#i’m sorry i haven’t posted i know i know

[euthymiya]

greens — ft. wriothesley

includes: hints at wrio’s past and his mother that he reflects on ; established relationship ; gender neutral reader ; reader force feeds him veggies because i hc he hates them ; based kind of on this post

“Wriothesley,” you warn. He pauses, glancing at you cautiously at your tone.

“You sound…not happy,” he points out.

You raise a brow, unimpressed and unamused as you say, “Very astute observation.”

“What’d I do this time?” He pouts, slumping in his chair as he tries to sift through his brain for what he’s possibly done. He doesn’t have to think for too long, though—you answer for him instantly.

He almost wishes you never did.

“Finish your vegetables, Wriothesley,” you scold firmly, “you’re not leaving this table until you finish your greens—they’re good for you.”

Finish your vegetables, Wriothesley.

They’re good for you.

You’re not leaving this table until you finish.

There’s something eerily familiar about the words. He thinks he may have swallowed his vision—a chill seeps along his esophagus as he swallows thickly, the frost mixing with his blood as it runs cold and makes him stiffen. There’s ice in his veins. Frigid, harsh, cruel, and sharp.

He plays with his fork, not meeting your stare as he moves the leftover on dinner his plate around with a dazed look.

“Not hungry,” he mutters. “I’m full.”

“You never finish your vegetables,” you huff, “honestly, Wrio, you’re an adult, you know. Don’t be difficult about eating healthy.”

Everything you say sounds devastatingly familiar. His mother’s words take shape in your voice, molding in your throat and waltzing past your lips to haunt him. It’s your voice, sure, but they’re her words. Something about it makes him feel young again—but it’s not rooted in nostalgia. Not fond memories or amusing moments he can look back at and smile.

They taunt him, he thinks. The sweet smile and kind eyes, the firm tone and gentle strictness. His mother’s love was easy to believe. So painfully simple, it felt like she did it just as she breathed. Inhaling his presence and exhaling her care for him in a steady rhythm between expansion and contraction in her lungs.

Eat your vegetables, Wriothesley, she’d tell him. If you want to grow big and strong, you have to eat them.

He wonders now, as he stares at the remnants of dinner, if she’d ever cared for his growth because she cherished his wellbeing. If the thought of him being older, stronger, and maybe even wiser was something she was proud of. (He knows the answer. Deep, in the gaping hole of his chest, the knife twists into the raw edges of a still-healing wound.

He knows. Better than anyone, he knows she never cared. Not for anything other than growing him big and desirable so she could sell him off, offer him up like she saw him as though he was marketable. Like an animal, maybe. An item. A luxury, even.

But not a child. He was never a child in her eyes—simply always just a person who wasn’t grown yet.)

“Hey,” you snap your fingers in front of his face, pulling him out of his daze. Something in your face is softer now, flooded with concern, dripping with anxiety. “You okay?”

“Sorry,” he blinks, staring past your head and at the wall. His voice is soft and barely-there as he all but whispers, “just haven’t heard that in a while. I guess some things never change, huh? I was a handful then, and now, too.”

It’s a poor attempt at a joke. You see right through it—you always do. Some form of recognition and realization and maybe even heartbreak flashes in your eyes, and he hates it. Hates that he can never escape something as mundane as dinner being tainted with demons that make everything unholy. Past demons that shape shift into his present. His future.

His everything.

They reach to grab him, to drag him back into that dark, unforgiving hole in his mind where he can’t climb out. Can’t reach for any sort of leverage to pull himself out and find the light. But just before they can reach out and touch him, you get to him first—one hand grabbing his across the table as you smile softly.

“Well, there’s only one way to handle a stubborn child who doesn’t eat his vegetables.”

“What? Punish me?” He raises a brow. You pretend you don’t hear the underlying bitterness in his tone.

Instead, you reach your fork across the table and onto his plate, stabbing at the broccoli head left untouched before bringing it up to his lips and waving the fork in circular motions.

He scrunches his brows in distaste. You smile and fight back a giggle as you sing, “here comes the plane! Ready for landing in three, two, one…”

“Are you serious?” He snorts, equal parts amused and equal parts in disbelief.

You huff, glaring. “The plan is waiting to land, y’know.”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat, letting you push the broccoli past his lips and into his mouth. He grumbles, chewing against his will as you watch him intently. “This is gross.”

“Well, one day, when you’re big and strong, you’ll thank me.”

“I’m already big and strong,” he insists, looking a little dramatically wounded.

“Bigger and stronger,” you correct. “You’ll thank me eventually.”

He already has plenty to thank you for, he thinks, eyes trained on you as the light casts over your features like heaven resides in your skin. But adding one more thing to the list is more than okay.

