#i've been forgetting to put that tag on stuff-

[prophecyoflunarflame]

Somewhat outdated Runner art along with some equally somewhat outdated refs for both Runner and Ambuscade. Good enough as refs for now, though you can probably already spot design changes between the ref and the drawing for Runner. They will be updated, at some point at least.

Runner is based off a Lionfish while Ambuscade is based off a Betta fish. Yes the spines are poisonous.

Designs are also completely free to use as long as you credit me. Feel free to add your own spins to the design as well!

[deoidesign]

Thinking about vampires, death, life, and the space they occupy in between

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

"my education is my highest priority" everything returns to vocaloid

[baelavelaryon]

made this template for my courier and her lame-ass boyfriend. (everybody better clap and cheer for him or she WILL blow up this whole building. she's got explosives as a tagged skill)

[lokisaved]

The wildest thing about getting to take a photo with Tom is that it didn't feel quite real, like he wasn't a real person standing there in front of me that I was about to be right next to. I partially attribute that to how fast the line was going, but even if I had a bit more time to process, I surely would have felt the same: that a man whose life, basically, I had been following since 2013, was in the same room as me and I was mere feet away.

I was lightheaded in the moments prior to the photo, although whether due to being hungry and needed water or overwhelmed suddenly despite not feeling it before (and thrown off by the girl in front of me trying to hold a brief conversation and the crew trying to escort her away), I'm not sure. I do wonder how Tom feels about the whole thing, about how fast it went.

We greeted each other, I got to shake his hand (his hand really is big, much larger than I expected, yet when he shook mine, it didn't feel overwhelming, and he didn't crush me), he put his arm behind me and mine behind him (his coat was quite soft; my mom speculated it's a nice/fancy wool), we smiled, FLASH, I thanked him (I can't recall if he thanked me), and off I went.

While fast, definitely 100% worth it. I've never had the chance to go anywhere else he's been due to time and money, but this time, the stars aligned.

I was lucky enough to have enough income to be able to do that plus get better seating for the live show, which was also definitely worth it; I wasn't as close as I would have liked, but better than higher up—and the general seating filled up really fast, so much so that when it got delayed due to autographs (I get the sense they overbooked him, because he had to go BACK after it was done), they told us not to leave the theatre because so many people couldn't get in.

Anyway, I absolutely loved being able to hear him talk in person, and he told pretty much all new stories this time! At least, new to me, but I'm pretty sure most of them had not been told before, probably because the audience got to ask the questions (using a Google forms from the week before that was only open for twenty-four hours AND I MISSED—and they had apparently 84 questions?? Surely they could have left that open longer, then).

I really hope I get the opportunity to see him in person again in some form or fashion; i.e. I'd probably do an autograph, or if he's got enough live event, just pay for good seating for that. I don't know if I'll get so lucky a second time, and I will definitely cherish this for a long while.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Coming out of a two-hour long dive for a new phone wallpaper and lockscreen in a daze

[wehaveagathering]

Hey lovely! New flyers fan here and was just wondering if you could recommend flyers blogs to follow 🥰 Want to start lbing with you all because it seems fun

Hi bud!!! happy to have you :0 🧡🖤

honestly? just jump straight into the lb with us on thursday instead! we're playing dallas at home and trying to extend a win streak to five, so it should be exciting >:) you can see us all in real time and figure out who you might want to follow from there! or if you can't wait until then, you can scroll thru the tag right now and see who you vibe with! you can also check out my flyers tag on my blog too, to see who i reblog flyers stuff from and who reblogs it from me. curate your own online experience! the thrill of discovery is greater when unearthed by your own two hands!!!

and last but not least GO FLYERS

[mcmansionhell]

2007-core nostalgia extravaganza

Quick PSA: someone on Facebook is apparently impersonating me using an account called "McMansion Hell 2.0" -- If you see it, please report! Thanks!

Howdy folks! I hope if you were born between 1995 and 2001 you're ready for some indelible pre-recession vibes because I think this entire house, including the photos have not been touched since that time.

This Wake County, NC house, built in 2007, currently boasts a price tag of 1.7 million smackaroos. Its buxom 4 bedrooms and 4.5 baths brings the total size to a completely reasonable and not at all housing-bubble-spurred 5,000 square feet.

