#i COULD be drawing. or writing. but.. i'm not. ? ?????

[paladinsbrainrot]

byler as jackieshauna in my yellowjackets au 🐝 🐅 details under the cut!

their history:

mike and will have been childhood best friends since they were five. they've gone through everything together — the good, the bad, and the ugly. they get each other on a level that no one else does, which is a blessing, but also — sometimes — a curse.

mike's always been very insecure of himself, self-conscious of his looks, talents, skills, and confidence. will's everything that mike wishes he was: good-looking, popular, team captain, kind, out. mike truly cares about will, but he's always held a hidden resentment against him. he's jealous of the fact that will's so outwardly himself, proudly feigning the confidence that mike lacks.

while will would never actually admit this to himself, he's always had a sort of mini-crush on mike. it's easy to fall in love when your best friend takes care of you so well. it's 1996, and while the world's not exactly the kindest, he's happy to find himself out as gay to a supportive and incredibly loving family.

mike starts dating el hopper, the brightest and most popular girl in school, in the spring semester of freshman year. in some ways, he hopes that by dating her, he'll gain some newfound confidence. instead, it brings heaps of self-doubt and pessimism as the two find themselves breaking up and getting back together more times than they can count.

frustrated after one of he and el's many break-ups, mike finds himself in will's car one afternoon after soccer practice. will attempts to cheer mike up by boasting about mike's own achievements and kind-hearted personality, saying how the right girl won't be able to pass him up like that. it's then when mike kisses him, straight out of the blue, and will can't help but reciprocate.

pre-crash:

mike treats will and el as their own separate entities, people who he can't mix on any occasion. he spends most of his days kissing el to at least assume some normalcy, and to prove to his parents that he's the respectable boy they've made him out to be. when he's with el, he convinces himself he and will are nothing but childhood best friends, and that there's nothing going on between them. in his downtime, when practice runs late and el's already reported home for curfew, he kisses will like his life depends on it.

mike's worst fear comes true during senior year when will and el tell him their parents are getting married, meaning the two will become step-siblings. it's then when will decides to call it quits. he can't keep doing this with mike if el's going to be his sister in less than a year. no matter how much they enjoy their late-night make-out sessions, it's not fair to her.

mike agrees, albeit reluctantly. there's something about will that el can't give him. it's an apt hunger, running deep through his veins. mike and will spend the rest of the year as friends, with at least two feet of distance between the two of them. but mike would be lying if he said he didn't think of will whenever he kissed el, imagined his lips instead of hers, his hands in his hair. he's now not only jealous of will's confidence, but the fact that he can be proudly gay without an ounce of shame for it.

when the tigers make it to nationals, they all attend the celebration party. mike offers to drive el and will home, who are both clearly wasted. after mike drives el home for her early curfew, he's suddenly overcome with a hunger he's never felt before. mike is instantly compelled to pull over. despite vowing to never do this again, mike can't help the part of him that's starved of will's presence, that wants a final taste of will before he's forbidden. he explains this in due time to will, who, to mike's surprise, can't resist the urge. they share what they think will be their last kiss the day before nationals in the back of mike wheeler's rover.

post-crash:

when flight 2525 crashes in the middle of the canadian wilderness, mike finds himself in a strange position. on one hand, he's stranded in the middle of nowhere with no parents or peers to judge him, with complete, unabashed freedom. on the other, he's stranded with will and el in the same, sequestered space, and he's not sure he's able to handle the two of them at once. it's only a matter of time before el finds out, and mike can't resist the deepest desires of his heart now that he's got will all to himself....

I could not resist the urge to mash two of my favourite shows together so here's what I have come up with! I am planning to draw most of the other characters and write their backstories and plot in this au as well, so keep your eyes peeled for when I eventually get to that. I convinced myself that I would write a fic for this au but ultimately could not as I am not confident enough in my writing abilities as of yet plus it would be an absolutely insane and lengthy project that I'm not sure I'm up for/would finish. I've decided to commit to drawing everyone instead and writing up small drabbles of how I think they would interact in this world so... there's that! I will obviously not be writing the entire au, but I do have LOTS of ideas for what could happen, so please feel free to send an ask if you have any questions ! :)

keep in mind this is just how I would personally go about the characters if they were put in this universe. mike obviously takes inspiration from shauna, and will obviously takes inspiration from jackie, but don't think that their entire story will be exclusively taken from these characters. will is much more similar to shauna than jackie personality wise, and likewise with mike and jackie, but narratively he and jackie both serve the same functions. do take this with a grain of salt as I also had to mesh their canon personalities with the respective character roles they're taking on so... I hope I did it well!

additionally, I just want to put it on the record that jackie and shauna are extremely complex characters, who are not wholly good or bad. in order for mike and will to reflect jackie and shauna's relationship dynamic, I wanted to incorporate the cheating plot. I know cheating is a very taboo topic in the stranger things fandom because in canon mike and will would never do such a thing, however, in this au, mike and will are not going to the 'saint-like' figures we often see them portrayed as in this fandom. they're not wholly bad, but they have flaws, which make them and jackieshauna super interesting characters. I also just really wanted to explore a kind of toxic relationship with byler because It's just interesting to me okay!!!! Idk!!!! don't send the pitchforks after me.

so yes... if we are comparing will's function in the narrative to jackie's he does have to die unfortunately. but I also have lotttsss of new ideas about how will gets to this point and how mike chooses to deal with it after 👀

[piroulinewafers]

requesting!!

possessive and jealous caleb who cant take the sight of mc in a little bikini. she looks so hood but he can’t let anyone else see her like this so he sucks and plays with her nipples till they’re so sore the only thing she can wear now are caleb’s oversized shirts

(also not sure if you take these requests but could she also be on the smaller chest side, totally okay if you don’t accept body specific requests.)

🫶🫶🫶

𝐚/𝐧: i've been thinking about this request for like a week hehe... admittedly my productivity is waining </3 i usually write pretty generally but i'm fine with body specific requests most of the time! i wrote this generally in line with such.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: caleb x fem! reader 𝐜𝐰: nipple play idk. 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: open.

caleb wasn’t sure who he was mad at more— the sun, the sea or that damn bikini that he should’ve never let leave the store rack. 

she stood by the shoreline, the little blue and white striped two-piece catching the light like it had a grudge against his sanity. the bows on her hips fluttered with the breeze, her shoulders shining with sunscreen that he had just applied, and her top— god help him— was the smallest piece of fabric he’d ever seen called clothing.

and she was tugging at it. adjusting it. wrapping her arms over her chest like she had something to hide.

she spotted him where he sat beneath the umbrella, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying his best not to make it obvious he was glaring holes into the horizon behind her. or maybe through the pack of guys playing volleyball a little too close for comfort and letting their eyes wander.

she trudged back toward him, the sand soft beneath her steps, leaving little prints all the way up to where he sat stiff-backed in the shade. she stood in front of him, pout already in place.

“gege,” she murmured, tugging at the strings at her back and turning halfway. “can you tighten this a little? it feel loose…” 

his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked up at her.

loose? loose ?!

she was already wearing nothing as is basically.

but he didn’t say that. instead, he gave a tight grunt, rising to his feet, brushing the sand off his shorts. his hands were warm, large palms brushing over the delicate curve of her back as he reached for the thin strings. 

“i still think we should’ve gone later when it isn’t as busy,” he muttered, tugging the bow tighter with more force than necessary— though careful not to harm her.

“i wanted to come,” she said simply, softly. “it’s nice out. i thought it’d be fun.”

his jaw clenched as he knotted the string neatly and gave the bow a final tug on the right side. she shivered a little when his knuckles brushed against the bare skin of her spine.

“there,” he said softly, voice low. “snug.” 

she turned back around, adjusting the top with her hands as if she still wasn’t quite satisfied. her fingers toyed with the fabric, and then, of course, came the complaint. 

“it’s still kind of gappy…”

he blinked once. “gappy?”

she gestured vaguely at her chest. “i don’t fill it out that well…” 

caleb just huffed, shaking his head. “that top’s just too small, that’s what.”

“i-its not even that small, it’s gappy—“

he grunted. “it is. too small. way too small. what were you thinking wearin’ this in public?”

her head dipped. “you said beach day….” 

“yeah. i meant towels. sandcastles. maybe a bit t-shirt and one of those dumb sun hats you like.”

she whined softly and covered her face. “you’re being dramatic, gege. it’s a beach, i want to wear a cute bikini.”

“i’m been’ reasonable,” he muttered, already unscrewing the cap to the sunscreen. “now sit still.”

“gege, i already did it— �� she fussed.

“noe,” caleb cut her off, flipping the cap open with one thumb. “not good enough. you missed a few spots.”

“i didn’t— “

“you did,” he said firmly, and that was that.

she huffed again, drawing her knees up a little more after sitting down. he shifted behind her, making her lean forward just a little as he squeezed sunscreen into his palm.

“you act like you’ve never been in the sun before.” she muttered.

“not with you in that little thing,” he simple grumbled in return, rubbing his hands together before spreading gate lotion across her shoulders. 

she jumped slightly at the first touch. “it’s cold!”

“you’ll live,” he responded, but even he had to slow down, hands gliding with almost reverent pressure over her bare skin. her back was soft, and warm from the sun. his thumbs brushed over her shoulders blades, slowly working the sunscreen in with practiced care.

“stop squirming,” he added, palms sliding to her lower back. “you want me to miss somethin’ and let you burn up?”

“i said i already did my back,” she grumbled in response, voice muffled as she tried not to melt under his touch. “you’re so overbearing.”

“and yet here you are,” he replied , earning close enough that his breath tickled the shell of her ear. “lettin’ me do it anyways.”

she made a tiny noise but didn’t argue.

his hands roamed slow, methodical, smoothing every inch with ridiculous focus. it should’ve been quick— routine. but his brain was short-circuiting. she was warm and practically half-naked before him, dressed like a little dream and sounding like temptation ever time she sighed under his hands.

he swallowed hard and pulled away with effort. “alright. turn.”

she blinked up at him. “what? no, caleb— my front is fine, i did that part too—“

“did you get under the straps?” he pointed to the white little straps, gently flicking the bow at her shoulders as a part of the design. “or your collarbones? your nose? you always forget your nose.”

she gave him a look, but sighed and turned toward him, arms still loosely crossed over her chest. 

caleb raised a brow. “pips.”

she let them drop with a muttered, “you’re impossible.”

caleb tried to keep his face neutral, but it was hard when she sat there in front of him, shy and squirmy and absolutely not helping his ability to function. he warmed a little sunscreen in his hands agin, then started at her shoulders, thumbs brushing over the fragile bones beneath her skin.

