#bc art addiction remember?

[ink-the-artist]

Video game I saw in a dream. It was in this low poly style like an older video game. You play as this character I think was meant to be a lamb, or maybe a weird mix of a lamb a mouse and a rabbit, (while not really looking like any of those things) and you’re running away from a wolf. Your objective is to last as long as possible before the wolf catches and eats you.

The house you’re running in is endless and bizarrely put together like most building interiors in dreams are (like the infinite toilet dream dimension on Reddit lol) the layout of the house is pretty detailed, you can stop and hide in places like closets or bins while the wolf looks for you, you can go up and down stairs and into rooms etc.

You never actually know where the wolf is or how close it is to you until it appears in your line of sight, it makes no noise and the game gives you no way of knowing where it is, and it’s pretty unpredictable it doesnt move at a consistent pace. When the wolf catches you there’s an animation showing it eating your character

[mumblesplash]

do you ever end up accidentally getting super attached to a trope so specific and rare you don't even know how to look for it? 'space aliens failing to understand that a human showing teeth usually isn't a threat display' isn't even an ao3 tag. finding that shit in published fiction or tv shows is next to impossible

[troublcmakcrs]

you'll learn right now , i don't play nice / and if you hurt me once , 𝙄'𝙇𝙇 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙏𝙒𝙄𝘾𝙀 ! / and i won't go first ( 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝔀 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 ) / 'cause i'm the last bitch up , ＴＨＥ ＦＩＮＡＬ ＧＩＲＬ ！

finalgirl!tweek to go with @feldspar-thethief's ghostface!craig au lol

[nereidprinc3ss]

mojave ghost

in which spencer reid spends the night with fem!reader—a total stranger—because she just feels so familiar. based on the song "my life in art" by Mojave 3.

18+ (implied intimacy) warnings/tags: based on a song about a stripper who runs away from her abusive boyfriend. tws for mentions of physical abuse. r has bruises from pole dancing. a little ooc bc Spencer hooks up with someone he just met but that's the point and if u know him like I do u know its not completely impossible. mentions of typical cm violence/murder. one brief mention of spencer's addiction. spencer's childhood trauma and abandonment. it's kind of just a heavy one, lmk if i'm missing anything a/n: I doooo suggest you listen to the song first just to feel the vibe of the piece and also how it is literally about Spencer Reid. and also bc its gorjus. anyways its been a while and this is not my most standard content but pls lmk what u think and if u liked it <3

He shouldn’t have done it. 

But when he saw you, sitting in a metal folding chair next to some peeling veneered-desk, his breath caught. Something primal deep in his stomach tugged the way it does when he finds little external fragments of himself, calling out to him—usually nonhuman objects. He’s seen himself in books, still warm from the hands that held them but ultimately forgotten on a bench or in the airport, needles in alleys or in between tiles on his bathroom counter, in shards of glass, in a hundred open wounds and dead animals, abstractly gutted on the side of the street. 

When he does see himself in a person, it’s in alarming glimpses. The man in the sleeping bag on the corner who talks to people that aren’t there. The lost child crying on the subway platform, rooted to the spot and still gripping the straps of their little backpack with responsible fists. It’s never anything he wants to know about himself, but this identification, this taxonomy and recognition of sameness—it’s so strong it stops him in his tracks, every time. He never really relates to the people he’s supposed to. Not Hotch. Not Gideon. Not even Maeve, in the way he’d so naively hoped for. Three people, all incredibly intelligent, at times standoffish. Used to being on the outside. All still possessing things and redemptive qualities he doesn’t. And what Spencer has secretly believed about himself for what has recently become a very long time, is that he is defined by his lack. The shape of him is made of negative space. He feels like whatever is in your lungs when you’ve pushed all the air out. 

And then, you. 

Physically, you look nothing alike. And he stops and lurches and does a double take like he’s seen his doppelgänger or been startled by his own reflection in a passing window anyway. Maybe it’s the way you hold yourself—hunched, foot tapping, head hung but still scanning the room, ever vigilant as you pick at your nails. You want to be small. You want to fold in yourself so many times you become a black hole. Spencer knows this. 

Something calls out from deep inside him, from all around him, that is not quite in his voice, but feels like grasping and reaching. 

I know you, I know you. 

He doesn’t catch himself in time before he’s walking toward you like he’s been waiting for you. 

Of course your head snaps up at the same time as he stops, and your eyes are shiny but not teary—frozen over with a layer of thick, dark ice like you’d carried the cold inside with you. You look caught. He searches for some sort of recognition in your eyes, anything to betray the fact that you have met before, because he never forgets a face but he knows what familiarity feels like and he can’t remember meeting you. 

His throat forms around something but the wrong word comes out. Halting, like he’s trying to lasso it and pull it back in. 

“Hi.” 

You pull your scarf down—a deep Roman purple—to reveal a pretty mouth, lips chapped by the unforgiving freeze outside. 

“Hello,” you say, politely, considering his probably strange behavior. He gives you a proprietary scan. Utility coat over a thick grey sweater. Jeans, cuffed at the bottom but still nearly too long, probably belted, although he can’t tell from the posture and the sweater. Brown boots. Your bag is a frayed tapestry of neutrals and patches. Fingerless knit gloves. You’ve given yourself false density, let the clothes swallow you up. Shapeless. Nearly faceless, magnet eyes framed between the scarf and the hat. But you’ve got a name. Everyone has a name. There’s yet to be anything humanity has discovered and not bothered to name. 

He forgets to ask. You clear your throat. 

“Um, I spoke to someone on the phone—Aaron, I think? We’re supposed to talk.”

Spencer tries to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

“Yeah, um, I can—I’ll… go get him.”

He turns away and breathes for the first time since he saw you, but he feels you behind him. He’s aware of exactly where you are in relation to the back of his head, he can feel you, like a hot spot, all the way to Hotch’s door. He lets himself in, slipping between as small a gap as he can manage and shutting the door gently behind him. Hotch looks up, not noticeably displeased at having been interrupted in his endless paperwork. 

What Spencer learns from his boss is this: you live in DC. You heard about a murder in Kansas—a girl, her hair still a fine, pale cornsilk. Barely not a child. You heard the details, and you called the cops, because you swear to god you know who did it, and they told you there was nothing they could do and gave you the number of someone who might be able to help, and so you followed a bureaucratic trail of phone numbers designed to discourage until you got to the BAU. Hotch says he’s going to interview you, but it’s probably nothing. 

“Actually, I’d like to do it if that’s okay.”

Hotch frowns deeper than usual.

“Why?”

Spencer swallows. Hesitates. 

“I finished my incident report early.”

Though he clearly has his reservations about Spencer’s sudden interest, Hotch is knee-deep in paperwork. So that’s how Spencer ends up in the round table room with you. 

You look too young, too raw to have been married, but you’re rubbing at your ring finger with the adjacent thumb like something is bothering you there. An absence that has become a presence. Negative space. You see things that aren’t there. Spencer knows that, too. Maybe you’re the kind of person who could look at him and see something.

That is his most intimate fantasy. He imagines it with you and feels the same kind of illicit shame and bloodied, starving hunger other people feel when they imagine sex or drugs or ravaging power; the way anyone imagines anything they want and can’t have.  

But he can’t put that kind of pressure on you. He can’t hold expectations like that. You’re a stranger. 

“Do you always do that?”

He points to your fiddling and gets that sour feeling in his throat he always does when he says something and wishes he hadn’t said it. That probably doesn’t show on his face. Most things don’t show on his face. Or maybe they do and nobody has bothered to tell him. 

You flex your pretty hand and then make a fist like you’ve been burned, probably to stop the compulsion. When you give a self-deprecating laugh, Spencer feels incredibly guilty for having pointed it out. But he doesn’t know how to talk to you. And at the same time, he almost expects it’ll be like talking to himself. Only nobody will give him odd looks. 

“Uh… old habit. I used to spin my wedding ring around when I was nervous.”

Used to. You’re especially too young to have been divorced. 

“You’re nervous?”

Your eyes flash as you look up to him. With what, he doesn’t know. Lightning, maybe. Electrical impulses that are a little less well insulated in you than in everyone else. 

But maybe he’s projecting. 

“Yeah. I feel crazy. But I was with a guy for a while who—and he was from Kansas—who would always, like, talk about… about hurting people. And I thought it was a joke at first, but… he laughed, at other people’s pain. He liked to hurt people. And animals. His dad had a farm, so I thought it was maybe he was just cavalier about life and death, but it was more than that. And he lived… he lived in that town. Where that girl died. He probably knew her. I… I probably knew her.”

Spencer’s heart sinks and he clears his throat like the force could bring it back up the right level again. 

You’re not his soulmate. You’re just paranoid. Looking for answers and resolution, like everybody else. 

The piece of himself he saw in you was just free radical damage. Instability. 

“Did he ever kill anyone before?”

“Wh—not that I know of. But I don’t really think he would’ve told me.”

But you would’ve known. You’re here because you’re lost. 

“Did he ever seriously injure anyone?”

You swallow and sit up a little straighter. Heat lightning in your eyes, again. It makes him feel something. He sits up too, despite your indignance, because it’s entrancing. 

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“He… he…” you melt as quickly as you inflated and go back to spinning a ring that’s not there. It’s like watching technicolor go to black and white. “He’d beat people up. He cut them with broken beer bottles and… yeah. A lot of other shit. He was just… he was crazy. He wasn’t… okay.”

The way your gaze flickers back and forth like you’re reading pages of a book or perhaps in REM as you recount in vague detail what your ex had done clues Spencer into the fact that you’re extremely traumatized. The way you make sure to emphasize that your clearly abusive ex wasn’t okay clues him into the fact that you care too much. That you’re too quick to excuse people’s bad behavior, or dismiss it, because you know how it feels to be dismissed entirely and you don’t want to make anyone else feel the way you’ve felt. 

Or maybe he’s still projecting. Maybe he’s idealized you in these few short minutes since you met and he’s too far gone. Maybe he should’ve let Hotch do this interview after all. In fact, he absolutely should’ve. 

But the worst thing by far he did was ask to walk you to your car after all was said and done. 

The interview went on for over two hours, and he’d learned things about you he suspects you’ve never told anyone before, and thus has learned about himself, and the building is mostly empty when you finally leave. The work day is over. So he selfishly asks you to wait while he gathers his things—buttons his coat, wraps his scarf, packs his bag—and then he soaks in the silence on the elevator because it’s that terrible, beautiful space between where you first cross the line and when you do something unforgivable. Asking to walk you to your car was crossing the line. 

Sleeping with you was unforgivable. 

And he didn’t care. Maybe he knew he was going to do this from the moment he saw you. Spencer never does this. The knowing that it was going to happen is quite a distinct flavor of intuitive knowledge and it was always on the back of his tongue. 

You’re silver and purple, a streak, a blur, you move too fast to keep up with and even when you’re perfectly still the atoms around you scramble like they’re jonesing. You inspire movement. You are movement. But he gets to see you slow, and despite having known you only a few hours, he knows this is nothing short of a natural phenomenon. A once in a lifetime sort of shooting star. That’s where the silver comes in. 

The purple, though—it’s in strange places. Around your upper arm. Between your thighs. On your knees and shins and hips. The first time he noticed it he couldn’t ignore it, but he couldn’t very well ask what’s hurting you while he was touching you in a way that was decidedly not painful, if he wanted to keep it that way. And he did. He wanted to keep you looking at him through half-lidded eyes like he was something to see. 

Still, he can’t notice it and then fuck you without saying something—or maybe he could, and you desperately want him to and you ask for it and maybe most people would, but he won’t—so he brings it up. 

“I lead a very active life,” is your whispered excuse, shaped by a smile that is something like mischievous. And then you’re kissing his flushed neck and making your descent and so he can’t ask very many questions. 

It’s only in the precarious after that he can fit his questions in, which is dumb and he knows that, because you’re a dizzying contradiction of cagey and flighty and really the slightest thing will send you running. It’s funny how he knows that after a few hours and sex. Sex can tell you so much about a person. Spencer has compiled all the data from his experiences and decided sex is radically more effective a profiling tool than interview. 

You’re on his pillow, lying on your stomach, and his hand is in your hair. Falling in love is quite a distinctive taste as well. Or at least, the recognition that if you spend enough time around a person you will, beyond a shadow of a doubt, fall in love with them. It is almost the same thing. It aches because it’s there and the proper thing to do is pretend it’s not. 

