#oh yeah y

[uncharted-constellations]

The Princess and Hero of the First Great Calamity

The orange snoot is very important to me….

[batcii]

I think it's been crossposted already but guess I should post this here as well! The cover for The Raven Boys graphic novel I have been working on for the last couple of years is finally out! If you're wondering why I haven't posted art in a while it's because all I've been doing is drawing these kids non-stop (in between teaching, and pottery, and following my chickens around).

It has been such a pleasure to work on and an enormous amount of pressure to get them just right. It's an impossible but worthy goal, and as a fan of the books myself I know just how much people care about this series. I hope once you get to see it in August 2025 you'll be rewarded for the wait. You can read more about the book here, and find preorder links here.

[ping-ski]

speak no evil, see no evil, hear... all evil???

@lilakwii i hope u enjoy this little gift since u like sun so much hehe :3

LDR belongs to @spadillelicious !

[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[leafwateraddict]

Couldn’t stop thinking about Dust being able to pass as Classic. So I had an idea where Dust replaces Classic in a timeline and steals(?) his partner.

He gets conflicted when he starts actually caring about you… But denial is an easy road to take when there’s seemingly no consequences to your actions.

The reveal i guess. Most normal reaction to learning your partners been replaced for god knows how long and you have no clue where he is.

Now that I think about it I might’ve gotten some inspiration from that one chapter of IJAG by @htsan (iykyk) only a lil bit tho

(Full rambling of the idea + extra sketch cuz i liked the expression) ↓↓

I originally wanted y/n to notice the differences instantly but i think it would be angstier if they didn’t and only noticed like months later >:3

[roseofdarkness0]

"...."

". . .'

Sluuuuuuuuuuurp

"Louisiana oh my god I will murder you"

"I thought you were agnostic?"

"AND I THOUGHT YOH WOULDNT BE DUMB ENOUGH TO START FIRE IN THE HOUSE IN STATE KNOWN FOR WILDFIRES"

"Well that's on you and I'm horribly offended you thought I wouldn't try to bake those cookies as fast as possible"

"He ain' wrong sha"

"Louisiana I swear I will-"

"Excuse me, is this your house?"

All three states stopped their bickering to look at the firefighter that approached with troubled look on his face. Hysterically, California recognised the 118 on red background of the helmet and prayed to all that could have mercy on him that LA wasn't working dispatch today.

They will be in deeper shit with Gov anyway and he wasn't looking forward to adding teasing on top of that.

Louisiana clearing his throat and Florida not so gentle nudge paused him back to the reality, blushing he cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yes that's our shared house, we have other roommates and such-but anyway, how bad is the damage?" Cal asked with hesitation clear in their voice.

"Well good news is that damage was swiftly contained just to the kitchen and parts of living room"

"But?"

"But, it is concerning that despite the sprinklers being installed, they didn't go off nor did the smoke alarm"

"Oh! I know why!" Florida spoke brightly which made even Loui a tad uneasy and Cal hoped for the earth to split open and swallow him whole, "I took the batteries out and messed with the system!"

"Mai sha!"

"I-what?"

"Flo!!!! Why???"

"It made shrilling noises when I tried to do open flame roast gator tail! And sprinklers only killed whatever fire I had going!" Florida huffed and pouted as he kicked some rocks away "and it was supposed to be nice surprise dinner for Loui!"

"Aww-"

"No!!! Not aww!!!! We have designated backyard area for stuff like this for a reason! And I know you you use it! Real reason Flo!" Cal glared at Florida, nostrils flaring in anger.

"..... Fine, late night booze making with few others which. When we were burning some of the flavours into alcohol the smoke detector would go off but we didn't want Gov on our asses so I messed with it"

"Of course you di-" Capitan interrupted Cal incoming rant and brought them back on to topic at hand.

"... Right that was very informative but I'm afraid I might need to get LAPD involved. At least to confirm that it was just cookies this time aaand if there was some alcohol making, then we'll, I sure hope it was for fuel" Captain gave them a smile and wink.

Louisiana chuckled at that whilst Florida did full body cackle.

"Like a true Minne¹! I like you funny man!'

"Wh-how did you-"

"HEY CAP!"

