#Okay sorry a whole tangent

[idontmindifuforgetme]

What is your attachment style & what do you think is the best complimentary style for you?

I have the worst one of them all imo, which is anxious avoidant 🥲 basically a blend of anxious and avoidant tendencies (tho I lean more avoidant). The reason I think it sucks the most is bc these attachment styles are working against each other constantly, so you want closeness w people but you’re also really claustrophobic about it. You’re polarized in both directions & it manifests in inconsistent behavior towards others.

I hate self-help books w a passion, but I did actually read a whole book on attachment styles a couple years ago, back when I thought I didn’t need therapy and could just resolve it all by myself (did not happen lmao). It was written by someone w a PsyD, so I think it was relatively more credible than if it had been written by some fraudulent self-book guru. I also verified w my therapist later that the theory wasn’t just pop psych drivel. It was pretty helpful tbh, but it’s been around for a while so it would be cool if it got supplanted w a theory that relies on more modern research

And I think any attachment style is most complementary w a securely attached person, but obviously most people aren’t just 100% secure—so maybe someone who’s just closer to secure attachment than you are?? Which I unfortunately don’t even adhere to, bc I find myself gravitating to avoidant people more often than not <3 we’re a work in progress it’s fine

[seeminglyseph]

"Arrests require cause."

Bitch *you* let her instigate martial law! Through your power! What did you think that meant?!

That's literally the purpose of putting martial law in place. To be able to let the government do whatever police and military shit to its people without cause. It removes the rights of the civilians because it views those civilians as the enemy of The People.

You let hating Jinx make you forget what words mean, Caitlyn. I get it, grief does terrible things to a person, and Ambessa is a very compelling public speaker, but like. She said out loud: "Let's do Martial Law."

[backseatloversz]

Trying to watch panic at the disco behind the scenes but so fucking much of it is zack hall and aside from the fact he is legitimately terrible on his own and also just comes across as really annoying he reminds me of the dad of this one childhood friend of mine who i inexplicably hated and was terrified of for like my entire childhood and i dont know why but i am still uncomfortable around him. so. Thats really awesome& cool

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[mariasont]

Sending another thought that I can’t think of a way to elaborate on to your magnificent mind

Aaron Hotchner with his assistant who’s rambling (like every other day) about random stuff and she’s just like “I want kids someday” and Hotch is like “oh yea?” And she’s like “yea! And if I ever have kids I hope they’re just like Jack, he’s such a little angel” blah blah blah and poor Hotch is screaming in his mind like YOU COULD HAVE JACK??? BE HIS STEPMOM????

Sorry I’m absolutely feral for them ily bye

BUSINESS OF MAKING BABIES - A.H

a/n: i took this in a slightlyyyy different direction but ugh same im so feral for these two!!!! thank you for your most amazing request! i <3 you!

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: references to baby making!!!!!!

wc: 0.6k

Aaron needed to get work done, but his focus was more trained on the delicate patch of skin that connected your shoulder to your neck, smooth and glowing like you'd just stepped out of the sun. You smelled delectably good, which was sending his neurons into overdrive. You were saying something, formulating and articulating thoughts from that perfect brain and through your also perfect mouth. 

He was concentrated on making sure you knew he was listening, nodding and humming every so often as you continued on your tangent, hands waving dramatically through the air, heels clanking on the floor in his office as you paced the room. His gaze moved to your thighs, only for a second, he was a gentleman after all. 

"And she's just, you know, popping them out left and right, and I'm over here like, Hello? Can I get a turn? I'm not asking for much, just a sweet guy who's willing to, you know, help me out with the whole baby-making thing."

You stopped dead in front of his desk, placing your hands atop the wood as you let out a melodramatic sigh. This caught his attention, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

"You want kids?" The words left his mouth before he could filter them. "Isn't that a bit premature at your age?"

"Okay, Grandpa," you giggled, plopping yourself down in the chair before him. "And, of course, I want babies. They'd be the cutest, hopefully just like Jack. He's the sweetest, isn't he?"

Hotch felt his heart plummet to his stomach, jaw clenching and unclenching as he rubbed his thumb along the rough edges of his chin. "Yeah, he's pretty great."

You sighed again, a common occurrence in this conversation, as you stood up and moved around the desk before plopping yourself down on it. Your calve grazed accidentally against his thigh. You absentmindedly adjusted a wrist full of charm bracelets, creating a gentle jingling sound that should've annoyed him, but it did anything but.

"Honestly, though, who even needs a boyfriend these days? I could totally just take the whole donor route for the baby thing. Easy-peasy!"

Hotch's response came after a brief, flustered pause, during which he seemed to search for the right words. Clearing his throat, he managed to look anywhere but at you as he carefully said, "Ah, yes, I suppose you could... do that."

In an effort to regain some semblance of control over the situation, Hotch took a deliberate sip of the somewhat stale coffee sitting on his desk. However, before he could swallow, you bounded off the desk, eyes wide with sudden realization.

"You know what? You would be a great donor."

The coffee in Hotch's mouth nearly made a swift exit as he choked, trying to comprehend what you had just said.

Hotch opened his mouth, attempting to form a coherent response, but before he could broker a single word, you had both hands on his shoulders.

Your eyes were sparkling as you took in his face. "Yeah, like, you have great hair--totally not receding--perfect eyes, great skin..."

Your rapid-fire compliments left him momentarily speechless, a rare flush making its way to his cheeks.

"Well, I--" Hotch began, but your excitement had already taken the reins before he could even navigate through his thoughts.

"I can totally see it; we'd have such cute kids!" you gushed, practically dancing towards the door as if your dreams were almost tangible in the air.

Hotch watched you leave, stuck in his chair, dumbfounded and momentarily lost for words. A bemused smile formed on his lips as he realized he didn't hate the idea at all.

No sooner had the door closed behind you than Morgan appeared, looking thoroughly baffled. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking between Hotch and the door you had just exited through.

"Since when are you and Miss Pretty in Pink in the business of making babies together?"

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @messylxve @alexxavicry @yaykeira @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantwitchgarden @kodzukenmaaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spenciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @deadofnight0 @sabmichell @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001

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[ellecdc]

okay then consider this a request!! for poly!marauders or just remus/james/sirius, whatever you prefer, for a reader with excruciating period cramps (self-indulgent because mine are horrible, but whatever!!) if you could do it that would be awesome ily!

ok I'm sorry I really made this very much self indulgent in maybe the worst way ever lol. I've been having a lot of fun with chef!Sirius lately, and had briefly discussed this idea with @maladaptiveescapism a while back so it felt fitting. I've also gotten a lot of period fic requests before and have never been all that interested in them which is so strange seeing as I'm a person who experiences period's and they're really popular? WOW sorry, what a tangent. TL;DR, thanks for your request, sorry if I ruined it a little, I probably won't ever write a period fic again lol

chef!sirius x mixologist!reader who calls in sick to work because of her period [2.9k words]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

CW: period fic, reader has PCOS, brief allusion to Sirius' shitty childhood, trans!Reggie agenda 'cause I can, Sirius worried reader won't be accepting of his trans brother (spoiler alert, we are because we love our trans homies), Sirius being the worst (positive & affectionate)

Sirius was on his best behaviour today.

