#and so I'm about to go back to the drawing board and figure out these stubborn and flighty characters

[seewetter]

While I'm not totally on board with OPs presentation of the topic (I think there's a bit of connective tissue missing as to why the hostility of men specifically in blue collar jobs has relevance to a discussion of right-wing men in general), this post says things that I've been trying to articulate for a while.

To draw a somewhat absurd comparison, I think the people OP is criticizing seem to internalize a view of conservative ideas akin to sappy Hollywood films like "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", where the intolerant people simply "come around" and warm up to the idea of a intercultural wedding (or some other new state of affairs) because there was demand for them to change their minds. Nothing wrong with stories simplifying the world like that, but the realities of changing minds are more complex than "everyone clapped".

To me, one of the most under-discussed factors holding back feminist movements is that our society hasn't yet solved creating a financially safe environment for men leaving the workforce to enter traditionally feminine-coded domains like housework. This is true for blue-collar workers who if they try to re-enter the work force suddenly have big gaps on their resume and its true for white-collar workers: a lawyer would have to go to law school again for several years to re-enter the field (ditto for a doctor, etc.). This doesn't necessarily affect how society thinks about transgressive gender expression or sexual orientation or about trans people, for example, but in an economy where businesses try to cut corners and pay as few people as possible it is a factor that means that many men will view the destruction of the patriarchy as a huge risk of their personal, individual ability to financially survive. Some feminists might tell these men to suck it up and become house-husbands, but that position comes with far less prestige, far less voice in society, far less autonomy, far less social mobility and requires ingenuity (taking on smaller jobs) in order to survive. It generates a dependency on another individual: this is why women's magazines so often revolve around what men want, what men like, what pleases men and how to make men happy while men's magazines revolve around male hobbies.

What OP is criticizing has to be viewed in that context: not only is OP correct that male peer groups make personal status and respect conditional on edgyness at best and often on outright bigotry... but if our society doesn't figure out the financial escape route for male independence then they will continue to intuitively think of genders as naturally polar opposites, some subsets of men will automatically oppose women entering the workforce (or men leaving it), maintaining fragile masculinity and emasculation will continue to be (in a certain bounded rationality sense where we don't consider broader and more radical alternatives) valid concerns.

Like: are conservative parents who let their sons bring girls home but don't let their daughters bring boys home not effectively showing concern about the future prospects of their children in a proportionate way? Men who fool around and disappoint or challenge their partners with a broader pool of sexual or romantic encounters can continue to have a nice life if their financial subsistence comes not from their current main partner but from their job. If the wife is unhappy with her married husband, he can receive a pay raise from the boss tomorrow because the boss is probably not the wife and the wife's wants and needs are totally unrelated to the employers wants and needs. If the husband is unhappy with his married wife, he can dump her...and now she has to scramble to figure out if she can receive alimony, how to receive alimony or whether she can survive with her relatives for a while. I agree that most conservatives are probably not thinking this deep into it, but their value systems allow for a kind of bounded rationality where if society operates like this, placing an unfair double standard on your children gives those children the maximum autonomy that that society grants without getting those kids into risk of serious trouble.

If we can solve this problem then presumably convincing conservatives to raise their kids different will be significantly easier -- it will be comparable to the kind of progress women made in the 1920s when wearing pants and earning money from a "man's job" often went together and enabled women to pay their own bills and do what they wanted without social punishment. And if the kids are raised different, they will have different priorities. These male spaces where men prove themselves by socially reinforcing loyalty to the hierarchies of society and glorifying the power they have over others...they will stop making as much sense to a younger generation. There will be respected and well-known men in society who are not conforming in any way to male norms. The male chauvinism will become less important to those groups which previously seemed to be fueled by it. In such a world, patriarchal attitudes will just be opinions, not a form of bounded rationality. Nothing important will hinge on these opinions, people will be far more able to give up these opinions...especially future generations.

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[ixkhor-and-ambroxia]

Maybe-Controversial-Writing-Opinion!

If you can't figure out what way to format something, then you haven't written it right. I'm not saying it's wrong in anyway or the content itself is 'cringe' or whatever your brain is thinking of right now, I'm saying that you haven't presented your ideas right. Rewrite it. Keep rewriting. Put it down and pick it up again in a few days. Rewrite It. Do not keep it there and expect for your opinion of it to somehow change within the next few days, rewrite it. Figure out your world and your story and if that original sentence ends up being it, then you have still succeeded. You have broken apart that sentence and/or concept and figure out its parts. You may have put it back together the same but now you know how and why it works. I have gone back to the drawing board multiple times for things because one sentence/idea just does not fit right and I need to know why. I need to know whether I need to change it or put in in a different place because this material did not just come out of thin air; it goes somewhere. Everything goes somewhere, even if it's just a moment in time. So rewrite your work. Go back to the drawing board. You deserve to reset and take apart and examine your work just like a mechanic does. So rewrite it. Trust me, it'll end up a thousand times better :)

[attleboy]

okay so it's been a bit... sorry about that??? ^-^; here's a quick doodle dump to make up for it with a brief (for me) explanation of where i've been at the end <3

some things that were meant as ask responses but i never felt like posting

scattered bits from a lore headcanon comic i have no plans of finishing... set when jax first joined and ragatha was still new, before shit happens (queenie abstracts) and things got worse for them...

idk i like thinking about the possibilities and i like it when characters start out hopeful and get it beaten out of them so i'm giving jax and ragatha that treatment in my head :)

here's the "behind the scenes" stuff i mentioned in the second of my raggedy ann tadc crossover posts

and here's me giving pomni varying levels of a hard time

old aggie board stuff

one of my first ragatha and pomni drawings on the left (nov 2023) and a lil redraw on the right.... (mar 2024) pls... don't mind my old ragatha design i didn't know what i was doing

and for those who like my sona, doodles inspired by the mafia roleplay/au(?) that's been around... not actually part of it, but i was part of a mafia roleplay myself back in 2020 so idk, consider it an acknowledgement of my roots :D

OKAY so where i've been... well at first it was a normal break, but then i figured i'd extend it until finals were over so i wouldn't get distracted! probably should've given some warning but ehhh i got busy fast and getting to go off grid for a bit was relaxing :)

anyway i'm all done so i'm back more or less??? still fatigued from studying for weeks straight so idk when i'll pick up the pen again but that'll be soon i hope... and bc i drafted this before it was posted YES i've seen the episode 2 trailer!!! very cool i'm very excited!! gonna try and get ep 2 hype art out before it drops!! :D

[railingsofsorrow]

I hate you, until I don't

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: three times you annoyed Spencer and three times Spencer annoyed you, proving the two of you cannot stand each other. . . until the one time that there was less annoyance and more sexual tension. 

pairing: s.reid x reader 

w.c: 3.6K

warnings/content: inaccurate medical procedures (don't come for me); language; flirting; enemies to lovers; case-related violence; suggestive content (no smut but I'm classifying this as +16).

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Coffee] 

Smoke should be coming out of his ears by now, from the way his neck is pink and you're sure he's also got his jaw clenched by how his furiously he's writing on the board, connecting the leads.  

You've been fifteen minutes out of the room and Spencer has figure out the whole case.  

“Why are you so angry?” 

“I'm not angry.” 

You do not need to be a profiler to know he had that answer on the tip of his tongue, ready to give the excuse to someone who asked the inevitable question. Right, you're not gonna fall for that.  

“Um. Okay.” 

Spencer clicks the pen twice before you settle beside him, perching your hip against the table. His tongue travels across his lips slowly, he's trying to focus but can't.  

You don't know the reason. It could be a thousand things given that the local police you were working with have not been exactly welcoming to the FBI butting in on their case. Some cops acted hostile towards the team, but it was nothing you couldn't handle.  

By handling it you meant switching your focus to something better: Reid. You both draw limits to be around each other. It's nothing personal (maybe?) but you just don't get along as you do with the rest of the team. That doesn't mean you don't work well together in the field, no. In 80% of field work, you have Spencer by your side exchanging ideas to come up with good conclusions. The other 20% is the time apart you require to breathe away from each other.  

