#I don't know if I'll develop this fully

[taraxippos]

One furry subcultural thing that I just really don't get is being emotionally invested in characters who are just like A Design with an implied personality and maybe like 'here's another design with an implied personality that is their boyfriend', and they mostly exist to be drawn in cute clothing. I cannot give a shit unless a character has a well-defined setting (not talking hardcore worldbuilding just like, a Setting that is defined enough to inform who they are and how they live) and a history and other characters to interact with. I don't mean this as a value judgment, this is obviously just a personal taste thing, but I just don't understand how you don't get like, bored.

[smile-files]

sorryyyy i'm thinking about bftff again. here's a quick drawing from a few months ago where i'd decided on the teams (team logos are liable to change. except for home & home. that's perfect)

[bedlamsbard]

super fair @ sports. Baseball’s legit though huh

fun fact: despite having taught baseball history multiple times and developing strong feelings about the history of the sport, I have still never uh. been to a baseball game.

(if asked I support the Seattle Mariners and the Atlanta Braves, but I don't actually follow baseball. like many people I also have a soft spot for the historical Brooklyn Dodgers, but that's not even for the expected fandom Steve Rogers reasons; one of the books we read for the baseball class was Jane Leavy's biography of Sandy Koufax, which stuck on me more than The Boys of Summer (which we also read and which is also about the Dodgers) did.) (I am aware that this book and Koufax's career covers the move from Brooklyn to LA.)

[kanameows]

hmm

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Another Clone Danny x batfam au, Danny was also full dead before he's shoved into a clone body, but it's not really relevant in this part.

[Pt2: here]

Danny isn't a hundred percent sure how he got here. Last thing he remembered was running away from the GIW and his parents. They got a lucky shot on him, and he was losing ectoplasum fast. He's pretty sure he was about to fully End. He remembers being mildly amused over his parents' inventions killing him twice, before it all goes dark.

He woke up as a baby. A clone baby by the looks of his environment, an underground lab(?). His creator(?) is staring at him as if he's a miracle, and given the fancy sci-fi screen thingy (a tablet? Or ipad? He's not sure how he knows these terms) in front of the cloning tank say "attempt 99", he probably is this guy's miracle.

Danny doesn't see anyone else around, and this guy, a teenager about Jazz's age (?), seems happy on a personal level to see Danny wiggling in the tank. So it's not likely he was forced to do this. Whatever this is..

"I did it...? Holy shit! I did it!" The teen cheers before freezing, "I'm a parent now.. I did not think this through... welp, I'm a parent now."

The guy checks his vitals before draining the tank. Danny is handled as if he's the most precious, yet breakable thing in the world to this kid.

"Hello, I'm Tim, your dad, I guess." The kid, Tim, introduces himself, and Danny giggles at him because if Danny was a normal baby, he'd have no idea what he was saying. "You're the clone of my dead best friend. He was half kryptonian. I promise to do my best to help you learn your powers and culture. I'll break into Clark's ice fortress if I have to to do it."

Danny has no idea what any of that means, but Tim seems determined, so Danny isn't too worried. He's more worried about the power thing. Are they going to be completely different from his old ones? Does he still have access to his ghost powers?

His little baby body can't handle his big emotions, and he starts crying. Tim panics, checking for mess, before realizing he doesn't have baby supplies. He clearly didn't think his cloning attempt would work with how unprepared he is. And that's valid if Danny really is his 99th attempt.

Tim bundles Danny up and rushes them to the nearest store that has baby supplies. Danny is clothed and fed promptly and given a wolf plushy. Danny isn't sure about the wolf thing, but the stuffie does sooth his baby instincts, so he rolls with it.

"Alright, baby. I... I didn't think of a name for you. I originally was trying to make a clone closer to Kon's age and figured they could name themselves, like Kon did." Tim sighs, slightly rocking Danny in his arms. "Man, I must seem insane talking to a baby. A baby I made because I couldn't deal with one more person in my life being dead or gone."

Danny notes the interesting wording.

"Okay. Can you understand me at all? I forgot to adjust the knowledge download to a year old's level, but that doesn't mean your baby brain absorbed any of the info."

Ooooh, that explains why he knows things that didn't exist where he's from.

Danny blows spit bubbles and attempts to nod. It's a bit hard, his baby muscles not developed enough for the action. Tim understands, though.

"Okay, okay." Tim looking both scared and relieved. "How about you pat me once for yes and twice for no? At least for now. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Danny lightly smacks a hand to Tim's face. They both giggle over it.

"Alright, so I'm going to list off names, and you can tell me yes or no, okay?" One pat. "Okay, let's see."

Danny wonders if he can get a new name that can still let him have Danny as a nickname.

"Jasper" No

"Darin" No

"Dugu" No??

"Presh?" No! Tim? Where are you getting these names??

"Ratan" No

"Cicil" No

"Matthew" No

"Theo?" No

"Alihan" No

"Atiya" Nope

"Tesher" No

"Senai" No

"Uuum... Habwat?" No

"Geoffrey" No

"Amari?" Nope

"Jordan" ... huh, technically could get Danny from that, but still. No.

"Riley?" No

"Drew?" Nope

"Nova" Oooo so tempting, but no

"Esteban" Nope

"Izar" No

"Aedan?" You know what, good enough. That's Danny's new name.

Tim looks misty eyed when Danny finally agrees to a name.

"Alright, welcome to the world, Aedan Drake." Danny blows bubbles at him. "We'll visit adding Kent and getting you a proper kryptonian name when you can actually speak and understand what those names mean. Kon's human name was Conner Kent, and his kryptonian name was Kon-El. It translates to abomination of the house of El. He was a clone of Kal-El and wasn't treated well for it. I won't let the Els treat you as they treated him."

Tim looks pissed on his friend's behalf and cradles Danny protectively.

"The Els don't matter anyways. You will always be a Drake. And Drakes protect what they claim with viciousness." He kisses Danny's forehead. He then moves to the fanciest computer Danny has ever seen, and with the hand not supporting Danny's body, starts designing what appears to be a bulletproof and stabproof baby carrier. "I should have waited til after I finish hunting for clues to get Bruce, he's my adoptive father, out of the timestream. My siblings think I'm crazy, which creating a clone isn't helping my case over, but I know he's alive. I found evidence, just not enough to prove it to them."

Danny starts nodding off. Tim's ramblings are soothing and his hold gentle, Danny's tiny baby body doesn't stand a chance at staying awake. He's sad he's missing out on all the dad lore because of it.

Once the carrier is ready, Tim starts going out and taking Danny with him. Danny is actually pretty safe on these outings. The carrier is bulletproof, stabproof, has tinted bulletproof glass so Danny can get sun without people seeing him, it's temperature controlled, well ventilated, and has plenty of cushion. Seriously, Danny is sure the whole thing is like 60 pounds with him in it, but Tim gives zero fucks. He's determined to keep Danny safe.

It's super touching. And Danny swears to one day return the favour. The day is closer than he thinks when a creepy old fucker crawls out of the woodworks. Danny hates him instantly. Tim explaining the creep's relation to Tim's family doesn't change Danny's mind. In fact, it probably makes his opinion on this Ra's Al Gul even worse. And once he sees how that pedo looks at his sweet new dad, he plans to be an absolute menace.

[ssahotchnerr]

possible idea for married hotch since you asked for requests😋 (and cause i love your writing)

maybe one where he gets injured and with the rest of the bau he’s just brushing it off but when wifey pulls up? different story.

he’s just all 🥺🥺 at her and the team is like wtaf?

also can i be 🌊 anon pretty please?

healing touches

i love that 🥺🥺🤕 cw; bau fem!reader, established relationship (hehe they're soooo in love), injury/blood descriptions, aaron being stubborn🙄, playful banter, fluff <333

The first SUV arrived back at the police department after apprehending the unsub. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss walked inside, pulling their vests off in sync.

You might have been mistaken, but their gazes immediately locked onto you as they removed their protective gear. Their stares were almost unsettling, as if they knew something you didn’t, and were waiting to see the rest unfold. Unease filled you from head to toe.

"Hey," you stacked a few files together, placing them down. "How'd it go? Did you get him?"

"Yeah, 'course we did." Morgan sauntered over, dropping his vest onto the table with a thud.

"Well," Emily added, a slight grimace on her face. "Not without putting up a relentless fight. It wasn't pretty, I'll tell you that."

A bad feeling formed in your gut. Even Spencer's attention was gained, his head lifting from his book.

"What do you me-"

Your words were interrupted by Aaron and JJ walking in. JJ, perfectly fine. Aaron on the other hand, was moving at a much slower speed than normal, definitely banged up with a fair amount of blood present on his face.

Your eyes widened in alarm, meeting him halfway.

"Oh my god, Aaron. Are you okay?" You immediately unstrapped his vest for him, tucking it under your arm. The lessening pressure seemed to help some, light tension lifting from his body.

