#I DIDNT PROOFREAD THIS

[cleake]

heyy i love your blog the fics are so cute!!! i wanted to kindly ask you if you could do a fic with neville? i love the way you portray him in your stories. usually others just write him off as sme shy weak boy but you portray him in such a special way, like yes he is shy but theres more to him than just loving plants and being inroverted, and i respect you so much for it. i was wonderng if you could do a big headcanon or fic centering around neville having a crush on the reader or him being the reader's boyfriend? i just miss him sm :(

Hello, dear. Your words made me feel very happy and appreciated, thank you very much. I would love to write more about Neville, he’s a very interesting character. So I’m back from the dead and my multiple months break from writing to give you some of this sweet boy. Thank you again, you’re wonderful <3

Warning: English is not my first language, please excuse any mistakes

Neville Longbottom having a crush on you

-Neville felt like an outcast. He felt that he didn’t fit in with how he was, how he looked, how he behaved, or what he was interested in. He had bad experiences with trying to make friends, let alone trying to find someone that would be special to him. He was rejected, laughed at, and ignored by his peers and he stopped trying to talk to others. He still wanted to have friends, people to like him and respect him but he just feels that won’t happen, that he was a lost cause. So he went on through the years in Hogwarts being only a background character, nothing important.

-Then you showed up. And it was amazing for him. You were amazing.

-When Neville noticed you and you noticed him it felt like something finally clicked, that something finally happened in his life, that he wasn’t alone anymore. He felt like a person, someone with will and importance. You made yourself memorable to him by just being a good person, by being a friend and someone who didn’t see him as a joke. He was overjoyed. He felt like he had something that could make people like him. You made him feel like he was nice, like he was good and worth everything wonderful. He finally had a friend.

-But after some time of you being friends, of you two talking about your interests without any judgment, you making gifts to each other, you making efforts for each other, spending your time together, Neville had a realization to make. He loved you, he liked you and he wanted to be the reason you keep on smiling. He was terrified at the beginning. He was scared and felt so alone with that thought and feeling of loving you. This changed how he saw your relationship and he felt like that was a bad thing. He started to see you in a different light and it made him feel guilty. He started to notice the way you smiled, the way you looked at him, the way you laughed, the way your hair fell around your face, the way you stood, the way your hands touched things, the way your eyes looked so peaceful when you read or looked at something important. Like him. It was such a wonderful thing to witness your beauty in the simplest things, he loved it. But it made him feel so bad for thinking that way, you’re friends. You’re friends. Nothing more. And maybe he had to accept that fact, maybe he shouldn’t look at you in that way. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe he didn’t deserve to do that.

-Neville was so conflicted with his feelings and thoughts toward you, his days were filled with admiring you quietly, punishing himself for doing that, and then feeling alone and powerless. His mind was focused on you, he was thinking about you. And it wasn’t only the administration, he thought about you and how you’d react to him having those feelings about you, he thought about how he was disrespectful for doing such things. He was sure you’d be angry, upset, sad, embarrassed, disgusted, disappointed if you found out. He was so scared. But he loved you so much. He couldn’t help but smile when he thought of you, when you were near when you complimented him, praised him, noticed him. He loved you. And there was no way in denying it.

-He felt so much love and appreciation for you, he just wanted to cherish you forever, treat you like a god, worship you. He knew he was a bit dramatic in his feelings but he loved you so much he couldn’t help it. He saw you as something pure, wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous, and enchanting, he had to feel this way. He had to give you all the stars in the sky, all the pearls in the ocean, all the sunsets and sunrises. He knew you deserved it. But he didn’t know if he deserved you. And it made him feel miserable in his loving you. He didn’t know what to do.

-But then you showed something that was close to showing romantic feelings toward him as well and Neville got so excited and so happy, but at the same time so scared and nervous. He wanted to tell you how he loved you, he wanted to scream it, he wanted it to pour out of him so you could see it, he wanted to give you his heart. He wanted to say it and it ached him to death. He wanted to let you know. He was so enchanted by the thought of telling you that he got brave enough to tell you, not even thinking if you agreed or not, if you thought of him as weird and embarrassing. He got to tell you.

-One day he run up to you, his eyes wide, his lips parted, his breath coming out heavily from the emotion and adrenaline. He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking at you with a glimpse of something in his eyes that you just caught from time to time. Now it was directed at you and it was visible, he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. He had to take a moment before he could speak. He didn’t care if anyone was close to seeing, he didn’t care if people were laughing at his emotions, he was here with you and that only made him feel safe. After a moment of him trying to find his words, opening and closing his mouth in hesitation and fear of saying something wrong he finally choked it out.

“I love you.”

It was quiet, shaky, and uncertain but it was said. He said it to you and he was worried. How will you respond? Will you be disgusted like he always imagined? He just realized what he had done to your friendship and that it won’t be the same after this. All that could save this moment was your response. And he was desperate for it.

