#rewired some brain chemistry or something

[starrynightsforever]

Let me paint you a picture. It's my first night alone in my brand new apartment, and I'm so fucking excited to be living completely alone for the first time. I accidentally stay up reading until 1 AM as usual because I have no impulse control. I finally turn out the light to go to sleep; it's pitch dark in my room. I immediately get a vision of what the night-vision goggle scene from Silence of the Lambs would look like if Buffalo Bill was standing over my bed in my room. I don't sleep for the rest of the night.

[quietlyblooms]

depicted: me staring at the dash as i immediately think of headcanons and useless information about lore and characters who have nothing to do with chiyo and everything to do with a concept that’s lived in my brain since 2016

[ame-to-ame]

.

[mariasont]

valentines day with hotch & bimbo reader!!!?

Cuddle Retention Program - A.H

summary: it’s valentine’s day and all bimbo!assistant!reader wants is for hotch to stay in bed a litttttleeee longer pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warnings: just fluffity fluff, v day fic, established relationship, bimbo!assistant being clingy, morning cuddles & kisses wc: 1.1k

Aaron smelled good in the mornings. Stupidly good. The kind of good that turned your brain into sugar-spun fluff, like slipping into freshly dried sheets or a golden kiss on frostbitten skin. Maybe it was his soap. Maybe it was his skin. Science might have some sort of explanation (Spencer would have pages of them), something about pheromones and chemistry and attraction.

Or maybe it was just him, just the way he existed in the world, the way loving him had rewired your brain to decide that he was your favorite scent, your favorite feeling, your favorite everything. Either way, you were obsessed with it, shameless in the way you pressed yourself closer, nuzzling into his chest like you could evaporate him into your skin, breathing him in as if you could store the feeling somewhere deep inside you.

And really, who could blame you? You were half awake (mind still sleep-soft) and it was Valentine's Day, which meant self-restraint was officially cancelled.

Your only job today was to love Aaron Hotchner with every fiber of your being, to the fullest capacity, and you planned to be relentless about it. You'd smother him in it, drown him in every ridiculous ounce of affection you could muster. You had a pile of silly, heartfelt gifts, things chosen with obscene amounts of thought, things that would earn you that signature Hotchner sigh, half exasperated with how much you had spent, half-somewhere-deep-down-amused. 

And if the universe were feeling generous, if the stars were truly aligned, you'd get the look. That tiny, secret almost-smirk, the one he thought you never noticed, the one that melted you down to nothing but pink, love-struck goo.

You sigh, wriggling a little just to get that much closer. Legs tangled, noses nearly brushing, lips tickling his throat as you exhale, voice sleep-rough and overtly greedy.

"Not letting you go," you murmur with full intent, pressing a semi-conscious kiss to his skin. "Ever, ever, ever."

Aaron exhales slowly, the sound rumbling low in his chest and transferring to yours. His hold on you hardens, not much, but just enough that your stomach does that stupid little flip, the one it always does when he pulls you closer without thinking. When he was somewhere between a dream and waking, but instinctively still reaching for you.

He doesn’t even open his eyes, just tucks his face into your hair and sighs, "Wasn't planning on going anywhere."

Your lips curve into a love-drunk smile as you steal another breath of him. "Better not."

Aaron groans, rolling just enough to squint at the clock before flopping back onto the pillow. His arm stays draped over you, pulling you closer like he's trying to trap you back in sleep with him. 

"Sweet girl," he sighs, "why must you insist on waking up at an ungodly hour?"

"Because I missed you while you were sleeping."

He exhales a quiet laugh, his hands roaming up your back in sleepy strokes. "I was right here."

"Not consciously," you countered, nudging your nose against his throat before pressing an exaggerated bite to his jaw. "You weren't actively showering me in love and affection, and I found that extremely rude."

Aaron huffs out a laugh, barely cracking one eye open as his lips quirk. "That so? Didn't realize I was neglecting my duties"

"Mhm," you sigh, tracing a finger over the firm plane of his chest. "Fortunately for you, I'm very forgiving. You can make it up to me by loving me right now."

"I always love you. Even in my sleep. Some of us don't need to be conscious to be devoted."

His fingers continue to skim idly under your pajama shirt, like touching you wasn't even a decision, just something ingrained, something automatic. A habit. A necessity. (Which it is now, but still, the thought stuns you every time.) Then, as if to personally disintegrate you, he presses a kiss to your forehead, careless in the way only deeply familiar love can be.

Your heart squeezes, affection swelling inside you, spreading like sunlight from the inside out. You want to savor in it, to bask in it, but then you feel the slow stretch of his legs, the unconscious twitch of his fingers, the tense of his body like he was preparing to push himself upright. Because Aaron does not know how to just relax in bed. Once he’s awake, he has to be moving, and that was not okay with you.

You don't mean to whine, it just slips out, an undeniably needy sound that always makes him pause. And predictably, he does. His body hesitates, giving you the perfect opening to wrap yourself around him, draping yourself across his lap. One leg hooks over his thigh, your arms lock around his torso. 

"Sweetheart, I need to —,"

"No," you plead, lower lip jutting out as you tilt up, blinking up at him so sweetly. "Don't leave me. It's warm. You're warm. Just five more minutes?"

Your eyes flicker up just in time to catch the exact moment he scrubs a tired hand down an equally tired face, and your heart trips, stumbles, falls face-first like it has no sense of self-preservation.

Because you love that. Borderline worship it. The way his fingers drag along his jaw, the brief scratch of his knuckles, the way his palm catches on the small stubble that always grows in overnight. You used to watch him do this at work, back when he was still just your boss.

You'd time it, find the right moment to drop off files or refill his coffee just for the purpose of being closer. Just so you could steal a few extra seconds of him, to soak in all the details you weren't supposed to love yet.

Now, you don't have to steal anything. He's yours, and he's not getting out of bed.

He laughs, letting himself sink deeper into the pillows. "You do realize I'm not supposed to negotiate with terrorists, right?"

"That's okay," you sigh, wiggling until you're sprawled completely on top of him, face pressed against his chest. "I don't negotiate either. I take prisoners."

Aaron exhales, shaking his head, but he’s already wrapping an arm around you, tucking you closer like he has no intention of actually getting up. "Of course."

You let out an exaggerated, dreamy sigh. "Ah, yes. A man who knows when to admit defeat. A rare breed. An endangered species."

"Is that so?"

"Mmmhmm. And do you know what happens to rare, precious things, Aaron?"

His fingers twitched. "Dare I ask?"

"They get worshiped." 

You laugh, breathless and helpless, giddy with the sheer force of how much you adore him. And then you're everywhere, littering his face with kisses, pressing your lips to his cheek, his jaw, his absurdly perfect nose, like you can't stand to leave a single inch untouched.