You don't hate him. If anyone hates Spencer Reid, they just might have to do a CT scan, that man doesn't have a single bad bone in his skinny body.  

You, however, have a field day while annoying him. Though you're not particularly close, you throw harmless jabs at one another once in a while.  

You are bored and Spencer is here, therefore... 

“I'm not angry.” His tone is final as he lets his eyes fall on you to look back to the board. The crease between his brows deepens. You tilt your head curiously. You don't really care about what got him mad, though it is an interesting fact to see him actually pissed about something. It's a rare image. “Not angry at all.” 

You kick his converse playfully, standing up fully. “I said okay, honey. You don't need to jump on my neck for it.” 

Spencer rolls his eyes, clicking the pen three times this time. You watch his fingers clenching and unclenching around the pen.  

“Don't call me honey.”  

Blinking up at him innocently, you turn around and say, “sure, honey. I'm gonna go and grab some coffee.” You raise your index finger before leaving the room, interrupting him mid-speech. “For me only, of course.” 

His mug was empty, you had seen as you walked into the room. He had dawned three of those already so of course you said that because you care about his health. Obviously. His scoff as you leave is the icing on the cake. 

By the time he finishes the geographic profile, he finds his mug magically refilled with freshly brewed coffee. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Ambulance] 

“If you had listened to me—” 

“Don't you even fucking start. I have a gash on my forehead. My arm is numb and my knee is throbbing. You really think is wise to come in here and tell me I told you so? Disappear from my sight, now.” 

Those words seem to go on deaf ears because he proceeds to crouch down to survey the damage on your face the paramedic is already assessing. His gaze barely falling on yours until it fixates on your head injury, amber eyes narrowing slightly as they usually did while he is concentrated and is about to sputter out some incredibly intelligent fact.  

He does exactly that.  

“She should have an X-ray of her neck. She's been flinching every time you're turning her head. And a CT scan, she was also hit in the head with a—” 

You groan, not sure if it is because of the stitches or just deep-rooted anger towards your coworker.  

“God— can you please...” You give a begging look to the paramedic, who seems to be having too much fun by the lifted corners of her mouth. 

“— blunt object. Actually, you should be kept for observation for the entire night. Two days if possible.” He glances up at you, who presses your eyes shut instead of glaring, uncomfortable with the way the paramedic touches the sensitive spot on your neck. When you open them again, he's offering her a look of victory. 

“Shut up, Reid.” 

“It's a good idea.” The woman says for your distaste. Of course it is. Of course you agree with him. 

“No, it isn't. I have a flight to catch to get back home and sleep on my comfortable bed, I do not need hospitals or needles or blood.” You intervene, mentally dreading to spend the night alone at a hospital in a city you have never visited. 

“Do you have space for one more?” He questions suddenly, eyeing the inside of the ambulance. Your eyes widen at the implications of his actions. Before you have the chance to smash his head against the floor, he has already climbed into the ambulance, sitting comfortably in a corner.  

You stare in disbelief. The paramedic isn't hiding her amusement anymore. she's outright laughing. 

“Him? Not coming,” you say with finality, aggressively climbing into the ambulance, limping, to lie down on the stretcher.  

However, he does come, rubbing in your face the whole way to the hospital about how right he was about the situation and that you shouldn't throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.  

Hypocrite, as if he didn't do the same thing. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Book] 

“Did you just skip to the end?” Spencer's voice laces with disbelief as he stares holes into the book between your fingers as if you have committed a heinous crime.  

You glance up from him and back to the book briefly. “No?” 

“You're an FBI Agent, you should know by now not to answer a question with a question.” 

“You're an FBI Agent with three PhDs, you should know by now how rude it is to interrupt one's reading.” You send the jab as quick as he had thrown his, rolling your eyes. 

“That doesn't apply if you're skipping to the end of the book—” 

You sigh, tired. “I have to see if the process is worth it.” 

“What?” Spencer shrieks out, switching his gaze from the book to you repeatedly. You press your lips shut, trying to suppress a smile. “What is that supposed to mean? You're supposed to enjoy and get surprised, not know everything—” 

“I'll forget about the end if I start reading it.” Which is true, if you read one part of the story without the context from the previous pages, then your mind just wipes it out as you come back to where you were. You had a bad memory of story plots. 

Spencer proceeds to get more offended by each word that comes out of your mouth. 

“No.” 

You let yourself chuckle this time. “What do you mean—hey!” You hiss as he yanks the book out of your hands, shutting it and hiding it behind him as some kid that's trying to hide his favorite toy so others won't find it. “Give it back, Spencer!” 

“You have to promise me to not read the end.” 

“I don't have to promise you anything.” 

“You want this back?” He waves the book in his hands. Your book. He threatens you with your book. 

You gape at him, then huff petulantly, crossing your arms like a toddler. To anyone who was watching, the both of you looked a lot like children bickering in the park. “Fine.” He offers you a skeptical gaze, narrowing his eyes with a slight scrunch of his nose and you can't help your reaction, really. Your lips twitch in a smile and you bite your cheek so hard it draws blood so you stop being stupid.  

He gives you your book back and pointedly studies your figure as you read, making sure you do not, in fact, skip to the end of the book. 

Spencer Reid is absolutely infuriating. No matter how cute he is. 

━━━━━━━━━ 

[The Drunk Confession] 

“I would've gotten a divorce if you were my secret lover.” You tell Emily with a slurred speech caused by the seven shots and two margaritas — maybe three, you stopped counting at the fourth shot. The table erupts in laughter at your claim. “No doubt.” 

Emily smirks at you, leaning as close as she can across from you, Luke is watching the exchange as if on a tennis match. Garcia slaps his shoulder.  

“Every. Time.” JJ mumbles with a roll of her eyes, turning to Spencer who looks bored out of his mind. “Don't you get tired of seeing them flirting every time they get drunk? It's getting old.” 

Spencer shrugs, a scowl setting on his face as he glances at you and Emily. He looks away.  

“Just ask her out, for god's sake.”  

JJ almost spits her drink. “What?”  

Spencer rolls his eyes, “you. Emily. Date. Do it.” He doesn't really feel like repeating himself again. Spencer doesn't know why he's so annoyed all of a sudden. 

“Well, why don't you do it?” JJ snaps, narrowing her eyes at him, who blinks at her. “Yeah, ask her out instead of judging me like that.” 

“No offense, but I don't see Emily that way.” 

“Of course you don't and I'm not talking about Emily, Spencer,” JJ says pointedly. “You know I'm not.” 

It doesn't take long for all of you to call it a night. The sober ones, at least, because the rest could stay until the morning without complaining, driving themselves to an alcoholic coma. That would have been your case. Fortunately, it isn't.  

And now, Spencer is in charge of driving you home against his will because you live close by.  

Great.  

“I can put on my own seatbelt, thanks.” You frown as he lifts his hand to help you put the seatbelt on. He retracts it with a roll of eyes.  

“Be my guest.” 

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, leaning your head back and closing your eyes as you feel the car being turned on. “Don't worry, m' not gonna puke in your car or whatever.” 

Spencer freezes on his way to changing gears. “Are you feeling sick?” 

“I just told you—” 

He rolls his eyes, “I just meant that driving may make it worse, so if you want, we can wait and then I'll take you home.”  

You open one eye to narrow him down suspiciously. It wasn't that bad. You just had drink a lot, and your body is having a completely normal reaction, though it was a bit annoying. But you don't think you're about to throw up.  

“Careful, you almost sound like you care about my well-being.” 

Spencer drove off the parking lot with a huff, “sure. If you do puke in my car I'll leave you alone in the middle of the avenue.” 

A hiccup came out at the same time as your laugh and it ended up turning into a snort, which was not that graceful and you quickly covered your mouth.  