And his hand is in your hair. And your eyes are closed, and you look like you might fall asleep, and he should be beyond grateful for all of these things. He is. 

But that pesky desire to ameliorate, to improve and make better, and fix and heal, is too strong. Probably it’s the only way he thinks anyone will love him, is if he makes himself useful. That’s no revelation to him. The thought is not shocking whatsoever. It’s just true. 

So he asks again. You blink your eyes a quarter of the way open. 

“Hazard of the job.”

“What job?”

You make a noncommittal noise of reluctance—a discontented puppy’s whine, half-asleep. 

“I’m a circus freak.”

He laughs and remembers to keep scratching your scalp. The way you smile, eyes closed, is infectious. 

“Yeah? What’s your act?”

“Guess,” you challenge through the remnants of a smile, oozing satisfaction and glowing like a star. 

When he pauses to regard you, to seriously consider, studying the curve of your cheek and the color of your lips, you open your eyes again. 

“Tightrope walker,” he finally says, earnestly, so soft it could tear down the middle like gauze. 

Your answer is a smile into the dark. “How’d you know?”

The corner of his mouth vies higher. 

“I sensed a kindred spirit.”

Silence floods the room again, slowly, thickly, like molasses. It’s pleasant. You’re still here, in his bed, and he’s still measuring time with the pendulum of his hand in your hair. 

“What do you really do?” 

He expects you to be asleep. 

“Dancer.” Your lips hardly move as you say it, inflectionless, immediate. If his hand falters, it’s only momentarily. That explains the bruising, and so is a relief, as far as he’s concerned. But perhaps his silence is misconstrued. “Do you want me to go?”

It certainly doesn’t seem like you want to go. Your eyes aren’t even open. 

He keeps his voice low and gentle like maybe you really are asleep. 

“Why would I want you to go?”

“Don’t… do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t act like you’re not judging me.”

“I’m not judging you. I’m from Vegas. Your job is not a novelty to me.”

This time when your eyes slide open, there is a new, curious light behind them. 

“Really?”

He nods, distracted by a freckle just beneath your eye. 

“When I was ten I ran into my bus driver wearing two quarters as a shirt. And we weren’t even on the strip. We were in a Texas Roadhouse parking lot.”

You snort with laughter and it’s melodic, like twinkling crystals, like running water. Even as you hide your face behind your hand, he’s transfixed. God, he’s never cared about being funny before. Now he wants to make you laugh over and over again. He wants to keep you softer than you’ve ever been. The laughter fades slowly and he grieves it—but your hand sliding away from your face like the sun coming up from behind a mountain eases the ache. 

You reach out as if in a trance and run your thumb gently beneath his eye. He holds his breath as you make contact, butterfly light. Nobody has ever touched him like this before. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you murmur. A thoughtless observation. A truth cast to the breeze. Knuckles carefully follow the dip of his cheekbone—a cartographer, learning her way by touch. Marking her territory. He’d let you do it. His eye stings, ready to spring forth a river just so you can have the pleasure of discovering it. “Breathe,” you laugh, softly, and he does. 

“Sorry.”

You don’t say a thing. You let your fingers trace borders into his skin and follow them with soft eyes and he wonders what he’s ever done to deserve this kind of magic. He wonders if he’ll ever feel as good as he does right now, when it’s all over. Nobody has ever paid this much attention to him—but you’re intent, focused, like he’s art. 

“Tell me about Vegas.”

It takes him a moment to reply. 

“Hm?”

He feels bewitched. Warm. Foggy. A thumb brushes over his lips, but it’s only a pass, thank god, because he can hardly stand how you’re touching him already, at the high point of his cheek, beneath his brow. Finally getting enough sometimes feels awfully close to too much. He’s already almost cried once. 

“I wanna hear about Vegas. I’ve always wanted to go. Is it hot?”

Spencer will say whatever you want him to say, but he has to focus a little—like he’s speaking through honey. 

“In the summer, during the day. In the winter at night it drops to below freezing.”

“Desert-y,” you hum.

“Very.”

“Tell me more.”

There’s a rousing hunger in your voice and it reminds Spencer to want you again. He finds your waist and tugs you closer. Who is he with you?

Is he better? 

“There are 175 casinos in the city, but only thirty on the strip. There are 15,000 miles of neon tubing on the strip alone. It’s the brightest place on earth. You can see it from space.”

“Not that.”

Petulant. He loves it. 

His lips find the softness of your shoulder. “Then what?”

The only clue that you can feel what he’s doing to you is the twitch of your fingers on his cheek. 

“Tell me something… tell me exactly how it feels to stand in the middle of the desert. With nobody else around. Tell me things and details I couldn’t know about unless I’ve been there.”

At the junction of your neck, he pauses. This beautiful girl, and her beautiful brain—you are so disarming. So perfect. 

You shiver into him as his fingers brush up the back of your neck, gently pushing away hair so he can learn you everywhere. So he can remember your landscape, just like he’s doing as he closes his eyes and falls into memory. 

A gas station, off the side of the road—seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Desert all around. His dad’s ’79 Ford Fiesta—the one he didn’t take with him when he left. The driver’s door is open. Spencer’s dad has been inside for minutes. Spencer is watching from the middle of the road, because he looked out from the backseat of the Fiesta, and saw that dark, unassuming spot, and thought—how would it feel to be the darkness? What would I see if I were nothing at all?

When he gets there, and he stands on the sun bleached pavement, veined with spiderwebs of tar, and he sees this all from a distance—he realizes he feels exactly the same as he always does. So he pivots his head to the left. The road goes on until it disappears into the smudgy horizon. To the right, it does the same. The earth swells, far away, so many miles, so coal black, so impossible. Hardly even real. But there is something out there, he thinks. There is something, even if nobody else has ever been there, and I want to stand in the middle of it and I will learn how it feels to be nothing. I will not observe—I will become apart of the landscape, with the Joshua trees that have been there for a thousand years, and the rocks that haven’t moved in millennia. 

So he begins to walk. 

The rocks crunch under his feet, and that is the only noise. 

He walks for minutes. He walks until he knows the gas station will be small. He walks until he can feel the emptiness on the back of his neck, until it feels like an embrace. 

“It’s silent,” he hears himself say to you, in some other universe, decades in the future. “At night, it’s completely silent. You can hear yourself breathe. If you throw a pebble ten feet away, you’ll hear it hit the ground.”

Little Spencer takes a deep breath of inky air. 

“It smells like… geosmin.”

“What?”

Perfect. Your voice is perfect. 

“Dirt. But it’s not the same as dirt anywhere else. It’s… drier, like it’s smelled the same way for a really long time.”

Spencer’s cheeks burn. He’s doing a terrible job explaining.

But he feels your breath on his cheek—eager. Your hand at his shoulder as you lean closer, enraptured. Reverent, almost. 

“What else?”

What else?

Dry brush snags on the hem of the corduroys his mother had picked out for him. They’re a little too short. She’s going to try to take him shopping again tomorrow. It’ll work this time—they’ll get to the store. Mom’s just been having some trouble leaving the house lately. 

Rustling leaves skim the tips of his fingers as he reaches out for them, and keeps walking. When was the last time someone touched that shrub?

“There’s vegetation. Creosote, mostly, if you’re in the scrubland. Larrea tridentada. It’s dry—kind of twiggy, with green leaves and yellow flowers in the spring. The smell is bad, like asphalt, but you only notice if you get close.”

He hears his dad calling his name. It fades in and out. 

It’s dizzying, hearing his father’s voice. His father saying his name. 

It’s been a long time. 

“It’s so flat that things don’t echo. But because of the extreme variations in temperature the air pressure sometimes forces the sound waves to the ground and makes it impossible for them to propagate. They’re called the Santa Ana winds. Someone could be standing right next to you and if the wind blows at just the right angle, you won’t be able to hear them. But when it’s still, sound carries far.”

His father is angry. Or is he worried? 

Spencer can make out his dad, pacing frantically back and forth across the gas station pad, white button-up a glowing beacon even from this far away beneath the lone yellow street light. He looks so small. So very far away. Ant-like. 

Santa Ana comes slow—warmer than the night air around him, to ruffle his hair and rustle the dry leaves and blow soft clouds of fragrant sienna dirt around at his knees. It blows through him. For a moment, it wakes the desert up. 

Then it’s passed. It moves further down the desert and leaves Spencer behind. Things settle into silence again. He’s alone again. 

Spencer’s stomach flips as he realizes his father can’t see him this far away, this deep into the dark nothing. 

As he finally feels the enormity of the distance on all sides. 

Suddenly the void behind him is massive. Suddenly it is everything, and it is sucking him deeper. Nobody can see him. He could just disappear into 25,000 square miles of desert. He’s already, what—a thousand feet gone? More? The weight of all the infinite space behind him presses, and he thought it’d feel interesting but it feels like dying and there has never been so much regret or dread curdling in his stomach before. His face crumples, eyes stinging in the dry air, and he takes one step forward, and then another, and then he runs like he’s running for his life. But he doesn’t feel chased—no, that’s the worst part. He is running from an infinite, vacuous, nothing. Dad! He screams, but even this young he knows how sound waves work in the desert and he can tell his dad can’t hear him and he’s running and screaming until his lungs burn, and the scrub lashes at his ankles, and it has been the same for a thousand years and it will stay the same for a thousand more with or without him. Dad, I’m right here! He sobs, the words ripping up his throat with desperation as they go. 

Finally, finally, he’s heard, and he’s close enough to see his dad seeing him, he stops pacing and stares dumbfounded at the little boy appearing from the desert, sneakers slapping cracked asphalt. He gets closer and closer until he can see the lines on his father’s face and the color of his eyes and he sobs as he crashes into him. His dad’s hands are vice-tight around his arms, as Spencer cries and can’t breathe and thrashes like a fish out of water. 

What? Is all his father can manage, tight and baffled and afraid and the first word of a question he doesn’t even know how to ask. He says it again and again, like a skipping record; what—what? What?

On the drive home, Spencer sits in the backseat, a bottle of Bug Juice in his lap. His ankles sting, whipped and bloodied and punished for wearing too-short pants. 

The silence is cloistering and at the same time, completely par for the course. He does not expect his father to speak to him, but he sort of thinks maybe another father would. 

Outside, the black spine of distant mountains rolls on forever and stays impossibly far away. He peers out into the nothing, past what the moonlight can illuminate—and now, he doesn’t have to wonder. He knows how it feels. Imagines another little boy made of shadows, as far away from the road as he’d been, and feels sick from all that fruit juice. He won’t ask his dad to pull over—all he wants is to get rid of that feeling on the back of his neck, like he’s dissolving into space. Like he’s the only thing for miles and miles. 

But the problem is—the feeling doesn’t go away. 

Not in the driveway. Not in the bath. Not in bed, later that night. 

Spencer did a bad thing and he wishes he could go back to normal. He wishes he didn’t get that desert feeling when he was surrounded by other people. But it comes back, again and again. At school. When he tentatively asks for new pants and his mom throws a vase at the wall and then sobs on the floor for forty minutes. When a few weeks later, his dad leaves, and doesn’t take the Ford with him—so it sits under the carport, greets him on his way to school every morning, and over the course of years the windshield turns opaque with dust. 

He hasn’t stopped feeling that way since. 

“You okay?”

A long, soft breath draws him back into his body. Into his bed. 

Not creosote. Not geosmin. Not the Santa Ana winds, coming from the deepest parts of the desert and carrying their desolation to him. Shampoo. Warmth. A girl who smells sort of like him, now—a girl whose perfume is all over his neck and chest and pillow. 

You’re there. You, a stranger. You, a girl he’s going to fall in love with. You—the only person he ever brought into the desert with him. The only person who ever brought him back. 

Point Nemo is not in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Asphodel is not in the underworld. It’s a little less than half a mile out across from an old gas station on the I-15 in the middle of the Mojave desert. 

Spencer nods because he can’t bring himself to speak just yet. 

You smile and take the time to find his hand in the dark. 

“Felt like I was out there with you. Thanks.”