Better than okay, in fact.

So umm….idk. I’m sad about him :( also it’s 2 am and I’m sleepy and this is not proof read I’m sorry. It could be written better but I’m tiredddf

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: quarantine

I needed fluff, so I wrote some. Perhaps a little messy, but definitely fluffy, post-Firewalker. They're in quarantine and Scully is bored. Mulder isn't.

She expected him to get restless and irritable before the end of their first day in quarantine. It’s been five days now, and although he’s been pacing a lot and at times talked for fifteen minutes straight about random cryptids she’d never heard about before, he does seem to be handling this a lot better than she is. Most of the time, he seems almost content.

She can’t say the same about herself. There’s simply nothing to do and she’s bored out of her mind. Standing still gives her too much time to think, and that’s the last thing she wants to be doing right now.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, and when she looks up at him from her seat on her uncomfortable chair and meets his eyes across the tiny table they use for their meals, the corners of his mouth are twitching with a barely held-back grin.

“No,” she admits. “Sorry. What were you saying? Something about… banjos?”

“Banshees,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She sighs.

“Come on.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table. “You can talk to me. There’s… actually not much else to do here.”

“Yeah.” She leans back with another sigh. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“You’re bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well.” He shrugs. “Yeah. Of course I’m bored. We have nothing to do and nowhere to go and there’s absolutely nothing good on TV.”

“And we’re gonna be stuck here for several more weeks,” she points out, pushing herself up out of her chair to walk over to their single window. It’s completely dark outside. Time has lost all meaning. It could be late evening. It could be past midnight. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

“It’s not so bad,” he says, and she twirls around to him.

“Mulder, there is nothing to do here. Nothing.”

“So we’ll come up with something,” he suggests, getting up and making his way over to her. He stands so close she has to lean her head all the way back to look up at him. She’s in her socks and he’s so tall. And he’s smiling. Something aches deep in her gut.

“Like what?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and seems to think about it.

He’s so beautiful it hurts her heart. Being stuck here is bad enough. Being stuck here with him is torture. Ever since she came back, he’s been so attentive, so careful with her. She can feel him looking at her when he thinks she won’t notice. And he’s always there. All the time. As if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again. And she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows he wore her necklace when she was missing.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says at last, and that makes her laugh out loud.

“We can’t,” she reminds him. “We literally can’t, Mulder.”

“Sure we can.”

He takes her hand and places it in the crook of his elbow, eyes sparkling as he grins at her widely.

“What are you—” She shakes her head. “What are we doing?”

“I told you,” he says, “We’re going for a walk.” And then he’s leading her across the small room into the tiny hallway separating their bedrooms, where he starts walking them up and down the same few feet of space. She can’t help it, she dissolves into a fit of giggles after the third turn.

“Nice weather we’re having today, don’t you think?” he says, and she holds his arm with both hands and leans into his side, the sensation of laughter unfamiliar in her chest.

“You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told. Many times. By you, actually.”

“In the best way. I like it.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding pleased, and a little surprised. “I haven’t heard that before.”

She stops them in their tracks and steps in front of him. “You know I mean it like that every time, right?” she says. “If I ever—”

“I know, Scully,” he promises, and the smile in his voice convinces her that he’s telling the truth.

“Good. Okay.”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “I’ve been told the view doesn’t change at all the further you go. Might be worth exploring.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The words slip out before she can stop them, and the happiness in her voice makes her blush. She didn’t mean to reveal that much.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I know the feeling.”

She lowers her eyes and doesn’t know what to say. It’s a new problem. They’ve always had an easy back and forth, even their arguments often comforting in a way she never properly understood. Suddenly, everything seems filled with too much meaning. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on her part. It’s just that she remembers the look in his eyes when he visited her in the hospital after she woke up.

“Hey, Scully?”

She nods, reluctantly lifting her head when he puts two fingers under her chin. “What is it?”

“I just want you to know…” He pauses for a second. “I just want you to know that I’d rather be in here, bored out of my mind with you, than healthy and having fun out there without you.”

“I, um.” She frantically searches for something to say, but he’s standing here, his fingers caressing her cheek now, and he is so warm and smells so good, and she simply can’t remember how language works for the moment.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I understand. I… guess I feel the same way.”

“Oh.” There’s something so hopeful in his expression, and she gives him the tiniest nod, hoping he’ll understand.

And he does, of course he does.

She can’t remember any kiss ever feeling like this. His lips just rest against hers, lingering, unmoving, and she feels it all the way down to her toes. Her hands come up to cup his elbows and he takes her face firmly between his large, soft hands, and by the time he pulls back, the world has rearranged itself around them.