He gave you a sideways glance and you told him to keep driving, ignoring the twitch on his lips you thought you saw. No, that was definitely not there. 

“You would never do that to me.” 

“Try me.” 

“I can't believe I had a thing for you.” 

“What?” 

He almost had the urge to hit on the brakes but controlled himself. You hummed, watching the trees move as the car drove past them in the avenue. You rolled your window down, leaning your face outside a little, scrunching your nose when droplets of rain poked your nose. 

"Oh, it's gonna rain." 

"It's already raining- what do you mean you had a thing for me? What does that mean?" 

"Are you nervous?" 

"What- No!" He shifted his attention between the road and you quickly. 

You nodded, pretending you believed him and folding your arms across your chest as you leaned back on the seat, closing the car window so you wouldn't get wet.  

“You're kinda my type, Spencer.” 

“I'm- I'm your type— what does that mean?” He insisted and you rolled your eyes with a groan, you wished you were drunker than this. 

“... pretty boy with pretty brown eyes ... smart as hell and has a questionable sense of style. C'mon. It's like you're begging me to fall in love with you." You cleared your throat. "I had a crush on you, as in the past sense." 

Spencer squinted. "You just spoke in the present tense-" 

"Yeah, I knew you were going to focus on that, leave me alone, I'm drunk." 

He pressed his lips together to avoid laughing at your expense.  

"Right." 

How come he never noticed it? He couldn't stop thinking about it.  

“Are you still thinking about it?” 

Spencer turned on your street, biting his cheek. “No.” 

“Why not?”  

He spun his neck to look at you and almost drove into the sidewalk, which made you huff out a laugh.  

“Careful, genius. You might crash us because you figure out somebody has a crush on you.” 

Spencer scoffed, turning the engine off to glance at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You just spoke in the present tense again.” 

Shrugging, you leaned back on the seat, sideways to stare at him, a little smile playing on your lips because you were enjoying the banter too much.  

“Did I?” 

“Yes.” he frowned and his nose scrunched in the cutest way possible you just felt like biting it.  

“It started when I saw you in glasses.” You admitted, nails scratching against your jeans distractedly. “You were like a knock-off Peter Parker, just cuter and way more attractive.” 

He scowled at you but you were able to see the clear pink cheeks he had acquired upon being called attractive. You weren't lying. The biggest lie and cruelty of this world was that Spencer Reid wasn't looked at twice by girls or boys. You would've been fanning over him at high school. 

“You're mocking me,” he concluded. 

You denied with a hum from deep within your throat. “Nu-huh. I'm not.” 

His eyes analyse every micro expression of your face and you stare as he does so. His lips twitch before he speaks and your eyes fall on them. 

“We're here.” 

He chose to say instead, his brain on slow thinking mode as you stared at him like you were contemplating something in your head. 

“You want me to go?” 

Spencer blinks up at you, big brown eyes wide as a deer caught in headlights, the corner of your mouth lifts upwards slightly. 

“What do you mean? I gave you a ride.” He replied, confusedly. “Do you need help to go up to your apartment? Are you dizzy?” 

“Not dizzy.” You shifted, pulling your knees up to hold them. Shoes off ever since you entered his car. “It was just a question.” 

“Are you testing me?” 

You tilted your head, causing a few strands of your hair to be released from behind your ear as you rummaged through his glove box. A book — of course there was a book in there —, a lens cleaner spray — you wondered if he still used his glasses, just not on the field —, two hair ties — you lift a brow at that — and lastly, his license and vehicle registration — you smile at the picture. He snatched it out of your hand to pull it back on the glove box and close it.  

“Why would I be testing you?” 

“To make fun of me.” 

Your eyes narrowed in slits.  

“I don't like making fun of people, less alone you.” 

Spencer held your stare for a hot second before he leaned back on his seat with a sigh.  

You poked his hip, laughing when he jumped in surprise.  

“You're so cute.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Calling you cute or tickling you?” 

“Both!” He shrieked out, holding your hand as you attempted to tickle him again. You adjusted yourself on the seat, studying the way he seemed intrigued by your hand. Or the fact he hadn't let go of it. “I can help you up to your apartment, ” he said after a moment of silence, something stirring in his stomach at the way you were looking at him.  

"You want to help me up to my apartment?" Now you are just riling him up for the sake of it. You hold his hand before he can let go of yours, a smirk dancing around your lips. "Sorry, I'll stop." 

"You're so annoying,"  

"You think so?" Your voice is low, careful. You lean forward slightly. 

"Yes," he says with uncertainty. He lifts his other hand slowly, brushing your hair behind your ear because it kept falling on your cheek.  

Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you swallow hard, shivering as his fingers trail down your cheek. "Spencer." 

"Mhm?" He's not paying attention to what you're saying, too busy entranced by your lips to do anything else. You just wish he'd pull both of you out of your misery. Since he doesn't move, you take matters into your own hands and break the gap between the two of you. His breath halts and he takes one or two seconds to reciprocate the kiss, lips parting in surprise. You bask in the effect that you have on him before he pulls you in by the back of your neck and it's your turn to react surprised by his actions. Your back arches and a sound of contentment escapes your throat when his fingers press against your thigh.  

You're straddling his lap in no time, his hands all over your body. You lower your lips to his neck, nibbling at his skin, satisfied with the moan he lets out in response to your touch.  

Spencer says your name once. Twice. It's the third time that you actually hear him.  

"What?" 

"You're drunk," he breathes out, chest going up and down unsteadily. "We should- we should stop." 

"I'm not drunk." You tilt your head, tracing his swollen lower lip with your thumb.  

He chuckles nervously, grabbing your hands to pull it away from his neck and his neck so he could think straight for five minutes. "You are. You taste like tequila." 

"Mhm, is that so?" 

He groans, eyes dropping shut. "Don't do that." 

Your smile widens into a menacing grin.  

"Do what, genius?" 

"This. You. You know what you're doing." Spencer insists half-heartedly, eyes fluttering open to stare at you. He can't help but stare down at your lips again, letting out a sigh.  

Finally, your shoulders slump in dissatisfaction as you realize he wouldn't want to go forward as long as you have an ounce of alcohol in your blood.  

"Who's annoying now?" You mumble, burying your head on his shoulders. His fingers trail up and down your bare arms, his hands then settle on your hip, drawing invisible circles there. You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. "You're gonna be the death of me," you whine, wrapping both arms around his middle. Spencer shakes with a chuckle and you smile into his skin.  

There is no going back from this. You either screwed up your professional relationship or just initiated something really good.  

You don't know which one is worse. 

He goes up to your floor with you and you expect him to say goodbye as you step out of the elevator. He follows you to your door and finds the key in your purse that you had spent more than a minute trying to find it.  

"You want to stay over?" You eye him, trying to sound nonchalant but in reality, you are expecting a yes.  

It's not what you get. 

"No." You conclude you screwed up your whole dynamic. He holds your wrist before you walk in and leave him in the hallway, pulling you back and cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours in a rather gentle and less frantic kiss than the ones you had just shared in the car. "Ask me when you're not drunk," he mumbles into your lips and you frown when he withdraws himself from you.  

You understand his reasoning, but that doesn't mean you enjoy the thought of spending the night without him, finishing what you started.  

"Will you want to stay over then?" 

Spencer knows what you mean. You're asking if he will want to stay over after tonight, after the moment has passed and it's another day, or if he wants to forget and pretend it never happened.  

"Yes." He doesn't hesitate, kissing your forehead before he takes a step back, ready to leave but not wanting to with the image of you leaning against your doorway, face slightly flushed after your make-out session. "Goodnight." 

You munch on your lower lip, opening the door to go inside. He waits for you to close it but you walk out again, his eyes widening as you pull him into another kiss. Just as he's about to place his hands on your waist, you pull back, patting his chest.  

"You're still annoying." You say, stepping back to enter your apartment, leaving him completely unresponsive in the middle of your hallway for a few minutes.  

God, he hates you.  