And he squeezes your hand—because for the first time, it feels like someone is going to come looking for him. 

lyrics from my life in art <3

[princesssmars]

a few ellie headcanons bc i like her c: sfw.

she is a backpack lesbian. always has a tiny backpack. they are always black or a dark green. will sometimes get a patterned one. maybe has bananas on it. wants to put stickers on basically all of them but won’t because she gets paranoid they’ll get ruined.

i can’t find the post and ong i don’t remember what type of snack girlie i said ellie was but yes. this bitch loves snacks. always snacking. had a four month long addiction to jello it was a little scary.

she can cook for herself! she can make a damn good burger. hates tomato’s because she’s a baby 👎🏽

feel like she likes the weirdest cereals ever…like bae why are you eating kit kat cereal

runs super cold and always has a blanket. lovesss those super thick fluffy blankets that make you wanna fall asleep immediately. begged joel for one of those full body blanket snuggie things and he kept forgetting so she bought a matching dinosaur set with jessie and she loves it.

despite running cold her bedroom fan has not turned off in thirty years.

loves trivia. likes to play are you smarter than a fifth grader because you are NOT gonna catch her fuckin lackin.

likes mixmatched socks. her dryer is always eating half of her pairs so she grows to like it.

calls things pretentious and overrated as a joke bc she is annoying. watching a popular movie? she hates it the author is trying too hard. if she has a letterboxd she is either giving the most in depth review you’ve ever seen or a five star rating with a “cool”.

super nervous at the start of relationship yo show affection but when she’s locked in she is always on you…cuddles all the time. if you’re getting up to do something she is gripping around your waist. it’s cute until you need to go to the bathroom and she is insistent on going with you. once when she was high she told you she’d get a second toilet so you could go together 🫤

playstation girl yawn. she was hyped for elden ring then got her ass beat and didn’t play for a month before randomly deciding to finish it in two weeks.

whoever said she loves spongebob first was right…binges regular show when high. loves breaking bad. will act like she doesn’t like romance shows but if you make her watch the first episode she hasssss to finish it she can’t help ittt… sorry not sorry i’m making her watch bridgerton.

secretly watches those family guy adhd tiktoks

has a habit of watching movies through tiktok

and those space tiktok’s… comparing the gravity of different planets, what’s it’s like to fall through jupiters atmosphere.

likes orcas… watches marine life documentaries and gets emotional.

would know ur birth chart. ever forget ur big three signs? she knows. kind of scary. weird talent. doesn’t believe in astronomy buts knows every basic fact about every sign?? 😭

has two instagrams. her main is for her art and to post pictures with her friends and you. second she posts anything. and i do mean anything. will go from an introspective into idk why hoodwinked is underrated to

loves green it’s literally her color. needs some green in her dorm/apartment. thinks about this ahead of time so when she’s in middle school she starts buying tiny plants to take care of. at the start they’d die in like a week but now she has a dozen and they’re all healthy <3

bunch of posters on her bedroom walls. hates bare walls.

likes to try new hobbies every so often! is lazy about working out but when she does she gets on the treadmill and doesn’t break a sweat no matter how fast. kind of scary.

likes to go on the most random dates. you’ll be sitting on the couch and she’ll show you some random restaurant she saw on like instagram and be like let’s go. right now.

likes when you touch her hair. rest her on top of you while watching a movie and run your fingers through her hair? she’s out like a light. if you want to try different styles on it at home she will let you. doesn’t care if she has stupid looking like stubs everywhere she’s like c:

jesse told her she had a fuck ass bob once and she almost hit him :c

such a bike girl omg. i know she used to put water bottles in the back to make it sound like a motorcycle.

who first came up with that she loves spongebob because you’re so right. tried to act like she’s grown out of it but when she’s high and you’re trying to go to bed she’ll whisper “twenty five” to herself and laugh for five minutes straight.

spider-man girl because she’s cool.

pretends to hate all the dumb nicknames you give her when she does stuff. she makes a pb&j? shes now 'ellie jellie' for the rest of the week. has a stomach ache? now she gets to hear 'ellie bellie' for a month.

links for palestine, sudan, drc

[aruanimess]

any aruani fic recs that you are your favorite?

Hello, anon!

So I've made a couple of posts in the past about this, but perhaps it's time to make a more comprehensive list. Sadly, the list of my favorites hasn't been expanded that much in the past year bc life has been kicking my ass since I haven't had much time for reading while also working on my own writing. But here goes.

Starting with the one-shots because they often get ignored:

Silhouettes by Jelly

Reincarnation AU. Armin spirals into madness as he tries to remember his past life, with Annie at the center of it all. Beautiful and concise, it'll have you sobbing on the floor.

Graffiti Love by brandymallory

Reincarnation AU. Armin and Annie are graffiti artists communicating with each other via murals. The understated, shimmering longing paired with the coolness of the street art scene is something else.

A Fistful of Latent Images by @aquietjune

Post-Canon Fort Salta fic. Armin and Annie navigate their relationship amidst the chaos of a post-apocalyptic world. Extremely well-written with great pacing, it captures the dissonance of normality after absolute devastation perfectly.

Look! by @lucaaazd

Modern AU. Kid Annie, still reeling from the loss of her father and subsequent adoption into her best friend's family, rescues Armin from his bullies. Grief and trauma mixed with the innocence of youth, its haunting carefreeness will fill you with an odd sense of optimism.

a crash course in curve lifts by @corner-stories

Modern AU, ice-skating. Armin and Annie, athletes who usually compete individually, train to perform a Pair routine for a gala (hopefully I got the lingo right). The commitment these two show to each other and their craft is absolutely heartwarming.

Now the multichapter fics:

A warrior in name, A traitor in game by @diam-etrical

Inspired by The Hunger Games. EMA in Marley. Set in a universe where the Warrior candidates have to fight to the death in an arena to get their titans. This will have you at the edge of your seat for sure. Also the character dynamics are expertly crafted.

Cigarette Duet by @darcycrow

Modern AU, set in Istanbul. Armin is a transfer student and new in town, he and Annie share a smoking spot in the schoolyard and bond over their existential dread, love of cats and weird relationship to intimacy. I'm here for the dry wit, the psychoanalysis and the sharp commentary about dating in the modern world.

Tater Tots & Heavy Thoughts by Anonymous

Modern AU. Armin is a social worker with a traumatic past, Annie asks him to help her brother who's a recovering drug addict (and then asks him out). This fic handles some extremely sensitive issues with care and compassion, it's a story about healing and not letting your past define you. Absolutely captivating and at times heartbreaking.

My Yellow Light in Your Soft Whispers by @annawayne

Post-Canon fic. Set roughly ten years after the Rumbling, Armin and Annie try to rebuild their trust in themselves and each other after a traumatic event. One of the most romantic entries on this list, steeped in rich symbolism and metaphor, the love Armin and Annie share is carved in every word, phrase and sentence.

See You Again by @dudewhy3

Modern AU. Estranged childhood friends, Armin and Annie, meet again after years apart, only Annie is sick and Armin is her doctor. It's a beautiful story about enduring love, compassion, second chances and vulnerability.

Love Letters from the Skies to the West Coast by @midnightraine131

Modern AU. Pastor's son Armin befriends Annie, a Californian girl who's new in town and also a bit of a wildcard. This is a sweet and funny story about the batshit shenanigans kids get up to, but also about the stifling confines of small religious communities.

Abandoned but worth a read regardless:

These City Lights by Katsy0c0

1920s AU. Armin is an up-and-coming Hollywood director and chooses Annie as his leading lady. An oldie but a goodie, the setting is exciting and glamorous and the relationship between the two is sweet and thrilling.

I Shall Slay by GoldenDoodleLover

Modern AU. Crack fic. Armin is recruited by his lit teacher Levi into a team of students who shall be participating in underground rap-battles. Absolutely hilarious and the verses are kinda fire.

[notiddygothgf]

World famous rock star Choso Kamo's new live-in assistant is convinced that she can fix him -- substance abuse issues and all. Tensions ensue, and as new feelings rise to the surface, the two find it difficult to maintain an appropriate workplace relationship.

(or; the one where an unstable musician meets an assistant with a savior complex).

❝I GOT A BRAND NEW PLACE, I THINK I'VE SEEN IT TWICE ALL YEAR. I CAN'T REMEMBER HOW IT LOOKS INSIDE, SO YOU CAN PICTURE HOW MY LIFE'S BEEN. I WENT FROM STARING AT THE SAME FOUR WALLS FOR TWENTY-ONE YEARS TO SEEING THE WHOLE WORLD IN JUST 12 MONTHS, BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG, I MIGHTA JUST FOUND GOD.

WELL, PROBABLY NOT, IF I KEEP MY HABITS UP AND PROBABLY NOT, IF I CAN'T KEEP UP WITH LOVIN'...PROBABLY NOT IF WE TAKE 'EM TO MY SPOT. PROBABLY NOT, IF I TWEAK ALL DAY JUST TO SLEEP AT NIGHT, GOD DAMN, I'M HIGH. MY DOCTOR TOLD ME TO STOP, AND HE GAVE ME SOMETHING TO POP. I MIX IT UP WITH SOME ADDERALLS AND I WAIT TO GET TO THE TOP.❝

╭─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╮

▷ prologue

▷ the interview

▷ behind the scenes

╰─ ⋅ ─ ✩ ─ ⋅ ─╯

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : jun 6, 2024

cover art credits: @/2OARIN on twitter

streaming... Kiss Land (The Weeknd).

cw/tags: rockstar!au, loosely based off of 'the idol', keyword very loosely... bc it sucked., slow burn, mutual pining, sassy reader, not really enemies to lovers but let's just say they drive eachother crazy. toxic relationship, but it gets better, mental instability, mental breakdowns, mentions of relapse (will include tw!), implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism, recreational drug use, implied/referenced drug addiction, HE GETS BETTER I SWEARRRR, eventual smut, sexual tension, explicit sexual content, oral sex, doggy style, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, questionable decisions just like all around, dark romance, reader is a little delusional (me too its ok), rough sex, rough kissing, rough angry sex, just read it it'll be a sexy and amazing time, choso my beloved you can do no wrong, except maybe in this particular fanfic, LISTEN TO KISS LAND BY THE WEEKND.

[the-fiction-witch]

Hopelessly

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT

Requested :

Yess ty fiction which, I also have an idea so idk if u watched the show yet (u probably did) but the main girl lady belle, can u make it were y/n likes Jack and he likes us but y/n gets jealous and upset bc she thinks Jack likes lady belle and not us. It’s just a thought

I scampered my feet up the stairs of the hospital, My feet ached, my legs sore, and my lungs short of breath from the fact since first light I hadn't so much as sat down for more than a few seconds. But I was fueled by the power to lift four carriages and run from Port Victoria to Brisbane. I opened the door to the surgery theatre prep room where the tools, ties and other such items were laid out for the various surgeries. 

And there He stood.

Fixing up his sleeves as he was selecting between what blades he was to use today for the amputation. His dark brown shoes were caked with dusty dry dush dirt, and his brown trousers were patterned with a slightly darker brown plaid almost unnoticeable, his shirt typically white but dark around the sleeves from the constant blood it soaked in, his dark blue waistcoat done up tightly and the green tie around his neck in a double knot, His hair freshly fluffy in its usual style leaving me to assume he likely had a bath today, or yesterday night soon enough for his hair to still be that fluffiness. 

"The Medicine Doctor Dawkins," I smiled doing my best not to turn the colour of a bright poppy flower, my heart skipped a beat seeing him, my breath hitching, every ache or concern from the day work melted into the least of my concerns each one of them worth it for the mere sight of him. 

I had worked at the hospital as long as I could remember having taken over the role from my mother, I was technically a laundry and kitchen girl by definition but my role had changed since Doctor Dawkins arrived, we found quickly we had a mindset that worked similarly so often if he needed anything I'd be the one he would summon about it, and at this point I had all but become his scullery girl as well as all my other jobs around the hospital, but I didn't mind at all. Every moment with him was worth ten times the work I put in.

I was utterly, unequivocally, Hopelessly devoted to him. 

"Ahh." He perked up looking over to me a smile growing across his lips "There you are. I was wondering where my little nursey got herself off to." He chuckled cleaning his hands off, I blushed at his use of that name, his 'little nursey'. I wasn't a nurse of course but he had called me that as long as I remember but I didn't mind, I couldn't bear to stop him as my heart would flutter whenever I heard it. 

"Fetching the medicine, as you requested" I smiled taking it over to him 

"Thank you very much." He said taking the glass bottle from my hand his fingertips gracing my own as he did, taking the bottle and staring at diluting a dose for the patient, I merely stood beside him taking in the curves and valleys of his face, noticing my theory correct he must have had a bath this morning as I could smell his usually pine and eucalyptus soap as well as his familiar aftershave that I could only describe as addicting and heavenly. He glanced at me from his work his eyes flicking to me a moment "You have somewhere to be?"

