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#help i can't stop putting them in situations.
reiderwriter · 16 hours
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Here Isn't Where I Wanna Be
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Chapter Four of I Can't Help Myself
Summary: With Spencer gone, you find yourself spiralling into anger again until a new friend - and a silver lining to your entire situation - appears.
Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, mentions of the smut in the last chapter in detail, no explicit smut.
A/N: And so we get to it - the plot!! If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the replies or in my inbox, and feedback is greatly appreciated~♡
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With Mondays back to normal, you were surprised to find yourself still under the weather the day after Spencer had left you. 
Walking into your office, your body anticipated the fight, muscles tensing, heart beating, blood pumping as you opened the door to your office. Logically, you knew he wouldn't be there. He'd practically shouted it at you the Saturday before. But seeing the vacant desk left you angry once again. 
Tense for a fight, you couldn't stop pacing back and forth in your office as the hours ticked on. A small part of you had hoped that the activities you'd indulged in during the weekend - and indulged was the word for whatever it was you'd done - had simply been your over active imagination once again. 
But even though Spencer has cleaned you up to the best of his ability, had left you in your bed in fresh clothes and tucked under the covers, he couldn't erase the traces of himself on your skin or in your apartment. 
The files you'd both thrown around on the tables were still strewn haphazardly around, the tangle of last night's clothes still discarded suggestively in a line to your couch. He'd washed you up, sure enough, and you'd found a towel and wash cloth in your laundry basket the next morning, but he'd not done a thorough job and you found yourself washing all traces of your activities away from your inner thighs still. 
So, yes. You paced in your office, and you waged a silent war against the empty desk. 
The first week, you were sure they'd come to collect it, to move it elsewhere. 
After all, his time with you - with the university - was done. 
After two weeks, you started spreading yourself out across both desks, twisting them around into an inverted L space so you could roll your chair between the two of them. You stacked books on the stupid reminder of him, you used it as a dining table on late nights and short lunch breaks, you kicked your feet up on it as you read and acted as though it were yours and had never been anyone else's. 
And then you got angry enough that you unblocked Spencer Reid's number. 
You were raging and suffering this torment alone, and why should you be? You'd made a mistake with the case files, sure, but you'd been driven to it by his cockiness, his actions. You deserved the chance to make his life hell one last time as well. 
You took yourself home that night, wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled your laptop in front of you, and unblocked his number. 
Immediately, you put the phone down and opened your emails. 
You'd take responsibility for the messages, sure, but you had not blocked his email. Searching through the files, you looked through your department database for his work email, searched your inbox for his messages, and came up blank. 
It took you two hours of traipsing through each email - admittedly, you'd probably signed up to one to many mailing list - just to be sure. You finally turned to your spam folder, and there it was. 
“Son of a bitch,” you muttered under your breath as you looked through ten emails. Ten emails from his FBI email account. No wonder they hadn't gotten throug, it was an unauthorised email on a company server. 
You only grew angrier as you read through the messages. 
“Y/N, I have reason to believe you have a file I need as soon as possible. Please message me back as soon as you get this. Spencer.”
“Y/N. I haven't received word from you in 24 hours. If there's something wrong, please reach out. If you're being stubborn, I hope you see reason. Spencer.”
“Y/N. I have your address. If you don't reply in the next four hours, I will be paying you a visit to collect the file myself. You have blocked my number and resisted adult conversation, and I am tired of playing these games. Spencer.”
Sick of playing games? 
From the man that had been playing jenga and scrabble with your bookshelves, that was absolutely rich. You may have worked out that nights frustrations with him easily, but you found yourself angry all over again.
You hadn't even checked your phone yet either, sure that he'd blown that up too until he figured out his number was blocked. 
He'd found your address. He'd practically stalked you to get what he wanted, and then he'd just washed his hands of you the night after? 
It had been a month, and you were still frustrated. 
Your stomach flipped, bike rising in your throat as your anger burned through you.
If he could find you, you sure as hell could find him. You'd assumed he'd found your address through work, and realised it was just as easy to find his as well.  
Before you could stop yourself, you were loading yourself into a car at 8 pm. and driving across the city to Spencer Reid's apartment. 
The red blurring your vision didn't fade until you sounded against his door and were greeted with an entirely too feminine “I'm coming!” 
The woman who opened the door was blonde and cute and sweet, and she had a wonderful smile. You were going to rip Spencer Reid's throat from his chest. 
“I-I’m sorry, I was told this is Spencer Reid's apartment,” you said, trying your best to disappear into the night.
“Oh, yes. Can I help you?” 
“No. No, I'm sorry, I- I don't need help.” 
You must've looked uneasy in that second because before you knew it, the woman was inviting you inside for a hot drink, taking your few seconds of hesitancy to push down your guards completely. 
“Spencer doesn't keep much here in terms of food, but I know there has to be some…aha! Coffee!” 
“No, thank you, really I'm alright, I should leave-” 
In another two minutes, she'd talked you into sitting down and had put a mug in your hands. In a miracle turn of events, you'd actually relaxed enough to take in your surroundings. 
It was like you'd stepped back into your work office. Spencer's apartment, or at least the main living space, was filled with books. There were stacks everywhere, the shelves alphabetised - obviously - and looking neatly chaotic. 
You wanted to examine everything, every picture, every trinket on the shelf, every weakness he had that you could exploit. You wanted to know him. 
“S-So,” you started, turning back to the woman who'd sat herself down in a chair opposite you, staring at you excitedly. “How long have you and Spencer been dating?” 
The woman spluttered her coffee before sending up a howl of laughter that had your cheeks heating. 
Okay. Misunderstanding. You were less pissed at Spencer, but only a fraction.
“Oh, god, the idea of me and the good doctor is incredibly ridiculous. No, it feels incestuous, actually. Really, like shivers down my spine type stuff.”
“So you're his sister?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. Spencer was an only child. You had spent three months with him, you knew at least that much about him. 
“I'm Penelope, I work with Spencer. He's on a case right now, and I came to find him a book.” 
“A book?” You asked again, taking another sip of your drink. Mistake aside, you felt comfortable sitting with her. The couch was comfy, the entire apartment was damn cosy, and it smelt….
Your spine straightened when you realised it smelt like he did, when you realised that thought was somehow a comfort to you. Your stomach had settled for the first time in a week, and the nausea leaving your body after four weeks of anger had made you sick. 
“Yeah, we've been working back to back cases, so he didn't have time to come back and pick up materials, so here I am as his little fairy godfriend to send him a care package.” 
You laughed gently and pulled your feet underneath you on the couch, curling up again. 
“He doesn't deserve you.” 
“What makes you say that?” Her face was open. Her tone was light  but you felt that you'd just walked into a trap. Even though Penelope had described her role on the team to you (not a profiler, not a big risk), you couldn't help but feel as though you were walking into a trap. 
“Well, he's… he's… You know the man better than I do, right? He's infuriating.”
She raised an eyebrow and gave you a smile but didn't say a word. 
“He's domineering. He thinks his way is the best way, he- he- he rearranged my bookshelves!” 
And my guts, you thought to yourself, holding your tongue just quick enough to not let that slip out. You still weren't sure where you stood on the sex. It was good. It was great. It was more than great, and yet you'd hated him until the very second he put his lips on yours, and you hated him again when you'd woken the next morning. Surely that meant that you'd still hated him while fucking him, that you'd just been temporarily blinded by lust? 
“Your bookshelves?” 
“At the university. Sorry, I- I didn't introduce myself, did I?” You told her your name, how you'd met Spencer and regaled her with tales of your office antics. 
“Penelope you, you should've seen the look on his face. It was priceless! Like a deer in headlights, his eyes were so wide, it was adorable,” you said, recounting the run-in with the student. 
“And then, infuriating man, he said he'd spent all dat looking at me, but like, with the books-” 
You realised after five minutes of talking that Penelope had gone completely quiet, just grinning. Uncharacteristically quiet. You'd known her less than an hour, and you knew it was uncharacteristic for her to be so quiet. 
“So you hate him?” She asked, noticing your abrupt stop. 
“I- yes. Yes, I did. I do."
“It doesn't sound like you-” 
“We- we parted on really bad terms. I think. I took one of your files accidentally, and he was very angry, we both said some things-” And did some other things, you thought. 
“Things that I'm sure we both regret.” 
“Oh my god-” the other woman said, suddenly going wide-eyed and jumping up from the couch. 
“You're the- you're the reason he was late! He's never been late, never, apart from - well anyway he's never late but he was late and… oh Miss Y/N, you're not telling me everything!” 
“What? N-No, I don't know what you're-” 
“Luke owes me $20. This is wonderful. Look at me, I'm not even a fancy shmancy profiler or anything!” 