“Was that okay?” he asks, and she puts one palm over his rapidly beating heart.

“I think I just thought of a few things we can do while we’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah?” He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. “Like what?”

She rises up onto her toes to kiss him again, and finds that another three weeks of this doesn’t sound quite so bad anymore.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 2: Caught on Camera

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Fandom: Women's basketball

Paring: Paige Bueckers x ! Photographer fem reader

Summary: is this thing still on?... I hope not....

Welcome to chapter 2 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸... if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know!

Avoidance was becoming a bad habit of mine. After the incident with Paige and my shattered camera turned into an internet meme, I couldn’t bring myself to face her—or the team, for that matter. Every social media platform I opened featured the clip: Paige’s epic block, the ball ricocheting, and the destruction of my beloved camera. People had even started adding exaggerated sound effects and captions like, "When life hits you hard…literally."

To make matters worse, Paige addressed the incident during a post-game interview, her sheepish smile making me squirm every time I replayed it in my mind.

“It was an accident,” she had said, laughing softly. “I feel really bad about it. Y/N’s an amazing photographer, and I hope I haven’t scared her off for good.”

Her words made my chest ache, but I still avoided the team practices. I stuck to photographing games with my new camera, keeping my distance from the players—especially Paige.

That’s where KK came in.

“Y/N, you can’t avoid us forever,” KK said, sliding into the seat beside me in class one afternoon. Her tone was light, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes that I didn’t trust.

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” I replied defensively, keeping my gaze on my notes.

“Right,” KK said with a smirk. “That’s why you haven’t shown up to practice all week.”

I sighed, slumping in my chair. “It’s just… easier this way.”

KK rolled her eyes. “You know Paige feels terrible, right? She keeps asking about you.”

My stomach flipped, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. “I’m fine. She doesn’t have to worry about me.”

KK didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought I’d won the argument—until she spoke again, her voice casual.

“Hey, can you stop by the gym tonight? Coach wants to see some of the practice shots you’ve taken for the project.”

I frowned, suspicious. “Coach? Why would he need to see them now?”

KK shrugged, her expression unreadable. “I don’t make the rules. Just swing by, okay?”

That’s how I found myself at the gym later that evening, camera in hand. The space was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound as I stepped inside.

“Coach?” I called out, my voice echoing.

Instead of Coach, Paige emerged from the shadows, her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

“Y/N,” she said, her voice soft.

I froze, my grip tightening on my camera. “Paige? What are you doing here?”

Before she could answer, the gym doors slammed shut behind me, and I turned to see KK waving through the glass window with a wide grin.

“You two need to talk,” KK shouted, her voice muffled by the door. “I’ll let you out in the morning!”

“KK!” I yelled, rushing to the door, but it was locked tight.

Paige let out a small laugh, drawing my attention back to her. “Well, I guess we’re stuck together.”

After a few minutes of awkward silence, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. When I returned, Paige was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the court, my camera in her hands.

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Paige glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I figured I’d record something for you. An apology, I guess.”

Before I could respond, she pressed a button, and the red recording light blinked off—at least, I thought it did.

“Can we talk?” Paige asked, setting the camera aside.

I hesitated before nodding, taking a seat across from her.

“I’m sorry,” she began, her voice sincere. “About your camera, about everything. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know,” I said quietly, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “It’s just… hard. That camera meant a lot to me, and now everyone’s laughing about it like it’s some big joke.”

Paige’s expression softened, and she scooted closer, her knee brushing against mine. “I get it. I’d hate being the center of a meme, too. But you’re more than that clip, Y/N. Your work is incredible, and I’ve seen the way you capture the game—like you see things the rest of us miss.”

Her words made my chest tighten, and I looked away, feeling vulnerable under her gaze.

“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.

Paige reached out, her hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. You’re amazing.”

I glanced up, meeting her eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed

to fade away. Her gaze was steady and warm, filled with an honesty that made my heart stutter.

“Paige…” I started, but my voice faltered.

She gave me a small, lopsided smile, her fingers brushing over mine. “I know I messed up, but I want to make it right. Not just with the camera—but with you. Can we… start over?”

I hesitated, the weight of everything between us making it hard to breathe. But then I saw the earnestness in her expression, the vulnerability she rarely let show.

“Okay,” I said softly, nodding. “We can start over.”

A small laugh escaped her, almost a sigh of relief. “Good. Because I really don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” I lied, though we both knew the truth.

She smirked, leaning back slightly. “Right. You just conveniently disappeared every time I was around?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, maybe I was avoiding you. But only because I didn’t know how to face you after everything.”