Your hand raised to cup his jaw, moving it gently to observe the damage. There was definitely a developing bruise underneath his right eye, his forehead and cheek were both littered with scrapes of all shapes and sizes. Aaron winced when his head reached a particular angle, and it wasn't a subtle wince either. It was a startling jolt, agonizing pain obvious.

But it was at your touch, and your presence, that his eyes softened. The stagnant sharpness dissolving as he looked at you with a tenderness that was almost too raw to hide. You pulled back to get a better look at him as whole, ensuring he was fully intact.

"He's 'fine', in case you were wondering. Only told us 'bout a million times." Morgan added air quotes, sitting down and kicking his feet onto the table. "Refused medical attention, even."

"Manners." You swatted his foot, causing him to lower them before turning back to Aaron. You tutted at him softly, "You did? After that lil stunt you just pulled?"

"Well... I guess it is starting to hurt more now."

"I wonder why," JJ commented humorously under her breath, hiding her smile with her palm. Additionally, Emily and Derek gave him a look.

You quickly reached into your bag, riffling through it until you found your handy tube of Neosporin. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."

Aaron didn't argue, didn't utter a single word as he followed you to the bathroom like a lost puppy. Once inside the small space you maneuvered him back against the sink, washing your hands next.

"That was stupid of you." You wet a paper towel, dabbing his cuts and ridding of any dry blood, once again causing him to flinch at the touch. You pulled the towel away, pausing a moment, before resuming gently. "Even if you think you're not in need of getting checked out, please do, for my sake at least. I'd like my husband to stay in one piece if possible."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"We were clearing the grounds and he managed to catch me by surprise," Aaron huffed out, evidently annoyed at himself. "I should have seen it coming. Seen him in the shadows, reacted faster."

"Baby, you may think you have the invincibility of Superman, but you don't. You're human, it's okay to miss things every once and a while." You reassured him softly, tossing the towel aside and moving onto the Neosporin. After dabbing some onto your index finger, you began blotting it thoroughly onto the cuts. "Which I'm fine with, by the way, you're much better looking."

"Yeah?" A laugh escaped Aaron, but his chuckle was interrupted by the twinge in his ribcage, the entirety of it shooting up in pain.

"I'm sorry," you gasped gently, guilt sweeping through you.

"It's fine, 'm fine." He breathed out through his teeth, his jaw clenching momentarily, until the pain subsided. "I'm okay sweetheart. Now c'mon, your face is far too pretty to look that worried."

Your eyebrows were furrowed, eyes frantically searching his face.

"Really. So I'm a little bruised up, I've been through far worse."

You sighed, not entirely convinced. "Fine. But when we get home tomorrow," your eyes narrowed slightly, pointing the Neosporin at him as a 'threat'. "You're resting. Come hell or high water."

"Deal."

"I'm happy you're okay." Suddenly emotional, tears dared to spill from your eyes. They stalled at your waterline, completely blurring your vision. You hated to see him in pain, and the reminder of past events didn't help. "Don't scare me like that."

"C'mere," Aaron raised his arms, gesturing for you to come close.

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"Come here."

You took a step forward, not raising your arms to potentially inflict pain, but rest your body against his. Your face found home in the crook of his neck, while his arms did wrap around you. Not as tight as usual, but enough to hold you and not hurt.

"I'm fine," he kissed the side of your head. "And I have my girl to thank for that. Although, you did miss a spot."

"I did? Where?" You pulled back, beginning to unscrew the tube's cap but Aaron's hand stopped you.

"Right here." He pointed to his lips, playing up the 'anguish' in his eyes. "Hurts real bad."

Your lips tugged into a smile, leaning in and offering him a short, sweet kiss.

"That's all I get?"

You playfully rolled your eyes before giving his lips another quick kiss. He chased your lips, but you pulled back, keeping just out of reach.

"Want a longer one? Get medical attention next time."

[tahbhie]

Reasons Why 80% of Romantic Plots Fall Through.

Haven't you wondered why a romantic story you have so much hope for suddenly flops? Whether it's yours or not, let's see what could be the problem.

• Relying Too Much on the Outcome

Unfortunately, no romance is complete without an arc. In other words, it is more than just the intimacy. When writers don't allow the relationship to develop naturally, it feels forced. Rushing to the final romance without building a solid foundation will make the story feel shallow and unconvincing. Take your time, flesh out the idea, and follow the plot gradually.

• Creating Unnecessary Victimization

I often see writers make the mistake of portraying one character as too weak or pitiful only for the sake of it. This unnecessary victimization can undermine the character's depth and make the story less compelling. Your readers won't cry along with a female character whose decisions are pretty sour compared to a five-year-old. It's just simply annoying.

Instead, both characters should have strengths and weaknesses, make realistic decisions, making them more relatable and balanced.

• Cringy Conflict.

Realistic conflict is essential for a compelling romance. Over-the-top or contrived conflicts can make the story feel forced and cringy. Conflict should come naturally and blend perfectly into the plot. It's not advisable to pop a challenge that's definitely not necessary in the name of 'keeping the stakes high.'

Rather, focus on creating believable challenges that the characters must overcome, adding depth and authenticity to the plot.

• Neglecting Other Emotions Outside Romance.

It's not only about love, or roses, or dinner nights, or lucky dates with the billionaire. Show the other emotions fighting for dominance: the hurts, pains, joy, frustration, desperation, anger, sadness, jealousy, anxiety, or even moments when a character falls out of love with the other and can't understand their feelings.

Focusing solely on love can lead to a one-dimensional story. For a well-rounded narrative, explore these emotions to create a richer and more immersive experience for the readers.

• Underdeveloped Characters.

What's a story without a fully-fledged character, especially if they are the main character in a story?

You might have heard people talk about the importance of backstories and others saying too much of it tires them out, but here's the thing—balance. It's what people fail to incorporate. I'll try to cover this in any of my upcoming blog posts. Follow to keep up.

To better understand why we should cry for, laugh with, pity, admire, adore, scold, yell at, advocate for, and smile with your character, we need to know why they are what they are, who they are, and why they make the choices they make.

It's important to create characters with distinct personalities, backgrounds, and motivations. When readers care about the characters, they become more invested in the story and its outcome.

And that's my Christmas gift from me to you 🎁. Merry Christmas 🎄

[tragedytells-tales]

Six characters MK's from LMK AU's to make fanart of, for enrichment and practice, final!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Possessed MK AU requested by: @sc6rl3t

New Past AU MK by: @lululocomo | Requested by: @estellardreams

Harbinger MK AU requested by: @milkywaypudding

Shadowpeach Bio Parents Second Star AU MK by: @kyri45 | Requested by: @writing-heiress & @goldentigereyemania

EPICTM Legendary AU MK by: @ducky-dawn47

If you requested something and I didn't do it/have a request in mind, then I'll likely draw it for round 2 or just for fun at some point!!

This is a list of summaries for every AU

Champion of Destiny:

MK got possessed long before his first fight with the Lady Bone Demon. A curse was whispered between those harsh words she sewed into his mind that day in Spider Queens lair. And what makes a better champion than a king or a warrior? Something absolute, something destined, someone crafted by a goddess herself.

A harbinger.

-

The New Past:

"After getting in the Pillar of Heaven, the cycle end and MK cannot go back home. With the help of Nuwa and the color stone, he was send to the next cycle so he could live a new life without the burden of being the harbinger of chaos.

MK, now fully a mystic monkey, arrived in this new cycle at the time of Journey to the West, but he have no idea at what point of the book he is! Is it during the pilgrimage? or way before?? he don't know for now, but he will soon know."

-

Nuwa's Path, True Meaning of Sacrifice:

With every beginning comes an end. Such is the world's cycle, written by the pen of a lone child. The little Harbinger awakens and is thrown into the end of the world. Powerful malicious demons roam a mortal world that has been abandoned by its heros, and the Harbinger fights to survive until he reaches his purpose. Or nearly dies to the Lady Bone Demon.

He finds sanctuary on Flower Fruit Mountain, where the Monkey King protects his kingdom from chaos. Even if it means adopting it 🥴

-

Shadowpeach Bio Parents Second Star:

After the events of last year, including becoming accidental fathers, fighting heaven, and figuring out parenting through personal development, Macaque and Wukong decide that it's time for their own take on Nuwa's idea. They're ready to create a kid by themselves, and MK gets a new sibling that he's definitely gonna ignore his parents for!

-

Legendary:

"A world where Wukong and Liu'er were separated very differently from Canon, and where Demonic and Celestial Courting is far more important to the Legend of the Monkie Kid.

Follow the Monkey Trio as they navigate a world of heartache, persecution, harassment, retribution, justice, and eventually...

Reunion."