━━━━━━━━━ 

taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; @hoeshissworld ; @r-3dlips ; @pleasantwitchgarden 

[suncoved]

SALTWATER BLUES ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂ𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ

the prologue — rafe cameron

pairing; childhoodbestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: she left him. in that house. in that town. alone. and he's never gonna let her forget it.

series masterlist!

The sun shone through the passenger seat window of your dad's driver, Al's, pristine black Porsche, burning your ear and face while you sat there allowing the pain to simmer.

You made no effort to move as the perfect houses of Figure 8 blended together to make one as your head span with the constant turning of the car. You hummed quietly as Al seemed to be saying many words, none of which made any sense in your current state.

As soon as you got off the plane to the mainland, boarded the ferry to Kildare, and met Al at the dock, it all seemed like a fever dream. A saltwater haze glossed itself over your eyes and mind as if nothing made sense to you anymore.

It was like it was only yesterday that your mom decided she had enough of having the responsibility of taking care of her daughter and was going to ship you off to your dad who hadn't seen you since you were 13, because well it was.

It was only yesterday.

6 years. It had been 6 years since you had been to The Outerbanks. 6 years since you had been to your hometown. 6 years since a certain dirty blonde-haired boy had watched his word slip through his hands like grains of sand through his fingertips.

Rafe Cameron wasn't Rafe Cameron without you. He had simply never known life without you. He hadn't even remembered anything of his life before you, albeit it was less than a year, but he knew. He knew that without you, he was simply a shell of a human being, soulless almost.

Ever since that fateful day that thirteen-year-old rafe had slammed the door to Tannyhill and ran the 20 or so meters to your neighbouring house.

He knocked on the door with the sequence of the secret passcode you both made up when you were six, even though you would never tell him you forgot it the day you made it up. Rafe pulled his balled fist back as the white door opened suddenly like someone was waiting for him.

He didn't understand why your father was at the door, he knew Rafe would also come to your house at this time every day in summer to come play.

"She's not here Rafe" Sincerity was laced in your father's tone as he looked down at the confused boy. "Where is she? I don't understand."

"Gone, kid. I'm sorry."

You were snapped back into consciousness as you heard the crunching of the gravel under the car, your father's home coming into full view in front of you. You knew you were about to draw blood from your bottom lip that you had been gnawing at ever since you arrived.

"Welcome home!"

You stood in the middle of your childhood home's doorframe, slightly jumping when your father popped out from the hallways that led to the lobby, enthusiastically yelling. You glanced around the foyer, bright words written on a banner etching 'Welcome Home!", with balloons and confetti scattered across the floor.

For a split second, you felt peace wash over you, though it was soon to be replaced by worry and anxiety.

"I missed you Bee" your father spoke, his arms engulfing your body as waves of memories were brought back from the childhood nickname. She was quick to hug back "I missed you too Dad" You couldn't help your mouth curling into a smile as you let go.

"Can I go up to my room and put my things away?" Your father waved his hand in reply, pointing towards the stairs before smiling and following Al out to the car to help with some of your stuff.

Being back in your room felt weird, though the balcony flashed in your eyes, an addition you had completely forgotten about. Dropping your bags in anticipation, you rushed to the glass doors, sliding them open. You had always loved the view of the outer banks, the glistening of the ocean and the sun that set upon the sky.

Your eyes locked on the large windows of the house in front of yours, a room that was far too familiar staring back at you. A messy bedroom was fully in your line of sight, the curtains not even slightly drawn.

Your eyes widened when you remembered who actually lived there, three boys walking into the space who you identified to be the trio that you had spent nearly all of your childhood with, Topper, Kelce and Rafe Cameron.

You quickly began to turn and walk back inside of your room, falling straight on your bed. Pulling one of your pillows to your face, you let out a loud groan into the fabric.

"Suck it up" you whispered to yourself, wiping away the salty tears that were now rolling down your face, as the memories flooded back.

You returned your gaze back to the balcony, standing up and walking over to the door. pausing for a moment, you contemplated whether or not it was worth it if Rafe saw you. You leaned your head against the door, sliding down the glass.

Though after everything, you were back in the obx, and there was nothing you could do about it. You just hoped you hadn't left too much damage on the teary-eyed dirty blonde you had left behind.

[mayamidnightmelody]

Art of Bill Medcalf

William Edward (Bill) Medcalf (1920 - 2005)

Bill Medcalf was totally ahead of his time with his pin-up art! 😍 Like, imagine these super cute paintings from back in the day that are still iconic AF today! He was all about capturing these bombshell babes in their element, rockin' those retro vibes like nobody else. His style was on point, blending realism with a touch of fantasy, making you wish you could step into those scenes! 🎨

Each painting by Medcalf is like a glimpse into this fantasy world where everything's glamorous and sassy. His babes are always so confident and playful, showing off those killer curves and making you go, "Wow!" He had this knack for detail, every brushstroke making these gals look alive and full of personality. 🌟

One thing you can't miss about Medcalf's work is how he nailed those vintage vibes. Think about it: those retro hairstyles, the fashion that's now back in trend, and those smoldering expressions that say, "I know I'm hot." It's like stepping into a time machine where beauty standards were all about class and sass! 💃

His drawing style? Flawless. The way he could capture the human form, especially the female figure, was legendary. Smooth lines, delicate shading, and colors that pop like they're straight out of a modern fashion mag. It's like he painted these pin-ups to be timeless, always keeping them fresh and relevant. 🖌️

And let's not forget the themes he explored! From beach babes soaking up the sun to sultry sirens lounging in luxurious settings, Medcalf covered it all. He knew how to make art that speaks to your soul and your sense of style, no matter what decade you're in. 😎

Even today, Medcalf's paintings are poppin' on social media and inspiring new artists. People are still vibing with his style because it's not just about the beauty, it's about the attitude. His work is like a mood board for confidence and self-expression, reminding us to own our uniqueness and flaunt it! 🌈

So yeah, Bill Medcalf wasn't just an artist. He was a vibe curator, a trendsetter of his time, and a total legend in the pin-up scene. His legacy lives on through every cheeky smile and every perfectly painted eyelash. Cheers to keeping art spicy and iconic! 🎉

[no-pants-dan]

Anyway, here's what I'm working on right now

Hand for scale

This pattern is fun and I'd like to try it on some thicker yarn for something really blocky. I'm starting to get into the rhythm of an even beat, but it's tricky with such thin, high contrast yarn because everything stands out so much.

8/2 cotton at 22 epi for some Christmas dish towels. When I do this again, I'll do 24 epi because the thread is finer than I realized. Truthfully, I misrememberd the size we used for the class I took in the spring and just...did not verify before ordering. Oh well! I'm curious about how these will wash up-- so far I'm worried they're too fine to feel very towel-y. But I've got a whole bunch now so I guess I'll just have to figured something out! I think the next thing I will try is a waffle texture. I'm thinking that'll help make the towels thicker and more substantial.

Here's my sampling section:

It turns out that all the patterns for the towels I planned to weave on this warp just do not work the way I was hoping. The birdseye and zigzag are fine, but I have to go back to the drawing board on this one.

[marleemutt]

TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

[mynicknameisgasoline]

Incorrect Quotes 1/4

okay so maybe i write a little bit

1.

y/n: So are we flirting right now? Five: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU y/n: That doesn’t answer my question

2.

y/n: Sorry it took me so long to bail you out of jail Klaus: No it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have used my one phone call to prank call the police

3.

y/n: I CAN'T DO IT! Klaus, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Diego: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. y/n: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Viktor: y/n- y/n: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Lila: y/n we gotta- y/n: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' y/n, motioning to season 3 allison: NOT FUCKING THIS

4.

y/n: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it Klaus: Just rip the bandage off. y/n: It’s sparrow ben Klaus: Put the bandage back on.

5.

Luther: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Five: I'm a knife. y/n, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

6.

Klaus: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? y/n: The car takes a screenshot. Five: For the last time, get the fuck out.