I know everyone (at least on TikTok) thinks 2007 and goes immediately to the Tuscan theming trend that was super popular at the time (along with lots of other pseudo-euro looks, e.g. "french country" "tudor" etc). In reality, a lot of decor wasn't particularly themed at all but more "transitional" which is to say, neither contemporary nor super traditional. This can be pulled off (in fact, it's where the old-school Joanna Gaines excelled) but it's usually, well, bland. Overwhelmingly neutral. Still, these interiors stir up fond memories of the last few months before mommy was on the phone with the bank crying.

I think I've seen these red/navy/beige rugs in literally every mid-2000s time capsule house. I want to know where they came from first and how they came to be everywhere. My mom got one from Kirkland's Home back in the day. I guess the 2010s equivalent would be those fake distressed overdyed rugs.

I hate the kitchen bench trend. Literally the most uncomfortable seating imaginable for the house's most sociable room. You are not at a 19th century soda fountain!!! You are a salesforce employee in Ohio!!!

You could take every window treatment in this house and create a sampler. A field guide to dust traps.

Before I demanded privacy, my parents had a completely beige spare bedroom. Truly random stuff on the walls. An oversized Monet poster they should have kept tbh. Also putting the rug on the beige carpet here is diabolical.

FYI the term "Global Village Coffeehouse" originates with the design historian Evan Collins whose work with the Consumer Aesthetics Research Institute!!!!

This photo smells like a Yankee Candle.

Ok, now onto the last usable photo in the set:

No but WHY is the house a different COLOR??????? WHAT?????

Alright, I hope you enjoyed this special trip down memory lane! Happy (American) Labor Day Weekend! (Don't forget that labor is entitled to all it creates!)

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of��we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

[dan-crimes]

Ohoho I mean if anyone wants me to actually start posting original stuff I'm gonna take it not seriously at all which is the only way Imma get anything done but that ALSO means the stuff Imma be making is legit gonna be stupid af and only appeal to an audience of me which idc abt appealing to other people anyway I just know Imma be annoying af if I actually have the energy to commit the bit

[caffichai]

Food Bank Fundraiser

Hi everyone!

First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who's been leaving such nice tags/comments on stuff I've posted! It's been really encouraging (o^▽^o)

Anyway, I think we all know it's very dark days on the economic front for many of us. So as such, I'd like to help raise some funds for Food Banks Canada! In exchange for you making a donation to the food bank, I will draw a character suggestion!

I know this is not really the sort of thing I normally do or post here but... many folks are struggling to put food on the table right now, and the food bank is a source of support for many and provides an absolute necessity. I've seen many people struggling in my own city, and food security has become an even bigger issue than it already was in the last couple of years with the food bank struggling to keep up with demand. Of course, food security is an issue across the whole country that's putting a huge strain on food banks, with nearly 5% of the entire population making use of food banks monthly, and 23% of the population reporting food insecurity (CBC, 2024; Global News, 2024). Unsurprisingly, those who are already most disadvantaged suffer the effects of food scarcity even more (Statistics Canada, 2023). To make matters more desperate, Canada's food bank system is on the brink of collapse (CTV News, 2024).

I know this isn't going to something big enough to change the world or anything, but being able to make even a small impact for individual people is important too!

✨Incentives✨

Of course, I'm sure people aren't just in it for a reward, but rewards make things all the sweeter, right?

For those who want to contribute, I'll take a character suggestion and add it to a poll (depending on the number of contributors, it may be split up into multiple polls), and then I'll draw as many as I can from top to bottom ranking! If you contribute, please send me a DM with your donation receipt and your character idea! They won't necessarily all be drawn in the same style, and they'll be done according to how much time I've got. (I know that commissions are probably the biggest incentive, but realistically, I struggle to get them done quickly and they're probably not that affordable to everyone)

If you prefer SFW or NSFW, you can let me know (But NSFW will be posted to Cohost). If you make a bigger contribution, I'll reach out to you and ask if you wanna see more specifics/details in your piece. How's that for sweetening the pie? :3

For those who can't make a donation (which is completely understandable), simply spreading the post is also helpful, and I appreciate that greatly as well!

Don't forget that giving a donation allows you to get a tax break based on the amount donated as well!

Alternatives?

If you'd rather donate to your own local food bank, that's great too! You can DM me and send me a pic of your receipt and I'll still add your suggestion to the poll.

If you REALLY want a commission, you can also DM me and I'll do my best to fulfil it! I won't be taking commissions for this till/if there's at least a couple of items on the poll though. The proceeds will go to my own local food bank. The commission will be done later though, and may take some time to fulfil. I take payment only after starting.