Group was once again startled by arrival of another firefighter who immediately got 'Cap' attention telling and pointing to something which gave the three states time to assess the situation and how to bullshit it to Gov.

Louisiana was content to just let Cal worry about all of that whilst he made sure that Florida wouldn't run off to bother one of his alligators² that arrived to the scene in the cop car which made the captain leave to greet them when their original distractor made... well, even bigger distraction.

"I knew I recognised your voices!" The man with strange birthmark over one of his eyes exclaimed triumphantly whilst pointing wildly at them. "I saw you two at some of the bars I bartender when I was in Louisiana and Florida!" Which, not like they could dispute it or anything cause he and Florida would be too drunk to remember anyway. "And you! I helped you" the young man pointed wildly at confused California "I helped you hitchhike away from your arson case! And that body over cliff burning! Man you gotta spill how you did that!"

Cal gaped, Florida froze, then gasped dramatically at Cal and Louisiana just raised his eyebrows at the new titbit of information they just received.

"uh well-"

"FLORIDA WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"COOKIES!!!"

Well then, time to face the music-

"IN THE NAME OF ALL THATS HOLY WHY?!"

"BECAUSE SONIC!!!"

"WHAT?!"

"oH!!!! AND AND!!!" Florida pounced on Gov, nearly making them both tumble to the ground. "Cal may be a murderer! So we need more celebratory cookies!!!"

"W H A T ?!!!"

Or maybe he should just go to the nearest drive through for daiquiri

Florida: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

California: No, that's not how you make cookies.

Louisiana: FLOOR IT!!

Florida: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

California: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN-

Florida: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!

Louisiana: DO IT!

California: NO-

[007reid]

request for reader having dated spencer (early seasons) and then she finds out what happened w lila </3

hi hi hi!! sorry this took a while hun :( you were vague with your req so i just wrote whatever i wanted to write and because of that i meant for this to be a drabble but it didn't work out that way... enjoy!

secrets. spencer reid

part 1 | part 2

pairing: spencer reid x jealous fem!reader, 1.8k

summary: spencer will never be able to escape the effortless wrath of derek morgan, not even when it's the weekends and breaking bad is playing and you're pulling on his hair.

warnings: no smut you filthy animals, though i did intend there to be smut im just in a fluffy mood rn :// tiny angst if you squint, spencer's blushin a LOT, morgan's evil, bickering and just cutesy couple stuff. me when.

spencer’s secret was the last thing that you were, and you know this.

you and spencer have been dating for three months now, not including the two months talking stage because spencer is deadly afraid of commitment, and between all that time, you’d say you’ve gotten to know spencer pretty well. you know him well enough to trust that he knows what’s best, anyway. it’s been three months, and spencer hasn’t uttered a word about you to his team, his family, and you understand why.

really. you do.

“they’ll never let me live in down,” spencer had whined, one person imminent on his mind. derek fucking morgan. spencer dreads just thinking about it, the teasing, the inappropriate jokes, the winks and the whistles. it’s dehumanizing. “when someone ask me or mention something about it, i will tell them. until then…”

the unspoken reason was there. spencer’s a talker, definitely a talker, but he doesn’t spend much time talking about himself. he never reveals a bit of himself unless he’s directly asked it, and he feels uncomfortable sharing otherwise. the team’s too used to spencer being physically and emotionally repellent to the female race to really ask about stuff like you anymore, and spender’s not too eager to share neither. not out of the blue. it’s unlike him. this you understand. 100%. locked safely in the noggin.

you never think much about it anyway. it doesn’t bother you. what bothers you, though, is secrets.

you know spencer has loads of those, tucked behind that carefree and open-hearted smile and attitude of his. you examine him carefully, searching his face for ticks—okay, maybe you were just looking really creepily because he’s pretty and you try to commit every feature into memory but you are, searching for ticks that is.

you know he hides things. somethings not worth bringing up again because it’ll only bring up bad memories. some other things, however, definitely worth mentioning again. you just have to find the right target questions. sometimes it feels like you’re dating a stranger, with how little you know about spencer’s life. sometimes it feels like you’re dating the love of your life. it’s all very relative.

you and spencer are cuddled up on the couch, breaking bad playing on the tv. it’s one of the shows spencer doesn’t like pointing out the scientific inaccuracies of because he’s too fond of the main character to really say that he’s wrong, and sometimes you miss his voice chiming in between all the movie’s dialogues, but you think the reason why he’s quiet today is because he’s not in the mood to talk. the last case’s gotten him pretty shaken up, and he’s still healing, head in your neck every night and when he pulls away your skin is damp with tears.