Honest to god, hand to his heart, best behaviour.

But there was truly only so much one bloke could do when they had a Jeffery to deal with.

“I’m going to need one of your staff for the evening.” Jeffery said without preamble; standing half-in the kitchen with the swinging door to the floor propped open as if he wanted to ensure there were witnesses to this conversation should it go sideways.

“Jeffery, do you wake up every morning and smoke a bunch of crack before you come to work, or are you really just this dense?” Sirius spat as he dropped his pan in front of him and fought the urge to turn and give the floor manager a withering glare. 

Jeffery, well seasoned to Sirius’ theatrics, bit back an eye roll as he carried on. “We need someone to cover the bar.”

Sirius did turn at that, but his withering glare fell somewhere between aghast and bemused. “The bar?”

“The bar.”

“Why?”

“I need coverage for Y/N.” Jeffery explained with a sigh, clearly growing tired of Sirius’ line of questioning.

“Where is she?”

“She has called in sick, chef.”

“Sick with what?” Sirius continued, causing Jeffery’s brows to furrow as he stared at Sirius bemusedly. 

“I’m not exactly privy to those details, chef.” He explained slowly as if Sirius were some fussy toddler. 

“I just find it hard to believe that the same woman who left the hospital after getting her shoulder reset to come work a full eight hour shift would call in sick.”

Jeffery offered him a shoulder shrug (and a concerned look up and down that Sirius pretended he didn’t notice) before pilfering one of the kitchen staff for the evening. 

Sirius would worry about hating Jeffery later; he was more focused on figuring out what the hell was wrong with you and why you weren’t coming to see him to work. 

Sirius had his phone wedged between the side of his face and his shoulder whilst he juggled the many go-bags he had in his hands as he stood awkwardly outside of the door to your flat.

He admittedly knew where you lived only because he had driven you home after numerous closing shifts.

Fortunately, the intercom system in the anteroom of your building gave away your unit number.

Unfortunately, Sirius still had his hands full with the various go-bags.

Fortunately, an elderly lady was coming in at the same time and let Sirius into the building. 

Unfortunately, she insisted on chatting his ear off the whole lift ride up and actually held the door open to continue conversing even after they had arrived at her floor.

Sirius’ saving grace came in the form of the lift alarm buzzing for having kept the door ajar too long, and she was forced to bid him farewell. 

Which brought him here; standing outside of your flat like some kind of stalker as he waited for you to pick up your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, open your door.”

“Well hello to you too, chef.” You snarked at him again. 

“Yes, yes. I said hey, didn’t I? Open your door.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m standing on the other side of it.” 

There was the sound of a quick exhale and rummaging. “Why?”

“Listen, I’d love to play 20 questions, but do you think you could let me in first?”

You muttered something that sounded an awful lot like a swear before the line ended.

He allowed his phone to slip out of its place and into his awaiting hand when you flung the door open unceremoniously.

Now, Sirius could tell you’d not been expecting any company today; you were in the same clothes you’d likely slept in, your hair was perfectly rumpled from whatever position Sirius had just disturbed you from, and you looked more than a tad embarrassed to see him standing here.

He had sort of hoped you would look like a troll; make this raging flame he carried for you burn a little softer.

But no.

You just had to look ethereal and perfect and lovely and kissable.

Damn woman. 

“What are you doing here?” You finally asked, interrupting the both of you from staring at one another. 

“Helping?”

You made a breathy W sound - as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” but the words died on your lips as you took in Sirius’ many bags. 

“What did you bring?”

“I’ll show you everything if you just let me in.” He muttered as he motioned towards one of your nosey neighbours who had shoved her head out of her door when she first heard Sirius in the hall.

You peered around your doorframe and narrowed your eyes at her before allowing Sirius entry. 

“Finally.” Sirius teased as he moved to place his bags on your kitchen island. 

Sirius had never seen the inside of your flat, but if he had simply stumbled into your space by accident he would have known it was yours immediately. 

There was something so intrinsically you about your space that Sirius immediately felt at home too, even just for having stepped inside. 

“Sorry.” You chuckled somewhat awkwardly; bringing one of your hands to the back of your neck as you considered Sirius and all of his bags. “We’d just been watching some shows.”

Sirius immediately felt his heart fall out of his arse.

We? 

Had he read this completely wrong? Were you seeing someone? Was your home not simply yours, but one that you shared?

He found himself suddenly feeling quite defensive over your flat; it was too lovely, too wonderful, too comfortable for simply just anyone to enjoy.

“We?” He asked suddenly; tone taking on a bit of an edge he didn’t intend or consent to.

You cocked an eyebrow at him and pointed behind you with your thumb; Sirius followed your gesture to a little tabby cat perched on the back of your sofa, tilting its head at the two of you as if it, too, was confused by Sirius’ sudden intonation. 

“You were watching shows with your cat?” He clarified; his voice now breathy in relief. 

“Birdie loves shows.” You countered defensively. 

“You named a cat bird?”

“No.” You argued. “I named my kitten Birdie. Do you not like cats?” You asked then, a teasing smirk growing on your face. 

“I like cats fine; where can I put this?” He asked instead; hoping to god you didn’t notice the blush heating up his face. 

He started unloading the many take-away boxes he’d prepared for you at the restaurant before skiving off the rest of his shift.

“What is this?”

“Food.”

“Sirius, why did you-”

“I asked what helped.” Sirius explained. “You said food; I brought food. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet dollface, but food is kind of my thing.”

“Smartass.”

“That too.” He replied with a wink, moving to put the desserts in your fridge. 

“Did you seriously come all the way over here just to bring me food?” You asked disbelievingly as you joined Sirius at the counter and peered into the bags.

Sirius had to tamp down the giddiness that threatened to consume him at how sweet and domestic this felt; you clad in your comfies as you helped him unload groceries. 

“I didn’t come all the way over here just to bring you food…I brought other stuff too.” 

“‘Course you did.” You muttered quietly, looking at Sirius with a look in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Go lay down.” He ordered instead as he went about plating your food - opening cabinets at random until he found what he was looking for. “I don’t hear laying down!” He sing-songed when he saw you still  standing in his periphery. 

You harrumphed before acquiescing; picking up your cat who made a little brrp sound as if to second Sirius’ directions. 

Finally content with his efforts, he moved to stand in front of you with a glass of water and some pasta he brought from work. 