“you’re tremblin’,” he lightly teased, voice lower now. “what’re you so nervous for?”

“you’re staring,” she mumbled.

“I have to look,” he said. “you want me to do it right, don’t you?”

she looked away, pouting and he softened a little. then he slide his fingers up, gently smoothing lotion down her collarbone, slow and careful. when he reached the top edge of her bikini, he hesitated for a second, then kept going, thumbs brushing just beneath the fabric’s edge, where the sun would hit.

she squeaked. 

“hold still,” he murmured, but his voice was rougher now, betraying the way he was very much not holding still inside. 

“i can do it myself,” she offered weakly.

“nope,” he answered, again, always the same. “i’ve got you.” 

he finished with her chest, fingers just barely brushing down the centre of her sternum before shifting his touch to her cheeks. she blinked when he dotted a bit on her nose, then spread it gently over her scrunched face.

his hands continued their descent however, fingers skimming the sides of her ribcage before coming to rest on the delicate curve of her chest. he could feel her heart point beneath his palms as he began to smooth the sunscreen again over her skin, his touch lingering and lingering until it bordered on a caress. 

her chest was small, barely a handful at best and even that was a reach. but they were subtle in shape but soft with a slope that disappeared gently into the flat of her sternum. there wasn’t much there, not by anyone’s standards, but it was hers. modest and understated, like the rest of her. maybe that was why is drove her insane. 

caleb traced the edge of the fabric, dipping just slightly beneath to tease the soft flesh underneath. she gasped softly, her back arching slightly as a holt of sensation shot through her.

 “caleb,” she whimpered, glancing around nervously to see if anyone had noticed his brazen touch. “not here, someone might see…”

“i don’t care, let them see. you’re drivin’ me mad.” caleb growled, his voice low and rough with desire. his hands covered her small mounds completely, kneading and squeezing the supple flesh until her nipples strained against the thin fabric of her bikini top, which admittedly wasn’t all that much of a challenge. he could feel them hardening beneath his touch, the pebbled peaks pressing into his palms as he rolled and plucked at them through the material.

“gege, please…” she begged, but her protest was cut off by a sharp gasp as caleb ducked his head, flipping the top downwards and caught one stiff nipple between his teeth. 

he sucked, hard, drawing the sensitive bud into the wet heat of his mouth as his hand continued to plunder and grope her other tender breast. she writhed beneath his touch, nails digging into his thigh as she fought the urge to cry out, soft, nervous pantings of his name leaving her. 

he seemed determined to mark her, to leave his claim on her body for all to see. he laved her nipple with his tongue, sucking hard enough to leave blooming red hickeys in the shape of his mouth. his fingers pinched and tugged at the tender buds, rolling them between the pads of his fingers until she could only whimper and moan helplessly. 

by the time caleb finally released her, her breasts were red and sore, puffy, the skin tender to the touch. her nipples throbbed, the flesh puffy and sensitive from caleb’s relentless assault. she could barelyy stand to have her bikini top brush against them, let alone the rough fabric of a towel. caleb seemed to take a perverse pleasure in her discomfort, smirking as he watched her squirm. 

caleb could see the way her small chest heaved with each shuddering breath, the way her nipples strained against the fabric of her bikini top. he knew he had her right where he wanted her— at his mercy, craving his touch even though she wished to push him away.

“look at you, so sensitive” he taunted, fingers plucking at her abused nipples. they were puffy and tender to the touch. despite her lack of endearment, he couldn’t resist the temptation to keep toying with them, rolling the stiff peaks between his fingertips till she was whimpering pitifully.

caleb’s eyes gleamed with a possessive light as he took in the sight of her abused flesh, small breasts mottled red, the skin incredibly sensitive and sore to the touch. he could practically see the outline of his fingers imprinted on the tender swell, the remnant of his hungry kisses. 

“i don’t think you’ll be able to wear that flimsy bikini top for the rest of the day.” he reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of the fabric, watching as she shuddered and bit her lip to keep from whimpering. “in fact, i don’t think you should wear the top at all.”

her eyes widened at his implication, huffing as she shook her head vehemently. “caleb, i can’t— “ she stammered glancing around the crowded beach nervously.

caleb’s response was swift and decisive. he grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head, revealing his muscular torso. 

her breath caught in her throat at the sight, her eyes roaming over the hard planes of his chest. caleb had always been fit, but the years in the daa and with the carapace fleet had honed his body into one sculpted by the gods. 

“no one will see,” he promised, “not if you wear my shirt. i won’t let anyone see you like this, with my marks all over your skin. i know you get embarrassed easily.” he smiled, tapping her nose as he tilted his head. “hm, is that it? are you embarrassed of your gege?”

he moved to help her put on his shirt, guiding her arms through the sleeves, his fingers brushing against her skin and sending little tingles of electricity in their wake. she shivered slightly at his touch, still feeling the lingering ache from his earlier ministrations. 

“here, let me help you,” he murmured, voice low and gentle as he eased the shirt down her torso, the fabric swallowing up her figure under she looked like the shirt was dwarfing her entirely. the shirt hung loosely on her, the neckline slipping off her shoulder and revealing the creamy expanse of skin there. caleb couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight.

“there,” he let out, smoothing the hem down with both hands, a satisfied sound leaving his throat. “much better.”

she peeked up at him beneath her lashes, a soft little pout forming on her lips. “you’re a jerk.”

“damn right i am,” he said, brushing a hand along the curve of her jaw before tilting her chin up. “you walk around looking like that, and you expect me to share? not happening.”

his voice dipped low, right against her ear. “you’re mine.”

and with one arm sliding firmly around her waist, he kept her tucked beneath his side sitting on the beach towel— exactly where he wanted her. 

out of sight, out of reach, and all his.

[draxofoy]

i haven't posted anything here omg kinda nervous... but here's zutara in traditional javanese wedding attire 🙇🏻‍♀️ commissioned this from my friend she's amazing 😖❗️

some facts about the attire! ☺️😙

The headwear these babies are wearing are called Blangkon and Cunduk Mentul, Blangkon is a traditional headwear worn by men usually in Central Javanese and Yogyakarta (especially the one Zuko is wearing!) The word Blangkon itself is said to came from the word 'blanco' referring to the blank cloth used to make the headwear, tho there are soo many theories about the origin of both the headwear and the name itself cause sadly there aren't many records about it :(

The headwear is also used to represent wisdom and class because back then, these were used to differentiate the nobilities from the commoners (wr don't really do that anymore dw). The Javanese people believe that your hair, head, and face are the most important and treasured parts of your body, so these Blangkon are used to protect those parts. We also believe that Blangkon represent self-control, since Javanese men tend to keep their hair long back then and keep them loose when they're in a state of 'conflict' such as battles or war, representing uncontrollable flow of emotions so keeping their hair up and covered is seen as an act of self control.

As for the Cunduk Mentul, these pretty headpieces are typically worn by brides on their wedding day! They represent 'the sun that shines over the universe' and also... well, it depends on the number of the pieces they use, usually it's 1, 3, 5, 7, or 9, each representing a different value. 1 is used as a symbol of God's singularity, usually worn by muslim brides, 3 is for the Trimurti or the Trinity of Hindu Gods that deeply rooted in Javanese values, 5 is for the five pillars of Islam, 7 symbolizes 'help' or 'aid'- the Javanese believe that 7 is a lucky number since 7 is 'pitu' in Javanese, so, yeah, 'pitu' for 'pitulungan' or help and aid in Javanese language. 9 represent the Nine Saints/Wali Sanga, 9 saints that have a major impact on the growth of Islam in the island of Java.

Their clothing respectively are called Beskap and Kebaya 🤩 Beskap is more of a modern version of Javenese traditional clothing, for it was adopted from the modern suits worn by the Deutsch during the colonization era. The word Beskap came from the word 'beschaafd', meaning civilized (oh!)

Kebaya, on the other hand, has no specific area origin cause each region has their own styles and versions! The one Katara is wearing is a Central Java Kebaya tho, famous for the velvety fabric and dark colors along with the gold motifs. The history of 'modern' Kebaya itself started in the 15th century when Dutch first settled in Dutch East Indies (now Indonesia!) The clothing had taken inspirations from different cultures (like Chinese and Indian) along the way since Indonesia was (kinda still is!) One of the centers of trade routes for both Hindia and Pacific Oceans.

Damn I'm getting tired of writing this, but next 😭 is Kain Jarik! A piece of fabric with Batik motives wrapped around the legs :))) these babies have RANGE, like they could be used daily, for traditional dance attire, sacred rituals, weddings, even used in funerals 😀 they're usually 2 to 3 meters in length and more variations in width, easy to customize! They also usually have dark colors like dark brown and light brown motives, but i asked my friend to draw them with red and blue and gold motives cause why not 😝

Anyways I think i went a little overboard cause my fingers are hurting from typing this lol.

[oopsallturtles]

Awww, thank you so much @bagels-and-cream-cheese333 and @soaptastesfunny!!

Okay, so one of the things I'm trying to be better about is leaving comments on things because it means so much when it happens to me, so I'm going to treat this like a big collection of ao3 comments towards the users I've found to be supremely amazing in my time exploring tumblr:

@somerandomdudelmao - your cass apocalypse series is half the reason I got a tumblr account in the first place. Your art and story have made me feel just about EVERY emotion, and inspired me to want to work on my own art and stories about this best little turtle family <3

@wickcipher - you have NO idea how excited I get when I see an update to your portaljacked comic!! The art is so cute and the way you write the brothers is spot on.

@grey-viridian - your rottmnt art is brain-tingling perfect, I LOVE IT SO MUCH

@remedyturtles - your rottmnt fics MAKE ME FEEL THINGS. You have an amazing talent for making these characters so real. I don't make fanart, but the little kid with a death wish pushed me over the edge to finally decide I wanted to learn to draw so that I can make a worthy attempt - KEEP WRITING FOREVER PLEASE

@dandylovesturtles - your rottmnt fics are SO GOOD -- AND I HAVEN’T EVEN READ THE BIG BOY i may be invisible fic YET. But I KNOW it’s going to be amazing if your other ones are any indication (not to mention the fanart and snippets I've read). It’s next on my reading list and I don’t know if my heart can take it IM SO EXCITED

@bobtheacorn - you’re the first ao3 author I subbed to because I have read all your rottmnt fics and LOVED THEM. Which says a lot since I normally don’t read anything with pairings in the rottmnt fandom, but I took a chance and, congrats, you’ve won me over with leosagi with your sky that i sleep under series <3

@bagels-and-cream-cheese333 - I absolutely love how involved and encouraging you are in this fandom. You helped make me (and i know SO many others) feel so welcomed! I now also think of you every time I pass by the bagels in the grocery store XD

@tonystarkwasrobbed, @the-city-kitty , @carrots-bear, @asheronangel - you guys were some of the very first people to interact with my posts and soon became names that I recognized and got excited to see! You’re all so fun, kind, and welcoming and helped me feel like I could do more than just lurk silently in the background in this fandom space lol

@trilobitepunch - your art is what I aspire towards. It is SO gorgeous and instantly recognizable as yours, I ADORE it so much

@heretherebeturtles-comic - my first thoughts at seeing this comic art: THERE'S NO WAY THIS IS FAN MADE, IT’S TOO SHOW ACCURATELY PERFECT. The amount of work and care you must have put into this is AMAZING! I will never get over it and I’m looking forward to the next update!

