GIGI. ── 8teen, house martell, she / her, afro-latina.
🗡️ ; asoiaf & dc based. but requests are open to anything .ᐟ
carrd. 𓂃⋆.˚ masterlist. 𓂃⋆.˚ ao3. 𓂃⋆.˚ tiktok.
tumblr dot com
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

Kiana Khansmith
Not today Justin
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
noise dept.
Sade Olutola

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Jules of Nature
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

⁂
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Claire Keane
Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap

titsay
Game of Thrones Daily
sheepfilms
Today's Document
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from Colombia
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Colombia
seen from Ukraine

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from Bangladesh
@vvesteros
GIGI. ── 8teen, house martell, she / her, afro-latina.
🗡️ ; asoiaf & dc based. but requests are open to anything .ᐟ
carrd. 𓂃⋆.˚ masterlist. 𓂃⋆.˚ ao3. 𓂃⋆.˚ tiktok.
maybe i'm just overly horny
GIVE me that NEOWWWW
Timothy Olyphant as Cobb Vanth in The Mandalorian | Chapter 9 | The Marshal
ive had this saved this 2020 damn
i was thinking of cobb vanth last night and fuckkkk i forgot how daddy he was
✶ — TOO LATE !
summary: when you and langdon get stuck on the roof of the trauma center together, he decides to stir up the ghost of your relationship to pass the time. but you've long moved on, and frank's left haunting the wrong house. (5k)
pairing: frank langdon / ex!fem!reader, jack abbot / wife!reader
contents: enemies to lovers to friends, established past relationship w/ langdon, established relationship w/ jack, unrequited love, unresolved feelings, angst cw for brief mentions of death (r loses a patient), mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of past toxic relationships
ᯓ☆ part one | part two coming soon!
★。\|/。★
it's starting to hurt, and i know you moved on . . .
★。/|\。★
“Why do you think we never worked out?”
That’s the first thing Langdon thinks to ask, after a half hour or more trapped on the roof of the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center with you. He’s only up there because you disappeared, to be fair, though it’s not like you were exactly begging anyone to come check on you. You just needed a moment alone — a moment to clear your head, and to breathe through the nagging thoughts of grief that threatened to strangle you.
A patient had died on your table. Sarah Michaels, seven years old, with a nine-millimeter GSW to the neck after getting a hold of her father’s gun. She was not the first patient you’ve lost, nor the first child you’ve seen flat-line, but you feel particularly heavy in your mourning for a reason you can’t quite name. You’re haunted by the tiny ghost of her, doomed to a lifetime of remembering that you could not save her.
You left to get some air a while ago, after Robby had tried to corner you to give you the whole spiel you’re already used to — about how he once lost a young patient too, the same you had today, and that you’ll eventually learn to grow around the grief instead of letting it take root inside you.
Langdon watched you leave with a strange tugging in his chest. He knew that it was never just about getting air with you; he knew that you only went to the roof to talk yourself down from the ledge again, and you hate that he knows that about you.
Almost as much as you hate the question he’s asking you now.
“I mean, I know why,” he adds, gesturing with a pair of strong hands from where his elbows are propped on his bent knees. “I just wanna know if you know why…”
benjamin “dex” leonard poindexter aka bullseye
✶ — TOO LATE !
summary: when you and langdon get stuck on the roof of the trauma center together, he decides to stir up the ghost of your relationship to pass the time. but you've long moved on, and frank's left haunting the wrong house. (5k)
pairing: frank langdon / ex!fem!reader, jack abbot / wife!reader
contents: enemies to lovers to friends, established past relationship w/ langdon, established relationship w/ jack, unrequited love, unresolved feelings, angst cw for brief mentions of death (r loses a patient), mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of past toxic relationships
ᯓ☆ part one | part two coming soon!
★。\|/。★
it's starting to hurt, and i know you moved on . . .
★。/|\。★
“Why do you think we never worked out?”
That’s the first thing Langdon thinks to ask, after a half hour or more trapped on the roof of the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center with you. He’s only up there because you disappeared, to be fair, though it’s not like you were exactly begging anyone to come check on you. You just needed a moment alone — a moment to clear your head, and to breathe through the nagging thoughts of grief that threatened to strangle you.
A patient had died on your table. Sarah Michaels, seven years old, with a nine-millimeter GSW to the neck after getting a hold of her father’s gun. She was not the first patient you’ve lost, nor the first child you’ve seen flat-line, but you feel particularly heavy in your mourning for a reason you can’t quite name. You’re haunted by the tiny ghost of her, doomed to a lifetime of remembering that you could not save her.