7.

y/n: Ben, I'm sad. Ben: *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay. Klaus: Ben, I'm sad. Ben, nodding: mood.

8.

'Can I copy the homework?' Five: No. y/n: Yeah, sure. Klaus: Bold of you to assume I did the homework. Diego: lol nope. Lila: Wait, we had homework?!?!?! Vanya: *Read 5:55pm*

9.

Allison: y/n... How do I begin to explain y/n? Klaus: y/n is flawless. Lila: I hear their hair's insured for $10,000. Luther: I hear they do car commercials... in Japan. Five, muttering: One time they punched me in the face... it was awesome.

10.

y.n: Rules are made to be broken. Five: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Klaus: Uh, piñatas. Diego: Glow sticks. Lila: Karate boards. Vanya: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. y/n: Rules. Five: ...

[officialrocketjumper]

HOWDY EVERYONE- so excited to FINALLY be able to show off my piece for this year's Bumbleby Big Bang!

Unfortunately no accompanying story as of yet- but I really hope you guys get to read it someday! The premise involves Yang cursed to be trapped inside a sword, which was an idea I KNEW I had to make move.

Details and development stuff under the cut!

Lots of fun collaboration with the author, Celeste! We worked together to find the look-of-picture, Blake's outfit, how the Grimm look, the style of the sword, the whole shabang! I'm really happy with how it all turned out!

When I first saw all the prompts, even before claims opened, I got to work on a handful of exploration pieces based on some of the summaries, to decide which of the stories I was interested in would be the best fit. Here's the initial idea for this one I put together over a lunch break:

After showing Celeste, we got to work finding the look we wanted! Went back and forth a bit and found this great look for Blake! Also shoutout to Pinterest boards for visdev inspiration I love you Pinterest boards.

Just about everything stayed to final anim, with the simplification of getting rid of that purple cloth hanging from her belt, (since I already had the rope ends to think about working with), and the light purple strap across the chest, since leaving it out would simplify the linework on her chest.

The sword also went through a bit of change! Celeste had the idea of Yang making the sword catch on fire, which I LOVED. I went with a split design so we can see the fire more clearly start from the hilt and grow to cover the whole blade.

And from there we brainstormed animation ideas! I went all over Youtube for video reference of sword work (that would be complex enough to be interesting, but short enough to be manageable). I found something we liked from Motion Actor Inc., a channel I've used LOTS for both personal and professional work (I work in 3D Animation, for those who don't know). I edited this together, to see the action from multiple places at once, which gave me the idea for that camera move that's in the final anim!

Now for the fun part! Make that badboy MOVE. For the cam turn, the first frame she's in the air I'm referencing the top left video, and the frame she lands I'm referencing the bottom left one. While she's airborne I'm just inbetweening that! No reference for the Grimm, just wanted it responding to her attacks, but I end up tweaking the roughs later on to make the block feel stronger.

Then from there we had to actually figure out Grimm designs! Nimona had just released, and Celeste and I loved it, so she asked if I could take some inspiration from Nimona's shadow form! GLADLY. Here's what I came up with!

I was going between how the movies and comic designed Nimona, really loving the almost liquid shadow of the movie, but also how the comics had this broken up/held together rougher form. Celeste liked the second to last one the best! The original plan was to have it leave a wispy shadow trail like the concept art, but to simplify the animation we left it solid instead!

Next up is tiedown! Basically just getting the roughs more on-model, so the lineart comes out nice and clean. I've also transferred the new Grimm design to the base from earlier, and fire's also outlined orange so it reads clearer. (SPOILER- if you look REAL close here, you can see Yang visible in the fire! I liked the idea of Blake's slash also doubling as Yang throwing a punch. The idea is in the concept art earlier but now it's working with the action.)

Next step- final look of picture!! I asked Celeste for sources of inspiration to draw from when thinking about environment design, and we got Nimona, She-Ra, and Owl House! Used each of those as springboards for shading style, colour palettes, and how the fire would look!

From there, we kept the straight trees/bush/lake/foreground greenery from the first one, the blues from the second, and the fire from the third!

Once I had this frame, it was a matter of working backwards and making the background work pre-camera turn (which was ABSOLUTELY the most challenging part of this process). Learned a lot doing this! Procreate isn't quite equipped to make something like this efficient, but I'm pleased to say that Dreams would make something like this easier in the future (keyframing objects instead of hand-drawing/spacing duplicates by hand, for example).

From then on it was just colouring the lineart, adding shading, and finishing up the background! Beginning-to-end this whole process was beginning of July to end of October!

I had an absolute BLAST putting all this together. Here's to next year where I find a way to do something even more ridiculously complicated!! It's fun!!!

[brucewaynehater101]

I know that when the sun is up i shouldn't;t be and all but lets ingore that and all the following typos.

so i saw the prompt about tim arranging everything before he left to go on a very long vacation in all of his identities (which is a long list) and then likely can't be contacted since he's so far away now while taking a bunch of cold files with him.

i'm just wonderin what that must look like to the bats yk? like tim got all his affairs in order then suddenly is unreachable? bats are trained to expect the worst which leads to them thinking that tim took a bunch of cold cases that are somehow connected, got in over his head, and croaked.

cue the bats trying to figure out how the cold cases were connected, solving many of them along the way, and just scrambling to figure out what happened to tim meanwhile he's just getting his cheeks pinched until they're pink by his citizens who coo at their fearless baby overlord while yj snickers by his side as body guards/consorts/advisors.

tim coming back who knows how long later and just wants to compare the results that he got on the cold cases he solved to the ones that they solved like it's a book club. he didn;t even die guys come on you didn't even have a body this time. you know death isn[t real

idk if this makes any sensse but take my sleep deprived rambles. will check back later to see if autovoored had my back or if it gave me the caesar treatment :p

Hullo!

It does make sense. I can also see all of the Bats (minus Tim), and they've pulled out multiple rollable whiteboards and corkboards. They are gathered around a table as they debate what the hell is going on.

Bruce is just glaring at one of the boards.

Duke, because they've been at this for eleven days now, is drawing mustaches on suspect photos.

Dick is standing up with his hands on the table as he tries to give the seventeenth pep talk.

Jason has his feet on the table and isn't bothering to hide the fact that he's taking a nap.

Cass is trying to balance objects on Jason as he sleeps.

Steph is working her way through the cases and is currently putting up another detail she's noticed.

Damian has somehow managed to hide batcow under the table and keeps sliding snacks to her.

[autismprotocol]

TMAGP Theory Board ( EP 10)

Hi guys sorry for the late post I ended up drawing a lot for this update especially because it's the last one before the hiatus so wanted to give it a little more pizazz :D

What Happened in Episode 10: Saturday Night

Interview with Nigel Dickerson. The inccident report this week was all about Mr Bonzo. If you remember from last episode Nigel is the famous tv personality who created the character of Mr Bonzo. During this interview he recounts the rise and fall of Bonzo while being ominous and on edge the whole time. what I gathered from the interveiw is that Bonzo is either trapping Nigel or Bonzo and Nigel are linked somehow. (when he say "he won't let me leave" and refers to himself as "us") we also learn about the murders that are connected to the Bonzo suit, first by the serial killer Terrance Menki and very recently 3 unsolved murders. Nigel also mentioned that the actors who wore the Bonzo suit would be prone to injuries on set which is also really stange. Could be they were used as Bonzo's victims near his begining

Gwen meets Mr Bonzo. The other section of the episode dealing with Bonzo is when Gwen goes to Nigel's house on her first assignment as the Externals Liason. So turns out Bonzo is maybe a hitman for the OIAR! Also, big thing Mr Bonzo is atually alive and is introduced with some kind of practice almost resembling a ritual. I heard somone mention they think Bonzo is an avatar of the Stranger and I can definitely see this. I'd love to hear if anyone else has a theory for what entity Bonzo may be connected to.

