#as always feel free to request more in my askbox :>

[kelddaa]

Last of the twitter requests: skizz and pearl hanging out!

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

OPENASKBOX TIME HERE ARE THE GROUND RULES

1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel

2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written

3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites

4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once

5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before

the proper inbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, but I will probably NOT see my tumblr dms until the event is OVER. If you need to flag me down RIGHT AWAY you're GOING to have to go over to twitch chat ask there.

the BEST CHANCE of getting it written live today is to send in your requests with 3 different asks within the first hour or so of the stream going live. after the first hour, it's not gonna matter if it's in one or three asks cuz I'll be scheduling them out in advance and everything that follows the rules above will get written eventually

If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.

I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ miathecalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 10PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.

Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 2 o’clock EST.

Here is a direct donation link to my streamlabs, it works like a ko-fi but I’ve got it set to give me alerts on my twitch so I can see and thank you straightaway for supporting my takeout order

If you would like to receive the card you buy/request for, physically in the mail, here is the shop link:

feel free to dm me first to discuss discounting if you'd like multiple of your cards in a bundle

if you subscribe to my channel on a regular basis, I'll keep your cards back and send them out periodically regardless

there'll be 2 donation goals - one as a forty dollar threshold for ordering food, and the other one will be set at $160 since that's ABOUT the equivalent of living wage for the amount of time I'll be streaming.

[madame-fear]

Hello sweetness! I am here to requests something from you, feel free to ignore since I know you probably have so many requests right now. But I’m back in my hotd faze and wanted one of my favorite writers to write something. <3

Could I request a Lucerys Velaryon where he is newly betrothed to a lovely girl, us, who he falls head over hells for. The two being very sweet to one another, and the reader being scared to be married to a prince but he is there always. But the plot is about how closer to the wedding date the reader is trying back on her dress and just dreaming and Luke comes in and sees it? I really love lovestoke Luke! Please and thank you.

-Love, Ash.

*ೃ༄ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒.ೃ࿐

★amira speaks! : hello my lovely !! 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 Oh my god, you have NO idea how happy I felt when I got your request on my askbox 🥺 I made this as fluffy as possible for one of my favourite writers too, and I hope you enjoy your reading, darling! 💕 — summary : [ — ✧ request. ] — word count : 2.5k

— genre : purely fluff. — pairing : lucerys velaryon x reader.

The word ‘betrothal’ had always been a term that frightened you.

From a young age, you had learned that betrothals were most often — actually, it was always — done as an act of political convenience; to ally different Houses together and strengthen their bond. Knowing it was an unwanted marriage, and often women were unhappily stuck in them, you forever kept yourself reluctantly terrified towards the idea of having to marry a Prince, or a Lord by the time you were a grown girl; not wanting to suffer.

And by the time it was your turn to get betrothed, your parents and yourselves travelled to Dragonstone, preparing to meet the Prince you would be married to in a future. Such overwhelming nerves and fright seemed to burden you more than anything during your entire journey, feeling as if you could melt right in the spot, with a desperate need to get out of there.

But fortunately for you, by the time you reached Dragonstone, you had been blessed with an eternally loving, timid young Prince. It was none other than the secondborn son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, the future Lord of Driftmark: Lucerys Velaryon.

You had all been warmly welcomed by the Targaryen Princess herself, whom immediatly made you feel comforted as you noticed her tender, sweet nature around you — treating you as if you were her own daughter. And by her side, awkwardly stood Lucerys. It was nearly impossible to ignore him, feeling his gaze fixed on you the entirety of the time as you were received by House Targaryen.

Much like you, it was quite notorious the young Prince carried a timid nature. By the moment your gaze met with his own gorgeous, vivid green hazel eyes, he rapidly adverted his stare elsewhere, shyly smiling to himself and trying to hide the fluster that kept growing on his pale face as the seconds passed. Luke had both of his arms hidden behind his back at that moment, yes, but you could still tell that he was nervously fidgeting with his own hands and fingers. Gods, you were such a pretty, graceful lady, and Lucerys was already over the moon for you despite having merely shared a brief moment of eye contact together.

The idea of having to leave your home to live with your betrothed was, initially, a complicated thought to process; especially during the first days of your staying in Dragonstone despite how kind and patient everyone treated you. But of course, as you were often sat next to Lucerys during dinner and had some small chats together throughout the day — as awkward as they were in the beginning — you were quick in taking a liking for the future Velaryon Lord. Most definitely, it was his endearingly shy self the one that had carved it’s own way into your heart, and the one that managed to completely twist in a good way your sense of frighten at the thought of the word ‘betrothal’.

Tranquil, leisure strolls through the gardens, hours of reading to one another together, and sneaky late night talks was how you both spent your days until your wedding ceremony arrived. And even, Luke had gone as far as teaching you some High Valyrian so you would know the language and culture of his own family.

Of course, the nervousness regarding your marriage and the wedding continously lingered in you, gnawing every bit of your mind despite having a perfectly sweet relationship with Lucerys. And knowing how you felt, becoming used to freely speak up your mind whenever you were alone together, Luke never failed to comfort and soothe you by expressing his own nerves, but at the same time, reassuring you that he was certain all would go more than well as every preparation for the occassion had been carefully organisated properly.

It was the warmth that the Velaryon Prince constantly offered to you, that made you be over the moon and clouds for him, just in the exact way he felt around you. It had taken no time for you to become his ‘gevie rūklon’ — his pretty flower, being as delicately graceful as the petal of a rose. The one he was more than eager to cherish and show his undying adoration with each day that passed, and you couldn’t help but often thank the Seven for blessing you with such a loving future Lord Husband. With each passing day, you found yourself balancing between the thin string of feeling jittery, and an increasing zeal the closer you were to your wedding day.

And there you stood two nights before your official wedding date, staring at yourself in front of the mirror, simultaneously swinging between such emotions that equally made your heart violently pound against your chest in a way that your hands were visibly trembling. Softly, you adjusted the silk wedding dress that they had prepared just for yourself. As expected, you had already tried the dress on the moment the seamstresses were finished with sewing the very last details — but you were allured into trying it again, imagining how everything would go and practising for the official date.

Faintly, a soft sigh escaped from your nostrils, with a little grin tugging at the corner of your lips. Both your hands were clasped in front of your body, grasping the delicate texture of your dress against your skin. Your breathing became hitched softly, processing the thought of becoming officially married to a future Lord whom you already wholeheartedly adored.

You had spent endless hours in front of your mirror, reading your own wedding vows to yourself and making sure that you wouldn’t either stutter, mess up, or stumble upon your words. And even so, despite already knowing by heart your vows to your betrothed, you still continued to re-read them again, or mentally repeat it.

Your gaze lingered on the ground for a few seconds, admiring quietly the dedication the seamstresses put into your wedding dress, before you managed to raise it to stare at your own face. A nervous frowny grin tugged at the corner of your lips, feeling a flustered heat creeping to your cheeks. As your chambers were silent, the only thing you could ever hear was the sound of your heartbeat increasing by the passing of the seconds, along your soft huffing.

Overall, digging deeper beyond the obvious nerves you felt, there was an immeasurable feeling of joy. The thought of having been blessed with such an endearing future Lord Husband, who had also became your best friend and companion, brought a warming comfort in you that made you eager to the official wedding day. The sight of your own reflection on your dress was more than enough for you to helplessly wander through your own daydreaming.

Dumbfoundedly, your grin became wider as you could already imagine how your wedding would go. And not only you daydreamt about the wedding feast, the way you would be delightfully surrounded by your family, closest relatives, and perhaps how other Lord and Ladies would attend the celebration — but as well, you couldn’t help but imagine how joyful you would be spending the rest of your days by his side, pampering one another with tender caresses, and soft kisses.

Having one another for the joyful and sorrowful moments in your life, and even, having precious little children of your own surrounding both of you. The early prospect you had of how your marriage would be made you nearly melt from adoration. Your gaze remained fixed in your own reflection, smiling to yourself as your mind solely focused and dreamed of what was yet to come.

The door of your chambers were swung open swiftly, yet quietly — provoking a faint creaking sound before it was closed shut. Upon hearing the faint noise, you were quick in snapping out of your little daydreaming, adverting your gaze towards the person entering the quarters. It was, of course, none other than your betrothed; as he had gotten used to entering your chambers in the middle of the night without even knocking, especially when he couldn’t sleep.

A heated dark shade of red crept in your face, gulping timidly as soon as you made eye contact with Luke through the reflection of the mirror. Before managing to mutter a word, his green hazel eyes were fixed on you. The way you so gracefully stood in front of the mirror, using the wedding dress prepared just for yourself that was adorned with dragons and dragonscales imagery, made him awkwardly stand at your door.

Part of him wished to advert his gaze elsewhere, in a poor attempt to hide his overwhelmingly shy fluster; but another part of him, insisted on remaining with his stare on you. Gods, you were such a precious girl— how could he not swoon over you, like he always did? And seeing you in such a beautifully detailed wedding dress made his heart skip one, or two beats. Needless it was to mention the fact that since you were two days away from officially getting married, that already provoked on him some sleepless nights; and seeing you wearing that wedding dress made him feel as if he could melt right there.

The first time you had tried on your wedding dress, he didn’t have the opportunity to take a peek of how you would look. But now, curiousity was eased delightfully. If anything, it served to fuel his already undying adoration for your sweetly graceful nature.

Clearing his throat shyly, his green eyes gazed down to the floor. Both his hands were clasped in front of his body. “I’m... Sorry,” he began speaking meekly. Noticing the timid fluster notoriously creeping on his pale skin made you have to fight back a giggle. “Am I interrupting something, my love?” his eyes lingered on the ground, before reluctanctly gazing up at you shyly. You shook your head in response, before being able to mutter a response.

“Good.” with soft footsteps, Luke approached you. “You can’t sleep, too?” a scoff escaped from you, fixing your gaze on his features as he walked towards you very slowly. “Is it too obvious?” you inquired back teasingly as a helpless grin appeared on your lips, getting a chuckle from him as a response. “I can tell, my love.” as soon as Lucerys stood by your side — noticing him slightly taller than usual —, his green eyes stared at you through the reflection.

The way Luke so endearingly admired how precious you looked for your wedding ceremony made you want to squirm under his gaze, and giggle like a little girl with a crush. “I haven’t been able to sleep either,” his arms remained behind his back, feeling as if his staring to your reflection wouldn’t allow him to do anything else, just... Stare foolishly in love. “Our wedding ceremony is two nights away, and I feel restless.”

Seeing you in the wedding dress was too alluring to get lost in the daydreaming of your near future together. His smile seemed sheepish as his green eyes carefully observed every inch of yourself, treasuring you as his future Lady Wife. You had rapidly turned into his greatest pride, and Luke knew he would eventually show you off to everyone. Not like he wasn’t already doing so, either way.

“But overall...” his arms appeared from behind his back, walking to stand behind of you. Gently, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest in an adoring way. The warmth of his firm embrace was soothing, as he placed his chin on the crook of your neck, moving his stare towards your reflection once again. “I’m proud of having you as my future Wife.”

Of course, all his compliments were genuine — but most of the time, Lucerys appreciated seeing you become flustered at his displays of affection. Your hands were placed on his arms, caressing them gently. “You look more than beautiful,” he cooed, nuzzling the tip of his nose softly against your skin, “I can’t wait until our wedding ceremony. I know you will be such a loving wife and companion, as you already are.” with his words, his lips placed soft kisses on your skin, moving from your neck, to your cheek.

And in his words, there was no lacking in honestly. Each time his eyes took a peek at you, especially at the current moment where you tried back on your dress, his breathing got stuck on his throat; with his heart pounding loudly against his chest. Your giggles with each one of his loving kisses encouraged Lucerys to keep going, and if it were possible, he would shower you in his kisses eternally.

A contented growl spurred from your lips, craning your head lazily towards him, managing to place your lips on the skin of his rosy cheeks. “Sometimes I wonder, what have I done to possibly be blessed by the Seven to earn such a sweet, and attentive betrothed such as yourself?” you could feel his smiling lips grasping against your skin, holding a protective grip around your body.

Sighing, he managed to rest his chin on the crook of your neck, trying to catch his own breathing before continuing to fill you with kisses. Those sleepless nights were more than worth it, marrying such a precious beauty as yourself — and who could blame him? If he managed to even get some rest the two days before your wedding, Luke knew his dreams would be invaded by you walking down the aisle, in such detailed dress. “I can only wonder to myself the same thing, my sweet.” he replied briefly.

Allowing your head to rest against his own, his eyes stared at you through the reflection of the mirror. There weren’t enough words to express his admiration towards you, swooning inwards to himself at the sight of your vibrant grace.

Despite the obvious anxiety you equally felt regarding the ceremony, such as everything going as planned, and none of you stumbling upon your words when it came to reading your vows to one another, there was an exuberant eagerness to refer to each other as your own.

But, if anything— there was one thing that would be difficult for him to overbear during the ceremony. The sweet scent emanating from you was merely intoxicating, and his lips continued to playfully grasp against the skin of your neck, admiring you quietly.