You made an appreciative hum and sat up, which seemed to displease Birdie greatly. “God, maybe I need to find myself a personal chef.”

“Oi! Don’t go replacing me now.” Sirius scolded as he perched himself on your coffee table - perhaps a little casual for being a first time (uninvited) guest in someone’s home - but you didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh the job is so yours chef; you’re welcome here anytime.” You said around a mouthful of food. And even though Sirius knew you were joking, he couldn’t help the giddy fluttering of his heart at the sentiment. 

“This is really good, Sirius, and super thoughtful; thank you.” You offered earnestly. 

“So I guess you don’t have any room for dessert, then?” He asked teasingly; his taunting smirk melting away immediately at the excitement that took over your face before he ran to retrieve it for you. 

“Why is she doing that?” Sirius asked after a while, gesturing towards Birdie with his chin who was rubbing her head against the leg of his pants.

“Why’s she doing what?” You asked bemusedly as Sirius fought every urge to wipe the little bit of chocolate from your upper lip. Unfortunately thankfully for him, you licked it out of his sight. 

“Head butting me; seems quite rude.” Sirius murmured as he watched the cat in bemusement. 

“That’s basically a cat hug, Sirius; she’s hugging you, or saying hello.” You chuckled at him.

“Get out.” He scoffed in disbelief. 

“Cats have little scent markers in their cheeks; when they rub against something, they’re affectionately claiming it as their own.”

“So like a dog pissing on trees?” He deadpanned.

“Affectionately claiming you as their own; offer her your hand, Sirius.”

“But what if she-”

“Chef, offer her your hand.” You barked at him with no heat. 

Sirius narrowed his eyes challengingly at you but did as he was told; pleasantly surprised when the cat moved the rubbing from his trousers to his hand. 

“Have you never met a cat before?” You asked as you considered him.

“No…I have.” Sirius offered slowly, admittedly enjoying the velvety soft fur of your little companion. 

“Could’ve fooled me.” You teased as you placed your now empty dish on the side table. 

“My family had a cat growing up; a horrid thing. I swear to god my mum taught him how to attack me. Loved my brother though, but was nasty as all get out to anyone else.” 

“Really? Was he a stray before he lived with you?”

“Nope.” Sirius offered with a pop of the p. “Raised that fucker from kittenhood. Lived a god awful long time too, just to spite me; I wished every year on my birthday that it would die.”

“Sirius!”

“I’m not joking! My brother and I would sneak cupcakes up to my room and he’d light a candle for me and tell me to make a wish. One of them was always ‘please for the love of god let Kreacher die before me’.” He didn’t think now was the time to admit that his other wish was always ‘please for the love of god let us make it out of here alive’. 

“That’s awful; you’re awful.” You laughed. 

“No, Kreacher was awful; I was but a boy.”

“I can’t believe you got after me for naming my cat Birdie when you had a cat named Kreacher.” 

“I didn’t have a cat named Kreacher, my brother did.” He responded haughtily. 

“Who named him?”

“I did.”

“Why?” You laughed again. 

“‘Cause he was a tiny, awful, hateful little gremlin and needed a name that said as much!” 

The two of you laughed until your hands migrated to your abdomen and you began massaging into your skin; a small divot appearing between your brows.

“What is it?” Sirius asked quietly then.

You tried to shake your head and offered him a tight smile. “S’okay.”

“Is it cramps?”

“Yeah.”

“Lie back.” He instructed as he stood from his seat on the coffee table - his mother would be rolling in her grave if she’d seen him with such a lack of manners.

Good.  

“Sirius, really, you’ve-”

“Lie back.” He whispered again, one hand on your shoulder as he gently guided you so that you were lying along your sofa with your head propped up on the armrest.

Stealing himself for perhaps embarrassing himself completely and making this whole precarious situation between the two of you go tits up, he finally shucked off his jacket and boots before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and lowering himself onto the bottom half of your couch.

You watched silently as Sirius situated himself between your legs so that his shoulders and head rested on your abdomen as he weaselled his arms under your back, placing both of his palms up against your lower back.

“Relax.”

“What?”

“You’re tense as shit, doll; relax.” He murmured as he rested his cheek against your stomach.

You let out a breath and sank further into the couch as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” You whispered after a few moments.

“You already thanked me.” He whispered back.

“No, I-” You cut yourself off as you gathered your thoughts; a tentative hand absentmindedly making itself at home in his hair as you found your words. “Thank you.” You settled on.

“You’re welcome.” Sirius offered.

“Where’d you learn this?”

Sirius propped his chin up so he could at you; your hand pausing as your eyes flit to it as if you were only now realising what you’d been doing. “Learn what?”

“The pressure? The body heat. The…helping, with cramps?” You asked tentatively, and if Sirius didn’t know better, he’d think you perhaps looked a touch bashful at your questions - your eyes seemingly incapable of meeting his. 

And once again, Sirius found himself taking another jump, or rather, a complete leap of faith that could very well have this thing the two of you had been building crumble and fall before it even had a chance to start.

“Uhm, it was my brother, actually.” He admitted quietly.

Your eyes did finally meet his at that, where they narrowed a touch in confusion.

“You learned this….from your brother?” 

Sirius nodded as he swallowed nervously. “Right. He uhm, well, it often helped him with his cramps and such, so…yeah.” 

It was apparently his turn to be incapable of meeting your eyes as he moved his head so that it was resting against your stomach again.

“You’re a good brother.” You finally offered.

“Well of course I am.” Sirius offered through a breath of relief. “I’m good at everything I do.” 

“You’re a git.”

“I’m good at that too.”

You gave a disciplinary tug at Sirius’ hair which made him think of several sinful things he’d like to be doing with you whilst you did that next time, but he simply chuckled and sank further into you.

“I didn’t exactly sit like this with him, mind you.”

“No? What does that make me, then?”

“Special.” 

“I guess so.” You breathed out through a chuckle. “Coming over on your day off just to spoil me.”

“It wasn’t my day off.” He responded without thinking, tensing when he felt you suck in a breath.

“Sirius.”

“Mhm?” He offered in faux nonchalance.

“You left work for this!?”

“For you?” He asked as he considered you. “Absolutely.”

“For gods sake, Sirius. I bet Jeffery-” 

But he never got to hear what you thought of Jeffery as he let out a very petulant and dramatic groan and lowered his forehead to your stomach. 

“Babe, I know this isn’t exactly the same thing, but generally a man does not want to hear the name of another bloke when he’s in between your legs, yeah?”

You barked out a laugh and swatted at his shoulder. “You’re awful.”

“Terrible.”

“The worst.”

“Absolutely horrid.”

“Giving Kreacher a run for his money.”