The Return of Colin. Colin isn't dead!! Shocking absolutley everyone Colin is still kicking. a few episodes ago he was sent on mental health leave by Lena after his parnoia caused him to mentally snap. Celia sees him while on break and they have a short convorsation. Colin tells Celia that he need to figure out the computers. also big thing Colin is back without the permission of Lena. It will be interesting to see what hes looking for and if he'll continue to sneak behind Lena's back.

Sam and Alice's Adventures into the Institute. Probaly the biggest development lore-wise was Sams and Alice investigating the ruins of the Magnus Institute. They don't find much (but I'm still am gonna talk about it for awhile) Alice mentions that there were weird carvings in the floor which she later equates to the worms on the ground. If you are a Archives listener hearing about worms in the archives starts seting off all kinds of alarms. This means in this universe the Jane Prentiss attack still happens, which is especcially iteresting because If I'm not mistaken in TMA the worm attack happened spesiffically to mark Jon with the corruption. Was Jon ever part of the institute? or if not Jon there must have been an archivist role in this Magnus Institute that would require Jane to attack it.

ERROR and the Tape Recorders so far in protocol we have been listening to the characters through either the computers or though their phones. But during the last few minutes we here the click of a tape recorder. and TMA fans around the world rejoiced. The magnus archives is entirley told through tape recordings and are a tool used by the web (spesifically the avatar Annabelle Cane) does this mean Annabelle made it to this universe? or it could also signal the presense of Jon (since the tape recorders are linked to him) Alice and Sam investigate the archivist office looking for a place for the key when the floor collapes and Sam drops the key. After some Sam and Alice banter, they leave but the recorder stays running we then hear the scraping sound and some shutterd breathing. This is when I highly suggest going through the transcript after listening to an episode becuase they specifically what were hearing and who is breathing.

I included the snippet from the transcript that pinpoints every not verbal sound we hear

water from the pit under the archives is disturbed

thud on wood then a rattle of a padlock

Key being dragged across the wood then fumbled into a lock that clicks open

trapdoor opens and ERROR imerges

ERROR takes 3 breaths

ERROR has been used before for redacting the roles played by Johnny, Alex and Tim (aka the voices of FR3-d1) during the cast anouncements for protocol. This makes me think that ERROR must be someone from the Archives universe my running theory is that it is a entity that houses Jon, Martin and Jonah's souls or consiounous. but It could literally be anyone. I'm also thinking ERROR has been locked in the tunnels under the archives (Mentioned in TMA)

And thats about Everything! plese let me know your thoughts or if you wanna correct me on any mistakes :)

Also I would love to know if you guys would prefer this style of post where I illustrate moments and scenes from each episode? it would probably delay when I'm able to post the breakdowns but I'd love to know if you guys perfer that format over the less illustrated one.

[yayakoishii]

Lucky | Sanji x Chubby!Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Could be considered a part 2 to Want but can be read (and is written as a) stand-alone!

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst, Fluff??

Warnings: Insecurity about stretch marks, mentions of/implications of (but not explicit) sex so Read At Your Own Discretion, low self esteem, etc.

A/n: I'm not the type of person to write about things that are personal to me, tbh, but this idea played around in my head. I know you can have stretch marks from a variety of reasons but I wrote my own, and I would just like to remind everyone that they're normal. You're absolutely gorgeous as you are, my lovelies. I hope you enjoy this little fic ♡

also available on ao3!

Sanji felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

When Sanji and you had finally got together, he couldn't believe it. It felt unreal to have you reciprocate his feelings, to have you look at him shyly but with warm eyes that made him feel seen and heard– and he was ready to swear over his life to you, holding back only so as to not freak you out. Unlike his usual grand confessions, you were more important to him, a person he could not even take the risk of driving away. If you found him clingy, or obsessive, and he lost you… somehow, even the thought of that made him feel like someone was stabbing at his heart with a fork, over and over.

And he was ready to take this relationship at your pace. Whatever you were ready to offer him, he would gladly take it. Even if you wanted to wait to have sex until you were married, he would gladly do it simply because he was already head over heels in love with you. It scared him a little, when he was by himself in the confines of dark nights, just how much he was ready to sacrifice for a shred of your pure heart. To have you around him as long as the world would let him… The fact that you never hesitated to showcase your love, though you were shy in public, made his heart soar. He never had to wait for anything – except maybe sex.

The problem though, seemed to be something else.

It's not like you didn't want it. Clearly, going by the number of times the two of you had engaged in heavy make out sessions that seemed to lead towards it eventually, you were as affected by him as he was by you. But everytime that happened, your eyes would suddenly lose their drunken haze and shift back into a sort of nervousness and sadness that made Sanji feel helpless. You would stop after that, drawing back into your shell, wrapping your arms around your body and blocking him out.

He took it easy. Sanji didn't want to push you into talking until you were ready, and he certainly didn't want you to feel that a relationship without sex wasn't on the table. So he waited, giving you time to talk about it yourself; it was no good. If anything, you got quieter over time, hesitating even more around him.

It drove him crazy, and he would have questioned if you truly did like him if it wasn't for the fact that you maintained all other aspects of physical intimacy. There was no hesitation when it came to giving him hugs or kisses or affirmations of how in love you were with him, whenever he felt vulnerable and insecure. And that was what made him wonder; were you struggling with your own insecurities of some sort?

It didn't make sense to him that someone as perfect as you should find anything to fault in yourself, but after all, his lens of love was not to be compared with the harsh critics that were your own eyes and mind. He knew you were hesitant of your own body, its curves and how it was different from the slender figures of the other ladies on board and on land.

In Sanji's eyes, you were perfect as you were– soft and warm in all the right places, with a kind and caring personality. There was nothing about you that he didn't love and nothing that he found ugly, yet he didn't quite know how to make you believe him.

It wasn't even that you hated your body. He had seen you have confidence at times, but he had also seen it waver when it came to rude comments or just general low moods. You had your moments of low self-esteem but even in those moments, Sanji found himself a slave of your beauty. No, a devotee would be a better word. He wanted to worship you and your body as you deserved and yet, all his plans were thwarted every time you stopped in the middle of an escalating make out session to give him a small smile and come up with some random excuse to leave.

You were all that he wanted, and he was determined to let you know just what you looked like through his eyes. Sanji's chance came sooner than he had thought, the very night of when he made the resolution.

You lingered around in the kitchen after dinner, humming a song shyly after Sanji had insisted. When he was done with the dishes, you had helped him put them back despite his protests.

"Join me, my love?" He had asked as the two of you stepped out of the kitchen. He had to lock it and he waited for your answer as he did so. You were silent for a while before you spoke up.

"Oh, Sanji, um," you hesitated, clearly overthinking and worried that if you declined then it would be in bad taste but clearly also hesitant of what he was hoping for. "I, I actually…"

"Nothing that you don't want will happen, sweetheart," Sanji said quietly, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. "I just want to spend some time with you."

"Oh!" You suddenly looked relieved and Sanji's heart clenched. Were you really afraid that he would force you to do something you weren't comfortable with? "Sure Sanji, I would love that too."

He held your hand in his as you walked to his room. Only once you were inside and he had closed the door behind him, did he speak.

"Sweetheart," he called out when you had settled comfortably on his bed. You looked up at him curiously. "Is it okay if I ask you something?"

You were quiet for a second, not unlike how you got when the sexual tension between you would get high. You clearly knew what he was getting to. Sanji waited until you nodded to move in closer to sit across from you.

"I just want to put this on the table before I ask," Sanji searched your eyes for something. "This relationship will always go at your pace. I do not mind waiting as long as you need me to, or even forever, if that is what you want. But what I want is for you to be comfortable and open with me. To tell me if something is bothering you. To be vulnerable with me, because you trust me. Is that alright, my love?"

"Of course, Sanji," you inched closer to him, a hand reaching out to take his. He let you, and brushed his knuckles against the inside of your wrist, watching you squirm at how it tickled.