-He loved you and he loved that you loved him. And it made him the happiest and the most grateful he ever was. He was ready to give you himself and his heart and you wanted it. That was the most beautiful thing to him. He was always overjoyed with you and you were a miracle to him that he’d protect and love to the end of his existence. He was ready to feel loved and appreciated, to be someone’s “one and only”, to be their heart and soul. And he always wanted it to be you.

[hugs4wriothesley]

Random headcanon I thought of at 12:30am at night while trying to sleep

So Wanderer/Scaramouche was never the type to be very affectionate or vulnerable. Of course he still would occasionally express how much he loved you and valued you in his life, but things like that were rare considering how un-expressive he was when it came to so called “Lovey-dovey” feelings.

Now, most nights you and Scaramouche shared a bed. However whenever you would initiate cuddles, you would most likely get turned down. He preferred to sleep facing away from you. Seems kind of cold doesn’t it?

However, sometime during the middle of the night he would subconsciously turn to you and wrap one of his arms around in in a somewhat cuddling way and whisper in his sleep how you’re warm and how he feels comfortable being by your side. He is in these moments probably one of the most vulnerable.

If you were to turn around to face him, you would see a look of calmness and contentment on his face. He’s truly grateful for your presence even if he doesn’t acknowledge this much when he’s awake. Rub his hand and he might start saying other sweet things to you that express his gratitude.

Bring this up to him in the morning however and he will be in complete denial that he would ever do such a thing… despite the small pink blush on his cheeks telling a different story.

[tgirlpuppycity]

going to someone's place for dinner and a movie and they unexpectedly treat you like a dog the whole time. calling you a good puppy and petting you, cooing and giggling. you feel humiliated that this is all they think of you, and you keep looking away or covering your face all while mumbling weak retaliations every time they say something to you. your tail has already given away that you love what they are doing, although you didn't realize until they pointed it out while giggling.

you hide your face but they move your hands away. they smile and ask you to bark for them. you're already whining and whimpering, so you let out a small bark. they give you endless praises while you feel yourself sinking into puppyspace as you bark some more for them. the night continues as you both watch a movie as you lay your head in their lap while they pet you.

[cyanide-capsules]

Alex Keller was a very open man, or at least that's how he came off.

He was friendly, wide-eyed, the kind of guy you feel like you've known all your life. He seemed to naturally click with everyone he spoke with, including the 141.

Simon Riley was the opposite of him, he was a skeptic. Closed off, suspicious of those he didn't know. This was no different with Alex than anyone else, but there was something about the bright eyed American that made Simon's brain tick.

He didn't know exactly why he felt more on edge around Alex than other new people he met, and he wouldn't understand why until he overheard a conversation between Alex and Gaz.

"Alex man, can you keep a secret?"

Alex laughed. "Do you even know when my birthday is?"

Gaz laughed along, but something seemed to click with Simon.

He knew.. Nothing about Alex.

His middle name, his birthday, where he grew up, his favorite colour, nothing.

That's why he had been so off-put by him, the man was a complete mystery. A mystery that nobody even considered solving because Alex just naturally came off as an open book.

He didn't know what to think from then on, he tried to dig up what he could on Alex but knew he wouldn't find much without the assistance of Laswell.

He spent weeks avoiding the American, narrowing his eyes at him when he was in his vicinity, completely unaware that the two of them shared such similarities.

Two enigmas, one much more obvious than the other.

It wasn't until some random Wednesday night, nobody awake but the stars. Simon stumbled upon Alex just outside the bases front door, a lit cigarette nursed between his fingers.

He wanted to ignore him, go back to bed, but he found himself stepping outside with the other.

Alex acknowledged him with a smile and a nod, but didn't speak. Simon stared at him, not bothering to hide the fact that he was searching for answers in the other man's warm gaze.

There was a thick silence between them, it wasn't uncomfortable but, it was far from comfortable at the same time.

Alex broke it first.

"I take you're not a fan of me?"

He chuckled dryly, humorlessly. An observation Simon couldn't say he expected. His eyes didn't leave the American, watching closely as he took a drag off the cigarette. He didn't know Alex smoked but, then again, what did he know about Alex?

That's the entire reason he was here.

"Don't trust what I don't know."

Simon finally replied, though by now it was more of a statement on its own than an actual response to his comment.

Alex shrugged, he didn't seem at all bothered by Simon's reply. Silence spread between them once more, Simon didn't like Alex's lack of response.

"You're ex-CIA, that's all anyone knows about you. Nobody knows anything about you, but they trust you."

Simon continued, he wanted answers, he wanted a reason to trust the other man. Alex was quiet, tapping the ash from his cigarette before he replied.

"What was that saying? Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones?"

