#last time it took me like an hour and a half to do

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[kaivenom]

Since February 9th is my birthday I got an idea, how about what one piece dilfs do on your birthday?

What the OP Dilfs do on your birthday

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: oowwwww, happy birthdayyyy, i am so glad that you asked me for this.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He prefers a rather small event, just him and you, maybe Perona and even Zoro if he can.

But if you want a party with other people, then he would try to tolerate other peoples presence.

Picture this: the backyard of your families house, all with balloons, food and all your relatives from all ages.

Then Mihawk with a glass of wine having to stand children and annoying aunts.

When you didn't found him anywhere, you searched for him and found him with your grandma (or another old female relative) gossiping.

When you left the house and finally are alone, he finally gave you your gift... probably jewelry.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't make it an official holiday but every one takes it like that cause there is a parade all over the city.

Like a Valentine's day 2.0

Privately he does a big feast on the castle and it's the only time you got to sit on the throne (and not his lap).

Like he says "You are the queen for the day"

He even orders some people to do humilliating things to make you laugh, but you have to stop him and reassure him that you just need to be with him on the moment.

Every one of the crew was invited to the party which means that Doflamingo ordered them the exact gift they have to get you, so you can have everything you want.

Baby 5 told you his plan so you went to thank him for the party and for being so sweet and lovely, at least for your special day.

Sr. Crocodile

A surprise trip, to anywhere you want like... you woke up and he asked you were you wanted to go, you said and hours later there you are.

You went to all the sites you wanted and he even ordered some fireworks for midnight.

He reserved on your favourite restaurant and he even "asked" (he literally threatened their families) to do your favourite cake.

Of course, all the things you've been wanting since christmas, he got them from you.

In the case the trip couldn't be made cause you already had plans with friends and family, expect him to celebrate before you go and wait for you to continue celebrating.

He understands that you can share your time with other people and he won't interfere but he absolutely would use all the other time you had.

Quality time and gifts are his love language so expect that a lot.

Smoker

You both go a day out at work for personal affairs.

He mades you breakfast and put it on the bed, this day, you are the only thing on his life.

You do everything you want this day: a picnic? done, a fancy restaurant? movies and popcorn?

All of it? also yes.

He even tries to cook himself a birthday cake but the attend gets so bad that you had to help him.

He is reticent about it but when you suggested him that this is the perfect couple birthday activity, he accepted.

The ussual movie flour fight type of thing, but you ended up doing the dessert and you finally made your wish.

But there is no better wish than to have spent the day with him.

Akagami Shanks

You are free from all your responsabilities on the ship.

You are the first to be served on lunch and everyone left you alone to be at peace.

More than that the day went awfully normal, even with Shanks, you started to even feel crazy cause nobody even said "good birthday" but they clearly know due to their behaviour.

Then Shanks ordered to arrive on an island without warning, was almost night so you decided to go to your room, a little sad about the day.

So, half an hour later, Shanks lifted you up and forced you outside, to the night, and you saw how they had prepared a surprise party.

You almost slapped all of them for the secretism but you know you have a soft spot for these idiots.

Food, alcohol and cake passed among everyone and lasted all night.

Shanks took the moment when they all were drunk to be more affectionate and attentive with you, showing you how much love he was acumulating all day for the brithday girl

[semisasseater]

I don't like how you paint me― se-mi

⤷ Yet, I'm still here hanging

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst, hurt, romance for 1 second, drama| warnings : hurt, eavesdropping, self-doubt + insecurity, implied emotional neglect. | summary : Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you—until you overheard her conversation with Min-su The words cut deep, shattering the sense of belonging you thought you had. Heartbroken, you leave without a word. | wc: 1,174 | authors note : guys i have something to say.. i fucking LOVE gabby also do yall fw the new layout?

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

Se-mi’s apartment had always felt like home to you. Maybe that was your mistake.

Your hoodie hung on the back of her chair. Your toothbrush sat next to hers in the bathroom. Your makeup cluttered the counter, your perfume lingered in the air. Every little thing made it seem like this was your place too, like you belonged there just as much as she did.

But you didn’t. Not really.

Not after what you heard.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night—one of many spent by her side. You had been talking, laughing, feeling the warmth of her attention. But when you went to grab a drink, you stopped in your tracks at the sound of her voice.

“No, Min-su, you—ugh. You just don’t get it. She’s just… how do I say it? Too clingy.”

Your heart stopped.

Min-su’s voice was hesitant. “Noona, don’t you think that’s a bit rude?”

“I know it sounds rude and stuff, but she acts like a fan. She’s obsessed with me! Name one time she lasted a week without sleeping over at my house. Almost all her clothes and makeup and shit are at MY place! Why can’t she just—I don’t know? Min-su, I already have a lot on my plate right now! I don’t need a clingy girl just hanging around my apartment like she lives there! She’s always coming without my permission and shit! She’s too much, she’s annoying, she always—”

You didn’t stay to hear the rest.

You turned on your heel and walked out before you could hear another word.

Did she really think that?

Like a fan? Like an overbearing nuisance?

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you swallowed them back. You couldn’t fall apart here, not in front of people, not when you needed to move.

You hailed a cab and went straight to her apartment—the apartment that was supposed to be your second home. And the moment you stepped inside, you saw just how much of yourself you had left there.

Clothes in the closet. Shoes by the door. Your favorite mug in her cabinet. Your books on her shelves.

God. No wonder she felt suffocated.

For the next hour and a half, you packed. Every little thing that was yours, you shoved into bags. One by one, her apartment stopped looking like yours and started looking like hers again. When you were done, there were four full bags of your belongings sitting by the door.

It finally looked like Se-mi was living alone.

Just like she wanted.

You stood there for a moment, forcing a smile despite the way your heart ached. You were being ridiculous, right? You were clingy. You were overbearing. You had practically moved into her space without asking. This was your fault, wasn’t it?

Your phone buzzed.

You looked down and saw her name flashing across the screen, dozens of unread messages filling your notifications.

“Y/n? Baby? Where are you?”

“Y/n, where did you go?”

“Baby, this isn’t funny.”

“You said you were just getting a drink. Where are you?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Please come back.”

“Did you go back to the apartment?”

Your grip tightened around the phone. How ironic. She was acting worried now, like she hadn’t just been complaining about how much she wanted space from you.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

Instead, you walked.

