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avis-writeshq · 3 months

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heyyy omg I love your writings so much! congrats on your latest milestone, it's DESERVED 👏 can I pls request track one with spencer reid where he gets an epiphany and decides that he wants to propose to his girlfriend? just superrrr cute and fluffy 😍 thanks a lot!!

glue song – spencer reid

summary: “but you’re here, and so i love you.” in which spencer realises that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. pairing: s5!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: spencer in a knee brace (tell me why that’s attractive. why does he look good at his worst. face card never declines), he’s genuinely obsessed with you, not proof read oops a/n: thank you so much anon !!!! i’m so sorry it took so long to post; i kept changing and editing it hahaha i hope you enjoy it !! wc: 1.05k

“Careful watch your– no, pivot a little, pivot–”

“I am pivoting! There’s nowhere to pivot to! Why is it so messy?”

You suppress a grimace as you manage to somehow squeeze your way through Spencer’s tiny doorway and into his apartment, the shoe rack on the side dangerously close to his damaged knee. You stumble a little as Spencer grips your shoulders tightly for support, his other hand holding onto a crutch.

“Maybe we should move into a bigger apartment,” you muse, helping him to the couch. Your gaze shifts to his injured knee, your face falling. “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I think about it. Which is pretty much all the time,” Spencer says, wincing as he finally collapses against the cool leather cushions. “Thank you for doing this.”

You look almost offended at his words as you brush his hair out of his face and into a makeshift ponytail. “Did you think that I wouldn’t?”

He hums as he feels the way your fingers pull lightly at his hair, your nails scraping against his scalp. “Thought you’d get tired of me. After, you know, everything.”

“None of that was your fault,” you remind him swiftly. “This–” you gesture to his knee– “isn’t either.”

He softens, leaning his cheek on your shoulder. You’ve been there for him through everything and he knows what specifically it is you’re referring to. He could see it from the moment his doctors informed you that he wouldn’t take the vicodin they had prescribed to him to soothe his discomfort. His thought process makes sense; he didn’t want to risk it. Regardless, he was left with a growing pain in his leg that didn’t shake even after taking toradol.

“I’d never get tired of you,” you clarify, squeezing his hands. “You’re too pretty to get tired of.”

He lets out a proper laugh as he squeezes back. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being serious!”

He laughs again, shaking his head adamantly. “Liar.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

Spencer beams in your direction, pressing kisses against the soft of your jaw. “You’re right.”

A triumphant smile spreads across your face at his words. “Exactly.”

***

From his spot on the couch, Spencer watches guiltily as you hustle and bustle about in the kitchen, grabbing plates and filling them to the brim with the food you ordered from the Chinese place he loves. He feels bad seeing you work so hard looking after him; especially when you have your own workload to take care of. He doesn’t even notice that you’ve already placed his portion of food in front of him until you whack him lightly on his head with some napkins.

“Stop it. I know what you’re thinking.” You shoot him a half-hearted glare as you snap open your chopsticks. “I want to do this. I truly don’t mind.”

“You’re already doing so much,” he insists, “I’m okay, angel, I swear.”

You are not easily convinced and you point to the list of things the doctor suggested you to do in order to ensure Spencer’s speedy recovery. “I have a responsibility, Walter. What will your team do without you?”

“They’ll live,” he assures, reaching a hand out to massage the muscles by your shoulders. “I think you’ve seen me naked more the past two weeks than you have our entire relationship.”

“Well it’s not my fault that you need to bathe,” you argue, stabbing at your noodles. “You love it really.”

His cheeks burn with embarrassment at the accusation. “I do not! It’s humiliating.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you soothe, smiling at him. “Besides, it’ll only be like this for a little while longer.”

“If you consider five months to be ‘a little while longer’,” he quips as he shovels food into his mouth.

You let out a laugh, not finding offence is his sarcastic blow. He thinks you’re a blessing and he figures that you definitely are. Who else can deal with the problems of him being, well, him aside from you? Spencer doesn’t know what he would do without you. How could he when you manage to push all the darkness and negativity away?

“I’m lucky to have you,” he says finally, his gaze on your face. “You’re so good to me.”

You hum in response, wiping your mouth and curling into his good side, draping an arm over his middle. “That’s true. You’re good to me, too.”

He brings his hand over your waist and kisses the side of your face in an act of reciprocation. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat crawls up your neck to your ears at the sudden compliment and you can’t help the silly bashful smile that pulls at your lips. Your mouth opens and closes, deciding on what to respond with before you settle with a simple, “Thank you.”

It’s the honest truth. There’s a look about you that tells him that you don’t believe it, but he doesn’t say anything more to try and convince you. He tells it to you everyday; he’s sure that you’ll end up accepting the compliments more readily. Your being beautiful might have been what had drawn him to you in the first place. Although he isn’t entirely sure. He recalls a certain folktale about invisible stings and how it was tying him to you. There’s something pretty about that thought, the mere idea that you were made for him and he was lucky enough to actually hold you in his arms.

You’ve turned the television on now, a romance movie playing on the screen with familiar actors. It’s supposed to be a comedy, at least that was what the description on the DVD said, about the main male lead reminiscing about his year that he spent with some manic pixie dream girl. Spencer doesn’t understand how that could be comedic but you seem to enjoy it.

Spencer has tuned out the movie now, finding entertainment in the reactions you have. Your face morphs into different emotions with each dramatic scene and in that moment Spencer realises one very important thing.

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“What was that?” you ask obliviously and you lift your eyes to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he dismisses, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Just keep watching the movie, angel.”

reblogs are always appreciated!

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sprout-fics · 11 months

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No bc I’ve been thinking about omega verse 141 and I want to know every single thought you have rattling around in ur beautiful head. I’m on my hands and knees begging 💕💕

Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons

(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)

(Part Three: Interest)

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Omega discrimination, Slow burn

Masterlist

Things are...different after you get back from the mission where your heat broke

Price has sworn the team to secrecy, but it doesn't do much good, because your designation gets revealed pretty quickly

You're told by the base medic that you are forbidden from continuing the suppressants who have been using, because of their extremely toxic side-effects. The same medic mandates you for a 3 month long detox period to completely flush the suppressants from your body before you can continue a more prescribed set

You're furious about it, but recognize that if you continue to hide your designation the way you've been doing, it could last with some very very negative side-effects, and you aren't exactly keen on having your comrades assist you through a heat again

Not because they weren't...good...but because it's just so damn fucking awkward. How the hell are you supposed to ask your COs to fuck you through a heat? Fuck. That.

Without your suppressants, you're forced to walk around base blaring your scent to anyone who passes by. It causes quite a stir, considering everyone thought you'd been a beta up until that point

It also means that you get a number of unwanted advances from those interested in an unclaimed omega. You manage to brush them off and chase them away for the most part, up until you don't

You get cornered after training by a group of soldiers who pick at you for hiding your designation, for being unclaimed, for being an omega

You feel your heart thump up your chest, trying to find a way to dart past them when a huge, looming shadow falls over you all

Ghost stares down at the group like they're insects. Displeasure and contempt written clear across his face. He barely needs to speak before the group is scampering off with tails tucked between their legs

Ghost doesn't advance where they have left space, merely nods at you and continues on his way

It's...startling and relieving all at once, and you realize quickly that the team is more than happy to provide scary guard dog privileges when you need them

It's Soap who tries to bridge the gap first. Soap offers advice about navigating as an omega, and even though he's claimed you find it's helpful to have a friend

That's the other thing though. You realize Soap is constantly sporting a healthy amount of alpha scent marking from not one but two alphas. It takes a bit to wrap your head around, but you suppose it makes sense with how close they all are

You ignore the tug in your stomach that wishes you had that too

Somehow the group has taken a liking to you, and at first you think it's purely sexual based off them helping you through your abrupt heat

Yet there's offerings to help you get adjusted. A pillowcase left in your locker that smells like one of them, one of them gently bumping you in the hallway to rub a dose of scent on you, getting used to sitting with one of them during meals to chase away unwanted courters

It's nice, you admit. You enjoy their company. Soap is lively and playful, Gaz is sweet and has wry humor that makes you smile. It's uncommon for you to eat with Price, but when you do there's a comfortable mentorship there that has your shoulders go a little lax in relief

Ghost is known to occasionally join you all, but you know the lieutenant prefers to eat in the privacy of his room. He makes up for it in other ways, looms behind you when you're facing down another group of alphas who have taken an interest in you, checking in on you from afar. Silent but present. Watching.