“Well,” Paige said, tilting her head, “now you’re stuck with me until KK decides to let us out. So, no more avoiding.”

I chuckled, the tension between us easing slightly. “Guess I don’t have a choice.”

We spent the next few hours talking—about basketball, photography, school, and everything in between. Paige was easy to talk to, her laugh infectious and her stories captivating. For the first time in weeks, I felt at ease.

At some point, exhaustion caught up to us, and we ended up lying on the court, our heads close together as we stared up at the ceiling.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige turned her head to look at me, her expression thoughtful. “All the time. The WNBA feels so close, but at the same time, I’m scared of what it means to leave everything here behind.”

I nodded, understanding her fear. “Change is scary. But you’ll do amazing—you always do.”

Her gaze lingered on me, a soft smile playing on her lips. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I replied, my words steady.

We fell into a comfortable silence, and before I knew it, I drifted off, the warmth of Paige’s presence lulling me to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of muffled laughter. Blinking against the light, I realized Paige and I were still lying on the court, her arm draped over me in a way that felt impossibly natural.

“What do we have here?” KK’s voice rang out, teasing and triumphant.

I sat up quickly, my face burning as I saw KK and Azzi standing near the gym doors, their grins wide and mischievous.

“Did you two have a good night?” Azzi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Paige groaned, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. “Seriously, KK? Was this really necessary?”

KK shrugged, clearly unbothered. “Hey, you two needed to work things out. Mission accomplished, right?”

I glanced at Paige, my embarrassment fading slightly as she gave me a small, knowing smile.

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “Mission accomplished.”

As we stood to leave, I grabbed my camera from where it had been resting on the sidelines. A sinking feeling hit me when I noticed the recording light still blinking.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, quickly stopping the recording.

Paige looked over, her eyes widening as realization dawned. “Wait… was that on the whole time?”

I nodded, mortified.

KK burst out laughing. “Guess we’re gonna have some very interesting footage to review!”

Paige and I exchanged a look, equal parts embarrassed and amused. Maybe this wasn’t the worst way to start over after all.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

[lucst-r]

Have some old art from back when I was more dedicated to learning Japanese and how to write it! (日本語はあまり上手じゃない、残念だな。 (-.-;))

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 19 : Baking cookies for my love, I stir n mix. ִ ࣪𖤐

— PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

As the holiday break draws to an end, students can’t help but dread the return of the semester—you especially. Three weeks off never felt like enough, even though most of your time was spent lounging around your dorm, with the occasional outing for parties or groceries. Still, your bed is bound to miss you after you practically lived in it for 30 hours a day.

Not only that, the events during the Countdown Party haven’t left your mind. You knew they wouldn’t—not easily, at least. Scaramouche was bold enough to take your hand and kiss it, leaving you stuck in your room, turning that moment over and over in your head.

And now, as luck—or maybe the universe’s cruel sense of humor—would have it, you’d be seeing him today. Somehow, everywhere you went, he seemed to show up, and with him now in the same class as you, there was no escape.

The sharp buzz of your alarm ripped through the room, pulling a groan from your lips. You forced yourself out of bed, even though every fiber of your being begged you to crawl back under the covers. But being late on the first day after break? That was a kind of humiliation you weren’t willing to face.

Dragging yourself out of your dorm and into the classroom, you noticed how empty it still was. You slipped into your usual seat, scanning the room idly—until your gaze accidentally met his.

Scaramouche was already looking at you, and to your dismay, he gave you a casual wave, as if that Countdown Party hadn’t happened. You rolled your eyes, tearing your gaze away, but your mind spiraled. Great. Now you looked like a desperate ex trying to find him in a crowd. You crossed your fingers and prayed he wouldn’t mention this in his group chat—though knowing him, he absolutely would.

The first class flew by, though not because you were paying attention. You slept through it, somehow managing to escape the professor’s notice. When the class has been dismissed, you groggily sit up, rubbing your eyes as your classmates shuffled out to the next room.

That’s when you noticed it. A small container of food sitting on your desk, placed so neatly it couldn’t have been an accident. Your brows furrowed as you picked it up, eyes catching the now-familiar handwriting on a note attached to it:

“Eat well :) –s”

Your chest tightened as you stared at the note, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. It was almost impossible not to think back to the coffee jelly he’d given you before.

— ꒰꒰﹒I’m really sorry for the late updates! Semester is starting up again but I had fun making these during my rest days. <3

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin @mywillt0live @kaikaidenkai @alatusorrow @shrimplyasleep @minstarrs @reivelmin @scaraenthusiast1 @girlbesofr2814 @yawn-zi @eternallykira-143 @theintruder1000

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 18/50 ]

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[marvelrivalsimagines]

Nutty Wingman | Squirrel Girl x Reader

Summary: Tippy seems to have “suddenly” gone missing somewhere out in the woods and you offer to help Doreen look for her best friend. 

