Wanting to relieve some tension. A hearty chuckle leaving his lips and reaching my ears.

“Do you want me to drop the towel? Technically I’m not fully naked yet.” He said back, voice flirty and lighthearted.  For a second you forgot the awkwardness you were feeling moments ago and laughed. His hand coming out and resting on your elbow.

“Are you okay?” He asked, the mood shifting again, becoming serious. His hands still firmly on me, warm to the touch. I hardly knew him, but he was comforting, his presence very quickly becoming one you didn’t know if you could live without.

He was charming, funny, smart and dedicated. All facts you had learned from him being in your workshop every afternoon for the past week. Both of you learning about each other, casually flirting and making jokes with each other. He had definitely come along was from the little first year who thought that if he smiled people would die.

“Thank you, seriously. I’m glad you were there.” I said honestly. Not sure what would have happened if he didn’t find me and help me get a hold of my quirk. The thought of feeling all those emotions for any longer making your stomach drop and fill with dread.

“You also didn’t have to stay with me last night, I know those cots aren’t too comfy.” I said, playing with a stray curl that had fallen out of the tie awkwardly. You felt bad for him really, you knew how small and not suited for someone so tall and broad they were.

“I wanted you in my room but Shinso took you off me. I didn’t want to let you go.” He admitted lowly, dropping his head and bringing it down next to my ear. His breath warm on the side of my face. My cheeks heating up, stepping back and out of his grip.

He looked sincere, his eyes honest as I looked into them, but I couldn’t fall for it. I wanted to believe him but deep down I knew how people really were. I knew that I couldn’t let anyone else in.

My friendship quota full, no matter how wet and handsome they currently looked standing before me.

“I’m going to wear you down Y/N.” He almost whispered, stepping out of his room to make up the space I made between us. His body pressed flushed against mine, the water from his torso wetting the material of my sweater. His hand came out and played with the bottom of the sweater, toying with the material between his fingers.

“Wear me down? Don’t say it like it’s so easy.” I admitted, looking up but not moving back. Our bodies, still pressed up against each other.

“I like a challenge.”

“I’m nothing like any of the villains you’ve face before.”

“I’m excited to find out just how different you are.” He said lowly, small smile on his face as his hand shifted under the sweater and rested on my waist, his other hand coming up and resting on my cheek. Holding me in place.

“I can feel it, this wall you have put up. From a past heart break or family drama, doesn’t matter. I’ll learn soon enough. Just know that I’m going to break it down and you are going to want to be with me just as badly as I want to be with you.” He stated so surely, his mouth inching closer to mine, his breath fanning my face. Stopping short of our lips touching, Todoroki shifting and kiss the corner of my mouth, right on the cheek.  

“We should go get some breakfast. Give me a minute.”

Without another word Todoroki turned and went back into his dorm, closing the door slightly to get changed. No, evidence on his face about what had just happened, or almost happened. Definitely the opposite of me who was beyond flustered, cheeks red and a little turned on.

                                                              *

The common room and kitchen looked different from when I saw it last. The couches were pushed back together, no empty bottles littered the floor and the space was completely bare of drunk teenagers unlike how it was when I left last night.

“Girl… so how are you feeling?” Mina asked, sitting next to me scooping food onto my plate.

“I have never been better; I feel so good about everything in my life right now. So balanced.” I said, looking over at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Sarcasm isn’t real humor extra. If you feel like shit you should just say it!” Bakugo said from the other side of me, nudging me with his arm. I had already thanked him for last night, feeling honored that he would stick up for me like that whereas Denki’s thanks would have to wait until he decided to emerge from his room.

“You have no reason to feel shit by the way. He is a fuck. He deserved the punch he got.”

“Not that I don’t agree with you, but I definitely think I should be held accountable for some of it. I mean he wouldn’t have acted like that if we weren’t sleeping together.” I stated, shrugging my shoulders and scooping food into my mouth.

“Just because you guys had sex doesn’t mean he can touch or talk to you like how he did. Once a dickhead always a dickhead.” Bakugo said back, sipping his tea.

You had to agree, the situation you were in last night had scared you. Watching Sen act like that startled you and reminded you that anyone was capable of anything under certain conditions. Before you could reply two large hands came down on your shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Morning Y/N, sorry about last night. Sorry I couldn’t be there to help.” Kiri said sadly, concern clear in his tone.

“Where were you last night shitty hair?!” Bakugo yelled.

“I was with um Aiko… and Kameko and um whatever her twin sister’s name is.” Kiri said nonchalantly, scratching the back of his neck and sitting down in one of the spare seats at the table. I almost choked on my coffee, the fact that Eijiro Kirishima was casually talking about having a foursome over breakfast blowing my mind.

“Dude, you are my hero.” Mineta said, practically drooling as he looked at the red head.

“How do you even make that happen? What do you say?” Mineta asked.

“I do this thing called um respecting women and being a top guy. Something you clearly haven’t grasped.” Kiri said, slapping Mineta’s hand away that was held out for a high five. Bakugo chuckled to himself, turning back to his food as Mineta still probed Kiri for details. Which the latter absolutely didn’t divulge.

The mood felt nice. Comfortable. I was grateful to call these people my friends and know that we could talk and be like this together. As I looked around I didn’t miss Todoroki who kept his eyes firmly on me, which he seemed to be making a habit of and Momo, who had her eyes fixed on him

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha x reader #mha #mha smut #todoroki x reader

[todomitoukei]

hii! may i ask you a few questions about japanese since you speak it and i’m currently learning it? you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to 💕

I started learning Japanese last year and passed the N5 exam. I started N4 in mid December and honestly I’ve improved so much and I feel so motivated! Your translation posts inspire me to do my best because i really want to read manga in Japanese, especially Naruto.

So, my questions are:

1) When did you start learning Japanese?

2) At what level did you read manga in Japanese? or did you immediately start learning regardless of your skill level?

3) What were the challenges you faced when reading manga in Japanese?

4) At what level do you recommend we read manga in Japanese? My sensei said we can read manga targeted for elementary students after N4 and we can watch tv in japanese after N3

thank you for taking the time in answering this ❤️

Hi! Yes, Japanese-related questions are always welcome :)

First of all, congrats on passing the N5!! And I'm really happy to hear that my posts inspire you so thank you!

As for your questions;

1) Technically, I started a couple of years ago, but it wasn't consistent at all, so I would study a few weeks, or maybe a couple of months, and then go months without studying at all and by the time I decided to pick it up again, forgot so much I basically had to start all over (though a few basics were always still there!). When I picked it up again in 2020, I, fortunately, had a lot of free time (corona, obviously) and dedicated all of that to studying Japanese and since then, have been consistently sticking to it and that's when I actually started making progress.

So the short answer I always give people is that I've been studying since 2020 but I already had some basic knowledge at that point, meaning I didn't fully start from scratch.