Between kisses, the words spill out, certain, bubbling up in the space of each press of your lips.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

Like the words belong to him. Like you belong to him. Like you could spend forever saying them and it still wouldn’t scratch the surface of how much.

Aaron sighs, as if he's been personally victimized by your love and affection, but then his fingers press into your ribs, and suddenly you are the victim.

"Aaron!" you shriek, laughter bursting from your chest as you try, and fail, to wriggle away. "You're — ah! — so unfair!"

Before you even register his movement, he flips you onto your back, pinning you down with a ridiculous, infuriatingly smug amount of control.

He smirks, his fingers trailing lazily over your temple as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Oh, I thought we were showing love and affection?"

Your hands fist into his shirt, tugging slightly, refusing to let him tease you with the closeness he’s clearly drawing out on purpose. His lips hover above yours, his breath fanning over your skin.

"Happy Valentine's Day sweetheart," he whispers, before his lips find yours.

"My beautiful," another kiss. "Happy," another, slower this time. "Perfect girl." His lips linger just a second longer. "My girl. My love. Always."

And then he kisses you again, fully, completely, endlessly like he wanted to live in you, in your pulse, in the gaps between every heartbeat, like he wanted to leave traces of himself in every breath you took, every sigh, every second between now and forever.

Yeah. That’ll do it.

You blink up at him, lips still tingling, brain definitely not working. "Oh my god. You should kiss me like that every morning. And every night. And also right now. Just to be safe."

"You'd really let me get away with that?"

His voice is quiet but so sure of you, because he already knows the answer. And then he kisses you again, like he's claiming the privilege anyway.

taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[ryescapades-archived]

*ੈ‧₊༺ "SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE A DREAM,"

⤷ submission for @pixelcafe-network 's Secret Santa event !

— vice-captain hoshina seems to frequent the infirmary lately... perhaps it has something to do with the division's beloved medic.

characters: hoshina soshiro (kn8) x medic!reader contents: fluff, some injuries and blood, one(1) suggestive line but it’s for the plot, smooching, kind of getting together, slight spoilers for b side manga, inaccurate manga timeline wc ~ 1.8k

a/n: @purpleqilinwrites happy holidays from me, your secret santa ! 🎄 not christmas-themed but i hope you can still enjoy this humble gift i’ve prepared for you (see the end of this for more messages) <3

Remembering and differentiating people’s faces is usually something that comes naturally to people.

Be it your distant, distant relative, or a newly appointed work colleague, or even a fellow customer at a cafe you love. It’s easy enough to memorise each and every one of them, given that you’ve seen them a few times consecutively, of course.

Then again, it comes with the job to have a good memory anyway. Lots of scientific and biological names to be remembered, health conditions and symptoms to be identified, patients you constantly need to keep your eyes on. You have them all etched inside your mind.

There’s also that other circumstance, where forgetting someone’s face is as easy as brushing away a speck of dust from your clothes. People come, and people go. Not everyone that you’ve come across will stay in your life, and not every one of them will become a significant part of it either.

There is one thing, however, that you have stumbled upon, not knowing that it will become both of those things. Or rather, one person.

The first time you saw him was at the hospital right after the kaiju emergence at Ome city back when you were still a measly apprentice to a senior medic from the Third Division. Tasked to do one of his checkups, you’d overheard his conversation with your captain right before she left the ward.

His reaction baffled you, to say the least. Who in the world would reject a position offered by the Captain Ashiro Mina herself? After a thorough yet uneventful inspection on his condition, he was deemed to be discharged from the hospital a few days after, and along with that his presence from your mind.

Or so you thought.

The second time you saw him was a bit more coincidental. Months after that, when you were freshly appointed as one of the Third Division’s operational medics, you had accidentally crossed paths with him on the way to Captain Ashiro’s office, unaware that you were in the face of your soon-to-be Vice-Captain.

You didn’t know how, or why, but for some astronomical reason you’d remembered who he was. There were lots of people you’d bumped into in the past, people you’d medically treated, and people with even worse haircut (in your defense, that was only a mere observation on your part); you had no trouble putting them to the rear end of your mind as you knew they were nothing more than encounters by chance.

Aside from the fact that he’d rejected your captain’s offer, you’d wondered if there was something else about him from that first time that had rewired the very foundation of your brain chemistry to make you remember him as clearly and easily as memorizing the back of your own hand, even when you’d only seen him once before in your entire lifetime.

Unbeknownst to you, Hoshina Soshiro thought the same thing about you.

What is it about you, Hoshina had once mused. What made you so… unforgettable? Your presence had been lingering in the back of his mind from the moment you first laid your hand on him. After you’d left his ward months ago, the image of you has been foggy and indistinctive, almost haunting for him to deal with. And now that he had you in front of his eyes again, he was more than determined to know more about you.

The two of you hit it off then. One friendly conversation turned two, turned weekly, turned daily. Lingering touches, longing gazes, secret smiles, flirty quips. And the most unambiguous of all; the time spent together in the medic bay at any hour of the day.

It’s becoming a routine at this point for the Third Division members to see their second-in-command walking through the doorway of the infirmary with an injury or the other, some of them severe and some were barely considered a prick. The officers have suspected something, of course. But none of them are bold enough (yet) to confront nor pull the topic out in the open.

And so do you and Hoshina himself.

Though you’re totally aware it’s only a matter of time before one of you finally breaches the blurring line between platonic and romantic. Ironically enough, Hoshina with all his foxy eyed glory, seems to be the one to (not so) blindly step over the said line, all too keen on wiping it off like a silly drawing on a sandy shore.

“Hey there. Ya seem happy to see me,”

You grit your teeth at the cheery greeting, irritation piling over the concern and worry, overstacked by the fear wrecking through your body. Taking a deep breath to gather yourself, you step to the side to let the officers carry the battered body of the Vice-Captain to sit on a nearby bed. Soon enough, they walk themselves out with a respective nod to their superiors, leaving you in the still silence of the infirmary.

In your peripheral, Captain Ashiro stands beside the door with her arms crossed, a calculated look stuck on her youthful face before she straightens up, calling out to your name. “I’m leaving them in your care. I’ll be back in a few though,” Confused, you’re about to ask about what she meant when a mass of white fur enters your vision.

Bakko is staying here for a while then, you realize just as the Captain, too, makes her exit to the door. You let the feline kaiju make himself at home in the infirmary as you return to the task at hand; treating Hoshina.

Your next course of action proceeds swiftly and methodically; assembling the medical supplies and equipment, assessing the injuries, disinfecting the wounds and dressing them accordingly. All the while trying not to squirm under his obnoxious gaze.