In any other moment, Simon would have been offended by the comparison. But, Alex was right.

They were, almost scarily similar in every aspect but their personalities.

Silence again. It was more welcome this time around. Simon always appreciated the quiet when he needed to think.

The silence didn't last too long this time, Alex spoke up again.

"Humor me, do you ever forget that you're a person and not just a soldier?"

That question alone haunted him for days, Simon now felt uncomfortably aware of Alex.

The way the americans grin always seemed to falter ever so slightly when he held it, how his gaze would fog over at the scent of smoke or when it got too quiet, how his prosthetic always seemed to be moving in some way or another.

He was aware now, aware of the similarities they shared.

Aware of how, just like him, Alex was a soldier before he was a man.

[woosansang]

hi friends

sorry I disappeared without saying much of anything. nothing really happened for those who were worried, I just got busy with work and personal life. things are mostly good rn but I just can't see myself having time for giffing or tumblr for a little bit as work continues to get even crazier (im a year 12 teacher and it's the end of semester aka exam and major assessment season). as has been with the last 2 cbs, idk if I'll be around during promos to gif and rb all of your creations, but I do hope to get back into giffing and seeing what all my beloveds have made once I get a break from work next month. I can't promise I'll rb everything that's been building up in my tag, but I'll do my best to engage with those who have made tumblr such a wonderful place for me these past few years.

idk what the point of this is. ig I'm just trying to explain where I've been and where i will be for the next little while and assure anyone who was worried that things are okay. I will remain on semi hiatus for the time being and tbh I think it'll stay that way for the foreseeable future.

thank you to those who sent me asks and messages for my birthday a few weeks ago and I am so sorry I disappeared at the worst time once again. your wishes did not go unseen or unloved.

see yall around ����

[lokilysolbitch]

witchposting. my witchcraft learning method for new subjects/topics is: less than barebones research, poke my foot at it, read approximately one (1) book, play around with the topic in practice until i start having personal views about it, and at some point read more books for extra tips, to compare experiences, etc. i will explain the details of these steps in a minute

i need to have hands on experience for things to make sense or to help me learn meaningfully and i think a lot of people work this way. reading a bunch of books before you get hands on experience is (USUALLY) not very helpful. the words on a page won't have much meaning to you until you've seen the topic with your eyes and held it in your hands. it's better to have met a dog before trying to learn dog's body language from a book. you end up memorizing instead of learning

anyways. my steps:

i'm going to use poetry as an example and i'm gonna pretend this is my first time learning what a poem is. let's say i saw a youtube comment saying that they read a good poem that made them feel something. i saw this new word for the first time and figure i want to try making one.

less than barebones research:

i go on google, tumblr, tiktok, etc and search things like "poem" "what is a poem" "poetry". maybe even a baby book on poetry made with those thick cardboard pages. this is not any sort of in depth research. this is my first time hearing of a poem. i just need to know the very very basic idea of what a poem could be, how people view poems, things like that. in life this step would be equal to just hearing a phrase thrown around in general but of course with witchcraft, most people are not going to be talking about these things out at the family dinner or your friends birthday party. so this information is not meant to be gospel. it's just to expose yourself to the concept.

poke my foot at it:

this is where i make a half assed attempt or even just consider the concept of making a poem. do i think it sounds interesting? what would i write about if i made one? do rhyming and rhythm seem difficult? maybe i might write a line or two and see how it felt or if any part of it was easier or harder or more vague than i expected.

at this point you're coming up with questions and things you're curious about. so when you formally learn about more, you will naturally pick up on information that is useful to you. it makes formal learning more interesting because you have specific goals on what you want to get out of it. it's like how game tutorials are overwhelming and confusing at first, but once you play a little and realize what prizes you want out of the game, you'll care more when you're showed how to get them.

read approximately one (1) book:

the book number is optional of course but usually my little ADHD brain taps out after one book and won't read on that topic again for months, so i stick to one. i look around to find what book will have a good amount of information without being pretentious and hard to read, or too flowery to the point most of the words are meaningless. i only have one change for the next few months to finish a book so i try to find a good one.

play around with the topic in practice until i start having personal views about it:

at this point i have a good amount of general knowledge on poetry. maybe i don't know the big fancy stuff but i know about literary devices and tips of writers block and such. i have probably heard of a few specific types of poetry that seemed interesting that i could poke my foot at later.

at this point i just start writing. i try a poem writing technique i learned from the book. i try to make up my own. i write good poems on purpose or on accident. i wrote bad poems on purpose or on accident. i basically am sticking my hands in it and messing around and trying things to see how they feel. after a while i start to learn what i like, what i think is still confusing, what i think the book may have been wrong or biased on. i'm gaining personal experience and from that my own opinions that i may change later. i have experienced enough that i can discuss it without just repeating what i heard in books and i'm probably seeking out other peoples opinions to see if i could learn something from them. this is where the most useful learning comes from. maybe the book said to brainstorm one way but i learned that it didn't work with my autism or adhd or ocd or something. maybe through experience i learned a new way to brainstorm and want to challenge the idea that there's only one way to.