“Penelope please-” 
She heard the plea in your tone and sat down again, zipping her lips up and throwing away a non-existent key. 
“While we were…arguing, he accused me of having blocked his email, ignoring him on purpose. I found out today that he emailed from his FBI account and not his university email-” 
“So it was sent to your spam folder? Yeah, it happens all the time.” 
You shot her a tired look, and she repeated her action. Lips zipped, key thrown.
“I came here to….” To what? Fight with him again? See him again? To one up him? To kiss him again, feel his hands on you, feel his fingers inside of you, his to guess on your clit as you rode his face again, his hands around your throat as you came on his dick, as he blew his load inside you, filling you with his cum- 
“Shit.” 
“Shit? What's… what is shit, Y/N? Please enlighten me, because everything seems very not shit to me right now, other than the fact that I'm due a video call from our boy wonder soon and I haven't located this book yet.
You counted in your head and then recounted again as all the blood drained from your body. You didn't even want to acknowledge the fact that you'd come here just to see him again  using whatever old excuse you could find to get back into his arms (or more accurately, his bed). 
You counted, and you counted again until your brain fogged, and you couldn't even hear Penelope asking you if you were alright anymore. 
“Penelope, I- I think… Penelope, can you keep a secret?” 
“Yes, I can absolutely keep a secret. I'm a great secret keeper. Everyone says if you want a secret keeping, Penelope is your girl-” 
“Okay, that's- that's enough. I need to- shit, I need to go and get…” 
For the thousandth time since Spencer left, you stood up and started pacing. 
“Okay, now you're worrying me, friend I just made. Please don't freak out on me.” 
“I'm sorry, I'm going to freak out, I think I'm pregnant. Very much freaking out.”
All of a sudden, Penelope was up and pacing beside you. 
“Pregnant! With a baby? You think you're pregnant with a baby?”
“I don't see how I could be pregnant with anything else?” 
“You're sure?”
“No! I need a test or a sign from God or something.” 
The woman took a deep breath herself and then grabbed your shoulders, hauling you to her side. 
“Okay, breathe. You sit here, I’ll go pick up a test. Don't go anywhere and don't spiral. Rearrange the bookshelves of you must but don't. Leave. Okay?” 
You nodded, and she rushed out of the door in a whirlwind.
For at least ten minutes, you stayed completely still. It had been roughly seven weeks since your last period and 26 days since you and Spencer had sex. He hadn't pulled out. He hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't asked if you were on birth control. As much as you wanted to be angry, though, you hadn't told him to pull out. You hadn't stopped him and asked him to put on a condom, and if you were telling the truth, you enjoyed it all the more when he'd finished inside you. You'd forgotten that you'd gone off your birth control when you'd started your job, knowing that tenure came with health insurance and wanting to get the implant cheaper or included in your premium. 
What a brilliant plan.
Still, you weren't expecting this, and you were in a haze. 
Seven weeks. You'd missed a period, and you hadn't even noticed. 
You stopped spiralling when you paced into the bookshelves and started actually looking at the things laid about on his shelves. 
There were chess pieces, small rooks placed here and there, as if dropped and forgotten. Paper stuck out of the books at all different angles, and you noticed his looping scrawl on a few of them, his notes brief and indecipherable, but still bringing a faint smile to your lips. 
Then there were the pictures. There were a lot with an older woman you instantly recognised as his mother, and your heart softened as how they looked very protective of one another. Others showed him with his team, with Penelope, and a stern looking middle-aged man, two women, a happy looking, well-built man. There were weddings, faces that popped up here and there. There was a very young, very vulnerable looking Spencer playing chess with an older man. 
The room was filled with family, and you couldn't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes as you took in how much Spencer could love. 
He cared, and he cared deeply, and there were all these people in his life that enjoyed being around him. And he hated you. 
Your heart sank, and you were about to leave when Penelope appeared again, test in hand and gently pushed you into the bathroom. 
You took the test and waited. Penelope waited beside you, clutching your (clean) hands in hers as she talked you through her day, distracting you in the only way she could.
But your brain resisted everything, focused only on how you were about to grow a family with a man you knew didn't enjoy your company. 
“What am I going to do, Penelope?” You whispered, suddenly afraid of what your future looked like. 
“I can't - I can't raise a baby with a man that doesn't love me the way-” 
You ran a hand through your hair, biting your tongue quickly. 
“You don't have to answer me, but is it… is there a chance it could be Spencer's?” 
You nodded before you could even think of lying, too wrapped up in your mental to-do list building up and up and up. 
“It could be negative? This could just be panic and stress and-” 
You heard the alarm you'd set for the test go off and jumped up, sprinting into the bathroom. 
Two lines. What did two lines mean? Two lines meant baby. 
Baby. You were having a baby. 
“Y/N, what does it say?” Penelope asked from behind you. 
“It's… I'm…shit.” 
She came up behind you and looked herself, cursing the same way you did as she watched you for your reaction. 
There was a baby. You were going to have a baby. 
Okay. You could have a baby. You could bring a baby into this world. You just had to figure out how, and write a to-do list, and avoid telling your boss until you got tenure, and tell your parents, and tell Spencer. 
Spencer. 
You had to Spencer. You collapsed to the ground, mumbling to yourself as Penelope fanned you with her hands, squeaking at your unresponsiveness. 
“Spencer…” you mumbled. “I have to tell Spencer.”
You blinked the fog out of your eyes and stood quickly, absent mindedly making a note to check if sudden movements were good for the baby or not. 
“Penelope, I need some help,” you said, moving to the living room and pulling our your phone. She trailed behind you, sending you a worrying look, and you thanked the heavens that you'd managed to run into the most forgiving angel of a woman on quite possible the best/worst day of your life. The jury waa still undecided. 
You snapped a picture of the shelves, and then, throwing your phone down, you started tearing each stack apart. 
Once you'd made a large enough gap in the stacks, you turned back to Penelope. 
“We're going to tell Spencer. Like this.” 
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penny-for-thots · 3 days
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Hello!! Can I request how the wind breaker boys if it’s too many just suo is fine on how they would react if someone hurts their s/o in front of them? Thank you
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[!] THE AUDACITY?!
ⓘ THE AUDACITY TO HURT YOU INFRONT OF THEM!? gn!reader — fluff, hurt/comfort-ish, the writer laughed making this. includes. sakura, suo, umemiya, togame, + choji. (formatting this a bit different bc some have the same reaction, lmk if u want it differently).
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"BEAT HIS ASS, BRO!" or, HE SWINGS IMMEDIATELY. no disregard for where you are. if its something like a serious fight, or someone ganging up on you, something of that sort. there's a kick that swings through the air before anyone can react. he might throw them, or finish the job before turning to you.
SAKURA simply throws them away from you after kicking them hard asf. he's about to continue, but he stops when he sees you in his peripheral vision and turns to you with worried eyes, nervously reaching for you, yet stopping because he as zero idea what to do or how to comfort you. he gulps and carefully touches your face, looking at your body to see if your hurt anywhere. he's shaking like a leaf, hoping you're alright.
CHOJI finishs the job. that person is done for, beat up, knocked out, just- incapacitated before he scurries over to you and bends down. his knuckles bloodied as he cups your face and looks you with worried eyes. "you're okay right?" he'll likely call the first person closest to him that he's familiar with to come help him and make sure you're alright.
CONT. that's if its a man. if its a woman swinging at you, sakura has restraint. he'll nervously push her away and yell at her for hitting you, horribly solving the problem. but he tries. choji, "equal rights, equal fights." i am so sorry, but i genuinely cannot see him as someone that holds back from a fight because of gender. especially, because the girl swung first. regardless, he (both) immediately checks on you when its over, acting smothering and cautious because he cannot have you hurt.
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"ARE YOU OKAY?!" or, HE CHECKS ON YOU IMMEDIATELY. this man is immediately locked in on you. he rushes over to you, making sure you're alright, safe, and sound. he's calm, though, he can't hide his overwhelming worry for you. he's picking at you, lifting your face, lifting your arms, looking at your legs, making sure you can stand. he debates bringing you to the doctor as his worried eyes double scan you. he's not one to start nor continue unnecessary fights, so he tries to get you out of the situation as quickly as he can. if the other person is combative he tries to put the fight to rest with words.
SUO's calm demeanor can rub off on people different ways. he's normally good at reigning in his feelings during times like these, though if a bit of condescension or anger slips through, he couldn't help it. harming his s/o? in front of him? his tone can either come off as intended, calming and non-combatitve, more than likely leading to the end of whatever argument. or, his tone can come off as condescending which leads to the argument progressing. at this point, he's now using backhanded insults, other sly words, and intimidation tactics. if absolutely necessary, he'll fight. and embarrass said person.