The 30-minute walk back to your own place felt longer than ever. By the time you got home, exhaustion weighed on your body, but the ache in your chest hurt more. You took a shower, scrubbing yourself clean, washing away the scent of her that still clung to you.

And then you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, silent but unstoppable.

Did she ever love you the way you loved her?

Was it all just too much?

The buzzing of your phone woke you at 1 AM.

More texts. More missed calls.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me you left?!”

“Who picked you up?”

“Why’d you take your stuff? I was fine with it being here.”

“Y/n, just please tell me how you’re doing. I’m really worried.”

“Please, baby…”

“Y/n… I’m confused about all of this. You left the party randomly, then you took all your stuff back. What’s wrong?”

You laughed bitterly through your tears. What was wrong? Really?

You stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

“I heard you.”

And then you turned off your phone.

You needed to change.

You needed to be less.

Less clingy. Less needy. Less overbearing.

Even if it hurt, even if it meant suppressing everything, you would do it.

If it would make Se-mi happy—

If it would make her stop seeing you as a burden—

If it would make her love you again—

Then you would.

Even if it broke you.

@semisasseater

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[2:24 pm]

(cw: f!reader, suggestive, profanity, written on my phone so expect some typos)

“Baby, are you sure your big gave you permission to drive his car?” You asked fratboy!Jaehyun, eyes on him as he drove.

“Sweetheart, he basically begged me to take this baby for a spin! He asked me to water his plants, feed the dogs, and asked me to make sure the car was alright! A car like this needs to be taken out on a regular basis!” Jaehyun explained, his eyes not leaving the road ahead of the both of you.

Earlier today when Jaehyun had told you to come to the frat house, you hadn’t expected anything out of the ordinary. Even when he’d told you to make sure you were dressed up, you didn’t question it. It was pretty safe to say that you definitely weren’t expecting to see your boyfriend waiting for you while leaning against a Maserati! A sleek and shiny luxury car that had you wondering if cars were actually sexy like guys always talked about.

“Please don’t tell me you took out a loan for this. I know guys find cars sexy, but you’re smarter than this. Did you mix alcohols last night?” You asked with concern clear in your tone.

Jaehyun waved you off with a laugh and explained that his big, a major donor to the frat, had asked him to house sit for the week. That’s how you’d gotten here, in the leather passenger seat of the fanciest car you’d ever been in and on your way to a restaurant equally as fancy.

This restaurant Jaehyun had insisted on taking you to was about half an hour from campus, so while he focused on the road, you were in charge of directions. At least you were supposed to be, but how could you possibly focus on the screen of your phone when your boyfriend looked absolutely scrumptious behind the wheel?

He was in a crisp dress shirt, a bow tie around his neck with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other pinching his bottom lip gently while he hummed along to the song on the radio. “How far away is the exit, sweetheart?” He asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“Huh? Oh, um…” you looked at the screen of your phone in your hands, “oh shoot. It’s rerouting. The next exit is in 3 miles.”

“Alright, thanks, Sweets. I made a reservation for this place so we can’t be too late,” he tells you, leaning over to give your thigh a gentle squeeze.

With his touch you feel your heart pound even faster, face growing hot. Did he even know what the hell he was doing to you? Touching you, taking you on a spontaneous date, looking like a model right off the runway, and just being the best boyfriend ever. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of, everything any girl dreamed of.

This effect he had on you was something else completely. So strong and intense that you’d now missed the exit you were supposed to take and the next 4 that followed. You even make him accidentally take the wrong exit a couple times because you glance at the screen right after you miss the exit you’re supposed to take and panic as you tell him to take the next one, even if it’s the wrong one.

Jaehyun groaned, trying to keep himself calm despite how frustrated he was feeling,“Sweetheart, we have 5 minutes before we lose our reservation and we’re 15 minutes away. What is making you so distracted?! It’s not hard to look at your screen, Sweets, we do it all the time.”

You flush with embarrassment, “baby, I’m distracted!”

“Distracted by what?! Sweetheart I’m going to have to break a handful of driving laws to make it to this restaurant on time,” he sighs tiredly, trying to hide his frustration with you.

He was trying to be spontaneous! How often did a couple of college kids get to go to a restaurant this fancy? Never. Since his big was paying him pretty handsomely for house sitting, Jaehyun had figured he could treat you by taking you out to the nicest dinner both of you had ever shared. This was a big step up from the usual diners and small food shops you usually went to.

“But you just look so fucking good right now! How am I meant to be looking at a phone when I would so much rather be looking at you? Seriously, babe, you look so sexy. I don’t know if it’s the dress shirt or you behind the wheel but something is doing it for me,” you confess with hot cheeks.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to flush now, was the car hitter or was it just him? And then the next words that leave your lips have him wishing for the earth to swallow him whole. Very sweetly, very calmly, you ask, “do your think your big would know if we had sex in here?”

Jaehyun swerves the car, hearing multiple honks from his fellow drivers on the freeway. He swallows hard, eyes wide, “Sweetheart, you can’t just ask a guy that when he’s driving!”

You pout at him, reaching across the center console to hold his hand, “but you’re not just a guy. You’re my guy, you’re my boyfriend.”

“God, you’re going to be the fucking death of me, Sweetheart,” he sighs under his breath, then his back straightens and a smug smile comes over his handsome features, “I’m that distracting in a bow tie, huh?”

“Don’t let it get to your big head, take this exit,” you instruct with a playful roll of your eyes.

So that’s how you and Jaehyun find yourselves sitting across from each other with the finest food you’ve ever eaten. You have a happy smile on your face while you take another bite of the delicious food on your plate, and Jaehyun who sits across from you and wishes he’d never chosen a restaurant so far from home and chosen some looser dress pants. The things he does for you…

[dailyd0ses]

A Rose Without Thorns Pt. 2

Mama Rose from Gypsy on Broadway x Female Reader

The night stretched on, but for the first time in what felt like years, Rose slept.

It wasn’t a deep sleep—she tossed and turned, mumbling in her dreams, fingers twitching as if she were still conducting some unseen orchestra—but it was sleep nonetheless. And in the quiet hours before dawn, when the city outside your window softened into a gentle hum, you found yourself lying awake, thinking about the woman now resting under your roof.

Rose Hovick. The infamous stage mother, the woman who built stars and burned bridges, who had spent her life chasing dreams that never truly belonged to her. The same woman who, just hours ago, had been sitting on a cold bench with nowhere to go.