“I do have to warn you,” shortly, he trailed off. His lips became in a dumbfounded grin, drunken with the feeling of a loving worshipping towards your entire self. Adoring you so much, that could make his heart combust at any second. You were bewitching at the sight.

Your eyebrows furrowed in curiousity before he continued, gripping your waist tighter, before one of his hands found your own, and squeezed it faintly. “I plan on not keeping my lips to myself during our wedding, especially if you are to look this gorgeous.”

♡ taglist : ♡

@jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[gghostwriter]

[Requests are closed & on hiatus]

Hi, you can call me Pau. I’m in my 20s and a self proclaimed spencer reid writer and a closeted aaron hotchner girl. My askbox is always open for questions and yapping.

Disclaimer: All one shots and requests are written in fem!reader but my two series are fem!oc

One shots

Angst

Death of a Love Affair [sad] ↳ The three times you understood and the final time you couldn’t. Still Alive for My Lover [happy] ↳ The four times Spencer brushes with death and the fifth time he’s reborn to find his way back to you Dead Man Walking [sad] ↳ The three times memories of his broken promises plagued Spencer’s mind and the final time he’s faced with the consequences Poison Me, I'm Fine [sad] ↳ Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process Knots of Yearning ↳ Spencer lies by omission or in which Spencer acts like he doesn’t know how to tie a tie just to get you to do it for him

Fluff

You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it ↳ The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't. Language of Devotion ↳ You caught Spencer learning a new skill—your native language One Single Thread of Gold ↳ The 3 times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the 1 time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes. Camaraderie ↳ Spencer and some unwanted guests catch you singing at a bad time Wanted: A Gentleman ↳ Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match If You Love Me Right ↳ Emily asks an all important question regarding the next step of your relationship with Spencer Whispered Truths ↳ Your weekly reading club with boyfriend, Spencer Reid, has never been as sweet and life-changing as this night Lips of a Gentleman ↳ A spontaneous museum date alters your relationship with Spencer for the better

Comfort

Deepest Fear ↳ Spencer wakes from a nightmare and you comfort him

Series

Entangled Strings of Fate - Fem!OC x Spencer [on hold; building back log] Caltech, Pasadena - Cleo considers herself a woman of logic With an IQ of 158 and an eidetic memory, how could she not. But meeting Spencer, the boy genius to hers, had her believing in intangible theories like the invisible string and the fates itself. Now, if only he would notice the depth of her feelings. Trope - Friends to Lovers; Eventual Romance Last update - Jun 29 [chapter 7] ; Next update - tba

Yours Truly, Romeo - Fem!OC x Spencer [finished] Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing. Trope - Strangers to Lovers, Mystery, Romance

Requests.

💗 fluff || 💥 angst || 💧hurt/comfort

Hallucinate 💗 ↳ Spencer gets in one accident and thinks you are more than a friend. He believes you're his wife. Blackout 💗 ↳ Spencer finds you passed out on the bathroom floor Phantasmagoria 💗 ↳ Due to an injury, you mistakenly believe Spencer's your husband Birds of a Feather 💗 ↳ Spencer catches you drawing him and he shyly poses for it Bundle of Nerves 💗 ↳ You pass out during work hours and Spencer worriedly rushes to see you Ice Princess 💗 ↳ You take down an unsub and the team finds out a truth about you Sentencing 💗💧 ↳ Spencer (and team) support you during a court hearing His 💗💥 ↳ You visit Spencer in prison and he reacts to the lewd remarks thrown your way Cherished 💗 ↳ Spencer arrives home to a very sweet surprise Down Under 💗 ↳ Spencer questions your colorful vocabulary and it's meaning Cocoa Powder 💗 ↳ While Spencer is in prison, you discover a secret Eden 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer worries for his roommate [based on 'Eden' by Hozier] Curveball 💗 ↳ Spencer proposes in the middle of chasing an unsub Special Diet 💗 ↳ You, a certified wine connoisseur, say no to a glass of wine and in which the team reacts to Rewriting History 💗 💥 ↳ Spencer takes you as his date to his high school reunion

[jjkamochoso]

Hii!! I'm always hanging out in your askbox, sorry about that! I've got another Feitan request! A Feitan x Female Reader who, similar to my other requests, is normally an outgoing person with a girly personality, but behind closed doors she really appreciates a peaceful atmosphere. Maybe the two of them decided to stay together off troupe duty at a rented place or hotel, and she's less bubbly than Feitan is used to her being with the troupe around. Not that she's any less smiley, just a lot more quiet than she usually is. Bonus points if it's raining outside and they can enjoy the sounds of it together in a dimly lit room! Sorry if that was really specific, feel free to change it up if you like!! Thank you!

I LOVE that you’re always requesting omg don’t apologize!! I love writing for you guys and talking with you all about anything and everything so feel free to keep sending in whatever, whenever!!😁🫶❤️ this idea is SO good and I’m grateful you entrusted me with another wonderful request!❤️ thanks so much and I really hope you love this!!

Lightning Strike of Love

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Warnings: slight mentions of violence

“So we’ll meet back up in a few days, right?”

“That’s right. Don’t have too much fun on your off time without me,” Phinks replied to you, shooting you a playful wink.

“We have free time?” asked Shizuku, confusion etched on her features.

Machi sighed. “Yes, Shizuku. You’ve know about this for weeks, remember?”

The girl’s big eyes blinked behind her large glasses. “No.”

Machi pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers in exasperation. You giggled as you listened to your fellow Phantom Troupe members talk about what they were doing in the upcoming down time allotted. You were sad that you weren’t going to be spending more time with them because they truly were your best friends and closest thing you had to a family. You were, however, looking forward to the peace and quiet of not being on a mission for once.

“Where you going?”

Feitan, stealthy as ever, made you jump involuntarily with the sound of his voice right near your ear. He snickered at your reaction, cocking his head as he awaited your answer.

“I rented a hotel room in the quiet part of the city. I figured it’s a good place to relax for a bit,” you said. “How about you? What’s your plan?”

“Nothing. I stay here.”

“At the base? By yourself? On our vacation?!” you asked incredulously.

“Tch. What else I supposed to do? I wait for you all to come back.”

“But won’t you be lonely?”

He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why don’t you stay with me?” you suggested, stunning him completely. You leaned in towards him, smiling sweetly and lowering your voice. “I enjoy your company, Feitan. I’d really miss you if you weren’t there.”

Feitan’s heart wasn’t used to beating as quickly as it was and his cowl wasn’t doing any favors to cool his neck that was burning from your saccharine words. He wanted to accept your offer but if you kept gazing at him with that honeyed expression, he’d never survive the trip.

“Tch. You sappy,” he remarked, shoving his fidgeting hands in his pockets.

You checked the time on your phone. “So, wanna join me? The taxi will be here in about 10 minutes.”

“Fine, I go with you. But I not paying for anything,” he teased.

“Neither am I. A dead guy’s credit card will get you anything you want,” you told him, grinning triumphantly. “Now, go pack! We don’t want to keep the driver waiting!”

A suitcase, a suspiciously small duffel bag, and a taxi ride later and you and Feitan had arrived to the hotel.

“Why so fancy?” Feitan wondered, staring up at the old building with curiosity. Columns and arches were in abundance and the weighty, gold handled doors to the lobby were at least double his height. As you checked in, he took note of the indoor fountain and scoffed.

She out of her mind. This place ridiculous.

“C’mon, Fei! Our room is ready!” you called, beckoning him over. He obliged, still shaking his head at your go big or go home tendencies. You were always so bubbly and were attracted to sickeningly pretty things (hence the choice of hotel). He never understood how you two got along so well; you were polar opposites.

“I’m so excited to see our room!” you squeaked, clasping your hands together in anticipation as the elevator brought you up to your floor. Feitan couldn’t lie, he was looking forward to having you all to himself for the next few days, no longer losing your attention to the other Troupe members. He smiled from under his cowl.

Our room. With my girl.

You pulled out the key and opened the door. When you saw the room, you almost started crying. It was absolutely beautiful! The fluffy beds were calling your name and right after you put your suitcase in the corner, you kicked off your shoes and laid down, closing your eyes and quietly enjoying the silence that had filled the room. After a while you heard Feitan ruffle through his bag before lying down on the other bed. You peeked an eye open and saw he was reading a book.

“Oh, that was a good idea. I should’ve brought a book, too,” you said thoughtfully.

“I have extra in bag. You can get one.”

“Thank you! That’s very kind of you.”

His bag, filled only with books, made you screw your nose up in slight disgust.

“Where are your extra clothes?” you asked, afraid to hear his answer.

“I no bring. These fine for a few days.”

You grabbed the first book you saw, deciding to deal with that situation later. “Trevor Brown? I don’t know any of his works.”

Feitan chuckled. “Just look at it. You might like.”

After a few pages, you had seen enough.

“It’s a little too dark for me,” you explained, putting it back, which caused Feitan to laugh harder. “I know there’s a bookstore around here somewhere. That might be fun to do tomorrow.” You paused. “And I’ll take you shopping.”

After you resumed your position on the bed, Feitan enthralled in his book, you felt a chill blow through you. Since the hotel was older, the windows let in cold air so you were grateful that there was a fireplace in your room. With a click of a button, a warm fire began to roar and you smiled to yourself at how perfectly domestic this whole situation was. Having Feitan all to yourself in a place like this was a dream come true to you. You snuck a glance at the man as he read, his hair slightly hanging over his face, his lips, no longer covered by the cowl, pursed in concentration; he looked handsome beyond belief. Not wanting to disrupt him with your staring, you changed gears and grabbed the comforter from your bed, wrapping it around your shoulders. You then pulled a chair in front of the window and stared at the beauty outside, getting lost in your thoughts.

Feitan, on the other hand, was looking forward to you starting your cheerful chatting like usual. He was patiently waiting to hear your voice chirp up, talking animatedly about things that happened that day or what was on your mind. If anyone else spoke as much as you did, he would’ve sewn their mouths shut, but he tolerated—no, genuinely liked—your incessant jovial jabber.

“Why you no talk?” he asked, pulling you from your daydreams.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“You never stay quiet, you always talk.”

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” you joked, but Feitan was looking at you with such a serious face that you immediately stopped teasing.

“Around the others, all day long, talk, talk, talk,” he said, opening and closing his hand in a gesture to mimic you speaking, “but with me, you silent. Why?”

“That’s easy,” you replied, wearing a soft smile, “you make me feel relaxed. At ease. I love to speak with everyone, yes, and I especially love talking with you, but when it’s just me, or just us, like this… I like the calming environment.”

“Oh.”

Feitan was clearly embarrassed by his assumption, although he did think it was good to learn that you two weren’t total opposites after all, since he cherished his quiet time as well. You were completely unbothered by his question but you still tried to reassure him in your own way without making him feel silly. You picked up the big black book that was resting on the nightstand and took up the spot next to Feitan on his bed, your arm brushing up against his.

You opened the book to a menu. “How about we order some room service?”

After ordering and eating practically everything from the menu, you and Feitan were happy as could be. You two shared nice conversations over dinner, Feitan ecstatic at hearing your bad jokes and sparkling laughter, and you were feeling grateful that you were going to be able to share moments like this with him for the next couple of days. When the last of the empty plates were left outside your hotel room door to be picked up, you locked the door and got your pajamas on since nighttime had almost arrived. You exited the bathroom in your cozy attire and sat on your bed once more, feeling Feitan’s gray eyes watch you the entire time.

“Yes?” you asked, wrapping yourself in the comforter again.

“Nothing,” he blurted out, tearing his gaze from you. You giggled, browsing through a magazine provided by the hotel. You were about to turn on the lamp to continue reading when all of a sudden, you heard tapping on the window. You peeked out and saw rain had begun to fall. The last remnants of the sun’s rays were snuffed out by dark clouds hovering in the sky above you and your stomach fluttered at the change of weather. Hearing the droplets hit the building was sending you into a state of pure bliss and there was only one thing that could make it even better.

“Feitan?”

There was no answer but you knew he was listening.

“Come lay next to me.”

Again, no answer.

“Please? I don’t bite.”

“I do.”

Your eyes found his in the dark but he showed no sign of yielding to your request. “Forget I said anything. I’m sorry for pushing it.”

You weren’t going to force him to do something he didn’t want to do. You knew he had an aversion to any sort of touch that wasn’t tortuous, but you thought for sure he would at least sit on the same bed as you. You sighed wistfully as you leaned against the headboard, wondering if Feitan knew of your romantic feelings for him and this was his way of rejecting them. To your total surprise, you felt your bed dip as another body climbed on the mattress.

“You no apologize, don’t be stupid.”