You find yourself slowly developing friendships with them all, smiling when you see them, opening up to them and realizing maybe there's more to their advances than you originally guessed

You think perhaps they want you too

#poly 141 x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #omegaverse tf 141 #omegaverse cod #omegaverse dynamics #omegaverse #drabbles #headcanons

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lost-and-ephemeral · 4 months

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What would the LaD boys do if the reader was sick?

Imagine: Get Well Soon (ft. main trio)

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: fluff, comfort, you are sick

A/N: as a person with really weak immune system i wish someone would take care of me too

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´-

Zayne

"I'm prescribing bed rest for you for the next few days. No objections."

No matter how hard Zayne is trying to hide his concern for you behind a mask of indifference, you could still tell how he feels from his tone.

Either way, you're in the best possible hands.

Considering his job, he can't just leave everything and rush to you. He's got surgeries scheduled. But you can be sure he'll spend all his free time with you until you get better. And if you ask, he can lie down next to you.

He'll take care of cooking and will make sure you take your medicine on time. He may be a little strict with you, but that is only because Zayne really cares about you. You need cold compresses? Give him a minute. You're thirsty because of the fever? He's already brought you a glass of warm water. Hugs? Well, why not, since love is the best medicine.

Zayne is calm and collected, he knows exactly what needs to be done. So all you have to do is lie down and get well while he takes care of you and covers all your needs.

"Sleep. Your body needs to rest so it can recover faster. I'll be here."

Xavier

"It may not have turned out very tasty, but I really tried."

Poor Xavier, being very caring and sweet, is simply incompatible with cooking. Even when it comes to chicken soup. But he'll try for you this time.

Although you ended up agreeing on the fact that he'd just order delivery, rather than accidentally setting your kitchen on fire while trying to cook something else.

He'll try to take a couple days off to stay with you until you get better. Just so he doesn't have to worry about your health getting worse while he's on a mission.

He will make sure you have everything you need, especially a warm blanket. And if that blanket isn't enough, he can always keep you warm with his embrace. No, Xavier is not afraid of getting sick himself, he is confident in his immune system.

Most likely to fall asleep along with you at some point, cuddling you and resting his head on your chest. You will benefit from sleep, and he just needs it to recharge his energy. So it's a win-win.

"Just let me know if you need anything. Don't even hesitate to ask me."

Rafayel

"Don't worry, I won't let this teeny-weeny sickness stop us from spending time together. You'll get better soon under my care."

Rafayel sounds really confident, but he's actually worried. He just knows how to hide it well behind a thick layer of false self-confidence.

And he will never admit that he felt like a lost child for a minute.

Rafayel won't want to leave your side for a single minute and will make the coziest nest in the bed for you. Of course, someone has to go and buy some meds, because it's impossible to find any in the chaos of his studio, so that falls to Thomas.

Poor Thomas.

Luckily, he can cook quite well on his own, so you won't have any trouble with that. In any case, he can always order a delivery too.

Will spend as much time with you as you need and bring you whatever you want. Paintings can wait, he'll always be able to finish them on time. Besides, maybe he'll find inspiration from being with you.

Not afraid to get sick either, so he'll cuddle you 24/7, telling you that comes into his mind until you feel like sleeping.

"See? Told you I can take great care of you."

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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kremlin · 4 months

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@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

#posts i will be deleting

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orphicdreamers-wp · 5 months

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It’s Not Christmas Without You— Quinn Hughes

Summary: Your seasonal depression gets the best of your relationship leading to an awkward Christmas

Content Warnings: Seasonal depression, panic & anxiety attacks, use of antidepressants, ocd, chemical imbalance, angsty hughes brothers

Pairing; Ex Gf! Reader x Quinn Hughes

September

You had never quite understood why your brain felt so hardwired to the point you couldn’t comprehend anything happening around you. It affected everything you did, but no one could put their finger on why sometimes things got to be much for you it brought you to tears. For the most part, your boyfriend Quinn tried to help you but when the weather in Vancouver shifted just as he’d been named captain. He just couldn’t do it anymore, he tried but it was draining him.

You sat cross legged in the center of Quinn’s living room, reorganizing his CD collection for the third time this week. Quinn sighed as he entered his apartment, coming home from a rough roadie, all he wanted was to take a scorching shower and talk to you while you guys laid in his bed watching a cheesy movie. He didn’t utter a word as he walked past to his room and dropped his stuff off before returning to his living room and letting out a sigh, “The CDS haven’t magically moved since Tuesday dollface.”

You ignored your boyfriend, again. Quinn blew out a breath he’d been holding in for god knows how long, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He expected you to protest against him trying to break up with him, but you didn’t. Which somehow made Quinn more upset at the entire ordeal, “So your fine with just throwing away the last 6 years?” You kept quiet, knowing that if you dared to speak you would say something that you and Quinn couldn’t come back from. So you stayed silent as you stood up and slipped on your shoes and grabbed your coat and walked out of Quinn’s apartment and his life.

You returned to your shared loft with your friend Tess and finally let your composure fall. A wretched sob ripped through your chest as you leaned against the door and slid to sit against the wall. Tess hurried out of her bedroom and was at your side in seconds, “Oh honey. It’s okay.” You felt like someone was wrapping barbed wire around your throat, “I can’t, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something isn’t right Tess.” Your breathing began to quicken as your chest tightened. Tess rubbed your back reassuringly, “I got you.” You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. Once you were calm you turned to Tess, “Quinn and I broke up. I think I need to go home and get help.” And that was exactly what you did.

You went back to Toronto and moved back into your childhood bedroom, went to a neurologist and found out that your brain had an insufficient amount of neurotransmitters which could play part in your moods. The doctor told you that you needed to boost your serotonin and dopamine levels and prescribed you antidepressants and referred you to a women’s mental health clinic. You noticed slowly that your mood became less negative and you were able to focus better. But you also noticed that you began to get thinner and no matter what you did it never seemed like you gained weight.

December

You were reluctant to go to the Hughes Christmas dinner, although Ellen had reassured you that you were more than welcome. You still had your bad days and didn’t know if being around Quinn would make you snap and you didn’t want to snap at him. So you told your mother you’d think about it but that she should go. Which she did. You mother and Ellen were in grossed in a conversation over linens when Luke finally mentioned you, “So I guess she really doesn’t have anything to say to you Quinn. She would never miss out on Dad’s meatballs.” Quinn shot his brother a glare as your mother spoke softly, “She’s just having a hard time right now, her meds are messing with her.” Ellen smiled solemnly, “How is she adjusting to her antidepressants?”