@thursdaysyme - your art. YOUR ART! It’s SO cool. One of the rare few whose style I can identify as yours with just a glance. I love your comic panels and your sense of humor with those brothers is so great lol

@soaptastesfunny - FRIEND!! I’ve been having so much fun chatting and exchanging story ideas with you! I love seeing your art and I’m so excited to see what you’ll be drawing, writing, and creating next!!

@banana-jar-studio - your art is mindblowing. It’s SO GOOD and has such a super fun energy to it, I want to plaster my walls with your art

@intotheelliwoods - i’m so happy the tmnt au competition introduced me to your 2 arms left comic! Your art is so freaking adorable and expressive, i love it so much!!

@novastar-creations - thank you so much for making that rise art challenge! Even if I only managed to complete a few of the prompts, that was the most fun i’d had making art in quite a while! I love seeing your comments as well as your drawings, and I legit still laugh when I think of that one you drew of Leo eating pancakes for pancake day.

@howl-182 - This is very specific, and I don’t know how you do it, but your art made me actively enjoy the human versions of rise turtles. I’m typically just neutral about human redraws, but every time I see yours, it makes me stop and be like THAT’S THEM! You capture their essence perfectly and I am impressed every time.

@resha04 - You commented on my fic and you were SO incredibly kind and thoughtful and just the most epic hype-man that your name is forever burned in my mind (hope that’s not weird haha). I feel like every time I see a post from you, you’re lifting up people’s works with a love of creativity that’s just so lovely and you remind me all the time that my words do matter and that I need to share with people the good things I see in them and their works (hence this post, actually!)

@snowbriar - I love this mission you’re heading on Project Rise Revised!! In sifting through all those lost pieces and stringing things together on that red stringed plot board, I can see the passion and excitement you have for this and i’m so glad that you invited me to be a part of it, even in just a small way! Everyone working on this is super cool and it’s these types of what-if passions that got me into writing in fandoms in the first place.

I know there’s dozens of others whose creative/genius/hilarious posts I’ve seen floating around that I LOVE, and I’d tag you all if I could, but it takes me forever to learn usernames to specific works lol. But I look forward to growing my hoard of likes thanks to you all! Keep writing/drawing/posting! You are amazing!

hey, did you know that the world is a better place because of your creations and art and writing, no matter how niche or how many people see it

[crescenthistory]

if you're comfy w/ writing this, could i request a barty x reader, where barty gives reader a piercing? or reader gives barty a piercing? (either is fine, you can choose!) i've been thinking about it all day 😗

~🍓

i wrote this aaaaages ago and forgot to post it lol, sorry berry!

wc: 1.6k

cw: gn!reader, no use of y/n, fluff, suggestive undertones, amateur piercings, vague needles, don't try this at home plz. modern au, established relationship, barty's general bursts of mania

Note: this is partially inspired or at least motivated by my chat with komi about dyeing barty's hair for him

“And why did this have to happen at 2 AM again?” You asked wearily as you carded your hands through Barty's slightly damp hair.

He sat on a chair in front of you, chin against your stomach and grinning widely up at you. His face was illuminated by the shimmery moonlight streaming in through the mosaic windows of the prefect bathroom.

About 20 minutes ago, there was a rapid and insistent knocking on your door, one that each and every one of your roommates clearly recognised as Barty as they groaned your name. You flicked your wand towards the door to let in a stumbling Barty, wearing his signature smirk, pajama bottoms that were hanging dangerously low on his hips and a tattered shirt with wet spots around his neck. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower and all but come barging in to find you.

There were various grunts from around the room at the light that streamed in behind Barty. Someone threw a pillow in your general direction, smacking into one of your bed posts before falling to your mattress with a soft thump.

“Babe, take your dog and leave,” one of your dormmates grumbled, though not without an underlying affection for both you and your dog.

You gave Barty a look that you hoped screamed “look, you've gotten me in trouble” even as you jumped out from beneath your covers, suddenly awake just for him. You quickly shimmied on something more fitting for whatever adventures Barty had in store for you, not feeling like trekking through half of Hogwarts in your undies.

Barty just grinned back at you, though perhaps a bit sheepishly, as he picked up a jumper that was hanging over the back of a chair and threw it to you. Were it not for the other people in the room, you were sure he would have commented on the fact that it was his jumper.

“Well, because it was at 2 AM when I wanted to do it, and you said to get your help next time,” Barty drawled in response, as if this was the most natural response in the world. He was drawing circles into the flesh of your hips. “And I figured you would be more upset about me ditching you than waking you.” He gave you a crooked smile that gleamed with every ounce of cunning in his body – which wasn't a light statement.

You shook your head but made no attempt to quell the curling of the corners of your lips as you continued carding through his hair, which was drying more and more each time you caressed it. You hummed in response, not wanting to pick an argument you knew you would lose.

“What do you want to pierce this time then, my love?”

Barty seemingly melted further against you at the term of endearment, irrevocably yours in this intimate moment. He hummed as he pushed your shirt up enough to shower your midriff with soft kisses. “How do you feel about a helix?” he murmured against your skin, smiling when you had to suppress a giggle at the ticklish sensation.

“You're asking as if I'm the one getting the piercing.” You huffed a laugh, scratching your nails up and down his neck to get his attention back. “How do you feel about another helix?”

“I'm just in the mood to get another piercing, doesn't really matter which one,” he said absentmindedly, as if body modifications were an afterthought and not an active decision. “I’ll get them all eventually anyway.”

“Oh, so if I wanted to give you a Prince Albert, you would be all fine and dandy with that?” You laughed as you spoke, shaking your head at him.

Barty just grinned and winked at you. “If I want anyone to give me a Prince Albert it would be you with those pretty hands of yours.”

You tried to just scoff and not let his insinuations get to you. “When that day comes, I will drag you to a professional piercer myself. Don’t want you getting an infection.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Barty murmured against your stomach before nipping lightly at your exposed flesh to get you squealing. A light tug at the dark roots of his hair got him to look back up at you, eyes landing on yours as he couldn’t fight his laughter.

“Helix then?” You let one of your hands card back through his hair, soothing where you pulled at it. 

He hummed in the affirmative and leaned into your touch.

Not able to deny yourself, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his forehead. You tried pulling back, but Barty’s hands tightened around the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as he tilted his head backwards to capture your lips with his. It was a stretch in this position, but Barty didn’t relent before he had gently invaded your mouth, sucking your bottom lip into his.

“Now I’m ready,” he said through a grin as he pulled back.

“Alex was right, you are a dog.” Despite the admonishing, you reflected his grin as you pulled back to grab your wand.

“I distinctly remember Alex calling me your dog.” Barty flipped the chair around so he could fold his arm over its back, watching you walk around in preparation.

“My dog then,” you corrected. “But a dog nonetheless.”

With the flick of your wand, you sterilised the equipment Barty had procured from somewhere in his dorm – that you wholly didn’t trust to be state of the art, but it would have to do – and your own hands and arms before you put on the black gloves.

“What a professional,” Barty mused.

“One has to do their research with a boyfriend like you.” You walked back towards him with the equipment and your wand.

“Mmm, call me your boyfriend again, baby.”

You laughed, swatting the air near his arm, not wanting to have to sterilise your hands again so soon. “You have got to focus, B. Do you want to draw up where you want the helix?”

He just shook his head, leaning his chin on his folded arms, smiling wider when you visibly noticed the flexing of his bicep. “Just put it somewhere between the other two. On the right side.”

“You don’t want me to draw up where?” you asked dryly.

Barty reached out, his hands once more finding the backs of your thighs as he pulled you closer, kneading the flesh in admiration. “Where’s the fun in that? I’m ready, Dragă.”

You softened a little in his touch and hummed in the affirmative. “Alright, baby. Turn your head for me?”

Barty dutifully listened to you, dumb smile he only reserved for you on his face. With the flick of your wand, you pulled his hair away from his ear and cleaned it, preparing. You fumbled a little with the needle, far from a professional but knowing that you with your research is better than Barty recklessly doing this on his own. The needle was the proper one at least, hollow and sharp, ideal for helixes. You had a titanium barbell pinched between two of your fingers, ready to be inserted.

“Are you ready, my love?” you whispered, not wanting to hurt him while knowing he didn’t mind.

He looked at you in his peripheral vision. “For your hands on me? Always.”

You let out a chuckle before breathing in deeply and setting the needle to what seemed like the ideal place between his other ear piercings. Swiftly, you pushed it through just like the countless videos you watched back home had shown you. With kind fingers, you replaced the needle with the barbell, using the instrument to screw on the end. 

“And there we go!” you announced quietly, mostly to yourself. You dipped your head down to drop a kiss to his messy hair, nose brushing against acid green and dark brown strands.

You quickly discarded your gloves and lifted your wand to wash and sterilise the piercing once more. You didn’t think of how closely you stood double-checking that there was indeed very little blood trickling out, despite his ear being slightly red, which you supposed was quite normal – until Barty swung his legs off the chair and moved his grip from your thighs to your waist to pull you close.

He laughed against your mouth as he kissed you deeply, kiss after kiss placed on your own giggling lips.

“B! Don’t you want to see the piercing?” you managed to get out between kisses.

“Always so focussed,” he murmured, but he did rest his forehead against yours.

Grabbing your own hand with his, Barty pulled you towards the nearby full-length mirrors that the prefect bathroom was filled with – “so they can practise being even more in love with themselves” Barty would always say.

He stepped close to the reflection, turning his head to see the piercing that had landed rather evenly between his two other helixes. “Sick.” He turned to you with a grin. “You are a true professional, aren’t you, baby?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he swallowed it with another kiss, dragging you back against the mirror with him. He intended to thank you profusely for your services.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

I saw a post today that made me sit up and go 👀 so for the kiss prompts if ur into it: SalBuckTommy with maybe 18, 36, or whichever sparks the most joy/inspiration <3

~ @wee-fuckin-woo :]

(...as encouragement, ...to give up control)

This is going to be borderline porn, sorry, I can't not with that idea and those men. I fused the two a little.