2) I didn't start out by reading manga and also wouldn't recommend doing so. There are a lot of graded readers out there that I would recommend, or even better, my favorite and most helpful resource: Satori Reader. There are lots of stories on there that all come with audio so you can hear the pronunciation, and it also comes with an integrated dictionary feature, meaning you can click every single word and it will tell you what it means, including entire grammar explanations. Plus, you can add words to your own personal deck to study again later.

I highly recommend Satori Reader for the start, because it really helped me get used to reading whole paragraphs and since the vocab/grammar is explained in context, it's easier than looking them up online or in a generic dictionary.

As for when I actually started reading manga? Pretty much when I was around your level, so while studying N4 material. This brings me to the next question of what the challenges were -

3) When starting to read, the most important thing is making sure it's suitable for your level. If you google "japanese manga for beginners" there are a lot of recommendations. Personally, I started with yotsuba& because it's about a little girl and her day-to-day life. That way you "only" have everyday vocab, unlike with other genres that may have more specific vocab (i.e. if there's fighting, there's everyday vocab AND additional fighting-related words, etc.) so it's a lot easier.

4) Okay, I feel like I already answered this above lol, but hmmm I would say your teacher is right. Most people recommend using comprehensible input, which means consuming content that you understand roughly 80-90% of. That way, you will always learn something, but it won't be overwhelming.

I do think, though, that starting to consume content in your target language will always be overwhelming at first, so if you just make yourself aware of the fact that you won't understand everything and that that's okay, you're good and it's gonna be better than if you waited longer to ensure that you understood more.

Especially when watching anime or tv shows (and also with manga of course) having the visuals is also always going to help you, so even if you didn't understand a lot, you'd be able to follow the story due to the visuals.

Reading is easier, though, because you can just go at your own pace so I agree that focusing on reading more at first is better.

So, I guess to sum it up: honestly? I say just go for it! Start reading, go slow and you'll immediately notice what you're struggling with. Write down any new words + grammar and make sure to study those after. You will also learn so much and it's gonna be easier to remember because you learned it in context and a lot of words and grammar points will just come up repeatedly so you will remember them sooner or later through that constant exposure.

Anyway, I hope this helped! But also feel free to ask more if you have any other questions :)

#ask #not bnha

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: part 1

Intro <-

Yang:So how we doin this? Drawing straws or... well we actually don’t have straws here so-

Weiss:It’s obvious that you wanna go first.

Blake:Extremely obvious.

Ruby:All over your face.

Yang:Hey now, don’t call me out like that! We all have so much to sort out here. I don’t even know where to begin. Differences could start and stop anywhere for all we really know.

Blake:From what it seems, Beacon itself would have one or two minor changes, but the real changes start after the fall. At least, for you three that is.

Weiss:You saying you’re different?

Blake:Unless you three started going on dates with Jaune at Beacon, then yes, I’m different.

RWY:(They’ve been together that long!?)

Yang:Okay, starting from Beacon...nothing really stands out too much. Jaune and I were just friends. *cringes* Back then, a certain faunus caught my eye.

Blake:Ah...right. I guess that tracks in practically every universe.

RW:Oh yeah it does. You two are joined at the hip.

Yang:Haha, really? Glad to hear it. My Blake and I are best buds! Remnant has never seen such a dynamic duo! Can’t say it didn’t take a lot of time effort after a rough patch. We actually dated in my world.

Blake:Same.

Yang:What!? How long?

Blake:I don’t know, it was pretty on again off again.

Yang:Well for me it was after Haven. Both of us had gotten pretty serious. All the growing we’ve done together and apart had brought us closer. However, Adam unintentionally put a wedge between us. His attempt to change and the problems that came with it were-

Yang stopped midway and saw the confused faces of her otherworldly teammates. They were shocked, confused even. Especially Blake, who looked the most shocked of all.

Yang:Umm did I say something odd?

Blake:Adam, he...isn’t dead?

Yang:Oh, well I guess that’s the start of the major changes then. Blake and I fought Adam at Argus. Stabbed him through the chest and watched him fall down rocks into a river.

Ruby:That lines you with my world. Dude died that day. Like any normal person should.

Yang:Well Adam is anything but fucking normal. Man has the craziest luck. A young women, the winter maiden in fact, she saved his life. She’s not exactly normal either. The maiden, Jacquelyn, ended up sticking by him to see if she could change his ways. This naturally meant we’d run into them again. And that’s how things fell apart.

Blake:What do you mean?

Yang:You were fully committed to seeing if Adam could actually change. I wasn’t, so we constantly butted heads in any situation involving him. Then we would fight about things that had nothing to do with at all. Eventually, we broke it off. We remained on decent terms but I was pretty heartbroken about the disconnect. Enter our lovable blonde idiot. Jaune did everything in his power to cheer me up.

Weiss:Sounds like him. Always such a bleeding heart. That boy just can’t help himself. Let me guess, his kindness and concern made you feel all warm and fuzzy?

Yang:Hehe, guilty. It was more of his willingness to laugh at my puns. Jaune’s always been interesting to talk to. He tries to act cool and calm even though he’s terrible at it, then comes clean right after. Before I knew it I was telling him things I hadn’t talked about with people before. I could tell he looked at me like most guys do, but also genuinely wanted to listen to me. Talk about playing unfair; he got defenseless. Suddenly I was smiling again. Anytime with him was time well spent. Then one day, I kissed him.

Ruby:Happily ever after?

Yang:Not even close! Hahaha!

Weiss:Why do you sound proud?

Yang:It’s funny looking back at it to a certain degree. Gods, I was such a brat. More than a few fights are on me. Between Blake, Raven, and other experiences, my insecurities flared up in ugly ways over nothing. It even got us to break up too. I was officially done with dating. My Ruby was out in an uncomfortable position.

Ruby:I bet! I’d never want you two fighting. Especially in my world. Picking between the person I love and my sister!? I don’t know what will happen.

Yang:I kinda do. *sets up* You’d start dating Jaune because you’ve looked at him since Beacon. The two of you would confide in each other and share a special kind of love, but it would be bittersweet. All because your sister still pines for him and never met to make him leave, and Jaune never says it, but he hates how things fell apart. He’s faithful to you and would never do you wrong, a guy to truly cherish. So... you let him go. Watch him walk back to your sister like you asked, because my happiness was worth that much to you.

Ruby:....

Yang: In my world at least. Honestly it’s still the most amazing thing I’ve seen you do. We must’ve cried over that conversation for hours. I felt so guilty and you only smiled, hugging me tight. Jaune and I had a few more stumbles. Nothing serious though. Eventually we moved in together when the world was saved. You and Oscar got together officially which made me happy. Even made our weddings a competition of who’d make dad bawl his eyes out the most. You won by the way; Raven came back into our family and into dad’s arms. Last but not least I had a baby. Yujin Xiao Long, my fucking pride and joy from above.

Weiss:Wow, that’s a lot.

Blake:What am I doing? Did I marry Sun?

Yang:Yep. You and blondes Blake, I tell ya.

