#i know i've reblogged this before but don't know if i ever had the source attached

[mahgyu]

──── In the beginning of your relationship, you learned that Satoru was the type who liked to sleep cuddling. Before meeting you, Satoru used to sleep hugging a pillow, even. It wasn't exactly a necessity for him, but just something he liked and that made him fall asleep faster. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly that type.

Hugs before sleeping? Perfect. Having someone on top of you while trying to sleep? Not so perfect. Fortunately, the two of you reached an agreement about that.

But sometimes, like today, Satoru was extremely clingy. He was sleeping deeply, with his body completely on top of yours, his face buried in the curve of your neck, and a leg trapped between yours.

You loved holding him that way, having the strongest man you had ever known so vulnerable curled up in your arms and sleeping peacefully. Satoru slept heavily when he felt that comfortable, and the deeper he slept, the heavier he became on you. As mentioned, your boyfriend is a strong guy, so now it was almost uncomfortable for you.

You feel this pressure against your chest as he rests on you, completely at ease. You thought that maybe, if you tried hard enough, you could fall asleep, but no, it’s not possible.

"Baby..." You whisper, hoping it will be enough to wake him, but he just keeps snoring, each snore reverberating through your body.

"Toru...?" You try again, a little louder.

"SATORU!" Still nothing. He barely moves a bit in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud snore.

OK. Plan B. If you can't get him off, it's time to slide down. Only after two unsuccessful attempts, you somehow manage to do it, taking a big breath as you escape. You haven't even fully turned to the side when Satoru wakes up, confused and abandoned, with the source of warmth under him gone. He moves his hand aimlessly over the sheets until he feels you.

"Where are you going?" He murmurs sleepily, moving closer to you. "No..." A heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you back to him with ease. There’s a soft hum as he feels your body fit into his.

"Toru?" You call him sweetly. "You know I can't sleep like this, hmm? Come on." You pat his arm, signaling for him to let you go.

Satoru doesn't move. Instead, he just makes some whiny sounds before rubbing his face in your hair.

"Come on, let me go, please?" More pleading.

"Nuh-uh, I don't want to." He whines. "Hug me." He pouts, looking so needy and neglected.

"Love, you're acting like a baby" You complain.

"Because I am. I'm your baby!" He says defiantly. "So, you should treat me like one."

At this point, you know it won't help to try to convince him when he's in this mood. You sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

About five minutes pass in complete silence and then Satoru quietly asks: "You really can't sleep?" The thought of this now bothers him. How could he relax knowing that you're not even comfortable?

"Mhm" You respond as he pulls separates from you.

"OK, I'll give up the hug time for you!" He sighs, rolling away from you dramatically. A few minutes later, he sighs again, a bit louder.

This is his cue to tell you that you should give in and cuddle with him. But you can't, having finally found a position that relaxes all the right places in your body, perfect for falling asleep.

"Are you really going to leave me abandoned?" His voice is so stupidly captivating that it makes you melt. You can't say no to that.

Satoru smiles when he hears the rustling of the sheets, your body moving toward him.

With open arms, he welcomes you back as you rest your head on his chest. "I think I can sleep like this..." You admit as he smiles, making sure you're comfortable but still wrapped up in him.

Hiii, long time no see, uh? 👀This time I brought something cute, a thought I had because I've been feeling so needy and missing our Gojo😞

(It is not well corrected, please ignore any possible mistakes.)

Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome. 🫶🏻💕

⠀

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[olderthannetfic]

In 21 years of writing fanfic, I had never had a comment genuinely make me feel frustrated and exasperated enough to rant. That ended yesterday, with someone getting annoyed by my use of the word 'minor' in a story. Bruh. A character who is a lawyer is going to differentiate between minors and adults because the law treats them very differently. I don't know how it works abroad, but in the United States, the law does factor age into things. A 4 or 14 or 24 year old have different levels of responsibility for their actions/capacity to understand their actions and therefore culpability in a court of law.

"Minors is insulting! Say kids!" This dude is a lawyer. He canonically says "minors" and "adults" in the source material. The character is referring to is a teen, not a child, also. Teens are, depending on the situation, usually not legally treated as adults in a court of law. They are, in criminal cases, treated differently from a child who is a preteen. Again, 4 and 14 are massively different ages cognitively and developmentally.

"I hate when people call kids teens or minors. It's degrading language." Teen means 13 to 19. Minor means under the age of majority, which in the country canon is set in is 18 years of age. 5/7ths of teens are under the age of majority. All of them are teens.

"Making him say minors feels predatory like he's not even acknowledging that's an actual whole-ass child!" He is not calling the 14 year old an adult. He is not preying on them. Legal documents from papers to the law to statements make this difference noted not because all these people wanna bang the 14 year old but because 14 is not an adult.

"Why can't he just say kid like a normal person?" Because kid is not a legal term. Child, defined as under 13 or under 18 depending on the law, does sometimes pop up, but you'll see the word minors a lot all over US law. Everywhere. All the time.

And before someone says, "ugh, the commenter must be an annoying teen/kid/minor", while you'd like to hope so, I saw their fandom tumblr (same name) pop up in a reblog of a post and clicked on the bio.

They're 35, soon to be 36. This isn't a 19 year old arguing teens are kids because seeing how teens act at his college has convinced him these aren't adults (which would be a fair argument; I have seen some silly, silly freshman, living three blocks from the university). This is someone old enough to have a teenager arguing that "minor" and "teen" are somehow morally wrong words to use.

I genuinely do try not to use offensive language unless it's in-character. I don't write everyone as a snarky MCU style everything-is-a-joke you-suck-lmao jackass. But this is in-character. And more than that, this is how people talk every single day in the real world and have for centuries.

This is the only truly can't-get-it-out-of-my-head baffling comment I've ever gotten. My comment luck has always been great, but I guess it had to run out sometime. (Not that I haven't had rude comments. It's just that the rudeness made sense in what the person hated.)

--

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

I'll admit, when I saw the long reply and clicked through to a GO titled blog, I was worried.

Thank you. Thanking for proving that that concern was entirely misplaced.

Thank you for putting in the effort to make a trigger list for the Vulture article. It's a mess under the Neil Gaiman tags right now, and I've seen some truly horrifying takes, I understand your concern completely. Thank you for helping people make an informed choice about how to with the situation.

I'm going to use this ask to try and clarify things a bit for anyone else reading this (not directed at you op!). For those wondering where I stand given my strong links with the Good Omens fandom:

Neil Gaiman's actions and the allegations against him are horrifying, inexcusable, and sickening. I believe the victims, their story is heartbreaking, and I hope they find healing from what he did to them. No one should have to go through that. I hope he faces every single dire consequence, legally, emotionally, professionally, financially and personally, of his actions. It will never make up for what he did to those people.

But this isn't about me, nothing about this situation is about me. What's the right way to process these emotions and deal with this information? What's the right way to interact with his intellectual property? Is there ever a right way?

I don't know. I can only say, stand with the victims even if you can't read about the details of what Gaiman did to them, encourage their voices being heard, and take care of your mental health.

Everyone reading this:

Please look through the trigger warnings list before you read the Vulture article (the original post by @gorgonstaringcontest with the list is here and my reblog is here).