at some point read more books for extra tips, to compare experiences, etc:

eventually i get back to reading. i can either read on nicher poetry topics and start this whole process again. or i read more basic/general books to remind me of tips i may have forgotten about or to give me new ones. i read to learn more about other people experiences. i read more to see how much i've grown. i read more for inspiration. i read for lots of reasons

of course there's more nuance like if i do a basic search and learn something is dangerous or is sacred to a specific group im not in or initiated into, i will do more research to make sure that's true and to figure out if i should do it or not. but my main point here is that the general attitude in the witchcraft sphere is that you need to essentially need to read a million books before trying things so you don't make a bunch of mistakes. but some people like me are anxious and perfectionists and will get paralyzed trying to memorize all these books so nothing ever goes wrong ever. and sometimes you learn that to get out of that trap you need to close the book and make mistakes, sometimes on purpose. you don't learn how NOT to make mistakes, you learn how to get up from them.

you were doing witchcraft back when you were a kid and putting dirt and dandelions in a jar because your friend said it would grant you a wish, and hoping for the best, whether you got it or not. and reading a bunch of books doesn't make that any fancier or more polished. it has always been about you, your intuition, and what you have in front of you

[opuswrites]

MY WATER(meloria)GHOUL HCS BECAUSE HE'S ONE OF MY FAVOURITES AND HE'S VERY VERY UNDERRATED

he gets his tail and height from thresher sharks. his tail is a biiig one and it's so silly considering how small he is.

he often has trouble carrying it around for a long set of time because of that. it's very heavy and sometimes exhausts him. makes him very sore too, keeping it lifted all day so it doesn't get all dirty from the ground.

like a thresher shark, he knows how to hit with his tail too. he hit alpha during one of their playfights once and the fire ghoul was flabbergasted.

also like a thresher shark, the sweet boy knows how to ROCKET himself out of the water.

during beach days, pebble could be just chilling in the water, talking to air who was sun tanning on the dock, when water swam up to the little air ghoul under the water and hugged his waist tightly, then LAUNCHED themselves upwards, giggling and all.

since then pebble always asks him to do it again and again when they're at the pond.

speaking of the pond. oh boy.

he's very dependent in my opinion. like... he can go anywhere alone but he prefers company and will drag atleast one of them with him anywhere he goes.

mostly targets alpha. wherever water goes, alpha goes. if he doesn't like it? well that SUCKS bc water needs his emotional support personal heater.

oh, and alpha.

he only tolerates water messing with him. like... water has the permission to mess with alpha's hands, horns, tail... anything. also the other way of messing, alpha & water are often harmlessly bickering, most of the time ending in play fighting

in water's early days, alpha would let him win. not anymore, he's not afraid to go hard on water anymore, who's not afraid to fight back.

he was never afraid, honestly. he never saw alpha as threatening, or someone he should watch his back around.

also, back to alpha being a personal heater

not in a way sodo is to rain. or how ifrit was to dew. nope, water doesn't really get that cold. but he enjoys alpha's heat nonetheless and keeps him close.

sleepy boy. naps a lot.

while other water ghouls trill with their gills instead of purring, water actually purrs.

in my opinion primo's and secondo's ghouls aren't really friendly with the "newer" ghouls, so he didn't really know he was supposed to trill

so he just learned it over time from his bandmates

LOVES to party. alcohol drugs- anything, but he's very lightweight so alpha usually ends up carrying him back to their room

[y3ll0w-cullen]

some unfinished fanfic if Renesmee was a normal child brain-wise and Bella was still human

I woke up to soft piano playing. Well, partially soft. There would be a section of soft playing before there was a brief, off-key slamming of the keyboard, followed by other shushing or soft, deep laughter. I got up as quietly as I could, hoping that Edward wasn't listening too hard to anything else so I would at least have a chance to sneak up on them. I slowly opened the silent bedroom door and peeked out, and there they were.

Illuminated in the morning light, Edward sat with Renesmee on the piano bench. His cold hands gingerly played a simple melody, and then he paused and looked at our daughter. She tried to copy his fingers to the best of her ability but ended up pressing the wrong keys way too hard. Edward just smiled crookedly and played it again, this time with her, and he repeated it until she got it correct. When she did get it right, he said "Great job, darling! Can you play it without me?" And she replied, "Okay, Daddy!" and got a little too excited, slamming her tiny hands too loudly onto the keys, and all three of us jumped. I couldn't help but laugh softly. Renesmee was too occupied to notice me, but Edward glanced over his shoulder at me and grinned, extending a hand to me as an invitation. I grinned back and padded up to the two of them, taking my husband's cold hand and craning my neck over Renesmees head to kiss her warm forehead.