Weiss:Hold the phone! Who am I with!?

Yang:Pretty sure you’re technically single. Buuuut, Neo and your have gotten pretty friendly from what I managed to interrogate out of you.

Weiss:That’s, highly unexpected. For a number of reasons.

Yang:Better believe it. Besides Cinder, a few crazies, and Salem, a few people made something of themselves. Dying sucks after all.

Ruby:You have a dead Cinder?

WBY: You don’t?

Ruby:*crosses arms* Hmph, I’ll wait my turn. Yang, you said you’re the only mother from our team. If Blake and I have been married for quite some time then what, we don’t want kids?

The joyful sunshine from Yang slipped into grayer skies. Her smile faded and it increasingly got harder to look at this Ruby without thinking of her own.

Yang:Are you sure that’s something you wanna know? I’ll tell you, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood with the problems where I from.

Blake:Problems? How big of a problem.

Yang:The biggest we’ve faced. It’s...a lot.

Ruby:Well we’ve listened this far. *takes hand* Lay it on us.

Yang:Pfft, oh boy. So...umm...another secret war came up. One that caused us to leave our friends and family for over a decade.

Weiss:A decade!?

Blake:What gets worse after Salem!? Who tries anything after a grimm queen!?

Yang:So a majority of Remnant was still unaware of her, but a fight like that can only be kept under wraps so tightly. Plenty of people still learned fractions of the truth. A few of those people weren’t exactly nice guys. They idolized her efforts and became her followers that wanted to keep her will alive, starting with taking revenge on the people who defeated her. We were so unaware. So caught up in normalcy. They ambushed us, and I mean everyone. We...we didn’t come out unscathed. Ren was crippled badly. Weiss, you almost your brother. Jaune’s family got hit but thankfully lived. The real casualties were aimed to hurt Ruby.

Ruby:Oh, of course. S-So, either you’re about to say I had no time to start a family, or...

Yang:...

Yang:When I tell you the look you made when you learned what happened to Oscar, to Qrow... that’s the moment it felt like my little sister left forever. Till this day you don’t smile like you used to. Very recently, now that it’s finally over, you’ve started looking better, but those ten years were hell. We choose to go out and fight again, avoiding contact with family. I haven’t had a real opportunity to be in my daughters life.

Ruby:How old is she?

Yang:Sixteen soon. Left her when she was four so you know. *tearing up* I missed everything. Just about anyways. Ironically it was Raven and Adam that helped her through the years with Jaune and Dad. Eventually we came back and ooohh boy was Yujin not thrilled in the slightest. Hehehe. Her right hook is really strong. I only had about a week with her before things got complicated again. *wipes eyes* But it’s okay. We left on good term. Something I definitely don’t feel like I deserve.

Blake:I can’t believe a thing like that would be possible.

Yang:Cults are a huge problem in Remnant now. You’re definitely aware of that. You actually oversee a little group from the shadows to deal with them in secret. An idea you got from experience. Adam works for you and everything. Hate to admit, but he’s become the guy you wanted him to be. Even has a family. I’m grateful to him. He personally kept my girl safe.

Blake:To think I’d hear you say that. Now I know this isn’t my world.

Yang:Don’t get me wrong, I still will hit him if given the chance. My life hasn’t been charmed and sacrifices too great were happening way too many times but it finally has gotten to a point where everyone feels like we’re taking steps towards a better future.

Weiss:Moving forward?

Yang:Yes, I was trying to avoid the phrase but yes Weiss, we’re moving forward. Still... *looks at Ruby*....

Ruby:W-What?

Yang:It’s unreal seeing you like this. My Ruby has become so strong and endured but hasn’t really picked herself up completely. All her tragedy stemmed from the loss of Oscar and Qrow; her last talk with Oscar was fight about kids too. That’s the entire reason she went off alone in the first place. Looking at you I can’t help but question my own choices. If...I just let her stay with Jaune, then maybe-

Ruby:Nope.

Yang:Huh?

Ruby:Look, if I know anything about your world, then it’s gonna be me and I can tell you without a doubt your Ruby doesn’t blame or would consider her own happiness without you. She loved you enough to take the chance to find love again. You really think there’s anything you could’ve done differently at that point. That girl is as stubborn as they come! *smiles* So buck up cowgirl. You deserve it.

A sense of warmth came over Yang as she heard those words. This other Ruby smiled at her with the same love as her own; completely caring about Yang’s feeling before her own. Yang felt so...unburdened. She couldn’t help but cry a little, laughing softly as she did. Who would’ve thought love could transcend worlds? It was so vindicating, therapeutic even.

Yang:Ruby, you’re something else entirely, you know that?

Ruby:It’s my curse. All I ever wanted was normal knees but the world said “no, special eyes!”

Yang:Well I guess I should thank the world then?

Weiss:You said your Ruby is getting better? That’s good. Still, it must be pretty weird looking at Jaune. Can’t imagine how lonely it must feel losing a love twice.

Blake:It never numbs.

Yang:Geez you two, lighten up. We can’t all be depressed. Ruby also didn’t lose Jaune. Actually....there may or may not have been an interesting...arrangement for a brief period of time.

Ruby:Ehhh what?

Yang:Hehehe well, hahaha, ummmm a decade is a very long time without feeling any kind of pleasure in a bleak situation. And you know me, I have to share things with you all my life.

Ruby:OH MY GOD!!!

Blake:*grinning* Yooooo! You loaned out Jaune!?

Weiss:That’s....accurate; in a lot of ways.

Ruby:That’s so scandalous! How could you!?

Yang:I didn’t force it! I gave the option, you said no, then you changed your mind because things got real stressful. Like come on, a decade of death and loneliness.

Ruby:Sigh...yeah. I can see it. Still, it’s so filthy. He’s a married man. What, so I’d just look at you and say “Yang I’m gonna sleep with Jaune, don’t come in the room.”

Yang:....

Ruby:What?

Yang:....Nothing.

Ruby:Bullshit! What is it!?

Yang:*scratches head* Well, I was lonely too, and a week is only so long-

Weiss:Oh so it was a group thing!!?

Ruby:WHAT!?

Yang:Only sometimes!

Ruby:SOMETIMES!?

Blake:HAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! THAT IS AMAZING!

Ruby:Why are you laughing!?

Blake:Because that’s just so extreme, and not, all at the same time. I could totally see that happening.

Weiss:Same. Dang, Jaune slept with sisters. That’s dangerously close to being like your dad.

Ruby:That’s different!

Blake:Is it though?

Yang:Eh, I don’t see the problem. We’re all grown and make choices. Plus I’m the one who guided you through awkward teenage changes. It not like we didn’t share a room for years.

Ruby:That doesn’t make it okay.

Yang:Eh debatable.

Ruby:*red* It isn’t though! How could I do something so bold!? So taboo!?

Weiss:It isn’t like you’re the one who did it. Just a version of you.

Ruby:Not better!