Sirius’ head shot up at that as he levelled you with a warning glare. “Too far.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed, not sounding particularly sorry at all.

“You better be.” Sirius grumbled as he lowered himself back down. “Now be a doll and play with my hair again; it’s nap time.”

And there was an equal chance that you were going to laugh, swat at him, or downright tell him to get his arse back to work.

But Sirius was admittedly overjoyed when you simply placed your fingers back into his hair and began to massage until you fell asleep; him not much longer after you.

[spow-ed]

OW. FUCKIN. OUUUGH,,,,,,,

YOU’RE RIGHT. SO CORRECT OP!!!!!!!!

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[starfilmz]

THOROUGHFARE | UNSURE FEELINGS, DRUNKEN CALLS

⤷ A JJ MAYBANK SOCMED AU .ᐟ

──── you never expected that swapping socials with your call of duty duo would change your life — whether for better or worse, you're still not sure. friendships are made and something much more begins. ON HIATUS

thoroughfare masterlist ──── 05 | 06 | 07

a/n: chap 6 has been a bitch to post bc tumblr couldn’t handle it but VIOLA it has arrived. this chap became a mix of smau and written fic so we doin something here 🤔 ofc it’ll still be social media based do not fret, but i feel like these written ones are needed for this. not betaread obvs so mistakes are everywhere!! lmk your thoughts, expectations, or how u see this fic ending cuz it is soon 😝

john b stood up as soon as he heard the whirring sound of his best friend’s motorcycle. it came to a stop when he stepped out on the château’s porch, leaning against one of the posts with his arms crossed. jj looked disheveled and as much as he wanted to say “as per usual”, the boy walked towards the house as if he ran into several bushes on the way.

he had a frown on his face as he faced john b. “i don’t know what do,” he finally spoke, his expression morphing that tells john b he didn’t want to admit to that. “long distance relationships are weird and, i’ve experienced worst that weird, man, you and i both know that and i—“

“alright, calm down,” john b grabbed the boy’s shoulder before he could go on another self-destructive tangent. “let’s talk about this, okay? pope said he’s on his way with beers.”

jj sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. “it feels unfair for her that i’m making a big deal about this. it’s the whole rafe thing again! honestly, i genuinely think i overreacted.” he sat on the closest couch on the porch with furrowed eyebrows.

john b followed him, an amused expression on his face. jj noticed this, raising his eyebrows at the boy. “what’s so funny?”

he shook his head, his curls falling slightly to his side as he looked at jj. “when’s the last time you acted this way towards a girl?”

“oh, don’t start, jb.”

“i’m sorry, okay? look, you don’t need to be thinking this hard, man, alright?” the boy chuckled, patting his friend firmly on the back. “yn’s a good person, i can tell, and…” john b looked around as if anyone else but the two of them were around. he leaned closer towards jj, who didn’t think twice to do the same.

“from what i’ve read from sar’s phone, yn’s just crazy for you.”

this changed jj’s solemn expression into a mixture of lovesick, curiosity, and excitement. “i mean, that’s natural, right? she agreed to be my girlfriend so it’s natural for her to like me.” his words sounded defensive which made john b’s eyebrows rose.

“what i’m trying to say, jj, you don’t have to freak out just because you don’t know who’s around her. long distance is weird, i agree, but are you going to be like this every time she hangs out with people you don’t know?”

jj lowered his eyes, a tiny wave of shame washing over him. “no.”

“right, and i’m not trying to say don’t be jealous— you can’t help it, you like the girl,” john b held one of the blonde’s shoulder. “and if i were to give you an advice, man to man, thinking in your shoes, if you find long distance so much, why don’t you do something about it?”

jj looked up at john b, confusion etched all over his face. “what are you—“ and as if something clicked in his mind, john b nodded, confirming his thoughts. “isn’t it too soon?”

“what’s too soon?” both boys visibly flinched as pope made his presence known, beer bottles in hand. “i had to swipe this from my dad’s stack so you guys better fill me in.”

you couldn’t help the smile at john b’s story, giving it a heart as scrolled off the app. you would send a response, something about not leaving him in the streets because you guys still have a game session planned tomorrow, but you decided not to.

they were probably still at the boneyard, a place where they usually throw their parties as you’ve learned previously from jj, and they’ve shared enough stories about those to let you know those parties don’t end easily.

you sighed, sliding further into your bed as you hugged your pillow. was it silly to feel the way you do now?

you aren’t ready to fly out to see the boy you’ve been dying to see, but you want to, and you tell yourself you’re okay seeing them have fun, but as you stare deeper into your bedroom wall, you’re beginning to doubt that.

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to sleep and brush off your thoughts, but as soon as you do, your phone rang beside you. you moved the pillow and raised your phone, seeing jj’s profile picture and username across your screen.

jj was calling you.

you sat up, answering the phone, and placed it on your ear. loud music greeted your first, along with voices you’re not familiar with.

“—you can’t just leave her like that, jayj!” a girl harshly whispered against the speaker and it made you think she was either kiara, cleo, or sarah.

“hello?” you finally spoke, and when you did, everyone on the other side seemed to quiet down. you heard some kind of harsh slap, along with a small ‘ow!’. you didn’t recognize the rest of the voice before, but you were definitely aware someone had slapped jj.

“jj? you there?” you called once more, tone lighter in amusement. “i’m gonna hang up on you if you don’t talk.”

that seemed to catch the boy’s attention as he began sputtering away. “no, no, don’t, hello! look, i’m sorry, i’m being peer pressed right now—“

“don’t say that!” a deeper voice interrupted him.

“—and i just wanted to hear your voice…” from the way jj was talking, you could tell he was drunk, though you did believe that slap before sobered him up a bit. “i missed you, yn.”

“it’s only been a day a whole, jj,” you chuckled, leaning against your pillows. despite your answer, you couldn’t help but feel the same way. “but i missed you too, jay.”

“i’ve been building up the courage to call you all night and, i don’t know, i just wanted to hear from you before my lights go out,” jj laughed at his own words, a drunken expression all over his face you imagined.

“build up the courage? i’m your girlfriend, jay, you could call me whenever you want.” you answered, a small smile on your face.

there was a beat of silence from him and you thought it was a sign that he’s close to getting conked out, but his next words proved otherwise.

“can you say that again?” he whispered, almost like he’s hiding, which was most likely from his eavesdropping friends. “about the girlfriend thing, please?”

you hummed a playful tone, the instinct to tease jj was strong and it almost won if it weren’t the way your cheeks heated up at his voice, the way he sounded so soft and near the phone as if he was saying it directly in your ear.

“i’m your girlfriend, jj maybank. you happy?” you had to roll your eyes despite no one being with you hearing your sappy voice and attitude, anything to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay.