“You were never this quiet before,” Hoshina breaks the silence, grimacing slightly as you’re currently treating one of his more severe wounds, one that requires stitching.

Your forehead creases slightly, “What do you want me to say?” You question, both in exasperation and incredulity. The swordsman lifts his good shoulder in a little shrug. “I dunno. Anythin’,”

“You’re stupid,”

Hoshina’s lips twitch slightly, “Mhm,”

“And reckless,”

A small smile tugs on his face next, “Yeah?” Slowly, and breathily.

“And - and… you weren’t being careful enough,” Your bloody hand shakes, the scissors you’re holding barely cutting away the remaining thread after you’d successfully managed to stitch his wound up. “Okonogi already said it was a daikaiju and you still insisted on fighting it alone. Who the hell does that?” You seethe.

One of his hands moves to hold yours, halting you just as you'd turned back from putting your equipment away. “You mad at me, sweetheart?” His nonchalant drawl causes you to snap. “I thought you were going to die, Soshiro. Of course I was mad!”

Suddenly there’s a quiet growl rumbling from the corner of the room, and the both of you immediately go silent. You look to the side to see Bakko with his mouth pulled into a menacing snarl, eyeing the other slumbering patients as if to remind you that you’re not the only ones in the room.

You huff, slightly embarrassed at being chastised in your own work space. By a kaiju, of all things.

Hoshina gruffly snickers before glancing at the feline, “He’s not Captain Ashiro’s companion for nothin’, huh? Think he can help around in the infirmary?” He jests.

You chuckle weakly, nodding a little at his injuries. “What, do you want him to lick it all better?”

It was supposed to be a joke, a casual inquiry made to lighten the mood, but Hoshina seems to think otherwise. With his bleary eyes, he murmurs, “I want you to lick it all better,”

Your breath stutters, the heart in your chest skipping a beat or two. Or maybe three? You can’t really seem to figure it out when all you know is that the blood pumping in your veins feels like you’re running a goddamn marathon around the division base.

Your body heats up at the way Hoshina’s gaze remains focused on you, those irises seeping with such intensity and passion, finely rich like wine and sangria. There’s a pull so magnetic, the minimal space where you’re starting to share breaths with him is charged with the tension between the two of you.

Your eyes drift down to his mouth for one quick second. A mere glance, shy and timid. And the next thing you know, you and Hoshina become a clashing of lips, wandering hands and blissful sighs.

Like a collision between two worlds; the connection feels intensely mind-blowing, like a surge of adrenaline that has you forgetting about everything else aside from feeling him, tasting him, consuming him. Your fingertips tingle from where you’re cradling his face in your hands, and electric zaps up your spine from where his hands are gripping you by your hips.

Your lips slide against his in a feverish dance, his tongue diving in to explore each and every crevice of your mouth. Another pleased sigh escapes from you when he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the skin with a gentle suck right after. Hoshina hums against your mouth, pulling you to stand even closer between his legs but a pained groan from him then makes you draw back, the desire to continue ravishing each other now replaced with a budding sense of concern.

“You’re pulling on the stitches,” you mutter, fingers lightly prodding at his medically patched skin. Hoshina shakes his head slightly and drops it to rest on your shoulder as he grunts under his breath, “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.”

You falter, a furious blush creeping up to your cheeks at his statement. ‘Why didn’t you do it sooner, then?’ You’d wanted to ask but just as he raises his head, you catch sight of the bloody handprints on both of his cheeks. You gasp in surprise, “Soshiro, you’re—”

You reach up to hold his face, though when you see your own hands stained with the blood from his wounds, a small laugh of realisation comes out of you. Hoshina snorts a little when he deduces the same thing, the room now filled with your combined giggles.

“All the more reason to stay here longer and get myself cleaned up, hm?” He smirks and leans back with his arms perched on the bed. You gnaw at the bottom of your lip, staring not-so-subtly at his slacked figure.

More work for you to do… not like you’re complaining anyway because he does not have any business looking so sinfully good with all those muscles and bare skin all roughed up and bloodied like that.

You inwardly shake your head to disperse the thought. Throwing him an eye roll, you scold him for moving around too much in case his injuries get worse, and that he should know better than to stay out of commission for longer than necessary considering his importance in the division.

Deep down, though, you’re glad that Hoshina Soshiro is there with you in more ways than one, holding your hand as you trudge through this new relationship blossoming between you two.

He stays, and he is significant. Forever will be in your lovesick little heart.

taglist open!

bakko is just there like 👁️👄👁️

💌 ; kaija my dear i’m so happy that i get to know you through the cafe network <3 really enjoyed all the convos we’ve had in the kn8 channel and i appreciate u sm !! you’re so sweet and so delightful to talk to and i thought that you are just the perfect person to be soshiro’s favorite doctor / nurse ^^ you seem like the type who'd be good at taking care of people, especially your loved ones. bet he goes to the infirmary a lot just to see u hehe (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) anyway, i hope 2024 has been nice to you. i wish you all the good things in the world, and that 2025 will be a better and sweeter year for you, love 💜

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[cinnamongirlblogsworld]

She is like a cat in the dark and then she is to darkness

Emily Prentiss x reader

Nota do autor : If you’ve made it this far, this might be exactly what you needed – without wanting to sound pretentious. Read at your own risk. Comments are always welcome.

*****************

You could feel it—the eyes always burning into your back with every step you took. Whether you fixed your hair, yawned... It was strange, unsettling. Anyone would be on edge having the attention—albeit unintentional—of the woman who'd stirred up the most conflicting emotions in your entire life.

Emily fucking Prentiss. In full command of herself, she walked like the floor wasn’t worthy of her steps. The archetype of supreme power that made you tremble from head to toe, leaving only one coherent thought in your mind: complete obedience. Of course, S/N, always eager to help, the first to volunteer, constantly showing up in Garcia’s not-so-secret lair. Not that you didn’t dare go out on the field with the team—you’d been with the BAU for just over five months.

But ever since the last case—where the profile you drafted about the suspect, which no one had noticed, led to a quicker capture—you never forgot the words Ms. Prentiss had whispered, secretly, for no one else to hear: “Good girl.” And she looked at you like she could see your soul.

Fuck. For someone driven by validation, those words—almost immoral in their intimacy—completely rewired your brain chemistry.

The team had just returned from a case in Texas, after investigating a local drug trafficking ring. It was messy—seemed like the whole town knew the names, but no one was willing to risk their life over it. That’s exactly why the BAU gets called in.

Some think profilers are nothing but charlatans, but the craft lies exactly in reading between the lines, beyond what anyone’s willing to show. And that—ah, that only comes with practice and study. It’s the kind of job where each experience sharpens your skill even more.