Yang:Awwww it’s okay Ruby. Let’s hug it out. Hehehe *opens arms*

Ruby:Don’t touch me!

Weiss and Blake laugh until their sides hurt as Ruby tries escaping the bear hug that terrorized her. Yang’s world found interesting for sure. Weiss finally decides to help Ruby out.

Weiss:Got a picture of Yujin?

Yang’s eyes lit up and pulled out her scroll. Her team huddled around her and collectively cooed like that parents they are at the sight of a blonde young girl with gorgeous blue eyes with a black combat school graduation cap and gown and a certificate proudly raised up high. If it wasn’t for those eyes and shoulders length hair, they might’ve mistaken her for Yang.

Yang:She’s going to Beacon early because she’s fucking awesome like her mom.

Ruby:I think you mean her aunt?

Yang:I know what I said.

Weiss:I bet she’s just as hardheaded.

Blake:What do you think your kid is up to right now?

Yang: Well...*smiles*

xxxx

The girl in question sat at a work bench with oil on her face and her hands busy tinkering with gauntlets. She looked over at blueprints in a journal. If they were right, then she was definitely doing something wrong. How her mother made something so complex was crazy!

Yujin:Come on Yujin. You can fix a car, making gauntlets into a sword that don’t break should be easy!

Footsteps came up from behind her and a plate stacked with sandwiches. She looked up and smiled at her dad that gave her a wink, then kissed her forehead.

Jaune:Haveing fun, you grease monkey.

Yujin:Jokes on you, I like monkeys. Just a few more attempts and I’ll have the coolest weapon in Remnant. That entrance exam is as good as aced.

Jaune:Not if you don’t have a landing strategy. Tomorrow we’re going on a trip.

Yujin:Does it happen to be near a cliff?

Jaune:Who can say? Rule one of being a huntsman, be prepared for everything.

He ruffled her hair and left, laughing evilly. Yujin could tell he’s been waiting for this day. She pulled out her scroll and searched through a collection of videos labeled “mom” and found a super early one. She hit play and watched her mother give a peace sign to the camera as trees increasingly got closer from below.

Yang:Beacon rules!!!! Wooohooo!

The camera flipped and focused on a familiar blonde flailing through the air like a doll in the distance.

Yang:Oof, hate to be that guy! Wait, that’s vomit boy! Hahah, hope he survives. He owes me shoes. Poor dude. I guess he needs more training in flirting and landing. Wait, eugh I think he barfed again! Hahaha!

Jaune:Stop watching that one!!!!

Yujin:Hahaha but it’s the best one. The ending is priceless.

Jaune: *walks back down*

Yang:Well if he survives this I guess I can off him at least I can offer him mints and company. Fake it to ya make Jaune. Between me and Ruby, at least you’ll look like a player. Heh, nah, I don’t think I can support a bunny onesie.

Yujin and Jaune:*grinning* And then she did! *high-fives* Arc charm, baby!

#rwby #rwby au #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #rwby dragonslayer #yujin xiao long #rwby lasting embers

[thewhitejournal]

“The Intern” Part Five

Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader Series

(not my gif)

hello everyone! thank you all so much for the recent support on my work, you have no idea how much it keeps me going. i love you all and i hope you enjoy the latest installment of ‘the intern’ :)

content warnings: cursing, pain, blood, injury

-

Darkness was all that you felt; was it possible to feel the darkness? You’d expected it to be lonely and cold, this unconscious state you knew was inevitable. You expected dark and you got it. But it was nice, in a weird way. If you could remember what it was like in the womb, you’d think it’d be something like this.

Your subconscious whispered to you to stay, and you admitted, it made a good argument. Your brain filled your vision with the perfect life that you could live if you never woke up. Everything was perfect; it was like a fairytale. You were a part of the team and together with Aaron, Jack loved you, and you lived in bliss. No one you ever cared about was ever in pain again, and there was never any sadness or anger. It was just peace.

Logic piped up, telling your subconscious that what it was thinking was completely unrealistic. You knew it was true, but could it hurt, be like this forever? To just sleep, and be inside your mind for eternity?

But then, if not you, you thought, who would love Aaron with everything in them? Who would hold Jack close and read him a story? Who would the girls pick as their fourth musketeer on a night out, and who would the boys mess with?

If you did stay, you’d never get to actually be with anyone. As much as it would be nice to live in ignorant bliss, it wouldn’t be real. Real was what mattered.

But you were so weak. Your brain was active as ever as if you were still conscious, but your body was so still it could be considered lifeless. You tried to pull yourself out of it, maybe twitch a finger or toe, but nothing ever worked. You wondered if anyone even noticed you were trying. You hoped they did.

Every once in a while, your ears would tune into the real world. Mostly, you heard the machines you must’ve been hooked up to. Sometimes it was voices, those of distant hospital staff and sometimes you heard some of the team in the room with you, but you could never chalk that up to your imagination or not.

“Do you think she can hear us?” It sounded like Penelope. Of course, she’d have made it here, you’d expected nothing less from your favorite technical analyst.

“Studies show patients in an unconscious state are still aware of all of their senses, just unable to physically react, so it’s entirely possible.” That was definitely Reid.

The voice you assumed to be Penelope’s grew closer. “Well, (Y/N), if you can hear me, we love you and we’re here for you! I mean, Hotch never leaves your side-“

Someone cleared their throat next to you, probably Aaron. You laughed to yourself. Suddenly, someone gasped.

“Did you hear that? Was that her?” Did you laugh out loud? Vaguely, you felt a hand on your left arm.

“I think she laughed! I mean, it was quiet, but that’s what it sounded like.” Reid spoke up, an excited tinge to his voice, like when he talked about something he was passionate over. You tried moving your hand, and it must’ve worked at least a little bit because you felt someone grab it and squeeze.

“(Y/N)?” That had to be Aaron, whispering to you. You imagined them all looking expectantly at you. Was this even real? Your brain had tricked you before into thinking Hotch was with you, or maybe it hadn’t. You didn’t know what was real and what was what you wanted to be real.

You tried opening your eyes, and succeeded, to some extent. Your vision was blurry, but sure enough, the aforementioned technical analyst and SSA’s were there with you. It looked like Derek was there, too. You blinked several times, trying to fully regain your vision. The lights were so bright; it made it even harder to see.

“C’mon, (Y/N), open those eyes.” That was Derek’s voice, and all the sounds you’d heard before had started to become clearer. You could smell the sterile smell of a hospital and Aaron’s piney and minty cologne next to you. You will yourself to the full capacity of your energy, which wasn’t much, to open your eyes all the way.

You looked around at all the faces in the room, and they were all smiling at you. Your eyes landed on Aaron’s face last, and you think you smiled at him. You tried to, anyway; his hand was holding yours and he squeezed it.