Quinn looked taken aback learning your on antidepressants now, “Is she okay?” Your mom smiled as she lifted her wine glass to her lips, “Her doctor told her she doesn’t have sufficient neurotransmitters and it’s a chemical imbalance in her brain that’s made her feel like this all these years. The doctor said there’s a good chance coupled with the harsh weather and seasonal depression that’s what made her feel so poorly. Nothing you could have done would have helped Quinn.” Jack rolled his eyes subtly, “So because she’s mentally not okay, we’re supposed to be fine with her destroying Quinn?” Ellen glared at her middle child, “Jack! If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say sit.”

You stared at the stack of wrapped gifts you had gotten for each member of the Hughes family. You sighed as you slid off the couch and pulled on a dark red sweater and some jeans and took the gifts to your car and made your way to the Hughes family home. You were unsure of what would happen when you walked in but you were facing your fears today. You rang the doorbell, not expecting Quinn to be on the other side of the door.

His eyes held an unreadable expression that you had grown to miss. You were almost positive that you had lost your voice when he spoke, “Hey.” You smiled, “Hi, you look uh great.” Quinn rubbed his neck as a deep blush rolled over his cheeks, “Thanks. You do too.” He took some of the gifts as you I walked inside the house and placed your gifts with the rest of the gifts under the tree. You slipped your coat off and hung it in the closet with the others. Quinn frowned ever so slightly when he took note of how the jeans that had once hugged your body in all the right places were loose on you and how you looked at him like you might break if you looked at him long enough.

Ellen’s voice rang out from the dining room, “Who was it honey?” You smiled warmly as you entered the dining room behind Quinn, “Hi.” Ellen’s eyes glimmered with excitement as she hopped up and pulled you into a bone crushing hug, “We’re so glad you could make it after all. Right guys?” The Hughes men muttered out agreements. You sat down at the only empty seat which, as the universe was punishing you, was directly across from Jack with Quinn sitting beside you. Conversation flowed between you and everyone besides Jack and Quinn.

Jack spoke up in condescending tone, “So Y/N what have you been up to since you and Quinn broke up?” Jack let out a groan as Quinn swiftly kicked him underneath the table. You felt your smile drop, “I moved back home like 3 days after. I’ve been getting a lot of help. Working on understanding my feelings.” Jack hummed, “Seeing anyone? You sure are slimming down.” You tensed as you drew in a deep breath, “Nope. Wouldn’t be fair to a poor guy. I’m still in love with someone and I’m not sure relationships are for me. But can we just talk about your game against the Red Wings? I mean I was on my seat the entire time.”

Jack’s smirk fell, “You still watch my games?” You shrugged, “I watched Trev kick your ass. I also watched Quinn hand the Sharks the biggest loss. I didn’t stop watching hockey because I got broken up with.” You melted into Quinn’s touch as he placed a hand on your thigh. He mouthed inaudibly, ‘Thank you’ Dinner ended and Ellen insisted on going straight to presents. You smiled warmly as Jack and Luke opened their gifts from you. You You played more into a joke with Jack. It was a shirt that read ‘Straight Outta The Penalty Box.’ Jack’s gift sent his brother’s into laughter while Jack sent you a playful eye roll, “Now I know she actually watches my games still.” Luke’s gift seemed to be more fitting for him, he opened the box and ran his fingers over the soft tie that was adorned with red hockey sticks, “Thank you.” You smiled as Quinn picked up his gift from you, “I didn’t know what to get you so with my luck you’ll probably hate it.”

Quinn opened the box and his eyes softened as he looked at the gift, “You remembered. Why would I hate this?” He pulled out the large cooling weighted blanket. You barely remembered him mentioning wanting one. Apparently your subconscious remembered. Quinn’s eyes softened as you began to tidy up the wrapping paper as everyone continued to open gifts.

Without being noticed Quinn slipped into his childhood bedroom and opened his bag and pulled out a small gift wrapped box. He slipped it into his pocket and returned to the living room. His eyes immediately were on you as you clasped a necklace around his mother’s neck. Soon enough all the gifts were opened and Quinn spoke warmly, “I actually have a gift for you Y/N.” Your eyes widened, “O-okay.” Quinn slipped the small box from his pocket and placed it in your hand. By the size alone you knew it was jewelry of some sort.

You opened the box and your eyes widened and swelled with tears, “You can’t. Not with how horrible I was to you.” Quinn shook his head, “No I can. I have loved you since I have known you. I don’t care if your going through the worst thing possible. I love you and I just wanna be there for you no matter what. For the rest of my life. I want to be your husband. Marry me.” Your eyes welled, “I don’t know if I can give you the life you want Quinn.” Quinn shook his head as he pulled you closer to him, which you didn’t think was humanly possible, “The life I want is waking up to you pressing your ice cold feet to my legs to warm them up, the life I want is holding your purse so you can stop and pet every stray cat you see. The life I want is anytime and everything as long as you are there. You are the one good thing in my life.” You sniffled, “Fine I’ll marry you.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #hockey player x reader #fanfic #hockey #nhl #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #qh43 #jack Hughes #luke hughes

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i-cant-sing · 1 year

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What are your thoughts on the yandere haikyuu teams x their manager?

Boring. I need some spice in it. How about-

Yandere Daichi as a cop and his darling is a civilian and now he's so obsessed with her that he murders her husband, frames him as a criminal and will literally stop at nothing to get darling in his arms because again... who will suspect good old, everybody's best bud COP Daichi to be able to do heinous crimes???

Yandere Sugawara as a psychiatrist because come on- he gives major "master manipulator" vibes and now he's obsessed with his darling patient and will continue to do malpractice and gaslight her and prescribe her all the wrong meds until she loses it and he gets to admit it her under his "special care" and now he can play with her mind all day long🤍

Yandere Oikawa is now a pro volleyball athlete and he just saw Ushijima's little sis, the same one he used to bully and even rejected (and ofc, HUMILIATED) when she confessed to him back in highschool. But now Oikawa's obsessed with her and also still hates his nemesis Ushijima, so what's better than killing two birds with one stone??? And Oikawa still has a very devoted fanclub, only now it's larger and more powerful than ever so now he uses them and his socials to peer pressure you into dating him and eventually, marrying him because he ain't getting any younger honey and he needs some cute babies out of you ASAP.

Yandere Kuroo who is the smart IT tech guy at your office but in reality, he has his own cyber security company that he uses to spy on you, controls your entire life through your socials and don't even get me started on your online banking shit. If its any consolation, he's very rich so... yeah. He may not look like a million bucks, but he does have them. In several offshore accounts.

Yandere Kita who somehow ended up as a mafia leader, probably inherited it as family business and he has like severe OCD so he wants everything done to perfection or so help you, you will 1000% end up 6 feet under. Mafia Kita who has this vision of you being the perfect wife, solely based om the one time you offered him your handkerchiefs because he had a nosebleed from stressing too much and now Kita thinks you're an absolute angel and he wont let you destroy that fantasy of his. Seriously. He will pick out your outfits, tell you how to act and all, punish you if he must, but he does love you.

Yandere Ushijima who is a farmer and has decided that the reader whose car broke down and came to his door asking for help, will now be his wife and be a countryside mom to many kids (u can't say no, okay? He wants a big family) and animals! But hey, he's a very caring husband and will massage your feet, give you baths and feed you his homegrown veggies and meals daily once you are round with his babies🥺

Yandere Bokuto who is now a popular politician and he needs an obedient wife to keep up appearances and play the "family man" image up. So he decides to threaten reader who had a one night stand with him, and Bokuto somehow has very intimate images and videos of you and he uses them to get you to marry him. And now he controls every aspect of your life and tells you to do exactly as he says, and he abuses this privilege more as he gets more powerful and you could only imagine the horrors he would inflict on you if he does actually win elections, but you can't run away because again- he has eyes and contacts everywhere.