“you okay spence?” you say, moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. he hums softly, and then you both suddenly hear the vibration from under your asses. spencer shifts around, digging his phone out from where it’s lodged in a random cushion of the sofa.

he groans inwardly, showing you the screen, not having to explain. in big letters, the caller says: bau--derek morgan.

“he usually never calls me on weekends,” spencer frowns, watching the phone vibrate. “you think i should answer?”

“he’s a friend,” you say, tucking a stray strand of hair under his ear. “answer him.”

“okay,” spencer says hesitantly, then swipes the green button on his screen. he clears his throat as the call connects. “you’re on speaker,” he warns, looking at you anxiously and then back to his phone again. morgan’s a wildcard, and spencer would have to hide his face everyday for the next three weeks in front of you if morgan happens to drop something embarrassing about him just out of pocket. spencer isn’t ready.

“not like there’s anyone with you to hear,” morgan scoffs, and didn’t let spencer answer before continuing. “the team’s planning on a bar night tomorrow—“

“the team?” spencer questions, suspicious. morgan sighs loudly.

“garcia and i,” he corrects reluctantly, “are planning for a team bonding night tomorrow. what do you say?”

“no.” spencer says immediately, looking at you and hope you get his unspoken answer. spencer never goes out on weekends, not unless it’s with you. with his highly demanding schedule at the bau, it’s rare that he has any time off at all, and it’s hard to maintain a healthy relationship that way. any time he gets to spend time with you he’d take.

“come on,” morgan says, enthusiastically. “when was the last time you properly went out, huh?”

“last month, when you and garcia planned another of these team bonding bar nights,” spencer says monotonously. he rolls his eyes. “morgan—“

“don’t be rolling your eyes at me now, genius,” morgan warns. you stifle a laugh, and spencer sends you a wounded look. you forget that they’re basically family, like siblings to knows each other to a tee. “listen, have some fun in your life. who knows, maybe we can find you another lila at the bar.” morgan’s tone is suggestive. and now, that got your full, undivided attention.

and spencer, predictably, looks like a deer caught in the headlights, looking at you in horror was you narrow your eyes at his screen. you prod at his leg, prompting him to answer so morgan can elaborate.

lila?

“i don’t think—“ spencer starts, but got immediately cut off.

“don’t lie and say you didn’t like it, lover boy,” morgan whistles and spencer cringes. “now that we’re talking about lila, actually—“ spencer’s mind is screaming, shut up shut up shut up! as morgan proceeds to feed you more information, completely oblivious to his sins. “do you guys still keep in touch? she looked pretty into you. never knew you had it in you til then, man--”

by now spencer’s beet red head to ears to toe and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but also off of yourself. you’d say you’re a jealous woman. not too jealous but definitely not not jealous.

“morgan,” spencer starts again, voice a little wobbly and embarrassed and morgan laughs.

“seriously though, do you guys still talk? them eyes never lie,” and morgan sounds so casual, so nonchalant while destroying spencer’s life.

it’s not that spencer doesn’t want you to know about lila. he couldn’t careless if lila waltz into his life right now because he knows they would be nothing more than friends—you’re all he’s ever wanted and he would trade you for nothing. it’s just embarrassing, is all, him being exposed like this, and he feels smaller, feels like he’s actually 5’3 with the glare you’re sending him.

“anyway, that don’t matter,” morgan remains completely ignorant and in his own world and still on speaker. oh morgan. “i want to see you at our bar tomorrow. it’s a yes, right? good. i’ll tell garcia you said yes.”

“morgan!” spencer says quickly. “i have a gir—“

morgan hangs up.

spencer dreads looking at you, so he takes his time getting out the app and then clears all of the background apps on his phone. he doesn’t like seeing you mad and he can basically sense it, the fumes blowing out your ears.