After you have read those, if you decide you are in a place where you can read the article, it's linked here.

It's titled There Is No Safe Word, from Vulture, a cultural subsidiary of the New York Magazine, if you want to find it yourself.

It's well-researched, gives priority to the victims' voices, has interviewed them, and includes first hand accounts.

Other news outlets including BBC have covered the story, most of them use the Vulture article as a source. These have similar triggers, but are less detailed.

It's horrible that it all happened, but I'm glad that when I look up NG's name now, most of the results are about this story and the allegations, unlike after July when almost every major news outlet stayed silent. It's awful that the victims had to say this much and relive this much to be believed by society, and that some people still don't.

Take care of yourselves.

[arcane-vagabond]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Four

Fool's Fare: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Triggers: Serious discussions, Flirting, Language, Falling overboard. I think that's it.

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hey! Long time, no see kind of. I know it's been a HOT minute since I've updated this story, but I'm hoping to update it a little more now that Don't Hang'em Til Noon has basically wrapped. Hanging By a Moment will be out probably sometime in the next month, but we'll see! In the meantime, enjoy! Anyway, it's a little shorter than my usual chapters, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of this story a little bit. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I post my updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Your head was pounding something awful as you came to. The light was blinding as the sun filtered in through the window, the crash of waves echoing up and through the room. You were nestled comfortably against a plush pillow, your body cradled by the soft mattress beneath you. You let out a groan as you moved to sit up, pressing against your temples in the process.

“Well, good morning!”

You whipped your head around to look at the source of the voice, wincing as the sudden movement caused a flash of pain behind your eyes. Natasha sat perched on the bed opposite yours, a grin stretched across her face as she watched you.

“What?” You muttered, squinting your eyes at her in confusion. “What’s going on?”

You didn’t remember much from the night before, just the faint memory of tears and two different feelings of shock mixed in with passing faces and jeers.

“You had a lot to drink last night, Guppy,” she smirked at you, one leg propped up to lean against as she studied you, amusement still shining bright in her eyes. “Came up from the galley to find you asleep in bed with Jake sitting there right next to you. It was a sight for sure.”

You groaned once again as the events of the night before came rushing back to you, hiding your face in your hands. The reveal of your father’s past. The ale the men kept handing you. Bradley’s betrayal. Jake knowing who you were all along. The feel of his hand on your cheek.

You peeked through your fingers to look at the other woman. A smile ghosted on her lips, widening the longer you looked at her.

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” she assured you. “Everyone on this ship has done something they aren’t proud of after too much ale.”

“Nonetheless,” you muttered, dropping your hands back down into your lap, “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m not usually like that.”

“I believe you,” she smiled. “It must have been quite the shock to get all of that information in one go.”

“It was.”

“So,” she hummed, her smile shifting into a conspiratorial smirk. “Why’d you do it?”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Do what?”

“Why’d you sneak on the ship?” She scoffed, leaning back against the wall, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together as she continued to watch you.

“Oh,” you murumured, glancing away and towards the window. It had to be almost noon with how bright it was outside. How long had you been asleep? “I did it to make sure Bradley stayed safe.”

She quirked an eyebrow at you and you sighed, fidgeting with the blanket in your lap.

“He’s the only family I have left,” you whispered, fighting back the tears that threatened to make an appearance. “I would never forgive myself if something happened to him and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Natasha didn’t say anything for a moment, instead moving to stand, walking over towards her wardrobe on the other side of the room. You watched her rummage through, pulling out several different pieces of clothing.

“Here,” she said, tossing some of the pieces to you. You caught them, looking at her in confusion. She chuckled before starting to change. “I figured you’d want a change of clothes. You’ve been wearing your old ones for a while now.”

You eyed the clothes in your lap before moving to change as well. Once the two of you were decent, she headed for the door with you hot on her heels. Her hand hovered over the door knob as she turned to look back at you.

“Guppy?”

“Yes?”

“What you did was really brave.”

“You idiot!” You shrieked, throwing your shoe with all of your might. It launched across the deck, hitting Bradley squarely in the shoulder as he flinched, his hands shooting up to try and block the offending item.

“I know, but why?” He hollered, looking around for any way to escape. Several of the men on deck watched the scene with amusement, some already cackling at the large men cowering in fear as you stalked towards him.

“They all knew, Bradley,” you hissed, punching the meat of his arm once you were close enough. He winced, rubbing the spot lightly as he glanced from you to the rest of the crew.

“Knew what?”

“Knew that I was a girl,” you growled, placing your hands on your hips as you glared at him. He stared at you for a moment, mind struggling to catch up. Another moment passed before a light of realization sparked in his eyes, and he looked around wildly at the crew, some nodding and shrugging.

“They knew?” He breathed, eyes darting to your smaller form hesitantly.

“The whole time, in fact,” you groused, now crossing your arms over your chest. He swallowed thickly, a sheepish smile crawling onto his face.

“Oh,” he chuckled nervously. “Oops.”

You landed a solid punch to his upper arm, causing him to cry out.

“Would you stop that?” He snapped, dodging your next blow and maneuvering so that he held your forearms in his hands. “That hurts, you know.”

“Good!” You shot back, still glaring at him. “You deserve it after everything.”

“It was an honest mistake!” He reasoned. “How was I supposed to know the disguise wouldn’t work?”

“It’s not just about the disguise, Bradley.”

His face went slack at your words, a mixture of regret and guilt flooding his brown eyes as the effect of your words rushed over him. No one on the deck spoke or moved as the two of you stared each other down.

“Alright you lot,” Javy called out from the upper deck. All eyes turned to where he stood, a stern expression on his face as he looked over the crowd. “Get back to work. There’s still lots to do before we dock tomorrow.”

Your eyes darted from him to meet the green ones already on you. Jake had a bemused expression on his face as he watched you while leaning against the rails, a twinkle of something that you couldn’t name shining in his eyes. A smirk tugged on his lips as you stared at him, shooting a wink your way before standing up straight and turning to move back towards the cabins. You felt your cheeks warm, glancing back at Bradley who was already watching you with a knowing look. Your irritation with the man was renewed and you pushed at him with all your might, sending him stumbling back a couple of steps.

“You lied to me.”

“He didn’t want me to tell you, Guppy,” he sighed. “He didn’t want you to know that part of him.”

“So instead,” you seethed, “I had to find out from strangers instead of my own brother.”

He had the good sense to look ashamed, and he looked away from you and out towards the sea. “You shouldn’t have found out about it like that.”

“You’re damn right I shouldn’t have,” you huffed.

He peeked over at you, watching you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to watch him now. Bradley was your brother, and no matter how much of an idiot he could be at times, you still couldn’t stay mad at him for long. The anger drained from your body, replaced with a calm sense of acceptance as you turned to look out at the sea with him.

“Are you hungry?” You asked. He shook his head, grimacing.

“No, not at all.”

You turned to look at him again, worry now etched across your face as the wind whipped your hair about.

“Bradley,” you started, “when was the last time that you ate? You didn’t eat much last night.”

He gave you a noncommital shrug, avoiding your eyes as he answered.