#yandere daichi #yandere daichi sawamura #yandere bokuto #yandere ushijima x reader #yandere ushijima wakatoshi #yandere ushijima #yandere kuroo #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru #yandere kita #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyu x reader #yandere sugawara

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sabertoothwalrus · 13 days

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OK PREFACING WITH IM SORRY IF I ALREADY SENT THIS EXACT ASK BUT MY WIFI KILLED ITSSLF AS I SENT IT SO IDK IF IT ACTUALLY WENT THROUGH. but in case it didn’t . i know youve gotten this countless times in the past because i blog stalked just in case youve mentioned something similar before but i need to know if you have any specific inspirations when you draw exaggerated expressions specifically like these two images of marcille. ive actually cried laughing over this comic and being able to communicate this type of visceral emotion is such an insane skill and ive followed your art for probably close to a decade through various fandoms so watching you develop this style has been fucking awesome and epic. like i cannot articulate how funny these are to me i just need you to understand i look at this comic to inspire me to draw now. the closest comparison i can draw to the feelings they evoke are like those mspaint reaction images and also mspaint tails i included for reference even though you probably know exactly what im talking about anyways but its actually so much harder to do that intentionally when you study art. also i lied you literally don’t even need to answer this i just had to let you know how obsessed i am over your silly comics and now ive written out a whole ass discussion post about it. im sorry if this is weird at all i think my daily prescribed amphetamines r wearing off and i know this is such a dumb specific thing to fixate on and im so sorry if its not something you want to hear about your art. ive just always seen that as an artist this type of expressive stupid silly style is something that comes after a significant amount of time and practice and study and style development despite being “simple” in theory. its just so cool to have worked with your own style so much that youre able to go “off model” from it and still maintain consistency with the rest of the piece. i said it already and im sorry this is actually rendundant now but the ability to communicate such raw emotion somehow decreases from at its height when someone is a beginner artist learning how to proportion and keep a steady line and what looks “normal” but somehow it all comes full circle because taking all that experience and using it to almost return to where you started but in a fully informed and intentional way so you can make choices to draw characters like this when the situation calls for it is just dhcidogakgoshfhw. i think i need to cut myself off or im going to talk in circles im sorry tumblr user sabertoothwalrus i just am fascinated by your style and progress and the years you’ve dedicated to art can be seen in so many places but this is just one that stands out to me specifically.

MMMMM what a fun question!!!

I'm not gonna lie, I think it's just Letting A Drawing Be Bad. I definitely think the people that struggle with this the most are people who have genuinely very pretty art styles, to the point of being kind of perfectionist about it. and to Draw Funny often means Drawing Fast and Weird. Pretty is kind of the antithesis of funny (unless being pretty is the punchline). do drawings that make yourself laugh. tracing/lining funny sketches almost always makes them less funny.

one of my favorite types of humor is when it skews more deadpan, actually. This is one of the reasons I love Adventure Time. minimal expressions and flat line delivery + absurd context is a really good combo. the key to comedy has more to do with contrast! if your drawings are allllll crazy ren & stimpy all the time, they're not funny anymore cause it's just "normal". if it's all subdued UNTIL it's extreme, and vice versa, then it's funny. The reason this comic is so funny is because of the complete lack of any expression. I feel like the one you sent of Marcille shouting "WHAT" is funnier when you know how much she tries to be dainty and feminine and delicate, how much she values her appearance, and how averse she is to "gross" or "weird" things.

something I find really annoying (and this is with comics/animation in general, not the expressions themselves) is when the joke goes on for too long. Like you'll have the joke, then the punchline, and THEN the characters reacting to the punchline??? Like the author didn't trust that their audience would find the joke funny, so they basically drew in a laugh track. But, this is distinct from a character's reaction being the punchline (like how the examples you gave from my Marcille comic are). MY POINT IS sometimes expressions aren't as funny on their own as you think, and context can affect how you feel about it!

as far as inspirations go!

my own face! even if I don't have a mirror, I like making the expressions myself so I can "feel" where the points of tension on my face are, and it gives me a sense of what to exaggerate.

my brother's art, believe it or not! we've been trying to make each other laugh with our drawings since we were kids, and he's really good at it.

ATLA has some great expressions

OK KO has been a reallyyyy good source for me lately. That show is so tailored to my sense of humor and the expressions and line deliveries feel exactly like the kinds of things I'd come up with. The tone, timing, and art style are all really close to the tv show pitch I'm working on, so when I feel like I've "strayed" too much from it (like after drawing a bunch of dungeon meshi, and my art feels tighter and... idk "manga-ier"?) I like to go and watch a couple episodes of OK KO to loosen back up

A lot of things like OG Spongebob, Calvin & Hobbes, the Simpsons, Chowder, etc etc

memes in general. if it makes you laugh, keep it in mind

and lastly, I wouldn't say I ever try to mimic funny expressions I see. Like if I watch a show for inspo, I'm not pausing it to copy specific drawings, I'm just trying to notice patterns and pay attention to what about it I find funny.

talking about being funny is really bizarre and I dunno if it makes it lose some of the magic. Ultimately it's something you can't think about too much, and just gotta go with your gut.

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carrill · 6 months

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i have a soft spot for doctor themed porn. just going in for a checkup and having a hot older doctor tell me that my bloodwork came back with just a little lower testosterone than it should have, but there's a nice way to bump it up. it's a medical procedure, perfectly standard and safe, even if it's a little uncommon, he says, as i lie on the table and he takes off my underwear. i can feel the cold drips of lubricant over the curve of my ass, dripping towards my hole. he explains that the mucous membrane makes it really easy to absorb things, so if he gives me a supplement directly, it'll have my levels just right, and it'll be easy since im such a good boy, and good boys deserve to feel nice during their treatment, right?

and the doctor tells me exactly what he's doing and what a model patient i am as he slowly preps and spreads me open. i can hear his pants unzip and his cock presses against my entrance. it's just an easy little testosterone injection, and there's hormones in ejaculate, and this should feel so much better than a needle. just relax, good boy, he says as he presses into me, and i do, because i am a model patient. he's just giving a treatment to help me. he's professional the entire time he fucks my ass, as i try to keep my moans quiet so as not to disturb anyone in the other waiting rooms. the doctor pumps me full of cum, just like was prescribed, and takes a plug out of the draw to keep my hole from leaking out all the important semen he gave me, so he can be sure i get everything i can out of it. it's just an experimental treatment, though, so i'll need monitoring. he tells me to come back next week for a recheck. or, maybe even a house call might be in order, just to make sure.

#doctor kink #trans mlm

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veryberryjelly · 4 months

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hey girl!!! I think ur still writing for jake from b99 (hopefully) so i was wondering if i could request him with a reader who's on her period and she's working, jake brings her home and comforts her (cause her cramps are rlly bad) <3

jake peralta x fem!reader

cw : reader is described as female, reader has truly bad cramps

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

as a woman, one of the necessities of life was making sure you could function during your period.

if you didn't have a way to cope, it was hard, or almost impossible to do day to day tasks such as going to work.

and you had your emergency kit in your desk drawer. heating pad, tampons, spare underwear, pads and some pills your doctor had prescribed to you when you explained how bad your cramps could get.

and while you would usually replenish your kit a few days before your period started, you hadn't expected the wave of cramps that overtook you as you sat at your desk.