Author notes: Gender neutral reader with no uses of Y/N. My first Marvel Rivals fanfic, my first fic posted to this account, and the first fic I’m ever posting publicly! I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to leave some feedback :) 

Warnings: None!

Word count: 2,511

It can be hard to catch a break when the entire fate of the multiverse rests on your shoulders, but luckily for you and your team it’s been decided that you’ve all earned one. Taking a rest near the site of your last mission, you and your allies have spent the past few hours in a cozy cabin amongst the snowy woods. It’s truly been a sight for sore eyes considering the multiversal chaos you’ve been through in the past few days. Currently, you stand in the kitchen of the cabin making yourself a warm drink. 

“Tippy! Tippy Toes!” 

You quickly move to peek out of the window over the small sink and you see Doreen standing near the tree line that surrounds the small cabin. The yelling continues and it’s definitely coming from Doreen, but it’s almost hard to recognize the voice as her’s when it’s without all of Doreen’s usual excitement and levity. 

It’s difficult to tell what, exactly, is going on outside but with the way that Doreen paces and looks around wildly as if she’s searching for something it’s clear that she’s upset. After lingering at the window for long enough you rush to place your drink down on the counter and move to the door of the cabin. You pull on your snow boots, forgetting the winter jacket and scarf that the weather outside seems to call for, and rush to see what’s upsetting your friend so much. As you trudge through the snow that blankets the ground outside as fast as you can, you now see Doreen animatedly talking to a dark brown squirrel in a tree. 

“She's got a big pink bow! And- And she’s got the kindest, sweetest eyes - can’t miss em! You haven’t seen her at all??” Doreen is begging this seemingly random forest squirrel and, while you’re in the minority of people out in these woods who can’t speak squirrel, you can tell by Doreen’s reaction that she isn’t getting what she wants. 

“Doreen?” You ask as you get closer to the bushy tailed girl, your breath visible in front of you as you speak. 

Doreen’s head turns to the sound of your voice and the extreme tenseness of her eyebrows eases a bit at the sight of you. “Ohmygod I’m so glad you’re here! And not just for the regular reasons!” 

“Is everything okay? I could hear you yelling from the cabin.” You take a few steps forward to get closer to Doreen, but she closes the space much faster by practically leaping forward towards you, taking hold of your shoulders with a desperate grip. Instinctively your hands move to hold onto Doreen’s forearms to steady yourself as she throws you slightly off balance. 

“I can’t find Tippy Toes! I- You know that Tippy hates being cooped up inside for too long, so I came outside with her to take a little walk! I’ll admit it, I got distracted for a second because I thought I saw an adorable, real fat squirrel. But when I turned back to Tippy she was gone! What if she got jealous of that fat squirrel and decided to leave me forever? Or- Or- What if some tentacle-y, gooped up, interdimensional time stream creature just swallowed her up while I wasn't looking?! Oh Tippy I’m so sorry-” Doreen’s words spill out of her mouth, the more she talks the faster her words come out as her thoughts spiral, and her grip continues to tighten on you. 

“Hey, hey, calm down…” You try to interrupt Doreen’s runaway train of thoughts with a slow and gentle tone as you place one of your hands on top of Doreen’s. Her wide eyes relax slightly and her hands, especially the one that your own hand rests over, loosens its grip. But her intense, worried expression remains as she stares at you, seemingly hoping for some reassurance from you. 

You give Doreen a small smile before speaking again. “I don’t think any of those things happened. Tippy is probably just in one of these trees somewhere doing… Squirrel things. I’ll help you find her if you want-” 

“Really??” Doreen says quickly, barely letting you finish your sentence. Her head perks up almost as quickly as her attitude does and her hands that were on your shoulders suddenly wrap around your back, bringing you into a strong bear hug. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! How could I ever repay such kindness?” Doreen states dramatically as she sways back and forth excitedly with you in her arms. 

“Don’t worry about it…” You mumble as your face is squished slightly into Doreen’s shoulder. Despite the slightly awkward position, you’re unable to stop the wide smile that spreads across your face. The hug is tight as Doreen’s arms wrap fully around you; she holds you close against her body and you can feel the puffy surface of her winter jacket pressing against your skin. The fur trim that decorates the jacket tickles a little bit and as you rest against her you can begin to feel the warmth from Doreen’s body.  While the hug is certainly tight, it’s really impossible to complain when you feel so comfortable.