Your mind was foggy. Now it was impossible not to associate the success of the case with the anticipation of looks, gestures, words that subtly confirmed just how well you’d done. The last time you craved something that badly was during your Psychology grad school, in a particular class where the professor—who radiated the energy of someone who’d cradle you and make you confess your darkest secrets—explained how gratification is tied to positive reinforcement within behavioral patterns. As if we’re propelled by pleasant stimuli following desirable behavior, increasing the likelihood of repeating it. That was exactly how you felt about your boss.

— Agents, her strong, commanding voice cuts through your thoughts.

— I know you’re all tired and just want to get out of here as soon as possible, but we still have work to do. I expect your reports on my desk before you leave. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.

She turns, and her silver hair moves with the subtle breeze in the hallway. You’d give anything to feel it between your fingers… To see it fall over her face while she’s on top of you…

— You heard your girl, S/N. Get to it, chérie... unless you plan to sleep here tonight, Garcia teases with a grin.

— She’s not my girl, Penelope, you mumble, the flush on your cheeks betraying you.

— Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. Good luck with the paperwork.

And that’s your cue to bury your head into the desk, tuning everything else out, wishing you were anywhere else—anywhere but here.

time skip.

The floor was eerily quiet. The cold overhead lights cast elongated shadows across the empty corridors, and the sound of your steps echoed like you were trespassing a sacred place. It was past nine p.m.—everyone had already left.

Everyone except her.

The email notification still blinked on your screen: “S/N, when you finish, come to my office.” That was it. No period, no context. But it was enough. You couldn’t possibly ignore anything that came from her.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the half-open door.

— Ma’am? — you noticed she always swallowed hard when you called her that, but you couldn’t resist the way that innocent little word tasted on your tongue.

She was seated at her desk, blazer draped over the chair, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her once-flawless hair now fell more freely around her face—a softer look, yet still dangerously commanding. SHIT, that’s not even what made you hold your breath. It was those damn buttons—meticulously undone—offering a reserved glimpse, just enough to make you crave more, like a taste of life’s elixir you now couldn’t live without.

She raised her eyes from the report and gave a nod with her chin.

— Come in. Lock the door, please.

You walked toward your noose, slowly, never breaking eye contact. The kind of eye contact even madmen wouldn’t dare break.

Standing in front of her desk, you stopped.

She exhaled and stretched her fingers, looking at you as if she knew something you didn’t—as if she could truly read you from the inside out. And you wouldn’t doubt it.

— Sit down, she said, not loudly, but with enough firmness to make you obey without question.

The chair creaked softly as you sat. Your hands rested, restless, in your lap, and your heart beat far too loudly for a room so quiet. She didn’t speak. Just watched you for a time long enough to make you wonder if you were being tested.

— You know what intrigues me about you, agent? — her voice finally broke the silence, low, almost casual. A mischievous smile teased her lips. — That constant need to always be seeking something. That hunger, that... craving for... — she ran a hand through her hair with a resigned sound — Validation. You try to hide it, but... not very well, really.

You swallowed hard. Couldn’t hold her gaze for more than two seconds. She leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table.

— But you know what? That’s also what makes you good. Maybe too good.

She smirked, and something in you melted—fear or desire, hard to tell. The room felt smaller now. Warmer. More suffocating.

— You should know that no one hides anything for long around here. And honestly, it’s almost admirable that you thought I wouldn’t notice your little inclination. I just needed time... to assess whether I was lucky enough to have your need for approval aimed at me.

— Tell me something: do you have issues with your mother... or is it just this thinly veiled urge to give up control? Be honest, doll. I can sniff out a lie from miles away.

The world stopped. Your breath was uneven, and a cold shiver sliced through your soul. It was the sensation of being questioned about things never spoken—not even to yourself. Truths buried deep in your subconscious, the stone in your shoe that keeps you from walking into the glory of the desire your body craves, cries for, needs.

It teetered on the edge of a panic attack, but it wasn’t one. You felt yourself slipping into subspace, being pulled by something invisible and inevitable. Your insides burned—on open flame. And your underwear was hopelessly ruined.

She, noticing your silence, your lack of reaction—as if the chaos inside hadn’t just been unleashed—just observed. You couldn’t tell if she realized the mess she’d made of you. She stood, carrying that arrogant energy that made your knees weak. Walked until she stood in front of you and grabbed your chin—not forcefully, a gentle touch, but devastating to your sanity.

— Doll... — you leaned in almost instinctively at her touch.

— Hmm... you murmured.

— E-mi-ly...

There it was.

— That’s what I’m talking about, she grinned wickedly, like she’d already won. — You melt in my hands, babygirl.

She gripped your hair, hard.

— Kneel for me, sweetheart. Would you do that?

— I’d do anything for you, Emily. — Your voice carried something pure, irrational, beyond the limits of acceptable desire and submission for someone.

And then you did it.

You knelt.

Accepted your rightful place—where you’d always belonged. Beneath her.

Bent to her will.

To Emily Prentiss.

If this was hell... then whatever came next would be child’s play to you.

Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night

And wouldn't you love to love her?

Takes to the sky like a bird in flight

And who will be her lover?

All your life you've never seen

Woman taken by the wind

Religion may be the refuge of the weak—the presence of a God influencing every decision made by us, mere mortals. His omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient existence. That's exactly how I felt about Emily. Maybe I am weak? Or maybe it’s just a different perspective—the one where we’re self-aware enough to recognize what we need and go after it with every ounce of strength running through our blood. I wanted her, now and forever.

[biblical-chronicles]

200 !!

there's 200 of ya lot here already what the actual fuck !!!!!!

this blog has become me literal second home, and I just wanna thank you all, as I never expected these silly scribbles to garner any serious interest.

And for that, I owe you. Every message, every comment, every request, like, repost—it all matters more than you probably realise. None of this would be the same without you. So, thank you so fucking much from the bottom of me heart !!

There’s just something rare about creating summat and watching it ripple out beyond yourself, seeing it come back in ways you never expected.

Also, since I get a load of requests and all that, figured I’d point you in the direction of some other top tier blogs that are keepin’ the Oasis fic scene alive. Proper class writers, that are active right now (and hopefully for a long bloody time). Go show ‘em some love !!

@daddy-issues-galore

absolute bangin' writer, Fly Me To The Moon has rewired me brain chemistry so many times over, it's mental. If you're lookin' for some dead solid smut and interestin' story lines in general, go over there sharpish!!!

@leaawrites

the girl writes not only for oasis but all sorts of artists / people, the talent knows no boundaries. You want fluff? it's there. You want angst? it's there. You want a series? also there. Amazin' immersive writin' never disappoints (as everyone on this list).