She was a force of nature. But even storms had to settle eventually.

By morning, the scent of fresh coffee filled the apartment. You were already up, seated at the small kitchen table, flipping idly through a newspaper when you heard the shuffle of footsteps.

"Smells good," Rose muttered, voice rough with sleep.

You glanced up to see her standing in the doorway, draped in her fur coat over the same dress from last night, though now slightly wrinkled. Her hair was tousled, but not in a careless way—it softened her somehow, made her look less like Madame Rose and more like just Rose.

"Hope you take it strong," you said, pushing a mug toward her.

She let out a tired chuckle as she sat across from you. "Darling, after the life I’ve had? The stronger, the better."

She took a sip and sighed, her whole body seeming to deflate just a little.

For a while, there was only the quiet sound of coffee cups clinking against saucers.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"So, what’s your story?"

You raised an eyebrow. "My story?"

"You took me in last night like it was nothing," she said, studying you over the rim of her mug. "Either you’re a saint, or you’ve got your own ghosts keeping you up at night."

You smirked. "Maybe both."

Rose hummed, as if she weren’t entirely convinced, but she let it go.

Instead, she leaned back, tapping her fingers against the side of her mug. "I don’t know what the hell I’m doing," she admitted.

"With what?"

She gestured vaguely. "With this."

You tilted your head. "With staying here?"

"With..." She hesitated, searching for the words. "With letting someone help me. With letting myself stop for once."

That caught your attention.

"You’ve never stopped before, have you?" you asked gently.

She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not once."

You studied her for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. "Maybe it’s time you did."

She scoffed. "And do what, exactly?"

You shrugged. "Figure out what you want. Not for June. Not for Louise. Not for show business. Just you."

Rose fell silent at that, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup.

It was a terrifying thought, wasn’t it? She had spent her whole life chasing dreams on behalf of others. What was left when there was no one left to chase for?

Finally, she exhaled, shaking her head. "You really are something, you know that?"

You grinned. "So I’ve been told."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but there was something else in her eyes now. A quiet curiosity. A shift.

"You could stay," you offered before you could stop yourself. "At least for a little while. Until you figure things out."

Rose arched an eyebrow. "Are you always this generous with broken women?"

"Only the interesting ones."

She let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. "You’re dangerous, kid."

You smirked. "Not half as dangerous as you."

For a long moment, she just looked at you, something unreadable flickering across her expression. And then, ever so slightly, she nodded.

"Alright," she murmured. "I’ll stay."

Rose stayed.

At first, it was temporary. A few days, she told herself. Maybe a week, just until she figured out her next step. But days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into something that neither of you bothered to name.

She made herself at home in small ways. Leaving her fur coat draped over the back of your couch. Setting her coffee cup in the sink but never actually washing it. Fixing the placement of your picture frames with an absentminded precision, as if she were arranging props for a show.

She still carried the weight of years spent fighting, pushing, demanding—but in your space, she started to ease, bit by bit.

One night, you found her in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing a dish with the same intensity as if she were directing an orchestra.

"You don’t have to do that, you know," you said, leaning against the doorway.

She scoffed. "What, you think I don’t know how to do dishes?"

"I think you’ve spent too many years having other people do them for you."

She smirked. "Well, maybe I’m finally learning to fend for myself."

"That’s assuming I kick you out," you teased.

Rose turned her head slightly, giving you a long, unreadable look. Then, to your surprise, she sighed and muttered, "You’d be a fool to keep me around, you know."

"Why’s that?"

"I ruin everything I touch." She rinsed the dish a little too forcefully, the water splashing over the sink. "Everyone leaves. Even when I give ‘em the world, they still go."

"You didn’t give them the world, Rose," you said gently. "You gave them a dream. There’s a difference."

She stiffened.

For a moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then, she let out a breath and shut off the sink.

"You’re a smart one, aren’t you?" she muttered.

You smiled. "So I’ve been told."

She grabbed a towel, drying her hands with slow, thoughtful movements. Then, she turned to face you fully, leaning against the counter.

"You never told me why you took me in that night," she said.

You shrugged. "Because you looked like you needed it."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it."

She studied you, her sharp gaze searching, as if trying to decipher a script that hadn’t been written yet.

"You know, I’ve never—" She stopped herself, clicking her tongue. "Ah, never mind."

You tilted your head. "Never what?"

She hesitated.

Then, with an almost defiant lift of her chin, she said, "Never been looked at the way you look at me."

The words settled in the air between you, delicate and dangerous all at once.

You swallowed, holding her gaze. "And how do I look at you?"

Rose exhaled sharply, like she couldn’t believe she was even having this conversation. "Like I’m more than just the mess I’ve made."

You took a step closer. Not too close—just enough to let her know you were listening. That you saw her.

"You are more than that," you said softly.

She didn’t look away.

For once, Rose—who had spent her whole life running, chasing, fighting—didn’t retreat.

Instead, she nodded. Just slightly. Just enough.

And for the first time in a long, long time, she allowed herself to believe it.

[daysoftheyears]

This is my first Hamzah fic ayeeee!! based off a request I got: "OKAY! what if helping Hamzah bleach his hair and it became something domestic. the reader thinks it would be ugly, but then the reader did not expect it to be so good 🙏"

Please let me know if you like this or theres anything I can change or fix

words: 700

Enjoy!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⋆

It had been a month and a few weeks after Hamzah had shaved his head and his hair had started to grow back pretty fast. You and him went out for dinner and he proposed an idea. 

“So babe, I was thinking that since my hair is growing back-” He paused and looked at you, as you bit into a burger. He continued his sentence, “Would you perhaps bleach my hair for me?” He smiled awkwardly at you, not knowing what you would say. You stopped chewing and looked at him. “Bleach? Your hair? Hamzah-” You went to go lecture him but he had cut you off. “Look babe I know what you're going to say but it would be cool and it would look good for the fight.”

You looked at him, almost a look of pity., “Hamzah I think it's going to look bad and like if im the one doing it I don't want to be responsible for making you ugly.” 

“It wont look ugly bro I promise! Pleaseee.” He jokingly made a pouty face like a kid would make after you told them no to candy. “We’ll see Hamzah” the rest of the night went smoothly and the subject wasn't brought up again.

The next morning you awoke to Hamzah shaking you up. 

“Babe c’mon get up bruh” You had sat up and rubbed your eyes, picked up your phone to read the time. 11:06 AM. “What do you need Hamzah?” He ran into the other room to grab something. He came back not even a minute later with a grocery bag with mystery items. 