"Do you not want to have sex with me, sweetheart?" He asked clearly. You flinched at that, and he could see the torment you were facing bubble up to the surface. "It's alright, love. Just tell me what you really think. I understand if I'm not appealing in th–"

"No!" You interrupted, looking at him with a pout. "It's not that. God, Sanji, you drive me insane all the time. I would have to be blind to not appreciate your figure."

"Then is it something else?" He asked seriously, hand now coming up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, giving him a sad smile.

"Of course I want to… do it with you," you flushed, embarrassed at having to say that aloud. "I want it but… I don't want you to see me."

"You don't want me… to see you?" Sanji repeated, unsure of what you meant. Your hand came up to hold his where it rested on your cheek.

"I… have stretch marks," you looked embarrassed. "Maybe it's stupid to you– it probably is, but I know it's not what is considered appealing. I know I'm… not as slender as you might prefer, and I'm just… scared that you would look at me and feel disgusted. Feel like you made a mistake and break us off. I know!" You stressed it when Sanji looked like he was about to say something, "I know that you're kinder than that. But I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you looking at me with disgust. I don't care about my stretch marks but when I think of you seeing them… I feel like I would rather die."

"Shh," Sanji shook his head, upset at your words. "What are you saying, my love? As if something like that is enough to shake my love for you. I can't even begin to tell you where my love for you begins or where it ends, because it's fathomless and so much that it scares even me. Any marks on your body are a part of you. I'm sure even they are as beautiful as the rest of you."

"Really?" Your voice was meek, wanting reassurance but also not wanting to be burdensome.

"Let me show it to you," he whispered, gently lowering you onto your back. The action made your shirt ride up a little, revealing the white and red marks. You squirmed and raised your head to see what Sanji planned to do.

A gasp left your lips when he placed a soft peck on one, marking the path to the next without lifting his lips. The action tickled you and a warmth pooled into your gut, along with the understanding that Sanji would never be disgusted by you or your marks. He would love every inch of you.

"They are like lightning," he whispered into your skin, warm breath fanning the cool surface, causing you to shiver. "Like pathways mapping the surface of the temple of the goddess I worship. Like waves crashing into the ocean, for me to appreciate, along with every part of you. I could never hate them, or you, sweetheart. Every part of you is meant to be worshipped, to be sung prai–"

"Alright," you choked, feeling overwhelmed. He kissed you in between as he spoke, careful never to move downwards or to make the act sexual. Every part of it felt like he was whispering and etching reminders of his love into your skin, like carefully tucked in notes in the folds of your flesh. "Sanji. Sanji, come up here."

He hovered above you for a few seconds, blue eyes misty with want before he gently lowered himself next to you on his bed. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you cupped his cheeks and took in every inch of his face, took in the blonde hair falling into his eye– and couldn't help but think.

"Heavens, I love you more and more each day, Sanji."

Think that contrary to what he believed, the lucky one was actually you.

[yokohamapound]

BSD Boys With a Nervous Flier S/O

For Amulet! <3

(I added Chuuya for me. :P)

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: NSFW jokes/references, fear of flying.

Dazai Osamu

Don’t bother trying to hide it. Dazai can pick up on every tiny little tell, so unless you’ve got the world’s best poker face, he’ll figure it out before you say a single word. It’s all there, the shrunken pupils when he shows you the tickets, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants when you’re booking the taxi to the airport, the harsh, unsteady breathing when you’re queueing to check in. 

For once, wisely, he drops the double suicide jokes. The last thing you need to think about right now is you or him dying, and he’s that much of an ass. Most of the time.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, leaning in and whispering in your ear so it doesn’t carry to the other passengers in the boarding queue. “Guess what?”

You frown, distracted momentarily, and look at him. “What?”

His eyes glitter with mischief, and his smile widens into a full blown smirk. “You know how your ears sometimes pop when the cabin pressure changes? They say you should have chew gum or suck on candy.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicious. Dazai leans down to look into your eyes, grinning. 

“I don’t have any candy, but I’ve got something you can su—oww!”

He deserved to have his foot trodden on, really. Dazai might pout, but internally he’s smug that his plan to distract you worked. He’s got plenty more like that up his sleeve. 

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Flying with Fyodor is something different entirely. With the weight (and wallet) of the Decay of Angels behind him, he would never fly on a commercial airline. Normally he doesn’t care much - he’ll take a helicopter or some other type of solo plane. If he’s taking his precious myshka though, he’s flying in style. 

Naturally, he already knows about your fear of flying.

You can take comfort in the fact that Fyodor has literally already thought of everything. There are multiple contingency plans for any conceivable emergency onboard the jet. He has a backup helicopter. There are parachutes. There are backup parachutes. 

All you have to do is get dolled up and sit pretty on one of the luxurious recliner seats, being fed little tidbits of fruit and cake and sipping champagne. Fyodor has his laptop out, watching the endless screeds of incomprehensible information, one resting on your thigh, thumb tracing circles into your warm, soft skin. 

If you want a sedative, he’ll allow it, though his tone is subtly disapproving. He doesn’t like seeing you passed out (unless he’s been the one to drug you or exhaust you, naturally.) Still, if it makes you feel better.

He has…other methods to distract you however. Ones you’ll learn all about when he orders the cabin crew out of the main seating area and draws the curtains. You’ll be flying so high you might not even notice you’ve landed. 

Edogawa Ranpo

Ranpo has an easy solution to all your fears and anxieties—he’s such a baby that you have to look after him and you just won’t have time to worry about the plane going down, because you’ll be trying to convince him he can’t cram a whole gumball machine in his suitcase.

“It’ll fit!”

“You know it won’t! It’s physically impossible. You’re supposed to be a genius!”

“Well, I'm on vacation!”

He’s exuberant and excited to wander through Duty Free and buy all the varieties of chocolate and snacks they sell. Ranpo isn’t getting on that plane without snacks. Have you eaten plane food? That’s simply not going to cut it for the World’s Greatest Detective. 

It’s almost…calculated, the way he seems to rush off to a new thing every time your jitters start coming back. Your heart starts to race, your mouth goes dry, and then you notice Ranpo is gone from your side again. 

By the time you get onto the actual plane, you’re lowkey exhausted, and he still looks as smug as ever, his bag of chips rustling as he snacks in his seat. He opens his eyes, looks around the plane with that sharp, green gaze, then shrugs and settles against the backrest. 

“Nothing wrong with the plane, we’ll be fine,” he declares, tossing a chip into his mouth. “Do you think they have Ramune?”

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya is a well-travelled guy due to his position as a Port Mafia executive and enforcer. It seems as if he gets sent abroad now and then to look after the mafia’s foreign interests and contracts. Koyo seems to stay back more, acting as Mori’s advisor, so it’s Chuuya who racks up the airmiles. He generally travels first or business class, because he’s not about to be back in the cattle runs—sorry, economy. 

He’s so used to it by now that booking the flights, packing, and getting to the airport are a breeze. It’s so mundane to him that he’s a little surprised to find out how frightened you are. He has to admit, it’s kinda cute. 

He lounges next to you in your first class seats, a glass of wine in one hand and your hip in the other, cuddling you against his side. 

“Dollface, what’re you shakin’ for?” he teases, poking you in the ribs. “You forgettin’ who you’re flyin’ with?”

Oh. That’s right. Mr. Gravity Master himself. 

“So if something happens, you could stop the plane falling?” you ask, almost in disbelief. 

He scoffs. “What do you take me for? You’re gonna be on the safest flight in existence. They should be paying me to fly.”

[hollyoongs]

˗ˏˋ 𝝡𝝪ꓴ𝖭𝗚ᒍ𝖠𝗘'𝗦 ᒍ𝝤ꓴ𝙍𝖭𝖠𝗟 (𝗇𝗼t 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖺𝙧𝘆!!!) || M.J.H

—0.1: dear journal, i don't like her!