This time it was Feitan who brushed his arm against yours as he climbed into the warmth of your comforter, leaving goosebumps where he touched. You two sat together, no sounds to be heard except for the falling rain and far off thunder. The hotel room was dimly lit by the fireplace and you were admiring the flicker of flames that highlighted Feitan’s profile. The tranquility you were experiencing was unmatched by anything else on this earth and you wished life could be like this all the time. You didn’t know what possessed you, or what wrath you were about to face, but your body moved on its own in its reach for Feitan’s hand.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you whispered, your rationality catching up to your actions. Right as you were about to grasp his hand, a loud clap of thunder had you pulling back in shock.

“I no say stop,” said Feitan, closing the space between you by placing his hand on top of yours. You turned to look at him fully and he met your gaze for only a second before studying the fireplace instead. In that second, though, you saw more than just flames blazing in his irises—

You saw love.

Taglist: @killuagirly

[p1ctur3]

if requests are still open. blue avm content. blease

sure thing :]

Did you know that archery uses a lot of the top muscles? That being said, I like to think that blue is actually quite top heavy from all the archery he does.

However, he has a sleeper build due to him preference for baggier and more comfy clothes

my askbox is always open for requests, I would just answer later if I am busy. Feel free to request anything in my askbox :]

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hi, I saw your askbox was open so I wanted to send my request in if it's not too much. What about the M6 with an MC who has really bad anxiety (I suffer from generalized anxiety disorder) so doing normal things like: going to the market, interacting with strangers is very difficult for them. Maybe they wanna do something but if they're not good at it on the first try they get very anxious because they feel like they just ridiculed themselves? (Feel free to ignore my request if it makes you uncomfortable in the slightest ^-^)

The Arcana Mini-HCs: When MC has anxiety

Julian: gets a fair amount of anxiety himself and relates to you so much it's painful. always takes your fears seriously and will accompany you to whatever anxiety-inducing place you need to go, and won't hesitate to introduce himself to people you want to talk to

Asra: has built up a plethora of ways to help you, including (but not limited to) soothing fabrics and textures to carry around, smells, affirmations that Faust will repeat on an endless loop in your head- seriously, though, he's always ready to soothe your worries

Nadia: doesn't get what it's like to have anxiety but knows an over active, self-critical brain when she sees one and is determined to bring you the comfort and security you deserve. never judges you for needing space or a moment to breathe, and always has your back

Muriel: he gets it more than he wants to, to the point that sometimes seeing you get anxious is exactly what he needs to snap him out of his anxious spiral. can listen to what you think are your silliest fears without an ounce of judgment or flippancy and comfort you

Portia: she gets insecure sometimes, sure, but anxiety isn't something she experiences a lot. that said, you should never ever ever feel anything less than your incredible self and she is going to be your personal hypewoman for every tiny thing you're doubtful about

Lucio: somehow great at soothing you, because while he's oblivious by nature, he believes in his heart of hearts that you are the best thing to ever exist (right next to him) and he will always be able to say that to your face without an ounce of doubt. he'll say it often, too

[yourmoonmomma]

ABOUT ME & READING SERVICES

Re-doing my pinned post again, now that another birthday has passed and have returned from my paid reading hiatus.

I'm a 24 year old cosmic witch with a Cancer Sun, Pisces Moon, and Sagittarius Rising; I have a Cancer & 8th House Stellium. I'm transmasc, and my pronouns are he/they. I prefer gender-neutral and masculine terms, with "mom/momma" being the only exception.

This blog is dedicated to witchcraft. I will post about my life from time-to-time as well, but these posts will use the #abt me. If you are only here for readings and/or astrology, look at #readings or #astrology. I also have a #divination and #witchcraft tag. I do have a multitude of sideblogs for my other interests, feel free to inquire about them if you are interested.

This is my full-time job, so any and all support is appreciated. Ko-fi is the best way to tip me, which you can access by clicking here! If Ko-Fi doesn't work for you/isn't available, let me know and we can discuss other tip/payment options. I do also have 3 published poetry books that you can find on Amazon. Their titles are "I Call For You, Endlessly", "I Bleed Your Blood", and "Into The Floral Night" written by Alexandra Joan.

I started studying astrology, divination, and witchcraft somewhere between the ages of 7-9 years old. You can check my #reviews tag for reviews.

FREE READINGS

My free readings are always open! You can ask through DMs or my askbox. Please do not send more than 5 questions more message/ask, as it becomes a little overwhelming, however you can send multiple messages/asks! Do not ask about health, death, or pregnancy. If you tip with the free reading request, I'll give you a more in-depth answer to your question(s). As well, as a disclaimer, the answers you receive are not set in stone. You can make the decisions in your own life, and you should not base serious decisions on what a stranger on the internet says. You control your own life. Not me, or any other reader.

PAID TAROT READINGS

3 Card Reading - $6.25 - You can ask 1-3 questions for this reading, however only 3 cards are pulled. Meaning either a 3 card pull for 1 question, or 1 card per question if you ask 3 questions. Clarifiers to be pulled if needed. This can be done as a written reading or a video reading.

Multi-Question Reading - $13 - A 3 card, at least, reading where I pull a minimum of 3 cards to answer each question you have. Meaning if you ask 3 questions, you will receive 9 cards. Clarifiers are pulled as needed. This can be done as a written reading or a video reading.

PAID ASTROLOGY READINGS

All astrology readings require your birth date, birth time, and birth place. Some readings may require additional information.

Transit Analysis - $18.75 - A written reading to either provide you with a week-ahead forecast based on how the week's transits interact with your Natal Chart, or to let you know how a specific transit will affect you (such as Mercury retrograde). This reading does require your current place of residency.

Specific Placement or Question Analysis - $24.50 - A written reading to either give you further insight on a placement in your Natal Chart (this extends to asteroids as well!) or to answer a specific question you have (such as "what career suits me best") using your Natal Chart. This reading is best for someone who has already read their Natal Chart/understands it.

Natal Chart - $44.75 - A written reading analyzing your Natal/Birth Chart.

Composite Chart - $44.75 - A written reading analyzing your relationship with someone in your life. It is best for learning how the relationship exists as its own entity, the way the relationship changes and shapes you both, and the world around you. I will need the second person's birth date, birth time, and birth place as well.

Synastry Chart - $56 - A written reading also analyzing your relationship with another person, however this is best for learning how you & the other person interact with one another, where the pitfalls & shortcomings exist in the relationship, and the way you two can support each other & communicate healthier.

Solar Return - $56.50 - A written reading analyzing your Solar Return Chart. This Chart is created once a year, on/around your birthday, when the Sun returns to the same position it was when you were born. It helps provide an idea of what opportunities and obstacles your Solar Year holds for you, and how you can best take advantage of the year.

If there are any other readings you are interested in, and you don't see them listed here, let me know. As well, if you have an idea of what you want, but don't know what reading is best, also let me know!

[ch6douin]

> Dᴇᴠᴏᴛɪᴏɴ. — IDV! SELF AWARE AU (5)

THIS IS PART FIVE OF MY IDV!SELF AWARE AU! I love this au but i cannot bring myself to do anything other than brainrot every single day. i would love to hear brainrots, feedbacks or anything related to this au in my askbox, so feel free to mark your presence there.

cw: obsessive behavior; mentions of feeling/being watched; romantic someway; religious behavior; idk what else

Fiona loved the mystic. That's something not so surprising as she was given the title of a Priestess. She swore upon the Lakeside Village to adore the one and only Yog Sothoth, to be worthy of his blessings.

But she's incapable of escaping from this manor and honoring his name properly, incapable of escaping from you.

She knows you, to a certain extent because of the gossip and whispers around the survivors but you know her all too well, every single flaw and trait. Her devotion to Yog Sothoth didn't budge at that time, since at the end of the day, Fiona did not acknowledge you.

Skepticism could be her middle name, scripted to be deep into her heart, protecting it from any dangers. But you sneaked in, clueless of your effect on her. And so suddenly, her offerings to Yog Sothoth lacked sincerity.

She doesn't want to...be like this, be indecisive, she always criticized one for such weakness. But every time she thinks about choosing between you and the eldritch god, she is sent into a spiral of sentiments and beliefs, and anxiety settles deep within her bones. You're taking up too much space inside her, and she can't do anything besides hope that you give her enough room for breathing.

Yog Sothoth's presence is cold as ice and almost frightening, it is something Fiona thought that she was used to it. But she got way too comfortable with the feeling of your unique presence, safe as the embrace of a lover. It makes her dizzy, her heart is filled with tenderness but her brain tugs on it like a warning. Sometimes, it makes her sick in the stomach to sense that she failed to do something simple as to follow one god.

Little by little, her makeshift shrine with tons of trinkets for the ancient god is emptied. The overwhelming amount of items almost spilling out from the shrine are nowhere to be seen. Her loud murmurs from her requests to "Hastur" that every survivor could hear when passing by her door (which for a curious motive, is filled with thick locks and chains) are nothing now but a faint whisper of your name, so silent and soothing as if she is afraid to startle you or make you annoyed by her wishes. But did you hear her prayers? You must have, she likes to believe you do. That's the only explanation for her wardrobe full of luxurious clothes and accessories, silky materials that she would never even dream about touching.

She dreams of you, every night. It must be because she thinks about you almost all the time, but she fools herself into thinking it's you infesting her dreams despite the mindset being incredibly irrational. And every time you appear, her brain creates an individual that could only be described as breathtaking, because any idea that Fiona had about your appearance however you looked like was nothing short of ethereal, divine. She would kneel and worship you regardless of people's opinions.

The others be damned. They never gave her such a strong feeling.

And may you also give her enough patience to not wrap her fingers around that Mercenary's throat—when he stands with a look of nonchalance and crossed arms as if he didn't fuck up everything. She couldn't care less about the hint of regret in his sharp eyes, and she started blinking fast as if to dissipate the sudden urge to pounce on him. But you wouldn't want that, would you? After all, you graced him with your presence more times than one could count with their hands, even if his mouth was always kept shut, she knows because there was nothing that could justify his fidgety behavior when the subject was you.

"Any explanations for your foul behavior, Mr.Subedar?" Just like him, her arms are folded tightly on her chest as she spits out her words, cutting through the palpable tension in the room. And by the way he looks at her through the corner of his eye, she really has the impression of not even deserving his attention.

"It's simple, I don't trust them." Indeed, a simple and short answer followed by his thick accent doesn't satisfy Fiona that much. But that's just Naib Subedar, the mercenary is always stubborn and will feed you nothing but crumbles of information until you go crazy for good.

"Oh for god's sake. You don't trust anyone, Subedar." She sighs heavily, rubbing her forehead in annoyance. "The day you do, pigs might fly!" The woman walks around the dimly lit room with impatience, and he remains still as a statue. Aside from a twitch of his brows and a brief glare, there is no reaction to her words.

"Who I trust or not is none of your business, Gilman. Just like you being an obsessive freak with this person, if we can even call them that, has nothing to do with me." He is good at pretending to not be fazed as if he didn't experience goosebumps all over his body five minutes ago when he could finally hear your voice clearer than ever. And when the thought of how you looked from the other side of the screen went through his head for a fleeting second, he swears his heart rate did not increase. Why do you have this effect on him? On everyone? You were able to swoon the hearts of even the most reserved men and women in this manor, you even made him feel somehow special initially.

Emma plants flowers that you might like, Frederick and Antonio create tunes and songs inspired by you, Demi has confessed her admiration for you countless times in her drunken state—Hell, Naib is sure that he had a glimpse of Edgar Valden himself stressing over a painting and mumbling how he 'just had to see you in person, his lost muse'.

His thoughts are interrupted by a loud groan. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that for the sake of our partnership." He had hit a nerve, didn't he? It's written all across her face, eyebrows furrowed, lips in a firm line, eyelids twitching...It almost brings a smile to his lips how worked up she got. His eyes trail down to her hands for no particular reason, they are gripping her robe tightly in between her fingers.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night.." His mouth has a small pout of indifference as he shrugs, heavy boots accompany him when he walks away to finally leave and have some rest. There is nothing that he wants more than to forget about all of this for at least a few hours, that is if he doesn't end up having you appear in his dreams and waking up with wide eyes filled with evident embarrassment. Maybe he wasn't so different from the other survivors and hunters...

Twisting the doorknob and looking up through his eyelashes, much to his dismay, a person that he knows all too well stands proud. With his black and white clothes, it's Luca Balsa in the flesh. Even with the shaky postman wiping away his tear-smudged cheeks behind the prisoner's back like a shadow, his toothy grin never faltered. He must be sure of himself if he still remains unperturbed by the problems ahead. Naib steps away to give them enough space to enter the room and then vanishes without a word, not before noticing how the postman's irises followed him till he was no longer within eye's reach. If Naib was able to gain the hate of someone so calm, he indeed might be a jerk.

It doesn't take long for Luca to speak up. "Long short story, an unexpected error happened, and now no one knows how to turn it on without my help?" He's casual with it, maybe overconfident in his abilities as an inventor but some optimism was very much needed right now. After all, he should not disappoint in their pursuit to contact you!

There's a short silence, followed by the loud crack of his knuckles as he takes a long stride towards the machine. "Alright, this might take some time. I recommend for you two to take a break and have a little debate with the others in the main hall. Everyone is starving for good news."