You left to get some air a while ago, after Robby had tried to corner you to give you the whole spiel you’re already used to — about how he once lost a young patient too, the same you had today, and that you’ll eventually learn to grow around the grief instead of letting it take root inside you.
Langdon watched you leave with a strange tugging in his chest. He knew that it was never just about getting air with you; he knew that you only went to the roof to talk yourself down from the ledge again, and you hate that he knows that about you.
Almost as much as you hate the question he’s asking you now.
“I mean, I know why,” he adds, gesturing with a pair of strong hands from where his elbows are propped on his bent knees. “I just wanna know if you know why…”
santos saying that langdon could relapse and then picking up a scalpel and putting it in her pocket...the whole "santos and langdon lash out at each other because they see themselves reflected in the other" thing is not even subtext
TEN MONTHS (F. LANGDON)
divorced!langdon x fem!reader
summary. Ten months since you kissed your attending in the on-call room. Ten months of guilt, of telling yourself it meant nothing. Now he’s back, freshly divorced, and apparently you’ve learned absolutely nothing.
word count. 5.1K warnings. smut, 18+, MDNI, inappropriate workplace relationship, power imbalance, public-ish sex (on-call room), unprotected pnv, pussy slapping, lowk mean langdon, possibly ooc langdon (in the series, we don’t see him doing relationship stuff, so who knows), cheating bc reader and langdon kissed when he was still married, reader makes bad choices, Langdon is toxic, reader is toxic, everyone is fucking toxic, no use of y/n. notes. baby’s first long Langdon fic, please be nice to me 😭 took some liberties, made Langdon an attending, bc I genuinely didn’t know he was an R4? (In my defence, there’s only 3 years of residency for Emergency Med in my country) By the time I realised he wasn’t an attending, I’d already finished writing the fic. So please work with me here 😭 thank you @sheriff-bodecker for saving me from a crash out.
READ ON AO3
They said he’d be back in eight months. Then they said it should be nine. Then ten. That was around ten months ago.
Somewhere during that, you’d stopped doing the mental arithmetic which was either personal growth or denial. Probably both. You’d stopped being able to tell the difference around the same time you stopped sleeping well.
“pull it out” , “nah uh”
IM S(CREAMING),id never let him pull out.. FILL ME UP BABYYYY
BREED ME IN TILL IM OVERFLOWING
་༘࿐HOUSE OF BALLOONS. ✶
+ SUMMARY. fbi agents during the day, but vigilantes during the night—you and pointdexter work a case together but unbeknownst to you the two of you show up in the same place at the wrong time.
+ WC. 3k
+ PAIRINGS. benjamin pointdexter x fem!reader.
🎯 — angst, fluff, violence, profanities, very VERY inaccurate fbi stuff, reader is very much catwoman coded, allusions to dex stalking r.
You rub your hands over your face, holding back a yawn as you begin to grow tired. The night is dark, the sky foggy with no moon, only stars illuminating the streets.
You rise from your chair and nearly bump into someone, it’s your coworker, Maxine. Your eyebrows raise as you take a step back. “Sorry.” You say and she shakes her head.
“Here. You’re gonna need this.” You furrow your eyebrows as she hands you a cup of coffee.
“What do you mean?” You ask before you can drink.
“Senator Matthews has just been murdered, in his home.” You recoil, eyes wide as Maxine breaks the news.
“Two weeks before election night?” Maxine hums, your hand covers your mouth as you process this. “Wait, but why do I need this?”
Supervisory Special Agent Bennett approaches you, files in hand and you shut your eyes. He calls you and you look at him. He hands you the file with all the details they have gathered in the moment about the murder as well as personal information about the Senator. “These are the details so far about Senator Matthews’ murder. You will be leading the case alongside Special Agent Pointdexter. You’re needed now at the scene. Go.”
“What—“ You look between him and Maxine, who raises a brow. The two Special Agents leave, leaving you standing alone with the files in hand and a coffee that grows cold in the other.
You curse under your breath and head your way to Special Agent Pointdexter. He has his back to you, but you tap his shoulder and he turns.
You realize, you had never spoken to him, which was extremely weird. But, here you are. You introduce yourself, extending a hand.
“We were just assigned to lead the Senator Matthews case together? I’m sure you know all the details.” You hand him the file and he nods. He looks between the files and you, and smiles softly.
“I do. Do we head out?” He asks and you nod. “Do you want me to drive or…”
“No, I got it. Don’t worry.” You smile and so does he. You head to the parking lot and begin to head to the scene.
“Surprisingly, I’ve never met you, never talked with you…” You ignite a conversation, looking at the road whilst he continues to look at you. “Because I saw you when you first arrived, you moved precincts, correct?”