[witherby]

When Bruce brought Mousy in, they had that new baby smell. The baby smell that always seems to be on few months babies. Which is exclusively why weekly cuddle huddles now exists in the manor. Just one day/half day in a week with the whole Batfam +Alfred huddled around in the living room under a giant pillow fort and they just relax and play with Mouse before eventually taking a short group nap to calm down a little bit from all the stress of vigilantism from the week.

-🍨

That's so sweet and cute. Allow me to show you what it looked like before they established the weekly cuddle huddle.

The Littlest Wayne: New Baby Smell

"The baby's gonna have a nose-shaped dent on top of their head if you keep doing that."

Bruce lifts his head just enough to press his cheek to the top of your tiny head instead, then settles back down into the couch. Tim rolls his eyes.

"How good even is the smell? They're a baby," he says, opening his hands. "B, my turn. Give."

"Hmm. Fine, but remember to support the head. They don't have any well-developed neck muscles yet."

Tim scoops you up and sniffs your face. Then he does it again at the crown. You make a low, curious noise, but otherwise don't care.

"What the hell, this is amazing." Tim turns and walks out of the room with you.

"Tim!" Bruce calls, offended. "Hello? Give me back my baby?"

"My baby now." Tim keeps walking and Bruce gets up and follows him until they're both in the day room. The teen sinks into the much more plush couch cushions and gently presses his nose to your head. "What do they do to babies to make this happen?"

"Google it. I'll hold them while you do," Bruce says, reaching for you again. Tim ducks away from his hands. "That was rude. Don't you have anything else to do today?"

"Cleared my schedule," Tim says. "I'm totally free. Don't need to do a thing but this." He sniffs you again. "Babies are so weird. Hey. Hey you. Yeah, hello, open your eyes. Hi! You're silly and weird and smell great. Do you know that?"

You squint, nose crinkling in irritation. Why is your warm bed being so noisy? You are tired. Silence, warm bed.

"You're bothering them. Give me the baby," says Bruce.

"You're bothering them. Go annoy one of your other kids. I'm getting my brotherly bonding in."

"Bothering? I love bothering people," Jason says, strolling into the room. "What are we doing?"

"Why are you here?" Tim asks.

"Cause I'm also nosy. Answer the question, Replacement."

After some gentle wheeling (read: Jason threatening to go declare himself alive just to make their already hectic schedules ten times worse), they tell him. Dick, who was passing by, hears this and peeks his head in, too, and it's not long before you're being passed around like a bong at a campfire so your family can get a hit of that new baby scent.

Damian finds his whole family another hour later, curled up in a big, careful pile around you and dozing.

"Ridiculous," the assassin mutters, whisking you away to be placed back in your crib. "Don't they know that smell is strongest at your head because it's coming from your brain, which you can only detect because your skull hasn't fully hardened yet? If you smell good, your parents won't want to abandon or kill you in favor of raising your stronger kin, thus greatly increasing your chances of survival. Classic evolutionary biology."

He lowers you back down into the crib. Instinctively, your tiny hand finds its way around his finger and grips it tight. Damian thumbs over the back of your hand for a moment, quickly checks over his shoulder, then leans down and sniffs your head.

"Bye," he mutters, gently prying his hand free and leaving you to rest.

[keirareidss]

suggestive comments and coffee stains -s.r

♡ summary: you're obsessed with teasing your adorable, easily-flustered co-worker pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut, suggestive language, case details, wc: 2.7k based on this request

Another serial killer has brought the BAU to Nebraska for their expertise. You were new to the team, but skilled nonetheless. Aaron Hotchner had you transferred from the organized crime division a few weeks ago and this was your second case with your new teammates.

You'd already taken a liking to Garcia and you bonded with Agent Prentiss pretty quickly. The person who intrigued you the most, though, was Agent Reid. He was a genius, an IQ of 187 and he could read 20,000 words a minute. He also had the most adorable blush on his face whenever you gave him a compliment, which you made sure to do often.

Him and his sweater vest stole your heart from the moment you saw him. He'd given you that little tight-lipped smile and a wave when you joined the team and made you a coffee the next day.

Looks like pretty boy has a crush. You heard Morgan teasing him in the kitchen later.

No. I'm just... welcoming her. You hoped that wasn't true. To be honest, you were developing a little crush on the young man. He was endearing with his little rambles and his glasses.

The unsub was kidnapping and torturing young men, signs of sexual assault found when their bodies were dumped. You arrived in Nebraska, heading to the police station to set up. Hotch sent Morgan and Prentiss to the last dump sites, JJ to talk to the press, and he went with Rossi to the morgue. You and Spencer stayed behind to make the geographical profile.

"So what do you like to do in your free time?" You asked, sitting at the conference table, your feet kicked up on it, a file in your lap. Spencer was up at the board pushing pins into the map.

"What?" He looked over his shoulder, brows furrowed at your sudden questioning.

"Like, do you have any hobbies?"

"Oh. I- I don't know. Sometimes I play chess in the park."

"Oh, fun. You should teach me how."

"You don't know how to play chess?" He turned around fully now, tilting his head.

"No, but I know a few chess jokes."

"Really? Tell me one."

"Why does MC Hammer only play blindfold chess?"

"Why?"

"He won't let anyone touch his pieces." You respond, grinning in anticipation for his laughter but it didn't come. Only a furrow of his eyebrows once again.

"What does blindfold chess have to do with touching pieces?" You smile drops slightly at having to explain the joke.

"Well you call out the coordinates, not play with actual pieces. There's no board in blindfold chess."

"If there's no board why is there a blindfold?" You giggled at him.

"You're thinking way too far into this." He frowns, turning back to the map. You stood up, striding over to him. "What about this one?" He looked over at you and leaned closer to him. "I'll play with your pawn all night until it turns into the knight I'm looking for." His face goes red and he looks away.

"I- I think I liked the other one better." He stammered, avoiding eye contact. You headed back to your seat as Spencer kept his back fully to you, hiding his blush.

Caffeine was needed if you were going to get through this, this job truly worsened your coffee addiction, so you were going out on a coffee run, bringing Spencer with you. For help carrying the cups, of course.

You headed to a cafe nearby, wanting better quality coffee than the stale police precinct stuff. It was early enough in the case that you weren't in your groove yet. You didn't have many leads so all you could do was wait for something big to happen. You know when you're cutting something and the scissors just start gliding cleanly? That's the feeling you were anticipating. The smooth glide of the denouement.

Spencer walked alongside you, his hands moving animatedly in the air as he explained growing conditions, processing methods, roasting styles, and whatever came to mind about coffee beans. You'd prompted the ramble, asking him purposefully, 'why does coffee taste different in different places?'

The bell above you dinged as you opened the door to the cafe, Spencer pausing his rant so you could order your long list of requests from the team. He continued talking as you waited for the drinks, standing against the wall. You watched him with a small smile, his excitement in his knowledge clear from his face and demeanor.

Eventually, his rant came to an end and he went silent with an awkward little, 'so... yeah'. He'd somehow made his way from coffee beans to frog habitats and you didn't even remember your initial question.

"You really know a lot." You said in awe. He ran a hand through his hair, looking down with a blush.

"Yeah, I guess." Your name is called and you go to grab the drink holder, Spencer picking up the other two drinks. He follows you to the small counter on the other side of the cafe where you set down the drinks to grab straws. You turned to grab the two drinks from Spencer, not realizing how close to you he was. You walked right into his hand as he was holding it out to you, the drink spilling all over your button up (thank god it was an iced coffee).

Spencer's eyes widened comically and he quickly grabbed a handful of napkins rubbing at your shirt.

"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, that- I didn't mean to- I was just-"

"Spencer, it's alright." You chuckled, looking down at his hand. If there wasn't a napkin in his hand he would be basically pawing at your breasts. You could feel the coffee staining your shirt, soaking through to your skin as something else was soaking your panties between your legs.

"I'm so sorry." He repeated, wincing when the stain didn't come out. "I- um, you can take my jacket." He stammered, pulling his blazer off.

"It's okay Spencer. You know," You step closer, tilting your head back to look in his eyes. "I would have been wet no matter what, seeing you." You would think he was a malfunctioned robot the way he froze, mouth agape, speechless. You raised your eyebrows, a teasing grin on your face.

"I- I don't-" Okay, he really was malfunctioning. You Took the blazer from him, putting it on before cleaning up the rest of the coffee spill. You left him standing there wide-eyed, heading to the counter to re-order JJ's drink. He'd apparently gathered himself by the time you got back to him, holding one of the drinks and waiting for you to give him the other one.

He was quiet on the walk back, his face still bright red to the tips of his ears. What you didn't realize was that his mind was racing. Sure, he's been flirted with before, but not from someone he liked to call a friend. He couldn't tell if you were being serious. Were you actually interested in him or did you just want a quick fuck? He didn't know which he preferred.