OBS: When Fiona mentions "luxury clothes" she's referring to the A/S tier costumes from the game.

naib wants u so bad bro 🤨 a lot of characters may appear next chapter but of course half of it may be a little more luca centered, and maybe if i make it long enough we will come back to reader's pov😆

[tuliptired]

more of egon x ta!reader 👉👈

Hello? You're My Very Special One

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Gn!Ta!Reader

Warnings: Very familial and child-centric, though stuff like reader anatomy isn't specified

Askbox is little backed up (my bad) but that's ok because now I have more time to write for you all :)

Strayed from the ask a littleeeeee bit

Better formatting on Ao3!

Egon sighed to himself as he pushed the campus door open, setting out into the warm air of the afternoon. Ray was on his tail, while Peter stood up straight and off of a wall after waiting for them for so long. They’d come out of a meeting with a professor, after getting a sufficient scolding from the Dean. One accidentally too loud experiment late at night, and the pair couldn’t hear the fire alarms going off. The chemistry lab’s lights were the only ones still on, and Egon suspects that everyone outside assumed they were burning alive- thus the door was torn down. Thankfully, their professor was able to get them out of sufficient trouble as he was the one who suggested the experiment. They were off scot free, as the scholar let them know that the least he could do was give them community service.

“What’d he tell you?” Peter walked with them down the front steps.

“Just some service,” Ray didn’t seem all that upset, which wasn’t surprising after the rapsheet the trio had managed to build over their years in academia. Egon could handle an hour or two of giving back to his city, it just felt like a big inconvenience in his plans.

Peter clicked his tongue. “You won’t find any luck at the bulletins. All filled up.”

Ray’s pace didn’t falter as he put his hands in his pockets, unbothered. “No problem, we can go to the library.” Egon was lagging behind then, almost coming to a full stop before catching back up to his friends. Anywhere but the library. He’s had enough of a backwards day. The soup kitchen had to have a few spots left.

He walked behind Ray’s shoulder. “No need. We can get vests and pick trash off the road,” he tried to hide the desperation in his voice. Ray only laughed at such a suggestion.

“I could rob you with a cigarette box. Let’s just go and check, and I’ll renew my book while I’m there,” Ray spoke casually, tapping a hard spot on the inside pocket of his jacket. Egon swallowed, unable to convince his oblivious friend. Peter leaned into Ray, voice at a stage whisper.

“Spengs is just embarrassed to ask the librarian for forms,” he confessed, making the man in between them snicker. Egon could feel his face burn, adjusting the wrists of his dress shirt.

As they reached the library, Ray reassured Egon that it’d be fine, hand on the door. “Don’t be like that! Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“The hell did you do?” Your fingers stopped flipping around your binder as the reality of what he requested hit you. “Mr. Spengler? Doing community service?” He had a blank expression, eyebrows down as he tuned out the bustle of the main library floor. You kept on teasing him, baffled at the idea that he could be in trouble warranting civil service.

He resisted rolling his eyes. “Is it that surprising?” You smiled, continuing to go through the binder anyway. He noted the way you decorated your little corner, obviously not an official desk but a secluded spot for you to work.

You stopped at a certain page, pulling a piece of paper out of the plastic divider. “Always in such a bad mood. And no, it isn’t,” you remarked, placing the paper in front of him. “You’re the reason we can’t smoke in our dorms anymore.”

He took a look at the paper, scanning for an open square. He could hear you ask “what’s with you and fires?” as he surveyed the document, but he was more preoccupied with the lack of openings. You pointed your pen towards two free spaces at the bottom, though there was no assignment corresponding with any of the columns or rows.

“The art department’s book sale,” you sat a bit forward, seemingly trying to contain your excitement. “Every year, downtown. It's always a lot of fun.” He raised a quick eyebrow before you passed the utensil over to him. “You’re lucky these were left. That first one’s helping with the science fiction section.” If he had looked up, he’d seen you gazing at him, expectantly. Without thinking, he knew Ray would prefer this over something else. He could always take it for himself, though, and tell his friend that he didn’t get to pick, but that’d be a little too selfish. Ray could enjoy some time here, Egon thought to himself as he wrote “Raymond Stantz”' in the rectangle.

As he finished the z, he nearly drove the pen off the page as you let out a noise of delight. When he looked up again, he was met with your smiling face. “That means you’re gonna be with me! And a bunch of little kids! For a whole evening!” You took the paper back before Egon could contest, scrawling his name down in the last available place. He watched your wicked expression as you slid him another paper, one with the date and address. “You can help me while I look for something old and out of print. Hope you’re a good babysitter.”

Community service was more than an inconvenience, he thought, folding the sheet and stuffing it in his pocket while Ray happily finished up renewing what he had out.

Ray was, undoubtedly, bouncing off of the metaphorical walls as they made their way down to the closed off block the fair took place. Egon was happy for him, he really was, as his friend talked his ears off about the volumes and editions that aren’t available anywhere else anymore he’d be able to talk about with patrons. So excited, that he had yet to give Egon a chance to mention what his responsibility for the evening would be. Maybe it was for the best, as Egon adjusted the collar of his shirt for the seventh time since they left. It would be a warm night, so he figured just a dress shirt and a light coat would suffice. Would a sweater scare the kids? How old were they? He let his eyes close, somewhat dreading the few hours ahead of him.

Ray stopped them at a crosswalk, checking the light. “I just realized- I never asked what you’re doing there.” Egon bit his tongue as they were clear to cross.

“Babysitting,” he confessed, a little exasperated after keeping it in for so long. Ray looked at him with a wide expression, a bit disbelieving as he brought his eyes back to the sidewalk ahead of them.

Ray couldn’t resist the need to look at his friend again. “You’re good with kids?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he answered honestly.

Ray looked sympathetic as they reached the entryway, more and more people joining them on the reserved street. “We could switch! If that’s not your thing,” he offered. Egon shook his head, remembering the “volunteer” pins Ray picked up from the library office leading up to the event, passing one to the man.

“Don’t worry. Have fun,” he pinned it to the pocket of his shirt. Ray protested some, eventually settling on apologizing profusely as they waited in line to get in. When they did, it was almost like its own ecosystem. The area was nearly separated from the rest of the city with the amount of tents and booths lining the far edges of the worn grass and pavement, warm colors giving the space a mystifying effect. Egon took a breath in, taking a moment to get to the comforting part of the experience as there were just so many people there. Lots of cheer, lots of noise as Ray eventually had to depart, reaching his assigned tent while he radiated joy in the presence of fellow enthusiasts.

While he made his way through the path, he passed a man sleeping peacefully on a blanket underneath a tent, a girl reclining on his back as she read to herself. There was an elderly woman with an infant tied to her back as she bought picture books, and he caught sight of two young men holding hands under a table while they sold novels. There was a strange energy going around, he thought to himself. He tried hard to name it, but he could only fall flat in his nomenclature. As he walked, a voice called out to him from the edge of a booth.

It was you, waving him over. Only, you weren’t alone; you had at least 4 little children leading you around. The tallest was still fairly young looking, if not for her awkward height, long brown hair in two loose ponytails while she stood in a shirt that was too big on her. There was a boy next to her, clearly a handful of years younger, standing in a hockey jersey as his fingers threatened to enter his nose, shadowed by a girl around the same age in a decadent pink dress, all frills and bows up to the ribbons holding up her short blonde hair. All of them were connected by a brightly colored walking rope with a ring for each, save for a little baby sitting content in a wagon you pushed as the contraption was tied to the front to make an easy train.

“Okay guys, this is Mr. Spengler. He’s a friend.” You address the children, all watching him with wide and curious eyes. “This is Rebecca, Ryan, Amelie, and Nico,” you went down the line in age order. Rebecca gave him a small wave, and he returned it, stiffly. Ryan spoke up, pointing high up at the tall man’s head.

“My daddy says guys with long hair are draft-dodgers.” Egon could hear you sigh.

“Educational deferment,” he couldn’t help but correct the child, who looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. Before he could say anything else, you cut both boys off.

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Ry. Now-” You instructed them over to the grass, where many people were sitting under the shade created by the proximity of the tents and overhangs. “I’ll be two seconds, just over there. Stay with Mr. Spengler. Can you help me, Becca?”

Said girl nodded, and she followed you. It was just Egon and the 3 kids now, Ryan electing to sit on the grass while Amelie leaned over into the wagon, playing with Nico. They were wary of Egon at first- and he didn’t even know where to start. Meeting children was different from adults, they just did whatever, whenever. He realized how odd he must’ve looked, a grown man awkwardly standing over a few toddlers entertaining each other, and he silently wished you’d be back quickly. As they got a little bored with themselves, all 3 of them took to staring at him with round, large eyes as they huddled around the wagon. He kept his eyes on where you disappeared, wishing even harder.

Wishes must work fast, because you reemerged with Rebecca, holding small cups of something, as well as spoons. You had all the kids sit, and, as Egon stayed standing so as to not have to sit on the ground, you silently took off your jacket and laid it out across the grass, and he thanked you quietly. Rebecca did the same for Amelie, with a blanket from the wagon instead. The cups were distributed, and even Egon got one- vanilla ice cream upon further inspection.

“Didn’t know what you liked,” you apologized, pulling Nico into your lap. “Sorry for leaving like that. This is the only way I can get them to listen to me later,” you glanced over at Amelie and Ryan stretched out across the grass, enjoying themselves.

“It’s alright,” Egon looked on as Rebecca leaned against you as she ate, watching a group of kids on the path. He spoke low, still disoriented by the quickness of the situation he was put in. “And their parents..?”

You brought a bit of the dessert to the baby’s mouth, miniature hands trying to do it for himself. From what Egon could tell, he was on the tail end a year old. “I’ve known them since they were born.” Ryan got distracted, ice cream pouring off his spoon and onto the side of his hand. “Their parents were my professors- they put this whole thing together. But it gets so busy,” you wiped Nico’s chin, “that they can’t really run an event with a toddler on their hip.”

Egon nodded, and in turn you spoke low, leaning towards him slightly. “They really want them to get into books. But nothing’s really worked. Ryan’s gonna be five, and he’s still pretty behind.” He watched on as the little boy gnawed on his plastic spoon, staring at Amelie as she kept eating. “Typical reading trouble for a kindergartner, but he noticed how ahead his classmates were. Now he’s too embarrassed to give it another shot.” It almost reminded him of himself, accustomed to experimentation and documentation, rather than retention and comprehension. But, a certain college course really turned him on his head, didn’t it?

“Embarrassment is a normal milestone in development,” Egon challenged you.

“Yeah? Even when he’s crying and screaming at the library?” Ryan toddled over to you then, holding out sticky hands.

You helped him clean up, white napkins over small white fingers. “What book are you gonna look for, Ry?” You asked, still holding his hands. Ryan squirmed a bit, frowning.

He broke free, hands to his shoulders as he avoided your question, twisting around. “None,” Ryan mumbled with a shy smile as he looked up and away from you. You shook your head, holding his tiny hands again.

“I promised your dad I’d get you something you liked.” Ryan shuffled his feet, eyes now on the grass. “C’mon, tell Mr. Spengler what we read about bears the other day,” you coaxed him, before Ryan gave up, leaning his weight onto you as Nico babbled into the fabric of the shirt draping over his face. You gave up, letting him recline on your shoulders.

Egon collected Ryans discarded pot of dessert, putting it inside his own quietly. “Bears are a keystone species,” he uttered off-handedly. Ryan looked at him once with wondering eyes, then hiding his face in your hair when Egon raised his head.

“He doesn’t know what that means,” you comforted Nico as he babbled. Amelie appeared at your feet, warily handing Egon her empty cup. As she clumsily placed it in the stack, arm outstretched like he was alien, you got her attention. “What book are you gonna get?” She pouted at the question, whining a bit.

“I don’t want one,” she announced, heading back to her blanket and pulling a doll out the wagon. Egon could hear your disappointment as the little girl took to playing with the princess rather than look for something to read.

You leaned into him, again, and he leaned in your direction as he curiously watched her brush her toy’s hair. “Turning five in a few months. Her mom’s a music professor. But her stepmom doesn’t think girls should be learning anything important. Hence,” you pointed up and down at the cloying decoration of her ensemble, Egon’s eyes widening slightly as he just noticed the bows on her socks, the large ribbon across her waist and tied at her back.

He nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “Ostentatious.”

“O-s-t-e-n-t-a-t-i-o-u-s,” a voice sounded from your other side. Rebecca absentmindedly braided the ends of her hair, before letting them loose again.

Egon was fairly impressed as you brought her closer to you. “Eleven as of last week. She’s a great speller, and would be even better if she stopped caring about what other girls in her grade did and picked up a book.”

Rebecca groaned as you scrutinized her, combing her hands through her long, frizzing hair. “Cindy Mulfield is dropping out when we get to highschool. She’s gonna run away and become a singer.” Nico reached over, toying with the older girl’s sleeve. He was very tactile, Egon thought.