@storiesabouteli

fucking hell I wish I could write this well, has it all as well. You want Noel? you've got it. You want Inhaler fics? you've got it. Series? guess what, you've also got it! Again, highly recommend and be careful, you will read 'em all at once when you sit down to it ya lot !

@celestialgallaghers

always in awe of the writin' here as well, mental talent, amazin' story writin', the plot development always done just right. The smut is just chef's kiss, can never get enough, always feel sad to see the end of a story.

@james-francos-gf

not too many fics posted thus far but lookin' pretty promising you lot, keep an eye on there x

@veruchki

also not too many fics, but is the one on there posted in feb so fucking good, keep it in your orbit too !!

@valkierrie

writes for oasis, blur, the smiths, so keep your eye on the blog too if that sounds like summat for ya!!

again, standing ovation to all of ya lot, so much talent in this little space we have. This of course is in no particular order, as every single one of these blogs is unique and fucking brilliant !!

and remember no effort exists in isolation, so keep on writin'!

if I somehow forgot someone, or you want to be added then just shoot me a message and I'll gladly add you all xx

[roboticchibitan]

Tell me a quote that rewired your brain chemistry. Doesn't have to be like, some old dead guy's words. Can be something your dad or a tumblr mutual or whatever said.

One of mine is the Shantideva (8th century Buddhist sage) quote I have embroidered twice now, "if there is a remedy, what is the use of frustration. If there us not a remedy, then what is the use of frustration?" I use this quote to tell my anxiety spirals to shut the fuck up and it takes effort on my part but it helps me recognize "this is a waste of my energy" and then I can usually let the thought go.

Another is a quote from a podcast I've never listened to (that I forget the name of) that @therogueduchess posted (thank you for that btw) that says "it is noble to know that no one is beneath you." This one helped me process something in therapy that lead to growth in my capacity for compassion, which I truly treasure.

Please I am SO curious. What's one (or more, if you want to share) of yours?

[professorspork]

Punctum Project, Installment 19

(what the heck is the Punctum Project? read me!)

November 1, 2008 - 1NT (Carmen's penultimate) Carmen Cusack, Katie Rose Clarke, Cliffton Hall

What:

Okay so like

we all know this is one of my all time favorite performances of Wicked

and to be clear the REAL punctum from this show is "Don't wish, don't start"

like, the way Katie performed this rewired my brain chemistry and set my bar WAY too high

and now every time we come up on the INTG reprise i'm sitting there like that kid in The Incredibles

like

SOMETHING AMAZING I GUESS

and it never is, not like this was

i'm still waiting for a Glinda to take off her engagement ring and either throw it across stage or swallow it

BUT YOU ALREADY KNOW ALL THAT

so instead I will share a gem from Act 1 of this show that did not make it into my compilation

AS A REFRESHER

Popular is supposed to go like this:

Galinda takes the lipstick out from under her pillow, puts some on Elphaba, and then returns it under the pillow unless you're Ginna Claire Mason and you put it in your bra

THEN toss toss

THEN ballgown

THEN flower

THEN mirror for "why miss elphaba look at you you're beautiful"

the thing is

nowadays most Glindas just leave the mirror by the shoes and then go get it when they need it

in fact Brittney Johnson makes a whole MOMENT of *running to the mirror* to SAY "look at you" like it's a spontaneous thought, which I like very much

but in the early days Glindas would *pre-move* the mirror from the shoes to the bed to have it on hand for later; they were i think TOLD to do it during "your whole life is about to change, and all because of me" because they p much all did it like that (go back and watch like a Megan and you'll see it clear as day)

however.

katie rose clarke is a demon who kills props and giving her this many options was only ever going to lead to ruin

because on this night she was so unhinged in her melodramatic fall onto the bed that she richocheted the lipstick OFF, then had to catch it, then still reached for the mirror ANYWAY, and, well--

i just have to show you:

like. GIRL.

so yeah in any case "I got so much stuff in my hands" is now a household meme for me and Helen

and that too is a punctum in its own way

[saintvainglorious]

My First Fanbind! A Black Sails Fic Anthology Series

It took me a year (and a lot of anxious research) before I worked up the courage to bookbind fanfiction, and after months of on-again-off-again work, my first fanbind is finally done!

I knew that if I was going to bookbind fic, I had to bind something from the Black Sails fandom, aka the fandom and show that have had the biggest impact on my life. Y'all, I almost went into academia to study slavery in the 17th-18th century Caribbean because of this show - when folks say this show rewires your brain chemistry, they are NOT kidding. THEE show of all time. Happy 10th anniversary to Black Sails! This fandom is small but mighty. May we continue to get our hearts and souls blasted to smithereens by this show for many years to come.

Ao3 abounds with magnificent Black Sails oneshots, so I decided to put together an anthology of my favorite Silverflint fics under 20k, which I split into two volumes. Included are works by @justlikeeddie, @vowel-in-thug, @balloonstand, @annevbonny, @francisthegreat, @nysscientia, and more! Thank you, thank you all, you brilliant wonderful people, for gracing the Internet with such amazing writing. When I read the fics in these anthologies I want to fling myself into the sun.

More on the design and binding process below the cut!

Vol. 1 Page Count: 270 (12 fics) Vol. 2 Page Count: 248 (11 fics) Body Font: Sabon Next LT (10.5 pt) Title Font: Goudy Old Style Other Fonts: IM Fell English, pirates pw

The typeset (which I did in Word) took a while, mainly because I'd never done it before. Manually adjusting the hyphenation line-by-line was especially tedious. After making these books, I abandoned Word in favor of InDesign, in large part because InDesign gives you way finer control over your justification and hyphenation settings.

Regarding my actual design choices, I'm happy with how the ocean motif on the title page turned out (it's not the same pattern as my endpapers, but they're complimentary) and I'm very fond of my divider dingbats, which are little swords! Goudy Old Style was a fun title font to use, since it's the font that Black Sails uses as its logo. The stories in Vol. 1 are divided into parts based on what Silver WAS at that point in the show (cook, quartermaster, or king), and Vol. 2 is split up into comedies, histories (AUs set in the canon universe) and tragedies - befitting Black Sails' Shakespearean ~vibes~.

I stuck to a flatback binding, as I wasn't feeling quite ambitious enough to try rounding and/or backing. I've learned that I ~Anakin Skywalker voice~ hate sanding, enjoy folding/sewing, and don't LIKE edge trimming but enjoy the results enough to make it worth it.

