#the one I'll be remaking today

[sorryiliketoscreenshot]

⤷ Inquisitor Nethras Lavellan

[sansaisms]

Arya never seemed to fit, no more than he had … yet she could always make Jon smile. He would give anything to be with her now, to muss up her hair once more and watch her make a face, to hear her finish a sentence with him. — Jon Snow III, A Game of Thrones.

[torveiglyart]

So you know how each post has 3 pages? And I've posted 24 parts?

How in the world have I made 72 images for this. And more to come.

Jesus Christ, I need a life.

[slugpup2]

ryoshu that was going to be for 4/4, but i was too busy with school and playing canto 6. i tried making a detailed background for this one, but i didn't like how it turned out so that version is below the cut.

i had a really good image for this in my head but i rushed in without much planning, especially on the perspective... oh well. cityscapes are hard.

[jockpoetry]

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Viago de Riva & Rook Characters: Maraas de Riva, Lucanis Dellamorte, Viago de Riva, Andarateia Cantori, Illario Dellamorte, Caterina Dellamorte, Original Characters, Veilguard Ensemble Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Trans Male Character, Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship Series: Part 5 of odds & ends & addendums (a follow up to did you know that crows mate for life?) Summary: on ascension, on grief, on rage, and what it means to get revenge. or The Fifth Talon, Viago de Riva, has been murdered.

[promiscxous]

{ It's time to say hello to the parentals for the Yumishi siblings! And yes, that's right, you count four parents. Two sets. Why? Because the Yumishi family is actually very convoluted compared to most normal families. }

{ First off we have Lucifer, who can be found over on @resxntmxnt once I get everything settled, as the biological father of both Myth (who is also over at @resxntmxnt) and Rain (who's over at @negligxnce). He is the ruler of Meikai no Ryōiki, also commonly referred to as the Realm of the Underworld, altering his original seraphic genetics with dark magic to turn himself into a being known solely as the Demon Lord, yet due to having originally been a seraph, he possesses the ability to shapeshift. Lucifer was the original lover of Kisuyo Yumishi, happening upon her by sheer chance within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, also known as the Realm of the Living (aka the human world), one day when she was being attacked by a group of humans that believed her to be the leader of a cultist group (due to the fact she is heavily religious while the mortals of Seikatsu no Ryōiki have no religion/do not believe in religion of any sort); and despite Lucifer's reputation of being a cruel and mischievous being, he went out of his way to rescue her by slaughtering the humans responsible for her injuries.

Once certain that she was safe, Lucifer began to tend to her wounds with his magic, trying to keep conversation to a minimum though this did not last long due to Kisuyo's curious nature, leading for Lucifer and Kisuyo to eventually develop a strong bond for one another — thus resulting in the birth of Myth and Rain. Yet despite this, Lucifer did not stick around for his lover nor his children and ended up returning to Meikai no Ryōiki, leaving Kisuyo with two children to care for all on her own due to the fact that Kisuyo would not be able to survive within Meikai no Ryōiki. He is devastated by the news of Kisuyo's death.

Secondly we have Michael, who can be found over at @anxmosxty once everything is settled over there, as the biological father of Koui and Yuuela (who is also over at @anxmosxty). He is the ruler of Serafu no Ryōiki, also commonly referred to as the Realm of the Seraph, proudly taking his duties as a seraph to heart, earning him the title of Head Angel by those within Serafu no Ryōiki and as a seraph, he possesses the ability to shapeshift. Michael is the second lover of Kisuyo Yumishi, though unlike Lucifer who was willing to care for her, Michael instead was disgusted with her and the fact she had two children with a man she wasn't married to, often pretending to seem kindhearted towards the woman only to judge her in secret. The only reason he would actively spend time with her every day was because of a rumor he'd overheard from the other seraphs about a woman who had given birth to a pair of twins that possessed unnatural abilities for human children, thus he took every chance he could to get close to her and her boys. Though during his time with Kisuyo, he soon discovers that despite all the reticule she receives from the mortals within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, she stills holds tightly to her faith in the Goddess, which in turn makes Michael begin to view Kisuyo in a different light.

Within time, Michael realizes he's fallen in love with Kisuyo, thus resulting in the births of Koui and Yuuela. Unlike Lucifer, Michael is consistent with his daily visits to spend time with his children and Kisuyo, even going out of his way to treat Myth and Rain as his own. Though, once word gets out that the woman from the rumors has had two more children with unnatural abilities and has her identity revealed, Michael stops visiting Kisuyo and her children out of fear of being casted out of Serafu no Ryōiki by the current Goddess, Heiliger, once she discovers that the children born are a forbidden species known as hybrids — constituted of a law that forbids other species from breeding with anyone other than their respective species — and have a contract placed on their heads to be exterminated as soon as possible alongside their mother. He is devastated by the news of Kisuyo's death.