“Yes. I used to live in Colorado and I’m here now.” He lies, just to make conversation as well.
“Interesting. I was born and raised here. How is Colorado? I’ve seen pictures of the mountains, forests, and stuff but I’ve never gone. Which, I should because I would like to try a new hobby, hiking.” You share and he nods as you continue to speak.
“Uh, yeah, it’s pretty chilly sometimes. Beautiful landscapes. But, you kind of just get used to it since you live there for a long time.” Pointdexter says and you hum.
“Were you born and raised there as well?” You ask, looking at him as you come to a stoplight.
“Yes.” He says and looks at you. The bright red light shines over your faces as you begin to look into each other.
You rest your head in the headrest and blink. “We should do a work trip to Colorado with some coworkers. You can be our guide.” You sing-song. And he chuckles.
“Anytime.” You smile and place your eyes on the road again.
“If I’m talking too much… just tell me to shut up, and I will.”
“If anything I don’t think you’re talking enough.” He says, your face turns to him so quickly he gets scared. You smile and shake your head.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Pointdexter.” You laugh.
“Please. Call me Ben. Or Dexter.” You furrow your eyebrows and begin to pull into the driveway of the Senator’s home.
“Okay… Dex?” You shrug.
“That’s what everybody calls me.” He says and you purse your lips.
“Am I not in that everybody?” You question.
“You’re somebody.” You squint your eyes, you think he means something deeper than what common sense is saying, but you just shrug it off.
“Okay, Ben.” You said before getting out of the van. “Let’s get to work.” He nods and you enter the crime scene.
You and Ben stay working until the sun rises, cleaning up the scene, removing the body, and analyzing every inch of the damn living room. “This is so weird. I wonder who could do this. Everybody knows this city is messed up, but, he wasn’t corrupt or anything…?” You watch as they take the lifeless body on a stretcher.
“Well. We’re the ones supposed to find out.” Ben says and you nod.
“That we are.” You glance at Ben and shoot him a soft smile.
12:17 am. Night fell once again. Dark, humidity growing as it continues to pour outside. But either way, you wrap your mask around your face, zip up your body suit, and find your way to the garage.
You open the garage door as you softly place your helmet on. The engine of your motorcycle floods your garage in an instant, the revs echoing as you cross under a bridge.
And here you are. Back where you were the entirety of last night and this morning. Breaking into the Senator’s house using your silent and ‘cat burglar-esque’ ways. You use a small flashlight to help you look through the darkness that swallowed this house whole. Apart from the separate strikes of lightning that help for about half a second.
You gasp when you find the safe. Quickly take out your tools to unlock the titanium safe. You twist and turn, a few clicks here and there when finally you hear a soft thud and you smile.
Lightning strikes as soon as you open the safe completely. The diamond necklace was twinkling at the strike. You hum in awe of the jewels, along with cigars and money. Few times have you ever been struck by anything other than jewelry, when does that happen? When you see weapons such as swords, sais, or, in this case, a custom .9mm.
You grab it and run your gloved fingers over the marble-like pattern with gold accents that decorate the weapon. You place it aside and grab a handful of jewelry. You wonder if most of this is either from his widow or his mother. His widow comes from an extremely wealthy family, so, it’d be expected, but his mother also passed, so he could keep these in memoriam. But. Who cares? He’s dead.
Lightning strikes again, this time—you feel uneasy, someone is here. “Cat burglar like you should be careful wearing those things.” A voice appears behind you, you quickly grab the gun but the vigilante throws a blade before you could even wrap your finger around the trigger, the blade slashes your wrist, drawing blood and urging you to drop the gun.
He approaches you but you rise and kick him away. Some of your punches fail as he dodges them, but those you land are received by his torso. You force his head into your knee and you draw blood from his nose.
You take off as he holds his nose and he remains distracted. But as you approach the door, an object ricochets off one of the walls and strikes you in your cheekbone, the force so strong you tumble but manage to hold yourself up against the wall. “Fuck…” A force pulls you from the floor, gripping your arms tightly. You look into their eyes, rough and dark with malicious intent as they push you back against a wall making you groan.
You support yourself with his strong arms and kick him with both legs, full force. His grip on you loosens until he fully lets go of you. You kick his face and knock him unconscious.
“Pathetic.” You stand next to him, and you get the urge to remove his mask, curiosity is getting the best of you… Maybe it’s someone you know, but what if it isn’t? It could be worthless. Maybe that's what he wants, he's pretending to be unconscious so you could see and then he’ll “wake up” and grab you. You go with the second option, you don’t look under the mask, and instead leave.
