#thank you God for letting me do this

[teawizard]

Fangirling over a fictional man is so hard. Wish he would appreciate it

(initial sketches under the cut)

[egophiliac]

time for skeleman

with the lack of any other info yet, all I can focus on are those Charles Lloyd-looking sunglasses. they are absolutely sending me. I feel like we're gonna fall through a tree or whatever and this stitched-up boney gentleman is gonna pop out from behind a gravestone and start serenading us with some smooth jazz on the saxophone.

or should I say...the saxoBONE???????

[yuwuta]

JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS

head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn….. 

satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.

megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.

i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words. 

also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..

don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money 

nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)

[wernerherzogs]

buck and eddie's red, hot, infidelity summer!

boys, when my baby found me by nondz (pinkjook) @hunybody (wip, emotional infidelity)

Three months later, things are mostly back to normal.

And then there's an accident.

something touched me (like a knife-blade) by kithmet @kithmet (emotional infidelity)

Eddie self-implodes. Christopher, seeking refuge, flees to Buck—whose priorities amount to, in varying order: take in the kid, get Eddie to talk to him, and keep the three of them afloat in the process. (Oh, and Tommy’s there too. He thinks.)

baby did a bad bad thing by Wildehack (tyleet) @wildehacked

This is just the worst idea, right, classic Buckley, a grade-A fuckup, a five-alarm fire, a pin pulled out of a grenade and tossed into Buck’s life, and he’s so stupid that he’s on his knees and moaning for it.

we can act a fool by detectivemeer @buick118

“You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. For both of you.” Buck’s eyes are stupid Hollywood blue and even in the dim light they glare electric. Intensified by Buck’s hushed, fevered sincerity. “You know that.”

you and tequila make me crazy by cranberrymoons @cranberrymoons (emotional infidelity)

His arm is still draped over Eddie’s shoulders, hand still holding the other side of his head, and he shifts so that his fingers push up into the hair at the back of his neck, thumb slotting up against his ear.

closer than my hands have been by cranberrymoons @cranberrymoons (emotional infidelity)

Eddie never feels easy.

Tommy feels easy, but Eddie – he doesn’t.

yes god don't speak by detectivemeer @buick118

“You’re staring.”

“What.” Eddie says. “No I’m not.” 

i didn't even know that i was cold by teaspoon @standback

The first time is mostly an accident.

in the sun or in the shade by detectivemeer @buick118

“Yeah—yeah, okay. I mean, most of the stuff is the same?” Buck scruffs a hand through his hair, sliding back into his chair, long legs arrowing outward. “Like, obviously ass-play, stuff like that, that’s not new.”

We're Running With Our Eyes Closed by semperama @semperama

Buck shows up at exactly the wrong time to tell Eddie about what happened with Lucy.

nothing wrong with me loving you by cranberrymoons @cranberrymoons

He’s not thinking about it. He’s not. He’s definitely not.

[wellcollapse]

EVAN BUCKLEY + THE DESIRE TO BE SEEN

↳ bonus:

[lunar-wandering]

do y'all think Macaque is falling back into the role that Azure and the others put on him by remaining on the outskirts of the group because he thinks his input/presence is unwanted (and yeah his presence isn't really wanted by MK and the others BUT. something about the fact Macaque is placing himself at the edge of the group, the edge that Azure and the others pushed him to, doesn't really sit well)

[rockabye-rinzler]

inspired by @measlyscrapofseafood 's beautiful idea to just COVER this boy in blood (plus 2 fun lil bonuses)

~☆~

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

[zylphiacrowley]

what if we...

<previous - next>

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[egophiliac]

(incoherent bird soldier screeching)

okay, I'm ready, I'm totally ready, I --

(even more incoherent bird soldier screeching)

[theeroticlover]

In the end it's only you and the fire burning within you that helps you sail through...

Ups and downs are part of our lives...

I know you will sail through, just keep going...

Also on a personal level I feel very grateful... Thank you very much for all the love and affection you'll have given me...

Take care, Keep Smiling !!! Cheers 🥂

[monst]

Hopefully there's some Bridgerton fans here:

You know how each season has that one confession scene. I know people would hc Jason as saying Anthony's "Your the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires" but I firmly believe he'd be on that farmer George shit.

"I love you! From the mo- from the moment I saw you try to go over the wall. I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near, I love you, (your name lol). My heart calls your name..."