The real adventure was decorating the cover, which remained bare for months. After agonizing over Illustrator and experimenting unsuccessfully with HTV and lokta paper embossing, I ultimately turned to using stencil vinyl to paint on the designs. There was a bit of seepage under some of the stencils, but I was able to scrape off the excess with my Cricut weeding tool without damaging the coated surface of the bookcloth (probably Arrestox Blue Ribbon from Hollander's). Even though it was very time-consuming, I'm so happy with the end result of the stenciled paint job and I intend to stick with stencils for my foreseeable future binds.

Are there things I would change? Sure. It was humid out when I printed, so the pages have got a wave. There’s an extra two pages in Vol 2. that I have no idea how I missed, and I got a line of glue in the middle of one of my Vol. 2 endpapers. I’m pretty sure I didn’t case in quite right, since my endpapers pull away from the case at the spine. I think the inner margins are a bit too big, and despite going line-by-line there’s still some wacky justification spacing in the typeset. But man, am I proud of these books! It is so satisfying to learn a new skill - MANY new skills, if we’re being honest - and to make something both beautiful and practical. If I’m still binding in two years or so, I can see myself redoing the typeset in InDesign, cutting out the existing text block, and reusing the cases. I’m also already planning for Vol. 3, which will be Silverflint Modern AUs.

Thanks for reading!

[mellosdrawings]

Twisted boys worst to best, GO!!

I'll make it my fav to my meh if thats fine with you. I fear I would spend hours on a detailed analysis for what I consider to be perfect chara design and motivations otherwise.

-Azul (perfect, 12/10, makes my autism go brr, I still need to do that full analysis for him because I love him too much and have too many thoughts, must pull)

-Jamil (perfect, 11/10, someone please give this man freedom and his weight in cookies, must pull)

-Cater (perfect, 10/10, flashy guy with completely dead eyes, reminds me of Childe, pull if possible)

-Rook (perfect, 10/10, makes my autism go brr, perfect world view ideology, rewired my brain chemistry, pull if possible)

-Idia (perfect, 10/10, peak brother, family angst makes my heart go brr, insufferable asshole, pull if possible)

-Jade (9/10, creepy, would go mushroom hunting with him so we could see who's the most autistic about fungi, sometimes pull)

-Vil (9/10, perfection, made me fall in love instantly during his chapter despite me expecting to dislike him, fawn whenever I see him, pull if possible)

-Leona (8/10, absolute asshole, insufferable dick, wish his flashback was done better so we could see how horrendous it could have truly been, plan on rewriting something someday about that, should be on the pull if possible list but I have no self control for this fucker so I always pull for him)

-Riddle (7/10, made me fall in love with the game, used to kin him in all the wrong ways lol, would've overblotted too in his place, no pull)

-Ruggie (7/10, freaky evil little guy syndrome, has the funniest synergy with Leona, love him, would pull for him if I was rich)

-Kalim (10/10, best character ever and people underestimate him and his potential too much, would smother him in kisses, despite being perfect he is still low on the list coz I'm a mess, sometimes pull)

-Floyd (7/10, creepy asshole, love his mood swings and how everybody just works around it, perfect trio with the two others, sometimes pull)

-Deuce (6/10, lovely little mama boy, doing his best, I want to cheer for him, no pull)

-Trey (6/10, perfect house husband, love how hard he tries to be normal even though he's just as much a freak as everybody else, no pull though was tempted once)

-Sebek (5/10, I see potential but I'm not yet familiar with him, golden retriever vibe, would give him a smooch, no pull though I was tempted once)

-Silver (5/10, not familiar with him yet but he has very interesting themes, no pull)

-Epel (5/10, little dick, needs to learn to move past his misogyny and I love that theme for him, but keeps being done dirty by the story who refuses to have him learn the lesson, no pull)

-Lilia (4/10, should be one of my fav coz I absolutely love the "retired war god who settled down to become a father" trope, but I just can't get the spark with him for some reason..., no pull though I was tempted once)

-Ortho (5/10, best baby bro, has a lot of potential, but rarely ever used properly, no pull)

-Jack (4/10, best tsundere boy but kinda boring in my opinion, no pull)

-Ace (5/10, very good character but I would've blocked him so hard coz I can't stand that kind of behavior lol, no pull)

-Malleus (3/10, just like Lilia his trope is usually one I love but I seriously can't care about him no matter how hard I try, no pull)

Others:

-Crowley (10/10, peak character, would punch him in the face if he was real, must pull)

-Sam (9/10, very interesting, would love to see his card or have him more often on screen, would pull)

-Crewel (9/10, dom daddy, gives a mix of Vil and Leona vibe lol, must pull)

-Trein (9/10, father and widower, cat dad, would make him tea and scones, must pull)

-Vargas (3/10, surprisingly one dimensional when the game is so good at fully fleshing its characters, waiting to see more)

-Rollo (9/10, absolute asshole, desperately needs a hug and therapy, should also probably go in prison lol, very interesting fodder for Idia, would have pulled if I had any extra gems)

-Fellow and Gidel (10/10, brothers, assholes, completely out if it and loving them for it, still need to read their stories but I already love them, must pull)

-Skully/Skelly (10/10, looks like the weirdest little shit, super cringe, already loving him but still need to see, must pull)

[myrsinemezzo]

Haladriel Positivity Post #2

Okay my darlings, my dears! Haladriel has changed our brain chemistry, clearly. For the better?? I think so. This post is a shout out to the fandom for changing my very outlook on guilt and morality and art. Because of the creative works from amazing haladriel writers, artists, and editors, I went from “no thank you I will certainly NOT be having a helping of any dove, dead or otherwise. Or kink. Or abo. Or or or…” Seriously, my bookmarks on ao3 were so tame. Because to me, ETL and Haladriel made loads of sense as a brand of ship that had nothing to do with my moral standing.

They were more than the sum of their parts. He wasn’t just evil, she wasn’t just good. They were a mess of squishy complicated emotions and parts. (And none more squishier than you, gooron post-Adar slaying, amirite?)

But I turned my nose up at a whole heap of other things even as I loved these two crazy kids/immortal beings. Then I dove deeper into fandom and discovered that there were whole worlds I had closed off. And those worlds were shockingly good.

Because if I can enjoy “Sauron shoving the ultimate Morgul blade into Galadriel’s chest in an erotically charged manner and then getting very lip wobbly emo about it afterwards”, then I can also read and write and view a passel of things that force me to look (or that tilt my chin up gently with a sword point — potato potato) at things that push my boundaries.

So thank you to all who create literally anything for this fandom but in particular today to those who love to experiment with pushing buttons and boundaries.

Bonus: Some recs! And please if you’re reading this feel free to share your own if so inclined. I love encountering new things and being reminded of things to revisit!