UMEMIYA is trying his hardest not to fight. he deems it unnecessary, and he needs to leave with you and make sure your alright. he tries to de-escalate the situation. keyword tries. if he's not serious, he playful demeanor can be agitating. if he is serious, it's much easier. he gets the person to back off and he immediately scoops you up, he's carrying you bridal style, he does not need to.
CONT. that's if its a man. if it's women, neither of them are laying hands, regardless. its more likely that they would push her away and try to walk off and the townsfolk recognizes them and comes to help. that's if its outside/in public. otherwise, both of them are running away lmfao.
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"ARE YOU OKAY?!" to "BEAT HIS ASS, BRO!" or, SELF EXPLANITORY. his first priority is you. it's always you. seeing someone hurt you, hit you, in public, in front of him? he's not having that. but he bends down first, carefully observing you and talking to you, making sure you're okay, then he'll handle whatever asshole hurt you.
TOGAME bends down, cupping your face with his calloused hands softly, "you alright, baby?" his eyes scan you, dusting you off and sliding his hands along you to make sure your fine. after double checking with you, he immediately swings. that's it. he's beating ass once you're okay. that person will understand and then he will quietly turn to you and help you up or whatever and leave with you. ;p
CONT. if it's a woman, he's not going to do anything, really. he'll like- give her a stank face or something. insults are a definite, but he's not laying hands. he might raise his voice but like, yeah he's tapping out and leaving.
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a/n: sorry if this was bad lmfao
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dronebiscuitbat · 2 days
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Oil is Thicker Then Blood. (Part 14)
“N”
“Y-yeah?”
Uzi pulled him into her bedroom, looking so serious he was immediately nervous. Had he been too forward? Holding her like that had been rather obvious…
“What are we going to do!” She yelped throwing up her hands in indignation, sounding so angry, so angry in fact that her tail emerged, hissing.
“Tera. She… She's being! Grah!” Uzi couldn't even form words. Her fists were balled so tightly N could hear the tubing groan under the pressure she was putting them under, her eyelights were squeezed shut and she bared her fangs.
“Uzi…” He stepped forward, arms outstretched towards her.
She whipped around and glared at him with such an intensity that he stopped in his tracks, one of her eye's were crossed out in an “X”. And a low growl escaping her lips.
“Zi…” He repeated, still not going much closer to her. The X fissled out and the growling faded. She looked pained, like it was taking everything out of her to feel this way.
Then she turned away, tail falling silent as she looked down at the floor. N came slightly closer, stepping up behind her.
Only to realize she was trembling.
“What's wrong with this colony…?” She mumbled, sounding so dissapointed, so cold that he immediately felt the urge to apologize, even when he hadn't done anything wrong.
“They… I-” Words died in his throat, he didn't know how to help in this situation. He doubted that there were any words that could.
“They didn't even give her a chance! So what if she overheats? She's a baby! They can't just… just give up at the slightest inconvenience!”
“Uzi.” At his words she turned back at him, tears stained on her digital visor even though she seemed embarrassed of them. As she turned back to staring into the floor.
“What hope did I ever have…? If they do this to a baby?” Her voice cracked, and N caught her on the way down as her legs gave out, holding her incredibly gently. She was fighting sobs, it seemed that Uzi was the type to get so angry she began to cry.
“I'm sorry.” Is all he said, helping her stand back up on her own two feet. Before stepping back, he wasn't sure how thrilled she would be at physical contact while this… riled up and upset.
“You can't apologize for them N…” She said slowly, she was holding herself in her arms and her own tail wrapped around her, tightly, she sighed and turned back, trying to wipe the remnants of her tears away despite the fact they were inside her visor.
“I can't let her grow up without anybody… I just can't, She- I wouldn't ever be able to forgive myself.” She made her way to he desk chair and sat, her hands clasped together almost in prayer, if she'd been even the tiniest bit religious that is.
“Uzi you're 18. You live with your dad. You can't just-” He replied, putting his hand on the chair and looking down at her, he wasn't yelling, but somehow she still flinched away from him.
“I know! I know!”
“I just dont know… what else I can do.” She slumped, defeated, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose (if she had one) her eyelights closed and her other hand gripping her chair.
There was a few moments of uncomfortable silence, N thought to himself the best course of action, what else could he do?
“I… can adopt her?” He said, uncertain in every way. He could, he was a little older, and he still wasn't sure how great of a father he would be. But, with the lack of other options…
“Wh-what?” Uzi sounded bewildered, looking up at him like he'd just grown a second head, which was fair, he somewhat felt like he had himself.
“I just talked to your dad today, I'll be getting an apartment in the bunker soon. I'd kinda wanted to surprise you with it but…” He smiled warily, trying to convince himself at this point along with her, but he was in the best position out of either of them now… right?
“I couldn't ask you to do that. You'd… that's a lot of responsibility.” She was looking at him now, and it felt very weird have such an adult conversation. He felt older, she looked older.
“I want to.” He began, sounding a little bit more confident about it; before deciding to say something that made it immediately dissolve “Tera is special to me. You are special to me, A-and I don't want either of you to feel like you're nothing.”
He paused, both because he didn't want to give anything away and because he wanted to give her comfort, it was getting frustrating, before he didn't need to think about it, he could just do, no overthinking required.
“You aren't nothing Zi…”
At this she looked away flustered, not expecting how soft his voice went, but that was like N wasn't it? Always thinking about her, about the wellbeing of other people.
“Are you sure?” She asked after a moment, trying to find the answer somewhere inside his visor, his confidence rose again.
“Yes. I'm sure, I'm definitely sure.”
“What about V? And… whatever the fuck is going on with Doll?” She asked, beginning to worry herself over the future, now with the prospect of an infant getting caught in the crossfire.
“Then… I'm the best suited to protect her right? I'm a walking, talking weapon. If Doll comes then I'll make sure she never even thinks about laying a hand on her.” He began, looking at his hands.
“You aren't a weapon N.” She immediately tried to argue, but he didn't let her, not this time.
“I am. But thats okay… I would rather be this way then a normal drone.” He admitted, remembering his powerlessness in the manor, how little control he had. “I can protect the… the people I care about this way.”
He didn't finish that the way he wanted to, with the people I love. But she didn't need to know that yet…
She went silent, looking down in thought, before suddenly she was gripping him, holding around his waist and squeezing with all her strength. It wasn't a small amount either, it had momentarily taken his breath away.
“You… uh. You have me too. To help you.” She stammered out, being unfamiliar with trying to comfort him. But he appreciated it nonetheless, wrapping his arms around her.
“I… I know.” He mumbled, nuzzling into her beanie slightly, he couldn't help it, and he didn't want to let go.
But it didn't seem like she did either, and the hug lasted into several minutes of them enjoying the others touch. He felt the butterflies in his core flutter uncontrollably, hers was too, uncertain smiles neither could see on both of their faces.
Then they pulled apart, neither looking at each other for a moment as they both willed themselves to calm down.
“N are you sure about this? I mean… you're going to be a dad!”
“Yeah…”
That did feel a little weird to think about, N being a dad, being responsible for a little fragile life.
“But… you'll be with me. Right?”
She blushed, violet taking over her face. This one he actually caught, and found the same gold taking over his.
“Yeah.”
---
It took Khan a couple of days to clean out his apartment (apartments, V got one right next door.) But N was vibrating in excitement, an apartment all to himself! That was… something he'd never had before.
Of course it was standard, a tan couch in the living room, a kitchen that looked identical to the one in the Doorman residence, and two bedrooms. Otherwise it was a completly blank slate. Until he filled it with more decorations. And it's other occupant…
That was still weird to think about. Even after the couple of days he'd had to think about it. He was about to become a dad.
He was excited and equally nervous. The sweat appearing on his visor whenever he thought about it too much. But he wasn't going at it alone, Uzi would be there, hopefully he'd learn quickly…
Speaking of, she was at the nursery, picking up the paperwork for him to fill out whitch was contributing to his nerves quite heavily. It would be official soon…
Until then though, he was exploring his apartment, glancing at the TV before heading into the master bedroom, where there was a dresser, and a closet in the corner. Maybe he could put a desk in here? Uzi would need somewhere to work.
That thought made him stop. Uzi had offered to help, not move in with him. They hadn't even discussed that actually, and the more he thought about it, why would she?
They weren't together, he hadn't told her anything about his feelings, still wanting to wait until they figured everything out. But with the introduction of Tera, things were now more complicated.
Maybe…. Maybe he should say something? It was likely she already suspected something at this point, he was incredibly awful about hiding his feelings and that was something he knew. Even if he had been doing a better job than usual.
And if she did suspect something, she didn't seem to be put off by it. She hadn't mentioned anything either, but she had been becoming more flustered recently, that could have easily been just because he'd been… subconsciously complimenting her, either through his words or touches; she'd always been shy about that.