“(Y/N)! You’re awake!”, Garcia exclaimed, throwing herself on top of you. Suddenly, pain shot throughout your entire body, and you groaned. She pulled away immediately, flashing you an apologetic look. You just chuckled lightly, but it turned into a very raspy cough. Aaron was quick to grab a cup of water with a straw that must’ve been sitting on your bedside table. He held the straw steady and put it as close to you as he could without hitting you with it. You gladly sipped from it, your lips lightly touching his fingertips.

God, you were so grateful for him. You didn’t even care what the team was thinking right now; they’d do it for you, right? Truthfully, you were in denial about whatever it was the two of you had. It didn’t matter, whatever the team or the bureau might think about it, whatever it was. You cared about and were kind to each other, and that’s what mattered.

“I’m gonna call the rest of them and let them know you’re awake, (Y/L/N).”, Morgan said with a smile, stepping out of the room and dialing on his phone. After you’d drunk almost the entire cup, he softly pulled it away, setting it back down.

“What happened?”, you whispered. Aaron lightly rubbed your arm.

“What do you remember?”, he asked you softly. It hurt to think about; the pain was nothing like you’d ever felt before. Even now, your leg was pulsing and felt like someone was twisting a knife in it. You remembered you’d called him Aaron for the first time to his face, which was a slip-up in itself. You hoped he either forgot or didn’t mind. It was unprofessional of you.

“He s-shot me in the leg…” Your eyes fell to your leg for the first time. It was covered with a blanket and felt tight; it was in a cast, you assumed. “The last thing I remember was you carrying me out of the house…”, you whispered, looking into his eyes. You were afraid your voice would crack if you spoke. Tears welled in your eyes.

Penelope sat on the bed, placing a hand on your good leg’s knee. She reassured you, telling you it was okay. Reid walked up to the foot of the bed, resting his hand on your ankle, but only for a second. You knew he wasn’t a touchy person, so this surprised you.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry, I should’ve never left you alone.”, Aaron muttered, his dark eyebrows knit together on his forehead, lips in a straight line. It was his apologetic face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say his eyes were a little misty, too.

“Hotch, it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known he would be there. You probably saved my life.”, you said in a low voice, your ability to speak coming back ever so slowly. He chuckled deeply.

“I definitely saved your life, (Y/L/N).” You gave him a weak smile, then turned to look at the others.

“How long was I out?” Garcia and Reid exchanged a look, and you saw Aaron motion them out of the room out of the corner of your eye. They followed his instructions promptly. Your attention turned back to him.

“Hotch? How long was I out?” Your tone was more stern; your gut had a weird feeling like something was going on, and you didn’t like it. He took a deep breath, sighing when he exhaled. His eyes met yours.

“Four days.” You were in shock; it took your breath away and your eyes grew wider. You were speechless.

“Are you kidding?”, you asked him. His expression never faltered. You couldn’t believe it had been that long, there was no way it was true.

“I wish I was, (Y/N),” He held your left hand between the two of his. “I was going to wait until you’d healed to bring it up, but you know that your internship lasted only a week, right?”, he continued. You were starting to get infuriated; not at him or the team or anyone in particular. Maybe the unsub, if the feelings had to be directed to someone. You’d been comatose for the remainder of your internship. Your mind flooded with everything you might have missed and your vision clouded with anger and maybe a few tears.

Aaron’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He said your name, and your eyes met his. Suddenly, his phone started ringing. He gave you an apologetic look and said he had to take it, answering the phone and stepping outside of the room. You were alone with your thoughts, and they all consisted of one main theme: ‘What now?’

What would happen, now that your internship was over? Would you just go back to your normal life and pretend like you hadn’t just met the best people of your entire life? Like you hadn’t met Aaron?

You heard him having a heated discussion; his voice was urgent, but you could tell he was trying to keep it lowered. You listened in as best you could, worried that something might be wrong.

“...didn’t plan on this to happen, Haley.”, he paused as she spoke. “I understand that but-“ His hand was in a fist at his side, his body was angled away from you but you could only imagine the emotions on his face. “She’s a member of my team, it’s no different than if it were Morgan or Reid.” His tone was stern, that you could tell. His knuckles were turning white, thumb anxiously rubbing over his fingers. “Haley, listen to-“ He pulled the phone away from his face and looked at the screen; the call had ended. He scoffed, shoving it back into his pocket, running his hand through his hair.

“Hotch?”, you softly asked him, and he turned to face you. For just a split second, the look on his face conveyed one clear emotion: anger. He was pissed, to put it plainly. But he looked in your eyes, and his face that could’ve been mistaken for stone softened, along with those amber-brown eyes.

“(Y/N), sorry, that was nothing.” He strode back into the room and returned to his seat at your bedside. You gave him a weak smile and a look that told him you knew he was lying.

“I might not be a profiler, but I’m not stupid, Aaron.”, you retorted, using his first name; this time, it was entirely intentional. This was a test to the waters, the two of you alone with a personal and intimate atmosphere. You looked him in the eyes and you swore his pupils dilated and his irises grew a shade darker, twinkling in the fluorescent overhead lights. His lips parted slightly like he was shocked, but he quickly worked to cover it, clearing his throat. You knew, though.

“Haley called me. She’s upset that we stayed longer than I’d estimated.” The ‘boss’, serious tone returned to his voice. You frowned a little at him, knowing full well you’d have been back sooner if not for your rookie mistake. You knew you shouldn’t have gone in alone, but you did, for whatever reason.

“That’s not your fault. You know that right?”, you tried reassuring him, but you knew that deep down inside him, it wouldn’t work. He’d beat himself up for disappointing Haley. Nonetheless, he flashed you a little smile, trying to reassure you that your efforts had worked.

“I know. I need to tell the nurse you’re awake so they can discharge you.” He squeezed your hand one last time before leaving the room. You watched him walk away, thoughts about anything and everything clouding your mind. Just then, Garcia and Reid came back in, holding cups of coffee. Garcia sat down in the other chair that was in the room, and Spencer leaned against the wall, sipping his coffee.

“Did he tell you the good news?” Garcia half-whispered, but not before looking around to see if Aaron was in the vicinity. Your brows knit together on your forehead. Before you could ask what she meant, he returned with a nurse.

“Hello, Miss (Y/L/N), you look great! I just have to take a couple of your vitals and check you out and then you should be good to go.” She flashed you a bright smile and you couldn’t help but feel elated. You were ready to get the hell out of there.

The team left her to do what she needed to do, and within the hour, you were cleared to leave. Garcia helped you change into some sweats, which you were grateful for; your sore stitches and clunky cast made it hard to do simple maneuvers, which was inconvenient, to say the least.

Those of you that were at the hospital loaded into an SUV and headed to the airport. Aaron had already gathered and brought your things to the hospital; he’d done this at one of the points Morgan made him go back to the hotel room and get some rest.

The four of you boarded the jet, which was a task for you; your crutches and cast weren’t exactly stair-friendly. You’d never used a pair before either, so it was hard to work out the mechanics. You felt so pitiful, like a hurt little puppy that nobody could do anything for.