“Guess it’s been a while.”

“Are you not feeling well?” You hummed, reaching over to feel his forehead. He shirked away from you, eyeing you warily.

“I’m fine, Guppy, really.”

“If you aren’t eating, then you aren’t fine,” you scowled. “We’ll have to go see a doctor when we dock.”

“Guppy-”

“No buts,” you said firmly. “We’re going in the morning.”

“You know, you’ve caused not one, but two scenes on my ship now.”

You whirled around to meet a familiar green gaze. Jake’s lips were tugged into his signature smirk as he regarded you. Your cheeks once again warmed under his gaze, and you pursed your lips as you gazed back at the water before you.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled. “It’s fun having a fiery little thing like yourself on board. Keeps things from growing monotonous.”

“I’m glad I could at least serve as your entertainment,” you muttered with a roll of you eyes. He appeared beside you, resting up against the edge of the ship as he continued to watch you. It was just the two of you on the deck, the rest of the crew having moved down into the galley for dinner. You had stayed behind to bask in a rare moment of solitude, but now you welcomed the company.

“It’s better than nothing, I suppose,” he hummed thoughtfully.

“I want to be treated like a regular member of your crew, captain.”

He threw his head back with a hearty laugh, his voice almost echoing off the walls.

“Pretty girl, that is the last thing you want.”

You turned to him with a scowl. It grew deeper as his smirk widened, and you felt the creeping coolness of night crawl across your skin as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

“And why is that?” You demanded, raising your chin at him in defiance. His gaze dropped down for a moment before he locked his gaze back with yours, leaning in closer. He was so close that you could feel his breath tickle the skin of your cheeks, and you sucked in a breath.

“Because,” he drawled, his nose brushing yours. “If you were one of my men, I’d have you walk the plank for even sneaking on here in the first place.”

You snorted, but sobered when his face remained impassive.

“You can’t be serious.”

“As the dead, darlin’.”

He pushed away from you, sauntering over to pick up a board lying off to the side. With a grunt, he lifted it, placing it at the opening where the gangway would normally sit. He secured it down, and once he was sure that it was steady, he turned to you expectantly. You stared at him, unsure of what to do, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You want to be treated as a regular member of the crew, don’t you?” He taunted, the faintest hint of humor still in his eyes. You pursed your lips, throwing your shoulders back as you marched towards him. You eyed the wooden board warily, glancing back at the blond who looked at you expectantly. You turned back around, taking a hesitant step onto the board.

“You’re not going to back out?” He called to you as you took a couple more steps, now standing precariously over the water. You glanced back at him.

“Not on your life, captain,” you smirked. “I want to be a member of this crew.”

The humor was gone from his face as he watched you take another step, his lips pressed into a thin line. You were at the edge now, and you looked back at him with a brow raised in challenge.

“Dammit, alright,” he grumbled, eyes darting between you and the water below. “You’ve proven your point. Just get back over here.”

You smiled triumphantly, carefully maneuvering to turn around and head back when a sudden gust of wind knocked you off your balance. You stumbled back, but there was nothing there to catch you and you caught the briefest glimpse of Jake’s eyes widening in shock as you plummeted to the depths below.

The water was cold, shocking you when you hit the waves. You were suspended for a moment, panic not having set in yet. Swirls of blue blurred your vision, nonexistent shadows reaching up from the deep to grab at you.

You scrambled towards the surface, kicking your legs in a desperate attempt for air. You felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, dragging you upwards until you broke the surface. You sucked in a lungful of air, eyes darting around until they landed on Jake’s form next to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over. You nodded, not entirely sure if you were or not, but knowing that you were still alive. Jake breathed out a sigh of relief as he turned to look back at the ship. You heard the distant sound of shouting, becoming hyper aware of Jake’s arms wrapped around you as the two of you bobbed with the waves.

“Lucky for you,” he continued, “Javy saw you fall and moved the crew to action while I dove in after you.”

You didn’t say anything, starting to shiver as the adrenaline caught up with you. Without thinking, you rested your head against his chest, seeking out the warmth he gave off. You could have sworn his grip tightened, but you heard the sound of one of the life boats hitting the water, and relief sank over you.

Moments later, Reuben was reaching his hands out to grab you, Jake passing you to him as he helped lift you into the boat. You tumbled onto the floor, landing at Mickey’s feet as he scrambled to wrap a blanket around you. Jake landed next to you, waving off Reuben as he began to inspect you more thoroughly.

“I’m fine,” you muttered as he ran his hands over your arms. He ignored you, brow furrowed in silent concentration. When he was sure that you were fine, he nodded at the two other men.

“Let’s get back to the ship.”

Humiliation washed over you as you were once again standing on the main deck. Bradley was front and center, dashing over to you to conduct his own investigation into your well being. You pouted, eyes refusing to leave the floor. You could feel the stares on your drenched form, and you struggled to keep from shivering in the cool night air. A rustling came from behind you, and you jumped when a heavy coat was draped over you. Jake must have shrugged it off before diving in after you because it was still dry as it sat on your shoulders.

You turned, seeing Jake fixing the crew with a glare.

“What are you all staring at?” He asked coldly, leveling each man with a stare. “Get back to work or out of my sight.”

The rest of the crew quickly scrambled to obey, none of them daring to give you another look as Jake rested a hand on your shoulder. You burrowed into the warmth of the leather, inhaling the scent that lingered. Clean linen and a hint of musk. It should have worried you how it set your mind at ease almost instantly.

“Guppy, what were you thinking,” harped Bradley, brushing wet strands of hair out of your face. You stared at him, feeling Jake stiffen behind you. Refusing to meet the brunette’s eyes, you offered him a slight shrug.

“Must have leaned too far over the railing, Roo,” you muttered, your fingers fidgeting with the ends of the coat. “It won’t happen again.”

Bradley didn’t seem convinced, but didn’t say anything as he glanced up at Jake.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jake grumbled, his hand tightening slightly on your shoulder. You watched him gesture towards someone, and Natasha popped up to stand beside you.

“See to it she gets some rest,” he told her, his eyes glancing to you before landing back on her. She nodded, wrapping her arms gently around you as she began to guide you towards the cabins.

“Guppy.”

You stopped, turning back to look at him. His sea-green eyes wandered over you, his jaw flexing like he was mulling over what to say. He locked eyes with you, and you once again caught a flash of swirling blue before it disappeared. You frowned, wondering what you just saw, but Jake shook his head, letting out a sigh.

“Get some sleep. You’ll need it.”

[weaselbeaselpants]

Sometimes it's not just a vibe; the bigger thing is to not divide

((warning: loooooong post with lots of talking sorry))

So recently (like, this day) @starlit-soothsayer made a comment about Sai Scribbles that I was about to honestly agree with because it sounded right to me. But then I happen to see that one of Lily's most prominent victims is deeply against Starlit's reasoning. They (this victim) is adamant that pp:"they not compare a person they don't vibe with [Sai] to a literal PREDATOR/GROOMER [Orchard]".