Or she could feel somewhat of the same way about him, he hoped so. Being rejected sucked, but it would suck infinitely more if they didn't hang out anymore, which he was doubting more and more would ever end up happening. It would be awkward for awhile… but they could get through anything.
He… He was going to say something. Not today… he needed to think about it a little bit more, maybe test a little more to see if he could prove to himself she felt that way too. But he was going to say something.
“I got them!” He heard said crush walk into his apartment with a shout. Making his thoughts crash into each other. Right, adoption papers, him becoming a dad. Something entirely different to stress about.
Still he poked his head out of the bedroom. Smiling at her almost instinctually.
“G-great uh…” He trailed off, nerves overcoming him for a moment, he could no longer pretend this wasn't stressing him out greatly.
“I'll help you goober, come here.” She sat at the kitchen table, taking out yet another pen from one of her pockets and setting it next to the rather thick pamphlet of papers in front of her.
He gulped, but sat next to her all the same.
“It's not as overwhelming as it looks, it's just you signing your name like fifty times and some personal information.” She explained, and while he was skimming the first page, he found she was correct.
This document is for the purpose of record keeping. To insure no drone is left recordless or lost and provide insurance to guarantee satisfaction-
Legal jargon he didn't understand, but seemed to go on for several paragraphs, it was very official looking, and did nothing to calm his nerves. Something the drone next to him picked up on.
“Don't read too much of that, it's not a contract. All it's saying is that these will be put in the archives to be forgotten about.” She said, voice bored and a little monotone, but even so she smiled at him.
“Okay, uh, so what should I focus on?”
She flipped through the paperwork until she landed on a place he should sign, and pointed at it with the pen.
“Sign here.” She handed it to him after clicking it, and despite his trembling hand he managed.
Serial Designation N.
“You might need a last name.” She said after a moment, looking up at him.
“I don’t think I have one.” He admitted, he'd never really gone as anything else, and didn't quite know how to fill that part out.
“Elliot?” She suggested, but he almost immediately winced.
“I don't really want that as a last name…”
“Anything else?” She asked, and he thought for a moment before sighing, shaking his head.
“No…”
His signature then became;
S.D-N, Elliot
“Good enough, let's move on.”
They spent some time flipping through the papers, Uzi explaining the important bits to him if she deemed it important for him to know.
“Parent is required to send their child to school until the age of 21, or until child becomes independent.”
“Parent is required to install the following patches…”
“Parent is required to take thier child for routine hardware checks…”
“Alright, last one, it's where you fill out the parents personal information. Your contact information, your medical history, that kinda thing.” They finally reached the end, and N's processors was so full of information that he didn't think he could take anymore.
“Oh thank Robo-God…”
There were actually two sections to fill out, one for him, where he signed his name again and filled out the blanks with his system contact number, an email (Who the heck still uses e-mail?) And any medical history he deemed important. (Did being able to turn into a weird creepy snake crab count as a medical condition? If it did, he didn't add it.)
And the second section, for a second parent/caregiver in cases of emergencies, of which Uzi looked at for a moment, back up at him before she began to fill it out herself.
It made him stop and stare for a moment, almost in disbelief.
“I said I would help didn't I? Besides, it's just for the doctors in case they can't get ahold of you.” She explained, although she outright refused to look at him again, being focused on filling out her own information.
He slowly went back to doing the same. Trying hard to not read anymore into it. But seeing both their names down… it fueled the heavy weight in his core, that's for sure.
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Awww I love your baby loscar au so much!
I can't stop thinking about how you said Logan is a more nervous baby and gets over stimulated at the races and I've just got the image of his first GP and George and Alex are kinda optimistic because he's been quite an easy baby so far but they barely make it an hour into media day before Logan has the worst meltdown ever! There's too many people around, its noisy and he gets too warm in his onsie and is just screaming! Poor George and Alex get flustered which obviously only makes Logan worse
Thank you so much! I'm so happy you love it! Sorry it took so long to reply! 😅
If anyone has ever taken or seen a baby at their first crowded event, it's a lot. It's like taken a newborn on their first flight. They're in pain and uncomfortable and the parents are so panicked that it scares the baby even more. I have all the sympathy in the world for them.
Logan is taken to his first GP 1.5 months after they adopted him. They wanted him to get situated and comfortable with them and the teams in Grove and Brackley before attending a GP. When asking team members, they were given a variety of advice. Some said their child slept the whole time and was unaware/uncaring about the crowds while other's said they couldn't bring their kids since it would be too much for them.
Logan was also nervous with the teams but he quickly got used to them. However, the caveat for Logan was that his parents were in eyesight. So going into media day, it was Logan, Alex, and George. They had also hired a nanny in case. The cameras and reporters crowded them, obviously all curious about the newest little addition to the paddock. Logan just hid his face in George's arms as they walked through.
It was a hot day and babies don't have the greatest temperature regulation so he is slowly heating up. however, they get into the hospitality before Logan can get too fussy. Logan is left at Williams and the nanny takes over. At first it was going fine, the baby was fed, changed and nap and Alex is back and forth watching him.
It isn't until an hour before media commitment that Logan has the mother-of-all meltdowns. Alex, George and Logan were having lunch outside when the noise, and heat, and just the presence of other people sent Logan into a fit of crying.
Screaming, wailing, refusing to be soothed. It was all there at the two, who thought they had been doing so well were unable to comfort their child. At some point, Logan's cries would die down into a coughing fit before starting again. Alex is starting to panic and George genuinely thinks there might be something wrong and they have to go to the medic tent immediately.
There's about 15 minutes left before both of them have to make it to media commitment when the nanny takes over and sends them to wash up. Alex needs to splash cold water on his face from how red and puffy his eyes are and George needed that and a change of clothes.
The pair spent the next 2 hours of media duties the most anxious they have ever been. Alex isn't as talkative and George is fumbling over words, both concerned with the baby they left behind. By the time they get back, Logan is in new clothes and had been put down for a nap.
After this, Logan spends most of his time in the drivers room or just with the Williams team. They limit the amount of time he is outside and tend to eat lunch in their own driver rooms or motor homes. It was mainly through practice and Jenson Button's kidnapping attempts that helped Logan be more comfortable around people. They also pair him up with Oscar in hopes of making certain places easier for both babies to get used to.
Thank you for sending the ask🥰
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blacclotusss · 3 days
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No Pain
My thoughts and opinions on IWTV s02e03: No Pain
Talamasca
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This whole scene with the Talamasca agent did confuse me for a bit. It threw me off when he began acting as if he were talking on the phone, but I was definitely locked into it. He's the RJ sending Daniel things as he's talking with Armand and I want to know what he knows and how Daniel will use it in this situation. I need to know what his role will be in unpacking all of whatever is going to come out in the end. 
Lestat & Armand's Relationship
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Dumpster fire, just as I thought. I can see the appeal of it and the way Armand showcased his power was everything to me. Him knocking and turning Lestat every way but loose was hilarious, but I always love seeing Lestat lose. I called it a dumpster fire because you could kind of tell that it wasn't anything deeper than the lust they had for each other, at least in the way Armand told it. There seems to be a lot of omission on Armand's part and I wish I could search his brain to see exactly what it was he left out. Maybe as the season goes on, we'll see more of what's inside that head and underneath that mysterious exterior.  
Louis and Armand's First Dates
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In the words of Johnny Gill: My. My. My. The way this date took so many twists and turns I could hardly keep up. Firstly, it was fun to see their little banter about the blocking of thoughts. Even when it got a bit intense with Armand clocking every time Louis thought about that man, it wasn't too crazy and we were able to see them reel it back in. Louis mentions letting Armand in instead of allowing his thoughts to spill and I want to know if Louis even trusts Armand that much to allow that if he could block his thoughts. But, the real kicker was when the two stopped to talk by the river. Flirty Louis is one of my favorite facets of the man and he was laying it on thick. Everything from the way the words rolled off of his tongue to the head movements to the accent was pure perfection. And the way he walked up into Armand's space as if he were going to kiss him...chef's kiss on everyone's part. I loved the way Armand was taken aback, yet intrigued, with Louis' responses as well.  
Now, the intensity of the date in the little bar was through the roof. I'm still wondering why Louis is calling himself a whore for being out with other men. I know there's a reason, but I can't get my thoughts together on it. Maybe someone can help me out with that. Is it him still feeling attached to this man as his first real love? Is it the pain and brokenness coming through? Is it guilt for killing his love and leaving him back home? And the way Armand picks his brain apart and gets him to confess his relationship with Lestat was really something. It's pretty sad to see Louis' thoughts, feelings, and pain affect him like this. He deserves some happiness.  