Sal is an asshole, but he's not a homewrecker. He's especially not going to wreck the home of Tommy, someone who's meant more to him over the years than he's ever been comfortable putting words to.

So when Buck starts giving him those shy little smiles and ducking his head and flushing all pretty and licking his lips when Sal's around, he backs off. He doesn't want to tell Tommy, but he doesn't want Buck to turn around and break the guy's heart by stepping out on him with someone else.

Tommy, bless his heart, seems to be oblivious to the whole thing. He doesn't treat Sal any different, doesn't back off on the hugs or the shoulder and neck squeezes, doesn't stop grinning at him over every little thing. It's the same it's been between them for years, the same easy affection that's sometimes spilled over into something more on lonely nights.

He's having dinner with them one night, and there's more wine than there should be. Sal brought a bottle (he was raised right, despite what some people might say) and Tommy had cracked one open before he arrived, so they're a couple bottles deep and scraping the remnants of dessert into their mouths when Sal feels a foot brush his calf.

They've all got long legs, Buck especially, and the table isn't especially huge. So he writes it off as someone stretching at first, and then it happens again. Sal looks across the table and sees Buck watching him, and he feels heat and anger flare in his chest.

"You're kidding me, right?" he says, nodding toward Tommy. "Does he mean nothing to you, kid?"

"That's not his foot, Salvatore," Tommy says dryly, and Sal's anger freezes in his throat. "But thanks for defending my honor."

Sal looks between them, sees the look they exchange, and understanding dawns on him.

"Oh," he says, brows raising. "So, what are we thinking here?"

"We're thinking," Buck says, getting out of his chair and coming around to Sal's seat, settling easily on his thighs and pressing his hands to Sal's suddenly heaving chest, "that you haven't been picking up any hints."

"For weeks," Tommy adds, swallowing his last mouthful of wine. "Months, actually."

He gets up and kneels next to the two of them, and Sal's struck as always by how pretty Tommy looks on his knees.

"Go ahead," Tommy encourages. "He's been wanting it for months."

Sal looks up at the kid perched on his lap, brings his hands up to cradle his neck and jaw, and draws him into a kiss. Yeah, sue him, he's thought about kissing Buck a whole lot. He's beautiful, he's sweet, he's sharp, he's brave, he's enough of an idiot that he'll put up with Tommy's bullshit. So maybe he'll put up with some of Sal's.

When he feels Tommy's hand curl around the back of his neck, he turns his head and kisses him, too. Fuck it, if he's going to give in to them, he might as well give up any ounce of self-control he's been clinging to while he's been been flirted with for months by these two.

"C'mon," Buck says, sliding off his lap. "There's a really big, brand new bed in our room."

"I know," Sal snarks. "I moved the fuckin' thing in."

"Yeah, and then you ran off before we could ask you to fuck one of us on it, so let's go," Buck says, grabbing him by the wrist and tugging.

They kiss in every combination they can on their way to the bedroom and even try for one of those three-way kisses, breaking down into buzzed giggles.

"Think we might be too Italian for that," Tommy says, rubbing his nose after he'd smashed it against Sal's.

"You sayin' I got a big nose, Kinard?" Sal teases.

"I'm sayin'," Tommy says, bullying him up against the wall and grinning at him, sly and pretty, "shut the fuck up, Deluca, and show me what you got."

"You know what I got," Sal reminds him, looking over at Buck. "But he doesn't."

"Happy to find out," Buck says, coming at him from the side and kissing his jaw.

It's like being swept up in a riptide and yanked out to sea, having these two all over him, and Sal closes his eyes and gives in.

[wendichester]

can you write smth about cas x reader where shes autistic and dean and sam dont know how to handle her because one minute she's fine, the next shes not and only cas knows how to handle her? absolutely no pressure sweetheart, love your work and would love to see your where you take it 🫶🏼🩷

𓍯𓂃 the language only you speak,

summary. you're overwhelmed. the noises. the lighting. the air. everything's too much. everything but castiel. castiel is everything you need.

pairing. castiel x autistic!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 756

notes / warnings. soft cas being the best emotional support angel 🩷

It starts small. It always does.

The bunker’s too loud tonight. Dean’s clanging around in the kitchen, and Sam’s arguing with him over something dumb, and the lights are too bright, and the hum of the AC feels like it’s drilling into the soft spot behind your eyes.

You try to smile. You try to be normal.

But it’s like your skin is wearing you instead of the other way around. Everything itches. Everything scrapes.

“Hey,” Dean says, tossing a beer cap onto the counter. “You okay?”

You nod too fast, too hard. The wrong rhythm. Dean’s eyebrows pinch, confused. Sam glances at you, then at Dean, like you’re a puzzle with missing pieces they can’t find.

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Dean shifts awkwardly. “Uh… well, we're gonna watch a movie if you wanna—"

“No,” you blurt, louder than you mean to. "No thank you."

The words are stiff, clunky, mechanical. They feel wrong. You feel wrong.

Sam frowns. “You sure? It’s not scary or anything. It’s just—”

“I said no," you choke out, pressing your palms to your thighs, grounding yourself. "I’m fine. I'm fine."

You can tell they don’t believe you.

They exchange that look — the one where they don’t know if they should back off or push. The one that makes you feel like a bomb with a missing timer. Dangerous, unstable.

You bolt.

You don’t mean to. You just have to.

The hallway spins around you as you speed-walk to your room, shutting the door quietly (quietly, you have to stay good, you have to stay polite, don’t slam it, don’t draw more attention).

You sit on the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself, fighting back the burn building behind your eyes.

It’s stupid. You’re stupid. They probably think you’re crazy.

You're so lost in the spiral you almost don’t hear the soft knock on your door.

“Can I come in?” Cas.

You nod, even though he can't see you.

He enters gently, not saying anything. He doesn’t turn on the overhead light. He doesn’t stomp his boots. He just crosses the room like he's made of water and weightless things, and sits beside you on the bed.

“I could sense your distress,” he says simply.

You blink rapidly. “I’m fine.”

Cas tilts his head. "That is a common lie among humans."

The smallest, tiniest huff of a laugh escapes you. It cracks the shell you’re in just enough to breathe.

Cas waits.

Not like the others do — not heavy with expectation, not pacing in impatience — but truly waits. Like there’s all the time in the universe and he’s already given it to you.

You squeeze your hands together so tight it hurts. “It’s just... sometimes everything’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too everything.”

Cas nods, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like you just told him the sky is blue.

“They don't mean to make it worse,” you whisper. “They just... don’t know what to do with me.”

“They love you,” Cas says quietly. “But they do not understand you the way you deserve.”

You blink again, tears finally breaking free. Cas reaches out — slow, careful — and places his hand over yours.

Warmth. Steady. Anchor.

“You are not a burden,” he says. His voice hums like a prayer. “Your feelings are not wrong. Your needs are not wrong. You are not wrong.”

You clutch his hand like a lifeline. Like a tether pulling you back to the earth.

“I don’t know how to make them not... uncomfortable," you admit, voice shaking. “I don’t want to be a problem.”

“You are not a problem,” Cas says firmly. “You are a person. One who experiences the world more sharply, perhaps. But that is not something to fix. It is something to cherish.”

You hiccup a soft, broken laugh. “Dean would probably disagree.”

Cas’s mouth twitches into something almost-smile. “Dean is often wrong.”

You snort. Cas squeezes your hand, just once.

“They will learn,” he says. "I will help them."

You look at him — this strange, stubborn, tender creature who always sees the parts of you you try to hide — and for the first time tonight, your chest feels a little lighter.

You lean your head against his shoulder. He lets you. No flinching, no fidgeting, no trying to fix you. Just there.

Just enough.

Maybe you’re not broken after all.

Maybe you just needed someone who speaks the same language.

And Cas? Cas is fluent in you.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[kleptomaniakrow]

hi, i'm back on my brainrot bullshit so you know what time it is. B)

hear me out, (some) KorTac men (specifically König, Krueger and Nikto), dating an artist. normally i often see most drabbles or thoughtfully crafted pieces delve down the writer route (go figure), but hear me out!!

tried my best to keep it gender neutral but like, there might be one femme-leaning pet-name + the use of "little one" for Nikto's bit! i am not a russian-speaking native so i hope the one i grabbed is gender neutral as well (feel free to correct me if it isn't)! also idk about yall but personally i'm running with his government first name being "Andre," idk why it just suits him imo!

overall this was just another idea that fucking possessed me as i was working on some art! i am taking it upon myself to shove this idea out of my brain and into the ether of tumblr dot com! so enjoy my fluffy brain rot!

if they're a little ooc uh... i'm still figuring out how to write these three idiots (affectionate) so bare with my bird brained self!

not proof read btw. so if you see typos... no you didn't.

enjoy these little pebbles of purely sickeningly sweet, silly fluff under the cut! :)

♚ König. . .

✦ he would fucking love to see your drawings i will die on this fucking hill! this fact about you was one of the most exciting thing he ever learned about you and by god was this man like a child in a candy store witnessing all of your art pieces, new or old! ✦ this big, burly man gets so soft and proud seeing your sketches become finalized pieces. the art of creation is always such a wonderous marvel to behold, seeing you turn out the rest of the world when you fully submerge yourself into the motions is a marvel. ✦ honestly, let's be real, he would take this chance to just stare at you (affectionately). because you're too deep in your own little world, likely with headphones on or music playing, perhaps even a podcast of choice as you pen your ideas to paper be it on actual paper or on a more digital medium! ✦ if you ever, and i genuinely mean EVER, take the time to draw his portrait (with or without his face coverings ofc), i think this man would full-on bawl like a baby. pathetic snot dribbling from his nose, horrendously tearful but it's all for good reasons, please don't worry! ✦ "Mein schatz..." / "Do you like it?" / "I've no words that would do it justice... it's... incredible, maus." ✦ i bet fucking money he'd save that to his phone, keep a copy of it in his pocket of a kevlar vest, something tangible that you earnestly made for him with intents of capturing your muse onto parchment. between photos of you he keeps to himself, little traces of your existence just make his heart sing. parchment long since creased from how many times he's opened it and closed it, weathered and worn but it's something you made for him to keep. these items that were made or owned by you are invaluable, no amount of money could every buy these off of him. you and anything you make are treasures he'd protect indefinitely. ✦ in the sense of a long-distance relationship, or perhaps he's away on work such as deployment, you'd often share what you're working on, be it still images or (stable internet, be willing), you lull him to sleep with vague humming whilst screen-sharing projects you're determined to see to fruition. ✦ if you're ever insecure about your work, this big ass goof (affectionate) would stumble over his words but he'd want nothing more than for you to constantly be up his ass about what you do, side-hustle or hobby otherwise. ✦ König is your number 1 supporter, and he'd sooner turn in his premature grave before he'd ever slip up on an opportunity to let you think otherwise. even if you find your talent lackluster by comparison, he'd perish atop mountains shouting how talented his beloved schatz is! the way you breath life into such fictitious subjects always drew him in, especially with how you drew eyes and expressions (especially when he noticed you often mimic the facial creases yourself when focusing on expressions, but he'd never tell you. it's too precious to point out so brazenly). ✦ frankly, if this passion of yours is important to you, it's important to him, and he will not budge on this. what sparks you joy will be a wonderous experience for him too, and what partner would he be if he wasn't supportive of your interests, hobbies or line of work?