“so happy, you don’t even know, baby,” the nickname came to you as a shock, but it didn’t felt wring hearing it from jj. if anything, you wanted to make him say it again. “i’m just so— oh my god, so happy. i’m your boyfriend, you’re my girlfriend— oh, bliss!”

you couldn’t help the laugh that bursted from you as jj’s voice doubled in volume. “i have a girlfriend! and she really likes me!” jj’s speaker managed to get the sound of what sounded like a crowd cheering at his embarrassing announcement, making you chuckle even further.

“alright, hands off the phone, okay— john b, take him, please? before he announces more details about yn?” another voice took over the call, and by the way the boy, who you now know is john b, responded with a ‘yes, ma’am’, you assumed it was sarah who came to the rescue.

“hey, sarah,” you greeted her. “having fun?”

“oh, we are, but no so much for jj tomorrow.”

“i can imagine, you’d think he’ll be able to live with that?” you joked.

“babe, he has no choice,” sarah responded with a laugh. “but for now, john b’s taking him back to the château to properly conk out.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“so,” she started and you already picked up the teasing tone in her voice.

“so?” you chuckled, amused at her.

“still unsure of visiting your hopeless boyfriend? was his very public and loud declaration of love for you enough?”

you hugged the nearest pillow, a warm smile spreading across your face. you felt a lot more at ease and mind solely focused on jj. “it’s enough.”

thoroughfare taglist: @yumwhy @beeskisses @callieyanderechan @udpoota @vivian-555 @popesbby @whatisoutside @roryology @readinghoes @mytimeiswaiting @marleymarleymarleymarley @urmotherlvr @fruitcakerafe @bobobellabo @max23b @mirellef2001 @bearbear21 @cassiewritessalot @baocean @ayy1234567 @lmaowhatt @scaroooos @mbella607 @dylsdaily @1mcrazybutcute

big apologies to the peeps that wanted to be tagged but aren’t here cuz i might’ve missed yall bc and for the people that are written on here but weren’t notified pls refer to this post :)

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can you do a Plus!Size!Reader x Paul Lahote?

I’m thinking, reader who is Bella’s sister, has been friends with Jacob for years (stayed with Charlie) and she’s always had this massive crush on Paul. Since she is insecure about her weight/ looks, she always avoided Paul at all costs, embarrassing herself too.

One day, she gets dragged by Bella when Bella is mad Jacob. This is where Bella slaps Paul across the face. The reader stays in the truck but when this happens, she gets out of the truck to stop Bella. Paul phases which scares Bella and Reader but he then imprints on reader.

For a while their relationship is just friends (per readers request) until Paul kinda snaps in frustration because he wants to be more and he knows reader wants it too. Lots of fluff and reassurance that the reader is worthy enough for Paul.

Thank you so much, your writing is just amazing and I think you would write this really well ❤️

You're More Than Your Body

A/n: my thick queens!!! I know for a fact that Paul would be obsessed with them thighs! Oh lawd I can see it already!!! BTW I FREAKING LOVE THIS STORY I AM SO BOOSTING MY EGO BC I DID SO GOOD IN THIS! PLZ, I LOVE IT!

Warning: bad language

Paul. Paul. Paul. Nobody runs through your head like Paul. Even now that you're graduated and so is he, you see him around town. Especially since you and Bella are close with Jacob.

You stare in the body mirror in your bedroom, grabbing your stomach in hopes it'll disappear. It would make this outfit look so much better... your heart pounds as tears want to explode from your eyes. The pain of being the "funny fat friend" and always being the butt end of the joke your whole life has really been weighing on you. Even now, as an adult and being stuck on a guy since school.

"I need you to come with me. This is serious." Bella barges in your room.

"Oh, so the sad girl speaks to me now?" You glare at her.

"Look, I'm sorry for ignoring you and charl-.. dad, it's just been.." She stops knowing that you know what she means.

"Edward. Yeah." You roll your eyes and then smile at her. "Okay, what you got?" You ask.

"Jake has been away. They're saying he's sick. I have to see him." She says.

"He's probably tired of you stringing him along." You reply.

She shakes her head and then walks over to you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down the stairs.

"Uh! Hey! Stop!" You yell.

"I don't want to go alone." She looks at you, still holding your wrist.

"Fine." You sigh.

You both get in her raggedy truck. She speeds up to Billy's house. The car ride was mostly her panicking, and you telling her to slow the Frick down. But, she pulls in with both of you alive. She gets out of the truck and enters past Billy. He sees you sitting in the truck, and you awkwardly wave.

The sound of whistles is heard toward the trees next to the house. You look over and see Jared, Paul, Sam, and Embry. Your heart races as your eyes fixate on Paul. They don't see you. It seems like they're calling for Jacob.

Bella barges out and goes over to them. Your mind blanks out with what is happening. You notice they're yelling and Paul is getting angry. You decide to be the protective older sister and run out of the truck.

"Bella!" You yell and make your way over there. As you get closer, she slaps him. "BELLA WHAT THE HELL?!" You grab her arm.

Paul is snarling. His body seems to get bigger. Next thing you know, he's a wolf. A silver wolf growling at Bella. She falls on the ground, and you stare at the monster. He looks at you and stops snarling. He whimpers.

"BELLA!" Jacob runs out and turns into a wolf, too.

This caught Paul's attention, and they began to fight, wrestling into the woods. You're breathing heavy in fear, but look down at Bella. She's confused and looking at Sam.

"Hey, bring these girls to Emily's place." Sam orders.

"Guess the wolf's out of the bag." Embry mumbles.

That's when you learn everything. Emily and Bella go on a tangent about it all. Embry is cracking jokes, and Jared is kicking him under the table for spilling too much to a 'leech lover'.

Paul walks inside and sits on the chair beside you. He turns back to Bella. "Sorry." He smirks and eats the muffins that are placed on the table. His eyes roam up and meet yours.

You pause. Is he really looking at you?

He sets the muffin down before rubbing his hands on his shorts. He extends a hand and smiles at you. "Paul." He says.

"Yeah, I know." You smile and shakily let your hand reach his. You feel warmth fill up your body. You know your cheeks are burning red.

His smile fades, and he lets go of your hand. "You know me?" He asks, as if he's guilty for not knowing you.

"Yeah. School. We graduated the same year and... you were quite popular with the girls." You snort.

He gulps and looks down. "Yes. Yes, I was." He seems so guilty. But his face turns back to you with a smile. "What's your name?" He asks.

You go to speak but Embry interrupts. "That's y/n. Leech lover's sister." He laughs.

Paul glares at him. "I'd like for her to answer that herself."

Embry lifts his hands up in defense. "Aight, chief. Or should I say.... imprinter..." He snorts.

Jared hits the back of his head. "Bro! That's Paul's story to tell!" He yells.