I get the said victim's take here, both on it's own and especially in relation to the last month/weeks. Recently one of the Lorch critical blogs, Fennec, decided it was a good idea to make a document calling Courtney Peet, Lily's abused sibling, ALSO a groomergooner just like their sister. Fennec's reasoning was shaky at best, vindictive, and stunk of the same kind of narrative Zena and Poppy, also grifters, took about Lily Orchard drama: "Lily's critics are the same kind of awful as her". Keep in mind, the reason I AM invested in the Lorch-drama is I've been worried about Lily Orchard's fans and base for years now. I've been mad at and staying on Lily's case for awhile. Say for Patchworkhearts, Sparky and Poppy herself, I wouldn't exactly call the want to see Lily put away and the push by different types/sorts of people to see that happen as analogous to what I just called Lily - a predator and a deflecting one at that.

I will say that " we ", aka all of the combined critics of Lily Orchard, aren't a fandom of even an exact community and besty buddy-buds, even if we support each other. Courtney, Lily's sibling, got on a lot of different people's cases here on tumblr before she was ultimately mass blocked by Lily's base. I remember. I saw it. Courtney and her story and testimony is a smoking gun, I'd say, in the truth of what kind of a person Lily is, but she's in no way a leader or even liked by all of us. On a personal petty basic-level I disagreed w Courtney over how she violently overstanned Johnny Depp and then over how Courtney talked about their niece and nephews offhandedly. I can't do anything about that, but, I'm allowed to support Courtney as a person without stanning her outright for what I think are her own demons. Courtney is not as bad a person as Lily Orchard because she is not the same kind of person as Lily Orchard.

Courtney is her own kind of a mess. And frankly so is Sai.

Two days ago, following drama from a different Lorch-critical blogger skeleton-bat implicated Sai to be as bad as Lorch and a groomer (no. Sai isn't a groomer. sns also don't do your 'proshippers = groomers' dance on me, Bats), one of the blogs that talking down skeleton-bats unpromptedly said skeleton bats was a joke and a phony for reblogging Palestine-gofundmeblogs. Their words were literally "all Palestinian bloggers are bots and scammers". I disagreed with that, because I know from my sources, lived experiences and someone with Palestinian family that that's simply untrue, to which this person proceeded to splain to me how ebeggers must be scams -Sai agreed with this person.

I am pro-Palestinian justice and aid in getting these people away from Gaza. I've been that way ever since I saw an ISRAELI film strait up say that what Israel is doing is wrong, long before Oct 7th 23'. I don't want to dwell to long on it or the explanations and fact checking for yourself with nonEnglish-speaking fundraisers how legit they are beyond going "look at the way it's written; it looks like begging", but now's not the time. This was my breaking point. I had to block Sai.

Personally I think Sai is a recovering edgeduchess who likes to pick on people first and then can get into the weeds of 'taking down' people if and when it benefits her. That doesn't make her a grifter ala skeleton-bat, Poppy and Zena or Fennec...but I do think that means she's more into the attention of p0wning Lorch, another queer creator, than she is other concerns. I do think she cares about the harm done by Lorch now, but in the beginning and definitely with her own non-Lorch-stan detractors, Sai struck me as being into dunking on Lily for attention. What bugged me about Sai's and that other user's comments was not only that it was unneeded/not relevant to what skeleton-bat is doing; it was that she tried to splain to me, a person who knows gofundme bloggers irl how they 'must be' scams especially in times of crisis. That was insensitive and wrong of her to do even if she doesn't mean anything hurtful by it. There ARE ways to say "hey, don't believe/reblog every fundraiser that comes your way sum might be scams" and there are ways NOT to do that; Sai chose the later option and frankly I see her as pretty racist at the moment by the confidence she chose in it. But obviously, I know some ppl are going to still support Sai, stand by her and that includes the victims of Lorch who are just happy that someone is helping them spread news of Lorch's crimes.

Bigotry is a different problem and a different evil than predation. One can be committed without the other and I'm not interested in splitting hairs over which one is "worse". ALTHOUGH Lily has been caught doing a lot of bigotry of her own, including just now, ON TOP OF being a grooming-predator. For Sai's case I don't think she even compares to Lily Orchard's racism and antisemitism. Sai seems like the kind of person who could learn if she really had to what she said was wrong. Lorch, if she were in Sai's place, would probably demand for days on end that Palestinian donations are inherent scams, that she is the only TRUE ally for both Palestine and then in the next two months delete the post and gaslight her audience into believing she's never said anything about Palestine ever.

Still though, personally, I'm allowed to not like Sai. I can admire her will, I think she's genuinely wanting to help ((she's absolutely a better artist than you, Orchards, stop criticizing Sai's damn art)) but I'm sorry I really don't like her after what happened two days ago. I left the convo because clearly I was making the sitch worse and I'm just not gonna step on Sai's toes about this if that's really how set she and that other blog I was arguing with feel. I'm genuinely hurt; deeply offended. I left. If other people of any other demographic feels differently about Sai I'm not going to get on their case about it. And I think part of the problem is that a lot of people ARE WANTING others to do something about it.

People dislike Sai and the cut of her jib in a serious enough way that they just can't stomach her even when she's on the side of 'good'....that's a really fair thing to do. For comparison, I really love Lindsay Ellis's stuff and agree with much of her takes. This does not mean I think people who say Ellis virtually forgave herself over her canceling are " wrong ". I personally hate being told I only 'stan' Ellis cuz I -"hate poc and Ellis is white so I 'MUST' feel more comfortable with her as a white girl". Not only is that a VERY weighted thing to throw at someone casually for why they must like a reviewer they grew up watching but....wtf!! do you seriously presume everyone who likes Ellis is a white girl? What if I were asian or black and still liked Ellis? What then? Because, if you're at all the kind of person -the kind of Lily Orchard-ish person- to start saying 'you aren't actually bipoc'/'you're a BAD bipoc' over a damn youtube personality that's definitely on you, hon.

I think that was skeleton-bats' problem [one of them] with all this. They can't leave it at Sai being an edgeduchess who used her own disability terms to her advantage and liking- they had to make it a matter of " tolerating Sai = Sai grooming people ". Which was unnecessary, foolish, and deeply insulting.

That's why skeleton-bat, you're also blocked atm alongside Sai. Blocks are created equally on tumblr but you don't need to use them equally. I block serious things like neon@zis and scambots as much as I do people who I know aren't going to listen to me, seem toxic and/or want to fight. I guess that was a blessing since you've been spamming the lily orchard tags with shit on everyone else who so much likes Sai or doesn't agree with you???

Look here- we are a bunch of adult strangers who at most found some comradery with each other over our mutual hurt, pain and anger at what Lily Orchard has done to us or to other people. We are not a fan base or even an anti-fanbase. With those of us who have actually known and hurt by Orchard and her fans, maybe don't insinuate that they're ally is now their 'savior' or that their personal beefemy is the same thing as their abuser.

We're gonna have to agree to disagree on this after awhile and focus on the bigger picture. If someone is here because they honestly want to see Lily Orchard go down because of her predation/gaslighting/grooming/bigotry, that person is your ally in this fight whether you like it or not. Sai is. That's how this works.