This fic, “the law is reason (free from passion)” by @hazelmaines was I think my first abo fic ever? I would read hazel’s grocery list and find it enthralling so I gave it a shot and to my surprise was fascinated by the world building involved with abo and wowee did it bring the hot sauce when it came to haladriel as a pairing. Lawyers with voracious appetites for each other? Sign me up. I didn’t even burst into a pillar of flame afterwards (or I mean, I did but not like that…)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50193469

Next up is the BDSM fic series that rewired my brain by @softlighter the one, the only “catharsis”. Reading about a powerful woman learning to accept herself for who she is and maybe even love what she sees in the end(??) is something that makes me weep and broke a lot of barriers for me, including realizing I wasn’t going to turn into a pillar of ash or salt or whatever other biblical metaphor you like from reading it. Whoever recommended this, I want to kiss you right on the mouth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47895979

Getting into the dead dove side of things, nothing lives rent free in my noggin and made me think about how art can be disturbing and beautiful and incredibly effective at making you look inward at the same time like “the shark in your water” by @bad-surprise. Holy wow. Poeticmemory’s Halbrands always fascinate me but this one is the embodiment of that one shot in that one haladriel scene in that one gif 👇where I absolutely cannot look away and feel every emotion in the book

Treat yourself with care if you decide to try this treat of a fic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45286258

I am still absolutely blown away by the two most recent works I’m including in this list. The first is this beautifully disturbing edit by @snezhjeyka set to alt-j’s “breezeblocks”. It is the definition of lyrical and haunting.

The second is the fic it later inspired by @czernyfanclub aka bluececilia on ao3. (That dedication makes me weep, pal 😭) The dove is dead as all get-out and yet the language?? The imagery?? As admirable as old Mairon himself.

Ok. That’s it for now! I’ll try to post again whenever I have another brainwave of what I love about this fandom, because damn do I love what it has done for me personally and for so many others.

Eat, Pray, ETL. Or something.

[veritas-scribblings]

nail - @black-brothers-microfic - words: 618

Remus has always wanted to think that he’s better than this. He’s bigger than this. He’s an educated man. He is cultured. He is moral. He is learned. 

Remus is more.

“Top five,” Sirius says with a laugh. He rolls over onto his back, lights his habitual, post-coital cigarette and takes a long, exaggerated drag. For effect, Remus thinks, because Sirius Black is Sirius Black, and therefore he can never do anything quietly. “That’s gotta be…at least..in our top five.”

Remus doesn’t humour him with a reply. The queasy, uneasy feeling of reality is already starting to drain to his stomach and drown out the temporary high he had been riding.

It’s because Sirius is beautiful, Remus thinks. He’s larger than life. Even in his darkest, lowest of moments, there’s always been something alluringly striking about him. Something deeply, overwhelmingly intoxicating. 

And Remus had taken a sip from the chalice when he was an inexperienced youth of sixteen, and it’s a taste that’s stayed with him ever since.

 “I’m starving.” Sirius stretches, back arcing in a remarkably feline way. He’s long limbs, kilometres of creamy, milky skin. Long silky black tresses spilling over his shoulders.

He’s grown his hair long again; he does this every once in a while. Long-haired Sirius screams of confidence, a self-assuredness that is fiercely attractive on him and not always (not always) put on. The only time Sirius ever cuts his hair is when he’s experiencing a crisis. When his life has been turned on his head. When he’s contemplating change.

He did this in his fifth year. And again right after graduation. And again a couple of years later, after that one particularly nasty break up (amidst a sea of tumultuous break ups crashing against their lives) that had Remus almost convinced that their tight-knit four-way friendship was about to become a three-way friendship. Because why would they ever choose Remus when they could choose Sirius.

Sirius who is beautiful. Who is intelligent. Who is charismatic, magnetic, larger than life.

Sirius is long-haired again. And long-haired Sirius knows exactly what he wants. And what he wants is apparently Remus.

“We could go for a meal,” Remus says, shrugging on a jumper. “Get some…couscous…around…Covent Garden…” 

He tries—and fails—to not look over his shoulder at where Sirius is spread out naked on his bed like a mannequin in the window of a shop. Like the centre spread of the kind of magazine Sirius would hide under his mattress when they were at school together as teenagers and pretend he didn’t know how it ever got to be there.

Sirius grins when he spots Remus staring and stretches a long, bare leg. There’s a look on his face that says: this is another bad idea in a string of six very, very bad ideas. And he’s here for it. For the fights. And the make-up sex. And the fights. And the flirtations. And the fights. And the hate sex. And the jealousyandthepossessivenessandtheresentmentandthetoxicity.

And the sex.

Sometimes Remus thinks that it’s only because of the sex. They would be willing to stay friends if they weren’t so sexually compatible. He’s sure they wouldn’t otherwise keep coming back and back and back to each other. But the sex has forever rewired Remus’s brain chemistry, forever shifted the baseline of Remus’s life. And now, apparently, they’re both willing to persist through the thick, dense swap of drama that is them when they’re together.

Honestly, Remus is kinda here for it all too.

“I don’t want any filthy couscous,” Sirius says rolling his eyes. “I’ve worked up an appetite. It’s steak or nothing. Top five, Moony. Surely that’s a reason to celebrate.” 

[gffa]

True enlightenment as a fan of a franchise full of ridiculous bullshit was reaching the point where I was tired of hating on the thing I'm supposedly meant to like and instead go, you know what, I've been into this thing for 20+ years, maybe I could just like stuff? Maybe I could even just like some of the dumber bullshit, laugh about it, and have a good time with it and maybe that will actually give me a stronger dopamine boost than hating something??? Real Nirvana: Rewiring my brain chemistry so I don't have to be mad about Star Wars or comic books, one "this is so ridiculous, I'm going to laugh about it" step at a time.

[emerxshiu]

Kirby And The Forgotten 3rd Anniversary - Part 1

"Eco of my reborn soul"

I know it isnt the 25 yet but still, happy 3rd anniversary to the game that rewired my brain chemistry and rots my mind away (seriously i cant stop thinking about it) as much as i love it, the game makes me sad, it makes me sad i'll never get to experience it again like the first time, that ill never be able to play it completly blind (i already knew lots before i got the game) no matter how many times i replay it it will never be the same, it keeps aging and i do the same alongside it, knowing that ill never be able to go back to what once was, just thinking about the game makes me so happy, so happy it doesnt let me sleep, so happy i have to run around my room and jump, but it also makes me sad, so sad a lump forms in my throat, so sad it makes me so nervous of everything. im absurdly attached to this game and the characters.