“Hey, let’s go, partner! If we don’t find Tippy before her dinner time she’ll be real upset!” Doreen says cheerily, her arms having loosened from around you for an unknown amount of time. She looks expectantly at you, waiting for you to come back from whatever you were daydreaming about. 

Heat rises to your cheeks as you realize that the hug had ended far before you were able to stop yourself from thinking about it. “Oh- Of course. Lead the way, I’m sure you have a better guess of where Tippy might have gone than me.” 

“Hmmm. If I were a squirrel, which I kind of am, I would have gone…” Doreen placed a hand on her chin, rubbing at the skin in an exaggerated display of thought. “This way!” She points in a direction that seems fairly random to you and begins to walk with excitement. 

“Is there any reason you think Tippy went this way?” You ask, genuinely curious if the squirrel had left behind some hint that you couldn’t pick up on. You’ve seen lots of heroes, both allies and enemies, brush Doreen’s powers off with confidence, assuming that her control of squirrels was useless. It always makes you smile to see just how quickly Doreen proves them wrong, putting countless heroes in their place. 

“Well knowing that hungry squirrel as well I do, Tippy is probably gonna head where there are lots of snacks. And with my squirrel senses I can tell that there are lots of nuts this way.” Doreen responds, gesturing to the dirt path that she leads the both of you onto. 

“Have I…” The words escape your mouth before your sudden nerves have time to stop them. Both on and off the battlefield, it feels like you’ve just been spending more and more time admiring Doreen- and that moment you shared earlier added even more fuel to your feelings. You feel your heart begin to beat faster as the memory of Doreen’s hug refuses to leave your mind. “Have I ever said how cool I think your powers are, Doreen? Plus, you’re so creative, the way you use your abilities is crazy - in a good way! I’m… Really glad we’re in this multiversal mess together.” 

You can feel the drumming beat in your chest reach its peak as you finally finish your thoughts. You grimace slightly; was that a good time to compliment her, right after she just talked about how her powers help her find tree nuts in the woods? While your eyes are locked on the path ahead, mind caught up in overthinking your words, you miss the wide, genuine smile that overtakes Doreen’s face - one that wrinkles her nose slightly and lights up her eyes. 

“Aw shucks… Thank you.” Doreen’s words pause for a moment, which is rare for the girl who always seems ready to fire back a cheesy one liner, and you turn to look at her. Doreen was already staring at you, there’s a soft and almost vulnerable look in her eyes. Feeling heat rise to your cheeks, your gaze quickly moves slightly away from her eyes to focus on her hair instead. You notice how some stray flakes of snow are caught up in the wild strands. “There’s not many people who really seem to appreciate how useful and strong squirrels can really be. It’s been real nice having you around, you always have my back.”

Before you can respond a strong gust blows across the path sending the long fallen snow on the ground back up into the air for a moment, flakes skittering around the dirt path. Instinctually you wrap your arms around yourself, the cold wind is a biting reminder of the fact that you forgot to put on your jacket before volunteering to help Doreen. Luckily your clothes are thick enough to have been doing an okay job at keeping you warm so far, but the wind kicking up now seems to cut right through the cloth. 

Doreen immediately picks up on your shiver and her eyebrows raise as the realization of your missing jacket seems to hit her as well. “Woah, wait a minute! Am I forgetting about some sort of anti-getting-cold-superpowers you have or do you not have a jacket for some reason?”

“Um, yeah. I guess I kind of forgot about grabbing one of those. I-I’ll be fine though, I’m sure we’ll find Tippy soon.” You start to walk forward on the path again, hoping to hurry up the search for the squirrel and get home soon. 

“Hey, Tippy is my best friend but you’re just as important to me too!” Doreen places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you from walking away. “I’m not going to let you freeze out here, especially when the only reason you’re out here is because you’re just so super sweet and awesome and wanted to help me out! Ohhh think Doreen, think!”

Doreen places her hands on her head, her steps pacing in small circles back and forth as she racks her brain for ideas; she of course wants to keep you safe from the cold, but what about Tippy? The end of Doreen’s bushy squirrel tail flicks back and forth quickly, swishing through the air and brushing against your chest occasionally as she paces. You smile slightly at the contact, it’s a bit funny to see Doreen so focused, and the fur is surprisingly soft to the touch. 

Doreen doubles back to pace again and you giggle slightly as this time the fur brushes against your upper chest and neck, “Come on Doreen, don’t worry about me. Let’s just find Tippy fast and we’ll head back soon.” You say, which causes Doreen to stop her pacing for now. You reach a hand up to gently touch the fur of Doreen’s tail and move some of it away so it’s no longer brushing up against the ticklish area of your neck. You still let the fluff rest against your chest, hoping it’s not too obvious that you’re enjoying both the physical contact and the warmth that the thick fur provides. 