"Good morning, sweetie," I smiled at the surprise on my daughter's face.

"Mommy!" She completely forgot about the piano and spun around to launch herself into my arms. "You're awake!" She buried her face into my neck.

I only scooped her up into my arms and sat where she was previously sitting. I leaned into Edward's cool embrace and listened to him sigh as he rested his chin on my head. "How did you sleep, love?" He whispered and I couldn't stop my smile. I loved my beautiful family.

"I slept okay. You?" I looked up at him teasingly.

He rolled his eyes. "I slept exquisitely actually. Thanks for asking."

"Me and Daddy made breakfast!" Renesmee shouted, pulling herself from my lap and yanking my hand. I smiled back at Edward as I was dragged into the kitchen, and he only chuckled.

Soon, Renesmee was feeding me bites of a cinnamon roll, and Edward was sitting on the chair across from us, chin propped up on his hand as he stared dreamily at the two of us. "What?" I asked him when he wouldn't stop staring. He blinked twice and then tilted his head as a question. "Why are you looking at us like that?" I began to feel self-conscious under his gaze, and he only smiled at me.

"I'm trying to figure out what I did right in this existence to be blessed by two perfect princesses such as yourselves." He smiled so wide that his fangs were on complete display. I grimaced at him: he always knew what to say to make my face burn and Renesmee giggle, and right now was no exception. His gaze quickly shifted to Renesmee as she clapped her hands and blushed, happy to be her Daddy's Princess. I watched as Edward's chest puffed up and his eyes glittered when he looked at his daughter. He looked so lovingly at her that it made my heart swell. I didn't get the chance to look at him for too long before another bite of a cinnamon roll was shoved into my mouth.

-

That night, Edward was reading Renesmee a bedtime story as I did laundry. As soon as the laundry was folded and away, I leaned against the doorway to Renesmee's room and listened to his velvet voice speak to her. It didn't take long before I could hear my daughter's soft snores from her little bed and Edward saying "Goodnight, My Darling." He kissed her on the forehead and took her nightlight frog from her arms and places it on her nightstand. He smiled at her sleeping face, put the bedtime book away, and began to leave the room. He wasn't surprised at me standing there, he had heard me, but he smiled at me too, and grabbed me around the waist as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. As soon as Renesmee's door was shut he leaned his forehead against mine and whispered "Hi."

I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Hey." I didn't waste much time before pulling him into a passionate kiss. This startled him, obvious by the way he stiffened briefly before melting into it.

Before things could get too heated, he pulled away to inspect me. "What's this for?" He asked, not complaining but genuinely confused by my affectionate attack.

"You're such a good dad, Edward." His amber eyes widened and I knew if he had blood it would all be rushing to his cheeks. We stared at each other for a solid 5 seconds before he grinned as wide as his face would allow and ducked his head shyly. "It's true. Your parenting makes me so proud." At this, his shoulders tensed up and I could tell he was smiling even wider.

After a moment, his head shot up and he looked exhilarated from the praise I'd given him. "Thank you," His hands were shaking as he put them on my waistline. He loved to be told he was doing something right so dearly, I would coo at how adorable he was if not for something else on my mind. "I love being a father. She makes me so happy. I adore having a child."

"Yeah?" My arms around his neck pulled him even closer. His smile didn't waver, eyes glittering with excitement and pride as he looked down at me. "Why don't we go make another one then?" I nodded my head towards our open bedroom door, the bed visible from where we were standing. My hands moved down to begin unbuttoning his white shirt.

Now his smile dropped. "Bella!" He whisper-shouted almost scoldingly as he caught my wrists and held them still. "Y-You can't say things like that!"

"What, you don't wanna get me pregnant again?" I teased, pushing my body even closer to his.

His eyes got impossibly wider in surprise and embarrassment. "Isabella!" He chided, but he wasn't that opposed to the idea, judging by the hardening bulge pressing into the skin just below my belly button. And if he was so opposed, why did he let me drag him to our bedroom?

After we were done, I pressed my head into his chest, my burning body pressed against his ever-cold one. My chest was heaving, fighting for a full breath while his chest was still except for his deep, even breaths. He wasn't exhausted whatsoever, and that made me both excited and sad. Sad because we were so different. I was nothing special, just a mortal that needed to waste time to sleep, needed to rest. I got overwhelmed so easily, he could last for hours. For days, if he wanted to. That was the part that got me excited. Maybe one of these days I would ask him to keep going until I pass out...

"Are you alright, love?" He brushed a piece of hair out of my face. "Was I too rough?" I looked up at his handsome face and saw how worried he was.

"No, it was perfect," My voice cracked and came out all hoarse, to my embarrassment. He didn't seem to mind, however, he just nuzzled his face into my hair and sighed.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he breathed so softly I almost didn't hear him. "Please."