"shit-" you muttered under your breath when you felt the first one.

you were quick to open your drawer and look for the familiar yellow bottle, only to find it empty.

your stomach dropped and another cramp rolled through your abdomen.

you couldn't do much about it now, only put on a heating pad, change your underwear and put on a pad.

so that's exactly what you did. you grabbed your necessary supplies and headed towards the bathroom, making an extra effort to walk straight instead of hunched over.

you felt a pair of eyes on you briefly but just ignored it, knowing your priority at the moment.

when you returned to your desk, heating pad in place over your abdomen, you felt a tiny bit better, but the cramps were still coming fierce and fast.

it must've been the crease in your brow that alerted jake of your discomfort because after a few moments you saw a figure sit down at the side of your desk.

you picked your eyes up to find his familiar brown eyes. a soft smile settled briefly on your lips.

" what's up ?" you questioned, dropping your pen down on your desk quietly as to not aggravate the headache you could feel forming.

" you doing okay ?" he questioned, his voice quiet and comforting.

you should've known jake would notice you acting off. he knew you too well not to notice.

" yeah, i'm fine-" you paused momentarily when you felt a stabbing pain in your lower back. " just cramps "

early on in your relationship jake had found out just how bad your cramps could be. after you had to cancel a date last minute saying you were unwell and he showed up to your apartment with takeout. you had just been honest with him and told him you got really bad cramps.

he wasn't rude or grossed out, he just asked how he could help and you ended the night curled on your couch with his arm draped over your stomach, his palm splayed out under your t-shirt on your abdomen.

since that night he had always been there when you needed him to be.

" v'you taken anything ?" he questioned, his voice still slightly hushed.

" haven't replenished my prescription "

a small hiss came from his lips as he took in the repercussions of you not having the thing that made these few days more bearable for you.

" d'you want me to go and refill it for you ?" his suggestion made your heart melt and you reached your hand over to squeeze his hand lightly.

" it's okay, i can wait a couple hours. can we go by the pharmacy on the way home, though ?" you asked to which he nodded immediately.

he gave your hand a small squeeze, giving you a comforting smile before he departed back to his own desk.

you thought you could wait until the end of the work day, but your cramps only worsened over the next hour.

you couldn't focus on your case reports over the stabbing pain through your body.

" c'mon i'm taking you home "

you lifted your head to find jake stood by your desk, his jacket on and his bag over his shoulder.

" jake, you don't have to do this. i'm fine, and we've both got st-"

" would you just let me do this for you? i talked to holt and he's giving you the afternoon off and i'm taking you home. " the way he said it left almost no room for discussion. he was taking you home and that was the end of it.

you didn't debate with him, just pulled your jacket over your shoulders and picked up your bag.

his hand slipped easily into yours as the two of you walked out of the precinct and down towards the parking lot.

the drive back to your apartment wasn't a long one, it felt a lot better after jake hopped out at the pharmacy and returned to the car with your prescription in his hand along with a bottle of water.

when you arrived home, jake told you to go and shower, change and get settled on the couch while he made some tea.

you were quick to go into your bedroom, grab one of jake's t-shirts and a pair of long pyjama pants and get take them into the bathroom.

your shower was quick but definitely made you feel a bit better. when you stepped out you changed into the clothes you had gotten out and walked out into the living room.

you found jake sat on the couch on his phone, a mug of tea on the coffee table beside a hot water bottle and one of your cosiest blankets on the couch.

nothing was said as you sat down and leant into jake's frame, his arms wrapping around you swiftly. he simply offered you the remote and made minimal comments when you put on a film you both enjoyed.

though as much as you enjoyed it, your head went limp against jake's chest within the first half an hour.

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mousedetective · 3 months

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Please Help A Mostly Queer/Disabled Homeless Family Pay Off Their Debt?

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

VENMO: @penaltywaltz | CASHAPP: $afteriwake23 | ZELLE: DM me for email address

03/05/24

So good news! We're in a 30-day shelter with a caseworker and help from the City of Encinitas Homeless Support Program to get housing with 30 days. It's a brand new shelter and we're all together in a room with the cats, and they're really eager to help get us out of our homeless situation.

Right now, we have about $1000 in money we can save up each month. If we can pay off the debts that my mom owes that she's in credit consolidation for, that frees up another $187 each month. If I can pay off my installment loan, which is four payments totaling $475, that frees up another $124 a month. I think my mom just paid off a credit card debt, but we have $100 debt that I think has gone to collections, $500 we need to pay on a card before that one goes to collections, and $300 for my PayPal 4 in 4 payments. We also have two payday loans I'd like to pay off before they're due at $600.

So if I can cover all that debt this month, we'll have well over $1,500 to put towards a rental payment in May, if we can get help with a security deposit and first month's rent through housing programs. We might be able to afford a two bedroom apartment in Fallbrook with that much. We'd need to come up with money to move our stuff out of storage as well, but a friend of mine has covered the big units until April 1st and may cover them an extra month if needed.

Any help would be amazing. We are so close to getting out of hotels/our car and into something stable. I'm setting the goal at $3000 for now because I don't have wifi at the shelter and can't check exactly how much my mom owes for her debt consolidation still.

But any extra will help with gas to get to places where we can get things we need (birth certificates, Lena's social security card with her dead name, Lena's psych eval, my mom's dental stuff, and doctor/therapy appointments) and food in case the snafu with my food stamps isn't fixed right away (we get three meals here, which is fine for me and Lena, but my mom is basically still on a soft food/liquid diet and they're still needing to get stuff for her and the gentleman here who has no teeth).

Please help if you can, and please reblog as well! We would all greatly appreciate it.

$2500/$5000

EDIT: We found out today that Lena is currently uninsured. The meds she was prescribed for her mood disorder are $1,500 out of pocket. She needs the medication badly. Please help?

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writer-in-theory · 4 months

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you're gonna go far, love — spencer reid.

“I’ve been ready for you to come home for so long that I didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone.” —Noah Kahan (Orange Juice)

Summary: After Spencer relapses, he takes the first flight out of Virginia with no plan other than to get a fresh start. Or, my take on where he was for Evolution. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader (not the focus, but it's there) Category: Hurt/Comfort WC: 2k Content Warnings: Discussions of relapse, Mentions of alcohol, Slight spoiler for the ending of Evolution S1 (despite the fact I still haven't finished it myself) Notes: This is for the New Beginnings challenge hosted by @imagining-in-the-margins and based on a prompt from @foxy-eva , so thank you so much to you lovely people. This fic comes 2 years after my last CM fic, and a few months since I've written anything at all, so thank you for the inspiration 💜

Spencer booked the first flight out of Virginia five days after it happened.

The person at the counter may have said the destination, but it floated straight past his ears and was carried far away. Within hours, everything he’d spent the past two decades building was left thirty thousand feet below him.

Emily would be hurt. Everyone would be, as each of them heard the news as they one-by-one came into the office tomorrow. But it would be Emily, who was the first to notice the cracks in his once carefully crafted facade all those years ago, who would feel the most betrayed by his sudden escape.

You should’ve at least said goodbye.

It was what Spencer had been most upset by when Emily had faked her death. After everything they’d been through together, after all of the joy they brought into each others’ incredibly stressful lives, all Spencer had needed was the chance to say goodbye and know that she was out there, somewhere, happy.

Hopefully, she’d understand why he had to leave now, though.

Everyone in the BAU had figured out by now that the Spencer Reid who walked out of prison was not the same as the one who’d first stepped into it. Some piece of him—and even now, he wasn’t sure how large that piece was—had been laid bare and morphed beyond even his own recognition. The loss of that part of him ached in the way that losing a loved one did, that sharp stabbing sort of ache that would appear so suddenly that he didn’t know how to handle it.

There was no way to explain it to the rest of the team, though, no matter how supportive they tried to be. The fact was that none of them had ever nor would ever go through what he exactly had, and for not the first time in his life, Spencer began to feel like a rip current was sweeping him away from the steadiness of shore.