Hotch helped you out of the passenger seat of the SUV, and you managed the ‘walk’ over to the jet without any complications, but you let out a defeated sigh when you reached the bottom of the staircase. The two of you were the last to board. Aaron had been silently refusing to leave your side, so he stopped behind you when you quit moving. He looked you up and down, watching to see what you were going to do next.

Right as you were about to attempt the ascent, you heard Hotch put both his and your duffle bags down, and he laid a hand on your shoulder, and you turned to face him. He just gave you a look, silently asking if you wanted his help. You sighed, nodding. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. His big, strong hands supported you as he took the crutches out from under your arms.

He scooped you up into his arms like it was nothing and started walking up the stairs, careful of your leg. Everyone looked up at you when you entered the cabin, and you knew you had to be blushing. Aaron gently sat you down on the couch and left to get his and your things. Emily, Garcia, and JJ gave you a knowing and teasing look. You just narrowed your eyes at them, shaking your head. They dropped it, for the time being, snickering to themselves. You rolled your eyes at them, a smile growing on your face.

Hotch boarded the jet with his arms full, and you felt a twinge in your chest. You felt bad, like a burden on him. But you knew that he wanted to help, and you also knew there was no way you could talk him out of it. He did feel guilty, after all; he didn’t say that, but he didn’t need to.

Everyone was settled in after an hour or so had passed, more than ready to return to Quantico. You had both legs on the couch, your back leaning against the arm of the couch and the wall. Hotch sat in the chair across from you, filing reports. You tried to casually watch the way his hand and the pen glided across the paper with ease; he could probably do this with his eyes closed by now. The wedding band on his finger caught the light from the small overhead light he was using to see. Your mind inevitably wandered to Haley, more specifically, the “conversation” they’d had earlier. To say it was a conversation was a courtesy to the Hotchners’.

Your mind was plagued with negative thoughts; you’d thought the two of them had a picture-perfect life. They had a beautiful house, an amazing little son, and each other, which you may even say envied you the most about the whole thing. Why couldn’t she see he was doing everything he could? Or did she, and just didn’t care?

“What’s on your mind, (Y/L/N)?” You heard Hotch ask you from across from you, his vision never breaking away from the paper he was writing on. You just hummed inquisitively, but only to stall until you came up with a good excuse, because you’d heard every word he’d said like he was in your thoughts. Which he was, but that’s beside the point.

You sighed, finding a good alternative after a moment of thinking. “That good news I keep hearing so much about.” You waited a moment to look over at him, and when you did, he had stopped writing. You heard him mumble something that sounded like he had regretted telling Garcia first. You laughed internally.

“Well, I was going to wait until we got back to Quantico…”, he trailed off, making eye contact with you, a smile playing on his lips and showing fully in his dark, onyx eyes. You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, a smirk forming on your lips.

“Are you interested in being a new agent trainee with the bureau?”, he asked you in a low voice. Your eyes widened to farther lengths than you thought they ever could, your hand covering your mouth in surprise and shock. You were speechless, so you nodded enthusiastically. He laughed that little laugh you’d grown to love.

“Hotch, I- thank you. I won’t let you down, thank you so much!” You tried to contain yourself in the small space you were in, but your colleagues knew this moment was coming and celebrated silently with you. The real party would happen when you landed.

‘I won’t let you down…’ The words played again in his head.

‘I know you won’t, (Y/N).’

And for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner smiled a real, genuine, big smile. Because you were the new agent trainee now. Sure, he’d have to do a lot of paperwork and make some phone calls but he didn’t care. It would all be worth it to see your face every day.

taglist:

@dilaudidwinchester

@awriterincrime

@art-and-thoughts

@royallybookish

@bihoeofmanyfandoms

@hopelesslylosttheway

@moonshinerbynight

@uwu-sebastianstan

@mac99martin

@laycblack

@ajeff855

@reidspurplescarfs

#fanfic #fanfiction #literature #romance #original story #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds oneshot #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #spencer reid #dr reid #thomas gibson x reader #thomas gibson #hotch x you #criminal minds fluff #hotch x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau

[theteddylupinexperience]

I’ve Got You-Marcus Moreno x f!reader

AN: this is my first fic in a whiiiiile, so I hope you guys enjoy! This is technically a female reader insert, but there are only a couple of pronouns used. Reader has fairly nondescript powers, but in my head it’s kind of a cross between Stranger Things and Carrie. Huuuuuuge huge thank you to @pascalpanic for being so encouraging and the sweetest beta reader ever! Thanks again darling!

Warnings: a couple swears, kissing, anxiety, brief mention of a bad relationship, blink and you’ll miss it Taylor Swift reference, Miracle Guy deserves his own warning, but really this is pure Marcus loving fluff

The room feels tight. That’s the only way you can explain it, it feels as though your lungs are compressed just sitting here. The conference room in the Heroics headquarters has never been your favorite, especially as a new recruit. The constant need to prove yourself to everyone is absolutely overwhelming.

The situation at hand is far from simple, Lavagirl and Mrs. Vox are both away on maternity leave again and the team needs people to cover for them the next few months. Marcus Moreno sits across from you, and flashes you a brief smile. You’re sure he can sense your nerves, he knows you too well. Although he was the leader of the Heroics, he had been the one to take you under his wing when you first joined, explaining that it was normal for your powers to feel like they were controlling you, despite you wanting it to be the other way around. You’d been hiding your abilities since you were a child, but now that you were an adult and allowed to feel everything so deeply, they had shown themselves more prevalently than ever. A week after a blow out fight with your ex, you had found yourself in the lobby of this very building, begging anyone who would listen to help you. The windows had blown out of your apartment when your fight reached its peak, and you were terrified that you could hurt someone.

Your attention is brought back to the room around you when Miracle Guy speaks up. “I just don’t see why we need to bring anyone in, we can handle things around here.”

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Miracle Guy, remember the alien invasion last year?” Tech-No shoots back.

“I remember we were saved by our children, why can’t they join us?”

“Maybe because they’ve got pre algebra during our training times,” Marcus speaks up, the eye roll in his voice palpable. The corners of your mouth twitch up as you try not to laugh. Marcus catches you, and shoots you a wink that makes your heart stop.

“Who do you suggest, Moreno?” Miracle Guy barks. God, he’s annoying, you think to yourself.

“I suggest Firefly,” Marcus says your nickname as though it’s the most obvious choice in the world, and you puff up slightly at his confidence in you. The pride, however, is short lived when you hear Miracle Guy scoff.

“Firefly?? Is that a joke?” he starts, “she’s completely out of control, she could get us all killed.” He sends you a cutting glare as he continues, “Or she could kill all of us.”

The room erupts into argument, you can’t keep straight who’s defending you and who’s agreeing with Miracle Guy. You wouldn’t be able to hear it past the blood rushing in your ears, anyways. You briefly catch Marcus’s eye as you stand up, but you can’t bear to fully look at him. What if he feels the same way? Oh god, what if they ALL feel the same way?