♜ Krueger. . .

✦ see, Sebastian would be a bit interesting because you'd think at first he'd pay little to no mind. ✦ his steps are so quiet around the house that half the time you're just ignorant of his presence for several minutes before the inkling of someone behind you ever crossed your mind. ✦ it's not that you'd mind (not unless he scares the proverbial piss out of you, of course) but he just can't help but be curious. maybe he's not one for the modern arts (perhaps more classical?) but... you're his darling little liebling, he isn't so much as a fool to be ignorant of your interests. ✦ however he's not too partial to being seperate from you; krueger gives me the impression he's partial to physical touch... when he wants to be that is (frankly he's no better than a cat in my eyes). ✦ "Schatzi?" / "Hmmm~?" / "Come, bring your little drawing things with you if you must but I need you here," ✦ he now fully sees a character design you've been working on and admittedly... curiosity does get the better of him and he begins inquiring what you're working on whilst your form settles into his. ✦ "Oh! This is a commission for someone who paid me illustrate a character for their indie game!" he just nods along, allowing you space to involve him into this little world of yours. revealing to him the various concepts tossed back and forth between you and your client. ✦ Sebastian is (quietly) fascinated by how your creative little mind works. keenly taken notes, exhibiting your perceptive attentive to rather pedantic details―it's so annoyingly endearing. he's come to find himself enamored by entertaining your eccentric interests, ones that vastly differ from his. but these are distinctive traits he's come to adore you for. ✦ he jokingly threw out the idea of how he'd look in such a world of whimsy given your subjects of focus is often fantasy. oh boy he shouldn't have said that because now you have ideas and that is dangerous to give one's partner with only their imagination as a limiter. ✦ he'd be physically unable to admit to it, but he'd likely have saved the drawings that poured every ounce of love into when imaging him in a knight's garb rather than tac pants and kevlar. the idea of you seeing him as such a regal-looking protector makes his heart do that fluttery, frantic-caged-bird sensation that makes his cheeks and ears warmer than normal.

♞ Nikto. . .

✦ see there's just something about Nikto that gives me the impression he wouldn't even ask. however, don't mistake this as disinterest! baby boy is so fucking curious what his little one is doing! he's just unsure how to articulate such a.. loaded question(?) and you seem so focused on what you're doing! ✦ i kinda see him doing that animal-thing where he just quietly observes every subtle movement, noise or expression that catches his eye‒ you two more often than not just kinda "co-exist" together in the same shared space, not always needing to talk verbally; comfortable, silent company is more than enough between you two, such a peaceful life is more than he'd ever ask for. ✦ instead, i can see him bringing you sustenance and fluids, you're keeping yourself so, so busy but you need to eat and drink at some point! things he knows you like! things that he's memorized by heart! it's always the quiet bitches like him /pos who have an internalized backlog of information when it comes to you. and you appreciate it immensely when so engrossed in the process. ✦ little did he know, you were working on a passion project of the indie development. working along side a few other individuals, tasked design characters for a game jam! the protagonist was concepted to have a build that you're not exactly familiar with drawing (bulky, trained, fit, think professional dead lifter types which distantly remined you of Nikto). ✦ he couldn't help but notice that the usual focus is now tightly knit with frustration. the quiet concern he conveyed with but a glance went unnoticed, far too deep in your own thoughts to really pay any heed to the brewing worry. he had to say something.. anything to snap you out of this mental loop. ✦ "любимый?" ("beloved?") / "Huh?" / "Something troubles you...?" / "Trouble me?— oh! No, no I'm okay!" / "Your expression tells me different... will you allow me to listen? To.. help?" ✦ eventually the big brutish bear cuts through your thoughts to source the root of your worries! it'd cause you to wrinkle far earlier than you mean to! as prompted, you're airing out your grievances with this project being out of your comfort zone. it's hard to come up with a concept that you're happy with and you've deadlines to meet for this project. he listens to you diligently, even if he may not understand the full weight of your plight; it matters to you, then it matters to him, bottom line. ✦ you don't know how exactly, but eventually, somehow, you ended up enlisting Nikto's assistance! his figure is close enough the character pitch the head of your team passed onto your inspiration board! ✦ somehow, that incorrigible art block just... magically vanished! it was mind boggling even to you. Nikto didn't really understand given all he did was slide you a few photos or posed for your creative use. but the creases on your brow line were softer if not gone entirely, so he'd consider his intervention a success. ✦ you find yourself looking at the game's protagonist (whom you coyly suggested he be named "Andre" for no suspicious reason at all), and you're elated! proud of it, too! it's evident that he bears Nikto's likeness in some aspects! aside from the build, of course. Nikto has been watching you work your magic throughout the entirety with silent reverence and seeing you in your natural habitat of creation was.. breath taking. however he couldn't help but notice his heart thumping against his ribcage a little harder seeing his likeness in something you made. it was... flattering almost, seeing how you took characteristics that elicit hardship or grief but you captured his image with calm, quiet confident air. was this how you saw him?

[reidscherrygirl]

೯⁺ 𖥻 𝓟 𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗬 𝟰 𝗨 ! ᰋ

ꨄ︎ 𝒫airing : : 𝒮pencer reid x reader

ꨄ︎ 𝓢ynopsis : : you’re like a cherry. small, tempting, easy to eat, but with a pit at the center. very sweet on the surface, but you might leave a bitter aftertaste if someone isn’t careful. & maybe, despite spencer reid & his eidetic memory, he forgot that. there were no strawberries left▰so he reached for the cherries.

ꨄ︎ 𝒞ontents : : angst. spoilers( maeve ). her = maeve unrequited love. one sided-love( ? ) emotional neglect. grief/mourning. unhealthy coping mechanisms. friends to almost lovers to situationship to strangers. rebound relationship. rebound!reader. unresolved trauma. self worth issues. implied depression. implied sex. abandonment themes. no comfort. reader leaving( not the fbi ). no happy ending( ...unless? ). doesn't give off the angsty vibe( in my defense, i'm more of a fluff girlie ).grammatical errors. ooc. song lyrics mentioned. quotes from pinterest mentioned. reader be legit a people pleaser. spencer is kind of a dick. lowercase. use of "&". not proofread( none of my works are ). english isn't viana's first language.

ꨄ︎ 𝓦ord count : : 2k+

ꨄ︎ 𝓒ase file shelf.

ꨄ︎ 𝒲hispers of viana : : sorry for describing reader as a cherry in the synopsis 😭 please blame pinterest,,,. it wasn't supposed to be this long but i got carried away. i also have no idea if it gives off party 4 u,,, because it kind of gives off mirrorball,, IDKDID. oh & can u guys tell that i tried to be poetic but quit. yeah, i'm no shakespeare. &&& i wasn't planning on posting this because it seemed,,, bland,,, but @yeoniverseee wouldn't stop spamming me, so wow. party 4 u is finally out of prison. USGHSH so bare w me indygis one💔 this is my first ever angst ( & i suck at writing angst ). also, the you always let him in & he always visits part is so michaelia coded lawd. ( guess who finished rereading the naturals in just one day ) @dntaed read the naturals already plsplsplspls🤞🏼🤞🏼/j

𝓨ou tell yourself it's okay.

you tell yourself every time his hands linger on your skin, every time the gentle sweep of your waist doesn't hold him fast, every time the silence following your laughter draws out too long & he backs away with a muttered apology about papers or a case or some distant pain he neglected to share. you smile through it all.

because he's at least making an effort, right? you are, too. you always are. always going the extra step, always showing up on his doorstep when you feel like he most needs you, always acting like you don't notice how his eyes are seeing right through you. acting like the hands that hold you in the dark aren't clutching cold with guilt.

he doesn't kiss you in the mornings. that's how you know it's not real. he never does. even after long nights tangled together, bodies pressed close as if closeness could buy out for the sections of him you can't touch. he always sneaks away when the sun comes up. & you let him.

it began perhaps three or four months following her passing. you can't utter her name. he won't, either. not with you.

you swallow her ghost every time you say nothing. you keep her between your ribs, where your hope used to be.

he was mourning, & you were seeking to aid. individuals like you▰those who speak perhaps too blunt sometimes, who dig their nerves deep beneath control & calculation & bullheaded kindness▰you do not necessarily comprehend how to display love. yet you tried.

you sat with him at first, quiet. made coffee. touched his wrist gently when he winced. & slowly, things began to change.

he kissed you once when he was exhausted. you reassured yourself it meant something.

you told yourself his breath in your mouth was a promise. it didn't.

& now it's this. whatever this is. the team doesn't question. but they're aware. you can see in the looks. the soft gazes from jj. the raised eyebrow from emily. the way derek half grins at you, always like he's holding back some thought he knows better than to express. & penelope… she doesn't exactly hide her pity.

& pity tastes worse than anything.

you were trained to read people. not like how spencer reads people. not genius level profiling & eidetic memory. no, you picked it up in the quiet spaces. in silences that warned you who could be trusted, in eyes that did not meet yours. you learned to know when someone was going to depart.

he has not departed. but he's never stayed.

sometimes he calls you in the middle of the night. you don't even ask anymore. you just come. & he lets you curl around him like warmth might burn the sorrow out. he never says her name. he never has to. you can feel it in the way he touches you with fingers like ghosts.

months ago, you overheard him.

you weren't supposed to. you didn't mean to, light steps from habit. the door was left slightly ajar. he was discussing something with alex.