It wasn’t until he was far enough away from shore that he couldn’t see the relief of the sands that his mind recalled that he’d been prescribed painkillers several months prior.

It wasn’t the same as what Tobias Hankel had given him so many years ago, nor was it the alternatives he’d managed to find in the months after, but it was devastatingly similar enough that he’d tried to convince the emergency room doctor not to order it in the first place. ‘Pick it up anyway, just in case. No one can recover from a gunshot wound without pain relief.’

He’d almost flushed the amber bottle’s contents the day he’d gotten them, but the bone-deep feeling that had eased with time but never truly gone away kept him from fully eliminating that option from his life. Why should one thing that had happened to him years ago deny him proper pain relief now, should he need it? So they’d sat untouched, locked away in his gun safe for months.

Until five days ago.

After well over a decade in recovery, Spencer knew this was always a possibility. He’d seen friends go through the same thing and had been there to support them in whatever ways he could because no matter how many times it happened the initial feelings of shock, shame, and overbearing grief could be just as overwhelming as the first.

A day after, when he’d woken up and realized just what had occurred, Spencer had walked himself to the nearest NA meeting. Like he was on auto-pilot, he moved through every piece of advice he had gathered through the years—the stories of success and the stories of forced learning serving as guides to him. It wasn’t the first time Spencer had relapsed (a word that still struck fear in him to even think about), nor would it likely be the last time he was forced to confront this part of his past.

Still, this was the first time Spencer walked out of the building, packed a bag, and made a silent escape from the city he called home. There was something different about this time, though he had no idea where to even begin considering the specifics of why.

He ended up in Cincinnati, Ohio.

In all the years he’d been with the BAU, they’d never once been called there. It was like every other city Spencer had been in in many ways—the buildings towering above him as he walked, the river that bordered the city mirroring the home he’d just left, even down to the FBI headquarters that was quiet now in the middle of the night. Still, he couldn’t help but feel as though it were completely separate from everything he’d known before, because the melancholy Spencer had been sitting in for the last five days had suddenly turned comforting amongst the atmosphere of the city.

He ended up in a bar, of all places. It was the kind that only served nonalcoholic drinks, the kind of place where people like him could sit without feeling outside of the norm. Music was playing softly in the background, and though it was busy there was only a gentle rumble of conversation in the room.

“You’re staring at that glass like it’ll kill you. It’s safe, Scout’s honor.” The teasing voice surprised Spencer out of the careful contemplation he’d fallen into. It came from the bartender, who was busying themselves with wiping down a few glasses, stood just on the other side of the bar in front of him.

“You know, that only works if you were actually a scout,” Spencer returned, though raised the glass to his lips after. It was sweet—a little too sweet by his standards, though it was a comfort now after the week he’d had.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” the bartender said back. They looked comfortable here, like this sober bar were an extension of their own home. At one time, the BAU office had been the same for him. “You look like you could use a friendly face, and that just happens to be my favorite part of the job.”

“Part of the job…?”

“Oh you know, bartenders are the therapists for the lonely, or something like that.” They were comfortable, and more open to an effective stranger than Spencer ever thought possible. It was refreshing in a way, to be able to talk with them without having to worry about what case information he could get out of them. It wasn’t often, anymore, that he could relax and talk to someone just to talk to them. “What brings you to the Queen City?”

“I moved here,” Spencer answered automatically, looking down sheepishly at his glass before adding, “today, actually.”

“Oh, congrats then. New job?”

“More like a new start.”

It was quiet for only a moment before the bartender asked in a softer voice, “How long had it been?”

Spencer almost asked them what they meant, until he met their gaze. They had their full attention on him now, glasses left abandoned on the inner part of the bar. They’d been kind from the start, but the look they gave him now was the sort of pure understanding that made Spencer realize all at once what they were referring to.

“How did you know?”

The bartender sighed, though there was no sadness to it at all. They pulled something from their pocket, sliding it gently across the bar so Spencer could see. A metallic chip was place between them, silver on the outside and filled in with a green-blue color and a “V” engraved in the middle of it. It was different from the ones he’d used, but he recognized the meaning of it all the same.

“I opened this place because the day I relapsed, five years ago now, I’d had nowhere to go after. There wasn’t anywhere people like us could go and relax without having to answer the tough questions, like why I drank orange juice instead of ‘what all the other adults were drinking’. It seemed silly at the time, but I think I was just looking for somewhere I could feel normal.”

“My family were the ones who helped me get sober, and sometimes they still forget and will ask me why I’m not drinking.” Spencer returned the sentiment with a light laugh. He loved everyone in the BAU, and even though it had only been a few days he already missed them terribly, but it was nice to have someone there who understood what he was feeling, what he was going through now.

“Exactly!” The bartender said, following Spencer’s lead and letting out a laugh of their own. “Though I can’t say I ever moved to a new city because of it.”

“It was the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done,” Spencer admitted. “I…really needed a fresh start. I needed somewhere noone knew who I was, somewhere I could get a completely different job and…I don’t know, figure out who I am.”

The bartender nodded. “Sounds about right. This family you left behind, are you gonna go back to them?”

“Eventually. We’ve worked together for so many years. I spent more time with them than I’ve actually ever spent alone, and I think I just need…”

“Something new,” the bartender finished, “I’m starting to catch on. What d’you think you’ll do?”

“I’ve always loved teaching. Maybe that?”

“You know, I have some friends who work at UC. Depending on what you wanted to teach, I could see if they could get you an interview.”

“Just like that?” Spencer asked, wondering only briefly if there was going to be a catch somewhere down the line.

The bartender shrugged. “Why not? I never up and moved cities, but I’m no stranger to new beginnings.”

“I wouldn’t recommend moving cities without thinking it through,” Spencer laughed then. “I have no plan for what comes next.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay, at least?”

Spencer only winced, which he was sure was answer enough for them. He was expecting some kind of sympathetic response, but he never expected the bartender to shrug again and say, “Well, how about I be a little impulsive too. I’ve been looking for a new roommate, why don’t you stay tonight and see how it goes?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. You seem decent enough not to be some secret axe-murderer or something.”

Oh, the irony.

Spencer didn’t really know this person except for the limited conversation they’d had so far. It would’ve been safer, and probably smarter, for him to just find a hotel room for the night and come up with a plan later. But something was telling him that he should agree, that there was something more to this person that he wanted to get to know.

So not for the first time that day, Spencer trusted his gut and nodded. “Okay, let’s try it.”

It wasn’t a fix for everything. The changes would come slowly, so slowly that sometimes Spencer himself wouldn’t even notice them happening. It would take time to get to a place where Spencer felt okay again, and a large help in that ended up being his new roommate who seemed to just get him in more ways than one. As time went by, Cincinnati truly began to feel like home.

And two years after he’d left, when Spencer turned on the news and saw the BAU standing before a large crowd as they announced they’d finally caught the serial killer behind the shipping container murders, he finally felt the string tugging him back in the direction of Quantico.

His home was there in Cincinnati, with the person who’d become a friend and even more in the last two years and the professor job that he came to love, but Spencer knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that it was time to see his family again, too.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst

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thaliathewriter · 1 year

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Air is Overrated

this was basically inspired by me cause I’m very sick and have been in bed for the past 3 days

summary: you’re sick but your favorite blue boy is there to take care of you

pairings: Neteyam X fem omaticaya! Reader

warnings: fluff, kind of a make out at the end

I was currently locked up in my tent because I was sick. ‘ughhhh this sucks’ I thought, I felt like complete shit. I wanted to go back outside so badly to run around in the forest, go swimming with my friends, and maybe see a certain someone.