“Ah hah!” Doreen says, suddenly rushing closer to your side. She loops an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her side. Before you can ask what idea suddenly came to her, Doreen’s tail wraps around you as much as it can, going around your back and over your shoulders. The end of the tail brushes against the side of your face, the soft fur resting up against your cheek. A massive, proud smile is plastered across Doreen’s face as she looks at you. Her hand that isn’t around you rests against her hip and her chest is puffed up, confident in her solution. “Squirrel powers to the rescue yet again! Who knew this old thing would come in handy huh?”

You can feel Doreen’s arm across your back and her hand on your shoulder, her gentle but determined grip ensures you’re glued right to her side. The thick fur is certainly protecting you from the wind now as the soft strands brush against some of your skin; a little ticklish but also comforting. It’s surprisingly similar to being wrapped up in a very thick blanket, tucked in so tight you can’t move your arms much. You can’t help but lean into the fur that rests near your face, letting your cheek brush up against the smooth fur that slightly warms up the skin that had been battered by the cold wind.  

“Are you spacing out on me again?” Doreen’s face gets teasingly closer to your own as she easily notices your lack of words as you appreciate, literally, being wrapped up with her. A slightly mischievous, but still sweet, look crosses her face as she sees your wide eyes and flustered expression. Doreen can’t help but giggle as your faces draw closer and closer to each other, both of you closing the gap now, and your noses almost touch. “Squirrel got your tongue?” Doreen teases again, her voice low, almost a whisper as you’re so close together. 

You give a quick, chaste kiss to the end of Doreen’s nose. As you do so, you can see a bright pink blush spread across her cheeks as her mouth drops open slightly, only to quickly close in a warm smile. Doreen moves her free hand to gently take hold of the side of your face, giving you the time to move away if you wanted. When she feels you lean into her touch, however, she closes her eyes and quickly brings her lips towards yours in a kiss. Like Doreen, the kiss is sweet with a palpable excitement in the way she presses her lips against yours. After a few moments Doreen pulls away from the kiss and gazes into your eyes. 

“D’awww!! You're just the sweetest, cutest person ever! I should just wrap you up like this and take you everywhere with me every day!” Doreen coos, moving her other arm to wrap you up in a bear hug and truly smother you. You muscles relax, fully leaning into the hug as you’re warmed by the embrace and infectious excitement of Doreen. 

Somewhere off in a tree a few meters away from the both of you sits a small, white squirrel with a pink bow. Tippy chuckles, or makes a noise as close to chuckling as a squirrel can, to herself as she watches you and Doreen in each other's arms. She’s starting to get cold as well, but as Tippy sees the content smiles on both of your faces she decides to give you both a few more minutes of peace on the trail. As Tippy grooms herself on one of the snow covered tree branches she thinks of all the extra nuts she can ask for as a reward for her matchmaking skills. 

[dandelion-system]

Hello!

I’m not sure of the extent of our covert-ness, as a couple of people have said after our diagnosis that they ‘had a feeling something was going on’. But, nobody ever bought it up before our diagnosis, except the occasional snarky comment from my mum that I acted like ‘a 2 year old’ sometimes or I was just ‘not the dandy she knew’

But other than that- im reckoning that we were pretty covert.

I (Raven) haven’t been around as long as some of the others, so I’m gonna go off what they’re telling me. But according to them, when we were physically younger, we would very, very frequently have conversations with, arguments with, debates with ourself using we/us pronouns. As a kid we just told ourself we were using the royal we, and woke did it when we were alone. But we did it. Lots of disagreements over food and clothes and what games to play or shows to watch- and also a lot of ‘mum is gonna kill us’ ‘stop being so dramatic ugh look at us!’ ‘Why am I talking like this?’ ‘I’m just gonna be quiet for a bit now.’

I wasn’t aware back then that these were alters, but it’s the earliest I can say that we have been communicating.

Come our early teen years, and this I remember doing myself because I was a little weirdo as a 13 year old- we got really into spirituality, both the meditation kind and the ghosts kind. I think it was me and Cass, and I was more ghost and Cassie was more meditation. Anyway, I was like, 90% sure we were haunted, and I would talk to the ghosts in my head. I was hanging around some witchy people at the time so I was completely convinced this was normal. Cassie did a lot of visualisation meditation, and she got actual VISUALS! she met up with Sasha most, but saw some others. I don’t know and she’s asleep so I won’t bother her.

Pre system discovery, communication was not exactly easy or something we understood. Post discovery, it’s been a bit better. We’re still covert, except for the people who know our diagnosis.