If someone says they want to see Lorch go down but really is more preoccupied with her being trans or 'progressive'(phony or not doesn't matter to people who unironically use 'woke' in 2024), wants to see a dumpster fire or is playing devil's advocate for Lily because "her critics are just as bad!! 8U"...enjoy your block too, hon.

We have a serial groomer to catch and make sure she doesn't hurt anyone again.

[goldenrosesrp]

0 . 11 BRUISER

my life blew up in my face and is quite the disaster, but hey at least the doc is pretty. one i've used for my own character, this is a rather basic document template that is six pages long with tables, drawings and various fonts and graphics all made using google docs' funky features.

trying to change the layout of my tumblr too, but it's honestly more difficult to figure out than docs.

this template was inspired by 24H by Seventeen! + ) : document is in the source link! + ) : do not remove my credit! please + ) : please like, reblog, and hit the bell! it's very much appreciated. + ) : to use please enter the doc ( link included in source ) -> ғɪʟᴇ -> ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴘʏ   + ) : my discord is @ᴄᴀᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ#𝟿𝟻𝟿𝟺 but feel free to pm me on tumblr as i'm coming off a break from discord

two things: 1) to add to the doc thief conversation, someone stole my first ever template CALL ME YOURS and damn they took the name too literally. removed my credit, changed out only some of the images and threatened to report me on discord and here before blocking me and kicking me from their server. last time i checked, their tag was 【 𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆 】#7497. i think they stopped using my template, but they blocked me and told everyone i had harassed and defamed them so how would i know. anyways, don't steal from people you care about.

Also, at least in my case, some innocent people were thrown under the bus, accused of stealing when in reality they were misled. don't do this to yourself or people you care about.

2) i said i'd do a giveaway soon, and then i fell off the earth, i'll do a giveaway when i hit 100 followers! so uh, keep your notifs on! thanks a bunch.

[callmeajorallie]

I'm not sure why but ever since the internet was blessed/cursed with "Battle for Nightmare Moon" (Reminder I don't support Hypercrystal) It has consumed my brain to the point I have created an entire au based around it. For the longest time, I've wanted to share it, but at the beginning I was stopped by social awkwardness, followed by the Hypercrystal controversy & not wishing to be associated with him. But now that I've used Tumbler more, I've gotten more comfortable sharing this hyperfixation of mine & all the craziness that comes with it. Starting off, here's the general outline in regards to my take on bfnm (I have yet to figure out a name for my version of bfnm). 1. Time frame - Each season would be written to take place during the same time period as their respective bfdi season counterpart (ex. Season 1 - 2010/2012) 2. Gender - Yes, gender. Why? Well to go with the opposite theme, my dumbass brain decided to default gender-swap each character (With a few exceptions, e.i Winner) lest I decide otherwise. Now why am I mentioning this? Because various other takes on bfnm has the cast keep the gender the same as their bfdi counterpart, which sometime causes people to I guess correct me- but hey, these are open-source objects, nor was there confirmed genders. 3. Cast - You think I just limited myself to the opposites? Ha! Lol no. So before the whole Hyper drama (We'll get to that soon), I had planned to involve the characters from another video of his that were also open-sourced (e.i What if bfdi had new team members) as contestants because, like everything else, I could. 4. Hosts - Bringing up the drama again, before such, I decided to have Hypercrystal as a character, being the host. Why? Because every version of bfnm I saw had a mock announcer box of some sort so I wanted to be unique I guess (idk I'm thinking back like 9 months). Now, this hasn't changed in the slightest, for I have pre-planned too much to be ruined by drama, but also out of spite (The trauma I have prepared for this crystal ball). However, that's not the only crystal I've snatched (e.i the 100kly Object show contestants), recreated the assets & all because these goobers are too silly. Oh yeah, also the number hosts are negative versions of themselves (except x, bro became y).

Anyway with that out of the way & to follow up on it, we have my designed for the other crystals (The photo above is for reference- Also I tried to post these fools in a reblog of an earlier post of mine but the reblog wasn't reblogging so-) Brighter/Darker Crystal

Liarcrystal (4s lookin ahh)

My personal favorite; Spidercrystal

& Finally, Diapercrystal, who for the sake of bfnm my take has been redesigned & renamed to Cringecrystal

Why am I obsessed with these silly objects? I don't know, I just think they're neat & have an entire notebook dedicated to them, on other news & to finish to ramble off, take these character sheets I made for bfnm my take Watery & Steely before the Hyper controversy (I'll probably make new assets for the bfnm but we'll see if I can give enough effort to do that-)

(The gif isn't gifing I think-)

[tozierlvr]

per the last thing i reblogged, i just needed to sit down and write a full response because i'm very used to seeing homophobia and transphobia in this fandom, but never in such a pointed and frankly, aggressive way. so let's get started, may we?

first, to talk about the eddie thing:

the way people have feminized eddie is criticized because eddie, as a character, is not feminine or flamboyant, he's just small. and on this topic- he's also feminized and headcanoned as "the bottom" as you so kindly put it because of the biker shorts he wears in it chapter one. that has always rubbed me the wrong way, because he's not feminine or "slutty" for that, he's fucking thirteen. the costumer dressed him like a thirteen year old boy. but people sexualize it like crazy.

then, saying that people make eddie the "macho top" to avoid that stereotype is wild. i, for one, have never seen eddie portrayed as "macho" and i have scoured tumblr and ao3 for portrayals like this, and i haven't found anything like this. i also don't know why you had to bring up their sexual positions in this argument. why are you fucking mad about this? sounds like someone doesn't understand gay sex dynamics!

now, i just want to know why you think "the worst possible way" for someone to be feminized is by making them bottom and by hc-ing them as a transgender woman?

this comes off as transphobic and homophobic to be honest, and i just don't understand why you felt the need to say this.

also, i thought the headcanons stemmed from people trying not to feed into the feminine eddie headcanons- so how would they stem from richie crying in it chapter two? you're right that this is the proper response to someone you love dying, but i have never, ever seen somebody cite just this as an example of richie being overly emotional. i've actually never seen somebody say that period. but if we're comparing him to eddie, when you look at like, you know, the BOOK, richie probably is the more emotional one.

but none of this matters anyway, because these headcanons don't stem from either of those things. sometimes, people just like headcanoning a character as a certain thing because they either see coding that way or maybe they just see it for some reason. a lot of people point to the werewolf imagery and plotline as an allegory for richie maybe being transgender. and to me, that makes a lot of sense. but you don't have to think that, and it's okay if you don't. but saying that the headcanon is being forced upon the fandom? that's just weird.

moving on:

there is not bisexual evidence for richie tozier in the novel, or even really gay coding. :)

i also know that you haven't read the book, so i don't know what source material you're referring to.

the only canon sexuality we have for richie tozier is straight (book) and gay (movies). obviously, you can headcanon him as bi. there's nothing wrong with that. but interpreting the character richie tozier from specifically it chapter two as bisexual IS gay erasure. because he is not bi. he is gay. in that adaptation.

also, you sound so weird saying "ignoring the complexity of his character" in regards to people hc-ing him as gay. being a gay kid raised in the 50s/80s (depending on version) is incredibly fucking complex. i don't know what you're talking about here. this argument is stupid.

i hope you do some more delving into queer identity before you come back to tumblr, dude. maybe a break will do you good.