ᨓ 。bnd myungjae × fem reader ꒰🍭꒱﹕teeth rooting fluff ﹕489 words

𝙨𝗂𝗇𝗼𝗽𝙨𝗂𝙨

Jungkook didn't know what to do; he tried everything to tone down his son's energetic behavior after countless teacher's notes, but when he saw how his son loved to write him appreciation letters ever since he learned how to write (and how calm he stayed for more than five minutes), the idea of a diary came to his mind. But he didn't know that his son would love that journal (his son's words) so much to even write about his first love, but also how much she hated that girl with pigtails and a beautiful smile who didn't share some of her crayons with him.

The next day, Jungkook took Jaehyun to kindergarten, being greeted by Taehyung with a smile.

“Morning, Jungkook-ah! Jaehyun, ready for another day of adventure?” Taehyung asked cheerfully as Jaehyun bounded past them, already excitedly chatting with his classmates.

Jungkook chuckled, giving his best friend a quick nod. “I’m not sure he ever stops being ready. It’s like his energy never runs out.”

As they stood watching Jaehyun make his way into the classroom, Jungkook’s thoughts wandered back to the notebook. Last night had been a surprising success; after a little convincing, Jaehyun had spent a good fifteen minutes writing and drawing in it before bed, a rare moment of calm that Jungkook savored. It felt like a small victory.

“He was really into the idea of writing in his journal,” Jungkook mentioned casually, turning to Taehyung. “It wasn’t hard to get him on board after I explained it to him.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted slightly, impressed. “That’s great to hear! Sometimes all they need is a little push in the right direction. I knew Jaehyun would enjoy it—he’s got a lot of imagination to express. Just like his dad.”

Jungkook smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, but I’m hoping this helps him focus in class. I don’t want him to struggle because he can’t sit still.”

Taehyung’s smile softened. “You’re doing everything right, JK. He’s not going to be perfect every day, but with your support, he’ll figure it out. And so will you.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the school day. Jaehyun waved at Jungkook from the classroom door, his wide grin and sparkling eyes a constant reminder of why Jungkook worked so hard every day.

“I’ll see you later, Dad!” Jaehyun called out before disappearing into the room.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Today I goed to scool and I playd with my frends but that girl with the pigtiles didn’t shar her caryons with me!! I HATE HER and her dum smily face >:( She allways gets the good colors and she never shar!! I asked for the blue one like a million times but she say NO!! I said it’s not fare!! She just looked at me and stuck her tung out. SO RUDE. Then Mr. Kim camed over and said we gotta share and he gived me the red one but I DIDN’T WANT IT. The red one is dum and ugly and it doesn't even look like fire when you drawed it. Blue dragons are way cooler, evryone knows that!!

But I drawded a dragon anyway cuz I'm a HERO and dragons are cool and now I don’t care about the blue one. Maybe I don’t hate her tho. But I still don’t like her smily face. She always smily. Even when she’s mean. I hope she shar tomorrow or I’m gonna tell Mr. Kim again. Maybe this time I’ll get TWO crayons and she gets NONE!!! Ha! That would be funy.

𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦: MASTERLIST 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 - 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵

𝘃𝗲𝙧𝘆 𝗂𝗺𝗽𝗼𝙧t𝖺𝗇t 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 (𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵)

@onedoornet @loserlvrss @tkooooop @jvngw0nlvr @hees-love @astrae4 @fae-renjun @nicholasluvbot @txtbrainrot @kwiwin @kkumistars @lynnimini @dalliesque @cherrycolaberry @seokkiez

© hollyoongs, 2024. please do not copy, translate or steal my story

[factual-fantasy]

20 Asks! Thank you!! :)) 🎩

@holly-opal (Sent after this post)

I'm still working out the kinks of my AU- but I've got a few ideas in mind for Wally!

First off, he has terrible sleeping problems. :( He can only sleep for a few hours at a time before waking up with heart palpitations and feelings of anxiety :((

He's very casual about these problems and will talk to anyone who asks him about it, The neighbors will ask things like "have you tried this?" or "Have you tried eating this?" And he tries it all, but it never works.. he's not sure why :(

This is my in-world explanation for why Wally talks soooo slowly and has droopy eyes. The poor guy cant get a good nights sleep!

Now what Wally doesn't know, is that his Home is some kind of living entity.. its intentions with Wally are uncertain.. but at night while Wally is sleeping... it watches him.

The aura Home creates causes so much anxiety in Wally that he wakes up. And the feeling of another presence somewhere nearby creates so much anxiety that he cant go back to sleep.

He doesn't really recognize that these feelings could be legitimate. He just thinks to himself "No one is watching you, don't be silly!" He then double checks that his house is all locked up tight and finds a comfortable spot to rest until the anxiety subsides.. (..until home stops watching him..)

I've been experimenting with different ways that Barnaby could find out about just how severe Wally's nighttime anxiety is. And what he would do to help him.. but I haven't settled on an idea yet <:0

@greenkirbkid456u

I have not.. :( but after googling it, the art style looks really cool!! :DD

@birodactyloftheblog

XDD This ask made me laugh, and it was really sweet! Thank you!! :}}

I would love to dip my toes into welcome home a little more, I'm just a bit thin on ideas <XDD

@ivannakoopagirl14

<:0 Sorry what?

<XDD I cant tell what Wally is supposed to be. In canon he's the same height as other characters, dresses rather grown up, had his own house?? Yet so much fanart draws him/portrays him as really young or a child..? With all the neighbors treating him as a child?? <XD Which one is correct??

Not any that I can remember.. I haven't interacted with that fandom for a while <XD And when I did, I mostly stuck to my own blog and my own ideas-

@glitchhayden418

Bloop!! :))

Oof, its sad to hear that's how you found me.. 😔 But its nice to hear that someone feels the same way! :))

As for your question, that's totally fine! :D

@hershelwidget

Thank you so much!! :DDD And to be totally honest I never really think of the environment the sky animals/beasts live in <XD I usually just see the cool mask and imagine what the rest of the creature would look like! :00

Not sure for any specific advice... I'm not great at explaining art things <XDD

Yeah I have her holding an everstone XD and if she evolved she'd look like a man 💀 Which is why I'm keeping her as a cute little baby Kricketune :))

@sevenheven7011

Oh cool! :DDD

@wolfwraithartz

AAAAAA THEY LOOK SO COOL!!! :DDDD

@minnesotamedic186 (Sent after this comic)

That's right! And its a SEAHORSE MASK?? Huh :00 I didn't realize!

Oof, thanks for letting me know.. and it sucks to hear that my art is on your board, that's not good. 😔

@imaplantyay

Oof, thanks for letting me know..

@davesartdesk

��👀👀I cant wait to see it! :DD

@orchid-harmony

Season of Abyss was a literal and figurative game changer for me. Adding swimming mechanics to sky?? That beautiful ocean(?) to swim in?? I loved it so much and it added so much more playability to the game for me.

..However..... the season of Aurora was mind blowing. Haven't cried that hard at a game before. That's gotta be my favorite season. 🥺💞💞

@stupid-thatsme (Refencing this post)

Man... 😔 I'm so sorry.. 😔😔😔

@kaiserdarken

I'm not sure! :0

XDD Nope! They Ingo and Emmet!

@livinwa

SNake! :D

(Referencing this post)

Same here 😔

@coolguyoninternet

XDD Well I do have a few side blogs, but my sona is only on this blog!

@couchwow

👁️👃👁️

@ozzytheplushiemonster

You'll find someone my frien :(

@neo-metalscottic (Master post trouble)

AAHHH THANK YOU!! :DD I was really proud of that gut punch so I'm glad you liked it! :))

As for if the animatronics have their own show.. I'm not sure :00 I made my AU without them having a show in mind.. but that's not to say they don't have one! Maybe its played on TV outside of the pizzaplex so the main animatronics don't really know about it..? :0

@kittysuicoffee (Sorry for the late reply! <XD)

WAHGGG THESE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!! 🤩🤩💞💞💞💞

XDD That's me!! :))