You honestly couldn’t wait for this cold to go away, neither could Neteyam. Oh Ewya that boy missed you so much. He visited everyday, but it wasn’t enough for him. You reminded him everytime he visited not to get too close because you’d rather die than give your blue boy a cold.

Every time he’d reach out to touch you, you’d flinch away from him telling him you’ refused to get him sick, even though he’d whine and protest everytime, he still listened to you, he always did.

He missed your warmth, your soft skin on him, the feeling of your lips on his, god he was so ready for the cold to go away. When Mo’at told him you were sick, that poor guy almost had a heart attack, he dropped everything he was doing, dropped his duties for that day, ignoring everyone’s complaints and stares as he bumped into them trying to get to your tent.

He ripped open the flap to your tent to see you lying on your bed, with a small cloth on your forehead. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the sight of you brought his anxiety down a little, but he was still worried about your health.

He rushed forward toward you “Baby” he caught your attention. You saw him and smiled and tried to get up to greet him but the pounding ache in your head caused you to immediately lay back down. He frowned “It's okay Princess don’t get up, I just wanted to see how my favorite girl was doing” he said in the softest voice while brushing back your hair.

He took the cloth off your forehead and felt for your temperature. His frown deepened when he felt how hot you were, he placed the cloth in the water in the bowl that wasn’t far from you, and quickly put it back on your forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you, Love?” He asked you while holding one of your hands. “Anything, anything at all, name it and it’s yours” he told you while kissing your knuckles.

With the hand he was kissing you started to caress his cheek, he leaned into your hand making you smile “You being here is enough, Nete”. He smiled and leaned down to you, he was surprised when he felt a flick on his forehead “Oi don’t get too close, are you crazy, you wanna get sick too?” You lightly scolded him. He laughed, of course even when you were sick you worried for him.

He spent the rest of the day with you, tending to your needs, giving you medicine Mo’at had prescribed you, just talking to you, it was actually refreshing to just sit and talk with you, he missed you so much prior to this. When night time came he literally refused to leave your side.

When Lo’ak was sent looking for him, for bedtime, he knew exactly where Neteyam would be, in your tent. Lo’ak opened up the flap of your tent to see you in bed sleeping while Neteyam was holding your hand, smoothing out your baby hairs, sitting next to your sleeping figure.

Lo’ak walked in quietly knowing Neteyam would have his head if he woke you up, “Bro '' he whispered quietly to Neteyam. Neteyam looked toward his brother and raised his finger to his mouth telling him to be quiet and pointed outside, Lo’ak got the hint and started to walk back out. Neteyam got up slowly making sure not to wake you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, before exiting your tent.

Once the 2 brothers were outside of your tent Neteyam’s soft aura was gone, replaced with an annoyed one, annoyed that he had to leave you. “What do you want?” Neteyam asked harshly, Lo’ak rolled his eyes ``Uh it's almost past curfew goody two shoes, you need to come home”. “No.” Neteyam answered back.

Lo’ak looked at his brother shocked, Neteyam never broke the rules, especially rules set by his parents, it’s like the roles were reversed tonight instead of Neteyam scolding Lo’ak for breaking the rules, tonight it was Lo’ak reminding Neteyam about the rules.

“What do you mean, No?” Lo’ak asked louder than he intended, Neteyam hissed under his breath dragging his brother further away from your tent “Can you talk softer? You’re gonna wake her up.” he said while looking in your tent to check on you, you were still sleeping, he smiled slightly, but it faltered when he saw you stir in your sleep.

Neteyam looks back at his brother, Lo’ak looking back expectantly, like he wanted an explanation. Neteyam sighs “Look bro she’s sick, no one’s gonna be here to keep an eye on her, you know how it is.”

Lo’ak knew. He knew how you didn’t have parents. He knew how much Neteyam loved you, how protective he was over you, for Ewya’s sake his parents practically raised you. Lo’ak knew his parents would understand Neteyam’s reasonings for not coming home that night. Lo’ak looked into your tent at your sleeping figure, now he was worrying for your health, you were one of his closest friends to, someone who actually listened and understood him.

Lo’ak sighed while placing a hand on his brothers shoulder “take care of her bro, mom and dad will skin you if you don’t, goodnight” Neteyam smiled at his words and pulled his brother into a small side hug while ruffling his head “night bro”. Neteyam wasted no time getting back to you, resuming his position from before.

You stirred in your sleep and you woke up sensing another presence next to you. Eyes fluttering open you were met with two pairs of eyes that you were far too familiar with. Neteyam caressed your cheek with one and held one of your hands with the other. “Hey baby, it’s just me princess, your favorite blue boy” he softly reassured you. You chuckled at his words, he hated that nickname.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead “Go back to sleep baby, I’ll be here, I’ll take care of you, I’ll always take care of you.” he smiles as you drift back to sleep, you always felt safe in his presence.

The next few days went by exactly like that, Neteyam tending to your needs, taking care of you, his baby. Even the rest of the Sullys came by, Jake calling Norm to run some tests on you, your head on Neytiri lap while she sang to you just like when you were younger, Lo’ak talking your ears off and furthering your headaches, Neteyam telling him to shut up, Kiri bringing you flowers cause she knows how much you miss exploring with her, and Tuk braiding your hair and laying in your lap.

Sooner or later you were as good as new and ready to get out of this damn tent. And that’s exactly what you did. You were running in the forest taking in the beauty of it, thanking Ewya for everything she gave to your people, to you. You looked back to see Neteyam chasing after you. You chuckled “keep up blue boy” you yelled back at him.

He smiled at his girl, he missed this, he missed when it was just you, him and the forest, surrounded by Ewya’s beauty. He eventually caught up to you and caught you by the waist. You were laughing like crazy, he knew you missed this too.

He turned you around to face him, his smile widened at the sound of your joyful laughter. “What? Is there something on my face?” you asked, noticing him staring at you. He chuckled and pulled you closer, starting to attack your face with a bunch of kisses. You giggled at his actions and laced your arms around his neck.

You yelped when he unexpectedly picked you up off the ground, his hands under your thighs, guiding your legs to go around his hips. You smiled when he looked up at you “hi blue boy” you teased and kissed his nose “hi sweet girl” he pulled your face towards him, meeting your lips in a soft kiss that soon turned sloppy.

You had no idea how long you’d been kissing, but then your lungs started to burn and you needed air, you reluctantly pulled away from him, but he was following your lips. You smiled and pulled away, while breathing hard “needed air” he scoffed playfully “air is overrated”

#avatar #avatar way of water #fluff #avatar 2 #neteyam sully #jake sully #neytiri sully #kiri sully #tuktirey sully #lo’ak sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine

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homunculus-argument · 7 months

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hi! sorry if this is weird, but im a latinx immigrant who'll be moving to finland next week. i have an adhd diagnosis and read its really though to get treatment for adhd in finland, so i thought of maybe reaching out. i hope that's ok! would you be able to recommend me any doctors that may be more helpful? we can do it on pm if you like :-) thanks!

I naturally have no experience of migrating to Finland, but if you've already been diagnosed, and have been prescribed medication for it before, it should be reasonably easy to get your meds here. The part that's been made unfathomably difficult is getting the diagnosis in the first place, but I've never been denied medications in a pharmacy or anything like that, save for medication shortages or when I've neglected to get medical check-ups first.

It's pretty much exactly like getting trans health care in Finland - if you can get yourself an official diagnosis and convince them that you need treatment, that's now your official diagnosis and nobody is going to question the fact that you need treatment. Doctors or pharmacies don't argue it. The hard part is convincing them that you need diagnosis in the first place.