[stormblessed95]

Thank you so much for answering me Storm!

When I sent that ask I had just come from twitter where some ARMYs where claiming that dropping Muse and Who to support Yoongi is what Jimin would want, that his album has been out for a month already so it not a big deal to move on.

I saw you reblog that post about Jimin standing with Yoongi, along with not seeing you post much about the hate Jimin has been getting lately, and my frustration towards those that are dropping Jimin to support Yoongi may have been projected on to you.

I don't expect you to be a "content creator", I'm very grateful for the time and energy you give to answer our questions and make thoughtful posts about Jikook and BTS. I have seen you post asks with reporting links before, so I was under the assumption that was something you allowed on your blog (especially for serious issues). If that has changed (which is fine! some people want their blogs/accounts/fandom spaces to be free of reports and anti discussion), I'm sorry for not knowing or not remembering!

It was not at all my intention to victimize Jimin, as I said people have resorted to saying things like "Jimin would want us to do this" and thus using Jimin's loving friendship with Yoongi as a way to justify not supporting Jimin anymore (or as much).

I have noticed that you hadn't posted about Yoongi! I was actually wondering if you were doing alright seeing as he is also your bias. I had even wanted to ask you if you knew some good sources to get information on what was happening, because there was a lot of misinformation and I was genuinely scared for Yoongi.

Seeing as this was a misunderstanding on my part, I don't wish to unfollow you if that's okay? Chapter Two and this recent year has made finding actual ARMYs who support ALL SEVEN members hard. I'm sorry if my ask made you uncomfortable in any way, and again hope you and your loved ones are happy and healthy 💜💜

I know we are all under the assumptions at times that our personal moral panic is unique and unprecedented.... But I promise that it's not, and it's important to remember that too 💜

Like everyone else, I'm not really okay with seeing all the hate and slander that's been happening lately. I want to cry if I think about it too long or hard.

To make things a little more clear, if you send me "what are your thoughts on *insert essay length ask or paragraph length ask over hate x member is experiencing*" I probably won't answer it. I'm not sure what it is I'm expected to say in response? Yeah, it fucking sucks. And I can say "report and block silently, do not engage" until I'm blue in the face, but that's not what those asks actually want. They want my rage, for me to be emotional about it. I'm not inclined to perform that for anyone here. I follow my own advice.

Which leads me to, the asks I'll post are from reporting links. If you see hate, and you want to ask me to help spread the word to report and block an account or ask for help in the best way to go about reporting something, please send it in and I will post it and/or give advice over it. And that is what you've seen me post here before. That is how it will stay

As for following me or not, you do you boo. I'm not here for the numbers or the followers. I didn't ask for anyone to be here actually 😅 the fact that the follower count ever made it anywhere over 20 is something I'm baffled at constantly. I've been on Tumblr for years solely as a lurker lmao so I still sometimes don't know how I ended up here... I blame Jikook. 🙃😂

And honestly though. Thank you for coming back and walking your first statement back and apologizing. Almost no one here has ever really done that before, so it's greatly appreciated.

Have a good day 💜

[stevehairingtit]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @geddyqueer for the tag~

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 24

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 72,539, which kind of makes me want to go add a word to something

3. What fandoms do you write for? Primarily Stranger Things, though I have some 911 stuff both published and planned

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Come and Turn the Tide (My "Achy Breaky Heart." My "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles).")

Temperature Running High

A Kind of Magic (My lone Shadowhunters semi-hit)

Living Tissue, Warm Flesh

Slide It In

5. Do you respond to comments? Sometimes with significant delay, but yes

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? If we are just looking at the individual fic, I wrote a couple of episode codas during the Malec break-up in Shadowhunters that were fairly bleak. But I've never really written angst that isn't resolved by a follow-up fic or by the source material. I'm delicate. Ending author's notes don't count.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? They are mostly pretty mushy! Can take your pick.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope

9. Do you write smut? Yeah, it's probably my primary vocation lmao. Though a pretty recent one! I had only written it twice ever before I started writing steddie.

10. Do you write crossovers? No, and I feel like this is not as common as it was when, like, LJ and ff dot net were the primary fandom sites.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I am aware of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Stucky........

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? lmao. I'm a quitter, so anything I start and don't finish in a sitting is at risk for this. My white whale, gogoboysteve, is the most fleshed out of my WIPs that I'm not sure I'll ever get all the way through.

16. What are your writing strengths? I am very funny. This is obviously good for comedy writing, which is my wheelhouse, but I think more dramatic writing is still set-up and punchline, even if the punchline isn't played for laughs.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? You know how pointing out your insecurities draws attention to them? I started listing stuff, decided that I don't want you noticing my eyebrows are more cousins than twins, and deleted it. I will say I think I am something of a one trick pony and comedy is also a bit of a crutch for me and nvm, Kam reblogged a post about finding your form as a writer, and I am not a one trick pony, I have just been called to write silly porn. My weaknesses are varied sentence structure and physical description.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I haven't done it, but I think it is fine as long as you are not using a translation software to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Maximum Ride

20. Favorite fics you've written? I've said it before, but right now Path to the Rainbow's End because I finished it lmao. And I like the end product! The Floor of Heaven's Lain is also a favorite, I think the structure is fun and interesting, and I could read it immediately after I wrote it without picking it to pieces.

Tagging @postmodernau @cuips-not-cute @jamiethegardener55 @mustlovesteve

[sophieinwonderland]

I find myself thinking again on the r/systemscringe post announcing the targeting of public figures. Some of the points I've already responded to. Others are vague enough to not bother with. They think I'm spreading "misinformation" for providing peer-reviewed academic sources that support endogenic plurality. I think they're spreading misinformation for trying to disprove RAMCOA by relying on an ableist Satanist apologist group that doesn't believe dissociative identity disorder is real and wants to throw trauma survivors under the bus in their effort to debunk the Satanic Panic.

(Nothing against Satanism overall. I just don't think Doug Mesner should be treated as a reliable source on psychology.)

It's subjective.

There's little sense in arguing their spin of the facts, as absurd as it may be.

But then, other things aren't subjective. They aren't half-truths. They're just made-up lies.

Like this...

promoted the review-bombing of McLean Hospital

This is something I'm pretty confident never happened.

I looked through some of my old posts about it just to see if I might have reblogged someone calling to review bomb them and couldn't.

I also checked this petition I posted and found nothing about encouraging people to leave bad reviews here:

I suppose it's not impossible that I reblogged something that slipped through the cracks and I forgot about. I mean, this was drama from a year ago they decided to resurrect and if they scoured my blog for reasons to justify attacking me and putting me on their hit list, maybe they found something I forgot.

But I REALLY don't think so.

I don't think I would have pushed for anything like that at the time because, by the time I found about and responded to the harmful video, McLean had already taken steps to remove it from their official Youtube. I had to watch it through a mirror. In my mind, that was admittance that they messed up.

It seems to me that u/Goat_Alter and the other mods of the hate subreddit just decided to accuse anyone who criticized the video and wanted it removed of review bombing. Something which is obviously absurd.