Claudia Talking About Bruce
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Wow. This woman has been through so damn much in her life it's baffling. In season one, we see Louis omit the details of her assault so we didn't know the severity of it. Here, we still don't have gruesome detail (thank God) but to just think about the fact that she was not only assaulted once, but multiple times and kept under the floorboards by him. Do you know how insane that is? To not know when it'll ever stop. When they'll get tired of your "gloomy faces"? Every person Claudia has encountered has done her wrong. Every. Single. One. And that including Louis as well because he didn't even have to have her turned in the first place. I know the coven is going to put her through it even more than they already have, but I'll save that for later. Oh how I wish she could live her life the way she wants with no one in her way or trying to put her in a box. 
Armand Choosing Love
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Oh these two. THESE TWO. Every scene with them has my stomach doing flips. Firstly, can we talk about that tunnel scene? It's a scene that should put fear in your heart for Louis, but it's simply a build up for their first kiss in my opinion. Louis is ready to die and he's preparing himself for it while Armand stands behind him like an ominous being running his fingers through his curls and down the back of his neck. It just sends shivers down your spine in the best way. "You walked me home?" "Did I?" Please! The little moment the two share before Armand walks up to him...whew. I don't know if Armand is telling the truth about being hurt (I have an inclination that he is), I'd like to think he is, but the wavering in both of their voices hit me in the chest. The kiss?! Resuscitate me, immediately! The caresses on the face and the way Armand pulls him back in each time! I had to fan myself each time I watched it (yes, I watched it numerous times and no, it's not weird.) Just when you think it's over, Louis invites the man upstairs and I need to see the tape! But, Armand choosing love and choosing something for himself definitely opens the door for the coven to do as they please with Claudia since Maitre isn't doing his job and this frightens me.  
Claudia and Her Role in the Coven
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Were they hazing my girl in this episode?! All this for a speck of a spot in this coven? Electric chair just for that. And as soon as Claudia thinks she's in and has met her people, they betray her by making her play a little girl...and for 50 years at that. She's been trying to get out of this "little girl" role for the longest and now she's stuck. I can't imagine the way she's feeling about this. And we also see Armand getting involved with her physically, which...oh boy. It's just a hot mess all around. I now see what Armand meant when he said his name was in those pages and why he wouldn't want them seen. Some part of me is still being delusional about her fate. Maybe she will survive and live her life the way she planned (yes, I know this is not reality.)  
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evpbucks · 2 days
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This whole storyline has been consuming my brain, so im just gonna spew about it because I'm sure someone will enjoy it
I have a couple good theories/ideas, i'll just jot them down in a bulleted list before i start talking
What if Don Callis had been talking to Trent way before he turned, slowly driving him further and further and brainwashing him until her turned.
What if Orange was actually toxic/pushed the others down to get the spotlight, and so Trent finally had enough and turned, like he said, and Chuck knew and understood why Trent turned, but he was too scared to turn against Orange too, and stuttered up. Or, he was too brainwashed to turn with Trent and listen to him. In their garage match, you can see Chuck hugging Trent, and Trent begging him to stop. And then when Kris and Orange came to check on Chuck, Trent kept looking behind him while he walked out, looking almost sad
Ok now, random spew time. Rocky has been very 2 faced in this whole situation, back and forth between Trent and Orange, focusing more on himself and getting himself up, which is good. But it's very confusing to tell what side he's on at all, is he a face, is he a heel, he's kinda really just fighting to prove himself right now so theres not really much info on him so far, as i know of, but then again, I don't check up on him much.
I feel like Chuck is kinda like the glue of the group. Trent was always there because of Chuck, Orange was always there because of Chuck, and they worked together for him. But when he got injured, Orange and Trent slowly started driving apart because Trent was too hyper focused on winning the belts, and Orange didn't have a reason to care enough, given, we've never really seen these two as a solidified tag team. Chuck got injured, came back as a manager for a little at the end, but it was far too late and he couldn't save it now.
I think Trent still expects Chuck to come back like he always does, and that's definitely a great way to show the toxicity of Trent. He knows Chuck, even though he's hurt mentally and physically, will come back. And unfortunately, Chuck isn't putting up with any of it anymore. But for some reason, even after all the no's and beatings, Trent still wears "Chuck" on his wrists, and he just now changed his entrance from the "Bestfriends: Trent & Chuck".
I think it's significant, Trent joining the Don Callis Family, because, and I may be reaching, but he went from the Best Friends to the Don Callis Family. Friends to Family. It would be cool if they did a "Family comes first"/"Family before friends" type storyline with this. He could say they actually believe in him like a family, the help him like a family, blah blah blah. When really, all along, his "family" is Orange and Chuck.
I definitely think Kris and Trent know something about Orange that we don't, and I'm pretty sure it's something bad. I might be a bit biased, given I love Trent, but I feel like this could all turn out with Orange as the bad guy in the end. Right now he's showing he's going back to being a bit more sad, using his old theme, barely any effort, always paranoid for Trent. With Chuck gone and Hook doing whatever tf he's doing, Orange has no one. Orange always had at least someone all of his life, and now he has no one. He has no social skills, and he doesn't put effort into talking to people because he's so used to these people that Trent ripped away from him. It'd be cool to see maybe Orange going a bit too far too get his friends back, but ending up making it worse cause he looses his true sights.
Another small detail, I may be reaching, but on Trent's shirt, its a picture of Orange with green tape over his eyes. Green represents Truth and Growth. Maybe he's saying there's no truth in his eyes, or he's once again showing how he's grown to despise him. He can't stand to look in his eyes
Last thing, it's all about Chuck v Trent garage match. I think Dustin knew that was his last match and he wanted it to be against Greg, just like they started it. If you look at the small details of that match and compare it to the other matches of theirs in that stadium, it's so sentimental. Chuck wore a shirt with their actual names and a picture of them on it, basically showing Trent that he still cared at least a little bit right after he just broke his heart by saying no and turning against him.
I may be insane, no clue. Why is a group thats called The Best Friends causing me so much torture and pain
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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YAYY!! Reqs are open again! I know you’ve already done something similar but can you do maybe some hcs of Graysons mental if that makes sense (like anxiety, depression, schizophrenia) only if you feel comfortable ofc <3
sad grayson head canons pt. 2
of course! i wont be talking about schizophrenia though bc i don't know enough about it and i don't feel comfortable talking about smth knowing i might be writing things that are completely inaccurate and that might offend/hurt some people. i apologize if these suck or if this is really short. when i made this post, i had just found out someone in my family was in the hospital and i wrote these to distract me so idk how good they'll be. not all of these will be on anxiety and depression btw. tw for suicidal thoughts. hope you still like them <3.
when he swims at night, the pool tends to be very cold bc its the one of the only things that makes him forgot about everything that is making him anxious. if he can't swim, he takes cold showers.
although it might not look like it, he gets very anxious and overwhelmed in situations where there are a lot of people. he overthinks everything he says to them, wonders if his suit looks nice enough/if he's presentable, if he's making a good impression, and has trouble focusing when there are so many people he has to talk too. he's very good at hiding it though so you would never guess (like i said, multiple people, if its just one person it doesn't matter to him)
like i said in my last hc, he gets anxious when talking to many people. i want to add that usually, its not usually himself that makes himself anxious but emily talking in his head telling him he's doing smth wrong. basically, if it weren't for emily, he wouldn't be anxious talking to so many people. idk if this one makes sense.
one of the reasons he wears suits is bc it makes him feel put together when he feels like a mess in his head. he always looks so flawless which makes people think he's fine.
he went through a period of time when he was younger where he couldn't get out of bed to go to school/do his school work which ig seems ooc, but we're talking about young grayson here, not the put together version of him we know. he hated himself so bad he didn't think it was worth living anymore and thought that there was no point in working if he wasn't going to live long enough to get a career/become an adult. also, another reason was bc he felt sm pressure to be the best that he kind of just gave up. tobias got mad at him and thought he was overreacting. he did get better thanks to his brothers, enough for him to start doing his school work again and start handling the pressure he was under.
he's very self-conscious about his appearance. by this i don't mean looking put together, i mean sometimes he'll look in the mirror and think he's gained weight which makes him workout more/swim. its not that he finds himself ugly, he just doesn't want people to notice and think something's wrong/he's going through something when he obviously is (cause in his head, if he doesn't always look the same, people will think smth's wrong/he's loosing control but thats just not true).
he used to have bad acne growing up and it really affected his confidence. he used to try to cover it up with concealer but no matter what he did it was always visible. it ended up going away but he hates looking at old pictures of himself cause he hates seeing it. it caused him really bad anxiety in public bc he thought people were judging him.