“That’s great for Cindy. But you’re on the honor roll.” Rebecca rolled her eyes, before you handed Nico over to a confused Egon, rising with Ryan hanging off your back. “I bought your love with ice cream- now it’s time to learn stuff. Let’s look for your book, Ryan.” You resolved, herding them back to the wagon as they reluctantly obeyed. Egon stiffly held the toddler in his arms, who kicked his legs back and forth as he was suspended in the air. He gingerly lowered him into the wagon as the other children unenthusiastically took their section of the tether.

You were all a parade, Rebecca leading the caravan through a winding path of vivid canopies, each advertising a different service or genre of literature. Egon walked by your side as you pushed the wagon, Nico hanging off the edge. He couldn’t help but wonder how you got so comfortable with such little children. Not to mention- juggling all of your other academic responsibilities. He had to admit, your ability to multitask was admirable, when it wasn’t irking him.

All was relatively fine, until Ryan started to bother Amelie. He kept on teasing her, poking and prodding the girl and ignoring your warnings- until she let out a shrill cry, Egon’s eyes widening at a thick hunk of dirt smeared into the back of her doll’s thick hair. Amelie stopped in her tracks, cheeks red and damp from her bawling as she brought her hands to her face . Children were loud, Egon’s under eye twitched. He felt dumb at your side, but not in the way he did when you were in lectures together. Should he say something? Your face was unreadable, at least from his perspective. Ryan looked apologetic when she burst into tears, feebly attempting to clean up his fault, failing as Amelie leaned over the wagon, Nico grabbing at the ornate detailing of her dress.

“I don’t want him here anymore!” She pointed to the boy, sniffling. You were surprisingly calm while the last of tears fell from Amelie’s eyes and onto Nico’s head.

“He can’t go anywhere,” you tried to reason with her. Rebecca fidgeted with her split ends.

Amelie looked conflicted, palms drying her cheeks. She didn’t say anything, instead making her way over to Egon and dragging him between her and Ryan. His head swung between the little girl and you, her tiny hand dwarfed in his large one while she dragged him along. Egon was not one to be dragged, especially not by children. He looked to you for release- maybe a little say in the matter, but you simply shrugged, smiling smugly. Damn you.

And so the procession kept on, Egon just short of doubled over to accommodate the 4 feet little lady steering him along, disregarding the tether that kept all the children together. Soon enough she was at his side instead, nearly white blonde hair bouncing as they silently walked, hand in hand. He had to admit, when she calmed down, she was an awfully endearing little girl- regardless of her dress, fit for a porcelain statue. As she stood close to his leg, miniature fingers curled over his own, he felt some sort of pang near his heart. The strange energy was back, loud as a buzz yet soft as a whisper.

Inside a mellowly lit tent labeled “nature”, Amelie still hasn’t let go. Egon hums, looking at all the titles and thinking back to his brother. Elon’s one of the few biologists Egon knew personally, every manuscript or picture book about the natural world reminding him of his twin. While you held Ryan up to properly talk to the seller, he had his head hidden in your shoulder. This boy really was shy, refusing to open his mouth.

“C’mon, Ry,” you tried coaxing him, “he’s here to help.” The child wouldn’t budge, eyes watering as he went languid in your arms. You let him down, smiling apologetically to the vendor. Rebecca must’ve taken note of his disquietude, perspective as she’s proven, gently guiding Amelie to help her look in his place, Nico in tow. You were at Egon’s side now, arms crossed as you watched over Ryan- painting an almost filmesque scene

He could feel your frustration. “He hasn’t cried, yet,” Egon offered.

“Lucky me.” The little boy ran his fingers over the edge of the green tablecloth. “He’s a smart kid. I know he is. He loves this stuff, really. He’s just too scared of ‘getting it wrong’.” Egon hummed lowly. He couldn’t help but think of Elon for the second time in a few minutes. His carbon copy was confident, witty, and incredibly passionate about his preferred science. He was also, evidently, extremely persistent, prospering as an incredible academic but a fairly poor mathematician. Their parents bluntly told him to pick a different niche if he couldn’t handle the arithmetic demanded of him. But- he worked hard, and didn’t let his natural setbacks stop him from doing what he liked the most. Ryan was Elon, if he listened to the voice saying that he “couldn’t”.

Egon silently stood next to him, flipping through a few children’s books about the forest. Ryan’s eyes had dried, discreetly peering at the covers Egon flipped through. “Do you have any siblings, Ryan?”

The boy was quiet for a moment. “A brother. But he’s old.” Egon found something that looked pretty suitable.

“I have a brother as well. He lives in California, studying brown bears.”

Egon can practically hear the glow coming off Ryan, smiling internally to himself. “Really?”

“Yes. It’s his job. He follows them around and learns how humans affect their homes- in the woods.” Ryan stood on the edge of his toes, trying to read the book in Egon’s hand. The Child’s Guide to North American Bears”. Age appropriate word count, educational pictures- this would do fine.

Ryan chewed his nail, obviously interested beyond his shy nature. “How’d he do it?”

“Reading as much as he could to know as much as he could.” Egon tilted the open text to the boy, eyes bright as he took in the pictures and words speaking to him on the page. He looked conflicted, brought down at the realization that books held the door open for his future dreams. “He read to get into school, he read to get a job- he never stopped.” Ryan frowned.

“I’m not good.” Ryan mumbles, barely audible, but holding so much weight. Egon dropped his normally hygienic inhibitions, now on one knee and eye level with the anxious child in front of him.

“It’s not a matter of being good. It’s trying, and knowing you’ll get better. You can be a biologist, too. But you have to start now.” Ryan only nodded, eventually smiling.

Egon held an open page out, pointing to a small passage. “Here, try this. Only a sentence.”

He hesitated, glancing up and back down at the words. As soon as he did, his face started to shine again. “Brown bears are one of America’s smartest animals.” Ryan took the book from Egon’s hands without a second thought, quickly scanning every note, fact, and passage.

Egon was satisfied. That’s one child down, he thought, corralling the boy to the register as he spouted off more facts enthusiastically. He found you settled at his side, eyes full of something he couldn’t place.

“What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, Mister Rogers.” After happily handing the vendor a bill, you hoisted Ryan into the wagon with Nico as he kept on reading, nose buried in the pages.

Egon back at Amelie’s side, you march on, trying to find a general kids section for her in hopes of finding a suitable princess story. Any princess story, you stressed. Ryan was even reading to Nico, who lazily took to laying on the fabric floor of the chariot he was being pushed around in, disinterested.

Rebecca started to tease the younger girl, not once looking over her shoulder. “Are you gonna get put in a dungeon?” Amelie crossed her arms.

“No,” she announced defensively.

“Are you gonna get a suit of armor and fight for New York like Joan of Arc?” Amelie was turning a bit red.

The toddler spoke before you could calm her down. “No! Princesses get saved by princes and they get married!” To Egon, this seemed like it must’ve been a pretty common spiel, as Rebecca tried to provoke her again before you put your foot down.

“See?” You whispered to him while she hugged her doll tighter. She was, again, a cute kid, but this was turning out to be a nasty phase. Simple psychology- a budding complex brought up during development manifested by the teachings of her mother and the women around her. It didn’t seem very fair- the poor girl wasn’t given a chance to see what kind of person she wanted to be yet, and now she could barely recognize her own name in writing.

Rebecca slowed, looking around. “I think we went too far.” She pointed to a few signs displaying sheet music and liberatos rather than works of fiction. Egon could hear you click your tongue, ready to reroute your little group until Rebecca strayed, eyes fixed on something wooden and on display. Naturally, the other children followed, crowding around the stand.

You let Nico teethe on you as you both peered over the kids. It was an antique viola, still in working condition. Egon was impressed by its craftsmanship, noting the delicate carvings that blossomed across the bout.

“Cool,” your charges seem to say in unison.

Rebecca haphazardly lifts it by the fingerboard, making Egon cringe. “Play it,” she holds it out to you.

You lift your free hand in defense, looking at her incredulously. “Who said I know how?”

The near-teenager shrugs, ready to put it back. Amelie reaches up, flexing and unflexing her fingers, cheering “Give me! Give me!” She obliges, passing over the bow as well. Amelie slugs it back and forth, producing a sound that would make the dead cover their ears. As you get her to stop, Egon worries for the integrity of the strings. They could’ve snapped and hit her, poor thing.

“Any chance you play violin?” Egon takes the instrument from you carefully.

“Viola.” How old was this? He plucked a string or two- it was relatively in tune, if his ears were up to speed. He thought back to any pieces he knew by heart. Senfter was always a nice time. Finding his bearings, messing around with a few bow positions, he found his way back to one of her sonata’s- very smooth, very German. He can almost see his mother behind his eyelids, in front of him with a cane for when he forgot his key signature.

Egon wasn’t expecting to play the whole thing- no kid can sit through nine minutes of classical music. When he let his eyes open in the middle of a decrescendo, you and all the children were watching him in awe, waiting to applaud. He felt himself sport a rare blush, ready to stop then and there until you spoke up.

“Keep going. Didn’t know you had an artistic bone in your body, Mr. Spengler.” He let himself continue, bow gliding across the strings as he (impressively) managed to multitask.

“Funny. I was raised with cello, viola, harp…my brother took the fun stuff- piano, flute, clarinet. I would’ve opted for the gurdy, or even the theremin.” He let out a vibrato note. “But mother said no.”

“Well, you play very beautifully. I wasn’t expecting this from Mr. Facts-and-Truths.”

“You’d be surprised. I’ve been praised for my dancing, too.”

“No way.”

Amelie ran up to him, clinging to his leg, large eyes kept on the instrument against his shoulder. “You made that yourself? The song?” That was as far as her vocabulary was willing to take her as she watched him change positions.

“It was written a long time ago by a lady named Johanna. She wasn’t much older than you when she started learning to read music.” Egon could picture the gears turning in her developing mind as she looked between him and a piece of sheet music on display.

“A girl made it?” Egon did his best to nod while the bow graced the corner of his face. Amelie smiled the widest she had all evening, running up to you a few feet away. “A girl made it! Did you hear?” For the first time tonight, she let her feet really hit the dirt, leaving dark brown all over her satin flats.

“I heard,” you laugh, as she bounces a bit, racing over to the vendor of music and song books, vividly exclaiming that she wants to be like her mom and “joe hannah” and learn to read the dots on the page to make pretty sounds. As the older man, just as enthusiastically, shows her to the children’s books, Egon finishes the sonata.

“It…kinda counts as reading, right?” You ask, watching as she sorts through thin volumes. Egon rubs where the chin rest was absentmindedly.

“Small victories. There are studies confirming the cognitive benefits of learning an instrument at a young age.” As he said this, she came running back, a large book with music for an even larger instrument. The tuba.

You shrugged- a win was a win, and paid the small fare. Egon gently placed the viola back on its stand, there was no way he had enough cash for it, before the older woman tending the tent smiled at him kindly.

She helped him set it back, speaking softly as she did. “You look a little young to have such a big family.” Egon blinked.

"They're not-" He stammered, not sure of what to say until she apologetically waved her hands around.

Amelie called out for him, holding up a graphic in the book of a young lady with the instrument in her lap. He watched you smile down at her, and then up at him. "I didn´t mean to assume. It's just- sturdy husband, young spouse, happy kids. It's very picturesque." Egon racked his brain for a response, but you appeared at his side, then.

"Ready?" He never noticed the color of your eyes until then, catching the light. Picturesque.

There was a buzzing around him. “Almost,” he murmured.

“You both look happy,” she commented as soon as you joined the children by their wagon. He was too stumped for words, the woman called over by her own husband for something.

Before you could tackle another section, Nico started to whine and cry. You shushed him, letting him sniffle into your shirt. “He’s tired. And we are, too,” Ryan rubbed his eyes, trying to keep awake for his newfound treasure but failing, Rebecca leaning against the handle of the wagon. “The song put us to sleep”. Maybe Egon did play for too long.

Rebecca, somehow, ended up in the wagon with the remainder of the younger kids, knees to her chest as she dozed off. You lamented, trudging along and pushing the trio. Nico still couldn’t sleep- he was tired, as you explained to a confused Egon, but now too tired to actually go down. He didn’t feel like crying, rather staring at the man with owlish yet sleepily round eyes.

“I don’t suppose he’s looking for Hemmingway anytime soon?” He speaks low, a rare attempt at humor, which successfully makes you laugh, full and clear. That odd feeling was back as the festivities around you wound down, the warm glow that you seemed to bathe in getting impossibly warmer. “Shakesphere? Austen?” Your giggling grew.

“No, not for him. He’s a muppet kind of guy.” You rub a hand over his back.

“Really?”

You nod. “That’s his passion. Puppets.”

"Understandable."

There was a light breeze, blowing past the hair around his ears. "Sorry you haven't seen him do much but cry and sleep. He's pretty talkative, I guess he just wants to be pampered today." The toddler whimpered a bit at the sudden chill.