Which makes me wonder then about the other people they accused.

Like I've said before, I've never watched DissociaDID, but I figured maybe other people in the system community did. Does anyone know if DissociaDID ever actually encouraged people to leave false reviews about McLean Hospital because of the video, or are the r/systemscringe mods lying about them too?

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball AF Lore

Last night I reblogged a thing about Xicor, the imaginary villain of Dragon Ball AF, the imaginary sequel to Dragon Ball GT. There were some cool responses to this, but I didn't want to reblog the entire post all over again, so I thought I'd carry the discussion over here.

@brotoman-exe : #so do they ever explain why Goku cheats on his wife in this set up?#(to be clear Im guessing it was likely a stolen dna Superman 4 thing just having fun)

My understanding was that the West Supreme Kai faked her death and then came back as a bad guy. She somehow obtained a DNA sample from Goku and used it to impregnate herself? The end result being that Xicor is the biological son of Goku and the West Supreme Kai, even though Goku himself had no idea of any of this.

Of course, it's impossible to cite sources on any of this, since I'm talking about made-up details from a made-up show. It's entirely possible that there are other versions of the AF legend where Goku cheated on his wife like a jerk.

What I always wanted to know was how the West Supreme Kai survived the fight with Kid Buu five million years ago, and why she laid low for so long.

But now that you've brought up Superman IV, I can't stop thinking about the raw chicken thigh Lex stuffed in that little lockbox. This is my new DBAF personal canon.

@scarabats123: #As someone who wasn't alive in 1994#let me tell you Xicor and AF was THRIVING in the 2000s up into the early 2010s#hell even now some people make nostalgic fanart of it#Everyone knew about Xicor and Evil Goku and that blue bald dude

It really is bizarre how long the AF mythos has persisted. I think Dragon Ball Super was the final nail in the coffin for any true believers that were still left, but by the time DBS came out AF had already established itself as this weird little thing in its own right. It's like Bigfoot. I think everyone knows it's not real and doesn't make a lot of sense, but the idea is too much fun to discard completely.

@mozillavulpix: definitely think there's a lot of information here that's wrong, but I wasn't in the fandom in the 1990s to confirm any of it But the one big thing is...I'm pretty sure 'Dragon Ball AF' was originally supposed to stand for 'April Fools'. Like at one point someone somewhere started the name just because it'd be hilarious to trick people into believing something with a name so obviously-fake if you were paying attention. But when people started believing it they came up with their own theories on what it meant. kanzenshuu also says the rumours probably only started around 2002-2003 https://www.kanzenshuu.com/rumor/dragon-ball-af/

There were some factual errors, but the one that stood out to me was the notion of Toyotaro creating Towa and Mira, since I'd always heard Toriyama created her for Dragon Ball Online. And I've heard of the Goku Black/Xicor parallels before, but I'm pretty sure that's more of a coincidence than anything else.

I also found the 1990s to be a little too early for AF rumors to really get started, so I went back to that Kanzenshuu article you linked to and read it again just to check. This time, I ran across the link to the message board discussion about the "SSJ5 Goku" image that seems to have started it all.

Apparently, this was all discovered back in 2012, but I don't think I ever heard about this until now. Someone found the "AF Goku" image in an issue of the magazine Hobby Consolas, cover dated May 1999.

It looks like the magazine just published reader-submitted fan art, and this particular one was credited to David Montiel Franco of Alicante, Spain. Forums member Raykugan published this information in February 2012, and then Derek Padula contacted the artist and published his findings on his blog "Dao of Dragon Ball".

David Montiel Franco, as it turns out, has his own blog, af-dragonball.blogspot.com, where he appears to be promoting his Dragon Ball AF fancomics. And apparently, the guy in the image is not Super Saiyan 5 Goku at all, but an OC named Tablos.

So it appears that the true original DBAF was a fanwork created by Franco prior to May 1999. Everyone else was building onto his creation whether they knew it or not. The alternative is that Franco is stealing the credit from the true artist, but that seems like a weird thing to still be holding onto after all these years. I mean, if he wanted clout, you'd think he'd do more self-promotion than this. By now, everyone would have heard of his claims to be the creator of AF. So I think he might be the real deal.

Anyway, it definitely ties DBAF to the year 1999, although I have a feeling the rumors didn't really pick up steam until 2002 or so, as U.S. fans became aware of a sequel series to Z and wondered what might follow after that. There may have been rumors in other countries that got earlier access to GT, and there were surely American fans in the 90's who knew more about GT before it was localized. But at least the concept of AF was around in the 90's, even if it was the tail end of the 90's, and even if it was very obscure.

But that's AF in general, not Xicor. I get the sense that Vintagegeekculture seemed to conflate Tablos with Xicor, and that's probably an understandable mistake to make, since Xicor was probably invented as a response to what was thought to be SSJ5 Goku. So Xicor must have come later, but how much later?

I guess what bugs me is that there ought to be someone who would claim credit for the character, the way Franco claimed to be the artist of the DBAF image. It's kind of fascinating how Xicor is out there and no one's trying to act like it was their idea.

[epersonae]

I wrote this originally as a reblog of something else, but after letting it sit in drafts for a while realized it needed to be its own thing. (but do go read that post, it was what got me thinking in this specific direction) I have not edited it much, other than to remove some intro about the kind of shitty day(s) I was having in my non-online life that were part of why I wrote something and then sat on it.

I have been thinking about

Don't like, don't read

(I saw this with rainbow text, and I asked how the fuck to do that, and frankly I don't have that level of patience, so just imagine it rainbow I guess)

And..........

Sure? We're all just here to have a good time or whatever, and Just Like Stuff, and it's exhausting being a hater (but also [stares at people I know who I've seen say all that and who are also ABSOLUTELY haters in private])

But I want something more nuanced than that. I mean that as both:

a writer of things I know other people have taken issue with (including, I remembered today, something that I heard secondhand about, in addition to the vagueblogging I've mentioned in an earlier post about my older fic)

and a reader/art appreciator who has some issues with things I've tried to read and art I've seen.

I don't what it is or how it works or how to get from here to there. I don't even really know how to do this with people I'm close to! (with the exception of having been a thoroughly obnoxious beta constantly saying "make me believe this could even happen", or pointing out conflicts with canon or whatever) I tend to silently nope out and then change my opinion of the person without ever telling them, because yeah, I'm horrifically conflict averse.

Which is why this might sit in my drafts for a long time.

And then, outside of friendships, and Difficult Conversations or whatever

I don't like pile-ons. I don't like a couple of people trying to articulate what bugs them about a piece of writing, and maybe being awkward or clumsy about it, and immediately getting drowned out by "you're being mean to my friends". (and I say that as someone who has had friends' writing receive this sort of critique! Multiple friends!) Maybe the immediate answer is, yes, the back button, but it has to be possible to dissect what's bothering you about a piece of writing (or a trope, or a ship) without it being negativity or an attack.

Here, I'll go first, because these are two things in OFMD fic that bug me endlessly, that writers I like have written, and I think they exhibit a subversion of the source material that is counter to the actual themes of the show.