“Look what I got.” He said with a smirk. He pulled out a bleach kit and some extra gloves. He threw them in your hands and smiled. “Bleach my hair now please.” Your tense shoulders had dropped following up with a sigh. “Hamzah, ill do it but I don't want to look at you after.”

“It wont look bad trust, I put a blond tiktok filter on last night so I basically know.” You held in a laugh and told him to wait 30 minutes. 

You sat him down in the bathroom and read the instructions for the bleach. “You’re gonna look like that one wig you have.” You laughed, “Stop you’re scaring me!” 

You put on the gloves and mixed the bleach together with the end of the brush. “Im not ready for this baby.” 

“Just dont fuck it up please.” He smiled in the mirror as you applied the bleach all over his hair. You wouldn't say it out loud, but you thought it was coming out nice. You took some pictures as he let the bleach sit in for half an hour. “Are you ready to wash it out?” you asked him as you started the shower. “Yea, do you think I'm gonna need to tone it?”

“I don't know, I've never bleached my hair before.” 

He stuck his head in the shower and you began to scrub his hair and wash the extra bleach out, 

“Hamzah, it's actually looking pretty good so far.” He couldn’t see you, due to his head being held under water, but you were smiling ear to ear. 

You finished washing it out and he dried his hair with a towel. Once it was fully dry you took a good look at him and his new era. “Yea you're definitely going to need some toner.”

“But it looks good tho, no?” He asked you with a goofy smile. “I guess.” You jokingly eye rolled giving him some sass. “Girl bye.” He copied your gesture, rolling his eyes playfully. “Im just joking! I think it looks handsome.” You whispered the last part and he put his hand next to his ear as if he didn't hear you. “Im sorry, you said what” His face was filled with amusement. 

“I said I think you look handsome.” You repeated louder. “And you thought it would look bad boi.” He leans down and kisses you, walking out the bathroom and into your shared room to facetime Martin about his hair. You looked in the mirror and sighed happily that you were wrong about it looking ugly.

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do a really angsty sister fic but with a cute ending but it’s very angsty

yesss! here ya go!

“Unnoticed”

Sturniolos x sister

Warnings : none rlly.

Y/N had always been the odd one out.

She knew her brothers loved her—of course, they did. But love and attention weren’t the same things, and lately, it felt like she had been completely erased from their world.

Chris, Matt, and Nick had each other. They always had. Three inseparable pieces of the same puzzle. And Y/N? She was just the extra. The fourth wheel in a group that never needed one.

At first, she tried to brush it off. They were busy, that was all. Filming, traveling, editing, working on their brand. She told herself it wasn’t personal.

But then the missed dinners started.

Then the unanswered texts.

Then the times she walked into a room only for them to leave moments later, too wrapped up in their own lives to notice her standing there, screaming on the inside.

She stopped trying.

If she didn’t reach out, would they?

If she didn’t show up, would they even notice?

Days turned into weeks, and it became painfully clear that the answer was no.

The final straw came on a night that should have been normal. She had been in her room for hours, curled up in bed, feeling the weight of her own insignificance pressing down on her chest. She wasn’t crying—she was past that.

Then she heard them downstairs, laughing. Loud, carefree, completely oblivious.

She checked her phone. Not a single message from any of them.

They were all together.

And she wasn’t even a thought in their heads.

Something inside her snapped.

She grabbed her jacket and slipped out the front door without bothering to text them. It wasn’t like they’d care.

It was cold. The wind stung her skin, but she barely felt it. Her legs carried her forward, away from the house, away from the suffocating loneliness that had settled in her bones.

She ended up at an empty park, sitting on the swings, her hands gripping the rusted chains as she stared blankly ahead.

She wanted to disappear.

Not in a dramatic way—she didn’t want to die or anything. She just wanted to stop existing in this way. Half-there. Half-seen. Half-loved.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it. Probably just some random notification.

But then it buzzed again. And again.

Frowning, she pulled it out.

Chris: Where are you?

Matt: Y/N, answer the phone.

Nick: Are you okay? Where’d you go?

A bitter laugh bubbled up in her throat. Now they noticed? Now they cared?

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket, ignoring the way her hands trembled.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Then—footsteps. Rushed, frantic. And suddenly, all three of them were there, panting, their faces pale with worry.

Chris was the first to speak. “What the hell, Y/N?” His voice was sharp, but his eyes were soft. Scared. “You just left without saying anything!”

Y/N stared at them, expression blank. “You would’ve noticed eventually.”

Matt flinched. “Of course we would have—”

“Would you?” she interrupted, her voice cracking. “Because I don’t think you would’ve. I don’t think you would’ve even realized if I stayed in my room for days, or if I stopped coming home at all.”

Silence.

Nick took a shaky breath. “Y/N… that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” she whispered, feeling the lump in her throat grow. “I’m invisible to you guys. I’m just there—some extra piece that doesn’t fit. And you don’t even see me.”

Chris stepped forward, guilt written all over his face. “Y/N, we—”

She shook her head. “I used to be your sister. Now I’m just a background character in your lives.” Her voice broke on the last word, and she hated herself for it.

Matt looked like he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Because she was right.

And they all knew it.

Nick ran a hand over his face, looking like he was about to cry. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “We never meant to make you feel like this. We just—” He exhaled shakily. “We fucked up.”

Chris swallowed hard, his hands balling into fists. “You’re not invisible to us, Y/N.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You’re our sister. Our baby sister. And we love you more than anything. We just… we got so caught up in everything else that we didn’t realize we were pushing you away.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes, shaking her head. “I don’t need some guilt-driven apology.”

Matt stepped closer, his voice gentle. “We’re not just apologizing. We’re fixing this. Because you’re right—we haven’t been there for you. And that’s not okay.”

Nick nodded. “We miss you, Y/N. And we’re not letting this happen again.”

Chris hesitated for only a second before pulling her into a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair.

And for the first time in forever, she felt seen.

Matt and Nick wrapped their arms around them too, holding her tightly, as if afraid she’d slip away if they let go.

She sniffled. “You guys are so annoying.”

Chris chuckled, his voice muffled. “Yeah, but we’re your annoying brothers.”