“who’s lila?” you say casually and he looks up. he doesn’t mistake your tone for friendliness, your eyes are narrow and suspicious.

“someone on a case a while ago,” spencer responds honestly. because that’s all there was to lila. it’s not like he’s never had his first kiss before her, so she doesn’t even count as his first kiss (she’s his second) and other than that minute-long moment they shared there was nothing else remarkable. she just happens to the only girl the team knows about who’s spencer been involved with and they are encouraging to help him find another ‘lila.’

it’s all very complicated. and humiliating. he should’ve definitely told you the entire backstory beforehand, because it’s not scandalous or weird or anything. it’s innocent and harmless. but now the problem seems to be blown out of proportion.

“just someone?” you press. spencer hesitates. he hates lying, especially when he’s lying to you. his hesitation gives you all the answer you needed.

“we kissed once,” he says, and gawks at you for approval, for forgiveness. “but that was it. i swear.”

something awful bubbles in your stomach. you know spencer’s not lying, and it’s not worth getting upset with him about because it’s all in the past—it’s not like you go talking about your precious conquests to spencer anyway. but you can’t help the envy and jealousy boiling so hotly it makes you dizzy.

spencer feels obliged to fill you in, to patch up the little bump and to get back the sweet atmosphere that was before morgan called. he knew morgan would somehow manage to ruin his life in some kind of way. he knew it before he even accepted his call.

“she was an actress in this case we were working on and she just, i think, really liked me or something and she was in a pool when i came to see her just to ask some questions and she just pulled me—“

his rant got interrupted by you seizing him to a rough kiss, hands coming up to rest behind the nape of his neck and nails unconsciously digging into his skin. spencer remains mostly unresponsive and soft, surprised and don't know how to respond. you keep prying, teeth digging into the soft of his bottom lip and spencer starts nipping at you back, gentle like he always is.

it frustrates you, how hard it is to be frustrated at spencer. you pull away from him and spencer tilts his head curiously, lip shiny and eyes looking at you like he's never seen you before and he just looks so sweet, so innocent and eager, like a precious pup. you roll your eyes, swatting at his chest, annoyance and jealousy and anger evaporating from you like a cloud.

spencer licks his lips and you collapse back into him again, returning to the position you were before morgan so unmindfully interrupted your weekend. breaking bad continues to play on the tv. long limbs wraps around you and spencer presses a kiss in your hair.

"i'm not going tomorrow," he declares.

"you should," you say nonchalantly. you cuddle up closer to him, turning around until the both of your are facing each other, wiggling your way on top. you begin to trace stars on the exposed skin of his shoulder. "and maybe you should bring someone with you. just to act as a guard for future lila's. maybe you can introduce that person too," you flick your hair behind your back and shrugs at spencer's amused smile. "it's just a thought."

"okay," he says quietly, eyes so soft. "okay. who do you suggest i bring?"

"that's for you to figure out, doctor reid," you say flippantly, turning back to the tv. "now shush."

[gojosoups]

Ino has a big dick :( the poor guy doesn’t even know how to use it to pleasure you, too afraid to hurt you with all his 8.5 inches of glory 😿 that’s why he needs you to teach him, riding him to tears until he’s a twitching and moaning mess underneath you

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[patrophthia]

hii! I really loved your stories! can you write something about theo×hufflepuff again? I don't have any preferences, whathever comes to you mind (well maybee some enemies/don't like each other at the begging haha) thank u))

wanted to do rivals to lovers but i failed, like really badly so here’s just fluff with theo envying reader a teensy bit

make it make sense | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, meet cute, established relationships, tasm reference (just cuz)

part of my 1k celebration event !

You and Theodore makes no sense. Not to your friends, not to his friends, not to anyone —Merlin, not even yourselves. 

How the two of you got today is and will always be a story Theodore could never wrap his head around. 

At first glance, the two of you are direct opposites. A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin made absolutely no sense at first sight. And it’s exactly what he thought when his feelings towards you —which were, at first, resentment and envy (you were doing better in classes than he was and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him) turns to fascination, and maybe even adoration. 