"Ohh no, not really." I lied, I had a million jobs I could be rushing off to get on with but I wanted every single second I could get in this room alone with him,  

"Good. You can keep me company then." he smiled 

"You don't mind? I'll go if I'm any trouble." 

"No, you're no trouble nursey" He smiled "Could you fetch my apron for me?"

"Of course" I nodded rushing across the prep room to fetch it for him returning within a few small seconds 

"It's not a race you know. Take your time slow down" He chuckled slipping it on and quickly tieing it the way he liked it

"I just don't want to keep you waiting," I blushed 

"You are such a sweet little thing. Why can't all the nurses be like you." He said as his patient was brought into the theatre the crowd let into the stands to watch too "I'll see you later Nursey," he smiled taking my hand in his and giving my knuckles a sweet polite kiss before he headed out to the applause of the crowd. My body was utterly frozen as he had left me my heart beating out of my chest. My god I am a sinful girl. Unable to prevent my eyes from lingering. 

I stood in the prep room almost unable to move watching through the window as he worked, he moved almost in slow motion to me his every move being carefully chiselled on my mind, the sweetest sound playing in my mind drowning out the sound of the bloodthirsty crowd. Unable to prevent my smiles and my blush, I'm sure if surgeons had fan clubs I'd be at the head of his, I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help my devotion to him, praying mightily that he would one day see my unquestionable devotion and admiration, take me in his arms and make me his bride. But so far that had only been a wish, a several-year-long wish. I knew I was down badly, but I couldn't draw myself away, so much so he could tie me to the operating table and remove my arm without any painkillers, using a rusty blade and I would still thank him immensely. he could drag me by my hair though the graveyard and still I would only give him smiles, he could take my innocence and slap me across the arse and still I would be at my knees for him. Not that he would, I hope. 

"Y/n. Laundry." The head nurse Hetti snapped in my direction as she passed the door 

"Yes, Miss." I nodded quickly scampering out and down to the laundry room stopping short as I closed the door finally being alone again holding my hand tightly and pressing a kiss to my knuckle just where he had kissed hoping perhaps to get a taste of his lips. 

I finished for the day scrubbing at my body before slipping on my little nightie and climbing into my little bed, I took my book from the table and began to read the fantastical stories leaning my head against my pillow that sat vertically on my bed as if another body rested in it, so I rested my head there reading for a good hour or so before setting my book down and blowing out the candle, I turned over and wrapped my arms around the pillow resting my head as if I was hugging a body even wrapping my leg around it nuzzling my head into the soft cotton. 

"Ummmm..." I hummed "Goodnight Jack," I whispered giving my pillow a little kiss, and I closed my eyes tight my mind dreaming of his sweet voice whispering to me 'Goodnight my little nursey' before I drifted into my dreams.

When the sun came I woke early far earlier than I needed to be, but that was fairly normal. I stirred and shuffled in my sheets feeling the tension that had built between my legs from my sweet dreams, I glanced over my shoulder to my table to see my little clock knowing I had enough time for what my body so obviously wanted, I blushed hard giving my pillow a little kiss "Good morning" I cooed in a whisper rubbing my nose against the cotton, I adjusted myself a little moving my hand down to my thigh, tugging up my cotton nightie and slipping my hand under it meeting the heat between my legs I did gently stroke my skin but I knew quickly that already wasn't necessary, my fingers finding my already aching clit and rubbing little circles "Uhhh" I gasped quietly 

"Ummm good Morning my little nursey, aww whats this? you've been dreaming about me again?" he cooed between kisses down my neck "Well, I can hardly leave my little nursey like this can I?" his hands stroking over my body touching my most intimate places fondling my breasts, slapping my ass and replacing my hand with his own rough more callus fingers 

I slipped my fingers inside me using my index and ring fingers as they were longer and thus It made it more believable in my mind that they were his, "Uhhh! Jack!" I gasped as hushed as I could in the quiet morning light 

"Umm, what a good girl, say it again. tell them who you adore." He smirked mercilessly kissing me and touching me tugging on my nipple to harden it into his hand which he then plaid with 

"Uhh! Jack! please-" I gasped my other hand clutching my breast to rub and twist my nipple to match my fantasy to my pleasurable reality 

"You are so beautiful when you're like this for me. you're making me hard. My sweet little nursey going to take care of her doctor?" he encouraged "Come on, you know you want to?"

I blushed hard moving to sit up in bed and move my thighs to either side of the pillow, my hands still working hard 

"Ohhh that's perfect, You look so beautiful on top of me y/n. go on. you know I can't resist you like this." 

I moved my hand away and tightened my grip on the pillow with my thighs moving my hips back and forth grinding against my pillow riding it as if it really was him, the cotton and stuffing of the firm pillow rubbing against my clit each time I moved my hips "UUuuhh! Jack!" I gasped clamping a hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet knowing... the real Jack slept just on the other side of the wall in his own room and bed. 

"Ohh fuck- You are so beautiful. I wanna see you cum for me." He growled 

"Uhh uhhh" I whined quietly hearing my bedsprings begin to squeak as I sped up 

"Aww, what a good girl, My good little nursey. Come on let me see that body I love so much"

even if I was alone I tugged down my nightie to my waist exposing my bare breasts as I bounced and grinded  "Uhh Please jack..." I whined feeling close, playing with my breasts and nipples to give myself more pleasure and my wave hit suddenly my legs clamping on the pillow squirt flooding down my legs and onto my sheets and nightie, the wave of pleasure flooded from my head to the tips of my fingers and toes like a wave on the beach, "Uuuughhhhh!" I moaned luckily I put my hand there quickly to keep me quiet and as I reached such a high I heard a firm double knock on my bedroom wall just inches from me and I knew why. 

I blushed hard seeing the mess I had made and I fixed my nightie kissing my pillow before I climbed off, and made sure to tug my nightie down grabbing my cardigan and slipping it over my shoulders as I left my room going only a few inches down to the other door opening it without much of a concern finding myself inside his room. The room was littered with items his bed in the corner against the wall he shared with my own room, his servant man somewhere I didn't know, but Jack Laid in his bed still knotted with the sheets his head on the pillow clearly only a few moments into this world from his dreams, his hair a fluffy bedhead, his clothes littered the floor his bare skin exposed as the sheets only covered below his stomach. It was obvious he had woken up and knocked on the wall immediately as was typical most mornings. 

I blushed doing my best not to look like I was looking but, I was. trying to burn the image of him lying in his bed into my mind, I nervously adjusted my nightie just to make sure it covered me. 

"Good Morning Doctor Dawkins." I smiled as sweetly as I could 

"Morning Nursey" He yawns stretching his arm above his head 

"What can I do for you on this fine morning?"

"Can I trouble you for crumpet?" He asked 

"Of course No problem" I smiled pulling my hair into a ponytail and heading over to the small part of his room for cooking, taking what I would need from the cupboard, and starting up the stove to prepare him his breakfast "Did you sleep alright?"

"Fine, same as usual" He answered "You sleep alright?"

"Perfectly Pleasantly" I smiled as I worked 

"You alright y/n?" he asked I turned to see him and saw him giving me a strange look 

"What?" I asked 

"Nothing. Just heard your bedsprings a bit this morning."

Immediately I blushed hard but turned to focus on cooking to hide my blush "Ohh, Yes I uhh I spilt my water in my bed this morning it was a bit of a panic cleaning it up" 

"Fair enough" He nods "That's what's on your nightie then?" He asked and just the moment he said that I felt the wet patch on my nightie from... what I had done 

"Yes!" I blushed quickly turning so he couldn't see it 

"Alright. You want a hand drying your bed then?"

"No! thank you. It's alright Dr Dawkins." I blushed as I finished with his breakfast so I turned everything off and took the plate with his crumpet over to his bed he happily took it from the plate having a small bite 

"Umm perfect." He smiled before tapping on his bed so I blushed and sat down beside his knee as he ate 

"Your bed's far softer than mine" I smiled 

"I best be careful then, I might come back one night and see you've swapped out beds over" he joked "And I don't want your bed little nursey, those springs are so bad I hear every time you turn over"

"I shall try not to then."

"You don't have to do that" He chuckled as he finished his crumpet 

"If It would be better-" I began

"You'll really do anything I ask won't you?" he laughs 

"Of course" I blushed 

He gave me a funny look for a moment "Let your hair down?"

I blushed hard enough to turn my face red but I did as he asked me to letting my hair from the ponytail 

"Hold my hand?" 

My heart was racing out of my chest that after all these years something! was to happen between us! and I happily took his hand in mine, he gave it a soft squeeze and brought it to his lips to give my hand a gentlemanly kiss before setting my hand on the bed I was almost fainting from even that tiny amount of attention "Take your dress off?" 

"I- I uhhh" I stuttered but inside my mind 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! YES! YES! YES!' I was nervous but I didn't want to waste time moving my hands to the straps of my nightie and tugging them down, I pushed them down to my elbows about to expose my chest when he stopped me 

"Whoa! I was kidding" He laughs sitting up to stop me 

"Ohh" I gulped now utterly red with embarrassment at the fact I was literally two seconds from flashing him! 

"You really will do anything I ask," he chuckled as he softly fixed the straps on my nightie back into place "You're such a sweet little thing" he cooed giving my cheek a kiss "Go on don't let me keep you"

"Alright if you're sure, I'll see you later."

"I'll see you later my little nursey" He smiled laying back in his bed, I smiled my mind screaming at me utterly desperate to kiss him but I forced it away getting up and going back to my own room blushing so hard I had to jump on my bed and squeal into my pillow. 

I was puzzled, I had... finished my work for the day. Often I'd be working long into the night to get my work finished as I often would be rushing off on projects Dr Dawkins would send me off on but, I hadn't seen him all day, and that ached my heart badly. So I ran up to the main part of the hospital and immediately I saw him on his rounds in the ward. 

"Ohh Good Afternoon Doctor Dawkins," I smiled playing with my fingers 

"Ahh Hello Nursey" he smiled as he did some bandage work "Everything alright?"

"I was, just curious. I haven't heard from you today. Didn't you have any jobs for me?" 

"I know. Sorry been absolutely wall to wall today," he explained 

"That's alright, I just wanted to make sure everything was alright." 

"You're sweet." He smiled taking my hand and kissing my knuckles "Everything's fine. go on little Nursey" 

"Yes doctor," I smiled squeezing his hand in the moment before it slipped from mine, I went to go trying badly to hide my blush when I perked up 

"Doctor Dawkins!" A female voice spoke up, and I knew it wasn't Hetti or one of the other nurses I turned quickly and saw that girl. I had seen her a few times in the hospital but I didn't know much about her, but immediately I became like a territorial cat. 

"Oh it's you." he said "To what honour do you bestow us with your visit today then?" 

"The conditions are utterly deplorable! Every single thing in this hospital is disgusting I insist it be cleaned."

"You insist you do?"

"I do. You Laundry girl." She snapped at me "Have every last sheet scrubbed and washed properly immediately!" she demanded 

I was a little shocked not used to having my orders barked at me much less by whomever she was. 

"Give the sheets another wash before you head to bed y/n," He told me, and for a moment I was teary that he took her side so quickly 

"Yes, doctor." I nodded heading back down to the laundry to start again. 

I scampered through the hospital as usual now with even more work than this, woman. was insisting that she had been here every day so far and each day made my heart hurt a little more as she was now spending time alone with Dr Dawkins more than once I had gone into a room and found them alone talking together and it broke my heart each time I did. He had barely called for me at all spending all his time with Belle. I hadn't seen him anywhere around the hospital looking rather concerned as to where he had gone but I stopped short as I heard her voice coming from the morgue, I stopped and lingered at the top of the stairs listening I could hear her talking about... something not sure I couldn't make it out and my body froze as I could hear him. Two talking I tried desperately to listen but I couldn't make out their words I couldn't allow my mind to wander so I headed down the stairs and arrived at the morgue and instantly I felt like bursting into tears. 