I shifted uncomfortably and he pulled back, looking into my face. I felt my face heat up at his staring. "I'm just... I wish I was like you." I said, skirting past the word Vampire.

He blinked, considering what I said, and then nodded slowly, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. "I know," he finally spoke after a minute of silence. "I know that's what you want. But, Renesmee-"

"I know, Edward." I stopped him, this conversation too painful to continue.

"You know I would do anything to be human again. To grow old with you and have as many kids with you as we want. You know how much I want it," His voice cracked and tears began to well in my eyes. "But it can't be done. And I know you want to be a Vampire, Bella, but think of Renesmee. She's getting older every day and I d-don't-" His lip trembled and I put my hand over his mouth before he could sob.

"I know, Edward. I understand. And you're right," Tears were now fully streaming down my cheeks. "But it's hard to not want that."

"I know," He whispered under my hand. He reached his cold fingers up to wipe the tears from my face, but I didn't let him. I buried my head in his chest and wrapped my arms tight around his waist. He hesitated for a moment before his muscular arms were around my shoulders, giving an incredibly soft squeeze. I thought about how much tighter he could hold me if my mortal body wasn't so fragile before I fell completely asleep.

[dykecassidy]

some CHUDAM i wrote before passing out last night

---

"I dont know why you keep hanging around me," dustin says. hes been fussing with his bag, showered at the venue, anything to stall for time.

"what do you mean?" stevie asks.

he'd been following dustin around all night, at his elbow, all smiles, asking if he wanted to eat here or somewhere else.

dustin frowned. he'd done, like, everything. everything he could think of to avoid going to his hotel, stevie trailing behind, but… it was late. he wanted to sleep. alone.

"you're hangman fuckin' page," dustin said, standing and grabbing his bag. "you have top of the card matches. you win titles. I'm named after a shoe." he had to walk by stevie to get out, so he stood up straight as he did, to his full height. "I keep the crowd entertained while they wait for the real show."

and stevie just looked at him. stupid blue eyes and that soft little mouth, not set into a frown or anything yet. just listening.

dustin sighed, put his hand up, making a level a little above his eyes, above stevies eyebrows. "you're here," dustin said. then he lowered his hand, bent a little at the knee. "and im here." he looked stevie in the eye, made sure he heard it. "got it?" he said, straightening and pushing past.

stevie didn't yield. Dustin knocked against his shoulder, but couldn't get past. they were pressed together, dustins good one against stevies, and dustin scowled. 

"cmon," he mumbled, "you don't need me."

stevie cocked his head. he didn't budge, shoulder to dustin, hovering his hands between them. "maybe," he said, eyes big, open, honest, "but i want you."

dustin snorted, still scowling. he backed off first, disappointed when he couldn't make stevie stumble. he tried to conjure up something sufficiently mean and prickly, something self depreciating enough that stevie would feel stupid arguing. 

"good for you," he finally settled on, and attempted to push past again, turning sideways to slip by. it actually worked, even though stevie grabbed at his wrist, but dustin could shake it off easy. "good talk," dustin called as he walked off, not really back to stevie.

[reborn--maggot]

Considering, when I have a moment and am not failing a class, to create yet another killjoy playlist, this time party themed. As a reasonable DJ im open for suggestions but like. Dance music. If its a sad ballad we do not want it!! Anything goes decade wise but I'm probably gonna make it 2000s-'10s heavy lol

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

your boyfriend has a little habit of being sort of..spacey. or at least he looks like he is.

despite his..ditzy and aloof appearance. shouto is very acutely aware of his surroundings.

especially when you’re in said surroundings.

he’s walking along the hallways with his friends, they’re chatting about everything and nothing, school and about the results of their last test. shouto doesn’t feel the need to interject, happy to simply listen and respond when he’s spoken to. except his mind is also kind of elsewhere at the moment because even in there he’s looking for you.

no matter what he’s doing, shouto todoroki has a piece of you in his mind. if his friends are worrying about their test results he’s perfectly fine, cus he studied with you. the letters he sends to his mom talk about his daily life, with little details about you sprinkled in. his father is trying to coerce him into coming to his agency again, shouto thinks it’d be a lot more enjoyable if you were with him.

you’re not with them right now, because mr. aizawa had asked you to send in some papers to the teacher’s lounge. you said you’d catch up with your friends as soon as possible and shouto’s listening, he really is. but he’s also scanning the crowd hoping to catch a little glimpse of you.

“what about you, todoroki ?”

shouto blinks, hearing his name come out of his freckled friend’s lips as he blinks at him expectantly with a smile. ochaco and iida also seem to be awaiting a response.

okay, so maybe he hadn’t been listening as well as he claimed..