[jade-len]

you know it's bad when i read svsss and tgcf, stories about just two guys falling in love and getting together, and think, "god i wish i were in between them."

gay little domestic cottage core life with binghe and qingqiu? please and thank you. being sandwiched by hua cheng and xie lian, two pretty men who are hundreds of years old? i am blushing, kicking my feet and giggling

and again, it's not even that i would want only one of them. like in both of the relationships, the two love each other too much to the point it'd feel wrong if they were separated! it wouldn't feel complete, so you gotta be with both of them!

but that's the thing; i just?? i feel so incredibly guilty whenever i think about being loved by these mxtx couples??? like it's so stupid but i feel like i'm intruding in on something and it's like, everyone else seems to just want them together only, not wanna be with them. like it's fuckin taboo or whatever

i feel like with any other character from any other media it'd be fine to simp for and write/read x readers of them, but when it comes to these books, it's off limits! no way, what are you, crazy? yes, yes i'm unhinged and desperately want their love and affection simultaneously. i want to be in a happy little poly relationship with these overpowered beautiful men with long hair.

i can't be the only guy or whoever to feel this way?? to wanna be kissed by these characters? sandwiched?? i have two hands for christ sake and they all look so happy together and im just like "lord i wanna be with them so much". someone tell me i'm not alone cmon <\3

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

what kind of favour do you require in exchange for an equineswap jiang yanli

I will fight god if that's what it takes.

No favour required! These guys were in the original doodle dump!

[virescent-v]

I’ve always wanted to see a fic surrounding this: the aftermath of Emily’s rescue from Mr Scratch. Maybe a fluffy bath moment at home or sweet smut vibes?

Aftermath

A/N: Bestie! I loved this idea. Tbh, I had to watch that ep first because I had no idea who Mr Scratch was. I'm only on s5 of my watch through hahaha. But I watched it, and wrote this! I hope it does it some justice. I think this is really my first take at a hurt/comfort fic.

Word Count: 1.6k (I broke my less than 1k word challenge, oops) Warnings: honeslty, not too much. There is some slight smut tho.

You were told to wait at home. But the wait was excruciating. 

You hadn’t gotten many details from Penelope other than Emily had been kidnapped, drugged, and had gotten rescued. She was otherwise unharmed. You only knew that she was chasing a high profile psychopath; someone that had even Hotchner running into WITSEC. 

So, you were waiting. Impatiently. For your girlfriend to come home. So you could check her over yourself, especially since you knew she wasn’t going to be responsible and go to the hospital. 

You were broken out of your inner anxious ramblings by Emily stumbling through the front door, all but dropping her bags at her feet and practically running right to you. 

“Em,” you whispered, gathering her in your arms. You could feel her slightly shaking, the adrenaline of everything finally crashing on her. “You’re home, baby, and safe. You’re safe now,” you said, continuing to whisper sweet words to her, rubbing your hands on her back, helping to wear off some of the epinephrine coursing through her. 

You tried to pull away, so you could look at her, really look at her, but her arms shot out and grabbed you around your waist, pulling you even closer to her. Like she was trying to burrow into you. 

“Not yet,” she whispered, her nose dragging up the side of your neck, breathing in your perfume. 

“Okay, okay.” 

It takes a couple of minutes; you can feel Emily mouthing something against your skin, as if she’s trying to ground herself, reminding herself that she’s not with him anymore. Eventually, though, she loosens her grip on you, allowing you to look at her face for the first real time since she got home. 

When your eyes connect, you can see the tears shining in hers. You can feel the weight of her stare, silently communicating between the two of you. 

I almost died. 

But you didn’t, love. You’re home. 

You trail your hand up her arm, across her shoulder, and over her heart. 

You’re alive. You’re safe. 

As you tap your pointer finger on her chest in time with her heartbeat, she takes a shuddering breath, a few tears finally making their way down her cheek. She blinks a few times, not trying to hide the emotion escaping her, before taking a deep breath that seems to use all of her remaining energy. 

“Can- can we take a bath?” She asks, timidly. As if you would ever deny her anything. 

You don’t say anything. You just grasp her hand in yours and lead her to your bathroom. You sit her on the toilet, tucking some of her stray hair behind her ears. You reach over to your oversized tub, turning the water to just on the side of scalding. The temperature Emily prefers. 

As the tub fills, you watch Emily, rubbing your hands on her knees. She’s still occasionally shaking, but not as badly as when she came in. Her gaze isn’t focused on anything, worrying you that she might start receding back to memories from earlier. You know she’ll be hit with nightmares later, something you’ve dealt with before and know how to handle. You just want to prevent that for right now. 

Once the tub is full, you add some bath water oils, a eucalyptus smell. You’ve found that it’s better for keeping Emily calm over lavender or vanilla smells. 

You start to strip, placing your clothes in the hamper. Emily still isn’t focusing on anything, her eyes settled on her hands on her lap. She isn’t even registering that the bath is ready, so you approach her quietly. 

“Em, baby, the bath is ready. You need to get undressed.” 

Her eyes tracked up your body, but there wasn’t her normal heat in her gaze. Only as if she was making sure that it was really you. 