He and Belle stood over a body, the room empty other than the two and the body, a scalpel in her hand, his own on her wrist guiding her to make the incision in the skin. They saw me arrive but didn't put a space between them, 

"Yes?" she glared 

"Ohh I uhh I was just looking for you Dr Dawkins," I said sheepishly 

"Oh, I don't have any jobs for you. You can go." He said 

"I- I see. Well you know where I am if you need me" I did my best to force a smile 

"I will do," he said before the two returned to their conversation "Ahh perfect just like that. Very good Milady."

Tears flooded my eyes to hear him call her that, and Immediately without a word, I knew I had been replaced. I wasn't his nursey anymore but she was his Lady, my heart utterly shattered so much my knees went weak and my breath staggered. 

"You alright?" He asked noticing I was still here

"Yes. Sorry Doctor." I answered unable to hold back my tears as I quickly turned and ran up the stairs, I bolted through the hospital reaching the store room shutting the door leaning my back against it. 

Tears flooded down my face, my breathing staggered and desperate between silent wails of pain, unable to control my emotions as my body sunk to the floor. 

After a while I managed to stop crying I think I was so dehydrated I couldn't make any more tears, literally cried out. I left the hospital and went to the cat and bagpipes throwing away all of my money on enough drink to drown my sorrows but nothing seemed to work. So Once I was out of money I staggered back so drunk my inhibitions were utterly void, my shyness gone, and I was ripe for the wicked as anyone who wanted to, rob, murder, or take any advantage of me would find me utterly drunk off my ass unable to even walk straight. I found my way to the hospital eventually and went up to my door but I was unable to stop looking at the door next to my own tears flooding down my face In my drunken state I forced it open slamming it shut behind me to see Jack stood just getting undressed for bed his shirt in hand, his wardrobe open having stopped short given I just burst through his door. 

"Uhh Hi y/n."

"You- You.... Imbolisle!" I slurred 

"What have I done?" He asked very confused about what was happening 

"You know what you did you absolute fudgewomble!"

"Fudge womble?" He laughed 

"You! You... CUNT!"

"Are you drunk?"

 "Don't change the subject!" 

"Y/n what on earth is the matter you've been strange all week," he said taking my hand and trying to bring me closer but I pulled my hand out of his 

"No! I'm not falling for it! No! I'm not doing this anymore! You! You utter monster! you carved open my heart! and left me to bleed! You keep me hanging on your little hand kisses and tiny touches for years! and no matter what I do, how hard I try you give me just enough to keep me hanging, enough to keep me your hopelessly devoted little slave girl!! and then here comes little miss fancy skirt and I'm as worthless as the shit on your shoes!"

"WHoa- whoa- okay." He said trying to calm me down "What's this about?"

"You know what it's about you cruel man!" I cried 

"Y/n Please I swear I don't know what you're talking about, please just sit down and calm down a little" He said gently guiding me to sit on his bed "Now just answer my questions okay, without insulting me if you can" He said holding my hands as he sat in the chair across from the bed "Are you drunk?"

"Yes."

"Why did you get drunk?"

"I thought it would make me stop crying," I said tears slipping down

"Why are you crying?" he asked caressing my cheek and wiping away my tear 

"Because I'm upset!"

"Alright, your upset." He nods "Please, tell me, Hey my little nursey. I can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong."

In my drunken state, I said everything I had ever wanted to say to him tears flooding down my cheeks "I loved you."

"You what?" He asked 

"I loved you. Fully. I loved you from the moment I saw you jack, my every waking moment I think of you, you are the very last thought in my mind before I go to sleep and the first when I wake up in the morning, I have built my life around you, what time you wake up, how you like your breakfast, how fast you walk, I have spent my life pining after you, worshiping you, doing everything you have ever asked of me all in the hope that one day you may give me a glance, for even that is enough to spoil me beyond measure, I spend three hours every night catching up on work because I know I can't ever say no to you, my dreams are full of you, my pillow is named for you, and I have spent the last few years of my life with you, so utterly in love that I could never stop even if you asked it of me, I live for the moments we are alone, for the seconds of time that your hand is in mine, and my heart dwells on your kisses for hours, I even find myself kissing where you have just for a hope of a taste of you, your name is carved on my heart jack, I am and always have been hopelessly devoted to you in every possible way, and if you felt even half of what I do for you, you would not be so cruel as to hold her so close to you, to call her lovelingly when I am there. Please. I beg of you. Do not let me see it, for it rips my heart in two. and if you cared for me you would give me mercy and take me from this world rather than expect me to live in it without you." I explained through my tears "I will not stand in the way of your joy, but I cannot face seeing her where I have always desired to be" 

My words had frozen him but I saw tears well up in his eyes, he held my face and gently kissed me.

I wanted to be happy but I knew this was only meery pity. 

He pulled back his nose against my own "I have desired you to be in my arms since the first night I saw you, I have made myself utterly dependent on you, in every way, for in my heart I know I cannot fashion a life without you in it, you are everything to me, without you I am nothing but a shell of a man, you are the grace that keeps me grounded, the softness that reminds me of the sweetness of the world, you are the ray of sunshine first to peak though the storm of my life, without you, I am lost to the dark. you take care of me, you keep me right, and you make this life worth living, You are so needed that I can't go a single day without seeing you for if I do my heart feels weak and heavy. I adore you, I can't face this world without you by my side, you are... utterly incomparable to all else I have ever known."

"All but her."

"No. Please believe me." he begged "She could never fill the hole you would leave in my heart." he whispered, "I love you, hopelessly" 

"Why have you never told me?"

"I couldn't believe that a sweet thing like you, could love a monster like me."

"you're not a monster Jack."

"I am. I have treated you awfully. I swear to you she means nothing to me, I have made you long for the next life. I have broken your heart. and like choosing to step on the first fresh flower of spring, it is unforgivable." 

"But I saw you together." 

"I was teaching her. I had to show her but even still I got too close. And for that I am sorry."

"I heard you call her Milady,"

"she's the goveners daughter I have to" He giggled "It was in jest. not in love." 

"Well now I'm foolish for drinking away and coming here and-"

"I am so thankful you came here tonight." He whispered "Will you ever forgive me? for what I did."

"You're already forgiven" I smiled 

"Stay with me tonight."

"I-I can't"

"Please. I can't bear for you to go."

"I will stay Jack." I nodded unable to control my smile "For how long?"

"For forever." He whispered against my lips 

"for forever" I smiled kissing him with all the passion, all the love, all the utter hopeless devotion I had had for him since the first day I met him and he did the same not letting anything be held back the taste of salt in our kisses from our tears, "I love you jack, Hopelessly"

"I love you y/n hopelessly" He smiled "Come on we need to get some sleep, god knows the hangover you'll have tomorrow morning."

"Ohh noo" I whined

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you" He reassured kissing my head "I'll fetch your nightie" he smiled heading out and soon enough returning with my nightie from my bedroom, I smiled taking it and going to the corner to change but as I removed my dress I felt his arms around me and kisses on my shoulder 

"You shouldn't look." I said 

"I can't help it- you are even more beautiful than I had dreamed you were," he whispered 

"You had dreamed of me? without my dress?"

"Many times." He smiled wickedly "Did you dream of me? without my clothes?"

"I had."

"Come on nursey. Bedtime." He cooed going to his bed 

I finished getting changed and turned to see him in bed with a space for me I blushed but rushed over about to climb in but he stopped me 

"Water. or you will have a bad hangover."

"You know from experience?"

"I do. go on." He said 

I did as he asked drinking a nice glass of water and slowly I climbed in with him laying down with a giggle 

"What?"

"I'm used to cuddling my pillow."

"Me too. funny to think we laid cuddling our pillows with just a wall between us" he chuckled wrapping his arms around me to pull me closer so our noses were an inch from each other I giggled a little and set my hands on his chest

"We were rather foolish, spending our nights dreaming of each other"

"We were. But I don't need to dream of you in my arms any longer"

"me either." I smiled giving him a soft kiss before we both drifted away, I didn't dream I didn't need to, just the feeling of being in his arms was more of a dream than anything I could have imagined.

But I woke up alone, which for a moment shattered me believing it all to be a dream, my head aching "Ughhhh ow ow ow" I whined as I turned over 

"I know I'm coming-" His voice spoke up, I slowly opened my eyes and saw Jack standing cooking up some eggs and bacon half dressed no shirt but his pants with his suspenders left hanging 

"Ohh... Morning-" 

"Good morning." He smiled "You have a hangover?"

"Ummm humm" I nodded

"How bad?"

"Did you remove my brain last night?"

"No."

"Then I think it's bad."

"You were absolutely bloody plastered last night" 

"I was sad."

"I know, Am I to expect that often then?"

"No."

"Good," he smiled "Here we are my little nursey, best thing for a hangover" he smiled sitting the plate on the table by the bed and kissing my temple 

"I should get going..."

"Why?" he asks sitting on the bed with me 

"I figured you'd want me gone" I said sitting up even if it made my head feel like it was bleeding 

He smiled and gave my lips a sweet kiss "I thought you were staying here for forever?" 

“I take it there are gaps in the memory of last night?”

“I'm not completely sure where reality ends and my dreams begin”

“I can't blame you, I was stone-cold sober and I'm having a hard time separating my dreams from reality last night.” he chucked where do you think the line is?”

“I think I came here and insulted you then I dreamt the rest?”

“No, we were awake a while more than that”

“Ohh. So I did actually tell you -”

“You did.”

“And you told me-”

“I did.”

“Oh my-”

“It's hard because it felt so much like a dream” he smiled he stroked my cheek before he moved into a kiss our kiss was passionate and rather excited and I teared up to know all of it was real and that he loved me as much as I do. Our kiss got even more excitable as he began to push forcing me down in the bed but that sudden movement was enough to affect my hangover

“Owwwwww” I whined lying on the pillow

“Oh, right. Sorry” he chuckled “you're not working today, keep yourself here with me and get some rest”

“What about you? You need to work?”

“Sneed can handle it for one day” he smiled “Just till you're feeling better. I can't leave my little nursey all alone”

“Thank you, Jack”

“You're welcome” he smiled “and… you're really cute when you're jealous”

“I am?”

“Utterly adorable” he cooed “Now eat. Drink. And rest,” he says

“I will I promise”

“Good girl” he smiled moving clean against the wall and having his legs over mine I smiled moving so I could see him and he held my hand “I get why I hear your bedsprings all the time. You little one are a wiggler” he laughed “I tried to hold you close all night but you just kept wiggling away from me”

“Sorry”

“It's fine, I'll get used to you” he chuckled “Can I tell you a secret?”

“I'd like that”

“... There is a reason I'm always late, days you come do my breakfast.”

“Oh? Why?”

“I'm always late because I can't resist seeing you in your nightie.”

“Why does that make you late?’ I asked he smirked and simply glanced down to his trousers suggestively “oohhh-”

“Yeah. Especially the other day when you almost took your nightie off for me?”

“I did notice you were very late that day”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I didn't question it.” I giggled at the thought of Jack lying in his bed taking care of himself because of me “Can I tell you a secret?’

“I'd like that”

“I didn't spill my drink that day”

“No?”

“No”

“So why was your nightie wet? And why was your bed squeaking so much?’

“The same reason you were late”

“Ooh- really?”

“Humm” I nodded

“So that morning before I knocked I sat listening to you?”

“Yes”

“Fuck-” he gasped “I thought I heard my name. Did you hear yours?”

“No, I was quick getting dressed’

“Shame. Maybe next time as well be in my bed together we can just, take care of each other” he smirked “Would you like that my little nursey?”

“I would very much”

“Good, you must move around a lot then because seriously your bed was boarder line constantly making noise”

“I was- I can't -”

“What no tell me.”

“I was riding my pillow”

“You what?’

‘you heard “

“Riding your pillow? As in pillow on the bed, you are on top?” He asked and I nodded “Imagining it was me?”

“Yes” I blushed hiding under the covers a little

“That's adorable” he smirked ‘and a coincidence”

“How?”

“After you left. I laid on my back imagining you riding me. Maybe our dreams are synchronizing” he smiled leaning down to give my lips a sweet kiss moving to look over me as we kissed till he pulled back a bit

“How did you do it?’

“Do what?’

“I was riding my pillow” I giggled innocently

“Oh, just my hand.” He shrugged “I always use my hand I don't have any things to ride on or use like that” he smirked moving a little so his knees were on either side of me “But if you show me, I'll be happy to show you too” he smirked kissing down my jaw and neck

“Uhhh! Jack!” I gasped as I felt his kisses grabbing his hair

“Uhhh- y/n!” He moaned back ripping the covers from my hands “ohh fuck-” he groans looking at me in my nightie

“Owww” I whined as his kisses made he throw back my head which hurt

“Well continue this later. When you feel better” he smiled giving my lips a kiss “That okay?”