On one hand, he was sure he wasn't in love with you. It was just a little crush. It happens. On the other hand, he didn't know if he'd be able to have a one night stand with you and not catch feelings. He could see it happening pretty clearly, you would fuck him in a hotel room or something, and he'd be lusting after you for the rest of his long, miserable career. God, why did you have to say that to him?

"Are you okay? You've been acting weird." You confronted Spencer a few days into the case. It was looking like it was going to be a long one.

"I'm not acting weird." He instantly defended. You raised your eyebrows at him. He was most definitely acting weird. The past few days he'd been sort of... avoiding you. When you sat next to him in the conference room, your knee brushing his, he'd find some reason to get up. He needed the bathroom or he wanted to refill his already filled coffee cup or some other bullshit excuse.

You were starting to suspect he was upset with you. Had you crossed a line with your comment? Did you make him uncomfortable?

"Yes you are. Look, I'm sorry I said that in the cafe the other day, I was just-"

"It's not about that." He cut you off quickly, a rosy blush already rising on his cheeks. You'd cornered him in the precinct kitchenette, making sure no one was around when you started interrogating.

"What is it then?"

"It's just... I mean... were you serious?"

"What?"

"Like... did you mean it?"

"When I said you made me wet?" He instantly went red, his eyes flickering to find anything else he could look at. "Yeah. I meant it." You stepped closer, crowing him against the counter. "Why? Does that turn you on?" His breaths were coming in quicker now as he stared down at you. Someone cleared their throat behind you and you stepped back, turning to find one of the cops awkwardly going to the coffee machine.

You give Spencer one last sultry glance before heading back to the conference room. Spencer felt his face heat as the officer's eyes bore into him. He quickly left the kitchenette, following you back to the conference room.

The AC had stopped working in your hotel room. Unfortunate, seeing as that was supposed to be where you get rest after working an intense and stressful case, and if you couldn't do that. how were you supposed to get any work done on said case?

You decided to head across the hall, knocking on your coworkers door softly, in case he was asleep. You didn't want to deprive someone else of rest.

"Hey, what's up?" Spencer answered the door, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"The AC in my room is broken, can I stay with you?" Spencer felt his heart speed up at the thought of what that could mean.

"I- there's only one bed. Doesn't JJ or Emily have room?"

"Emily snores and I think JJ had phone sex with her husband. It's a few nights, Spence, please?" He hesitated before sighing, stepping aside to let you enter his room. You grin, heading past him to set your go bag on the desk in the room. He hadn't even seen you holding it when he answered the door, but that might have been because his mind was preoccupied with picturing everything that could happen with the two of you in one bed.

"Mind if I shower?"

"Go ahead." Spencer said, his voice rough. Great, now he was picturing you in the shower. He sits on the bed, poring back over the files while he listened to the sounds of water running in the bathroom. If he strained his ears enough, he could hear the faint sound of you humming softly.

Soon, the water turned off and he could hear your humming more clearly. The door opened and you walked out in your pajamas, hair dripping down your back. You went back to your go bag, putting your work clothes inside. Spencer's eyes caught the pair of sleek black of panties you slipped back into the bag. He quickly averted his eyes when you turned back around, heading for the bed with your hairbrush.

"What are you looking at?" You asked brightly, peering at his files.

"Just the missing persons reports for all the victims. Something doesn't seem right." He mumbles.

"Oh?" Now you're intrigued. You shuffled across the bed leaning against his side to look closer at the files. He glanced at you, feeling the heat of your body through your shirt. Around the neckline and your shoulders were damp from the ends of your hair. "What's not right about them?"

"Just... I don't know, the way they were reported. It seemed so... formal. And they're all so similar."

"Hmm." You hummed, letting your head drop to his shoulder. "How long have you been looking at these?"

"I dunno. A few hours." You sighed, reaching out to clean up all the files. "Wha- no, it's-" He immediately protested.

"Spencer, you need a break. You've been looking at these for too long." You said, gathering them all and reaching across him to put them on his nightstand.

"I'm fine." He said weakly, staring at you, nearly bent over his lap. You sit back, on your knees next to him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Y-yeah. Shoot."

Do you... do you ever think about me?" You looked at him through your eyelashes and he shifted on the bed.

"Yeah, I guess."

"No, I mean," You shuffled closer, setting a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where his cock was hardening in his pajama pants. "Do you think about me like this?" Your voice gave off the illusion of innocence. He stared up at you, eyes going wide as he blushed.

"I..."

"Have you ever thought about me touching you?" You asked as your hand trailed further up, palming his cock. He let out a small moan, his hips jerking a bit.

"Yes." He breathed. You grinned, your hand slipping past the barrier of fabric, under his boxer briefs to grasp his cock in your palm. His breath hitched as you began stroking. "Wha- what are you doing?"

"I think about you too. You're so-" You cut yourself off, kissing him as if you'd been holding yourself back and couldn't help it anymore. "adorable, I can't fucking help myself. Every time you wear one of those-" You press another bruising kiss to his lips. "fucking sweater vests, I just wanna-" Another kiss. "rip it off you." He whimpered against your lips.

"Are you being serious?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes. He couldn't believe someone like you was actually into him like that.

"Spencer, I'm dead serious." You said, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock, catching the precum that dribbled from the top and spreading it down his length. You pulled his pants down enough to free him from his confines, slowly jerking him off.

You moved your kisses to his neck, the skin feeling warm under your lips. He breathed out shakily, a moan slipping past his mouth. You pulled away from him, shuffling further down the bed and bending down until your lips meet the tip of his cock.

He gasps as you take him into your mouth, taking as much as you can before pulling back up. You take a deep breath through your nose, sinking down again, taking more of him until he hits the back of your throat.

Your head bobs up and down as he whimpers, trembling underneath you. His hand finds your hair, grasping tightly, making you moan, the vibrations on his cock making him jerk.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm close." He whines, his head falling back. His hips jerk up and you move your hands up, holding him down against the bed. You swirl your tongue around the head, and Spencer lets out a high pitched moan. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" Seconds later hot ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. You swallow it down greedily, hollowing out your cheeks as you drain every last drop.

You pull off his length, a trail of spit following as you lift your head to grin at him. His eyes are closed, strands of hair falling over his forehead. You brush it back, him blinking up at you blearily.

"You're... you're so..." He trails off, staring up at you with wide heart eyes. You chuckled, your hand trailing his jaw.

"So what?"

"Perfect. I can't believe you like me." He breathes and you laugh incredulously.

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Cause you're you. You're... flawless."

"So are you." He scoffs, shaking his head and your eyes widen. "You are! Do you need me to show you?" You asked, your hands trailing up his thighs, making him shudder.

"I don't..." You chuckled as his breath hitches. You lean down, pressing your lips to his.

"Ready for round two?"

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre, @tinythebunni

[tizeline]

Presenting: The AU I accidentally created OOPSIE!! 😬😬😬

And yes, I know, it's another Seperation AU, and yes YES, I KNOW, they're a bit overdone at this point, bUT LISTEN!! That's precisely how I ended up in this situation!!!

So there's a lot of Seperation AUs exploring a lot of different scenarios with the turtles being raised, well, seperately. I've seen quite a few of them at this point, and despite whatever the combination is when it comes to turtle + parental figure, I'm sure I'm not the only one who has noticed a pattern of specifically Donnie often being raised by a villain. Which makes sense, he has a tendency to put on this evil-mad-scientist-act in the show, so of course a lot of us want to see what Donnie would actually be like as a proper antagonist. But that just made me think think of the opposite possibility, of Donnie being the singular good guy while his brothers are all bad guys. Mind you, I'm sure SOMEONE must've thought of this concept before me, but I haven't seen it! So here we are!

In this AU (which doesn't have a name so don't ask!) Splinter only managed to yoink Donnie during The Incident™, so he ended up an only child, while Raph, Leo and Mikey were raised by Draxum. I also imagine Draxum being at least a decent dad considering the circumstances, so the kids he raised ended up with pretty similar personalities to what they have in canon.

Because of that we get Hero Donnie who acts all villainous cuz he's a total theaterkid, and Villain Raph, Leo and Mikey who act all heroic cuz they honestly believe they're doing the right thing in literally destroying all of humankind and as a result developed an intense case of main character syndrome.

Anyway here's some references-

I don't know how far I'll explore this AU. I fully intended to just make like one or two posts rambling about the basic concept, but when I was drawing these images my brain went into full Brain Blast mode and I started coming up with a bunch of other ideas so uh... we'll see how this turns out later I guess haha

[pineconepie]

More Vincent!! >:)

TW: Kidnapping, injured reader, parental yandere, infantilization, murder (not major characters), developing Stockholm syndrome(?)

...

Its been a few weeks ever since Vincent kidnapped you (or "adopted you" as he likes to put it). For the first few days, it was hell trying to get comfortable around your new "dad". It took even longer to feel safe at the Cryo estate, and get adjusted to the people there.

Most of them were surprisingly not that scary once you got to know them.