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isawken · 1 year

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disco elysium and transmasculinity:

i don't want to be this kind of animal anymore

there is no such thing as an inherently masculine trait, only those which we have culturally prescribed to be masculine. muscular, tall, strong, stoic. self-destructive. repressive. angry. unhinged. violent. addictive.

Disco Elysium markets itself with the tagline “what kind of cop are you?”. to put it bluntly: you get to choose what man you want to be. the actual gameplay mechanic is the game keeps track of your dialogue choices and, among other RPG things, neatly divvies them up into 4 main Cop Categories: Sorry Cop, Apocalypse Cop, Superstar Cop, Boring Cop. after some time establishing your identity you can branch off into 3 other copotypes: honor cop, art cop, and hobocop. These are all exactly what you think they would be.

a supremacist stands tall, immovable, shirtless, tattooed, in the way of one of your objectives, and if you let him he will tell you all the ways your body betrays your degeneracy. all the indulgences you make, with drugs and alcohol and sex, are allegedly clear as day written across your reddened swollen face. you are not a man. you are pathetic. a pair of women reassure his divine masculinity even when he admits his impotence. there’s no denying it: that’s one man of a man right there.

your former detective partner is an eternally scowling pockmark faced asshole. he approaches every interaction with you with a nice solid baseline of aggression. if you choose to put your points into something called “espirit de corps”, you get small vignettes of his previous actions. in one of them, it’s joked that you two are near-marital in your relationship. in some of them, he worries about you. muttering under his breath, mostly to himself, not unkindly. but he certainly never shows that to you face to face.

two old men play pétanque outside every day by the sea. they have done this for years. they have known each other since they were kids. one is a fascist, the other a democratic socialst. if you’re nosy, you can go to the watchman’s post and find a picture of him, his socialist buddy, and a young woman whose attentions they supposedly both vied for. if you decide to become a fascist, the game gives you something more. your abilities Pain Threshold, Composure, Endurance, Volition, Conceptualization, and Inland Empire take turns showing you tiny slices of a truth viciously stamped beneath the heel of his brilliant boot. a love for his dear hated socialist. and when he dies, that socialist tells you the same. but they never told each other. never even came close. because how could you?

harry dubois wakes up face down ass up covered in piss and vomit and full of foggy confusion after drinking himself into amnesia. he's tall, he's got giant arms, a proud beer gut, and he's self-destructed himself into literal oblivion. this pitiful bastard doesn't even remember his own name. the first person he encounters outside of the hotel room in which he fucked himself up beyond his limbic system’s reach tells him at some point during his bingeful weekend she heard him scream, "i dont want to be this kind of animal anymore". you don’t know why you said this. but after a while you have some pretty good guesses.

i could talk forever about the unique circumstances of growing up as a girl in modern western society. but i have nothing interesting to say that hasn't already been said much more eloquently. learning to hate my body, learning to be afraid, learning that you need to want to be consumed. the eternal unpacking of all the issues a patriarchal society burdens you with. it never ends. but i've at least reached a point where i've done my base legwork. i know the oppression i've fought. it is nameable. i have labeled each and every patriarchal burden like a so many papers in a filing cabinet. few are going in the shredder, but at least they're known. next to that filing cabinet, i have a big pile of loose papers slowly sliding off a desk with the word "masculinity" in neon lights flickering above them. i want to dive into those papers. but the thought of it fills me with such apprehension. i've always wanted masculinity. i've purposefully adopted affectations to make myself more stereotypically masculine. most are hilariously shallow, and not exactly innovative. i smoked camels for 8 years. i drink my coffee black. i picked up a nice little alcohol habit. i've shoved down more feelings than i would ever willingly admit in the hopes to appear unbothered. I’ve told myself to “man the fuck up” my fair share of times. none of it got rid of my hips or my tits or my anxiety or my painfully high pitched voice. i’ve quit smoking. i sometimes think i should start again for many reasons, but one is in the hope that my voice will drop. just one octave. at least. it’s silly, i know. believe me. i know.

when harry drags his sorry ass out of that hotel room, he isn't free of his past. he has shadows in his mind reminding him of the things he's forgotten. shadows that still influence his views of masculinity. there is no way to truly escape the bitter leaden paint stuck to the inside of your mind so violently applied by our beloved patriarchal society. there is a hilarious dialogue option where, if you so choose, you can proclaim that you would never let anyone androgynous touch your hair. because the “others” (unnamed) would laugh at you. here we have a man who cant remember his own name, but he is certain that he absolutely cannot under any circumstances have a non-manly haircut for fear of mockery and rejection by his peers. how many coats of that leadened paint must have adhered to his poor, poor limbic system that even when he’s forgotten the concept of money, he still knows about the boundaries of masculinity.

as harry tries to be a good person (or a fascist or a doom prophet or a disco superstar) he cannot really shake the pieces of himself that make him him. and he meets another bastion of masculinity, kim kitsuragi immeasurably measured, willful, and kind (for a cop), he helps you rediscover the world around you as you try to rewrite your tabula rasa'd self. he is firm, but nice. he lets you make your choices and mistakes. and he only stops supporting you when you start fucking up like, literally everything, and indulging in racism. naturally, there is a lot of fanart of them kissing, and yearning. both are beacons of masculinity, different sides of the same coin. where harry is physically imposing, kim is slight. where kim is calm cool and collected, harry will break down crying after a brief conversation with his necktie. but both are undeniably masculine. i mean, they’re cops after all. what more masculine profession is there?

as kind as kim is to you in your lowest possible state, it can be easy to overlook the ways in which he is not kind. when you tell him you think you really, seriously, need to go to the hospital, seriously kim i can't even remember my name i think i could have brain damage, kim responds with the equivalent of "walk it off" by encouraging you to start working on the case and see if that makes you feel better instead. it is in this light that you recognize which affectations of his are conscious posturing. his fitted jacket and trousers, matching the uniforms worn by air brigades in a past war. his careful collection of tools he keeps in his beloved kineema. his vast knowledge and care for the car itself. looked at in a certain different light- you know the one- you could see these traits being the result of a very careful construction. he found pieces of overt masculinity and decided to subsume them as a defense. a bolstering, a reinforcement of chosen masculinity.

there are so many different flavors of masculinity that the game offers you to experience and explore yourself. you decide whether to value them. you can follow in mister phenology’s footsteps and try to build yourself into a supremacist ideal. maybe that will make you happy. you can also chase after a barely-coded homosexual man, who makes you stutter in most available dialogue options. even if that may make you happy, you don’t get to pursue it. you can think for 20 hours about the "homosexual underground", but you can't join it yourself. you can however join fascism. interesting how harry is more susceptible to fascism than homosexuality. interesting to prod and poke at his masculine limits.

“what kind of cop are you” is a loaded question. harry is rebuilding himself from the ground up as a man. and how funny is it to learn that is inextricable from his profession.

what do you find inextricable from your gender? what of those traits make you happy? what of those traits make you want to throw your fucking shoe through a god damn window and punch the bathroom mirror and scream and scream and scream and scream?

i want to emerge from a hotel room, at my lowest point, and have the power to rebuild myself from scratch. i want a cool man who i maybe want to kiss guide me with a gentle yet firm hand. i want to have large arms, and a proud beer gut, and a stupid beard, and i want to destroy a hotel room and drink myself into a beautifully tragic state. i want to have non-political body hair. i want to get stared at for my gaudy tie and green snakeskin shoes instead of my tits. i want become a different kind of animal.

#this is very long and rambly and filled with half-finished thoughts #i will maybe one day come back to it and finish those thoughts #but i just wanted to put this out there. slide into my inbox if you also have transmasc feelings about disco elysium. i want to hear you #disco elysium #transmasc #transmasculinity #transgender

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