“Okay Jack” I smiled giving him a. Kiss “I love you”

“I love you too” 

[sourveggies]

🎨🖌️ i n k 🌈📝 — Headcanons! :

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶꒷ ˚ ꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒥

🧠 Diagnosis/Disorders:

Autism

ADHD

Nihilophobia (Fear of nothingness)

A weak stomache (or whatever a magical skeleton monster has- as he throws up from feeling extreme emotions & sensations)

🌈 Sexuality & Pronouns:

Aro-Ace spec. (Canon)

Pan

He / They (Canon)

✒️ Other! (detailed bc uhh I’m very cool & smart or something-):

Ink’s lack of empathy isn’t due to his soullessness or a disorder that affects his empathy level, but a lack of social understanding, Autism & is used as a subconscious coping mechanism (Some with Autism have a more difficult time understanding others. This does not necessarily mean they have a deficiency in empathy, but may have a few more hoops to leap through to understand it in certain regards)(It’s also important to note his past, immortality, job, probably witnessing numerous deaths daily & the fact he’s an Out!Code as factors on his outlook on AU’s & its inhabitants). (P.S. I just think it’d be extra fascinating!)

Ink has a secret envy for childhood (as he’s never been a child before).

Ink’s vials are like meds! (As he needs them to function, survive & regulate him & his emotions!) (I, however, do NOT view them like a drug addiction! That would imply those on meds who use them to simply function are addicted to drugs)

He has a contradictory, simultaneous inferiority/superiority complex to cope with his isolation (he still feels isolated as he’s still “outside the box” from others, more “knowing” than them, like his past in his original, unfinished AU; even if he doesn’t remember it. It still greatly affects who he is today & why he may not see others as real as himself).

He constantly paces around!

He’s a total theatre kid

He collects things he doesn’t need (plushies, shiny things, art, etc!)

His memory issues are due to his ADHD & the mental break he experienced when he tore his soul apart in the past as some can get brain damage from having a break. Also, I would imagine that tearing one’s soul would probably cause some sort of damage to someone’s being somehow.

He indulges & enjoys child-like activities whether it be for fun or to calm himself down (cartoons, plushies, etc.)

He likes the taste of burnt toast!

He’s a complete dumbass in social situations (States the obvious, can’t read the room most of the time, will crack jokes at the worst times possible, embarrass others on accident, blurt, fall on his face, break things, uncomfortable silences, talks over others, talk about things that are unrelated to the topic being discussed, etc.)

He likes clowns & mimes & doesn’t understand why anyone would be afraid of them

He has a secret “Turning Red” - like sketchbook & would die of embarrassment if anyone found or read it (Reference to the movie when Mei was under the bed)(LMFAO-)

Ink belongs to @comyet

🌈🎨🎭🗯️🖌️

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶꒷ ˚ ꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒥

[amethystfairy1]

Hi Amethyst! It's been a hot minute since I sent an ask in, but I have been reading both fics every day (still obsessed lmao) (also I name changed btw, used to be ElenaLoo)

Anyways, I had written a whole ask waxing eloquent on all the wonderful things going on in ttsbc, but I accidentally shut off my computer partway through and frankly I can't be bothered to write it all out again lmao. Just. It's beautiful (wow isnt that so meaningful and deep? im sure you're feeling very complimented rn)

The REAL thing I wanted to talk about was Traveling thieves (which is by far my favorite fanfic of ALL TIME), and all the amazingness in ttsbc made me forget it even existed for the past few weeks. But the other day I was just like "oh yeah. Traveling thieves." and then i reread the whole thing. whoopsies.

Ummm anywyas there's so many thoughts in my head about all the little guys, but recently I've been on an Imp and Skizz obsession (just scroll on my page for .2 seconds and you'll see) and YOU. You left them on a CLIFFHANGER. >:((( (not actually mad btw). I just. so excited for them. They're out alone in the woods right now and Skizz is going to have the perfect opportunity to kill Impulse and get away and I just am falling apart thinking about them. (I drew them to cope lol, posted on my blog but also later here so that I can talk about it more). I can see this playing out a few ways. Obviously Skizz isn't actually going to kill Impulse, so he's either going to 1) make up some excuse as to why he can't do it right then, but still plans to do it eventually, or 2) he does it. but he doesn't. Skizz attacks Impulse when he's not expecting it, there's a scuffle, and Skizz comes out on top---BUT THEN HE CAN"T FINISH IT!!! and it's a whole thing where even tho skizz tried to kill him, imp is still so understanding and skizz cries and impulse just freaking gives him a hug and

sigh

Whatever you do will be beautiful, I'm sure. I think you mentioned you're switching to tt after this fic, so crossing my fingers it's imp and skizz. (Though, would also be very happy with Martyn and Ren :P) (or anything really i just love tt)

Anyways, I had the art on my blog but I'm also putting it here so i can say things about it to you

Mostly I'm just very proud of their expressions, with Impulse being all concerned glancing over at Skizz, meanwhile Skizz is completely deadpan staring forwards, also looking very tired bc he needs a break from this universe. Also I switched up my Impulse design a lil bit from last time (if u even remember that lol it was months ago now). you would think, just looking at them, that Impulse took way longer to design, but nope, I was messing around with Skizz for at least double the time, trying to figure out how to have him facing forward whilst still showing some of the scars on his back. I gave up eventually xD (all that means is that im gonna have to draw him again later, from different angles)

actually that made me remember a question I had: are you planning to ship Imp and Skizz? Ik you said Zed and Tango are going to be a thing far in the future, but... skizzpulse? plzzzz plz pretty please haha im not obsessed

aaaaaand that reminds me of another question, is skizz going to be in ttsbc? (pretty please also same question as tt, if he was in ttsbc, are him and impulse together? Im addicted to them all i care about these days is some good imp and skizz shipfics, and you're such a fantastic writer, both with plot and the vibes of the words themselves. u could write such good imp and skizz. just imagine the possibilites! (am i selling it?))

aaaaaanyways. im gonna go reread the old tt skizz fics because theyre delicious and painful, like eating knives. u have a good day :))

HIIIIIII

I ADORE THIS ART SO MUCH! I gave you all my rambles on the reblog but it's SOOOOO COOL!

I'm sad the waxing eloquent about TTSBC is gone 😭 but that's ok!

I'm so glad you're enjoying TT and all the drama going on in there! Imp and Skizz are definitely having a time and a half with all of this nonsense going on...I love all your theories! I won't confirm or deny anything of course, but I'm so happy you're excited for them!

I will not be shipping Imp and Skizz, sorry! I just personally don't ship them, so they're gonna remain platonic...I mean, in TT who knows what the hell they're doing to be fair 😆 but yeah, Zedango is going to be a thing in the distant future, but no Skizzpulse! Sorry!

Skizz is not in TTSBC at the moment, that doesn't mean he never will be! Just haven't found a spot for him yet...and no, he also would not be with Impulse, I'm so sorry I just don't ship them personally! I think it's a very cute ship tho!

Enjoy rereading the TT Skizz fics!!! Thank you again for the gorgeous art!!!! I love it!!! 💖

[riverofjazzsims]

Azul Amor for @aniraklova Yasmines Desire BC

Azul Amor 34 Straight Traits: Art Lover, Materialistic, Self Absorbed and Hot headed, Ambitious

Azul "Oz" Amor is the 2nd oldest son of (redacted) rumored to be the head member of the Lovers Boy Cartel (LBC)They are known to specialize in creating aphrodisiac scents that are all the craze during Love day. Of course that's the business that can be discussed in polite company. Its the underbelly of the franchise, that in the streets of places like San My, Copper Dale and Del Sol valley that goes by Lush. Lush is HIGHLY addictive and has so many DAZED and with insatiable wicked Whim. Lush is what took the life of Oz mom when he was just 15, he and his father haven't spoken in years and its the seedy side of his families world that pushed him so far off the path that he and his siblings were originally groomed for.

Oz is a detective in the narcotics division in Del Sol valley and spends 80+ hrs a week tracking and taking down business just like his own family. Typically Oz shy's away from long term relationships, first because of his background and family, Also because he really is most days married to his job and the thought of a relationship and the danger that may bring to the woman, well lets just say flirtations and one night stands are about all he has been willing to entertain. That was until recently when he reconnected with one of his siblings and they were beautifully in love and reminded him so much of what his parents had before life went dark, Oz cant stop thinking now about what a life with a partner that could match him, be a compliment to each other and spend each day learning a new way to love themselves regardless of the past, would be like. Hearing that there was a BC being held in Del Sol Valley he had to look into and the sight of the contest looking for love. Buffs were shooting off all over the place. He cant remember the last time the mere image of a woman called to him to be both a predator and protector and he cant turn away until he know what may come of it.

PRIVATE DOWNLOAD IF CHOSEN

[placeinthisworld]

ttpdta review part one 🤠

let me preface this by stating that i am a swiftie first and person second in this situation. i have grown up with taylor and feel as if shes my big sister- yes i can make fun of her but if i see anyone else do it i will get fiercely protective. i do understand her music is not only art but also her form of therapy. that being said, throughout these nonsense notes i am constantly mentioning that taylor should go to therapy. i am aware of what she has said about therapy (and why she doesn’t go) but i would beg to differ with her…especially after this album release lol.

taylor is an extraordinary storyteller and song writer. i believe this album is full of evidence of that, but it also has some faults that prevent from being as good as i felt like it could have been. overall the album feels rushed.

i also feel like it’s important to recognize the elephant in the room. i know we probably all expected this to be a joe breakup album, so the fact that it turned out to be a “fuck you matty healy” album shook us all a little bit. i know matty had a controversial history, im not gonna sit here and defend him. i don’t know much about him other than what is forced against my will. i do however know that he struggles with mental health issues/ substance abuse/ addiction. i’m not gonna comment much about his personal issues, i don’t feel like that’s right and taylor’s constant references to drugs throughout ttpd definitely rubs me the wrong way. i should also mention i grew up with an active addict and do view things from that perspective, so i feel slightly triggered by the topic and my feelings about that may just be personal but i do mention that in my notes when it’s relevant.

lastly, i am not a music production girlie idk shit lol. i only know i am a aaron dessner stan so any song with his name im already biased towards and i am aware, if u don’t like that idk what to tell u lol. i just know what i feel like is “good” or “bad” but music is subjective🫶🏻

1. Fortnight:

Hate the functional alcoholic part. Like the beat, the chorus is catchy. One thing i love about a taylor swift song is that theres always a story and its always visual. I like the metaphor of the “good neighbors” of like having this teasing/ longing feeling for someone that you could have had a life with. “Your wife waters flowers/ i want to kill her + my husbands cheating/ i want to kill him” feeling like you were robbed of her life, feeling “all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february” reminiscing about the short period of time where you were together and convinced it would last forever (only for it to end before it even started). I do not listen to much post malone but i enjoyed his verse!! So many florida references we get it everything bad happens in florida.

i have not seen the video yet oooopsies

2. Ttpd:

i thought this was the opening of Hey Stephen (the remix) or something at first. gotta say i absolutely love the way she sings “you left your typewriter at my apartment/ straight from the tortured poets department” i enjoyed the vibe of this song, and lyrics up until the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate (OKAY SOOOOOOO ME CODED NGL I LAUGHED at this point i could let this lyric slide- bit then she had to mention the charlie puth and golden retriever thing and ngl it almost ruins the song entirely for me. Tbh when i first listened to the leak i thought this was a fake AI song and that i was sending around a fake leak bc these lyrics started to get a little weird to me. ‘Sometimes i wonder if youre gonna screw this up with me/ but you told lucy you’d kill yourself if i ever leave” …………girl i am begging you to see a therapist (side note did anyone else have a friend in hs whos bf would say that shit a lot?? I remember straight up fighting with a friend who refused to break up w her bf bc he would threaten to end his own life is she did and he was like 16? If an adult is saying that same shit i would be Very concerned not gossiping about it???) “i chose this cyclone with you” my first reaction was: ride the cyclone the musical? Overall i liked the first half but you lost me at charlie puth (hes the one with eyebrow right? I think i get him and miles teller mixed up) (i dont know who either of these men are)

3. My boy only breaks his favorite things:

Okay tbh i thought this was gonna be one of my least favorites, but the total opposite happened. I think this is one of my top 5 favorites on this album. I do think that there is a difference between a poem and a song and that they are not always interchangeable. I feel like if this was edited into a poem it would be KILLER. The visuals, the the story, the vocabulary, the sadness in it. “Im queen of sandcastles he destroys/ There was danger in the heat of my touch/ once i fix me/ hes gonna miss me/ i felt more when we played pretend then with all the kens / cause he took me out of my box” i feel like ever since folklore, taylors been trying to push these big fancy words and sometimes it feels awkward and forced, but this is one of the rare songs that doesn't suffer from that.