"I know, I know," you soothed him. It all felt oddly paternal, a sudden urge inside of him to run out and get medicine or a warm coat. Nico pressed his cheek against your chest, Amelie and Ryan laying against each other. "Little angels, when they’re not kicking and yelling,” you cooed.

Egon hummed. "They'll be up all night."

"That's a problem for their parents."

Right. They had parents. Who weren't you- or Egon. "I'm sure."

He takes note of the plays and novels you passed as you went on the path. Colorful and adorned covers he’d know you’d like, works and authors you’d praised endlessly in class. “You never found what you were looking for?” Egon put his hands in his pockets.

“Hm? Oh. My old and out of print book- Turn of the Screw. It’s okay, I can look some other time,” you shrugged.

The Turn of the Screw. He knew that one. “You don’t mind?”

He frowned, slightly, as you shook your head. “I’m happy as long as these guys got what they needed.”

You ended up in a large, blanketed area, where other families, or just families, rested with their young children. Books were scattered around, as mothers and fathers held their kids close to them and got well deserved downtime, a couple or two huddled around an open novel. You lay on your side as Egon took the liberty of reading to the exhausted Nico who sat back in his lap. Admittedly, he really didn’t know how to care for a child who was barely forming sentences, but it was fairly easy when they latched on to the rhythm and timbre of his voice as he read the words to Peter and Wendy.

Nico took to running his hands over the pages after a while. “Thank you. For helping me out today.” You looked into his eyes, sincerely. There wasn’t a fire behind them, like usual. He nodded.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. You probably changed their lives.” Amelie twitched in her sleep. “I didn’t know you were so good with kids.”

Egon felt warm under your spotlight. “Neither did I.”

You lifted your gaze to the night sky, peeking through the faraway corner of the tent. “Well, thank you for doing my job better than I could,” you admonished him.

Egon sat up straighter. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“So you agree?” You sat up in turn.

“I’m-”

“I’m joking, Mr. Spengler.” There it was. The smile that reached your eyes. He smiled- uncertain if it was voluntary or not. He was dreading this night; the crying, the germs, the sticky hands. But it was nice. The children, the tents, the books. You.

He could admire your dedication to offspring that weren’t your own, managing to treat them as such. They even looked at you, clung to you, like they were of you. It was selfless.

“Do you enjoy it?” He looked on as you brushed hair away from Ryan’s face.

You gathered what he meant, eyes still on the little boy. “Of course I do. I just hope they are, too.”

“I wouldn’t worry.” You locked eyes. You looked wonderful in this lighting.

“Very fun. I think it’s time we get back to my mom.” Rebecca was awake now, making a daisy chain in the grass. Egon could practically hear your brain making the connection before you crossed your arms.

“Very fun, Becca. Now, let’s get you your book.” You spoke to her as if she was a handful of years younger than she actually was, carefully placing a sleeping Amelie and Ryan back into the Wagon. The older girl complained, rolling over onto her back and reluctantly rising.

She rubbed her eyes and stretched her back, Egon lagging behind the two of you as Nico was now in his own arms. He was peaceful, but heavy. “I don’t need a book. I need to go home. I’m gonna miss Maude.”

“Cindy watches Maude?”

“No, but it’s on before Mary Tyler Moore.”

She trudged along ahead of you, no clear direction in mind. Egon walked on wordlessly, feeling the animosity bouncing back and forth as neither of you said anything. Even Nico seemed to have felt it, burying his head into Egon’s coat. He opened his mouth to speak, before you cut him off.

“Don’t even try. I’ve done everything, and it doesn’t work.”

Rebecca turned her head to you, almost shouting as she was a fair distance away. “Can’t I get an encyclopedia and call it a day?”

You were just short of shouting back. “No. Tell Mr. Spengler what you like to read.”

She turned to Egon this time, smiling sweetly, but facetiously. “I don’t like anything, thank you.”

He could tell she was a handful, even at 11. He didn’t risk handing you Nico, placing him in the wagon instead. “May I…?”

“Do my job? Please.”

Egon walked ahead with her, wordlessly while his hands found refuge in his pockets again. Before he could speak, Rebecca did first.

“It’s not gonna work on me.”

“I know. Because you’re not a baby.”

“Exactly.”

Silence. “Do you even know what you like to read?”

She looked at him incredulously. Ouch, lots of attitude from someone who’s only had a two-digit age for about a year. “Of course. But you’re not gonna know, because I’m not gonna tell you.”

“I know. Why not?”

Egon caught her rolling her eyes. “Because, it’s so weird and gross you’ll freak out.”

“I’m a scientist. I got my degree in weird and gross.”

Rebecca shook her head, the shadow of a smile on her face. “Not like this.”

He challenged her. “Try me.”

She stopped in her tracks, facing him. “Molds and fungus.”

He didn’t really know how it happened, but very very quickly he was leading her around the nearest tent marked with some mixture of molecular biology and ecology, adding books to her ever growing stack. “Avery is a very accomplished author. This journal’s a favorite- its about incorporating fungi into the human diet.” He added the heavy book into Rebecca’s arms. She swayed under the weight a bit, eyes wide, but this was the price to pay if she wanted to be a mycologist. It was a demanding field. Not for nothing, but he made it his bitch.

“You do this for fun?” She asked, eyes peeking over the spine of a book about moldborne sickness.

He stilled. Not an uncommon question, when he got deep into his passions. “It’s my hobby, and I enjoy it.”

“People pay you for it?”

“More or less.”

Silence, again, until he could hear her stacking more books into her arms. “Cool! I’ve been just,” she nearly dropped them, “collecting mushrooms and moldy cheese. Cindy said it's gross.”

He felt himself smiling knowingly, taking a few volumes away so he could see her face. “Cindy doesn’t know what she’s talking about. When livestock runs out, we’ll be eating chicken of the woods.”

All the children were returned to their rightful owners not long after that, slowly waking up from their naps and excitedly showing off their new books to their eternally grateful parents. You couldn’t stick around very long, having to leave Egon alone after bidding everyone a goodnight. He swung by Ray’s stand with his little cash in hand, tempted by the titles silently calling his name, painfully ignoring them as he was on a sacred mission. There was a copy of The Turn of the Screw on your desk a few mornings later, a red faced Egon too shy to hand it to you personally.

[washedoutwings]

welcome

// pt: welcome //

fronting (not always accurate): Dorian

time zone: eastern standard time/eastern daylight time

requests/offerings: closed

hyperfixations (in no particular order): random shit :0

special interests (in no order): etymology, entomology, ornithology, fall out boy (band), history, ceramics, painting, theater, fashion history, sewing, fiber arts

askbox: open

dms: open

venting dms: open

ask game(s): 1, 2, 3, 4

active poll(s): 1

hey there!! please call me rook :) i use all pronouns (including neos), especially they/them and it/its. i am the host of our plural collective/system, and am normally at the front.

queer identity:

// pt: queer identity: //

im genderqueer and genderfluid! im also greyromantic, finromantic, asexual, and omniromantic

everyone in our collective is queer!! feel free to ask for specifics if you’d like

mental illnesses/disorders:

// pt: mental illnesses/disorders: //

we have autism, adhd, severe generalized anxiety disorder, moderate to severe depression, mild arfid, moderate chronic pain (unknown origin), insomnia, and some other weird brain stuff.

we are plural!! here are our headmate introductions

current headmate sideblogs:

@flesh-of-the-prophet

we also age regress and pet regress

religion/practice:

// religion/practice: //

i am a pagan witch. i work very closely with Loki. this will infrequently be brought up on this blog

alterhumanity:

// pt: alterhumanity: //

i am a therian, otherkin, and otherhearted. this is the main purpose of this blog, and will be discussed very frequently. check out my theriotypes and kintypes here! i do not currently participate in quads, or use gear. i do plan on making some of my own gear, but this may or may not happen.

we use the alterhuman terms to describe the experience of having animal/creature headmates

hobbies:

// pt: hobbies: //

i write a lot. this includes poetry, creative writing, and some nonfiction. i am an artist, and work in mediums including but not limited to digital art, watercolor, acrylic, ink, and ceramics. i also embroider and crochet. these hobbies will sometimes be discussed on this blog

byi:

// pt: byi: //

please be sure to read the previous mental illnesses/disorders section. be respectful of those :) tone tags are not required, but appreciated. we may have problems conveying tone, but we do not always use tone tags. if you’d like clarification, please let us know. we do not want to be involved in queer, alterhuman, or system/plural discourse. no dni, but we will block liberally and without explanation. we are very forgetful

trigger tagging:

// pt: trigger tagging: //

i have no triggers that i need tagged. this may change.

we will tag most common triggers

mutuals, please let me know if there are any other triggers that you would like tagged

tagging system:

// pt: tagging system: //

i will try to stay as consistent with this tagging system as possible, but there’s no guarantee

#offerings from rook = offerings from my divinekin offering requests

#@— offerings = offerings for a specific user. hyphens are replaced with username

#anon offerings = offerings for anonymous asks

#rook’s ramblings = my general thoughts. me talking

#who got washed out = who i am. my identity. personal development

#rerook = things i’ve reblogged

credits:

// pt: credits: //

dividers: @saradika-graphics, @enchanthings

userboxes: @boxes-for-systems, others are included in the userboxes :) THERES MORE BUT I CANT FIND THEM RN GIMME A MINUTE <33

[uhitsum]

Gaining Update

Hey chubbies! I've got a few big updates, so i've decided to condense them into a pinned post.

1. Gaining Goals

A few weeks ago, I detailed my plan to lose some weight over Spring and Summer. After further reflection, and talking it over with a friend, I've decided against this plan. I don't want to get into specifics, but my motives behind it weren't coming from a good place.

Over the next few months, I instead intend to take gaining at a slower pace. I'm very busy in Spring and Summer, and because I'm saving up to move out to college in Fall, I won't be able to spend much money on food for a while.

2. Donations / Sponsored Stuffings

Since I won't be able to affore much food, I've decided to open a Paypal account for donations. If you want to stuff me up, feel free to send some money to paypal.me/sillybearcreature! Feel free to attach a request to your donation, though please understand that I will only do what I'm comfortable with.

Opening donations is my happy compromise to the idea of something like Patreon. I want to keep my blog free, but if you'd like to support me in my journey, you now have a way to do so!

3. Community Interaction

Going forward, I would like to allow y'all to have more involvement on this page. Some of you have messaged me, and I'm always grateful for the time and attention you offer me, it's made this blog and gaining journey so much more fun! My askbox is also open, for anyone who has any questions, suggestions, or requests.

I've also been working on some more long-form blog posts, focused on discussions and sharing my thoughts. While this is slightly different from the flow of belly pics and calories, I hope they'll find an audience here nonetheless.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

the 1 | c. leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x ex!reader word count: 4k words (how the hell did that happen?) request: yes, by anon: “hi, can i request a story with charles and reader based on driver’s license by olivia rodrigo? maybe high school sweethearts that broke up because they couldn’t handle long distance (for charles ascending career).  fluffy ending with them maybe getting back together years later and him being proud because reader is actually a really nice driver” prompt: character a and character b broke up, but now they meet at a christmas party. from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it!warnings: language, flashbacks, a ton of references to taylor swift and olivia rodrigo. THE AGES AND YEARS MIGHT NOT MAKE SENSE BUT I TRIED MY BEST lol a/n: day 6! i really didn’t plan this to be so long. what can i say… i have no self control. REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, EVEN IF IT’S FOR THE SPECIAL. pls, i don’t want to close my askbox but if i keep getting i’ll have to turn it off.

my masterlist / 25 days of christmas masterlist

there was a time when sneaking around was fun, exciting. when their worlds revolved only around each other and the only worry in their minds was keeping their relationship a secret. 

their friend group was a close knit one, they knew each other since they were kids and had grown up together, and when they’d reached the age of first boyfriends, girlfriends, and other partners, they’d all made a pact to never date someone from the group. 

the fact that it was forbidden only made things more interesting for them. 

what fools they’d been, hoping for a forever at such a young age, thinking their love would be eternal and nothing could ever come between them.

they thought they were in the clear, for so long their friends were unaware of the relationship between the two of them, they would reach an age where they would never care that they’d been hiding the truth for so many years. 

six years together was enough to know they’d never feel a love like theirs.

but he was a passionate person, and whilst she loved when that passion was directed to her, on other occasions it felt as if she were the second option. the other thing to occupy his mind when he got tired of racing.

teenage daydreams turned into nightmares. their young age meant they felt everything. and everything was intense and fiery and red. 

how ironic it was, that the color that had best described their secret relationship turned into a color that would chase him around wherever he went. that right when his career seemed to go the up, when his future looked gold, his personal life had hit an all time low, when the scarlet fire that burned between them had turned into ashes. 

she always knew he was destined for greatness. and he was so determined and focused and so in love with racing that it was only natural, only obvious that he’d climb his way to the top teams of his sport in a short time. his talent was one that she’d neverseen in anyone, and he loved showing it off, not in a braggy way, but he knew what he was capable of, and he wasn’t afraid to show it, he saw no reason to hide it. 

age 18.