A small, watery smile tugged at her lips. Maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so invisible after all.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

As someone who wants to join the fandom more but it’s too scared to do so, I’m wondering how did you cultivated this community…? It’s so sweet to watch the way you talk to others and helping their works and such. How did you meet like…??? people ??? Like I always see you tagging the artists (ngl I found your blog because of Gomz) and I’d really want to learn, I’ve tried joining previous fandoms and it was always too competitive in some sense, like everyone was busy pushing their works for likes and retweets (maybe it’s more of a twitter thing)

Oh yeah. That's a Twitter thing. Twitter is a cesspit and I only go there for porn. The whole thing is set up to make people feel shite because people that feel shite scroll for longer/look at more adverts. Lock your account, bud. You'll feel a lot better.

But everywhere else? Gratitude and humility. Also, understanding what I wanted from fandom; a small community that hypes each other and encourages new people. Those are my bros (non-gendered). My Cakeshop Bros I found five years ago in fandom; they have slept in my spare bedroom, I've gone drinking, played boardgames, and we laid on the floor in London in a space art installation near Soho being weirdos drunk off our heads. Not just fandom friends now, friends for life.

When I first started posting for CoD, I was dead nervous as I'd been stung in a previous fandom. People took a chance on me as a new person; they reblogged my work with the sweetest tags. They hyped me. They took the time out of their day for a stranger, and they didn't have to. They coulda just read it and moved on. So, I said thank you in their inbox, or in their DMs. We started talking more, I was a bit weird and they vibed back. They are also good people. Genuinely. You mentioned Gomz; literally, so kind, so sweet. Deserves the world.

When I can, I make sure I hype them back; I wish I could do more but my job is absolute pig in terms of time. It's mock season (now over, woohoo) so I have a backlog of fics to catch up on - Nekro, Mikey, T, Oliv, Nikkie, Hexx, Gomz (who I deffo know have written), but there are probably more! I'll set a few hours aside over half term with a beer and crack on.

Also, I guarantee everyone is as nervous as you are. Everyone gets imposter syndrome. And also, everyone gets jealous. Jealousy is a natural human emotion that you need to process into something productive. "I'm jealous" = "this person is really fucking good, has worked hard, I'm gonna encourage them and learn from them because they clearly know their shit". Reframing rather than ignoring or letting it fester. They're just people after all and probably shitting themselves as much as I was.

I also guarantee you I am not everyone's cup of tea. And that's ok. Letting go of the burning desire to be liked by all, sometimes at the expense of my own bloody happiness and seeing it as a personal failing if I wasn't, was probably one of the most powerful things I did for myself over the last five years. The only thing I care about in regards to others is if I acted with integrity and kindness (not necessarily niceness). That's all I can control.

Sorry, mate. That came off as a bit of a rant! But uh, don't be scared. Keep reaching out. Be feral.

[doctorgirlsblog]

Merz Prinzessin vs. Dutch Lion (series)

Part 10: Red flags and promises to God

Special note: @m4xgirlie this one is posted for you 💙 thank you for being amazing

The race was going amazingly, as Aria managed to overtake Max in the first half, because he locked up, so he ended up losing a couple of positions. She stayed in front, unaware of the drama behind and his furious driving to get back on top. When her radio crackled and Elena's measured voice spoke gently but shakily, she couldn't help but be confused.

"Red flag, red flag. Aria, please drive slowly back to the garage."

Her heart dropped at the words.

"Elena what happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Drive to garage, we will talk then."

Aria drove back to her garage slowly, getting out as soon as the car was inside. She ripped her helmet off and stormed over to Elena, trying to get a glimpse of the screens. Dirt made it impossible to see which car ended up in the wall.

"Elena, what happened?"

"Max crashed. They're still trying to contact him," Elena kept explaining it, but Aria's ears were buzzing, and she could hardly make out the line of her lips moving before she collapsed on the ground.

Max crashed. Max wasn't responding.

She didn't realise that she was crying and shaking, as someone's arms got wrapped around her, pulling her closer. Elena kept soothing the girl, trying to talk to her, but Aria kept starring at the screen, looking at his crashed car, with no motion from inside it.

He might be... She never told him the truth. It was her fault. Her fault. Max crashed.

With newfound adrenaline, she stood and sprinted toward the track, where a medical team surrounded the car. They held her back. She screamed, falling into the arms of stewards. She watched as they pulled him out, unconscious.

No, this can't be the end. It can't. He never heard how much she loves him, how sorry she was.

Elena pulled her away, persuading her to drive her to the clinic where he was being taken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aria was a shadow of herself. Silently staring ahead, she prayed every prayer in her head, with tears still rapidly falling down her face. She sat in the waiting room, waiting for something, anything. After what seemed like hours, doctor stepped out, nodding to her to go inside.

She quickly rose from her seat, but time seemed to slow as she looked at him. His heart monitor beeped, a tube aided his breathing, and dark bruises were already appearing on his body.

She managed to collapse into the chair beside his bed, hearing the door close behind her. She took a long look at his bruised face and then broke down. Sobs and whimpers could be heard outside. She was holding his hand like a lifeline, her fingers sliding across the bandaged cut.

Her voice came out more as a whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Liebe. You didn't deserve this, not because of me. Please wake up; you need to. I... if you..." She couldn't finish that thought aloud. "I can't live without you. I never could. I chose you, in every life, in every time. I love you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But Max wasn't waking up. Days went by, people came and went, but Aria was there every single minute. He was gone. Max was still there, same old Max, but he was gone.

She started to lose the hope that held her these days. She didn't know what to do anymore, because there wasn't much that she could do for him. Older nurse stepped towards her, speaking gently, trying to get the girl out of her head. "Sweetie, maybe you should go and pray for him. It could help. God is always here."

Her teary eyes snapped toward the older, sweet woman looking down at her, and she managed to nod weakly. She showed her the way to the small chapel inside the private wing. It was her last straw. She sighed.

"Please, God. Just let him live. Bring him back. I promise I will stay away from him; I will never hurt him again. I'll let him be happy. I will learn to love Lando the right way. Just bring him back, please. He can't die. Not him." She was sobbing so hard that she didn't hear the rapid breathing of the girl running into the chapel.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and her head snapped up. Max's sister was standing above her, looking down at her teary face.

"Aria.." she said slowly.

Her heart dropped. No. No. It can't be.

"Vic..no..he isn't..did he.."

"Shh, Aria, no. Max is starting to wake up."

Aria's head snapped up to the cross. Maybe God did hear her. Maybe miracles do happen after all.