“it doesn't matter what she looks like. she's already the most beautiful girl in the world to me," he stated.

his tone was quiet, filled with something you couldn't define.

he has no idea of what this person looks like, & is already the most beautiful in his mind, you▰someone who he has worked with for years▰could never top that.

you didn't cry then. you just closed the door. waited an hour before walking in & pretending you hadn't heard.

& now, tonight▰tonight he doesn't come home. not until late. you wait anyway, because that's what you do. wait & hope & pretend. when he finally walks in, looking like exhaustion & something rawer, you open your mouth & asked, "are you okay?"

& he stares at you like that's the incorrect question.

"i'm fine."

you despise that word. more than anything. it's the word that you both use when the truth is too painful. for spencer reid, “i'm fine” is a call for help.

"you forgot we had dinner."

he doesn't even flinch. "i didn't forget."

& there's the truth. he didn't forget. he just didn't show.

"i waited," you say quietly. "if you were arriving late, you could've at least told me.”

he touches his hair. "i know. i'm sorry. the day just got▰"

"don't lie to me."

that makes him flinch. his lips shut, eyes narrowing. but there is no anger there. only that weary, endless pain you've learned too well.

"i didn't mean to lie."

"but you did."

he breathes out, slow. "i'm not ready. you know that."

you swallow past the lump in your throat. "& what am i? a distraction? a placeholder?"

his silence is too long. it's everything.

you laugh. "i thought maybe… maybe one day, if i stayed, if i loved you hard enough, you'd see me." you whisper like it’s a secret you’ve said a thousand times before.

his face changes. pain. guilt. "i do see you."

"not like that."

he takes another step forward. you take a step back.

"don't," you tell him. "don't touch me unless you mean it."

he stands still. you can see it. the panic, the guilt, the uncertainty. all of it knotted in the air between you.

"i didn't mean to hurt you."

"but you did."

he doesn't deny it.

you wipe your face, realizing too late that you're crying. "i know she meant everything to you. i know you're still grieving. but i thought maybe i could help you heal. not. not be the wound you keep cutting open."

his hands twitch. like he wants to reach for you. but he doesn't.

"i'm sorry," he says. & it's silent. genuine. "i thought i was fine. but every time i see you, i feel like i'm stealing something i don't deserve."

"you think i don't know that?"

he's taken aback.

"you think i don't know i'm just a rebound? you think i don't notice the way you wince every time i tell you i love you?"

he shuts his eyes.

"i wish you didn't," he whispers.

you laugh once more. bitter. "so do i."

there's silence. the kind that chokes. the kind that stabs you. the kind that bleeds & you didn't even realize it until he's drifting away once again.

you press your fingers into your wrist just to feel something steady.

you don't tell him to go. he does anyway.

& when the door shuts, you let yourself collapse onto the couch. fingers curled tight in the pillow. trying to recall how to breathe.

because you'll take it. every piece. every touch. every half truth.

until you can't anymore.

but god▰you love him so much it destroys you.

you had fallen off your pedestal many times, broken so many times you think there's no repair for your soul; but no one needed to know that. your cries, the guilt you feel whenever a case comes up, how ashamed you feel because every mistake you make is equal to a person's life.

you have fallen countless times, you played a very risky gamble that left you a permanent wound.

you, a special fbi agent from the bau, will die your mother's daughter.

it doesn’t stop after that night.

you wonder maybe it should've. maybe that would've been simpler. but instead, everything settles into this odd performance, a dance neither of you planned but both of you remember now. & it's uglier than ever. you don't kiss him when he arrives at your doorstep. he doesn't hold you afterwards. you speak less. touch less. feel less▰or perhaps you simply pretend to.

but still you let him in.

& he still visits.

you lie to yourself & say it's alright. that it doesn't mean anything. that this is no longer love, that it perhaps never was, not at all. it's just a craving, a comfort, the warm buzz of flesh & breath & quiet you've become dependent upon. you don't meet his gaze when it's finished. sometimes you don't even say goodbye. simply throw on a blanket & turn toward the wall until he gets up & leaves in silence.

& he always does.

he never sleeps over anymore. not that he ever really did.

& somewhere along the way, you give up trying.

you don't brew his coffee the way he likes it. you don't ask about the topics he's very much educated at. you don't hold his hand when he shakes. you don't send him books you think he'd enjoy or those stupid little riddles you used to text him at 2 a.m. you stop arriving first thing after a tough case. you stop asking if he's alright, because the answer will always be the same.

you still love him. he's your best friend ever since you joined the team, & that's the worst part. you still love him like it's your last breath. but love doesn't mean what it used to.

it's just a quiet ache in your chest now. a thing you carry like a scar.

a scar you dress up in perfume & pretend is perfume.

one evening, he approaches you & you're already half-naked, eyes far away, movements automatic. you don't even glance at him. just drag him down next to you like it doesn't matter. like you don't matter. & then he lightly touches your shoulder, as if to speak, but you roll over before he can.

you don't look at his face. but you sense the tension. the hesitation.

he doesn't return for a week afterwards.

& that's when you received an offer

ncavc▰national center for the analysis of violent crimecriminal investigative analysis program. a split personality job. one foot in the field, the other in behavioral data & strategy. it's ideal for you. something that's like both an escape & a test. the unit is smaller, younger, located out of quantico's satellite offices. not the bau. not him.

you don’t tell him at first. you tell hotch, of course. & emily. you tell penelope over coffee, & she gasps & hugs you & almost cries, & you smile through the lump in your throat. derek claps you on the back & calls you “big shot,” & even rossi gets a little sentimental. jj was emotional, to say, at least. telling you that you better visit her every now & then.

but you avoided spencer.

perhaps you're a coward. perhaps you don't want to witness his expression when he knows this is it.

because it is. you know. this is the time where the almost turns into never. the maybe turns into no. the what if turns into goodbye.

you inform him three days prior to the transfer.

you wait until late, when you know he'll be in his desk. the team's dispersed for the evening, penelope already gone with emily & jj, & derek's somewhere plundering the vending machine. your footsteps sound too loud as you get closer to the bullpen, heart pounding harder than it should.

he doesn't even look up when you knock softly. just hummed softly as greeting & continues reading whatever file is in his hands.

you linger a second too long before uttering it.

"i'm leaving."

that cuts through.

he blinks, looking up. "what?"

you let out a breath. "i was offered a role at the ncavc. it's settled. i will switch over next week."

the quiet lands like a punch. the kind that rebounds.

he lowers the file into his hand with deliberation. "you're not joking?"

you nod. "no, i'm not."

he glares at you, eyes darting across your face as if perhaps he's looking for the part of you that's lying. but you're not. not this time.

"why?"

you shrug. "because i want to. because it's a good chance. because i'm good at this, & because it's a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

you don't say because it kills me to be around you. you don't say because i no longer want to wait. you don't say because when i look at you, i recall how desperately i wished for you to choose me & you never did.

you simply fold your arms. "it's not personal."

it is. you both know that.

he nods, clenching his jaw. "congratulations, then."

that is all he says.

just like that.

you wait another second, expecting▰something. anything. but nothing happens. so you turn & go away.

the team gave you a party two days later.

penelope organized it, of course. there are balloons & streamers & a gold banner that reads "GO SAVE THE WORLD, SUPERSTAR" in glittering letters. someone brought cupcakes. derek delivers a speech that's half jokes, half actual feeling. emily hugs you for longer than is necessary. jj hugged you just as tight. tighter, even. rossi says to you that he's proud of you, that your instincts are better than most people's & he knew that from the beginning. hotch smiles. you swear it's almost warm.

& you, you try to have a good time. really. you do.

you laugh at the jokes. you pose for photos with everyone. you take a sip of punch from a paper cup & smile like your heart isn't racing in your ears.

spencer hangs back the rest of the time.

you catch him staring at you once, chatting with derek about something, laughing at one of his idiotic jokes. you don't glance away. you don't approach him, either.

you haven't said a word since the announcement.

you wonder if maybe that's best.

but later, when you're standing by the food table, refolding napkins just to have something to do, jj approaches beside him.

they speak softly for a few moments. you can't hear what they're saying, but you notice the tension in spencer's shoulders, the way he keeps looking your way like he wants to bolt.

jj's voice is steady, but soft. serious. her hand brushes against his elbow, & he jerks away like it hurts.

you look away before you see any more.

"you could've gave a chance to let her in, spence."

his jaw clenches. "it wasn't that easy."

"it was. you made it harder."

he remains silent.

jj lets out a sigh. "she waited for you. for years. & when she finally gave up, you let her. that's what stings the most, i think."

he gulps hard.

"were you in love with her at some point?"

"i was. maybe. before▰" he was then cut off by the blonde.

"then why didn't you tell her?"

he shakes his head. "i don't know. i▰ she was always focused on her job, maybe i felt like she didn't want any distractions. maybe because she deserves better.”

jj doesn't respond for a second. then she says softly, "maybe you should've let her decide that."

& then she leaves.

( spencer will recall every word jj said for the remainder of his life. )

the party slows down gradually.

bit by bit, the team began leaving. lights get a bit hazier. penelope gives you a big hug that is scented like strawberry perfume & frosting. derek pecks your head & makes you promise to stay in contact or he will track you down. emily gifted you a snoopy mug for your new workspace. rossi tucks a note in your bag reading remember, best profiles are ones that come from the heart & not just the head.

& then there's just you & spencer.

kind of.

he stands by the windows, arms folded, looking out like the night would provide answers.

you stand by the door, coat clutched in your hand, uncertain. he looks your way, & for a moment, there's just you two. all the yelling & years & hurt between you.

he gives a single nod.

you nod back.

this is the most you've spoken in days that's just,, okay.

& it's everything.

you turn & go out the door.

you don’t look back.

he does.

he always will.

© reidscherrygirl

[losver07]

lmao it's fine i wouldnt care much about repeating tbh, i think slowing down a bit might be good for me :)

"why am i always sick? well you see, every full moon i— seriously mate i have a fucking chronic illness, and you have a problem with being nosey. god, i'm not allowed to break bones anymore? for fucks sake"

i mean please look at him and tell me that's not a baby version of timothee. like a special edition lmaoo

oof yea i get that :((

yeah!!! like it happens to me with writing & drawing, my hand just doesn't wanna pick a side lol

obv it makes sense babe we share a braincell

yuppp she's lowkey crazy so it's fun to hear from my bedroom lmao. anyway they've broken up now so ig i won't see her until..... tomorrow probably (and then three days later aprox they'll break up again, so fun)

YES have you seen futurama cause i think there's a chapter where they have a time machine and it's like. the same shit over and over again. like there's a ton of liberty statues buried one on top of each other. gosh that show is my childood

AXOLOTLS ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!!!! and yea moles are awesome. i identify as a mole when im out in the sun (astigmatism)

oh definitely we should french revolutionise her. and yup the stuff she says does not even make sense?? like did an actual human being say that??? idk it makes me depressed tbh she's having a huge economical impact in the worst stuff when she could be donating to orgs that at least don't harm anybody. like ok, you don't like trans ppl. fine. you can donate to OTHER stuff. idk, help orphan children? she should care about them taking into account hp.

i honestly think she's just stubborn and wants to piss us all off. i took a look at her birth chart some time ago and i think she's a leo so yea. she think she the loudest roarer but we used to screamin our lungs out!!!!