When do we start??

I guess once there's a good number of poll options? I have no idea how long that will be, but rest assured I'll keep you updated!

Where do we contribute?

You can make your donation to Food Banks Canada! They really need it!

Alternatively, you can make a donation to your local food bank or equivalent charity.

Other Questions?

Feel free to send me a message or an ask! I'll get back to you ASAP. If I need to include more details or clarify something, let me know! It's my first time doing this!

TL;DR

I want to help raise money for food banks! Anyone who contributes to Food Banks Canada (or donates to their own local food bank or equivalent charity) can DM me with their receipt and give a character to add to the poll. Poll characters will be drawn in order of their ranking, as many as I can manage, over as long a period of time as I can manage!

No pressure to donate of course, I just figured this would be a fun way of raising a bit of money to help out, and allow us to donate more than what I personally can

Current Contributor Count: 13

Suggested Characters:

Imagine your beloved, obscure or popular character here on this poll list! Oooooooh, how lucrative :3

Total funds raised:

780.36$!!!

[justporo]

Hello! Love your writing SO much. I’ve always wondered though, what would Astarion do if he was in love with Tav but she was insecure about how pretty he was and how she wasn’t good looking enough for him??

So first of all, Anon, let me apologise for letting this sit in my inbox so long - and thank you so much! I guess at some point I've gotten a little overwhelmed with all ideas and requests. I'll still try and answer as many as possible!

So, back on topic:

Headcanons for Astarion battling his partner's insecurity

When you open up about how you feel insecure - especially compared to him - you get a staredown first of all; it does nothing to help with your anxiety and insecurity

"Darling, we don't talk bad about ourselves in this relationship, only about others!"

Expect a lot of aggressive and kind of hysteric support (because this man can talk himself into a fit)

"You'd seriously think I'd settle with anything below heartbreakingly beautiful? Really? You think too much of me!"

He's serious (but also you know it's more than about surface stuff)

He tries everything: aggressive flattery, poetically pointing out all the most beautiful things about you, just staring into your eyes while holding your face (until you might start to cry because damn, this is about you but he's so beautiful)

In all seriousness, when he realises none of it is helping, he will make you stand up, in the middle of the room

His hands wander over your spine, make you straighten your back, lift your chin up, maybe put a strand of hair back behind your ear

One of his hands softly grabs your chin, his brows furrow: "You've done this for me once, now let me be your mirror, my love. When I look at you - I see these eyes, first of all. They're capable of so much: the greatest warmth I've ever felt, fierceness that would make even the strongest foe quiver, deep admiration for all the beauty in the world that you always tend to find. And this smile that never fails to almost make me stumble. Gods be damned, if my heart wasn't cold and dead in my chest it would skip a beat every time you smiled at me. And this body - do you even understand what it has accomplished? Carried you through every step, every battle, every blow and blast - to me if I may be so selfish. So I can admire and worship it everyday." "I thought this wasn't supposed to be poetry?"

And Astarion hushes you and pulls you to him, kisses you until you forget whatever it was you had been feeling in the first place

To be sure, very very sure, Astarion repeats this time and again - especially the worshipping part - that's his favourite

(He casually ruins it by making jokes about how you're "the second most beautiful person in the room", but you forgive him quickly)

Astarion is just very good at getting his point across, don't you think? So you should better believe him!

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess

[fairyhaos]

ᜊ : WELCOME TO FAIRYHAOS’...

hello beloved whimsies! we're finally nearing the end of another year, and just like we did in 2023, it's time to review everything that happened in 2024 ^^ here in this post i'll go back over some general stats, some "top (x)" categories, and also a shoutout to all the lovely people i've met here on tumblr <3

but first, the general stats!

the fairyhaos account was opened 603 days ago (as of new year's eve)

crazily, we have a total of 4382 followers already - which is 1505 in just this year,

and the total number of moots has risen to over 40 !

in 2024, ive written 34 works (+1 for tubatu!!),

created 21 gifsets (+2 for zb1!!),

made 3.6k+ posts in general,

received 325 posts in my tracked tag #useryenas (thanku guys so much for that)

and wracked up 62.7k+ notes in this year alone!