When your eyes connected, you had to stop yourself from gasping. Her eyes were turning red from trying not to cry, almost overflowing with unshed tears. 

You crouched down in front of her, your nude form not even a worry. You rubbed your thumbs across her cheeks, trying to get her to release her emotions. You’d take them from her if you could. 

Emily feels your thumbs rubbing back and forth, letting your love for her ground her to this moment. Eventually, she closes her eyes tight, all of the tears breaking free, and she starts to sob. She collapses into you, burrowing into your neck again. This time, you can hear her mumbling, wheels up, I’m home, wheels up, I’m home over and over again. A mantra. 

You give her a few minutes, letting her get out most of the current wave of emotion. You know it’ll hit her again later, likely many times, and you know you’ll take them all in stride. Anything for her. 

Another deep breath, another slow release from you. You reach over and grab some toilet paper, wiping at her teary, snotty face. You can tell she almost cracks a smile at the noise her nose makes when she blows it into the tissue; she’s slowly coming back to herself. 

After you toss the tissue in the trash, you grab the hem of her shirt. Tugging on it, Emily raises her arms, allowing you to undress her. There’s no sexual charge to your movements; this is purely emotional, intimate connection between you and your girl. 

You get in the tub first, spreading your legs so Emily can settle between them. Usually, she’s behind you, always pampering you. It’s only on rare occasions do you get to be the one caring for her, so you take pride in your movements, your ability to calm her when she most needs it. 

As she settles in front of you, you feel the last of her energy leave her. The hot water around you soothing sore muscles, easing her overworked nervous system. Her heart rate starts to slow, her breaths becoming deeper, slower, longer. 

While you know that her body is physically relaxing, you know that her mind is not. 

You never get the details of the case. She never wants to burden you with the gruesomeness of her job, doesn’t want you to worry more than you already do. Emily’s a profiler, can read anyone in the room and pinpoint their motives. But you’ve become an expert in Emily. 

You help her through the aftermath as best as you can, providing her with the space to unwind in whatever what she deems necessary - or whatever way her body deems necessary. Sometimes it’s a hot bath and a good meal, sometimes it’s body-wracking sobs on the couch, and sometimes it’s taking her to the local gym to spar with someone and let her anger out. 

You see sides of your girlfriend that you know no one else has or ever will. She’s a strong, independent person with walls taller than Everest. Somehow, you’ve managed to climb them, repel down them, and settle in. Emily let you settle in, let you unwind the barb wire around her heart. You’d protect it with your life. 

You start rubbing a soft cloth with your body wash across Emily’s body; she’s always taken comfort in your smell after a bad case. You make sure to go slow, not knowing what happened to her, not wanting to trigger anything unknowingly. 

As you reach her bent knees, you feel her flinch a little. You stop immediately, trying to check in with her again. She’s mouthing the same mantra: Wheels up, I’m home, wheels up…

“Em? Do your legs hurt?” 

A slight shake of her head. No pain, which likely means it’s something mentally. 

You continue slowly, letting her feel the cloth on her legs. “Open your eyes, Em. Your legs are okay.” 

You watch the side of her face, watch as her eyes blink open, watch as her eyes track your hands up and down her leg. 

Another deep, shuddering breath as you feel her relax back into you. She continues to watch your movements, her eyes growing more focused as they move back up her torso. 

“I need,” a whisper, caught in the dryness of her throat; she clears it before trying again. “I need you to touch me.” 

You release the cloth, notice it float away to the end of the tub. Your hands wrap around her, settling lower on her belly, resting there. You watch the side of her face again. “You sure?” 

You would never take advantage of her, not while she’s vulnerable. You’ve had this conversation before, about how sometimes after certain cases she just needs to feel connected to you, feel intertwined with something that is real.  

She turns to look at you, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers a strong, steady, “love me,” against your lips.  

She trails her hand to yours, interlocks your fingers, before bringing both of them down to her core. Interconnected, simultaneously, you start rubbing slow, steady circles on her clit, working her up easily, lovingly. 

Each brush of your fingers against her has her twitching, rolling her hips into your hands. Her head thrown back against your shoulder, you can see her feeling you, feeling your love for her. The only thing on her mind now is her, you, and the way that you make her feel. Each stroke of your fingers is a promise, a vow to protect her, keep her safe, love her. It’s a love letter of all of the things you wish you could voice, of all of the ways you care for her. 

As she nears her peak, your lips find her ear as you whisper over and over I love you, you’re home, I love you… 

Her back arches against you, her hips pressing more fully into your hand. You help her ride through the waves, gathering her in your arms as she settles back down. Your lips brush light kisses around her temple and cheek as she catches her breath. 

“I love you,” she says. “I’m home.”