“slow down!” she yelled as she laughed, holding onto the side of the car door. all the windows were down, as was the top, they were finally putting to good use charles’ convertible car.

“don’t listen to her, charles, speed up!” one of their friends, nate, added from the back of the car. the five of them were celebrating charles’ birthday, he was the first in their group to turn 18 and he’d just gotten his driver’s license, finally free to drive around wherever he wanted.

charles laughed, speeding a little before settling for a constant speed that wasn’t too fast or too slow. 

“it’s a great thing your parents gave you a car, now we have a personal chauffeur,” she said, throwing a teasing smile his way. they were seating in the front, with their three friends in the back, but somehow it felt as if they were the only ones there.

“no, none of that. you have to learn how to drive, too, otherwise what are you going to do when i’m gone?”

“go with you, duh,” she rolled her eyes.

“hey, that is true, because at least we all know how to drive, we’re ready. but you don’t… why don’t you?” another one of their friends, elise, asked.

“i don’t know,” she shrugged, “i’ve never had the need to. and to be honest, i don’t know how good of a driver i’ll be if i ever sit behind the wheel.” she admitted.

“yeah, we’ve all seen you play mario kart, you always seem to find the wall.” charles laughed, making her hit his shoulder with a fist.

“shut up. keep that up and i won’t learn how to drive just to spite you.” 

they laughed, enjoying the moment of freedom, just the five of them, five friends since birth, friends til death. five friends, two lovers.

-

it had been years since the five of them were all back home for the holidays, sometimes either only one of them was gone, or they were all away, but after three years, they were all back home at the same time. and that was something to be celebrated. they’d all seen each other throughout the years, but never the five of them at once.

charles arrived first, the christmas dinner was taking place at elise’s apartment, she’d just moved into her new place, so this worked both as a reunion and a housewarming. he’d decided to walk there, since it was on the same street as his building. he took the elevator and knocked on the door, he heard shuffling of feet approach and wrapped his fingers a little tighter around the neck of the wine bottle he’d bought.

“hey, charles, i wasn’t expecting anyone to be punctual,” elise laughed, moving aside to let him in.

“i’m the first one here?” he asked, raising the bottle, “this is for you, by the way. congrats on the new place,” he smiled.

“thank you! welcome, make yourself at home, but do take your shoes off because that white rug is new,” she smiled, walking to the kitchen, “and yeah, but nate called like two minutres ago, he and marie are on their way.”

“oh, and…” he didn’t finish, and it was finally hitting him that he’d be seeing her again.

“(y/n) is going to be a bit late, she had to go to the museum in nice so she’s probably going to be stuck in a little bit of traffic,”

“she’s- she didn’t take the train?” he asked.

“no, she drove there.”

“she drives?” he asked, sounding completely surprised by that. she was always so apprehensive whenever that topic arose in conversation.

“yeah! you didn’t know? she’s… you remember how we always used to joke around with her always crashing once she learned how to drive?” charles nodded, prompting her to continue,  “she actually aced her driving test, both the technical and the written tests.”

“oh, i… i didn’t know that,”

“what happened with you two? you used to be inseperable. like, yeah, all five of us were close, but it was always charles and (y/n), and then us.”

“i- i’m not sure. i guess… distance and responsibilities was just a lot for our friendship.”

“well maybe you can rekindle that friendship now. it’ll do you both good.”

“yeah,” charles said, and right then the doorbell rang.

he felt like he needed some peace and quiet to think, but with his two friends arriving just then, that seemed impossible to get. 

if he was honest, he hadn’t given himself much time to think about her. at first, of course, she was the only thing in his mind, they’d spent six years together, and he couldn’t believe how it was all slipping from his fingers so easily.

age 21.

she sighed as she heard the automatic voicemail message, she had been trying to call charles for the past five minutes and all she was met with was his pre-recorded message.

“charles, you better pick up this damn phone. i can’t believe you, how could you miss this? i asked you time and time again, even moved this three times for you. and where are you? not here. i- i don’t know if i can keep doing this. you always promise that i’m your priority, but that’s just not true. if you don’t want to be with me then just say it, i’m a big girl and i can handle it. but i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve to be someone’s second choice. and i know that your career is important, trust me i know that better than anyone. all i asked of you was one night, one night for you to actually be there for me. you know what? forget it, don’t even bother coming. not to the museum, or to my apartment. and don’t worry about me, i’ll find my way home. i don’t need you to drive me around anymore.”

she hung up, staring out to the city of nice. it was the opening of a new exhibit in the museum of modern and contemporary art, an exhibit that she’d been a big part of, probably her proudest achievement, considering she was still a student in university. everyone was there for her. her parents, friends, classmates and workers from the museum. well, almost everyone. 

charles hadn’t replied since earlier that morning. he didn’t wish her good luck, or even acknowledged the opening of the exhibit. he just said ‘see you tonight’. and that was it. he was in italy, had been for the past week. ever since the announcement that he was making the switch from sauber to ferrari she’d been seeing him even less than when he started racing in f1. she understood, of course, that there were certain responsibilities that came when being a ferrari driver. she knew that, she was his biggest supporter, but she wished that he was as passionate about her achievements as she was of his. or even acknowledge them and congratulate her. 

many times she’d told herself that she was being selfish, of course things were going to change once charles made it to the big leagues, but things were changing too fast. he spent more time away from home than with her, and when he was home he was practicing on his simulator, or preparing for an interview, a ferrari event. 

this was the last straw. it was a long time coming, and him not showing up, not even bothering to text back, this was enough.

she walked back inside, but stumbled into a waiter passing by, causing him to drop his tray on top of her. her dress now sported a wine-colored stain right in the middle. it was a dress charles had gifted her on one of their anniversaries. it was poetic, how the dress was now ruined, as was their relationship. she ran to the coat room, wrapping her black coat around her. she wasn’t going to let anything else ruin this night.

the next morning, she signed up for driving lessons.

two weeks later, she was getting perfect marks on both tests.

she once said she wouldn’t learn to drive just to spite him, but this was better. to show him that she didn’t need him anymore. 

-

the four friends were having a nice time, drinking wine and eating chips and other snacks as dinner was cooking. 

“elise, i swear, next time we’re hanging out at my place because finding a parking spot is impossible around here,” a new voice said, walking in through the front door. 

there she was.

wearing a tan, long coat, a briefcase-style bag hanging from her shoulder, all black turtleneck sweater, leggings and boots on. makeup done to perfection, a deep shade of red on her lips. 

“hello everyone,” she smiled, tossing her bag on the floor and walking to the dining area. “what did i miss?” she asked, and everyone started filling her in on their previous conversation topics.

she hadn’t even glanced at him. not once.

charles didn’t even know if she knew he was coming, if he was there at all. 

-

it wasn’t until later, when everyone’s cheeks were flushed from the wine, when the leftover food was growing cold in the forgotten plates, and they were all sitting around the living room, sharing stories and memories of years’ past, that they talked to each other.

“... and the museum is doing a really cool charity event in late january, so that’s where all of our focus is right now,” she finished catching everyone up to speed about her job in the museum. ever since college that place had become her home. “you’re all invited, of course, we need all the help we can get.”

“when is it?” charles asked, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was impressed by everything she was handling in the museum, she did a little bit of everything, but those little bits eventually turned into big, great things. he was impressed, however, not surprised. he always knew she could do it, she’d fallen in love with art in her teenage years, the first time they visited a contemporary museum. they’d gone together, of course, and charles couldn’t forget the way her eyes widened, the way she clearly understood what the artist wanted to say, it was love at first sight. 

“the 21st,” she turned to him. charles had expected a reaction from her, but she looked at him like he was just her friend. 

“we’ll be there,” nate said. 

“you’re not busy, superstar?” marie joked, looking at charles.

“i don’t think so. and if i am i’ll just move whatever to a different day.”

“you don’t have to do that,” she said, and this time charles caught something. her voice sounded a little harsher.

“i want to, we haven’t seen each other in so long, and you’ve done a lot for me, it’s only fair that i return the favor,” he smiled, wanting to get something more out of her, he got nothing, only a nod.

-

age 19.

“come on, you’ve been, quite possibly, the best person i ever could’ve asked for. it’s only fair i return the favor.” charles said, keeping his hand over her eyes as he led her to the surprise he’d prepared for her.

“you know i don’t need anything,” she chuckled, and he could feel her smile, the apples of her cheeks rising.

“well, this is more something for me, but it’s going to be good for you, eventually,”

“what do you mean?” she asked, still up for whatever he was planning. he removed his hand from her eyes. “what-”

“it’s your very own private driving lesson,” charles explained, making her laugh.

“charles, i don’t need to learn how to drive,”

“of course you do! you have to at least know the basics,”

“gas, brake, turn to the right, turn to the left, lights… i think i got it.”

“come on,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her, “why don’t you want to learn?”

“i don’t know. i guess… i enjoy having you to drive me around, i like singing in the car with you, with the wind blowing in my hair, or just sitting in silence and watching the landscapes outside. i like doing that with you. plus… i’m afraid of having control of a car, because what if i lose control? what if the brakes fail, or someone crashes into me… it’s a lot to think about all the time. i think i’m just not made for driving.”

“well, lucky for you i was made for driving, and i like having you as my co-pilot, there’s no one else i’d rather have by my side.”

-

“it’s gifts time!” nate said loudly. “i’ll start,” he declared, standing up and picking a bag off the floor. “for you,” he started, handing a white envelope to (y/n), “and you,” he said, giving charles a small box, “and you,” he gave elise a wrapped gift that resembled a mug in shape, “and finally, you,” he said, giving marie a thin, long box.

they all opened theirs, marie got a hand-made friendship bracelet. elise got a new mug, charles got a pair of boxers with lightning mcqueen all over them, and (y/n) got a ticket to an exhibit in a parisian museum.

elise was next, then marie. as marie sat down, after handing everyone their gifts, charles pulled out his phone, sending a few pdf files to their groupchat.

“merry christmas, guys.” he said as all their phones rang. they all opened the files, each named after one of them, they were confirmations to a hotel booking, as well as a scanned picture of what would be their vip passes for the italian grand prix in monza.

“charles!”

“no way!”

“italia, mio home, here i come,” nate said, pinching his fingers together.

she gave him a small smile, muttering a ‘thanks’ as she stood up.

“well, now i wish i hadn’t been last, nothing can top that off,” she said, “but i hope you all like these. merry christmas, i hope we get to spend many more years as friends, and more evenings like this.” she said, handing them all their gifts and sitting down to watch their expressions. she loved giving gifts. 

nate received a new gaming headset, eloise got a tea set, marie got a sweater, and charles got a replica of an f1 car, he inspected it closely.

“it’s made out of carrara marble,” she explained. 

“wow, it’s… beautiful, thank you.”

“you’re welcome, i’ve… nevermind,” she said, charles was about to ask her what she wanted to say but was interrupted with nate announcing he was leaving. marie left with him, and not long after she was saying her goodbyes too.

“i guess that’s my cue to leave, too.”

“i didn’t see your car,” she said, she would’ve remembered seeing his car parked somewhere.

“i walked here, i didn’t see the point in driving,”

“huh,” she said, grabbing her bag and hanging it from her shoulder. charles frowned as she walked to elise, hugging her. “well, i’ll give you a lift if you want.”

yes, yes, yes, please. yes. go with her.

everything inside of him lit up at her offer, part of him couldn’t believe she was even offering in the first place. he said goodbye to elise quickly, rushing after her.

“wait up,” he said, jogging to catch up. 

they didn’t speak as the elevator went down, she could feel his eyes on her, shifting away to try and be subtle. as they exited the building he had to follow her, he didn’t even know what car she drove. 

“you’re shitting me,” he said, looking at the silver logo in front of the car.

“what? not all of us can afford a ferrari,” she said, “what? you can’t be seen inside a mercedes?” she smirked. out of instinct, charles walked to the driver’s side, but stopped in his tracks as she unlocked the door and watched him standing there. “i know this is usually your side, but you’re a passenger for these next minutes,” 

charles was left speechless as he walked to the passenger side, it felt so foreign. especially when she was the one behind the wheel. he closed the door as he got in, and waited for her to turn on the car. he turned to her when she didn’t.

“seatbelt,” she reminded him.

charles couldn’t stop the small chuckle that left his lips.

“you’re a really responsible driver,” he said.

“of course i am. no one knows what might happen.”

“i- i have to say, it’s really weird seeing you like this,”

“i know. but… turns out i’m a damn great driver. it helps me relax, and it’s… thrilling, to work in sync with the right machine to get from point a to point b…”

“now you get what i feel with my cars.”

“i always got that,” she clarified. “i always knew how important driving is to you. it just hurt to know that it was more important than me.”

“it wasn’t- it-”

“oh, please,” she chuckled humorlessly, turning on the car, she checked the mirrors before leaving the parked space. “i’ve made my peace with that a long time ago, it’s okay to admit it. i’m but hurt. not anymore.”