“i’m sorry. i didn’t catch that last part, what were you saying ?” he asks bluntly, midoriya doesn’t mind and he repeats “i was asking you how you think your test went.” he chirps, shouto hums thinking about the question.

“i studied well for it, so i think it went well,” his friends hum, iida congratulates him for staying focused on his academics, waving his hand around in chopping motions.

and of course, shouto is always looking for you, so nobody’s surprised when he adds “yn also helped me study, so i think i’ll be..”

everyone is surprised though when he suddenly trails off. and without another word shouto walks ahead of his friends further down the crowded hallway. the lack of “oh, give me a second.” or “ i’ll be right back.”, the lack of anything stuns the three students so hard they freeze into place. they wonder what could’ve made him speed off in such a hurry, until ochaco gets a good look and points towards the dual haired boy.

ah, shouto’s found you.

you’re surprised to see him, your eyes widen “oh, hey sho !” he returns your greeting, his face hasn’t really changed from an outsiders point of view, but he leans in towards you the moment the words leave your lips and his whole face has gone soft, almost pudgy when you smile at him.

“i didn’t except to see you, you scared me !”

he blinks at that, shock settles onto his face as he bows his head in shame “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to..” simple, but earnest and it makes you melt.

“oh no, no ! you just popped up outta nowhere and it surprised me is all, got nothing to be sorry about.” you reassured, shouto’s expression changes and he returns, nodding happily.

“i missed you.”

you snort “i was gone for at most 10 minutes, shouto.”

“it was 11 minutes. and i missed you during that one extra minute, too.” if he had a tail, it’d be wagging at the speed of sound the way his face brightens when you laugh. you call him unbelievable and a small smile grows on his face

he’s just about to ask if you need help with your bag when you suddenly wave behind him. at your friends, who all share a sort of teasing, but also absolutely not surprised look.

oh, woops..

[lokilysolbitch]

how i make my eczema skin be nice to me: post shower edition

nobody asked but i wish id known it when i first got diagnosed: here's my moderate-to-severe eczema post-shower routine

it's especially useful for when you don't have the energy to shower or moisturize every single day bc chronic illness is a bitch. if you are like me and autistic and hate the feeling of lotion, this is going to feel like the devil.

pre-step one is to take a minute to charge up bc you will not be able to sit in your towel and stare at the wall right after the shower bc ur skin will dry out. so if you have pots like me, maybe get ur salt and water intake done before the shower bc you will need it bad

okay so you've just turned the shower off. ideally you got the dead skin off the eczema patches without giving yourself scabs. the first step now is to get a washcloth, get it wet and squeeze the water out, and pat dry yourself. i need to stop to squeeze water out again a few times during this

then, immediately start putting your preferred hypoallergenic, nonscented, sensitive skin friendly etc lotion on (or bath and body works bc for some reason their lotion is really nice on my skin while still being scented). and i mean like. there should still be a bit of a white cast/lotion streaks sitting on top of your skin. it will probably feel gross and bad. put a little extra on any eczema patches if you want

okay it gets worse. put your clothes on immediately. your clothes will get lotiony. (if you have scented lotion they will smell nice tho) ideally the clothes covers a lot of skin especially the skin with eczema patches. this traps all the moisture in and the extra lotion from the white cast will be absorbed right after your skin eats up the first layer of lotion. my skin gets dry and flaky 10 Minutes after showering and lotioning if i don't have those lotion streaks and cover my skin.

the end. now you can sit and stare at the wall

does this feel like the devil? yes. have i recently developed sensory issues with pruny fingers that makes this process even worse? yes. but. my skin stays soft and hydrated for days (the eczema patches need a little more attention of course but it still lasts a long time).

this whole thing takes like maybe 10 minutes if you move fast for the lotion and the lotiony feeing lasts. idek like. 15-20 minutes. im not really sure because it just slowly transitions to feeling lotiony to just normal hydrated skin.

if you need a lotion recommendation i would suggest something like vaseline (not the petroleum jelly, just the normal lotion and intensive care ones, the back might say something like "non greasy formula)

the end

[lokilysolbitch]

SYNESTHESIA MENTION! I HAVE THIS

times tables have story lines to me and words have colors. not all words but a lot of them do, especially swear words. they all have colors. i feel very strongly that fuck is purple. my full name is the pan flag

physical feelings have colors and shapes sometimes, like when i had stomach pain and the best way i could describe it was red lines with yellow around it

also to some degree i feel like this is really common but specific objects or things will have storylines or like pictures connected with them? like how someone will say a song sounds like sitting in a cafe but i will be like this chord sounds like how chocolate and caramel taste together and the look of a long polished mahoghany table" (major 7 chords). or like that one time i said a song sounds like a cinnamon roll without icing🧍(i dont remember the song but i think it was by NCT??)