For the first time in a while, you felt happy, once you adjusted. Sure, being forced to act like a baby against your will was humiliating and embarrassing. But, at least Vincent could be a lot worse.

"Comfy, pumpkin?" he chuckles, ruffling your hair.

You're nestled against him, watching some kid's movie on TV while nestled up against his side.

He seems so much happier now, too. Well, at least now that you've finally come to terms with your fate and given in to him. There weren't a lot of options in this scenario. If you tried to run away or tell anyone outside the Cryo organization, Vincent would have probably killed them.

That thought scares you as well as makes you sick to your stomach, but there isn't much you can do.

"Yeah," you mutter, eyes slipping shut. "'m tired."

Vincent shifts slightly. You feel a light kiss being pressed into the top of your head. "Then I guess it's nap-time, huh? I..." He's interrupted by his phone ringing. His expression quickly turns into a scowl as he checks the caller ID, and answers it after sending you an apologetic look. "Phoenix, this better be urgent."

"Heeey, Boss, Scarlet Syndicate is kinda screwing us over right now." There's sounds of yelling in the background. "They wanna speak to you."

Your eyes widen. Scarlet Syndicate, the same group that forced you into working for them.

Vincent rubs the bridge of his nose. "Then they're idiots. Fine. Tell them they're gonna get what they wished for. Send me the location and I'll be there soon." He hangs up before Phoenix has a chance to reply back. Sighing, he turns to you with a sad smile. "Looks like we'll have to cut cuddle time short. Dad's so sorry."

"They're the ones who held debt over my head. What if they want me back?" you question, dread making your chest tighten. "What if they want me dead? They're probably so angry at me.." Your lip trembles, remembering how cruel they were to you.

He pulls you into a firm hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Oh, kiddo... don't worry about that, alright? If those bastards so much as come near you, they will meet a very bloody fate," he growls, squeezing you even tighter. He buries his face in your hair. "Dad's gotcha. As long as you stay under my protection, they won't lay a finger on you. Hell will freeze over before I let anyone take you away from me."

You nod anxiously. "I trust you."

He kisses your forehead again before slowly pulling away and standing up from the couch. "I'm gonna put you in the safe room while I'm gone, alright?" He doesn't wait for your response, dragging you to the safe room.

Despite trying to seem calm, you can tell he's angry. Extremely angry. Vincent is gripping you tightly, but not hard enough to cause pain.

Once you're in the safe room, he makes sure it's fully locked up.

"I should be home before dinner," he assures you.

"Wait," you rasp. "What if something happens to you?"

Vincent places his hand on the side of your head, stroking his thumb over your cheek. His smile seems a lot warmer when you're the one receiving it.

"You really think I would leave you alone after all the trouble I've went through to have you with me?" he teases, letting out a quiet chuckle. "No worries, sweetie. I'm always gonna find a way to make it home. Even if I have to dig myself out of a shallow grave."

With one last kiss pressed into your forehead, Vincent turns around and walks away, leaving you locked inside the safe room.

...

Vincent arrives at the warehouse where the meeting is taking place, being escorted inside by Phoenix. Inside the main room, he sees the Scarlet Syndicate goons waiting for him and Vincent wastes no time getting to the point.

"What the fuck do you bastards want?" he spits.

Flint, the boss of Scarlet Syndicate, puffs his cigar. "You know exactly what I'm here to ask," he sneers. "Did you not bring the kid with you?"

"Kid? I don't know what you're talking about," Vincent replies nonchalantly, smiling menacingly. "But if I did, what is it to you?"

"Their debt is far from paid off, Bauer," Flint grumbles. "As long as they breathe, we own them. So I was thinking, either you give them to us, or you can pay off the debt yourself." He blows out some smoke. "For a millionaire such as yourself, it doesn't seem like it'd be an issue for you, especially seeing as you've gone soft over them. I've heard the rumors."

Vincent glares darkly at him. "First of all, you're gonna need more than your cronies to keep you protected when I lose my patience." He smiles threateningly. "And second of all, I think I've got a counter-proposal. How about I just shoot you in your face instead?"

In a flash, everyone pulls their weapons on each other.

"Enough!" Flint huffs. "I gave you an option to do it willingly. Now we have no choice but to use brute force."

Vincent is prepared to have bullets flying his way, but instead a smoke bomb is dropped at his feet.

As soon as Vincent realizes this, he covers his mouth and nose, eyes searching wildly to see the culprit, but to no avail. Then he notices Flint is gone along with his cronies.

Once the room clears, the Cryo members notice their boss is seething.

"Go find them!" he barks, scowling furiously. "I want every single one of those bastards dead by sunset." He notices Quinn on her phone. "Quinn! What the hell are you doing?!"

"Your place was broken into," she hisses back.

That gets Vincent's attention. The blood drains from his face as realization dawns on him. They just wanted to draw him out so they could get their hands on his baby.

Never in the past couple of years has he ever been so frantic, scrambling to his car and flooring it back home.

...

As soon as he makes it back to his penthouse, his worst fears are confirmed. There's signs of struggle in the hallway, as well as bloodstains on the carpet.

The safe room door has been busted open somehow. Vincent's stomach churns and he feels rage beginning to bubble up. Not only had someone dared to trespass on his property, they also had the audacity to steal you.

His kid. His everything.

He screams your name while searching for you, even though he already knows it's useless.

After tearing apart the penthouse and finding no trace of you, that's when his panic begins to set in.

"No, no, no..." he rasps, fingers tangling in his hair. He punches the wall and kicks down the nearby table in rage. Vincent stands there staring down at the mess he made.

He feels his chest constricting and tears beginning to flow. He grabs one of the fallen chairs and smashes it against the wall.

Then his phone rings.

Fumbling to grab it out of his pocket, he answers it, wiping his tears away in anger.

"What?!" he barks, voice cracking.

Instead of Phoenix, Quinn, or Trenton, he hears...

"Hello again, Vincent."

It's Flint.

Vincent feels like he's about to snap right then and there. He grips the phone so tight he almost breaks it. "What did you do?" he asks with grit teeth, fighting back the urge to sob. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, and he despises that.

But it hurts. You're gone again... It makes his heart ache knowing you're back in that organization's grasp, likely terrified.

Flint cackles. "I'm sure your kid wants to know the same thing. I told them how your greed was too strong to save them. So! I have a new set of options. Either you can come here and give me the money, or... well, I think you can imagine what'll happen next."

Vincent squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling. "Just tell me where you want me to bring the cash," he whispers, rubbing his hand over his face.

...

You try to ignore the cuts and bruises marring your skin. It's hard to, given your only distraction is the brick wall in front of you. You would cry, but after crying the whole ride here, you feel numb.

There's only fear and dread in you.

You're tied to a chair, arms bound behind your back and legs attached to the front legs of the chair, ankles secured to them.

They've taken you away from Vincent and brought you back here.

Back to the Scarlet Syndicate headquarters, which is really just some rundown warehouse.

Just when you're beginning to wonder if you had been abandoned to starve and die down in this dingy basement, the door opens.

To your surprise and relief, Vincent descends down the stairs with two suitcases.

"Dad!" you exclaim, hope blossoming.

He ignores your cry, approaching the table Flint sits at. With an angry scowl on his face, he sets both suitcases down, opening them up so the man can see.

You peer over as well, shocked to see that there's millions worth of dollars in each suitcase. Probably even more than the debt.

"There, I've met your demands," Vincent hisses. "Now let them go."

Flint cackles, standing up. "My, my. I'm surprised you actually showed up. Thought for sure I would be seeing them dead. Seeing as you don't hold much care for anyone besides yourself."

"Save the monologue," Vincent snaps. "And give them back before I put a bullet through your brain."

Flint nods, untying you from the chair.

Once you're untied, you rub your wrists, wincing at the soreness. Immediately, you rush over to Vincent, wrapping your arms around his midsection and hiding your face against his coat.

He holds you tight. "It's alright. Dad's here."

Flint pouts, taking another drag of his cigar. "So let's let bygones be bygones?"

Vincent forces a smile. "Sure thing." He rushes you out of the warehouse, keeping you cradled in his arms until you reach the car, which is farther away than you had anticipated. You're just grateful he has so much upper body strength. After buckling you in the backseat, he checks your pulse and presses kisses all over your face. "My poor baby," he whispers tearfully. "Did they hurt you bad?"

"My head hurts. And my entire body feels like its on fire."

Vincent pulls you into another firm hug before letting go. He wipes his eyes furiously. "Oh. That reminds me." He pulls out a walkie-talkie and holds it to his face. "Trent. Now."

You hear a loud explosion coming from somewhere nearby, looking out the window to see the warehouse in flames.

You jump a little.

Vincent chuckles weakly, placing his hand on your head. He reaches into the glove compartment and produces a juice box. You hadn't even noticed he carried them around in his vehicles.

He pushes the straw through the tiny hole and hands it to you.