4. Down bad:

meh. Chorus is catchy. I dont love the narrative “fuck it if i cant have him/ i might just it would make no difference” but i also have never once experienced that over a person before lmao……….taylor go to therapy. Nothing really stands out about this to me otherwise. No offense, but it sounds like a generic jack antonoff song lol. Like maybe if another artist released this, i would enjoy it more but idk i wouldnt expect it from taylor i guess. Just kinda feels boring to me sorry if u enjoy it <3

5. So long, london:

oh man were done with british men now for real for real. “ two graves one gun. I'll find someone” its over for joe and matty (but thats fine if all she has to say about joe is what i think she said on this album i am happy i think We Get It…) Aaron dessner i love u (remember when he reposted me on his ig ahh).”i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift/ pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away” + “I stopped trying to make him laugh/ stopped trying to drill the safe/ i didnt opt in to be our odd man out/ im pissed off you let me give you all of that youth for free” oof i FELT that one a LITTLE too hard. I think this is both a song about matty and joe- i think she had a life and an attachment to london just in general through both relationships, “im just mad as hell because i loved this place” and so reflecting back on how both are over and how all those plans with either are done. “You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days” OKAY kinda hate this phrase bc it feels like shes placing blame on whomever’s mental health/ depression, like as if they made the conscious decision to sacrifice the relationship solely. This very much feels like “how much sadness did you think i could take before i got bored???” overall top favorite songs bc it doesnt have too many cringey or odd lyrics and the production is 10/10 thank u aaron dessner ilysm king

6. But daddy i love him:

tbh when i got the leak this was the first song i listened to bc i thought it was gonna be the worst one and i wanted to get it over with (i was RIGHT until she dropped that second half……..) and i DIDNT have the lyrics obviously so i couldnt for the life of me figure out if she really said “im having his baby…..NO IM NOT!” until the VERY end of the song and bro…….the cringe. The cringe. The cringe. This is also when i started to question if this was real or if i was passing out a fake leak, lol. I dont understand how she could be saying this shit about matty. And like we all know it lol. “Sometimes growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all” …….but like does it??? I feel like thats kinda an oxymoron or something like i understand what shes trying to say and MOST of the time her metaphors and comparisons make sense to me but like this one doesnt. Growing up precocious means to grow up more advanced in maturity, how would that also mean not growing up at all? Is it just me getting stoned and overthinking things? “Ill tell you something about my good name/ its mine alone to disgrace” true that bestie ur doin a great job by being so politically quiet over the past couple of yeats after making a whole asss documentary about wanting to be on the right side of history. But I digress i am just one of those bitches performing soliloquies you'll never see. Overall this song is very weird and cringey imo and i wish it stayed in whatever vault it was sitting in lol.

7.Fresh out of the slammer: “In the shade of how he was feeling” -_- dont like this narrative already. I could honestly go on a rant about why i dont like this song but im going to spare for the sake of my sanity in this review of thirty one fucking songs but its along these lines “to the one who says im the girl of his american dreams” oh brother. otherwise i dont care for many of the lyrics, the chorus/ melody/vibe is mid i guess. It sounds like another jack song (i was right)

8. Florida!!!: “all my friends smell like weed or little babies” okay i know what she was trying to say but im SORRY you cant tell me she couldnt think of ANY other way to say her friends are either parents partiers lmao. Deserves jail for that but luckily the vibe and the chorus of the song are really catchy and florence’s voice is beautiful in it. “Well me and my ghost we had a hell of a time/ yes im haunted but im feeling just fine” CHILLS i loved it. I didnt think i would like this song but (maybe as much as i like no body, no crime which is meh) but no i lowkey love this song and think its really fun. Once again the drug references start to get heavy here in the album and like i mentioned i do get slightly triggered by drug mentions.

9. Guilty as sin?:

okay taylor we get it you masterbate. Another strong jack song and it’s pretty similar to others on the album so nothing besides the sexual lyrics stand out.

10. Whos afraid of little old me?:

“if you wanted me dead you should have just said/ nothing makes me feel more alive” ooooooooooh i love that. I feel like a live or an acoustic version of this song would give me CHILLS. “Is it a wonder i broke / lets hear one more joke/ then we can all laugh until i cry” honestly so relatable, “i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean” oh :( that hurt bc it just reminds me of the vibe shift during midnights era/ eras tour where it *feels* like she started to pull back from being taylor swift and started to become Taylor Swift (™) and the way her fans/ media has treated her made her mean or cold or something and that just makes me feel sad. “Whos afraid of little old me? You caged me and then you called me crazy! I am what i am cause you trained me! SO. WHOS. AFRAID. OF ME? Again the narcotics line kinda makes me feel icky but thats bc i have that thing about drugs and just dont LOVE all the references to them. Like i know its not that serious but theres a reason why i dont seek out artists that typically talk or write about that stuff ya know so its weird. Overall i think the production is one of the most unique ones on this part of the album.

11. I can fix him (no really i can):

i hate it all around i think. I hate the narrative of “i can fix him!! I can handle a dangerous man!!! No really i can!!!” there is a reason why this song is barely 3 mins long lol it should have been cut but i think taylor wanted to Be Edgy. i dont care for the productions or the lyrics, its very forgetful imo.

12. Loml:

okay i really thought this was gonna be a joe song (rip) so i was thinking it was gonna be really deep and sad and like it IS but with the context of it being the pt 2 fling with matty it doesnt seem like it now. Anyone who thinks this is not about matty please look at the lyrics and be so serious “whos gonna stop us from waltzing back into reklndled flames/ if we know the steps anyway” I think matty just said too much shit to taylor during their fling and taylor WAS truly convinced this her invisible string and he promised her a lot that he couldnt upkeep and ghosted her and she took it SUPER hard, i mean two breakups in one year is a lot (me, whos never been through a single breakup once). I just dont understand how she feels like matty is the greatest loss of her life. One of my favorite tracks on the album, “our field of dreams engulfed in fire/ your arsons match your somber eyes” a LOT of these lyrics are actually really good imo. I think im the only one that didnt find the “mr. steal your girl and make her cry” line idk i thought it was actually kinda neat, the phrasing of it, kinda contradicts the title “love of my life” because he was never that serious or respectful of her and only use her from the beginning. This is another song that i think would make KILLER poem over song. Overall i think the piano is haunting and a live version of this will make me die, thank u again aaron dessner 10/10

13. I can do it with a broken heart:

ngl i thought this was the opening to mastermind for a hot second- also gave me a scare on whether or not this was a fake leak lol. Catchy ass chorus but very YOYOK. “Breaking down i hit the floor/ All the pieces of me shattered/ as the crowd was shouting “more!” ooffffffff seeeeee that is exactly WHAT i was afraid she was feeling durning the eras tour after the joe breakup/ matty situation and all these stupid twitter and tik tok swiffers were out here overanalyzing EVERYTHING and demanding rep tv like every other day. “Im so depressed i act like its my birthday” …….okay taylor. Like a lot of people have said, i think she interchanges “depressed” for “sad” a lot and the two are not the same. I think taylor wrote this song (but specifically the “i cry a lot time but i am so productive” and was like “yup this part is gonna go viral on tik tok,” initially i wrote “feels like taylor saw that depression barbie commercial in barbie 2023 and wrote a song based on that” lol which i still agree with. Overall the production of this screams midnights reject lol, very jack antonoff. Over time this song has grown on me a lot. Originally i didnt care for it but now its kind of a bop but i think its bc its so similar to YOYOK. “Try and come for my job” @taylorswift deadass you couldn’t think of anything else to say instead. cmon. I was mostly on board until that very last part, just seemed very cheesy lol like its not a big deal but i thought it delivered well without it.

14. The smallest man who ever lived:

(aaron thank u for saving me and this entire album) “they just ghosted you/ now you know what it feels like” OUCH. “i dont even want you back i just want you to know/ if rusting my sparkling was the goal/ and i dont miss what we had but can someone give/ a message to the smallest man who ever lived” oh this was somber af. I am obsessed with the phrasing of the chorus. I also LOVE taylors deeper voice its def giving me the same feelings MTR gave me from folklore, that made me CRY and this was very similar. This is another classic taylor song that i could EASILY write like a ten page essay about if someone put a gun to my head. I know that its about a *romantic* relationship, but it feels general enough to be able to relate to anyone who is close to someone with an addiction or struggles with substances. A lot of addicts dont understand the impact of their addiction or their behaviors that they display while struggling. To meeeeee, this feels very much like “you were self centered and betrayed my trust, was any of this true? Real? Am i paranoid or is this that deep?” “it wasnt sexy once it wasnt forbidden” has me thinking lots of things. I think that describes taylors “type”if that makes sense? Like i said i would need to literally break this song down line by line like its ridiculous i have too many thoughts about this song i have listened to it on repeat six times by the time im typing this. “In public showed me off/ then sank in stoned oblivion” FUCK. “you treat her like an also-ran” honestly i have never heard of that phrase/word thank u dr. swift. “Were you sent by someone who wanted me DEAD/ did you sleep with a GUN underneath OUR BED/ were you writing a BOOK?/ were you a sleeper cell SPY? IN 5O YEARS WILL THIS BE ALL DECLASSIFIED?/ AND YOU’LL CONFESS WHY YOU DID IT!/ AND ILL SAY GOOD RIDDANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” tears were formed besties. Also love the gracie abrams reference. “And you deserve prison but you wont get time” i feel like is very metaphorical like you DESERVE to be punished for what you did to me but you won’t admit to the guilt, you wont admit your wrongdoings, you wont admit that i would have done anything for you and you have no problem replacing me. “You said normal girls were boring/ but you were gone by the morning” first of all red flag girlie, nonetheless heartbreaking. “And in plain sight you hid/ but you are what you did” i say this with all the love in my heart, someone take taylor swift to a really good really private therapist. I could say more but i think i need to move on because i am now on my eighth cyle of listening to this song.

15. The alchemy:

already kinda hate it. “What if i told you im back/ the hospital was a drag/ worst sleep i ever had” do you think taylor swift has ever been admitted to a real hospital in this context. Feels very out of place and like i said earlier i dont love the psych ward visuals/ references she keeps inserting in this album. “He jokes its heroin but this time with an e” thanks! I fucking hate that line so much. Feels very icky, not funny. I get what shes going for but it falls so flat for me. The football references (yall know my opinion on meathead!!!!!!!! I will not engage!!!) are fucking dumb. Production is kinda lame and uninterested. Will only listen to this song if by force and will not repeat it ive head enough lets move on.

i have Lots Of Thoughts. i don’t think anyone cares about what i have to say though so i don’t think i’ll bother posting the rest lol but i did do a lot of work so ill post just a bit to make myself feel better.

[urdadskat]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ About Me ⋆₊˚

Hai!!!, I’m Sock, I use she / they pronouns and I’m currently 16 years old >:3

I’m an artist !!! I usually draw my oc’s and other people’s oc’s (I’m addicted to toyhouse hehe…), I also sometimes draw the occasional fanart but I’m trying to draw fanart more often

Interests ₊˚⊹⋆

I have many interests and things I like and have liked many things so this little list is very much incomplete !!! I’ll try and update it as I remember ALSO I haven’t finished watching / reading / playing some of these too so yeah😭

Delicious in dungeon / dungeon meshi, frieren, TADC, CRK / CROB, HNK / land of the lustrous, reverse 1999, vtubers, vocaloid, genshin impact, wonder egg priority, neon genesis evangelion, demon slayer, toilet bound Hanako-kun / tbhk / jshk, madoka magica, sonic, Pokémon, Sanrio, ddlc, anime, laika’s comet, ena, mlp, fnaf, danganronpa, one punch man and more !!!