(which brings the total note count to 169.8k... LITERALLY INSANE)

statistics-wise, this year has been absolutely incredible, despite how inactive i've been, so thank you everyone!!

now, how about the top post stats?

total word count in 2024: ~87,000 words!!!

top fic of 2024: no such thing as too perfect // jww (2,300 notes)

top fic of all time: 04:15am // csc (4,514 notes)

fav fic from 2024: all mother nature's fault // hjs

top gif from 2024: joshua | arena x barrie (407 notes)

top gif of all time: gyuseokshu | babygirls (658 notes)

fav gif from 2024: yujin | prettiest person in the world

this is all absolutely amazing, but genuinely, this wouldn't have been possible without the support and love i've received from all of you: moots, followers, and everyone else who has been so, so kind.

so finally, here are my thanks!

first port of call is of course, my most beloved writer moots who i've known since day 1! thank you to @blue-jisungs for being so bright and friendly, to @weird-bookworm for being the biggest, kindest supporter i could ask for, to @etherealyoungk for being so lovely all the time, to @icyminghao, @hannyoontify, @wheeboo, @slytherinshua, @haecien, @wollycobbl3-blr @gyuswhore @arafilez @eternalgyu @idubiluv @wonwoonlight @odxrilove @leejungchans @joonsytip @mirxzii @trblsvt @reikaryu for just being so sweet and so fun and making me grateful every day that i found you. i talk to u all with varying degrees of frequency, but still, i love you all so much. thank you!

and ofc, there are my incredibly talented cc moots who have been w me since last year :( our main content may be different, but i'm so thankful to have known u all bc you're all the friendliest, most talented people in the world! to @sugurugetos for always being so kind since day one, to @vcrnons for being the sweetest, to the always friendly @soonhoonsol, to @meowonhao @h-ao @seokmins @joshuas, thank you for being here because you brighten up my dash, without a fail, all the time!

then to all the moots i made this year, hello and thank you!! thank you to @chwedout for being so silly and kind, to @96z for your loveliness and being the caratblr glue, to @jeonwon-wonwoo for being the kindest soul ever, to @planetkiimchi and @eoieopda for being fun and sweet and so, so nice. and of course, thanks to @pookiez, @p1harmonie @rosieposie @y-eontan @fabulaee, because we even though the only interaction we have is reblogging the same stuff and me putting things in your tracked tags, i love seeing you on my dash and you make my day so much better, genuinely. <3

it feels strange to put this in, but i also want to thank the people who i follow, even if they don't follow me back: because i love your posts, and i think it's important that i say it! you all form a key part of my experience here, so thank you: @jeonghanic @soobinies @lee-sanghyeok @yeonjune @db2k @hoshingi @wnjunhui @renjunniez @myungjaehyun !!

but there's no way i'm forgetting everyone else!

to @melodicrabbit @caratsandpotatoes and @minhui896, whose rbs i always look forward to whenever i post; to @chocoreads and @k1eev for being excited about yeoubi since the start, thank you so much. to the people who tagged me in their fic recs post, thank you too!!!

to 🍒 anon, vernon anon, glasses shua anon, 😼 anon, and any other named anons ive forgotten, thank you for popping into my inbox and making my day. to any unnamed anons, or anons who appeared once and then left, or those who came back without an emoji: i see you, and thank you for interacting with me!

and then to anyone who i haven't called out—all of my lovely supporters, beloved yena's fairies, thank you! i see you all, and i'm so grateful for all your love and i'll look to repay it in kind with much more content to be released next year. 2024 has been a busy year, both personally and for fairyhaos, and i'm where i am right now because of all of you.

happy new year everyone, and i hope you're all nothing but happy and healthy in 2025 💗

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

perhaps a bit of an odd question: so, when I'm scrolling tumblr on mobile, I have a habit of downloading most images i come across, so that I can send them to people who don't use tumblr, especially memes and animal photos. however, i also have severe memory issues, and I may end up forgetting where i got certain images. i know for the photo repository one of the rules is to not repost the photos without any modification- which i might forget, or forget which images on my phone fall under that rule. and while i would guess that that rule doesn't apply to stuff like direct messages or texts, i might forget to tell the person I'm sending it to, who might repost it elsewhere without being aware, or months after downloading i will just forget and use one of the photos in a post I'm making because it felt relevant.

this is something i can pretty easily solve myself by just blocking the photo repository blog, or tags relating to it, but I'd rather not do that because i do really like seeing the photos and all the info and stuff. and i would assume it would be an insane amount of work for you to add something like a watermark to every single photo, so I'm not really sure how to go about this. i like seeing the photos, but i don't want to accidentally break the rules.