This one, however, she knew, comes with a price to pay.

She looked at Victoria again, rapidly grabbing her hands. "Vic, you have to listen to me very carefully."

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

She kept crying the whole flight back home. Charlotte's gentle voice broke through the silence on the phone, after she called her telling her that Max woke up and she was coming back home.

"I don't get you, really Ari. You haven't left his side for a week, but the minute he finally wakes up like a bloody miracle, you run away?!"

Aria didn't answer it, muterring quick goodbye before she hang up. She knew the promise she made and intended to keep it whatever it took. Any sacrifice was worth seeing him live.

She shakily opened her chat with Lando, texting him quickly.

Aria: "I'm sorry for leaving like that. If you do accept me back, after everything, I'm willing to make this work. This time for real. I love you."

Words felt bitter and stabbed at her heart, but after she saw Max dead and alive, nothing felt important as the pact she felt she made with God. Answer came almost instantly.

Lando: "I'm here love. I love you."

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Max was fully awake, surrounded by his family, but the one person he secretly wished for, wasn't there. Not like he was expecting her to be. Instead of her, his eyes snapped to his wrist, where the bracelet with golden "A" was snapped tightly around it. Same one she always wore, not taking it off even for races. What is this supposed to mean?

"What is this? Was Aria here?" He asked his sister, confused.

"Max,.." Victoria spoke softly, "she was here every day. She left that to me when you woke up, saying to take care of it. Then she left."

"What? Why?"

She felt bad for lying to him, seeing his confused expression. But Aria made herself pretty clear.

"She didn't say anything else Max. Sorry."

"Give me my phone."

"Max.."

"Now, Vic."

The number you are trying to reach cannot be dialed.

Instagram: no results found

Facebook: no results found

X: no results found

This message cannot be delivered.

Max sighed. She disappeared from the face of the earth, leaving only that damn bracelet behind. Why, Max couldn't decipher.

"Vic, give me your phone please."

"Max, maybe it's for the best that you don't look for her. She obviously doesn't want to talk to you."

"Phone, Vic. Now." His sister sighed, but gave him the phone nonetheless.

He opened Aria's Instagram, confirming she had blocked him on everything. What he didn't expect was that everything was deleted from her account except one old photo of her and Lando kissing; she wearing his hoodie.

She chose him. That much he knew. But why would she have been by his side all these days, then? He felt a headache creeping in.

Why was she playing these games again?

Wasn't the first time enough?

Hasn't she hurt him enough?

Victoria looked at him from where she sat, before reading Aria's message.

Aria: "Is he doing okay?"

Victoria: "Physically, yes. Emotionally, no. He's looking for you."

Aria: "You didn't tell him anything, right?"

Victoria: "No. I promised you that I won't tell anything. But this is childish, Aria."

Aria: "No. He won't ever find out and that's final. I'll stay in touch. Love you Vics."

As she stepped out of her building, Aria tucked her phone back in her pocket, grabbing Lando's hand.

"Ready baby?"

"Ready as ever Lan."

"Good. Let's go then."

All of her things were already moved to his place, so as they sat in his car ready to leave, only thing missing was a key.

"Here, love. I made you a copy this morning," Lando said, as if reading her mind, as he handed her a key with an already attached keychain.

"Just what I needed." She smiled softly at him, flipping the key between her fingers as they drove off.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Max, on the other hand, was currently receiving different kind of gift from his doctor as he was being discharged.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Verstappen, but you will have to withdraw from racing for the remainder of the season."

Tag list:

@m4xgirlie

@amz824

@samriddhisingh

@aykxz98

[simplyghosting]

I need to win the lotto so I can buy cute bedding

[coridallasmultipass]

brocal for the ship bingo?

The OTP to end all other OTPs... (Man. This wound up being basically Cori's Masterpost of BroCal. AKA... this got long and has some images, since I realized I can post my own art directly instead of just a text link to it lol.)

Wasn't actually expecting this to wind up with a bingo? But I got basically 2?? (Will explain the lighter heart later.) This is A LONG post, and definitely gonna get SUGGESTIVE, bc man, am I obSESSED with BroCal. I'm just gonna go thru each checked box, since I don't know how else to structure this post lol.

Read More to save ppl's dashboards:

I want them to make out with blood: OKAY. I HAVE A WHOLE THING PLANNED FOR THIS CONCEPT. I AM NOT GOING TO GO INTO DETAIL ABOUT IT JUST YET BC I ACTUALLY WANNA WRITE IT. I'm obsessed with this one fanart of Bro licking Lil Cal, and it spurred on an idea I outlined and really wanna write: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/739969858334294016/hiiii-mutual-i-am-secrecy-asking-if-u-have-anymore

((Sorry for the plain text links, Tumblr app is NOT cooperating with me right now to add hyperlinks. I'd post the image directly if that one was mine.))

Basically, I just really need to see Bro and Cal making out with blood in their mouths, and I started a whole convoluted, unrelated outline in order to make that hapen. It'll probably just be a really short thing that ends at the uh climax, since otherwise it's gonna end up sadstuck. And I don't like sadstuck lol.

Undeniably t4t: Bro and Dirk are always trans for me, and Lil Cal's got that uh... what percentage did I calculate it out to be? 13% of Dirk is in Lil Cal [ My shitpost calculations: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/746702663327072256/i-ran-out-of-tags-rambling-about-this-so-im-just ] so Lil Cal is at least 13% trans because of that much of Dirk being in him, plus however you feel about the other components being trans. LMAO this is ridiculous to type out. Moving on.

EDIT: FUTURE CORI INTERJECTING WITH A:

"Lil Cal Top Surgery Healing Progess: Day 1"

Terrible for each other affectionate/derogatory: I don't even know where the affectionate/derogatory split occurs. I multiship BroCal as both Bro/normal puppet Lil Cal and as Bro/evil juju puppet Lil Cal, and whatever combination in between or outside of that. Terrible in that Bro is so obsessed with Cal that he doesn't have normal relationship/social skills and uses Lil Cal as both a crutch and motivator alternately, in a terrible cycle, or maybe rather... spiral. And also terrible in that Bro is caught in the allure of playing the role of puppeteer while also being a puppet for the darker parts of Lil Cal, whether he actively knows it or not. (Honestly though, I feel like it's dismissive if you try to blame all of Bro's faults on Lil Cal like this tho, which is why I tend towards liking Lil Cal as just a regular puppet a lil bit more. Or at least, a regular mildly supernatural puppet since that can be a little more entertaining if Cal can get into mischief while no one's looking or give off the vibes of his mood more directly, rather than like entirely inanimate or 'just LE, trapped in a puppet body.' Again, I like all of these concepts.) ((I mean that can also be a whole post of its own, like, by the time Bro gets ahold of Lil Cal, are any of the other components still alive in there? Like, are ARquius and Gamzee still in there or did Caliborn kill and consume them entirely? Idk how it works, man. This is why I like Lil Cal as his own person, maybe just influenced by the feelings of the others. LaCroix: CalGamARquius essenced water. Lil Croix.))