Miracle Guy’s words swirled around in your head as you storm out of the conference room. You manage, barely, to hold your tears back until you are out of sight, not wanting any of his accusations to ring true.

You turn a corner, finding yourself in the children’s area of the Heroics headquarters. You pace up and down the rows of lockers, just stay calm, don’t think about it, just stay calm. You’re shaking, tears finally spilling over.

You still in the middle of the hall, breathing hard and covering your face with your hands as your emotions reach a fever pitch.

“FUCK!” you scream, and every door of the entire row of lockers flies open.

“Firefly?”

You whip around, the doors slamming shut as electricity crackles in the air.

“Marcus?” you whisper. The tension drops immediately from your body, replaced with crushing shame as you realize your boss has witnessed your outburst. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, I just-“ you start, tears slipping hot down your face again.

Marcus looks at you for just a second, and you panic that he’s going to fire you, or worse, be disappointed in you. You go to apologize again, but before you can say anything, he’s crossed the hall to you and enveloped you in a tight embrace.

“Hey,” he starts, petting your hair, but never letting go of you, “Don’t be sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I never should have let that conversation get so out of control.” He freezes momentarily when he realizes what he’s said, and he pulls back, holding tightly onto your arms and looking directly at you. “You are not out of control, Firefly. You are the strongest person I’ve ever met, you have this incredible power within you, and of course it’s going to take time to get down. I have nothing but absolute faith in you,” Marcus promises.

You hazard a look into his eyes, your stomach knotting tightly in reaction to what you fear could be love. Marcus is a magnetic force of a man, someone you’ve been drawn to since the very second you walked into his office for the first time. There’s so much you want to say to him.

“I’m sorry,” is what comes out. “Why?” Marcus looks confused. You huff out a shaky laugh, “I don’t know.” He smiles at your laugh, and your heart swells. The doors of the lockers begin to shake again, threatening to burst open the way you fear your chest might.

If Marcus notices, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t tease you, though a flash of a smirk crosses his face before he pulls you into him again. “I’ve got you,” he says. A few moments pass with Marcus just holding you while your breathing settles. “Hey,” he starts again, “come over for dinner? I know Missy would love to see you.”

You giggle lightly, pulling away from him. “Sure, I’d really like that. Missy is the best.”

Marcus feigns shock and offense at your statement, “What about me?”

“You’re okay, I guess,” you concede. Before you realize what you’re doing, you run your fingers through his hair. You watch his ears turn red at your touch, and briefly toy with the idea that he could feel the same way about you. He brings his hand up to cover yours, and brings it down to his mouth to place a kiss to your palm that makes your head spin. He feels like a sunset at the beach, or the first sip of your favorite coffee.

Marcus smiles, showing the dimple you adore so much.

You could cry again at the way he’s looking at you, but this time it doesn’t feel like rage or shame. It feels calm, calm in a way you’ve never felt before. All at once, your emotions are settled and your racing thoughts are quieted.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks, breaking you out of the trance of his eyes and lips on you.

“I’ve just… I’ve never felt like this before. Not since I was little. You make me feel like I’m home, Marcus, I don’t know how to explain it,” you admit cautiously, noting how the lockers begin to shake again at the rise in emotions.

“Can I try something?” Marcus breathes.

You nod, and the rattling gets louder the harder you try to silence your mind. Your thoughts are everywhere, overwhelmed with everything Marcus, as you try to figure out what he’s going to do.

Before you can ask any questions, or even second guess yourself, his lips are on yours. Your eyes flutter closed, and you melt into the kiss, trying to memorize the way his hands feel on your waist, and his beard feels on your mouth, in case this is all a dream and you’re about to wake up.

The rattling stops immediately, and the hallway is filled with a blissful quiet as Marcus reluctantly pulls away to breathe. He rests his forehead against yours, and moves his hands from your waist to your jaw, to cradle your face in his hands. You are acutely aware of how hard you’re breathing, but also aware of the fact that the hallway is silent despite your heart and mind absolutely soaring after Marcus kissed you.

“How did you do that?” you giggle

“That was all you, sweetheart,” Marcus tells you earnestly, “you’ve been in control all along, I just gave you somewhere to focus that energy.”

You stand on your toes to kiss him again, more fiercely this time, almost desperate as you pour every ounce of love you feel for this man into the kiss. One of his arms moves around to the small of your back as he walks you backwards to rest against one of the lockers. You’re the first to pull away this time, just briefly, to place soft kisses along Marcus’s jawline. He sighs breathlessly at the affection, and gently grabs your shoulders to push you back. He looks deep into your eyes, and you get lost in just how gorgeous he is right now. His lips are red and swollen, his eyes dark, and when he leans down to place a firm, chaste kiss to your forehead you’re sure this is heaven.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about doing that since the moment I saw you for the first time,” Marcus says.

You laugh again, your cheeks burning deliciously from how hard you’re grinning at him, “The feeling is mutual.”

“Are you still coming over for dinner?”

“Can we do that again?” you ask, amusement and affection rich in your voice.

It’s Marcus’s turn to laugh now, and he laughs deep in his chest, tilting his head back, and you take the opportunity to sneak a kiss just below his ear.

Marcus cuddles you closer to him, your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. He smooths your hair down, and kisses the top of your head.

“We can do anything you want, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine

[afoolnottoloveu]

moonlight ♡

Summary: Spencer wants to go to sleep, but Reader doesn’t wanna break tradition (WC: 1.6k) {Masterlist <3}

Pairing: Spencer Reid x (intended she/her but technically gender neutral)!Reader (could be read as platonic or romantic!!)

TW: none!

A/N: i was supposed to post this on the 29th.. we dont talk about it its okay its fine everythings all good, I ALMOST FORGOT thank you to gracie for beta reading this!! she’s the first one on the taglist at the end if you wanna check out her amazing work as well mwah, n e ways enjoy :0

Playlist Pairing: it’s not a singular song this time, listen to the inspo playlist here! 🌘

_

You rushed up the stairs, praying to some deity that you would catch him before he sent himself to bed or was too immersed in some book to answer the door. JJ had called you 7 hours ago, so it wasn’t surprising that you somehow didn’t notice the time passing, plus the fact you had to get gas for your little trip.

Rapping at the door insistently, you were delightfully startled when Spencer opened the door only a few moments later. He was still in his work slacks and button up but tie-less. A quick glance behind him and you could see he had been making himself tea, and the satchel by his feet couldn’t have been dropped more than 10 minutes ago.

“Peanut?”

You were too elated that you had caught him to respond, instead opting to attach yourself to his torso. “You’re back! Oh my gosh, I was so worried you wouldn’t make it back in time, but luckily JJ called me that you were getting back today, but that was over like 7 hours ago, and then I got worried I wouldn’t make it here before you went to bed--” you rambled, but Spencer quickly brought you back down to Earth by removing you from his torso.