And strangely, all of this reminds me of fecto, believe it or not. while i dislike the tought of fecto elfilis and forgo being the same character, i do like, chaos elfilis and forgo being one, its just forgo, sure morpho's soul is in there, and the other beast pack souls, but, that IS fecto forgo want to admit it or not. it should probably look like mix between morpho and forgo, yet it looks almost the same as elfilis, no matter what it went trough, no matter how much time goes by, they still cling to its former glory as fecto elfilis, an angel, a divine being, even tough its long gone.

being set on an abandoned planet with visible signs of aging doesnt help this certain bittersweet feling the game causes in me.

I tend to play forgotten land at least once a month, usually i only collect some coins and then do lab discovera again, lately i had been forgetting that, and today when i played it it felt, so different, i was on the verge of tears half of the time, especially hearing the music for some reason, remembering all the light-hearted memories i have in that little cartridge, how id take pictures of every cutscene frame, how i made two very stupid errors and only survived on a sliver of health the chaos elfilis and never did the ultimate cup z again because i did not want my deaths to extend beyond my already failed treasure roads. Aahh, sorry this game is so very dear to me and i talk lots about it, most of my content is about it, i think daily about it. and i cant help but share this love with everyone. and sorry for the incoherence i dont actually know to express my feelins well so everything ends up being redundant.

I should probably talk about the drawing now, the whole time thing i just talked about? i think no better drawing of mine to accompany that this one, sure, there isnt any symbolism or whatever of that in there, but its the external thing, i started this ‎the 2nd of may of 2024 around ‏‎21:27:39. yet i only recently finished it on the 22 of this month, thats 2 months away from a year! tough i have to be honest in a majority of those months i wasnt making any progress. tough if you follow me and seen some posts of mine, you can see wips of it, back when i was coloring, and when i said id post this when i returned, also yeah im returning fully today even tough technically its tomorrow, the actual anniversary. ejem- continuing, so, this is to me one of my most iconic drawings i have made, not for being popular or anything, but by the history i have with it, funny that i consider my drawing for katfl's 2nd anniversary my most iconic, tough i mostly mean the sai2 version i never finished. and also this was my first try doing lineless art, even tough it could be better i kinda think i did good, and ive started liking doing lineless, so expect it to be a bit more common in my drawings from now on. oh and also what holded me back the most from completion was the background god the background for some reason i tough itd be a good idea to fill it with something (i think its obvious what i wrote there but ill refrain from saying) and have it be written in forgotten land's lenguage.... done by hand, mostly due to me not having the font back then and more recently when i was finishing, i liked the idea of it being handwritten more, and i still do prefer it, but because this idea popped into my mind, but basically, i wanted it to look like its trying its hardest to be organized, clean, perfect. yet it looks off as it slowly degrades and progressively becomes shakier. an organized chaos, sorry i dont know how to explain, but uhhh

that took me 2 days to write, and it barely reaches 4 lines, sure, i could have done it faster if i concentrated and stuff, but hands do start to hurt after hours of redoing and redoing the letters because you cant just get them right. So i ended up using the font

Also, it was made during my trying to redesign my chaos elfilis era so bad thing, i still have to redesign my gijinka and set on one so thats gonna be fun! ...its even more fun how the drawing has a gijinka that is practically only gonna be seen on this one and i still have to change it yippie...

The part 1 you say? (if you noticed) well well well...as much as said i think this drawings as iconic to me, and how much i spent on it and everything, i find it quite underwhelming, and also i did not want to post a year old drawing for the anniversary, so i did another one, but i wanted to return with this one as promised, but i also wanted a more recent drawing for katfl and being the ever work obsessed katlf addicted i am, basically, uh, im gonna be celebrating katfl's anniversary whole week, maybe even more days than that the lenghts i go for this game man...id even get my memory wiped just to experience it again. i wanna bake a cake in its honor, i want to learn to sew and make plushies to those left forgotten in the game. i want to do those figures. i want to eat the game. dare i say it will be the cause of my death? /ref

You shouln't keep Chaos Elfilis waiting soon tough,

Let's go play with them!

edittt: forgot to mention this silly thing but while drawing and writing for the entire time i was listening to the dream discoveries tour and eternal echo of the thrilling tour-our-our on loop for a completly and truly sane and inmersive experience and i did not want to make it shut up at all

[ddlcbrainrot]

i loveee all your thoughts abt the girls !! do u have any moniyuri hcs they like rewired my brain chemistry

HSJDJD SAME i did not get this ship at all until one day light bulbs suddenly lit up in my brain and ive never been the same since. I gotta say there is not enough content of them, except of a few one-shots here and there

So, Monika and Yuri have always been a very interesting duo imo because they are weirdly similar despite being polar opposites tropes on paper (popular girl / loner girl ). I mean, all the girls have something in common with one another but in different ways. I think both of them are really socially awkward, Yuri of course more so, with the main difference being the way they handle it. Yuri’s way of dealing with her lack of social skills is closing up, not really putting herself out there because if she does she will probably make a fool of herself, while Monika takes a more “fake it till you make it” approach (which actually works quite well considering she is the most popular girl in school and everything). Anyway, this has somehow turned into me just talking about Yuri and Monika let me backpedal to the headcanons lmao

I already mentioned their tropes, but yeah popular girl x loner girl goes HARD

We know from act 3 that Monika loves to just sit back and talk about whatever random thoughts pop in her head and Yuri loves to listen to her ramble. Sometimes Yuri gets excited about something (her books, her DND campaign, you name it) and she starts rambling to Monika. They just love talking to each other endlessly about nothing and everything

Monika is straight up obsessed with Yuri. Like, she cannot go five minutes without mentioning her if she’s having a conversation with someone else. And when Yuri is in the room? Good luck getting her attention, she’s too busy making googly eyes at her

I’d like to think the way they would get together would be the most normal one out of all the pairings, since both of them are the more outwardly mature ones of the club, but I also think they are not as mature as they would like to make you think (especially in a regard like this one). The confession would either be very organic or very awkward I really don’t know

In my natsuri headcanons I said Yuri is the little spoon, but that was with natsuki. Monika is the littlest spoon that has ever littled spooned in the history of little spooning. I will not be taking notes on this.

Both are extremely touch deprived btw, but both of them are also awkward enough to not know how to ask for cuddles, hugs, ect. Monika probably breaks out of this first tho, meaning she is the one that mostly initiates outside of a few exceptions

Yuri is always taken aback by how affectionate Monika is (mostly verbally, but also physically sometimes). She definitely doesn’t feel as comfortable being that affectionate constantly herself (especially in public) but that’s because her way of showing affection is in smaller acts that speak a lot, which Monika finds extremely sweet

I’ve seen some people headcanon that Yuri listens to classical music, so maybe Monika plays her piano sonnets from time to time

also i think they borrow each others clothes

Bonus :

Monika : “Would you still love me if I was a worm? :(“

Yuri : “Yeah, of course.” *…Why would she be a worm???*