They need to get weirder with it: YES YES. 1000% YES. I need entirely shameless Bro doing entirely shamless things to Lil Cal. I want them inseparable and doing unspeakable things to each other. I want Bro taking full advantage of Cal having a puppet body and all the intimacy that comes with making repairs and being elbow-deep in stuffing.

Playing with them like dolls cute/psychological torture: This is the same divide as with the 'terrible for each other' point, so I'm just gonna go with the cute one, since the torture one is self-explanatory. I want them fucking married. Like. Full mushy cute romance type of relationship that Bro has never felt for any of the people in his life (cough aromantic cough). I made this comic not too long ago, and I often fondly look back on it, because I adore the concept of Bro being lovey and romantic and everything out of character around Lil Cal because he feels safe and loved and comfortable around Cal:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/750602227910131712/brocal-4-lyfe-so-i-had-this-idea-of-dave-being ]

I made a post a long, long time ago (not gonna link that one bc it was personal and I was being very obviously mentally ill ["C'mon, like you're not being obviously mentally ill while typing paragraph upon paragraph about BroCal still in 2024 like 10 years later??" Fair.]) But the gist of it was that, like, having objectophilia or objectum sexuality is like, from an outsider pov, it's a way to express love to yourself. You filter all your self-hate through the object you love, and you get back unconditional love in return.

Lil Cal is never gonna hate Bro, no matter what Bro does. As a regular puppet, Lil Cal doesn't have the capacity for hate. And so that only brings them closer, since Cal is never gonna reject Bro for any reason. (Back to being a crutch. RSD is real, and Dave is probably a big trigger for that since he's not on the same wavelength of weird as Bro [not blaming Dave, obviously, this is a post about BroCal].) Bro can experience receiving positive attention from Lil Cal, without feeling 'fake' or uncool by expressing that same attention or affection directly to his own self. (Things are always done through multiple layers with the Striders, aren't they?) ((And I'm not saying Lil Cal doesn't love Bro, or that their relationship is just pretend - it's real, I'm just like, 'What's going on behind the curtain in the mundane situation?/ How is the relationship appealing?' Lil Cal luvs Bro 5eva 4 lyfe and that's a hard fact. Could cut diamonds with that shit.)) Example: maybe Bro is dealing with a bout of body/gender dysphoria and is trying to take out his frustration with working out, and it's not helping, even if he's powered through a set better than normal. Then, he notices the way Lil Cal is watching him, and he can feel the excitement seeping off Cal. He can sense the echoes of a wolf-whistle ring out through his mind, and it's like. Okay, none of that shit from before matters, he's got all the validation he needs right there in Lil Cal. Maybe flex in Cal's direction, Bro?

Oh, so back to being cute: isn't it wonderful how the template maker phrased it as 'playing dolls'? But yeah, I want all the mush and everything. Bro has a whole wardrobe for Lil Cal for every minor event that occurs in the Strider household. I want them going on genuine dates. Maybe even... holding hands. Bro blushes for the first time since he was 16. He even gets to take Lil Cal with him when he goes out to DJ or put on a show. Not to mention the whole website business. (I've talked about Cal's role in that before, but I'll mention it in a moment...)

They will die in a heart shaped pool of blood: I mean, kinda did happen, even tho Lil Cal didn't perma die right there. I don't think this one needs any explanation, since it basically happens in canon.

'You should see the other guy...': Okay, so. About 11 years ago, I had a really great idea. About how smuppets enter this world. I expanded on it in the following more-recent post (adult only content lol): https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741683686717669376/back-in-the-day-my-friends-called-me-insane-when-i

To sum it up, whenever Bro makes a new smuppet design, he then gives it a video debut on his website, where uh, Lil Cal births the smuppet like it's a horror movie scene, fake blood and poly-fil gore all over the place as the smuppet crawls out from the viscera. Bro then gets to play aftercare by lovingly and gently cleaning up and restuffing Lil Cal as they get to admire their new creation and rake in the dough lol.

So it's technically not a 'you should see the other guy' kinda situation, but it does involve one of them being... idk what word would describe it. Injured by the other? Usually a character loses a fight and says this to act like they got out of it better than the other guy, but... We could have someone knock on the door during the filming of a scene like that, and Bro has to answer it with fake blood up to his elbows, and be like 'You should see the other guy.' (But obviously, that's a terrible idea and would cause more trouble than it's worth... Maybe worth it for a persistent door to door salesperson, though.)

Though, I guess I should also say, I'm not opposed to Bro beating on Lil Cal in or out of the bedroom. Or in the case of animate Lil Cal, Cal choking out Bro. In or out of the bedroom, lol. Depends on the situation, like I said I will ship this ship any which way. But my preference for animate Lil Cal is to be like a totally normal puppet around Bro (or mushy in-love with Bro) and then evil-murder-puppet towards anyone else in Bro's life, like a... toxic yaoi guard puppet. (New Phrase Achievement Unlocked!) Bro brings home another guy to have sex, who tries to stay the night due to the late hour, but the guy wakes up shortly after to see Lil Cal standing there with a knife in the dark, eyes glowing red. Panic ensues when the guest screams and freaks out, and by the time Bro's got a light on, grabbing his sword, ready for a ninja vs ninja fight (bc an intruder would've had to bypass all the traps), Lil Cal is just innocently splayed across the desk chair, no knife in sight. Relevant post (well, the caption on the post too, saying how Bro can't seem to hold onto any relationships besides Lil Cal):

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/741830516962164736/i-want-you-so-youre-mine-always-selfishly ]

Uh, lol, also Cal choking out Bro in the bedroom, adult only drawing: https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/754328907438800896/i-wouldnt-wanna-be-my-ex-when-he-found-out-who

Thinking about them always and forever: Listen. My Tumblr as proof, I've had BroCal on the brain for at least 11 years at this point. Definitely longer, since I first started reading Homestuck. I fucking love puppets and dolls and plushies and I always have. Man, if I hadn't deleted Tweets (automated app I used to do, and I couldn't choose what to save) from when I was in high school, you could've seen me @ ing my fave band when they were taking lyric suggestions on a fan-inspired album, where I was telling them 'make a song where the theme is puppets' and, while I don't know if they saw that or took the suggestion (they had responded to me before bc they weren't huge yet), there is indeed a song titled "Puppets" on that album, and it was my favourite song on there. Point is, I was fated to ship BroCal before I even knew it existed.