Sam enters and glares at Embry. "Stop it." He turns to Paul and smiles. "Welcome to the club." He takes Emily by the waist and kisses her.

"What's an imprinter? I'm confused.." You smile and look around awkwardly.

---

"Friends?" You smile at him.

He stares out at the beach, the waves crashing, and the wind blowing. "Yes. I'm sorry for not noticing you. I'm sorry for everything." He turns to face you. "Friends." He smiles.

You sigh of relief and look out at the water. You want more but you're too big for him in your mind. You accepted the bond, but maybe friends will do. At least you'll be around him, and it won't be so bad.

"C'mon. Let's go get food." He stands up and takes out a hand for you.

Yes. You've barely eaten today, and it's four pm. You take his hand, and he helps you stand up. When you're on your feet, he grabs your waist to steady you. That touch has you SPINNING.

"Where do you want to go?" He asks.

"Hm, I'm totally feeling burgers." You giggle.

"Oh, fuck yeah! My kind of girl!" He yells and takes your hand, kissing your knuckles.

He leads you to his truck and takes you to a small diner. It's actually the one you, dad, and Bella used to go to growing up. Now that she's back, the trips here have been more frequent.

He opens your door and helps you out by holding your waist. He seems to love grabbing you there. Honestly, you don't mind, but at the same time, them love handles are ugly to you. He leads you inside and you both get a seat and order.

Paul looks over your face.

You awkwardly look around and smile while blushing. "What?" You ask.

"Nothing." He chuckles and sips his Dr. Pepper. "What's it like being Bella's sister?" He asks.

"Nothing but drama. But I love her. She's very giving to family." You smile.

He nods. "I don't have anyone but my asshole father. I don't live with him, thank God." He rolls his eyes.

Your heart aches for him. You can't imagine not having anyone. "I'm so sorry." You reach out and touch his hand.

His eyes dart toward your contact, and he smiles. "Nah, it's no big deal. I have my boys."

"I guess that makes things better." You smile and let his hand go.

The waitress places your guys' food down, and you both enjoy the night getting to know each other.

It's dark out now, and you're in his truck watching the roads as he brings you home. You're startled when you feel a hand on your thigh. You look down and see his fingers on your flesh. His thumb is rubbing your skin. You look over at his face. He's just watching the road.

---

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Paul is at your window. You know it's him because he HAS to show up every night after patrol. You get up from the bed and open your window. He climbs up and closes it behind him. He hovers over you with a smile.

"Hey." He whispers, pushing hair behind your ear.

"Hey." You blush and soak in the warmth of his body heat.

He slowly leans in, looking in your eyes and then to your lips. No. No. You're too ugly. He's just into you because of the bond. Shit! You don't want to be used. You back away and awkwardly laugh. He gets the message and looks at you.

"Wanna see what I've been watching?" You plop on your bed and pull out your phone.

He smiles and lays beside you.

You show him the YouTube videos you've been addicted to until you fall asleep.

---

You're eating the brownies that Emily made while sitting at the bonfire. Everyone is talking and you're stuck in a debate with Sam.

"No! You're wrong!" He smiles, pointing at you.

You laugh and put your plate on the ground to get focused. "Sam, listen! I'm telling you, the grass is wet in the morning because of the dew!" You yell.

"It's because of the rain!" He yells back.

"Aren't you out all night? On the nights it doesn't rain, why is the grass wet then?!" You're laughing so hard.

Paul, from beside you, gently touches your knee. "He thinks he's always right. You won't win." He laughs in your ear.

"Love birds." Jared smirks.

You look at him. "No, we're just friends." You smile.

"Still?!" Jared asks, shocked. "Damn, Paul! You're taking your time." He laughs.

"Dude.." Paul shakes his head in annoyance.

After the bonfire, Paul brings you to his house. You're super freaking tired, and you fall on one couch in exhaustion. Paul puts a blanket over you and sits on the other couch that's next to your head. The couches are in an 'L' shape. He sits there while you fall asleep. Your arm falls out, and he looks down at your hand. He slowly takes it, holding onto it while you sleep.

---

You wake up and feel a body underneath you. You look down to see that you're on a snoring Paul's chest. You look around and see that you're in his living room. You panic and sit up, going onto the other couch. Your movements wake him up.

"You alright?" He asks in a tired and low voice.

"I.. don't remember falling asleep." You awkwardly giggle.

"You were shivering, so I joined you." He yawns and sits up. "Was that alright?" He asks worriedly.

"Yeah.. yeah, that's okay. Thank you." You smile.

He smiles back and checks his phone. "What you want for breakfast?"

"How about I make something here? If you have anything." You stand up and walk to his kitchen.

"Yeah, I've got stuff. You sure you want to cook? I can do it." He stands up and leans on his fridge, watching you.

"Yeah, no! I've got it." You smile.

He smirks and walks up to you, grabbing your waist. "You're beautiful." He whispers.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You look up in his eyes. "Friends.." You whisper.

He sighs and lets you go. "You know, I can't with you. You hold back so much and you won't let me in." He says in frustration.

You put the stuff on the counter and look at him with worry.

"I want you and I know.. I KNOW you want me, too. Why can't I have you?!" He smiles but is still aggravated.

You gulp and cross your arms. "I'm not good enough for you. All through school, you wanted the skinny girls. You only want me because you imprinted on me." You say quietly.

He starts laughing with anger. "Are you serious?!"

Tears threaten to escape your eyes. He notices and frowns. He pulls you into him and rubs your back. "Nobody will ever compare to you. You're more than your body. And if I didn't imprint on you, I would still think you're fucking hot." He says. "Let me prove it." He pulls away and looks at you.

You smile, hopeful, and touch his cheek. "You mean that?" You ask.

He grabs your waist and picks you up effortlessly. He tosses you on the couch while you giggle. He hovers over you and touches your stomach. "I love this." He smiles. His hand lowers to your outer thigh, and he squeezes. "I love this." He continues to squeeze your thigh. "Oh, the way these will be my pillows." He chuckles. "I love..."His hand moves lower, "may I?" He wants to touch your ass. You nod, and he happily grabs your ass. "Jesus, I love this." He bites his lip and looks over your face. "Most importantly," his hand touches your chest where your heart is rapidly beating, "I love this." He says. "You're absolutely stunning." His eyes scan your features. "I'd show you off to the universe."

You're smiling, blushing, shedding tears, and lowkey screaming inside. Your heart is swollen with love and affection. You never want this to end. Now, you understand, you are perfect for him. You grab the back of his neck and pull him down to your lips.

His lips meet yours, and the kiss is gentle and loving. Your lips move perfectly, and he finally pulls away. "What an amazing kisser." He smirks. "Mine, now?" He asks.

You laugh and nod your head wiping away your tears. "Yes, Paul. I'm yours, now."