“So we should have him in for questioning later.” One of the special agents working on the same case as you informs you of what they have gathered since last night. They have the main suspect, so, that’s good.
Pointdexter stood beside you, his hands on his pockets, composed and calm, but you could feel his gaze burning onto you, and quite frankly you did not know how to feel.
You use your peripheral vision and indeed, he’s shooting daggers. You blink awkwardly and swallow, after your special agent finishes you head to your work station, but you hear footsteps behind you and so you turn.
“Special agent Pointdexter?” He tilts his head sideways, eyebrows scrunched slightly. “Ben…”
“You scared me there. I thought we went back to serious professionals.” He smiles and you press your lips together.
“Are we not?” Ben’s smile fades and he begins to apologize, his hands fidgety.
“I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You smile and shake your head.
“It’s okay, Ben. I understood what you meant, and, no…forgive me, I’ve had a long night. I couldn’t even sleep last night.”
“Was your sleepless night a product of that?” He questions, his eyes pointing down at your slit wrist. You look down and pull your sleeve down.
“Oh, yeah, my wine broke as I was taking it out of the freezer, cut me.” You chuckle nervously as you look back at him.
“Pretty deep cut.” He says.
“Yeah… damn bastard.” Ben hums, eye contact is strong between you. The tension that rises is awkward, it’s like he knows you’re lying and you can’t help but feel weird. Not in a bad way, not that he is making you feel like this, just… the interaction.
Before you were to break the silence, he steps in. “Look, I know this isn’t professional, and I know we only met formally yesterday, but, I do wish we could get to know each other more, and, I don’t really know when we’ll be able to work a case together again so… yeah.” You squint your eyes and nod, feeling the heat rush to your neck and ears.
You hum. “Are you asking me out?” You cross your arms and look up at him as he laughs awkwardly.
“I guess I am.” He sighs. “How about the new Italian place that opened up? I forgot the name.”
“Pirella’s?” You question and he nods. “That’s nice, buuuuut, I don’t really want Italian, how about you come to my house? I can cook something?”
“How about we cook something.” Your eyes light up when he hints at the fact that he can cook and you smile.
“That sounds great, I’ll send you my address, yeah?” He nods.
“I’ll be seeing you tonight.” Ben smiles.
“I’m counting on it.” He leaves and you lick your lips and when you sit in your desk chair you gasp softly and begin to giggle.
Is inviting a man, more specifically your male co-worker to your house as a first date a red flag? Maybe? Possibly? Yes? Okay maybe yes, but, it’s not like you can’t defend yourself… if anything, he might fight, but he isn’t bulletproof so, you’re fine.
You and Ben cook some steaks alongside potatoes and vegetables and so far it has gone very well, you’re drinking some wine in the process and Marvin Gaye plays on your record player.
You grow surprised when you catch Ben mouthing the lyrics to Distant Lover, although a famous song, you didn’t think someone like him would know the entire song.
When you catch him in the act, he smiles and so do you. Ben wraps his arm around you and you embrace him entirely as you begin to sway off to the soft beat of the song.
You’re confused, and you begin to feel weird again. You’ve known this guy officially for two days now and you’re already like this? As if you’ve known him your entire life and you don’t know if it’s looking good or bad. Hopefully good, you think Ben is a good guy, he’s nice, and you learnt he’s adventurous, and he’s also really attractive, he takes care of himself and his appearance, as well as his health.
Ben caresses your hair gently as you continue to move around slowly, you take in a deep breath and shut your eyes. Ben looks down and whispers your name. You look up, chin resting on his chest. “Are you okay?” He holds your arms tightly, but, in a comforting way.
You step back awkwardly and nod. “Yeah…” you blink back and swallow.
“Okay, dinner’s ready.” He caresses your cheek within a second, and you think it’s some sort of glitch in the matrix, or your hungry brain playing mind tricks on you, but, you smile and try to believe it actually did happen.
You stand beside Ben so you can serve yourself but he tells you to sit, that he’ll serve you himself, you smile to yourself and head to the table.
Ben places your plate in front of you and then he sits down. You begin to eat and quickly compliment each other once your taste buds ignite at the juicy steak and flavorful potatoes.
“I think we should quit the FBI and become professional cooks.” You say, cutting a piece of steak.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Ben says while he takes a sip from his wine, still admiring you and your beautiful features.
“I love cooking. I also love baking as well. I find peace in it, especially when I play music as well, and more importantly when it’s Marvin Gaye.” You begin to speak and you hear Ben chuckle.
“I agree. It’s very calming.” You smile.