sometimes, people will try to talk to him but he won't hear them bc he can't stop stressing over all of the things he has to do and is stuck in his head. people have to repeat what they're saying and and shake him to get him out of spiraling.
grayson tried to stop taking his anti depressants when he was younger cause he was sure he didn't need them. he realized not long after that he couldn't just stop and that they were actually helping him.
after he realized they were helping him, he started to wonder why he couldn't be 'normal' like his other brothers (at the time, he didn't know his brothers were also struggling with their own issues)
to handle his anxiety when he was younger, he would punch a punching bag. this was before he learned how to handle his anger and stuff. he only allowed himself to lose control when doing this.
his room and office have to be clean at all times. if it isn't, it causes him even more anxiety. it makes him feel messy and not in control.
his grand father used to tell him that hawthornes don't have mental illnesses and that he's overreacting (stupid ass grand father). it made grayson feel like he wasn't good enough.
after avery almost died during the bombing, he considered offing himself bc he didn't think he was worth it. he let one of the people he cares most about almost die, and the guilt was nearly too much for him.
grayson used to feel like he shouldn't be struggling the way he is bc of all of the opportunities and money he has. he felt like his feelings weren't valid, and that others had it worse. he tought he had no reason to feel as crappy as he did and that made him hate himself/think there was smth wrong with him. it only made him feel more depressed.
sometimes, he'd go on the rooftop of the house to get some air, see the height and the deadly fall, and consider jumping off. he used to think everyone was better off without him and that he'd be doing everyone a favor by offing himself.
in my first sad grayson post, i said that he owns a teddy bear nash gave him. he'll never admit it, but when he feels really anxious and like his world is crumbling down, he cuddles with it. it's one of the only things that actually helps him calm down. it also helps when he has a panic attack, he grabs it and holds it against his chest to relax (it also helps him sleep). the only one who knows about all of this is nash.
his anxiety tends to get worse during the winter cause he can't swim in the outdoor pool. its one of his most effective coping mechanisms. swimming in their indoor pool isn't the same according to him.
he used to hate christmas bc people would get him gifts he didn't think he deserved. he loved the gifts he'd receive but thought that people shouldn't be spending their money on him and that others were more worthy.
he used to see a therapist on and off for a while (in secret) when he was younger but would always end up stopping after his grandfather found out and told him he was wasting the therapist's time. he finally starts seeing a therapist consistently in his mid-20s (so after tgg and stuff).
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fletchingbrilliant · 2 days
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already feeling lots of feelings and had to do some kind of sketch to encapsulate my ABSOLUTE ANGST AND DESPAIR so here it is
TEXT-BASED SPOILERS COMMENCE
I also want to take this opportunity to say that if you are looking at the events of this scene and focusing on who is to blame for how things went, you are missing the point
I've been in this kind of situation before. I made mistakes. The other person made mistakes. We were both SUPREMELY wrong in so many different ways and we hurt the everliving FUCK out of each other. And not only that, but it was very clear in retrospect that we had allowed the situation to GET that bad in the first place, that we had no choice but to have to have this really, really shitty encounter. It sucked, and we both had to learn where we went wrong in order to start healing.
This is not to say that neither Stolas nor Blitzø is thereby absolved of any blame. Obviously. And what each did wrong is worth addressing in the conversation about this stage of their lives. But the overall point, I think, is that this is where their paths and choices led them. And they had opportunities to handle things better in the moment, and they didn't. Neither of them listened to the other at crucial moments, and both got swallowed up in their own despair and self-loathing.
In my opinion, this was a MASTERCLASS at showing how... okay, to use the trite as hell expression... 'hurt people hurt people.' But to put it more plainly and less like a Lifetime movie, we have trouble seeing past our own hurt when we've lived that deep in it for so long, and often hurt the ones we care the most about because of it. Blitzø took this in the direction of not letting himself get too close to people... or rather, not letting others get too close to him, because then -- he rationalizes -- he can't hurt them anymore. He's only had one opportunity to have this proven 'wrong,' and that was with the conversation he had with Fizz where they finally both got over their dumb asses and communicated honestly with each other.
But these characters are being handled in a way that is remarkably real, for all the delightful fantasy, hellish humor, and completely badass insanity. Which means that the problem isn't magically healed with one cathartic conversation.
Long story short, obviously don't then shovel all the 'BLAME' onto Stolas, but STOP blaming Blitzø unilaterally. People are way, way, WAY more complicated than that.
Also if you've ever felt emotionally ambushed before, you'll know EXACTLY how Blitzø felt. (Stolas didn't mean to emotionally ambush him, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen)
And a huge huge HUGE thank you to my own personal Blitzø, @zaebeecee, for helping me parse so much of this. <3
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agirlcandream84 · 10 hours
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Reader and Frank accidentally getting exposed to some good old fashioned sex pollen via superhuman shenanigans (Reader was helping Matt with a case involving someone with poorly controlled pheromone powers causing a riot at work by accidentally making everyone mad)
They're both fine and don't feel anything and kind of laugh off the whole thing as they are getting in the car home. By the time they reach their shared apartment, Frank's shirt is missing all its buttons and Reader is trying to get them both naked as fast as possible because if Frank doesn't fuck them *now* they might actually lose their fucking mind. They barely stumble from the car and Frank practically has Reader over his shoulder as he sprints up the stairs two steps at a time and its a miracle they make it through the door of their apartment before becoming feral for each other
(They basically don't leave bed for two days, and spend a third too blissfully exhausted to even consider moving)
Uhhhhhh I'm dead? Ok so listen, I tend to write Frank out of canon and mostly in domestic situations so I don't think I'll write a whole "piece" on this but putting you over his shoulder and running up the steps??? Ma'am? Like I needed a minute after that.
I love imagining this animalistic feral desire--- you're literally achey, nearly in tears because it's close to pain and there is no one else that can make it remotely better -- it has to be Frank -- and he's racing the damn car home, his own desire making it painful to even sit still but Frank being Frank he's still just sooooo concerned that you're hurting and he's taking it on like a duty to get you home, up the steps, in the door and fucked until you can't walk straight.
And let's be real, you BARELY make it through the door. The second the door clicks shut Frank has peeled the shirt from your body, pushed the pants off your ass and quite literally ripped your panties off your body, all the while just murmuring, "Ssssh sweetheart, gonna make it better for you doll. S'not gonna hurt so bad, lemme help you honey." The first fuck is hurried and frantic-- just to make the ache go away -- and you're bent over the arm of the sofa and Frank and is pumping into you so hard the sofa is scooching across the hardwood floor but you can only manage to mumble, "more, please more, more Frankie," until the orgasm tears through you so violently that Frank stops his thrusts, even pulling out, to give you a moment to find your legs again, lightly dragging his fingers over your back and saying "that's is baby, deep breath, come on, breathe again."
You're foolish enough to think that one good fuck would overcome the sex pollen but only minutes after he's spent his seed in you and you're showering off, you feel it again, the ache so deep you can barely keep yourself upright. Frank hears you mumble, "fuck," from within the bathroom and he's beside you in 2 seconds flat, reassuring you "it's alright sweetheart, it's normal, we'll make it feel better," while he's lifting you from the shower and wrapping your legs around his waist, his cock already free from his pants as he guides it into your gushing core. The sensation is like a cataclysmic explosion and you sink your nails into his back as you grip him tightly and he fucks up into you, him holding you upright in the bathroom.
After you realize the pollen isn't letting up anytime soon, you spend actual hours in his lap, Frank sat on the couch with his cock filling you up, deciding it's better to stay like that and take care of you when you felt the ache. Minutes after finishing you'd slump limp onto his chest, panting, just waiting to feel the hardness of cock once again. It would grow steely in your core and you'd whimper awake, Frank cupping your face and murmuring in your ear "gonna fill you up again, ok honey? Gonna make it feel better," and he did.
Should I be hospitalized?!
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Five Hugs (Vash x GN!Reader)
Plot: Five occasions, worthy of a hug. (5 drabbles)
Series: A Set of Five [more coming soon]
Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader
Raiting: Everyone
Tags: fluff, no use of "y/n", a touch of angst, cozy, cuddles, dancing, Vash being a hero as usual, affirmation, Vash just deserves a hug in general
Word count: 2k
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Author's Note: I've been torturing Vash a lot lately so I decided to give him five hugs. Probably five kisses soon too and if there is something else you want to see, let me know.
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You had to run again. Chased out of town for something as little as showing your face at the saloon. Or rather, it was Vash's face that sparked the whole ordeal. The bounty on his head doesn't make it easy to take life slowly and enjoy it. But you refuse to leave his side.
You slide down along the smooth surface of the rock. The suns beating down on you as you grip the water bottle tightly in your hand. Your heart beats ferociously in your throat, and you wait for it to calm down to take a sip. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your tomas rattling her gear.