You clearly care deeply about doing the "right thing", so, what that tells me is that you're not actually the target audience for that rule. I appreciate all the thought you put into this message. Let's talk about it!

I've been reconsidering if requiring people to get permission for reposting images is the best policy to have and I'd like people to weigh in.

My original reasoning was this: the more I can ensure that reposts are affiliated with credit, the better I can control copyright on the images on the site, and therefore have more ground to challenge any scrapers/fake accounts/AR groups that yoink them for nefarious purposes. The easiest way to do that seemed to be to have people ping and ask, with the expectation of saying yes almost all the time.

But there's a couple problems with that, I think, in practice:

People don't like emailing strangers (I forget this! I have done it for work for so many years it isn't uncomfortable anymore).

This isn't how the internet works. (Tumblr has a specific microculture that encourages crediting creators and not stealing! Once this is shared more widely on other platforms, I don't expect it'll be the same ecosystem).

It actually undermines organic spread of content! (You're less likely to make an excited post about a cool photo if you have to send a maybe-scary email and wait for a response). And I do want there to be lots of eyeballs on the photos.

Realistically, @nexus-nebulae, with the policy right now? If you slipped up and reposted something without thinking, I'd just ask you to add credit to the post so it directs back to the site. The goal of this whole project is community access and engagement - I want to you to enjoy the photos, and send them to your friends! I'm just trying to also protect it from the awful that a lot of the internet has become.

But, I'm also wondering it it makes sense to swap the policy to say that it's fine to re-post images on socials as long as they're appropriately credited and/or linked back to the repository. This isn't the policy yet, but if you're reading this please tell me what you're thinking.

Non-edited image use (like putting them in a scientific paper, using them to build a curriculum unit, or putting them on board game cards - these are just random examples) would still need to be requested; but that's an entirely protective stance and if you ask, my goal is to always say yes.

So OP, please don't worry too much. Enjoy looking at the animals, do your best, and I'll be happy. :)

[gingersnapwolves]

so I had some thoughts on the burnout post but didn't want to hijack it so this is just my own rambling attempt to process the feelings I've been struggling with for two days which obviously not everyone wants to read, thus my putting a read more

I've been crying off and on for the past couple days which is really no surprise, and I've been trying to avoid political news and political posts. In fact, after this I plan to hide the political tags for a while, heavily curate my Reddit experience, and then do I don't even know what with all my new free time

because I don't talk about it a lot here, this is my fandom space, my casual space, and I'll sometimes post about personal stuff but almost never politics, but I am actually very political. 'member of multiple political mailing lists, have marched in many protests, write postcards to swing state voters' political. and I want to talk a little about why this defeat feels different. because this crushed me in a way that 2016 did not.

the thing is. over the past few days I've seen a lot of people talking about how if you didn't realize Trump was going to win, you live in a bubble. and I think to a certain extent that's true. we all have our little echo chambers. but for me, at least, and a lot of the people I know, it wasn't just that. it was this core certainty that Trump would not win, could not win, because surely our country wasn't like that. surely our fellow Americans were not like that. it wasn't about competency or about policy. it was about basic human decency. and that's what I feel like we lost. not an election. but any remaining belief we had that people are basically good.

because it seems they're not. at least not around here. the cold hard fact at the end of the day is that the majority of our country looked at a senile, racist, fascist criminal grifter [eta: how could I forget rapist in that description?] and either actively wanted him to hold the highest office in the land, or just didn't care whether or not he did. they know exactly what he's going to do, and they're fine with it. and that hurts so much that it is nearly unbearable.

how do you move on from that? how do you cope with the fact that there's something so deeply rotten at the core of your fellow man? how do you deal with that? how do you fight back?

I am full of so much grief that I literally don't know where to put it.

so I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired. I'm nauseated. I'm angry. But most of all, I'm sad. I can't do it right now. and I think that's probably okay. I think in six weeks or six months I'll feel differently. but right now I just can't do it. and I think the most important thing really can be to take a step back and focus on something else. because I know these feelings are not productive. I know that there are still good people out there and there are still things worth fighting for. but right now, all I feel is this aching chasm where my faith in humanity used to be.

so I'm unplugging - not from fandom or tumblr, but from politics and news - for at least a little while. sometimes that's the most important thing to do if you want to still be able to get out of bed in the morning.