Not in a weird way, of course. Not in a way where he’d stare at you from across the room where you’re sitting, chatting with your friends with a pretty on your face before accidentally meeting his eyes and making him avert his gaze kind of way. Or well —maybe it was. You were beautiful, can you blame him?

Not only were you beautiful, you were also kind. So incredibly kind, hardworking, and your sense of justice is so strong you knocked him off his feet. Literally. 

The first time he talked to you —really talked to you— was when you body slammed him to the ground whilst chasing someone who’d had picked on your friend. It sounds cliche and sometimes, when he feels an overwhelming urge to kiss you; he deflects it by joking about how you ‘fell’ for him. 

You were quick to pick yourself up off of him, eyes wide as you helped him back to his feet with repetitive apologies. “I’m sorry, I really should’ve looked where I was going but I was so worried that he’d get away (and he did) that I bumped into you.

Are you okay though? Should I bring you to the infirmary? What’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Theodore fixes his attention on you. “I’m fine, let’s not bother Madam Pomfrey about this,” he says first, then he glances between you and your fingers, eyes glinting with ridicule, “Zero.” 

He’s messing with you. That’s . . . A relief. Unless he actually couldn’t tell that you’re holding up fo—

“Four,” he tells you anyways, he then adds. “Nott.” 

“What?” 

“My names Nott.” He tells you. 

And you smile at him. You’re kind enough to smile at him even when he’s coming off as a bit of an arse to you, you still smile at him. “Oh I know,” you say, “just wanted to make sure you knew it too.” 

He blinks at you. Slowly. So slow that it almost resembles a cat’s blinking. “Well, I do.” 

“Good.” He’s still looking at you. And you’re still looking at him. Neither of you wanting to go back to your separate lives just yet. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

Theodore wills himself to not show any real reaction to your words, only keeping stoic as he answers. “I’m not,” he says, “are you asking to make sure I knew it too?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to know.” 

And you leave. So suddenly that Theodore has to stare at your leaving figure for a good three minutes before finally pulling himself back together. 

So maybe the two of you made no sense being with one another, but it’s been like that from the start —how you left him standing there will forever be a core memory for him— and he’s more than just content to be in love with you now. And if he’s being honest, does things making sense matter when you’re in love? 

Not in his books. 

[weekly-eons]

Out of curiosity, are folks allowed to take inspiration from your eons designs to make characters? It’s totally okay if not, the designs of some of these are beautiful!!

Hi! Thanks for asking! I am glad you like my silly designs ^^ I don't have any problems of people taking inspiration! Just don't copy the design and call it your own.

Let's take for example the Angel themed eons. I am okey with anyone making their own angel eon! What I am not okey with is just copy the design and making small changes.

Just be creative! Of course, you can take design elements or use colours I use, I don't own any concept or colour combo's. Just don't make a carbon copy.

[pup-pee]

SO I MIGHTVE GOTTEN A BIT INSPIRED BY THIS POST

[usertoxicyaoi]

"Good job."

TAIKAN YOHOU (2023). Episode 3.

[onlyroach]

this has been in the drafts until today 🗣🔥‼️‼️

[lunarw0rks]

wait ong imagine something where the reader is loopy from the medicine she took an accidentally tells tf141 she’s in love with them

backstory; you broke your arm slipping on icy pavement. naturally, your first instinct was to call your long-time close friend, who's now your moral support at the clinic.

you're really putting his bedside manner to the test.

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PRICE

in the midst of stroking your hair, waiting for your eyes to flutter open after getting the cast put on.

“see? all better.” he smiles warmly, watching you examine the chunky cast now setting your arm in place.

of course, sluggishly and with sleepy eyes from whatever they have you doped up on.

after a series of tired questions; how long were you out, how bad is the break, etc… you started to sober up a bit — but still sedated and slurring your words.

his fingers continued stroking your hair, moving strands from your face when you’d twitch too much.

“you’ve always been good to me. a good friend… so good to me, john.” you give a loopy smile, cherishing the feeling of his caress. “i think i’m falling in love with you. how crazy is that?”

even in the worst of states, you get the better of him.

price’s blood runs cold, the caress of his hand stopping momentarily. “oh, sweetheart, you won’t remember this tomorrow.” he shakes the confession off, trying his best to maintain his role of moral support.

you’ve made it hard. very hard.