The other day I was discussing my synesthesia to my family members since I had never told them that I had it, or how I perceive numbers and sounds/music. I decided to make a quick little write up thing explaining my experience with synesthesia, even though it's one of the more common types.

[fairysongs]

౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

[aroaceleovaldez]

reminder that the only reason the "ADHD is actually demigod BATTLE STRATEGIES" and "dyslexia is DEMIGOD BRAINS HARDWIRED FOR ANCIENT GREEK" things exist in the PJO universe is because it's a very direct reference to early 2000s teaching/parenting techniques for neurodiverse and disabled children, which aimed to frame childrens' disabilities and hardships as a "superpower" or strength so that the children would feel more positively about their disabilities or situations. This technique has fallen out of favor since then for the most part since more often than not it just results in kids feeling as though their struggles are not being seen or taken seriously.

Yes, demigods are adhd/dyslexic (and sometimes autistic-coded) in the series. This is extremely important and trying to remove it or not acknowledge it makes the entire series fall apart because it is such a core concept. Yes, canon claims that their adhd/dyslexia is tied to some innate abilities, which is based on an outdated methodology. It's important to acknowledge that and understand where it comes from! But please stop trying to apply it to other pantheons in the series like "oh, the romans have dyscalculia because of roman numerals!" or "the norse demigods have dysgraphia for reasons!" - it's distasteful at best.

A better option is to acknowledge the meta inspiration for why that exists in the series, such as explaining potentially that Chiron was utilizing that same teaching methodology to try and help demigods feel more comfortable with their disabilities and they aren't literal powers. In fact, especially given Frank, there's implication that being adhd/dyslexic isn't a guaranteed demigod trait, which means it's more likely to be normally inherited from their godly parent/divine ancestor as a general trait, not a power, and further supports the whole "ADHD is battle strategy" thing being non-literal. It also implies the entire greco-roman pantheon in their universe is canonically adhd/dyslexic - and that actually fits very well with the themes of the first series. The entire central conflict of the first series fits perfectly as an allegory about neurodiverse/disabled children and their relationships with their undiagnosed neurodiverse/disabled parents and trying to find solutions together with their shared disability/disabilities that the kid inherited instead of becoming distant from each other (and this makes claiming equivalent to getting a diagnosis which is a fascinating allegory! not to mention the symbolism of demigods inheriting legacies and legends and powers from their parents and everything that comes with that being equivalent to inheriting traits, neurodiversity, and disabilities from your parents).

anyways neurodiversity and disability and the contexts in which the series utilizes representation of those experiences particularly during the 2000s symbolically within the narrative is incredibly important to the first series and the understanding of what themes it means to represent. also if i see one more "the romans have dyscalculia instead of dyslexia" post in 2023 i'm gonna walk into the ocean.

[abbysbasement]

#RUNONS

Kittygirl!Reader x Mommy!Abby

The one thing Abby loved was that you always kept yourself soft, warm, and pliant for her. When she was wound up too tight, you'd pad across the couch to roll out on her lap, and she'd lay a thick, heavy palm on your back, petting down your shoulderblades to the base of your spine, fingering between your cheeks to grab a handful of soft, supple ass.

Your head would perk up, lips all soft, drooly and parted, eyes pearl-round gone, in the special place, just how she liked it. She made quick work of your boyshorts, unceremoniously tugging them around your knees before slicking up a finger through your juices.  Her hands were calloused, thick fingers pushing through the gummy ring of your cunt and exploring you deeper, as your hungry lips grabbed on for dear life. Her other hand fumbled with the buckle of her belt, pulling it from the loop. You winced instinctively, yet she dropped it chattering to the ground as she released her belt loop. From it, the blue of Abby's thick cock sprang forward, catching you in the chin. You whined, and she used her free thumb to part your lips, craning your head to the tip.

"Gotta glaze it up for me kitty, else 's gonna hurt goin' in."

Puppygirl!Reader x Owner!Ellie

Ellie loves being high around you, calls you her little stress ball. Plops you down in the center of her thighs, just boxers and a bra separating skin from skin, and draws in gently as her fingers pad around your body. Soon, you're toppled over onto the bed, Ellie squatting down to drag your panties to the side and deposit a spit slick finger into the warm, tight, and wet between your legs.

"Fuckin' like that baby? Know you do."

Her tattoed knuckles grazing down your lips, your neck and momentarily caressing the globe of a breast before hooking into your collar and pulling you forward, ghosting trails of ivory smoke into your little mouth.

"Good girl... pretty baby."

Her eyes were low and dark, taking you in in the dim light like a vulture taking in a freshly lain corpse. The shutters of her teeth bruising your neck and thighs, taking in the pieces of you greedily. Plunging your finger into your mouth to hastily, lovingly suck, cleaning off the spend with your soft tongue. Whatever she wanted, you let her have, and that's why she needed you, that's why this worked.