"I think some ice cream is in order once we get back home," he whispers, leaning forward and pressing another kiss onto your forehead.

"But didn't you give them money?" you question, furrowing your brows in confusion as you take small sips of the juice. "You just blew up a bunch of it..."

He laughs. "Don't you worry about that. It wasn't real money," he snickers, patting your head one last time. "But you don't need to think about any of that adult stuff anymore." His smile falters for a split second, examining your injuries once again. "I'll also need to call a doctor once we're home. And then maybe put you in a tower like Rapunzel."

You manage a small laugh. "You're silly."

His smile returns as he shuts the door and settles himself into the driver's seat. "Don't tell anyone else, you're the only one who knows that." He grins at you through the rearview mirror.

Never did you think you'd be okay driving away with your captor from a burning building with possible casualties inside, but... after what you've been through, it's kind of difficult to care anymore.

[yugsly]

How does one get a job in the creative industry when entry-level positions do not exist there and you need to have a mile-long resume that makes Don Bluth and Richard Williams look like Chris-chan to even be CONSIDERED for a position? Animation, filmmaking, and game development are all multi-person jobs and all the resources for them are exclusive to California or foreign countries we can't afford to move to. Most artists can't afford to run their own business all by themselves or fill every single role of the production pipeline. Why are connections and experience required to join the industry when the only way to gain those things is through said industry and expensive colleges that drown you in unpayable debt for the rest of your life?

Are you talking exclusively about the animation industry? Yeah. It's pretty screwed up right now. Not even esteemed showrunners like Maxwell Atoms [Billy & Mandy] (who recently had to sell his house and decades worth of his show's memorabilia to make ends meet) and freaking CRAIG MCCRACKEN [Powerpuff Girls, Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends, Wander Over Yonder etc] can get jobs off the ground without it being like, a reboot or anything. Seriously. It's not you. It's not your talent, your social skills, etc- right now, it's just the industry being in a rough place. So many wonderful artists with decorated successful careers are getting NOTHING right now. I know it sucks, but really you can only stay vigilant and wait right now. Build your skills. Build your network. You can do this without college. Having done college, I know this- it is more about self discipline and research, I think. Having the structure of school is good, but you can really sort of forge your own path when it comes down to it. Make friends with artists you like, be normal, be cordial- don't do it just for connections' sake, but for comraderies' sake. Y'know? Make plans, make your own schedules... it's tough, but doable. I've never been ""employed"" fully before.

I might *look* "successful" on the surface because I've made a lot of things, be it with friends, or by myself- but really the "success" is just the visible joy and community these projects have made. It is beautiful to see how much my friends and I have inspired you all. I love it, treasure it. In terms of financial success... not so much, sorry to say. Sometimes I wonder how much longer I'll be able to pay for things- I have a lot of terrible medical conditions lately, and slightly outclass qualifying for medicaid, so... not sure what will happen. I need to get an organ fully removed soon. So. Haha. ???????? Sorry that was a bit of a tangent. Things are rough right now for everyone, and I am sorry this is not the most hopeful message. It is better to be truthful, I think. Don't give up though, prepare yourself, your skills, there will be a day when the animation industry is in a place where it will be ready for you.

[freakaszoyd]

Missin' You Already

Synopsis: You're finally getting the time to spend with your girls after you all planned a long-awaited trip away for the weekend. But how will ony take being away from you?

pairings: semi-clingy!ony x black reader

warnings: nsfw, more suggestive, use of the n word, not proofread fr (lemme know if I missed something)

"Onyyy!!" you whine, irritated, while pacing around the room. where the fuck did you put it? You JUST had it no way it could be gone just like that.

"hm?" he says more interested in the game than you. this just makes you more irritated. You have somewhere to be in not even 30 minutes.

You and your girls have been planning to go on a weekend getaway after you all agreed to the stress of jobs and life. This was the one time you could see all your girls in one place and relax all at the same time.

"Ony did you see my phone? imma be late!" you say flipping the sofa cushions up and down.

"Nah ma, i ain' seen it. did you check the dresser?" ony asks nonchalantly while still keeping his focus on the games screen not even sparing a glance. Of course you checked the dresser, that was the first if not second most obvious place to check.

You let out a sigh knowing he'd be no help in your search. You end up finding it in the bathroom on the sink. "how'd it get here?" you think, but you have no time to fully process it and give ony a quick, "I found it." before rushing back to the bedroom to gather the rest of your things.

Rolling your suitcase out to the living room you ask "Baby can you take me over to shy's place? I don't wanna be late." he looks over at you while removing one side of his headphones. "Yea ma don't worry bout it. I'll take you over there... just after this match" placing his headphones back on and refocusing on the game.

He cannot be serious. You've told him about this trip for weeks and now he's making you late.

"Baby please! everyone's probably already over there and im gonna be the only one that's not!" you pout in hopes of him immediately taking you to your destination.

"cmonn mama. just sit on my lap here" he pauses the game and pats his thigh and you hypnotically make your way over and place your self on him. He was dressed in his signature black sweats and his black compression shirt. Dont know what it is but it gets you everytime. "you're gonna be gone all weekend just give me 5 more minutes witchu baby. I know you're gonna miss me too" he gives you a peck on the cheek. you sigh and say,

"but I don't wanna be late" you whine hoping he'll just get up and take you.

He gives you this confused look while saying "but baby you're always late. it don't make a difference now." you look at him shocked. "fashionably late" he's quick to save himself.

"I know that's right, don't try to play me" you both laugh at each others antics. "but for real let's go, you know how long this has been planned I wanna go like now ony." you tell him as you start to get up but he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you on him.

"but maybe I don't want you to go mama." he teases. damn he's too cute. how can he switch up so fast? what happened to 5 more minutes?

"ony" you say his name in seriousness. nows not the time for this you gotta go he promised to take you.

"I'm serious mama, I don't want you to go" his tone is whiney but alluring all at the same time. he leans up to kiss you pouty glossed lips. it'd almost be sensual if it wasn't for how quick it ended. "you don't love me no more so you tryna go away wit yo friends for the whole weekend?" he says smirking. he knows what he's doing. "I know what yall doin there anyway, bouta be flirtin wit other niggas n shit tss" he shakes his head and pushing you off jokingly. "I guess I can take you."

You smile "Baby I'm not. you know you my only one" you bring your finger to brush his nose, a little habit you developed to show your affection towards him, and kissed it right after.

"yea I believe you ma" he chuckles. You stand up out of his lap and start to gather your things again to get ready to leave.

"wait baby, shit. why you in such a rush? s'not like they gonna leave you here. damn" hes gripping his arms around you harder to keep you in place but now he's kissing up on your neck. you know he's trying to be slick and get you to stay. "how can I let my pretty baby go when she looks this good hm?" he breaths into your neck and keeps kissing on it.

you let out a soft moan and started to lean into his affection forgetting all about your plans. he starts to tease you, kissing you everywhere but your lips. he knows exactly how to get to you.

"cmon mama, just let me say goodbye to her." rubbing on your clothed pussy. ony whispers in your ear, "just a quickie I promise." you're hesitant. you know it's never a quick fuck with him. he loves to make you feel good inside and out. so there's no way he'll ever leave you dissatisfied. which is why you say:

"Fine." with a playful smirk on you lips.

Because what would he do without you?

[pseudowho]

The Silent Stars Go By

On the night of October 31st, Nanami Kento feels his death approaching. Knowing you are on the battlefield with him, and knowing he cannot die without showing you how he feels, he seeks you out...and subverts destiny.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, "last night on Earth" smut, truly desperate, frantic, semi-public, Shibuya ending rewrite

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami Kento knew he was to die, on October 31st.

He was no arithmancer. A pragmatist at heart with a mathematical streak, he had, however, carried his barely living friend to safety, found the bodies of many others, punched a young man to death, and lived to tell the tale. The numbers divined great danger ahead, and, by the time a pink-feathered songbird had sung the perish song of Satoru Gojo, Kento could not deny the maths.

Kento could suddenly see no distant future for himself, as he once could. And yet between then, and now, there was one stark similarity; what future Nanami Kento did see, contained only you.

Behind his eyes flashed a montage of memory-- of midnight laughter-filled dinners at the Konbi. Of shielding you in battle, and you shielding him in return. Of you sitting on his lap, stitching his wounds with utmost care, before your reverse-cursed technique had fully developed. Of falling in love with you, and denying himself joy for believing he may give you none.

Being around you was agony. Being away from you was worse.

"I'll be heading underground," he had intoned to Nitta and Nobara, taking in their girlish features for the last time with a stab through his belly, "after I catch up with someone. Stay safe. Don't sacrifice yourself."

He was a hypocrite. He knew this. He would walk to the gallows, proud, if only he could take you in his arms and cry his love for you, first.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Looking out over the city, having heard Yuuji's cries for 'Nanamin' only a few minutes earlier, you did not know you were being desperately searched for by Kento. You had determined yourself to find and follow Yuuji, the boy without protection.