The thing that started making us think about being a system was actually a psychology class. We were doing a childhood unit and talking about how emotional needs need to be met for regular development, and I started thinking, and I started realising that we actually had a really rough time of it. A bunch of circumstances and bad environments had likely led us to develop a bunch of the ‘irregular’ behaviours we were studying in class. We’ve always been curious, so we started looking at patterns in behaviours.

Eventually, we found that the only things we could see a pattern in was memory loss. This led us to discovering dissociation and how it can cause amnesia.

Fast forward a bit, and we’re looking into things that cause dissociation and consider DID. The host at the time starts noting shifting food preferences, shifting gender, shifting opinions and feeling of what age we were, shifting priorities, likes and dislikes. It’s a while before anything comes of this, but we start noticing patterns. We always feel x, y, z at the same time, for example one of our alters, who we still struggle to distinguish we sorta have a checklist almost? Feels like a boy, but not fully, loves the rain, hates milk, feels 14.

Some alters have been easier to communicate with than others just due to willingness to be seen and heard. Others still try and hide away from front, mask as ‘host’ or pretend to be another alter so they don’t get noticed.

I think I may have rambled a bit so I’m sorry about that. I think overall, what I’m saying is that it’s been a journey to be able to communicate with parts, even after being diagnosed for two years and knowing about the system for three. Some parts still won’t communicate, some that used to now refuse, and some like myself have slowly been able to get more confident in talking. But it’s really fluid. Sometimes it’s like no one is there at all, and sometimes it’s like there’s 5 or 6 of us in front, and it’s so loud then. Sometimes I can see them trying to talk to me, or feel it? But not hear it. Sometimes I can hear it but can’t see it. Sometimes we need to be dissociated to communicate properly. Sometimes it takes a lot of focus to communicate. It’s going to be different for each alter, too. I can almost always communicate with James and the few littles that always hang around, but I’m not so great when it comes to other alters.

I guess it all just comes down to patience. And not being afraid to get it wrong. Anyway, I hope this was helpful and not just a big old ramble haha. I hope you’re okay too!

Any systems who were very Covert before discovery how did you discover/start communicating with your parts?

Anymore resources or personal experience would be helpful to me, whether through this post, or my ask box if you want to remain anon

Note: i do not know any confirmed names or information about them please do not give me resources that only contribute to already established/known parts, thank you.

[st-santana]

some red dead sketches over the past month, hopefully out of artblock so!! enjoy!!

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

dnp are so much worse than we could ever be. they bully us for being like omg they touched and then sit there screaming and giggling and kicking their feet because omg dan helped phil sort his fringe out in 2015 that’s soooo sweet!1!!1!!!!! 😭😭😭 omg did you see how they communicated without words?? 😱 they are so in tune with each other they have such a powerful connection 🥹🥰😆 so cute how dan was looking out for phil soulmate shit fr 🥺 let’s watch it again 😝😍🤣😵🤭🫨 like shut the fuck up?? fucking phannies?? you’re so embarrassing??

[irate-iguana]

We need more weird historian rep in Doctor Who. The companions are too normal when faced with the prospect of time travel. I want a companion who makes a list of super specific historical destinations related to their dissertation. I want somebody whose first reaction to finding out that the Doctor is a time travelling alien is to create a Microsoft Word document and ask, “What caused the Late Bronze Age collapse?”

[itsaprosthetic]

we are so back

We are so back

[royaltea000]

Evolution

Some earlier concept sketches I loved but ultimately couldn’t do cuz there was just so much of it

[theythemmer]

oh he want that cookie alright

[bigbebe]

this was part of some sort of attempt to draw deltarune characters from memory… i ended up putting in details that i knew weren’t there anyway though lol

[savemebeel]

So new update on the blog:

I found out who reported me and silentserenitystreet to Solmare. I won’t be naming them because I don’t want anymore drama and I’m too emotionally drained to wanna deal with them. What’s done is done so I’ll just have to move forward. I know I should be mad but I am just so tired that I just don’t care anymore.

The only thing I really have to say is their actions are very hypocritical and done with bad intentions. All of my edits were simply done for fun and to benefit the rest of the fandom. I don’t not profit off of my edits let alone claimed that i owned any of the art when obviously I don’t. But if I must I will begin to add notes under my edits that I do not own any of the art I’m editing. I will also avoid posting any collab art from obey me unless it’s from their promotional posts. Aside from that I’d rather avoid posting any collab art to avoid anymore strikes.

Sorry for the long post but I feel like it would only be fair to let you guys know why my first blog was wiped off the site. Thank you for reading this.

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it