[cremedensada]

I’m gonna need general hcs on interactions with the boy next door… like what if we just moved to town and we first meet him as we’re moving in… Also can they be in like highschool? I don’t know if that’s already the gist but yeah. She’s moving in with her mom and he’s there…

Yandere Boy Next Door

sorry anon i think i went way to far away from what you wanted shdhdh also theyre senior high school students (grade 11 - 12) which is like, two preparatory years for college. so theyre adults bc im much more comfortable with that :33

btw his name is lukas !! he's named now

male yandere + gender neutral darling/reader

lukas is easily approachable - he's got that warmth about him that just draws people in. it's all practiced to maintain his popularity though.

he's also a huge people-pleaser, despite the fact he easily gets burnt out and has his social battery drained.

so when his mom asked him to be a dear and help the new neighbor's kid on their way around the school + neighborhood, he just couldn't say no

sure he's tired, possibly close to having another breakdown just thinking about being pestered by fellow students for answers to homeworks and other menial stuff, but he still manages to say yes and give her another perfectly practiced smile

when he goes over to the house next to theirs - the ones you moved in to, you had no lasting impression on him

now, don't be mistaken, he does think you're good looking but at the end of the day he'd much rather curl up in bed and sleep

so he puts up that perfectly crafted persona and invites you to head to school with him. a new environment is much easier to deal with when you're not dealing with it by yourself! (or something like that)

he tries not to be overbearing, trying to get you to open up while also making sure he's respecting your boundaries and comfort as you made your way inside the school gates

you don't share the same classes, so he asks you for your time table so he knows your schedule

he hopes he's not being creepy or anything, he's just making sure your first day transferring here goes well

sure he's known for being a caring person in general but he does feel like it's his responsibility to make sure you're doing well you know? you're neighbors now, you guys should get along!

it's smooth sailing until it's time you guys finally went home

like that morning, he waits for you and invites you to walk home with him to familiarize with the shortcuts and local lounging spots for students

all the while he tries to get you to talk about your experience today

it must be due to the amount of stress piled up on his plate that lead him to feel... nervous.

his perfect persona cracking as his calm demeanour and collected way of talking slowly devolved into nervous tangents talking about anything at all

were you displeased? his perfection was practiced and polished since he was a kid, was it still not enough for you?

he could handle disappointing people a lot better now but paired with his currently leaning towards unstable, your displeasure is something that's slowly tearing him from the inside

he's jolted out of his thoughts when you suddenly speak up.

"thanks for showing me around. i thought i was going to struggle getting used to things all by myself."

you smiled up at him. "so... yeah. you're... okay."

his heart thumped.

everywhere all around him feels a ton of degrees warmer.

"...okay." lukas was tongue tied.

on the remainder of the journey back home, he walked you to your house, ensuring you got inside safely before making a beeline towards their house and into his room.

normally at this hour he'd be passed out in bed, tired after a whole day of pretending and smiling. today was perhaps the first time he didn't go to bed with his cheeks hurting and aching from smiling so much.

laying in bed, making an excuse as to why he's not going to be joining for dinner, just thinking about you and your words.

lukas grew up living to the standards of being perfect. a perfect son. a perfect student. a perfect friend.

anything less is... unacceptable to say the least. when you do or think of something so often in your day to day life, it becomes a habit. and lukas' habit is perfection.

but you thought he was okay.

okay.

suddenly 'okay' sounds much better than being perfect.

suddenly your opinion towards him becomes much more important than anyone else's.

lukas is a people pleaser, and onwards from that moment, the only 'people' he will ever want to please is you.

i hope this is sufficient? i'm actually v sleepy rn lol but thank you for the idea!

[wasteland-wrecker]

Your art is amazing and I admire how consistent your art is for characters! Could you share your process or a speed paint of your work?

Okay so first of all I’m not a professional, so keep this in mind while you read.

My process for a colored piece is very simple: sketch - refined sketch (lineart) - flat colors - shadows and lighting rough placement- rendering - final adjustments (+ a bit of chromatic aberration and noise)

Tricks I use: flip horizontally the canvas a lot of times while sketching - zoom out to see the whole canvas in a miniature (easy to spot mistakes) - put on a gray filter on the colored piece to see if the contrast is good - go away from the drawing for some time, come back to find the mistakes you couldn't see before - never do a piece in one day from start to finish - avoid tangents…

As long as I’m happy with the results lately, I see there’s much I could improve.

Anything else you want to know, feel free to ask!

(Sorry for the bad quality of this recording 😭)

[maroonswan]

Imagine pampering pro hero!Izuku Midoriya after he rushes in the door late for date night, covered in a thick layer of the day's sweat and grime. A fresh bouquet of flowers clutched gingerly in his scarred hands as he apologizes for being such a mess.

He immediately lauches into a tangent of an explanation, rambling about how he had wanted to get back home as soon as possible but had still wanted to get you something special. That he had neglected washing up at the agency in order to run by the flower shop before it closed, and that despite the late hour he still fully indended to take you out tonight (after grabbing a quick shower).

"There're still a few bars open." He continues. "We could grab your favorite cocktails. We could dance. And, maybe after that we could get some fast food or I can cook you dinner! I'm sorry, [Y/N]. I know it's not exactly what you were hoping for, but I promise I'll make it up to-"

You cut off him before he could finish, pulling him in to a tight hug; your face burried deep in his soiled chest, muffling your laughter as he freezes in his tracks.

Midoriya can't help it. With you, his worries seem small. He takes a deep breath relishing your sweet clean scent as a smile comes to his lips.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm just glad your home, Izu." You sigh. "Besides, I had other plans on how I want to spend the night."

"You do?" He asks, genuinely curious, feeling your self-satisfied hum rolling through his chest. Such a coy non-answer. He knows you're up to something but decides to play along. He's kind of tired of asking questions anyway.

"Whatever you want, lovley" your boyfreind agrees whole heartedly, kissing your forehead and making you giggle with excitement. You always appreciated Midoriya's trust and intend to show him so tonight.

Without another word, you gently take Izuku's hand in yours and lead him to your shared bedroom.

Thinking about giving Midoriya a handjob after a hot bath and a full body massage. The epsom salts having worked wonders on his sore muscles; the remaining knots having melted away under your touch. Yet, he knew he was done for the second you drop your rode to reveal you were wearing nothing underneath. His cock immediately swelling with blood as you crawled your way on top of him, straddling him, your ass pressing into the corded muscles of his thighs.

Izuku is still covered in oil, glistening in the golden glow of the candle light. His stares at you mesmerized as you watch him with an equal sence of wonder, near hypnotized by the nervous rise and fall of his shining abdomen and chest.

He's so wonderfully gorgeous, like an angel or a demi-god.

How could you not serve his every need?