↑ idk what that was i just woke up if you couldn't tell :)

i mean how could i reject a cute doggo pic.....

YES IM CONVINCED ITS THEIR REINCARNATION!!!

lmaooo im suuuuch a shakespeare (im not i say dumb shit so the occasional smart shit sounds exceptional)

YAY ill be listening tomorrow hehehee

lol no please god i cannot let my tumblr comments be better than my actual writing jsbckdbckd

okay i can confirm the brush is not that bad. but the expensive ones last years and this one is probably gonna last two months at best (again, can't complain for 4€)

REMUS REEINCARNATION???? we need to find the rest. it's a quest.

sorry did i hear shark tooth collection???? 1. yes that smells like neurospice 2. THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL WTF

in my case i think both my parents have something going on lol, like i very clearly got the ocd from my mum but my dad has over 2k books and probably around 100 game consoles at home so..... (also he has like 6 copies of the divine comedy which is fun cause of course you need six of em dad, sure)

anyway not complaining cause i can play street fighter in a big ass arcade machine :)

not sims but if i wake up from a coma and they tell me i've been dreaming everything since 2020 i would fully believe it. literally every single aspect of my life changed that year. crazy. a lil too crazy...

nuh uh i totally didn't adapt my fashion sense to a fandom.... that's embarrassinggggg......

WE THE FUKIN BEST!!!!

oh shit we already do that LMAO, i have one w a wolf howling at the moon (cause we're cubs but also.... rjl) and one w just the cover of the dark side of the moon. and i have a bowie one in my scarf but that's second hand shopped i fear. we have a lot of meme pins it's scarily funny (the most popular one is the "I DONT SELL COOKIES" one)

you ARE a disney princess like whatttt that's so sweet!!! poor birdie i hope it's okay :(

this is one of the best interactions in the history of tumblr btw. like wtf

"my child is fine" ma'am your child prioritises memorising every single full moon that happened in 1975 over their schoolwork

[minorlyatfault]

𝜗𝜚 MY LOVE , MINE, ALL MINE, ALL MINE ❤︎𝄢..

📞 — aftercare with JASON TODD 𝜗𝜚

✉️ — contents : : aftercare , mentions of jay's scars , fluff , yearner!jason todd , first time having sex ( in their relationship ) , grammatical errors , ooc (?)

✉️ — word count : : 1.9k

✉️ — vi whispers : : woohoo !! we reached 700!! also,, i'm still in the hospital, unfortunately. but i will be doing an event 😋 just expect,,, late responsdjes. back to my oldoldold format!!! NOW. this is acc for @fromdove !! like,, remember when i told you that i'll write you a reply?? well, here it is !! lol, how dare you be upset. + will be redoing my m.list. couldn't edit this bc my mom took my laptop

your skin still tingles. it's as if your entire body is remembering what just occurred in waves ▰ the weight of his palms, the way he spoke your name like it was something sacred. the air smells of sweat & heat & him. all is black except for the warm yellow light from the hallway seeping in through the half-open door. the blankets are kicked halfway off the bed, wrapped around your ankle. you're there with your chest rising & falling slow, like the only thing holding you to earth is the weight of his body beside yours.

he's on your side, one arm slung over your waist, forehead against your shoulder. breathing hard like he's still trying to come down. his palm glides up. your ribcage ▰ not sexually, just there, anchoring himself with you. his lips brush the back of your neck. you feel him smile a little.

"you okay?" he asks, but it's softer than normal. almost like he's afraid to screw this up.

you hum, nod, still panting. "yeah. better than okay."

jason pulls nack a little so that he can see your face. his hair is standing up in a dozen different directions, cheeks flushed, lips puffy. his eyes are dark & gentle & so, so exhausted. but they're all for you like you're the only thing in the world that exists. like perhaps he still can't get his head around you being with him, still with him after ▰ & not just forgotten like everything else.

"good," he mutters, but he still scans your face like he's trying to verify something. then, a beat behind, he adds, "didn't mean to be too rough."

you snort. "you weren't."

he's not looking convinced. his fingers are drawing small circles along your hip now. he doesn't say a word, just presses a kiss to your temple & exhales like his entire body is deflating. you reach down, grasp his hand in yours & bring it to your lips. kiss his knuckles. it's slow, gentle, & something in his chest stutters. cracks. hitched.

he rolls onto his back, arm still wrapped around your waist, & glares up at the ceiling as if it has answers scribbled all over it. his throat bobs as he swallows hard. you can tell he's thinking too much. his walls are still up, just thinner now ▰ llike he's cracking his door open a little, even if he's afraid.

"you sure you're okay?" he repeats. & it was the first time you both had sex ever since you two officially became a couple. & it's not just sex. it's everything. about how much he wishes he could be good to you. about the thousand demons in his chest that tell him he can't.

you shift closer until you're half on top of him, nose bumping his jaw. "jason," you whisper, & that's all it takes for him to relax a little.

his arm wraps tighter around you as if he's scared you'll disappear if he releases you. his other hand runs through your hair, hesitant at first, then more insistent, like he remembers you like it that way. he kisses your forehead, your cheek, the edge of your mouth. over & over, slow & soft, worshipping. he doesn't speak but his hands do ▰ they say thank you & i missed you even though we live in the same apartment & don't go.

his voice is hoarse when he speaks again at last. "lemme get you water."

"don't wanna move."

"i'll carry you."

you laugh into his neck. "you're naked."

he smiles, a little. "so are you."

"bold of you to assume i'm getting up."

"fine," he breathes, leaning his head to kiss you again on the jaw. "we'll dehydrate together. tragically romantic."

he doesn't actually get up for another couple of minutes. just stays there with you on top of him, fingers brushing the curve of your back, languid & awed. but after a bit he rolls over, pats your leg.

"alright," he says softly, "give me two seconds." & already he's slipping under & away from you.

he stands, stretches, runs a hand through his hair. & god ▰ you look. he's hot. you can't help it. the way his back curves, all that muscle shifting under skin like a sculpture made of marble that stood up & decided to look at you like that. he notices you looking & grins, wicked. bitch.

"take a picture," he jokes, picking up his sweats from the floor. "it'll last longer."

you toss a pillow at him. he catches it in mid·air, smiling. "what, can't handle the view?"

"get me water, todd."

he salutes, tugging the sweats on. "yes ma'am."

you watch him walk out & your heart kind of… swells. not just because he’s hot ▰ he is, but it’s more than that. it’s the way he hums under his breath when he thinks you’re not listening. the way he double checks the temperature of the water before bringing it to you. the way he wants to take care of you, even if he’s still learning what that means.

he returns with water & a protein bar. holds the cup to your lips like you're royalty & he's your servant, which cracks you up again. until he says "drink" with this expression that shuts you up real quick. you sip a few times. he stands there the entire time like your health is the most important thing in the world.

you remove the cup from him & place it, then pull him back onto the bed. "your turn," you tell him, pushing his hair behind his ears. "you okay?"

he stiffens a little. as if he wasn't expecting that. as if he forgot that people are allowed to ask him that too.

his voice is gentle when he speaks. "yeah. i just…"

he trails off. but you know. you know.

you run your fingers over his chest. "you don't have to say it."

he nods, then leans in & kisses you again. slow & deep & a little desperate. like he's trying to memorize this. the safety. the closeness. you let him. you kiss him back until he sighs against your lips, until he lets his shoulders relax under your hands, until he's not red hood or a broken boy or the bat's second sidekick ▰ just jason. just yours.

he buries his face in your neck afterwards, whispering, "you're really okay?"

you kiss his shoulder. "yeah. are you?"

he pauses. "i will be."

you hug him closer.

he's so close. you can feel the thump of his heart in the way he presses his chest against yours. it's a slow thrum. not quick, but gentle. intimate. honest. he's not letting you go anytime soon, & honestly, you don't want him to. his mouth leaves tiny kisses along your neck, slow & deliberate, like he's playing catch-up. perhaps he doesn't realize that you see it, but the way his hands are trembling ever so slightly is all you need to know. he's still hesitant, still so goddamned starved for you even though he already has you. there’s something in him that doesn’t stop needing to touch, to feel, as if it’s the only thing that keeps him grounded.

you bite your lip, pushing your fingers through his messy hair. his eyes flicker open & meet yours, half-lidded with exhaustion but intense.

“you’re really here,” he murmurs. like he needs to hear it out loud.

"yeah, jason," you reply softly, tracing your thumb over his cheek. "i'm right here."

he leans his forehead against yours, releasing a breath as if he's not saying anything. his arms wrap tighter around you once more, as if he's worried that you're going to get away if he doesn't hold on. you roll over onto your back, pulling him along with you, the blanket wrapped around your ankles. it's silent for a bit, the only noise is the constant thrum of the city out there & the slow, thudding pulse of his breathing.

then, out of nowhere, he begins kissing you again. slow at first, just his lips grazing against yours. but then, he goes deeper. soft & hungry, his hands cradling your face like you could break. it's warm, it's soft, & you can feel every inch of him. when he pulls back, he gazes at you with uncertainty. his lips red, his hair disheveled, his face too vulnerable for the jason todd you once thought you'd known.

"don't go," he utters softly, & it's as if his entire universe hangs in the balance.

you smile, weaving your fingers through his hair once more. "i'm not going anywhere."

he sighs, a little relieved. but the moment doesn’t last long before his fingers start feeling your body again, gently this time ▰ tracing the line of your spine, the curve of your hip, your stretch marks. his thumb runs over your wrist, brushing lightly, like he’s memorizing you, like he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t miss a single detail of you.

you reach up to touch his chest, & feel his muscles tighten beneath your fingers. he winces a little when your hand slips down, causing him to brush across a scar, but doesn't flinch. instead, he appears to lean into the touch, as though he's finding peace in it.

"sorry," he grunts softly, looking down. "forgot about the scars."

you glance at him, tracing the line of his jaw with your hand. "don't apologize for them," you tell him softly. "they're part of you. and i… i like all of you, jay."

he swallows hard, his chest tightening. "yeah? even the broken ones?"