“but it wasn’t i-”

“listen, i don’t… i don’t want to discuss this, racing was your number one priority and that’s completely fine, i get it. it’s normal to get so caught up in it that you forget about everything else. i’m sure i used to do that too, with the museum and all,”

“you did, but not like i did. and i… i’m sorry, for… making you feel like that.”

“like i said, i made my peace with that long ago, i don’t need an apology.”

“well, i still feel like i owe you one.”

“it’s fine, you don’t have to feel guilty. we were young, dumb, still feeling like we were teenagers, pretending to even know what future was like. we were each other’s first love, it’s normal to still have feelings.”

“do you?”

“what?”

“have feelings? for me?”

“i feel a lot of things, charles, and six years, plus so many more as friends, are not easy to forget. it would’ve been nice, you know.”

“what?”

“if you would’ve been the one. it’s a story just straight from a movie. do you think-” she cut herself off.

“what?” charles asked, and he remembered the other thought she’d stopped herself from saying out loud back at elise’s.

“do you think that… if one thing had been different… everything would be different? today? now?”

charles stayed quiet, thinking about every little thing he would’ve done differently. 

“maybe. yeah.”

“yeah,” she repeated.

she’d been driving around in circles, they’d reached charles’ building about five minutes ago, but she hadn’t stopped driving. she kept doing the same four turns over and over again. 

“what were you going to say… when you gave me the car?” he asked.

“oh, that. it’s… nothing, really. just… that i’ve had that for a long time.”

“since we…”

“it was going to be your birthday present.”

“and you never threw that away.”

“it’s made from the same material as ‘david’, i wasn’t just going to throw that away. or give it to someone who wouldn’t cherish it.”

“well… thank you. and congratulations on being a great driver, though… i don’t think the cameras will agree after seeing you pass here for the seventh time,” he said as she was making a right turn. 

“thanks. and i guess… i have to thank you, too. if we… if we’d never broken up i… i never would’ve become me.”

“that… hurt,” he admitted. “but i get it. i should also thank you. you… did so much for me, gave up so much that i… i guess i took you for granted. and it only took having you away from me to really know how much you did for me without me even noticing. so… thank you. and i like this new you. you seem… happy.”

“i am. but still… i can’t shake the feeling that i’m missing something.”

“what?”

“you. even though you made me grow up, i still feel like i need to have my teenage side, and… there’s so much i want to do, but new me is responsible, she’s proper, she’s professional. and sometimes, i get tired of all of it. you always made me feel like a kid, in the best way possible, you made me feel like everything was possible, that it’s okay to let loose and have an adventurous side. i need that, i miss that.”

“well, i’m staying here all month. and i’m more than happy to help you rediscover your wild side.”

“don’t say it like that,” she laughed.

“no, no, i didn’t mean it like that, but-” he chuckled, “i guess that offer stands, too.”

“not happening. not now, at least.”

“so there’s a chance?”

“i don’t know. we’ll have to see.”

“i know. here’s adventure number one: drive to the harbor.”

“the- why?” she asked, driving there, anyway.

“we’re about to take a midnight stroll,” he explained.

“okay, but…  why the harbor?”

“it’s not your typical stroll, we’re not the ones doing the walking.”

“then?”

“have you ever seen ‘sedici’?” he asked.

“what’s that?”

“my yacht.”

“a midnight boat ride?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“what do you say?”

“you better be a damn good captain as i am a driver,”

“you’d be surprised.”

“i’m ready to be surprised.”

[ghostbite0]

!! introduction !!

hi, i'm bite!!!

★ 21 — they/she/it | artist + animator + writer ★

other social media | redbubble | commissions

art is tagged as #artbites | askbox is tagged as #askbites

pfp ok w/ credit !!!

do not recolor / edit my art

my askbox is always open! i may not answer everyone and i don't usually accept art requests but i try my best!

this acc (obviously) does not condone racism homophobia incest pedophilia etc etc

i dont create nsfw content or share it! however the people i engage with may, so be mindful of content warnings and people’s boundaries!

content may be inconsistent… im a college student & i have several disabilities that make it more difficult :,D

i am a private person and i keep to myself, but if you wave, i will wave back! please feel free to ping me, especially if you’ve made something for me!!!

persona/mascot

meeee!

au hashtags

masterpost in progress

★ thank you for supporting me!!! ★

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

I love you 3000 writing bonanza!

I’ve hit 3000 followers!!!

Now if you remember a while ago I asked how you guys would like to celebrate and this is what I’ve come up with! If you remember my 2.5k Followers Writing Challenge and Exchange its kinda similar to that but I’ve made some improvements!

What is going to happen is I am going to open up my askbox/dms for requests!

To make this manageable and allow me to complete as many as possible I will only be accepting requests in these following forms:

1) A question about a character or series

For example: How would X characters feel about Y character doing XYZ?

2) A What If…. For one of my series

For example: What If the character for X series met 10 years prior

3) A request using a maximum of 3 of the prompts below (the list is hella long so I’ve put it below the cut!)

For Example: Ari Levinson / Mob AU / You won’t get away so easy

If I receive a request that does not fall into one of these three categories then I will not fulfill it!

And because I like for everyone to be able to get involved if you yourself are a writer/want to give writing a go and you like any of the below prompts feel free to use them (the max of 3 doesn’t apply to you guys) all I ask is that you tag me, use the hashtag Niamh Loves You 3000, use appropriate warnings and let me know which ones you’re using so I can keep my eye out!

If you are writing a fic using the below prompts I ask you to follow these rules:

No sexual relations with minors, no somnophilia, necrophilia, incest, toilet stuff, snuff, or beastiality!

Dark Fics are allowed (Non-Con/Dub-Con) but they MUST BE APPROPRIATELY TAGGED!

Any creation MUST BE ORIGINAL! No stealing, stealing is bad!

The creation if part of a series must be able to be read as a stand alone!

No word limit! If it’s over 500 please use the read more function!

All the prompts are below the cut, remember its a max of three, but you can mix and match as you like so the possibilities are endless!

Characters:

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Andy Barber

Frank Adler

Ari Levinson

Curtis Everett

Johnny Storm

Jake Jensen

Ransom Drysdale

Any other Chris Evans character

Trope:

Fake Dating

Only One Bed

Enemies to Lovers

Friends to Lovers

Cuddling for warmth

Trapped together

Mistaken Identity

One night only

Love Triangle

Fated Mates

Childhood Sweethearts

Grumpy x Sunshine

Forbinned Love

Forced Proximity

WILDCARD! (You can pick an Trope not listed!)

AU:

A/B/O AU

Mob AU

Sports team AU

College AU

Emergency Service AU

(Medieval) Royalty AU

(Modern) Royalty AU

Pornstar AU

Fairytale / Fantasy AU

Biker AU

Soulmate AU

Band/Musician AU

WILDCARD! (You can pick an AU not listed!)

Dialogue:

"I told you not to touch that"

"I'm tired of answering that question"

"Why didn't they come?"

"I'm so sick of pretending everything's okay"

"don't just stand there! do something!"

"do you remember that night in [insert place]?"

"is there a problem here gentlemen?"

"what on earth happened here?"

"there's blood everywhere"

"Get in the van!"

"I'm not saying you're a bad cook, but even the flies in the kitchen wear gas masks."

"I may be a terrible dancer, but I've got great moves in bed."

"I'm not high maintenance; I'm just low tolerance for mediocrity."

"I love the sound of your voice and the way you say my name."

"Being with you feels like coming home."

“You're not the person I thought you were."

"I never imagined my life without you."

"I never got to say goodbye."

"I'm so glad you're here to point out my flaws. I would never have noticed them on my own."

"Oh, don't worry about being late. We'll just sit here and wait for you forever."

"I'm sorry. Did I ask for your opinion?"

"Why do you always insist on seeing the worst in people?"

"It's not my fault you can't handle the truth."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want."

"You think you're better than me, but you're not."

"I'll use anyone I need to achieve my goals."

"You've made a huge mistake, and now you're going to pay for it."

"Don't you realize how much you've hurt everyone around you?"

"you have no idea what you do to me"

"don't you dare go slow"

"I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow"

"move and you won't be coming tonight"

"hands behind you're back"

"Beg for it"

"you can take it, you've done it before"

"I'm going to fucking ruin you"

"do you think you deserve a reward/punishment?"

"show me how much you missed me"

"Are you holding back? don't"

"shall we put your mouth to better use?"

"Slowly, I'm not going anywhere"

"I said I'd take care of you"

"Please, I can't sit still"

So there’s absolutely so many to pick from covering fluff, comedy, angst and smut 😉 don’t forget to follow the rules I’ve set out above!!

I love you all 3000 🩵🩵🩵

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

“i’m never more at peace than i am in your arms.” with Steven Grant

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader

Word Count: 887

A/N: Just opened up my askbox for some requests!

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, poorly-edited

The service had been a lovely one. The reception even lovelier. 

The reception is even lovelier. 

Having stepped outside of the venue and into the cooled heat of the summer night for a moment’s rest from the festivities, you feel as if it was all a memory, a misfiring of neurons that made you believe that the day had truly happened. 

You’re tired, tuckered out. The type that only comes from not eating enough and feeling too much. 

Your bones ache, there’s a film of something stuck to your skin and inside your lungs. You’ve spent too much of the day outside, with too many people you’d spend at most an hour with. 

A grating static is littered like chalk dust inside your mind. The more you try to wipe it away the worse it gets. 

A rumble of laughter flows out from the open window, and it goes straight to your head in the worst of ways. 

It’s a horrid combination of too many things that, each one in moderation, would be alright to handle but put together like this are too much at once. 

You’re oversaturated. 

There’s an increase and decrease in noise as the door opens and closes, the bit of a drag on the second step that lets you know that everything is going to be alright, that you no longer need to struggle to keep the cracking mask on. 

“Hiya love,” his voice is warm, like the sun. “Everything alright? Lost each other in there, didn’t we? For a bit.” His arm comes to curl around your waist, he pulls you close to him. 

Everything is alright now. 

Guilt crawls up your throat at the poorly-hidden worry in his voice, “Sorry about that.” He’s wearing the cologne you got him for Valentine’s three years ago. He’s on his second bottle now. “Didn’t mean to run off.” 

“Well you didn’t go very far,” Steven shrugs. The movement against your own body is a redemption in itself. There’s a purr of laughter around his voice, “If anything I’d say it was a piss-poor attempt at running off.” 

You smile and laugh, breathing coming to you a little bit easier now that his body is warming yours up, now that it’s just the two of you again. “Didn’t take you long to find me.” 

He shrugs again. You suppose there isn’t an answer to that anyways, the pull between you and Steven inexplicable, though entirely tangible to the both of you. 

“You feelin’ alright, though, dearie? Somethin’ on your mind?” His free hand presses against your forehead, the side of your face. There’s a dimple between his eyebrows. 

You turn and look up at him, pressing the length of your body into his side. Even the rub of the fabric of his pants against your skin is enough, the truth of his own skin underneath shining through it all like seaglass. 

You know for a fact there’s a dopey grin on your face. Your arms come to circle around his neck like Saturn’s rings, your fingers come to play with the ends of his hair, “Just you.” 

“You wanna go home? Really, I wouldn’t mind, the band was gettin’ a bit on my nerves if I’m being honest,” he turns away for a moment, his voice dropping to a grumbling tone like it always does when he complains. “Don’t know what kinda stick that trumpeter's got up his arse but he’d be doing us all a good favour if he took it out and threw it far, far-.” 

“Steven,” your voice isn’t harsh, a gentle callback to the moment between you two that existed free of any trumpets. “I’m alright now,” you cup his cheek, gaze into the coffee cups of his eyes. He’s more concerned than you initially took it for, his light-hearted teasing a paper-thin veil. “Just needed a breather.” 

“You sure you don’t wanna go? It’ll be much nicer at home, Gus’ll be there n’all.” 

Steven loves live music, despite his complaints. He’s notorious for being the life of the dance floor whenever you two go out, and his eyes are still twinkling, the need to dance still present in his soul like a blossoming tulip. 

“I'm never more at peace than when I’m in your arms…when I’m with you,” you smile, trace the ridges and grooves of his nose, press your thumb into the prominent pockmark on his left cheek, right above his mouth. “Thanks for coming and finding me.” 

“‘Course honey, ‘course,” he swallows, tightens his grip on you a little. “You really wanna stay?” 

You nod, “I think I’ve got an hour or two left in me.”

He doesn’t stray from your side once after that, sweat dampening his forehead as he spins and spins to the music he seemingly hated. In something beyond your soul, his presence is steady and quiet like a rusted anchor.  

Steven’s hand is warm and soothing in yours, his voice hoarse and scratched an hour later, after you’ve said your goodbyes and are heading out. 

Your feet ache a little. For some reason, the nails of your hands are throbbing. Your soul is calm, soothed. 

As always, all you really needed was Steven. 

And Steven always came to you.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here, requests here.