Note: since I wrote all of this, I have written a little bit about my sort of complicated feelings about a fic that imho is an original novel in a trenchcoat, a sort of fic lacroix despite being very good. these examples are in the same vein as that.

Inevitable fucking disclaimer: I don't think people are wrong or bad for doing these things, I'm not going to try to make anybody stop, I practice don't like don't read (and I have some exceptions that I've enjoyed despite it being something I don't like generally)

Enemies to lovers: the whole point of Ed and Stede is that they click perfectly and immediately. They like each other! From the very first minute it's friendship and mutual admiration and delight and attraction. Enemies to lovers is a cliche that belongs to a different story entirely. I wish people would think more before jumping to that trope. (I've had an AU in my head for months that I absolutely cannot write until I solve this problem from the AU's source material) It's an interesting question to me, actually, why it seems to be so easy to write characters who don't like each other and then somehow fall in love, when the source material shows them liking each other SO MUCH right away.

Younger than middle aged: again, the whole point is that they are changing their lives, that their midlife crises brings them to the point where they can find love. I think it's a djenks Themes and Motifs thing, to have a story about getting to this point in your life and really looking at it and going "am I where I need to be?" Also it's incredibly unique and special to me after the last few years of my own rolling midlife crisis. (petty thought that I have sometimes: it is a failure of imagination about or knowledge of actual middle-aged people) Tbh, this goes double for age difference, I will nope out of that even faster than both of them being young.

And I think there's something about being able to not like something and still not be a dick about it, to know enough about what you do like to look at something and say "this doesn't work for me and here's why", to engage thoughtfully and critically (and yeah occasionally in public) while still having respect for the other person.

I am thinking also of @emi--rose and @frommybookbook and music, and their efforts to find kpop and Taylor Swift, respectively, that I might enjoy, because I don't like most of either, and I think this thing we've been doing is helping all three of us understand more about what we all do and don't like.

[pausing to think]

It occurs to me, also, that I spent a lot of time griping while editing for the benefit of all the broken hearts, about having to go back and do a lot of set up/rewriting to make some of what happens in that read plausibly. And I was soooooo bitchy about it and also that critique was all correct and it made the story stronger even aside from making it more "canonical", whatever the fuck that means in that particular setting.

And that was in the particular creative intimacy setting of working with a beta, which is different, admittedly, from random critique on the open internet.

But then I spent a while, back in the day, immersed in the TAZ questions of "is Lucretia a lesbian?" and "can Magnus ever love again?" and I wrote my rarepair (and associated polycule shipping) very much from my id, and a certain amount of "you can't tell me that didn't happen" that was based on overidentification and personal experience, but there were definitely people who were pretty publicly "ew" about it, and I had to think through my position, and both decide what felt true about and also decide to write from my weird heart, but not blindly.

Idk, I've written all of this and I'm just landing on

I think introspection is nice.

I think it's good to do, I think it's worth thinking about what you like and don't like, and maybe where that comes from, and not in a puriteen way but with sincerity and curiosity. I would like to support and encourage that spirit of artistic introspection.

[posts-i-saw-on-wikipedia]

positive things list:

after years of trying I've FINALLY found a good mug cake recipe and I'm gonna make it later today (it's this one in case you'd like to try it: https://celebratingsweets.com/brownie-in-a-mug/#recipe)

i had a years-long depressive episode and just today I was reading some of the stuff I used to write in my diary back then and i realized i don't really feel like that anymore. not that strongly anyways. it was so slow and gradual that on the day to day it felt like nothing ever really changed but comparing where i am today to where i was a year ago- it's different.

got into a college class that fills up really quick that I really wanna take before I graduate 💪

someone i follow on Tumblr does daily updates about good things that happen in their life and December of 2023 they were posting that they were gonna go on a date soon and they were really nervous and not expecting it to go super well. and then they posted "holy shit i just had a six hour first date". and now this December they're moving in together and teasing each other about getting married. it's been really cute to see this person be so happy, cause I got the sense that last year finding something positive to post about was a lot harder for them than it is this year. they deserve so much happiness and I'm really glad they're getting it

saw a video of a dormouse snoring (VERY CUTE) https://www.tumblr.com/tikkety-tok/644758122875994112?source=share

bumblebee butt photo (cute) https://www.tumblr.com/elle-rosewater/771797868542623744?source=share

frog necklace (sounds weird just trust me it's cute) https://www.tumblr.com/pincspace/629615549333274624/pincspace-moche-necklace-with-gold-beads-in-the?source=share

turtle video!! https://www.tumblr.com/platypusinplaid/184256969508/theinfiknight-mother-entropy?source=share

some nice photos of sweden. it looks so nice there I'd love to visit https://www.tumblr.com/michaelnordeman/771303343482109952?source=share

beaver carrying carrots video (did you know beavers can walk on two legs???? I did not know that beavers can walk on two legs) https://www.tumblr.com/gaycism/631645210545455104?source=share

Okay, that's a lot, gimme a second

Fork yea i love good recipes! I'm a bit of a cook myself, y'know? Please update me how it turned out!

Damn that's amazing! I hope it'll be a good time for you, with lots of amazing stuff to learn, lots of new friends to find, and an overall fun time!

Ok this one actually made me tear up a little. Due to trauma in my past i've been struggling a lot with dating and being in relationships, so hearing about someone who find love despite having a hard time actually means a lot to me. I'm glad that they found love, i'm glad that you told me this, and i deeply hope that that person (and you, as well) finds happiness.

Okay i'll respond to the links in a reblog, because i fear that the tumblr app will act up and throw me out while i respond to this

But thank you so much for your ask <3

[menlove]

hi, im asking you since you seem to be knowledgeable :) i've seen some posts from a few years ago that claim paul is aware of mclennon content and has even consumed it. it seems unlikely, but anything can happen i guess. do you have any insight on where this rumor came from? x

screaming bc I do know the exact answer to this ahdgshshs

from anything I've ever been able to find (& I'll admit I have just blindly repeated it too but mostly bc these are both things I don't see as out of the realm of possibility so I was just like yeah sure I suppose & then googled later and went "ah.") it stems from this answer on quora on if paul knows what mclennon is:

so she's saying there's Two Instances of him knowing, one being him suggesting a director watch fanvideos of him and john for the Vibe, and then one of him sending a fansite a note saying to make sure they're saying they're fiction but calling them "beautiful". in the comments she was asked for a source and basically just said there's so many fansites she can't remember which one

and I haven't really been able to find anything further on either one of these incidents? she doesn't seem to be a huge mclennon shipper, so I don't know that she's necessarily making it up, but she seems to be someone who frequented a lot of earlier internet forums. so either a) her source is Legit but lost to time, b) her source was a mclennon fan making shit up for fun & she didn't realize that, or c) she mixed up Several sources from Several forums through a sort of game of telephone

whatever the answer is, there's no solid source on this one that I've been able to find! if anyone has anything more concrete feel free to reblog and add it! I've definitely been wrong before lol (like the john wanting to name his kid paris thing 💀)

edit: thank u @beatlesbabytrapping for ur service the director one is at least real! sort of. doesn't say anything about it being mclennon videos, just videos of him and john, but we all know he had to have run across mclennon ones with that search lmao