The night breeze whipped at you, unhindered by walls and trees, on the roof of one of Shibuya's tallest buildings. Turning to leave, you felt a familiar warmth approaching. The man you loved opened the stairwell door, squeaking on its pivot.

Missing his suit jacket and tie, with his sleeves rolled up, he thrummed with raw, uncontained power. Something feverish stormed within his eyes as he looked to you. His steps were slow, and considered. The quiet calm of his voice was deliberate, soft.

"Kento, what...what are you doing here? Is that blood? Oh god, you're bleeding-- let me heal you--"

"Stop. It isn't mine. Just listen for a moment."

"Isn't yours? Then one of the others? We should get them to Shoko--"

"--I need you to listen, now--"

"--we haven't got any time--"

"I love you." The air fell still; a puff of blossom in suspended animation. You had not realised you were holding your breath until Kento's steps caught up to you, and his hands grasped yours. A melancholic certainty rolled off him. Flicks of blond fell over his forehead, that fervour still gripping him; gripping you.

"I love you. You are the purest truth I know. The warmest light. Anything I am, and anything I could have been, is at your mercy, and always has been."

The gut-churning adrenaline you had felt for the fever-pitch of battle was suppressible, before Kento's impassioned promise. That dam broke inside you, and the terror and adoration and injustice heaved out of you in one great sob. You needed his body flush to yours. Public decency took a back seat. So many years of restraint and doubt slid away.

You looped your arms around Kento's neck, one hand grasping his shoulders, and the other sinking into the back of his hair. Kento almost broke, himself, but couldn't; not yet. He had to show you. Needed to show you.

You felt him pull your head away from his shoulder, and you resisted, until his fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head. You were nose to nose. You could feel his heart booming in his chest, fresh from a fight you had not witnessed.

"If this is my last chance," Kento whispered, his nose stroking yours, "will you let me take it?"

"...what...what do you know...that I don't? Kento--"

"Please." Kento growled, his teeth gritted. You felt the twitching contractions of his belly, his hardening cock pressing against you. You couldn't resist his need to control this, and take what he needed, even if you wanted to. Your breaths ached in your chest. Silent, glossy-eyed, you nodded.

Kento broke, possessing your lips in one shuddering kiss. His hands and body squeezed at your softly yielding hips, all-consuming, trying to overfill himself with any scrap of you he could take. He dominated the kiss completely, selflessly, as thoughtlessly altruistic as he had always been. He groaned, panting through the taste of you, his tongue sliding against yours. His cock wept inside his boxers-- it was all too much too much but not enough--

You mewled, little hands gripping onto his collar, sending thunder to Kento's core. Kento pulled away, cursing, feeling the need to know the scars that pleasure etched upon your skin. You were scorched by his touch, too pliable now to do anything but bend to his insistence.

In blood and brutality you sought each other, beacons in the night with stars as your witness. They looked on, disinterested, as if fate held any regard for the lives of mortals, over gods.

With time as his final remaining enemy, Kento pulled you to his lap, sitting with his back against the low wall overlooking the city. He knew for whom the bell tolled. He would see his duty done before the final chime, and he stared into you in your entirety. Though neither a painting nor an ivory box, he handled you with kid gloves.

You straddled his lap, unbuttoning his shirt, and he whispered, groaning and bucking up against your clothed sex as he watched your nimble fingers press his opened shirt apart. Running your hands in reverence down his bared chest and belly, he could not have loved you more than when he saw his own desperation reflected back at him.

In another life-- in any other world-- I--

He lifted you, enough for you to kick your jeans and underwear off, his teeth bared to feel your core press against his aching cock. He spoke through your kisses, a fractured sentence punctuated by his apologies.

"I didn't-- didn't prepare-- no protection-- I can't-- can't stop-- please don't make me stop." He begged, reaching down to hook his cock out. You silenced him with one hand wrapped around his rigid length, and Kento stilled with a hiss.

--take you to dinner first, I'd show you the world-- fill you with its beauty before I fill you with mine--

"Don't care--" You insisted against his neck, "--don't care...need to feel you." Kento almost sobbed with relief to feel you hold him, stroking the head of his cock between your glistening folds. You let his cockhead and slit catch over your clit, shivering, intoxicated by the way he watched you with one hand splayed across your belly, the other on your hip, and blown pupils. He bucked his hips, needy, full of baleful possession.

--and we'd have a Victorian glasshouse with a garden you'd love-- and you'd plant wildflowers while I do the laundry--

Grasping your hips with a snarl as you stroked his cockhead down, Kento impaled you downwards onto him, the moment his cock notched at your entrance. You squeaked, pussy clenching with the sudden blissful invasion, your squirming making you sink lower. Kento felt a telltale throb of impending orgasm in his belly, and he was certain if you clenched one more time--

Your pussy full to the brim, you instinctively bucked downwards. Feeling Kento belly-deep, his trembling fingers dropped to your clit, and you felt Kento's abs twitching beneath your splayed hands. Feeling two clever fingers bracketing your clit and rolling from side to side, you squeezed him, milking his cock and locking him inside you.

--all the late nights and early mornings and train rides and arguments in sickness and health for richer for poorer--

"--love you-- I love you too." You sobbed into his chest, loose and warm against him. Kento saw stars, coming with a shout, thick ropes of cum spurting into you. Looking up at the euphoric agony on his face, and his fingertips bruising your ass as they pinned you down around him, satisfied you spiritually, in a way so alien to you.

You rolled your hips, drinking down every part of him. The long, powerful contractions of his cock inside you, his stilted low moans, his gasps of pleasure as your tight gloved heat continued to stroke him. Starved for him, desperate for more, you rode Kento to frantic overstimulation.

--so unfair this is so unfair, die for you like you'd die for me like I'd die for you like you'd die for me--

You realised with a happy squirm that he hadn't yet removed his glasses or harness. With his shirt trapped against his shoulders, and his lens steamed, fucking upwards and thrashing his head from side to side beneath you, you couldn't stop yourself. You felt the fullness of his creamy load still plugged deeply inside you, and pushed hard against him. Kento cursed, paralyzing you with a hushed roar of agony, and a hand grasping your throat.

"--asked you to make love to me-- not kill me-- but shit, if this is how we go, just take me with you-- take me with you--"

His fingers had never left your clit, now rolling it insistently, until you were the one wriggling and desperate. Still being stuffed with his cock and cum made your pleasure three-dimensional, and Kento's half-hard length began to stir to life again, still high off the adrenaline of punching a man to death. He growled at you with gritted teeth.

"--beautiful...good girl...not done with you yet...shit, keep it in, keep it all in...take me with you...please--"

With half lidded eyes, you grasped Kento's forearm. His hand still braced you with exquisite tenderness around the throat, a necklace instead of a noose. His second hand worked frantically against your clit while you moaned and begged above him, still speared on his cock, feeling him lengthen and thicken again inside you. You whimpered and keened, and Kento committed you to memory, just like this. He would close his eyes in his final moment, and see you, breaking like spun sugar above him, no sweeter sound than his name on your lips.

--bake for you on Sundays, and the bread would always burn, because we'll be too busy--

Kento continued stroking you, pressing kisses onto your forehead as he guided you down from your high. Cautiously starting to roll his hips up again, he moaned at the slick sucks of his cock sliding through his cum and yours. Unthreading his shirt through his harness, Kento threw it to the ground, before lying you down on top of it.

Otherwise fully dressed, with dried stains of blood rusted over his chest and back, Kento bore over you like a vengeful god. Here to take his spoils, he still handled you like glass, resting your head on one of his planted forearms, with a hand under the small of your back to protect you from the floor.

"...I've wanted you for so long-- you don't even know--"

"I knew." Kento faltered. His anguish at leaving you for certain death sharpened, with the sudden knowledge of past chances untaken. His heart clenched, aching down his arms, steeling himself. He couldn't help but lean into your hand, cupping his jaw.

Nuzzling his nose to yours, Kento melted at your smile twinkling up at him. He smiled back, suddenly bashful, lopsided with crinkling eyes, before biting down on one lip and slamming his cock down into you. Your gasp shook through you, clawing into the harness across his chest and shoulders, hearing Kento swear with pleasure at the intensity of a second round.

Kento barely pulled out, wrapped in your arms and tight cunt. He almost spat with anger at the simultaneous need to savour you, and the need to leave, knowing he could not have both. Duty to you held the greater weight and, feeling another orgasm creep through his back and balls far too quickly, he slowed.

Completely engulfed by the enormity of him, you stared up at Kento, made submissive under his emotional insistence, the thick aching stretch of him sheathed inside you. Your back arched off the ground with a guttural moan when Kento slowed, dragging himself through your core from ball to tip in long, languid thrusts, the whole length of his cock glistening with gluey white seed.