After you finish your meals, you put your plates aside but remain at the table and continue to talk together. But when silence grows, Ben breaks it in the worst way possible. His tone becomes more strict now as he calls your name. “Are you going to tell me how you actually got that cut?” He asks, low now. Your eyes look up at him and you swallow.
“I told you, Ben. My wine bottle broke.” You shake your head and he sighs. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re lying to me.” He says.
“I’m not… I wouldn’t.”
“Then I guess you wouldn’t lie to me about how you’re her… the cat burglar running around?”
“What—“ you laugh sarcastically. “I don’t—“ you shake your head repeatedly.
“You’re her. I saw you. Last night.” Your eyes widen slightly, heart beginning to race. And you begin to hope you won’t use the gun strapped beneath the table. “I know. And it’s okay, it’s our little—“
“You’re him.” You say that when you come to realization, Ben’s face softens. “You’re Bullseye.” Your voice breaks as your eyes begin to darken with sadness. “You gave me this…” You cover your cut and Ben begins to stammer.
“I’m— okay, listen, I—“ Ben begins to protest but you shake your head.
“Get out of my house, Ben.” You look away from him as tears sting your eyes. You rise from your chair.
“No, hey, come on…” He stands as well.
“Get out!” You look at him when he reaches for you but you flinch back.
“No, please, try to understand, we’re the same!” You mutter under your breath as he continues to justify himself. “We’re both vigilantes, we—“
“No, no, believe me, Ben there is quite a difference between stealing jewels and killing people!” You throw him his jacket, wiping a tear that falls from your red eyes. “Now get. out. Ben, please…” You push him, but he holds your forearm carefully, softly.
“Please, I’m sorry. I—I’ll stop.” Ben steps closer while holding your forearm, because you don’t fight for him to let go. “Please, please, listen to me, I’ll stop for you.” Your lips quiver and you hide your face.
“You kill people, Ben… I can’t trust you.” You cry quietly, and he holds your arm to his head now as he falls to his knees.
“Please, please, listen to me. I would never hurt you, I— I won’t harm anyone ever again, just…please, I can’t— I need— I’m sorry.” He doesn’t even dare to touch you, he’s scared to touch you, he holds onto your arm but even then he feels like he’s going to be banished to hell.
When you look down and hear his soft pleas, as well as how he holds your arm you begin to calm down, tears still fall, but your heart isn’t racing anymore, neither are you shaking, it’s like you transferred all your emotions to Ben now, and you wish you could take them away.
You kneel now in front of him and cup his face. You blink as you wipe a single tear from his face, even now he still fears laying a single finger on you, he doesn’t understand how you’re feeling right now, and he doesn’t want to make it worse.
You don’t hug him. Instead, you place your forehead against his, eyes shutting as you take a deep breath together, your eyes now resting on his knee as he brings a careful hand to rest atop your head.
BABY-SHARK ─── jack abbot
summary: it's well known across the ptmc that park the shark doesn't like anyone, except for a younger resident he calls 'crybaby,' who also happens to be jack abbot's secret girlfriend. (4k)
characters: jack abbot / sunshine!fem!reader, mentor!brendon park, whitaker & evil whitaker
contents: secret relationship, jealousy, age gap, humor, insecure!jack, not proofread cw for medical inaccuracies, allusions to smut 18+ (MDNI), and r getting turned out that jack takes viagra
( NAVIGATION ) | ( MASTERLIST ) | ( AO3 )
Crybaby.
Dr. Park was the first to call you by that name — or Park the Shark, they called him, on account of his strong features, and the fact that he looked like he could swallow you whole without blinking.
It was your first rotation at the PTMC, when you screwed up a simple tibia plate fixation. The reduction looked clean, in your defense, straight and stable. “You got it?” the attending had asked. And you’d nodded as you adjusted your grip on the patient’s broken leg — only slightly.
The imaging still looked clear from your angle, as the drill went into the bone. But then you looked down, realizing you had forgotten to account for rotation, and found the patient’s foot slightly turned. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and then to your ass at the look Dr. Park gave you when his screw went in off-axis.
“Everyone take a good look!” he’d announced to the crowd of interns and med students watching after the fact. “If anyone here was wondering how to invent a new way to misalign a fracture, congratulations— You just got a live demonstration.”
Your eyes stung with tears, until your attempt to blink them back had failed.
I want to be sandwiched between Benjamin Poindexter and Buck Cashman
That's it, that's the post
i found my twin guys omg!!!!
I physically cannot choose between these two hunks it hurts.
Its like two bfs that fight over me!!!
Yumeshipping literally the only thing keeping me sane rn…
@howtodisappear444 us lmfao (two man)