Sicko 2 sicko communication: I mean, does this even need explaining? Bro and Cal aren't just on the same wavelength of freaky, they're the fucking source of the wavelength, and it's causing a feedback loop between them. And it does as feedback does, which is, it amplifies with time. (Going back to the spiral symbolism here, lol.) ((Actually, time can play a symbol here, too, I guess, but idk how to word it, I'm starting to run out of steam.))

Let them have a happy ending: God, I need this so badly. I know Bro's story ends in Homestuck, but like. Pls. Someone needs to officiate their wedding. Currently placing the dreambubble order, but I can't organize a wedding by myself. OH speaking of. In that lil comic I did above, where Bro is accepting Lil Cal's proposal, I had the Natural Born Killers wedding scene in mind. I was gonna draw that as a follow up, but I think I have too many WIPs going. Just two people on the run, saying "I do" in a scenic but completely ordinary roadside location. Idk why, I keep going back to that movie for things related to Bro (I mention it in a very important scene in a longer WIP I've been writing, as something Bro watched and internalized as a kid lol.) It's not the best movie lol. Anyway.

The devotion omg: I feel like I have already gotten my point across about this, but let me reiterate:

[ https://coridallasmultipass.tumblr.com/post/735842968450269184/in-the-name-of-iconic-magical-girl-anime-ill ]

Bro and Lil Cal absolutely beat the shit outta Jack Noir before he gets prototyped. And even then, they fight together till the death, like. C'mon. Nothing more romantic than fighting a losing battle side by side. Also, like, Lil Cal having his own protective chest for safekeeping as seen in the Strider living room? Like, you don't just have a protective case for any old thing, especially something meant to be handled, especially something that is regularly used to smack other things/humans. What I'm saying is, Lil Cal is durable and resilient, and yet, Bro still has a case for transporting Cal safely. Oh, wait, I just thought of something funny, what if Lil Cal goes feral like a cat, and basically the chest is like a cat carrier so Bro can drive without being constricted lmaoooo, I've been typing for hours can you tell?

Kind of homophobic: Listen. I HAD a Cal. Took him to college. Staked my claim on the top bunk bc I am royalty. Proceeded to not have anywhere to set my water cup and had to use a cardboard box as a table up there. Spilled water. Melted Cal's sharpie-drawn face. And then proceeded to cry. I have a WIP of Lil Cal 2, but that requires actually remembering to work on him. I wanna do better by the pattern, too, since I rushed to finish the first. I have all the material! I have the project started! So it's just a matter of reordering my WIP priorities, honestly.

Where is all the fucking content?!: For realzz. I was actually venting about this the other day (didn't end up posting it), but it's like, either there's no BroCal content, or there IS BroCal content, but I can't reblog it for reasons I don't want to get into on this post. I'm dying of thirst in the ocean, basically. Whatever. This just means I need to make more BroCal content myself, which I am more than happy to do. I've just had a rough past few months, so I'm glad I got to type all this post out, and hopefully I can get back to creating soon.

Last one! I hope this one makes up for the absurd length of the post, it's prob my new fave idea I just came up with on the spot.

[TW drink spiking by a stranger mentioned in this.]

Committing atrocities as their silly little activities: I think we all know what this means, but I am going to ignore that elephant with my special x-ray vision. Because this is a BroCal post. I'm digging deep to the meat and bones of this. Honestly, this could go multiple routes, it depends on how you take your Lil Cal.

One could place emphasis on the 'guard' part of the, ahem ahem, toxic yaoi guard puppet. Maybe someone is actually trying to harm Bro, and Bro legit can't do anything for reasons outside of his control - let's say his drink got spiked a while after he invited a stranger home that he thought was chill. As Bro gets shoved down on the futon, his memory of the night is only a few flickers. Familiar orange plush, roiling around above him like a dancing windsock. Flashes of Lil Cal's face all distorted and stretched wide like a funhouse. J-Lo and Ice Cube on the TV. But when Bro is finally able to fully wake up in the morning, everything is as if he just got home alone last night and passed out on the futon. Cal looks totally normal and content tucked under Bro's warm arm. Except when Bro gets up, there is a pair of shoes too big to belong to him at the door. Maybe Bro knows. Maybe instinct tells him to run. Maybe he does, but he's running towards Lil Cal, every time.

[tj-crochets]

okay crafting is probably delayed again I possibly overdid it today and had another flareup of Weird Bad but it did not result in Unexpected Floor Time this time so I think I'm getting better?

[gwinverarrouz]

Artfight attack for my friend Verefluctus, their character Alyona! This is the drawing that took me the longest (at least 10 hours)! I included backstory elements within the borders :>

Some WIPs just because:

[pandaspwnz]

Whoever decided it was a good idea to bake a pie on a fucking wednesday afternoon is a goddamn clown and should be dropkicked into the sun

[eclown]

are these your ghouls ma'am.

ghouls implying its normal and fine to say "kill yourself" to people and implying youd send this shit to a minor? or that youd have to be a teenager to even get upset at someone telling other people to kill themselves? how do people on tumblr still think you were banned for nothing

[orcelito]

Getting ready for bed now. Ended up taking no nap. Realized that I have gotten about 4 hours of sleep over the past 58 hours. Which is not recommended.

Also realized upon taking them off that id been wearing my glasses for Most of the past 23 ish hours. Maybe closer to 22 hours (for shower and such). My ear kinda stung a lil when I took it off. Which made me realize how long I'd been wearing them but ALSO the fact that they HAVENT been hurting my ears in daily wear. For a while there, wearing them for too long would make my ears Hurt. Hell, I literally ended up getting scabs on my nose where they rested. But it seems like my body has been adjusting to them... it is accepting that we are a glasses wearer now... this is a marvelous realization