"especially the hurt ones," you answer ( & corrected ) without hesitation, your eyes locking with his with all the sincerity in the world.

he nods, lips shaking, before he leans in to kiss you once more. this is a softer, slower kiss, like he's trying to say everything he doesn't know how to put into words. when he pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours. his hand wraps around your waist, his fingers digging in a little.

you lay a hand to his chest, tracing little circles over his heart. "you're good, jason," you whisper. "you're more than good."

he shakes his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment as if your words are too much to take in. then, he nuzzles into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “don’t think i know how to do this,” he says quietly, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "like. this. i don't know what you need."

you smile gently, tracing your fingers through his hair once more. "just be here with me," you breathe. "that's all i need."

he grunts in his throat. but he does not argue. instead, he glides closer, holding you against him as if he is afraid you might slip out of his hands. his lips brush the top of your head, & he stays there, his breathing slow & even against your skin.

you can tell he's going out of his way. attempting to do this right ▰ despite not knowing if he knows he's doing it wrong or not, he's learning, kiss by tender kiss, touch by tender touch. he wants you to feel at peace with him( you are ). he wants to take care of you, even though he's terrified that he's going to get it all wrong.

you lean into him, your body against his, & shut your eyes. "you're doing it right," you whisper. "this is perfect. so are you."

his arms wrap tighter around you once more, & for a second, you think you're the only thing that matters to him. his voice is husky when he talks, low & rough. "i'm not perfect, you know."

you kiss his chest, your lips touching the scar on his ribs. "you don't need to be," you say. "just.. be you. that's all i need, jason."

© MINORLYATFAULT 2025

[pilotingdreammsss]

I really enjoyed the Pure Vanilla Yandere snippit we got from you! Could we possibly get some more? My favorite kind of yanderes are the ones who are aware that they're messed up and try to hold themselves back, struggling against what they desperately want to do vs not wanting to hurt the person they care about. That seems like the kind of yandere pv would be if he was one (to me)

I'm glad you enjoyed the snippet! My exans have ended, and I have a few days off right now, been in the mood for some yandere stuff 💗.

Withheld indulgenceೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Warnings: Stalking, Yandere themes, obsessive (restrained) behaviour. Continue at your own risk.

"I felt something could be wrong. Could I come inside?"

You narrow your eyes at the healer stood just outside your house, contemplating slightly whether to let your good 'friend' inside. Alas, these check-ups have gotten almost obscene from him. Even to himself, when you catch him guiltily mumbling to himself about how nosy he can get.

Yes... nosiness. That was it.

Not the pent-up sense of duty, duty to keep you safe, duty to keep you happy, duty to keep you in his arms... all things he'd tried to desperately keep a lid on. You'd be scared, so much he knew, and then you'd flee, hurt, and confused.

You crank open the door for him regardless, which would be your first mistake. Let him in! indulge him so this heavy guilt withers away.

"Sure, do you want anything?"

You, you, you, you!

He bites his tongue.

"Some tea would be nice."

He smiles right back at you, and you turn to walk to the kitchen. Ever the oblivious to the thousands of moral dilemmas, the clashes with what he truly wanted and his sense of righteousness. Goodness, if you saw what he truly desired, you'd never want to gaze at him again.

Pure Vanilla Cookie finds his way to an armchair, one he'd surely sat in hundreds of times before, one you'd lovingly dubbed as his. The steaming cups of tea emerge from the kitchen in your arms, carefully placed on the coffee table in the living room.

Both of you reach for the same cup. Your arms brush against each other, and you giggle heartily. Pure Vanilla Cookie's heart skips a beat, gears turning in his mind. Both of you draw away.

"Sorry, PV! I didn't know that one was yours." You chirp, he nods but can not help himself from smiling. You notice a slight darkness tinting his cheeks - his eyes open slightly - an expression you can not recognize.

The countless nights tailing you when you were unaware, inisitence he be the only healer to touch your wounds... the only one to touch you... The guilt was eating him whole. His unwavering devotion was pushing his friends away, too, as they'd slowly distance themselves from him.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie?"

He flinches, as if brought out of a daze.

"Your tea's going to go cold. "

He grins feverishly, pushing the thoughts away. He knows they'll come back to haunt him later.

"Oh, sorry, I just dazed off a little."

Something tells you otherwise, a deep primal suspicion that he was keeping something from you.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie, you've been acting weird as of late."

Color drains from his face, eyes suddenly blown open wide. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You stare, increasingly worried for your friend. Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes scrunched in worry. It pains him to see you so distressed. Pure Vanilla Cookie's mind scrambles for answers.

"It's nothing, don't worry about me."

You don't believe him, despite the fact that you so desperately want him to be okay. He sees it in your face that you're doubtful.

"Please, if something's bothering you..."

You reach out for his hand, taking his shaky hands into yours. He opens his mouth, and at once almost tells you the truth...

"I've... just been so stressed lately."

Yet lies again.

A/N: Writing PV is hard for me. Sorry for any shaky characterisation!

[quietstormxr]

I literally can’t stop rereading Tomorrow, always tomorrow

It’s the best fic I have ever read

Thank you so so much! I hope you're ready to read Xaden's POV of the events of 'Home' because I'm not going to lie, I may be enjoying myself a little too much writing this one as well.

Hopefully its just as good as 'Tomorrow, Always Tomorrow'! 🤞🏻

Who knew angst could be so much fun to write! *mwaaahahaha*

I'm having such a good time, I thought I'd share a little snippet with y'all! And what can I say Xaddy is down bad for his Blaze.

It’s still definitely a work in progress, but I’ll get it to y’all as soon as I can!

Enjoy! 😊

My eyes narrow as the murmurs of the people around us seem to grow louder and louder, a crescendo to a clamor that is unusual in this palace, until the remaining two guest turn the corner.

Every single noise stops as if the world is now mute of all sounds. Breath freezes in my lungs, my body unable to remember how to breathe. My mind blanks, every single thought flying out of my head. I’m unable to blink, to breathe, to even dare my body to move as the figures draw forward. The only thing I can do is take in the glorious figure in front of me.

If I thought the other women looked beautiful in their finery, they pale in comparison to the absolute goddess of a woman that continues to glide towards us. The green dress fitted to her every curve as if she was made to be a queen, to rule over every single being on the continent. The deep forest green of Tyrrendor contrasting perfectly with her skin and gold glinting in all the right places on her body and in her hair.

It isn’t just the dress; it’s the fire blazing in her kohl rimmed eyes that causes my own to flash. And her lips, the most tantalizing color of red that has every single nerve ending in my body desperate to attach themselves to her.

Gods. I always knew she was beautiful, but this is something completely different. She’s ethereal, a goddess that dares to grace mere mortals with her presence. She’s glowing as if a sprite dancing in the woods, guiding us further into the trees. A siren whose song has my heart desperate to reach out and touch her, danger be damned.

[sfblah]

You should literally never shut up about using AI for anything other than getting the menial, grueling email-work done. Using it for creating ENTIRE WORKS OF ART is a fucking abomination. I wish I could double follow for more fire AI takes tbh

I genuinely think genAI is one of the great evils of our time. Not to the extent that it's going to directly destroy us or anything quite like that, but it's just such a creative black hole. And don't get me wrong, I'm all for making things easier. I am lazy as shit bro.

If generative AI really was just a dinky little toy doing fun stuff for free then I'd have much less of a problem with it. But the reality is it's this gigantic mess of everything that's wrong about how we handle technology under capitalism. It wastes natural resources, it's trained on the creations of others without their consent, and before it does anything genuinely noteworthy it's going to be used to put people out of work for the sake of corporate bottom lines.

It's not about whether AI can draw or write good. Don't get me wrong, it can't, but even if it could, it's still just a sickening attempt to automate and commodify part of what makes us human. A given technology in and of itself is neither good nor evil, but if we can't use it responsibly, we shouldn't have it until we can.

[fafodill]

Do you think Sneep is artistic? What form of media do you think he favors?

I'd argue that creating spells and experimenting with potion is totally an art form. He possesses the yearning to create. Similarly to painting for example, it requires discipline, patience, skills and imagination.

And Severus is someone who appreciates his solitude so in the event of him surviving the war and starting a new hobby (which would mean he's not just mopping somewhere) I'm gonna go ahead and again say : taxidermy. Be it bugs, weird magical creatures he'd put in jars and everything.

Because (to me) this is an art form AND there's something academical to it. Also it's quite precise, requires patience, it's a bit eerie... We know he's got so many jars of creepy stuff in his office, so as he experiments with specific potion ingredients, I could see him be like 'uhm, i'd like to keep a specimen of that one'.

Something about him being a collector of creepiness suits him I think.

I'm having a harder time seeing him paint or draw, but if he did, it would be fucking creepy and gory shit. And I'd love that going for him.

Or... write poetry.

[trainsandkitties]

TW: Suicide

July 4th 1974

"Today marks the year since our lives have been turned upside down. Sidney couldn't handle things anymore it seems. I found him right before writing this entry. He stole Topham's gun and turned it against himself. I figured I'd continue this journal. Charlie doesn't want to see it, neither does anyone else living here. I don't know why I'm not really grieving. I suppose after loosing Percy and Toby right before my eyes I can't feel much anymore. The British military blew up the Vicarstown Bridge and has been guarding the borders, exectuting anyone who attempts escape. They worry that whatever happened to Oliver is a disease that'll spread to the mainland engineers. We know, however, that it's not the case. They simply won't listen. I don't know how to write journals. I'm trying to look for clues in Sidney's entires. And in Gordon's old journal I found when we scouted Tidmouth. The cats weren't home, so the neighbours must have let them out while fleeing. I think I can assume they're gone too. Both the neighbours and the cats. I took some stuff that could be useful. Gordon always liked durable coats so I figured I'd borrow one. Though I'm starting to accept the fact that I'll never get the chance to give it back. Thankfully we found not yet expired medication and bandages, since no matter how much we wash the ones we have, the stains stay. I'm not sure what else to write. I did go out last night to investigate a light coming out of the woods. I was a fool to go out alone, but much like Sid, I don't really value my own life anymore. I stumbled upon a camp of sorts but caught myself in a trap. Whoever made it was creative since it sliced my arm to pieces. Hopefully I won't catch fever and loose it since drawing is the only thing keeping me sane. When we went back today the camp was gone. Although we did spot hoofprints and tracks suggesting the owner has a horse and a carriage. The radiation must have gone down for the animal to live, though I am surprised it managed to pull through the whole year. I think I'll turn in for the night. I'm not on watch this time. Though I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep, knowing there's someone out there trying to get in."