"Well, where should we go now then?" Vash's calm voice asks, breaking the tension in the air.
You don't answer him, instead leaning your head back against the hard rock. The fear finally leaves your bones, as you know you are far enough away from the town to be safe. It still stings to be treated this way, to constantly have to be on edge and alert.
"We could head more east; we should come across a small village before nightfall. Maybe we can camp in someone's attic. Hopefully we can stock up on water too." He sounds so lighthearted and carefree as he starts formulating a plan in his head.
You watch him with curiosity after drinking from your flask. He turns his head from side to side while looking into the distance before taking off his glasses and inspecting them. He seems to find a spot on them as he grabs the lower edge of his black turtleneck. He pulls it up to rub the lenses with it. The small action reveals a bit of his scarred skin on his stomach, which he usually carefully hides under fabric. This simple act reminds you just how much he trusts you. He wouldn't willingly show his old wounds to just anyone.
"Are you okay?" you ask quietly, but just enough for him to hear you.
"Mh?? Ah, yeah, I am fine." Vash straightens his shirt again and puts the glasses back on. "Eehh, I don't really care if they chase me and try to capture me for the bounty. They have their own problems, and I'm sure that money would help them. I'm just worried I will drag you into the crossfire."
You noticed the change in his carefree tone towards the end. He does worry about you a lot. Despite what he says, you know that the truth is a whole lot more complicated. He holds no grudges against anyone, but you doubt that he doesn't care. A man who loves humanity so deeply is bound to have his heart broken when he is forced away from what he holds so dear. You can see the pain in his eyes, despite his attempts to hide it.
Words don't come easy in this situation. What could you even say to that? Instead, you push yourself up again, slide the flask into the saddlebag, and walk up to Vash. You glance at his curious eyes, but you can't force your gaze to stay on them. You approach him decisively and only stop once your arms wrap around his torso. The moment your head rests against his chest, you squeeze him tighter.
He stands there with surprise for a moment before putting his arms around you too, his gaze softening as he holds you close. You don't say anything; instead, you just bury your face in his black shirt and hug him as tight as you can. He has been through so much in his long life, and you can't change the past. You are powerless against the present, and perhaps there is nothing you can do about the future. All you can do is hold him close and show him that you care. That you believe in him.
"Thank you." Vash speaks softly, his large hand stroking your head.
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A loud bang echoes through the town square just as the grip of your captor loosens around your neck. A collective gasp echoes through the crowd of onlookers, and you push yourself free, running towards the source of the noise.
"Son of a…!" The enraged voice of the bandit leader calls out, but you keep sprinting without looking back. You hear the slightest thump behind you as his gun hits the ground, but you don't care anymore. It's like you can still feel the barrel pressed against your temple, the tears of fear turning into ones of relief in your eyes.
You jump into Vash's arms, knowing that you are finally safe. He catches you with his left arm, the prosthesis wrapping tightly around your back as your feet lift off the ground. His right hand still holds his gun, ready to take another shot as needed. You bury your face in his shoulder, feeling grateful and protected. He turns his whole body and sets you back on the ground, positioning himself between you and the bandit that held you captive. You hear him whisper, "I've got you now."
Even as your grasp on him loosens, his stays firmly around your shoulders, pressing you more into him. He's not letting go. Your vision is obscured by his large coat, and you don't see as the large man is being cuffed and dragged away by the others. Only then dares Vash to put away his weapon into its holster and release his tight grip on you. He grabs your upper arms and leans back as he looks you over.
"Are you alright?" he asks with a tremor in his voice. He notices the redness on your throat, and his fingers gently touch the bruising skin. "I am so sorry!"
"I'm okay! I'm okay!" you say frantically as you nod, your breath escaping you in short gasps.
"Thank goodness!" he exclaims, relief washing over him. He grabs you into a tight hug again, his cheek pressing against the top of your head.
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"Would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance?" Vash says with a crooked smile as he offers you his hand. You blush a bit at his public tomfoolery and down the rest of your drink before leaving the empty glass at the bar. You take his hand with a smile.
"Gladly," you reply softly as his fingers grip yours. You feel a rush of excitement as he leads you onto the dance floor. The saloon is filled with lively music and people dancing to the beat. The liquid courage definitely helps you in this situation and gives you the confidence to let go and enjoy the moment. Vash's hands rest on your hips, and yours find his shoulders. A goofy smile is plastered on his face as he starts to lead you in a twirl. He does not mind that he occasionally bumps into someone else or that a few people start laughing at his exaggerated style. He is just too excited to have you in his arms, dancing with him. Their laughter is drowned out by the music and the joy in his heart. The giggle that escapes you as he sweeps you around only encourages him further, making him take longer steps and turn you faster. He chuckles at your expression, and one dance turns into many.
You have no hope of keeping up with his long strides, and as you get more and more tired, you end up stumbling over them a few times. His arms keep you steady, and your clumsiness only makes his smile wider. The looks of others do not matter; all you see is Vash's enchanting face, and all he sees is you. In that moment, you realize that you are exactly where you are meant to be, no matter how ridiculous you might feel.
As you gaze into his eyes, your foot gets stuck behind his again, but instead of just keeping you steady, Vash pulls you up and wraps his arms around you, right under your butt, to keep your feet off the ground. You grab him into a hug, giggling by his ear as you hold on to him. Vash twirls you about and continues to dance around the room as you embrace each other.
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Vash lays halfway on top of you, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped around you. It is a peaceful night as you've settled into an abandoned house in an empty village. The room is dusty, but it is cozy and filled with a sense of safety and warmth. Your fingers brush through his hair as you listen to the sound of his steady breathing. You know he isn't asleep yet, but there is no need to fill the quiet of twilight with words. You both find refuge in the peaceful silence that envelops you.
Vash is curled up against you, his legs somewhat entangled with yours. The tall and surprisingly burly man seems almost tiny as he enjoys your touch, your other hand resting on his back. He takes comfort from your heartbeats under his ear and the feeling of your touch. Anywhere is home if you're by his side. Your hug is all he needs to feel safe; your love gives him the strength to face anything.
You let your nails run over his scalp, and you feel a slight shudder move through him, a little moan escaping his lips, a sign of pure contentment. You wish you could wrap him up more, keep him even closer, and protect him like he protects you. You want to keep him in your heart, protected from all harm. But the best you can do is this. Having him hold on to you, your arms around him, as he snuggles close all night, or at least until you need to settle into a position more suitable for sleeping the night away, but even then, he enjoys your cuddles and doesn't want to let go.
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"Are you sure about this?" you ask as you look up at him, pain reflecting on your face.
"Yes. I have to. I am the only one who can put an end to this," he says, but his eyes are down turned and mournful.
"Then let me come with you!" you insist, grabbing hold of his right sleeve.
"Please…" he says with a sigh, his tone pleading, "I need you to evacuate as many people as you can, even if it is only yourself."
You look at him dumbfounded and then turn your head to look at the streets of July. The town is massive; how can he expect you to make any difference here in getting people out? Wouldn't you be better off with him, trying to prevent the thing that could put people in danger?
"I need you to be safe," he murmurs, his voice full of concern as he takes your hand into his, squeezing your fingers gently. You can feel his worry radiating off of him. He has so much on his mind; you know he doesn't want to be worrying over you too. He wanted to leave you at Home, but you refused. You need him on his A-game for this, you have realized just how dangerous the situation really is.
"That goes for you too!" You press, "You have to come back to me! You understand? You have to! So promise me!"
"I promise, I will come back to you!" He says resolutely and releases your hand, instead pulling you into a hug, and you melt into his embrace, your arms securely around him.
"Can we wrap this up already?" the dark haired man asks, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Vash holds you tight for a moment longer, ignoring Wolfwood as he leans closer to your ear.
"I love you," he whispers, his breath tingling your skin.
He lets go, and you take a step back, looking at him with determination. You will both get out of this alive.
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bladesmitten · 4 months
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“ajax and wyll have a really tough time in act 1, but it’s okay, it’s character development,” i say, knowing damn well the ‘character development’ keeps going in act 2 and especially in act 3
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deoidesign · 1 month
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hi i have a bit of an odd question and im so sorry if it comes off as rude at all!
ive seen a lot of your posts about canes, i have hEDS and chronic pain and im trying to convice my mom and my doctor to let me have a mobility aid. my mom is very adamant that i dont need a cane because i dont have balance issues, but my knees and ankles are pretty much always aching. i was just wondering if you think a cane would help with chronic pain or if i should look into other aids?
Canes can help chronic pain, they are not guaranteed to help you specifically
You can get a cane for ~$30 at most stores and try it out
A physical therapist and/or a specialist in rheum will most likely know more than your PCP about your specific pain and situation
Parents often don't want to admit their kids have health problems
I wish you luck
I won't be answering any more asks about mobility aids.