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SIMON

didn't know how to comfort you with words — but got there as fast as he could when you called him. even though he didn't say much, it was obvious you gave him a scare, and he was relieved to find it was just a patch of ice and not internal bleeding.

promised to get you a milkshake after, so that makes up for it.

and with simon, you've learned that's a big step for him. to make promises, and to nurture and spoil.

he wanted to stay in the waiting room, but since you were in pain and pleaded for him to stay, there wasn't much bickering he could do with you. besides, you were drugged up; what could possibly go wrong? ...right?

sat in the chair beside the exam table, he tapped his foot anxiously while the cast was being put on. he didn't say much, but his focus was mainly on you or what the doctor was doing with your injury.

one of the few perks the horrors he'd seen; a broken arm is nothing to squirm about.

the confession happened when you were about to be discharged. after all the paperwork, simon held all your things for you without question, to prevent any strain on the fresh cast.

you wouldn't get up right away. you needed to say something.

"wait, wait..." you shrugged off his hand when he attempted to help you climb off the bed, glossy eyes staring up at him. "thank you. for everything you've put up with. i'm starting to— to see things differently. with us, si."

years and years of tight friendship. could it even be labeled that anymore?

shifted awkwardly for a few moments, unable to keep eye contact when you were so vulnerable. he wasn't in a place or state to unpack his complex feelings for you. "c'mon, love. lean on me." he motioned, allowing you to stumble against him as he led you out.

even though you didn't get a clear answer, there were a hundred things he wanted to say.

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SOAP

he was with you when it happened. a night of hanging out in front of a movie and enjoying takeout. you stepped out to take out the trash and ended up slipping on the ice and landing all your weight on your arm.

you phoned soap, who was still inside your place — completely oblivious to your injury.

already, it wasn't a good ending to an almost seamless night. you were enjoying his company, still stifling feelings like you had been for so long.

and now, sitting in the hospital bed. a scowl on your face while brandishing a new cast. "do ye want me to sign it?" soap asked, half-joking and half-not. you shook your head, getting chills as he placed a gentle rub on your shoulder.

you dizzily sat up on the exam table, handing him your belongings so he could carry them. "i ruined tonight, didn't i?" you asked, despite having no cause for the question.

soap scoffed and chuckled, knowing it was most likely the heavy sedatives talking. "oh, don't be like tha'. it's not a night out without some broken bones." well, he wasn't wrong. nights with him often ended in accidental bruises.

softly, he let your head rest on his shoulder as he walked you past the waiting area, and out to the veranda, where his car was already waiting.

"johnny..." you muttered against his chest, your words garbled from the medications. "i love you."

shaking his head, he opened the passenger door and helped you inside. hovering over you as he buckled you in, you smelled his cologne — the scent you'd learned to crave. "aye, i'm irresistible. but you're off your face."

he brushed it off with humor, but his expression didn't lie. the feeling in his chest didn't lie.

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GAZ

determined to stay in the room with you while they put the cast on, in case you wanted to hold his hand. even though you wouldn't feel any of it, seeing you in agony on the drive there was enough.

when the nurses finished, leaving you with an inconvenient sling and cast, he did his best to lend you support. "i broke my wrist once, during gymnastics. think you can top that?" gaz spoke to distract you, probably fluffing the details of the embarrassing juvenile memory.

your senses were foggy and sluggish, but you were lucid enough to speak. and the sedatives gave you an inkling of confidence to confess, which you otherwise wouldn't have.

your uninjured hand clutched his, playing with his fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze, "i think we should be more than friends. i mean... you're always with me, i'm always with you. it just... makes more sense." you murmured nonchalantly, as if not dropping a major bomb.

his natural reaction was to shake his head and smile, despite a flood of nerves arising at the confession. whether he felt the same or not—and he did—he couldn't admit it like this.

with you, halfway lucid and in a sterile environment. it wasn't right.

gaz did his best to change the subject, sure to try not to bring this up tomorrow, "how about we get out of here first? let me set you up at home and then... we'll go from there."

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