Izuku breath catches you gently grasp your hand around him. It's warm and so soft, so smooth. He can't bring himself to protest as your start stroke him just way he likes it, your grip light but sqeezing tighter the closer you get to the tip; fingers running lusciously across the vein on the underside; the tugging of his lubed cock making such lude fapping noises.

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut as he moans openly, slutilly. He feels like he's melting in your hands even as all the muscles in his body tightened up again; your other hand massaging his balls as you continued to pump.

He knows he isn't going to last long. Not when it feels this good, when you've been so thoughtful, when everytime he reopens his eyes he's greeted again by your perfect body and jiggling tits.

You're spoiling him, and he's helpless to stop you.

"Fuck," he slurs. Better words having formed on the edge of his lips but never having fully come through.

He cums so quick in your hands, and it's alot. Warm and shooting out of him in seemingly endless ropes with each replenishing pump.

Izuku's not at all ashamed. If anything, he feels relaxed. His muscles are completely slack, and if it wasn't for his many scars he would have had a hard time beleiving he ever was hurt before.

He turns to you as you curl up beside him. His gaze soft and full of love.

"Thank you, baby."

[hcuyk]

im a dean girlie and the description is EXACTLY how my last relationship ended.

i love that you can learn so much about a person's issues by asking them which of rory gilmore's cringefail boyfriends is their favorite.

[m1ssunderstanding]

I'm halfway through Midas Man and I have to say one of my favorite things so far is the way they have shown George Martin's affinity for Paul - the way he zeros in on Paul's voice while listening to the band's recording calling it 'quite sweet' (while having no comment for the others specifically) and of course the scene in the studio, where he has critiques for everyone except Paul, I found it quite funny!

Aahhh I know!!!

The bond between George Martin and Paul is genuinely so important to Paul's development as a person and an artist, and therefore to the development of popular music as a whole. Paul desperately needed an authority figure to see him as talented, intelligent, and important. (John saw those things in him thank goodness, and that is infinitely valuable as well, but it's different coming from a central daddy figure) It seems to me, for all Jim's enthusiasm for Paul's musical pursuits as something fun that would get him into parties and make the family some money, he didn't seem to see Paul himself as particularly gifted. Then, Brian in the beginning seemed to favor John, seeing and marketing John as the intelligent, literary, witty, smart Beatle, and showing through his investments of time and money into John that he thought he was more special than the others. (Not that I'm not happy for John to have that love, he desperately needed it too) But I mean George Martin is in almost all of my Paul documents. He had a very big impact.

So it was vital that Paul had someone in his corner who could see his gifts, both as a musician/vocalist and as a creative force through writing and producing, who showed Paul he could trust him and opened so many possibilities to him. George Martin not only heard the strings on Yesterday, but knew how to coax Paul out of his box enough to really try them and valued Paul's composition abilities enough to teach him how to write for strings. And that was just their first major collaboration.

Throughout at least two decades of work, George Martin gave Paul the opportunities and the expertise and the safety to push the boundaries of how much artistic freedom a working class boy could exercise and what he could expand popular music to be.

Sorry to go off on a soapy tangent there but this is such an underrated relationship in this fandom and I'm just really glad you gave me the excuse to talk about it!

But yes. I was soooo happy to see him getting to be George's instant special baby. You're completely right. In the movie, he's basically like "why would I give these guys a chance? This isn't what I even do. Well, one of them has a very sweet voice. Okay I'll give them a shot." And then in the studio he's very obviously got a favorite on day one. I'm About to make another irresponsible statement here but isn't it true that George Martin at one point very early on suggested to Brian that they make Paul the frontman?

Anyway! Thank you very very much for thinking of me and sending this in!

[innerempire]

The Avengers trying to raise funds for god-knows-what and Natasha comes with brilliant naughty idea of a pin-up calendar of their youngest Avenger. There's nothing like showing some skin, and it's obvious (be it in Twitter, Instagram, Tiktok, or Reddit) that the public unanimously think that the newest addition to the team - Peter Parker - is pretty fucking hot.

Sure, they've not seen his face before, but that lithe body in that spandex? Peter's the only one comfortable with actually baring his ass for the calendar (Steve acknowledges that Captain America's ass is still one of the finest, but he's not fucking baring his ass cheeks for a goddamn calendar).

Thing is, Natasha has to run through the idea with Tony first because she thinks that Stark acts like a unhinged guard dog out for blood when his favorite protege is involved. She's not stupid to try and go behind Tony's back on this.

''I'm sorry, what-'' Tony swipes at his keyboard, interrupting Natasha from her tangent.

''Don't mind him.'' Peter pipes up from where he's tinkering with his latest project. ''He goes 'huh' a lot these days.''

Tony points a wrench in Peter's direction, ''Zip it.''

''Look, we want something that's going to sell. People love Peter in spandex, and what's hotter than hip keeping his mask on and, you know, executing a couple of suggestive positions with his ass showing. Pepper thinks putting him in a thong would make people go insane-''

''Are you-'' Tony rubs at his mouth. ''Did you even sleep after your coming back from your mission with Barton? Or am I the one hallucinating this conversation?'' He tries to mentally compute the last time he had slept.

''Peter said yes.''

Peter's neck is flushed, ''...I figured, since it's for charity...? I do have a pretty nice ass, especially when it's in spandex. So, you know, me in a thong would be-''

''Okay.'' Tony claps his hands together, startling both Natasha and Peter. ''I'm going to get a drink. Preferably something really strong, because I'm going to pretend that you didn't just waltz in here to tell me that you want the kid's bare ass on a pin-up calendar.''

''Prude.'' Natasha clicks her tongue disapprovingly at Tony.

After Natasha leaves, an amused Peter wheels his chair over towards Tony, ''So, which one bothered you more? The fact that people are going to own a calendar with like 12 months of Spiderman's bare ass, or the idea of me in a thong? Or panties, you know, the ones with the bows and frills that you have stashed deep in your wardrobe. I'm assuming they're for me, after you tell me that you've been fantasizing about this. But hey, if they're for you, that's pretty fucking hot too, Mr.Stark.''

A couple of months later, the idea does push through (under Tony's strict supervision). Because Peter's such a little shit, he signs the first printed copy and leaves it on Tony's desk with a note: Do me a favor and film yourself jerking off to the calendar, Mr. Stark. P.S: You'll love the month of May.

Of fucking course the month of May is Peter in the panties that Tony had so generously gifted to him - a gorgeous satiny piece that's gold and red.

The calendar is obviously a hit and during the next Avengers gathering, everyone's teasing Peter to sign their copies.

''So.'' Natasha sidles up to Peter. ''How bad did Tony give it to you for having your bare ass out in that calendar?''

''...they had to use two whole tubes of concealer and a shitload of powder and foundation even after a week after what Tony did to me.''