This is nothing about you specifically, you were not rude, I just get a lot of questions like this in my inbox. It becomes draining to get so many asks with people's personal vents about their medical issues or religious trauma or the homophobic situations they're living in.
While I would love if I could help people, I am not a doctor. I am not a therapist, I am not a social worker. I'm just a random artist on the internet who has EDS and is barely getting by myself.
I prefer to keep my blog about my art and about my work, not about my disability. It is relevant to my work, of course, and discussing my conditions in vague terms in how they relate to themes present in my work is more than okay, but I prefer this space to be dedicated to my work and getting to engage with my readers through my stories.
Personal information about my pain, my medications, my tests my doctors and my trauma are not things I want to make public.
Thank you for understanding.
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hehearse · 8 months
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YOUR MIA'S FIRST SCENARIO?!?????? INSANE HEADCANON /POS HOLY CHEESUS.... please tell us what other orv headcanon do you have oh he who hearse...
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IT'S OKAY DON'T WORRY i'm fine with whatever uwu he who hearse IS ALSO FUN THANK YOU
and i don't think i have any headcanons? :"D sorry! i just accept whatever is being projected onto my wide doe-like eyes by three people talking to me as canon and move on <3 i am easily influenced like that
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licorishh · 2 months
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Hey as a super introverted but not shy person I'd just like to say the jokes about extroverts "adopting" introverts to "get them out of their shell" are actually completely unfunny and it just goes to show how little respect a lot of y'all have for the fact that we genuinely don't want excessive social interaction and that y'all are forcing us to do something that brings us extreme physical and mental discomfort because you perceive our introversion as a failing rather than as purely a difference in personality.
We don't need your "help" to socialize. We're not children. We're simply not interested in spending every waking second of our lives talking to people and being talked at in return.
#again i scream from the rooftops that there is a monumental chasm between being shy and actually being an introvert#a shy person is someone who's afraid of social interaction. an extrovert can be naturally shy.#a shy person can WANT lots of social interaction but simply have not learned to feel comfortable in social situations.#people who are just very introverted simply have little desire or capacity for excessive human interaction.#we're not “afraid” of it. we just don't enjoy it and it wears us out.#you don't need to swoop in and save us because we can't handle ourselves. we're perfectly fine thank you#extroverts are constantly demanding that we get out of our comfort zones but few of you are willing to make the alternative more comfortabl#if you're a very extroverted person please do not take it upon yourself to jokingly “adopt” introverts you meet.#it's not funny and it's not helpful. it's irritating that you perceive our quietness and low social battery as something that needs “fixing#we won't miraculously learn to love and be comfortable with excessive human interaction. that's not how we're wired and that's OKAY#i'm honestly getting so sick of the “the lonely introvert and the extrovert who adopted them” memes#i can guarantee you that if you are an extrovert who operates this way then your introvert “friend” is actually probably very uncomfortable#and just don't want to say anything because they think it would be rude to bring up the fact that they don't want what you want from them#this does NOT mean extroverts and introverts cannot be friends nor am i saying all extroverts are annoying or that they all do this#i'm simply saying that if you are very extroverted and you have a friend who's very introverted#then it's on you to be aware of your introvert friend's limited social battery and STOP pressuring them to just “put up with it”#don't spend every second with them constantly talking. be willing to spend some time just in the quiet.#be willing to let them bow out of something if they're exhausted and are low on social energy.#don't expect them to want to come to every meeting or party or get-together because it WILL drain them completely.#be willing to let them spend time alone when they need to to recharge.#letting an introvert cool off and recharge when they need to is ALWAYS going to make social situations less stressful for them.#PLEAAAAASE take their feelings into account and understand that they do NOT perceive social interactions the way you do.#most very introverted people do not find socialization relaxing or invigorating. they don't do it to unwind#they have to unwind AFTER lots of social interaction#that's about it. thank you and good night
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yardsards · 1 year
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adulthood is just visiting ur friends, saying "damn bitch, you live like this?" (affectionate) and aggressively helping them clean up while they politely tell you that you don't have to do that. and then having friends do that to you when they visit your apartment.
#eliot posts#one of my friends often does not make his bed and sleeps on a bare-ass mattress so i INSIST on at least putting a fitted sheet on#(and then normally just fully make the bed too bc might as well)#i tell him to ''stop rawdogging the mattress''/''put some protection on that nasty thang''#bc i of course must use the most cursed language available#it only takes like 5 minutes to do and is very worth it#and then i have this second friend who takes this to a whole nother level#he does my dishes every time he visits and lemme tell you. the dish situation around here gets DIRE.#he did like 4 sinkfulls when he was here last#and motivated me to clean the rest of the kitchen while he did that#it took like an hour and we ran out of hot water#but WAY faster than if i had tried to handle that shit alone#and we had fun and jammed to 80s music#another person i'm only loose friends with but i helped her clean a ton of trash from her dorm last time i visited#bc she was on the tail end of a depressive episode and i KNOW how that is#this only works w certain kinds of cleaning tho. you can't tidy up/organize other ppl's shit‚ for example#bc you don't know where anything is supposed to go and you'll likely make things more difficult in the end#amd it just requires you to handle all their personal belongings and open their drawers and shit#and there's a 90% chance that'll make them uncomfortable and like you're violating their space#but shit like dishes is generally very much fair game and won't make them uncomfortable#tho sometimes you gotta ask if there's a specific way they like their dishes washed bc some ppl are picky abt that#ANYWAY#is it obvious my love language* is acts of service?#*(tho the 5 love languages thing is a VAST over-simplification and things are not actually clear cut like that)
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steakout-05 · 3 months
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eeuuaghh i would like everyone to know that i apologise if i have not responded to your reblogs/mentions/posts on tumblr, i have really terrible social anxiety and for some reason people talking to me makes my nervous system think i'm being hunted for sport by a resident evil boss. sorry if i havent responded i'm not being rude i'm just having a panic attack :P
additionally: social anxiety is actually the reason why a lot of my old posts from late 2022 had weird spacing and spelling mistakes. i was too anxious to type properly
#sorry this seems like a random thing to post but it has been bugging me for a little bit now and i want to post it#and by a little bit i mean the entire time i've been on this website#as for the reason i have social anxiety: i went to a really terrible high school full of dangerous people-#-who were literally like. the worst most bigoted people ever. not everyone there was bad of course but 90% of them were-#-and that stunted by social development by 5-6 years and now every time someone talks to me i feel like i'm about to get murdered#also primary school was. bad. the other kids could sniff out the autism in me and didn't like me for it#this post isn't directed towards anyone specifically but also it kinda is because there's a DM from someone-#-that i haven't responded to in literally 8 months and every time i think about it i get anxious#i'm sorry!!! i'm not trying to ignore you on purpose and i want to say something but my brain literally will not let me out of fear :(#i'm not used to getting talked to directly so every time i do my entire nervous system starts screaming and running in circles#it's kinda ridiculous because it's like. come on. why are you having a panic attack over a message on tumblr it's LITERALLY just words on-#-a screen what are you freaking out about. but also it's like hhhhh unfamiliar social situation scary. help.#unrelated to that but i am very worried about what people will think of me and like i know i really shouldn't worry about that-#-because i can't control what other people think of me and it really shouldn't be any of my or their business. but also-#-i have legitimate trauma that backs my fears up and every time someone is even slightly critical towards me my brain just goes-#-''see? it happened again i TOLD you it would happen again. idiot. you shouldn't have said anything''#and then i hide and cry and lay in bed thinking about how i'm going to die until i suddenly snap out of it and think-#-''wait hang on why should i care. i love being a weirdo on the internet why should i let my anxieties stop me''#and then it happens AGAIN and it's just a viscous cycle at that point#be silly on the internet -> detect slight criticism -> think everyone hates you again -> go back on your bullshit after 3 days of crying#and it makes sense because that exact same pattern happened to me countless times as a child.#be silly in school -> get made fun of for it -> get hated for it -> rinse and repeat until you think everyone is dangerous and they hate yo#if i could put it in a metaphor it would be like me being a little rabbit who thinks everyone is a scary wolf because of their big shadows-#-even though they're all also rabbits and i'm just paying attention to the scariest parts of them because i only know what wolves look like#trauma does fucked up things to your psyche lemmie tell you#social anxiety#anxiety disorder#i'm literally the ''too scared to order food'' stereotype except it's not a stereotype because it's real and every time i look at the 7/11-#-at my campus i go ''hm but what if they hate me for the food i buy there'' even though they're LITERALLY SELLING IT what is WRONG with me#anyway um. social anxiety sucks and i don't mean to not reply ro everyone who talks to me i am sorr y
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