I also like horror stuff (mainly analog n phycological horror) and early internet themes , early 2000’s themed art and stuff,, video breakdowns of old internet culture etc and more… as I said ill update this as I remember more

Other ₊˚⊹⋆

I make tons of typos bc I often type fast!!!

I can get bit anxious when talking to new ppl online please be patient with me !

I use lots of emojis

Im learning Japanese

i dont post consistently...

Uhmmm I’ll add more stuff here l8r hehe

Socials ₊˚⊹⋆

Toyhouse

https://toyhou.se/UrDadsKat

Twitter / X

[papirouge]

Yes! I wish more people brought this up! modern day conservative influencers aren’t talented musicians and artists and they are envious of those who are. They have talent agents and all that! Every single one started out normal.

They wanted to be special with mediocre skills but can’t make it. I can understand because my skills aren’t the best but I just keep practicing. They COULD have gone the indie route too, post their music online and keep working at it but I think they are obsessed with money and influence. That’s why grifting for conservatives online is easy cheap money.

....and that's also why there's a significant (Hollywood) celebrity who fell from grace → rightoid grifter pipeline. Have you seen Zachari Levi (Shazam actor) and Amber Rose latest stunt? Funny how conservatives didn't cockblocked them arguing that celebrity support was some silly tactic they left to Democrats. They welcomed them in their podcasts, rally, etc.

I always said conservatives were envious of the chokehold liberals had on the entertainment industry. But the thing is, you can't pretend defending traditional values/conservatism while aiming for a upheaval of the entertainment world. They are called LIBERAL arts for a reason. Conservatism is turned toward the past & self preservation, while arts are about exploring and disturbing the status quo. There will never be a relevant conservative influencial culture. That's why conservatives ALWAYS have to resort to rehash liberal slogan or viral moments.

You are absolutely right about them being too addicted to fame & attention to bow down gracefully and retire from an industry that did them "wrong". For Zachari Levi it's obvious like the nose on the face he's MAD AS HELL that Shazam 2 flopped and thought he was gonna be the next Chris Evans lol so he turned towards the rightoid grift bc after DC fans cancelled him for being an 'anti vaxxer' he knew his 15 minutes were ending and fully leaned towards the rightoid grift to grasp the last straw of relevancy he had. Rightoid are not really demanding: as long as you shit on the government they will hail you as sooo disruptive and non pc 🤩 Amber Rose? Well, it eventually dawned on her that she wasn't Black and she got shunned by the communitah after she assaulted that Black women on some trashy TV shows. She also felt the tide turning and that being a 'slut' wasn't as lucrative as 10 years ago so she's now rebuking her past and endorsing conservative. I wouldn't be surprised she becomes a full on tradwife in the next few years.

Both of them are perfect nutshell of celebrities clinging to the last shred of relevancy left wherever it is bc they felt betrayed by liberals/progressives.

I also think Candace Owens is secretly jealous of female influencer because that's what she wanted to be back when she was an anti racist activist. Same for Brett Cooper. I once sleuthed on their respective pages and analysed their thumbnail/video title, and to the surprise of nobody, most of the time, they were clowning women, and when they featured men, they either were 'neutral' or not as hard as for women (or were LGBT men = easier target)...they definitely know their audience.

Btw I'm genuinely curious about Celestial prophecy of Candace Owens being trans(?)/not what she appears to be LOL that shit would be hilarious. I remember her catfight debate with Blaire White. Those lolcow fighting was hilarious kek

[dragon-fuccer]

Hi!!! If u're reading this u're probably the author of this absolutely amazing fic ✨

And if u're not, go read it;!! It's so good u won't regret it<33

First some fanart jumpscare !!! (I hope u're ok w it bc I haven't asked for permission 😭)

It's just how I imagine Jack to look with a few smaller headcannons based on the fic, and there will be more fic related doodles soon, so prepare for that >;D (ofc as long as u're ok with it!!)

Second, the thing I lured ya here with, aka mine n my bfs ocs, art and description for ya to use in the fic if u want to ^^

TYSM for this offer, both me and my bf feel hella honored and it actually gave us a ton of motivation to actually expand on these two!

Tws : body horror, brief description of violence n death, mentioned suicide and brief description of murder

Smokey belongs to my bf and Something is mine !

Normal text is all written by me and green text was written by him ^^

Art and design by my dearly beloved:

Smokey

Real name : Victor Wilson

Age : around 26 yo

possible victor lore

used to be victor by marble hornets standards known as smokey

a dropout uni student with raging nicotine addiction (smokey did not retain any uni info but vic used to be psych student (projecting much lol))

prolly watched marble hornets with friends for fun and against better judgement decided to give a visit to rosswood park thinking its a film project in the beginning

turns out its not and they spotted the lanky guy

smokey the horror movie enthusiast wants out at that point before shize goes down but its late and they r deep in the forest so comes to conclusion they r all p much dead at this point

peeps want to go hunt for the lanky man cus cool and internet views

my guy is like f that yall r following basic horror lore of everyone dies im not playin like that and straight up says hes not going and hed rather go and sleep in the burned down psych ward

he gets called a wimp but decides if hes gonna die hes not dying an idiot and decides to vidtape everything on his mid tier phone camera

not sure what happens to the rest but they do their meet cute w slendy and prolly with time like half of em ends up in the arko e way or another

smokey manages most of the night fine but like luck would have it still end up meeting the guy

does not go well

wakes up in the burned down hospital not remembering the last unknown time and broken phone beyond repair

decides oho this is bad lets go back to uni and never talk abt it

meets with most friends back at uni but like 2 of em r missing and they just pretend nothing happened, friend group dissolves

after that he starts slowly having memory gaps, waking up in other places

all comes to head when it turns out he missed 5 months of uni after he wakes up back in rosswood really far from home and skinnier than ever and suddenly no more uni student

after that victor surfaces less and less till hes just kinda gone at that point

Smokey first shows up the night victor goes with friends to rosewood

in the beginning surfaces confused unsure who they are and what is their purpose

with time smokey goes through both phone and computer of vics

binges whole marble hornets in one sitting and decides he has a personal vendetta against the operator

since then they work on somehow stoping it (and terribly fails given the lack of information) leading to continuous trips back to rosewood and sleepovers in the rubble of the ex psych ward

figuring out the nicotine addiction takes a bit of time and leads to pretty nasty withdrawal symptoms as well as a very wrecked dorm room (he does find the cigarettes tho and is smart enough to connect the dots (smart cookie, here have a star sticker))

smokey learns asl and isolates themself a lot in the months of operator research

he still maintains two personas to some extends which is one the masked smokey who uses mostly asl and rarely speaks (to some extent also a tactic against being caught by police) and times when he goes without mask on library searches and grocery shoppings

smokey starts a yt channel dedicated to catching the operator and ending it which attracts at best some people commenting on obvious marble hornets ripoff and few cents into his wallet

with passing time they do start finding victims in order to keep themselves alive n appease the the big slinky leading to series of alleged suicides then turned to series of murders

he starts off with two of his ex friends who go back to rosewood and start showing symptoms he learned from mh

When they commit murder they hide in the trunk of the car and basically hotbox the whole thing due to smoking making the victim whoozy and confused, moving on they connect a pipe (like garden hose or whatevs) to the exhaustion pipe and suffocate their victims with the car smoke

the thing that tips off the police is the nicotine in the system of every victim and an account of almost to be one that got stalked by smokey who upon being discovered (also while smoking and which earned him the name) decided to bolt

since then he continues on just about the same, aka researching the operator, finding new victims and surviving untill they meet Something

His hoodie is dark green, the mask is greyish from the grime n dirt, the big cross on it is black so are his pants and hair

Something

Real name : Rae Dyer

Age : 23 before transformation, currently unknown

Something used to be a cryptid fan. They worked at a radio station and had a small night show where they played old rock and often rambled about the latest creature they heard about. While out, looking for a new creature to maybe see, they stumbled upon the Slenderman and became obsessed to document it somehow, quickly spiraling out of control and slowly, bit by bit became a creature themselves.

Something doesn't remember much from it's past life. It used to just wander, guided by the static in it's head towards it's victims, always terrified itself but not knowing why. After Smokey found it, they started wandering together. At first they had serious communication issues - Something only able to speak in tap code and Smokey mainly using ASL - but with time they learned to speak with each other, and now they can understand the other almost without words.

Something doesn't really eat, it survives on fear and between itself and Smokey, it always has more than enough of it. It does steal food for Smokey tho, cigarettes as well, usually leaving them in whatever ruined building he decided to stay in for the night. Something got also addicted to nicotine by just being around Smokey so much, leading to separation anxiety fueled by withdrawal when they're apart.

Something cannot speak, and can only communicate using tap code. When it's particularly worried or scared it does emit a small noise, that sounds like a particularly breathy whine, and more commonly when it tries to speak, quiet spider like ticking can be heard coming from it's mouths.

It usually walks hunched over, used to having to duck under branches, entryways, etc bc of it's height.

Something has pale skin reminiscent of porcelain, and is usually wearing a v neck sweater with a white undershirt and jeans or other pants. It's hair is very thin and scarce, floating around it's head down to it's lower back

Also a tiny doodle bonus of how I imagine these two showing up on Jacks doorstep xjbxbcbcb

We think the most probable case of them showing up would be Smokey getting bonked on a mission (probably by a car or a would be victim) and Something bringing them over to Jacks cabin to get pached up, tho feel free to do something else ya might think fits =w=

Again, thank you so much for the offer, we're both so honored to have the opportunity to show these two off and maybe if you're so inclined getting them a chapter in ur amazing fic<3

If u have any questions you need answered Abt the two don't hesitate to ask them as well! ^^

-Kai n Bean

[devotion-disorder]

HI OMG now that i have ur attention (kinda) w the last ask about dol can i just say that ur blog is one of my favs FR FR!! your artstyle is perfect i wish i was U!!!! smooch smooch smooch chuu chuu chuu x1000000000 chuus i hope you have the best day of ur life everyday!! and that little kylar chibi is so cute :3 in the time that i’ve sent that ask he has since kidnapped me!! <33 i ignored him the entire time though bc why would he do that!! (he’s cute but i can’t let him get out of hand) and i escaped dw :3

okay and note about dol; UR SO RIGHT i love the grind of getting money it’s so rewarding!! i’ve became a little sexy spa girl to entice customers into givang me monay…. ohohoho. but now idk what to do with all of it, what do you spend money on other than baileys weekly payments?? i avoid giving them money HEHE ( but i do pay them once a month though so robin doesn’t get shanked))

love u love u great artist and author and everything!! multitalented starshine!! + + + + + Love

also. what’s Hades… ahaha… ur my game plug

omg anon you are being too nice what the FAWK....im jus your game plug.............asudhaiudhawiudawhiad😭😭😭😭 <- im morphin into this emoji in real time. sentencing you to ten thousand smooches NOW

i also loved to grind for cash in dol LOL but it was mostly just for the millionaire vrelcoin achievement. because theres nothing i love more than meaningless achievements in viddy games😔then once i got it i just spend it on literally anything because money just becomes a non-factor lol

but also thanks for giving me an excuse to talk about Hades. you will regret this. under the cut cause da post is long:

Hades is an indie roguelite game released a couple years ago! and literally I cannot find a single bad thing to say about this game im being serious rn. The storyline? Fucks. The music? Fucks. The art? Fucks. The characters? I need to fuck everyone so bad. The gameplay? I've never been more addicted to dying. and this game is fully voice acted like WHAT?????

In the game you play as Zagreus, son of Hades, and youre trying to escape from your house because you hate your dad and also to find your mom. but theres also tons of other characters with their own sub-plotlines AND there's a dating mechanic. there's honestly so much goddang content and the writing + voice-acting is totally solid!!

i'm not much of a Gamer™ myself and im usually pretty shit (or mediocre at BEST) in action-heavy games, but even i found hades to be super enjoyable :oo it did took some getting used to in the beginning, but after getting the hang of it and because of the game's natural progression it does get significantly easier. I think the game is really well-balanced, and no matter what weapon or boon you use its still really fun.

if i remember correctly back when the trailer dropped it caused quite a stir on twitter/tumblr because it looked so good. And guess what!! they're making HADES 2 BABEY!!! but that comes out in early access next year i think.

so yeah. check it out if you want! or maybe later if you have finals. because I will admit that sometimes.....when i couldve been drawing or doing something productive. i was not. because i was playing hades. so um. sorry guys.