He swore he could feel every ridge of you, the mind-altering bend of his cock as it moulded to the curve inside you. He needed you to carry the shape of him forever, an unremovable flesh-memory. Something had changed in him as you carded your fingers through his hair, whispering praises to him, to try to hold him together.

Kento looked drunk. His eyes were distant and hyperfocused all at once, his breaths and groans gruff, his voice gravelly with emotion as his mouth muffled against your shirt.

"--sorry, I...can't move my hands...hurt you, I--" Kento grasped your shirt between his teeth, ragging his head from side to side with a growl to lift it up over your breasts. He did the same to your bra, gripping the cups to yank your breasts free. They bounced out, full and peaked under his hot, frantic breaths.

Kento nosed at them, pulling his cock from you slowly, only to slam back into you with enough force to leave you writhing and whimpering. His mouth and nose played with your breasts, nudging, sucking and biting, hungry and obsessive. Something primal glimmered in his green glass-concealed eyes, as your mounds jiggled every time he fucked into you. The visual stimulus of you spread beneath him, your tight pussy slick with his cum, doe-eyed and completely willing, sent him spiralling towards his high.

"God I wish I--wish I could stay-- more than anything...cum with me, please please please--"

His thrusts became frantic, rough and sloppy with no warning. Kento's eyes darted from your face, to your breasts and pussy, and back again, drinking in the shock and ecstasy plastered over your face. You were trapped within the humid embrace of him, erotically overstimulated by his smell, his desperation, the constant stroke of his weeping cockhead against your spongy soft spot.

You didn't realise how close you were to orgasm until his position shifted, his trimmed honey-gold trail now rubbing against your clit. Clinging onto him, and rubbing upwards to meet his thrusts, you begged for Kento to help you. Your begging was Kento's last straw, and he gasped, his seed slugging out in lazy, creamy trickles against your overstuffed cervix and pussy.

Barely able to see straight, Kento kept rubbing his rigid pelvis against you, gruff and messy while you felt the drag of pleasure through you, softer than bare feet through hot sand. Kento whispered to you, sweat mingling on your foreheads pressed together; "...don't regret a thing...won't regret a minute-- wish this was different...deserve more..."

Panting in each others embrace, the dreadful horror of reality seeped back into you both. You could hear cries in the distance, the rumble of battles. You fought an unwinnable fight. Silent, and pensive, you jolted out of your reverie to hear Kento groan above you, reluctantly pulling his softening cock free. He knelt, dewy-eyed, watching the gluey drip of his cum from you, moaning and shivering as he held his half-hard cock, nudging the cum back inside with his tip.

The sudden emptiness almost made you weep. You felt the same terrible foreboding emanating from him as you had when he arrived on the rooftop. Kento smiled down at you, heartfelt and reassuring, pressing a folded pocket handkerchief to you before pulling your underwear back on over it. He kissed you delicately, from toe to knee while you giggled, before planting one lazy kiss and nuzzle onto your belly. You grasped his head there, scratching gently at his scalp with your fingernails.

"Stay with me, Kento. Just stay." You pressed, knowing in your gut that his decision was already made. His sigh creaked the leather of his harness with broad, corded tugs of his shoulders.

"They need help, underground. I'm one of the few First Grades available. It's only right that I go down there."

Kento's words, as always, rang with decisive finality. Before you could begin to talk again, he interrupted you smoothly.

"You will not come with me."

"You can't stop me."

"Shoko needs you. Your reverse cursed technique is second only to hers, and she's in need of support. It's the proper thing to do."

You squirmed with guilt, knowing you would choose to let Shoko suffer over Kento. Kento glowered down at you, stern, as if he hadn't just fallen apart inside you. You swallowed, a coil of doubt inside your belly.

"...don't be a hero, Kento." Kento frowned as if he didn't understand, and you insisted. "Don't be a hero. Get yourself out first. I mean it." Kento hesitated, looking out over the city lights, the breeze ruffling his mussed hair. He pulled his shirt back on, threading it under his harness.

"...alright." He lied. He paused. You both stood, sticky with each others' cum cooling between your legs. Nuzzling nose to nose, it felt so surreal to have to toss aside post-coital softness, in exchange for the cold embrace of battle.

"Go to Shoko," Kento whispered against your lips, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "and help her. Please. Do as I say."

"Promise you'll come back to me." You hushed into his kiss, beseeching him. He softened, deceptively reassuring, while hearing his clocktower chime.

"Always. I'm all yours. Always." Planting one lingering kiss to your forehead, you watched Kento's retreating back, his figure disappearing down the stairwell.

You wondered if you'd ever trust anyone other than Kento, over your own instincts.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Shoko was surprised to see you, her cigarette drooping as she raised her thick, dark eyebrows.

"Kento told me you wanted me." You insisted. Shoko shot Yaga one questioning look. Yaga shrugged, arms folded.

"We haven't spoken to Kento all evening." Shoko assured. You felt a flash of panicked rage in your gut, knowing he'd lied to you. Knowing he was taking himself to an unwinnable battle. You grabbed Shoko by the arm.

"Where are they? His team? Where is he?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento was bloodied, missing an arm of his shirt, his vision obscured by the incessant bleed of a head wound. Pushing out of Dagon's domain, he knew he was exhausted, already skirting his limit. He felt a monstrous wave of Cursed energy, so much deadlier than his own.

A volcano-headed Curse approached him, its hand outstretched and hovering over Kento's abdomen. Naobito and Maki already smouldered in agony, and Kento felt the sickening weight of failure in his chest He had only a moment to protect himself, and he may have coated his body in Cursed-energy in its entirety, had he not filled his death-sentenced mind with thoughts of you.

He expected fire and flames...and felt you. When he protected his right half, you had arrived at the edge of a knife blade, and protected his left. The volcano-headed Curse faltered, stepping back with a scowl.

Kento looked down at you, knelt at his side in a braced position. His clock stopped chiming, in a moment of twisted fates reserved previously for the gods alone. He considered that you were, perhaps, a goddess, and he may be your vassal. You looked up at him, bristling with rage, and Kento's heart swelled.

"I'll tell you off later. For now...we have a fight to finish."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

By the end of the night, Itadori Yuuji had gained a brother and retained a beloved father figure. Nanami Kento cast his eyes over Choso with a hum of resignation, considering he may have another boy to look after, too. The patch-faced curse who may have been his executioner in another life, met its end. He witnessed an old friend who was not an old friend, cast a battle royale over the length of Japan.

Gazing in mute horror over the devastation left behind, Kento felt a hand slip into his own. His ears flushed red. He cleared his throat.

"I'm-- I'm so sorry--"

You laughed, your hands over your face. Kento's eyes glimmered with mirth. He plaited his fingers in yours, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, mumbling against them.

"My hero."

[campbell-rose]

Ok ok i'm a liar oops. Saw the Millie short (I have thoughts) and the season 2 trailer and i had to do my poor sweet underdeveloped bird girls justice.

Octavia is virtually the same personality wise, except she has hobbies that Stolas is completely unaware of but Stella supports fully. Specifically taxidermy, which Stella finds fascinating. I don't vibe with the design after staring at it for a while, but this was just a doodle and potential colors, i'll have to draw Stolas and then figure out her colors.

In demon lore, Andrealphus teaches lots of things, but he is said to teach astronomy, so i decided Stella (as her name would suggest) is very knowledgable on the subject and star gazes. I gave her a galaxy esc dress similar to Stolas's s1 ep7 outfit and changed her colors a bit.

They have a good mother/daughter bond in this because if Viv can't write a good mother figure then I'll do it myself dammit.

Stella is basically now all the fan theories before she was boiled down into a shitty one dimensional abuser to make the uwu gay bird sympathetic with a bit of my input.

She is the younger sister of Andrealphus, who married her to Stolas as a way of moving up in the world - as Stolas is a Prince and Andrealphus is a rank below him as a Marquis. Stella initially was distraught but tried to be good. She tried to find common ground, seeing as both her and Stolas liked stars, but they never clicked fully. When Octavia was born, Stella shifted her attention to her and started being passive aggressive to Stolas, letting her years of anger out on him in little jabs. Things along the line of her throwing a not divorced party but she doesn't loudly insult him in front of her guests.

When Stolas cheats on her with an imp, she's fucking furious. She's given up her entire life to this man, to bring her family name higher and her husband cheats on her with an IMP. The lowest of the lower class, and now her gossipy high society friends she's spent years getting into the good graces of will know. So she's a mix of fucking furious and just a tinge hurt. She's not justified btw, i just want to show her side of things for once because Viv is allergic to developing female characters.

She adores Octavia in my version. Utterly adores her. So of course she takes Octavia and tries to keep her away from Stolas as much as possible. She loves her daughter and wants to raise her better than she was raised.

That's all I might do a Sallie May and Millie redesign again who knows