“Y/N! What’re you doing here?”

“We’re going on a drive, duh!” you said, before grabbing his wrist and making it halfway out the door before being pulled back.

“Now? I just got home from two back-to-back cases, and it’s almost midnight.”

“Spence, we can’t break tradition now! Unless Mr. Eidetic Memory forgot what tomorrow is--” you interrupt yourself with a very exaggerated gasp, earning an eye roll from Spencer.

“Of course I know what tomorrow is but--” Knowing he would only go on and on to list reasons why he shouldn’t come with you, you used your last resort, the “puppy dog eyes.” All Spencer did was stare at you, both of you knowing fully well that he was capable of resisting, but he didn’t like to. After a whole minute of unnecessary intense staring at each other, Spencer let out a groan and turned around to walk away, which you thought meant that he was going to bed. Instead, you were pleasantly surprised when you heard him half-yell from across his apartment, “I’m just getting my keys!” You squealed excitedly, knowing what was ahead of you both that night.

~

Your car was small, a basic silver Toyota corolla you named Carrie. She smelled of gas and was decked out with teddy bear head pillows and keychains that you asked Spencer to buy, hanging from the rearview mirror, (but only from the cool states). You even kept a tan knitted blanket in Carrie, which Spencer was now wrapped in.

You couldn’t help but notice Spencer’s infatuation with the moon tonight, as he took a long sip from one of his two cups of hot cocoa you guys had picked up on the way.

“Is it a full moon?”

“No,” he said--not in a rude way, just quietly and quickly, like he didn’t want to take his focus away from the moon or it might disappear.

So, you let him be. He was most likely tired, and despite tomorrow, which most people would be restless for, he probably just wanted rest. You almost felt guilty, but your tradition was important to you, and you could only hope that it was important to him as well. 

“Did you know the full moon is one of the most powerful symbols in astrology? It can represent one’s emotional instincts, habits and private aspects of one’s personality. It’s said that while the sun sign of someone represents their head, their moon sign represents their heart. Though, most astrologists say the moon is heavily compulsion-based. Similarly, someone’s sun sign depicts their actions, but their moon sign depicts their reactions,” he told you, still gazing, almost longingly at the moon.

“I didn’t take you for an astrology type of guy, Doctor.”

“I have knowledge in many areas, Y/N, I thought you knew this by now.” You snickered at the understatement. “If the moon smiled, she would resemble you. You leave the same impression of something beautiful, but annihilating,” he quoted.

“Plath--are you flirting with me, Doc?”

“Never, peanut.”

You rolled both your eyes and the windows of your car. Hopefully the blanket and cocoa was enough to warm him. All you wanted was to not blow out his eardrums as you turned up the music. Night Changes by One Direction was playing, and you reminisced on the fact that he originally had never heard of the band, causing your binge session, which consisted of watching their documentary and listening to all 5 of their albums straight. He told you he thought they were okay and he saw the appeal. What he didn’t tell you was that his favorite album was Midnight Memories, but if the way he was humming along to the song now was any evidence, you could’ve been a profiler.

You two listened to your playlist, made specially for the tradition, (Spencer insisted you always pick the music on these trips, since you weren’t very interested in classical piano) and besides the melodies, a comfortable silence encompassed the car for the most of the ride. As the road started to incline and your destination started getting near, you broke it.

“Can you believe-” you started, earning Spencer’s gaze from the sudden conversation, “Can you believe the audacity the calendar has, to change dates in the middle of the night, just like that, while we’re sleeping?” Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out from him. “Like tomorrow… You’re gonna wake up and, and you’re gonna be one year older.” When you said this, you couldn’t help but steal a look at him. He wasn’t making eye contact, just fidgeting with his fingers, but the small smile was there.

“Just like that,” you finished, as you pulled onto the edge of a hill. 

When you showed up at his apartment the night you got your driver’s license, you found this spot. This was your guys’ cliff. The one you guys found on accident, when your car ran out of gas on your first night of the tradition. The same one you guys have had a handful of picnics at and late night rambles about both of your favorite things. Covered in the blanket of light that the moon so graciously provided, it was perfect, and it was both of yours.

Parked atop the hill, you turned off the car and turned to Spencer, who went back to admiring the stars. You were just about to tell him that you would be right back, but you decided he was a little busy, and so you quickly shuffled to grab the box he wasn’t aware was hiding in the trunk.

He finally noticed your disappearance when you came back with a lavender gift box in your lap and an excited smile on your face. “Oh Y/N, you know you didn’t--”

“Save it, Spence. Just open your gift,” you demanded, shoving it into his arms and the smile on your face only lingering. He rarely received real gifts, only for Christmas. You were essentially his only non work friend, and he told everyone at work that he never wanted nor needed anything.

He repeatedly blinked, yet carefully removed the lid. He first saw the small brown envelope which contained a gift card for the local coffee shop near his apartment. Underneath that and the matching lavender tissue paper, he found a tie of no other color than purple and two pairs of socks, one of colorful stripes and the other of baby tardises. (You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but he appreciated the references.) The whole time smiles adorned both your faces. The last item was a copy of The Alchemist. It was one of the main books you two had bonded over, and only a few weeks ago, someone had spilled coffee on their copy. Spencer was against buying another one, saying he could literally recite it in his head word for word if he ever wanted to again, but you stubbornly insisted that it didn’t have the same sentiment, (and of course you were right).

He took the book out the box and held it by the spine as he flitted through the pages, taking note of the annotations, your annotations. When done, he closed it and only opened the cover, finding your heartfelt message. 

Dear old dear old Spence,

I know you’re probably gonna read this in .02 seconds, and probably right in front of me at that. Unless we broke tradition. But I trust that I convinced you. (It was the eyes, wasn’t it?) Regardless, I wanted to wish my very, very best friend a happy birthday. You alone are so strong for going through all that you’ve gone through, stuff that no one should have to even imagine. You are one of the strongest people I know. You need to know that I’m proud of you, Spencer. I’m beyond grateful for you, for having such a caring, resilient, and just incredible friend as you. I hope I don’t need to remind you that I will be here for you, through anything and everything. See you in 500 years :)

Love, with all my heart, Peanut

In only a handful of seconds, he shut the cover once again, and the happiness (and slight gleam) in his eyes became painstakingly evident. “This is your copy?” He asked, mostly rhetorically, because he knew it was. At this point, he was lightly sniffling between words. “Thank- thank you, peanut,” 

“It’s no problem Doc,” you smiled and lightly punched him on the shoulder, “happy birthday, Spencer. I’m glad we didn’t break tradition.” And by the look on his face, well- you were no profiler, but you could safely assume that he was just as glad.

-

Taglist: @bxbyspxncer @goldenxreid @prettyboy-reid @rottenearly @rainsong01

#criminal minds fic #cm #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg x reader #fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #y/n #oc #platonic!reader #spencer reid imagine #theas originals #there are no words to describe how much i hate doing tags