Third we have Kisuyo Yumishi, who can be found here, as the biological mother of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. She is a resident of the more olden timed area of Seikatsu no Ryōiki (because Seikatsu no Ryōiki is home to a more olden timed section and a more modern timed section of the realm for those who prefer the more technologically advanced lifestyle or those who prefer the more dated lifestyle), also known as the Realm of the Living, and is presumed to be a human woman by those within the world of Mir Ender. In reality, Kisuyo is actually the daughter of the Goddess, The Sacred One, thus making her a demi-god and serves as a vessel for the Goddess' will within the various realms of Mir Ender. Despite not seeming to possess any abilities, she can actually see the future and share her sight with The Sacred One, but doing so requires a lot of angelic energy and can overwhelm her senses thus why she wears a black cloth over her eyes, leading many to believe that she is blind. Kisuyo is the second oldest child of The Sacred One, being the younger sister of Oizys (the Archfiend of Melancholy), the older sister of Adios (the Saint of Humility), and the older sister of Sophrosyne (the Saint of Temperance), meanwhile Adephagia is the Archfiend of Gluttony. Each of said sisters possessing a mortal name for their travels among the other realms: Adios known as Oka, Sophrosyne known as Maleia, and Adephagia being known as Kisuyo. Oizys is the only one of the sisters to not possess a mortal name out of disinterest in hiding her true identity, thus her sisters simply call her by the name "El" within Seikatsu no Ryōiki among mortals.

Before having her children, Kisuyo was sent to live within Seikatsu no Ryōiki by The Sacred One in order glean how the mortals were fairing in their daily lives, making gathering intel much easier so The Sacred One can make the lives of her residents easier if need be by sending one of her daughters to assist the morals in their true forms (and not as "mortals"). During her time within Seikatsu no Ryōiki, Kisuyo plays the role of a devote worshiper to The Sacred One, serving as a shrine maiden at the Holy Chruch of Heiliger, additionally teaching her children about her religion and convincing them to believe as well. After being abandon by both of her lovers, Kisuyo is then hunted down by an assassin and is killed in front of her children while on their way to the Holy Church of Heiliger for their daily worship, though she does not actually die due to being a demi-god and instead is simply comatose for a time being (until Oizys is able to retrieve her body and awaken her), yet this is unbeknownst to her children who believe she was murdered.

Lastly we have Sire, who can be found over at @prurixncy once everything is settled there, as the biological "mother" of Nikusui (who is also over at @prurixncy) and Inori (who is over at @vxinglxry). You're probably wondering why I said "mother" and not mother. Well, that's because Sire isn't actually a woman in her true form, but is instead a man and said man is Lucifer. Yes, that's right. I said Lucifer. The man I talked about all the way at the top of the post. That Lucifer. Myth and Rain's dad, Lucifer. Demon Lord Lucifer. The one and the same. "Why the hell would Lucifer become a woman to have two children?" Because he blames Michael for the death of Kisuyo and wanted to get back at him for taking away the only woman he loved so dearly, just like Michael believes that Lucifer is the one who took Kisuyo away from him. The both of them believe that the other is responsible for the death of Kisuyo. Why? Because they are both sworn enemies and have always been at odds ever since the incident involving The Sacred One and The Twelve Saints of The Sacred One/The Twelve Heavenly Virtues due to the fact they were both present at the time. The incident that caused The Sacred One to fall into a catatonic state and the divide of The Twelve Heavenly Virtues, which in turn also created the false Goddess known as The Forsaken One and The Seven Archfiends of The Forsaken One. Lucifer and Michael don't trust one another and know that the other would be more than willing to do anything to take away the other's happiness if they could. And yes, they're both aware they fell in love with the same woman.

Basically, Lucifer decides that the best way to exact his revenge on Michael is to become a woman that he can trust and love and become so deeply intertwined with that he simply can't live without her. And that is exactly what happens. Lucifer becomes Sire and acts as a beacon of hope for Michael while he secretly (because he can't let anyone know he was involved with Kisuyo) mourns the lost of his lover and the inevitable loss of his children (since they're being hunted). Sire becomes Michael's crutch. And during a moment of weakness, Sire repeatedly takes advantage of Michael's desperation for his deceased lover, resulting in the births of Nikusui and Inori. Though much like he did with Myth and Rain, he takes Michael's new children away from him and leaves them with Warwick, someone that worships and follows Lucifer, to raise the girls in secret — leaving Michael alone once more to fester about the disappearances of his new children and lover. Only later in time does Michael discover that Sire was Lucifer in disguise. }

{ So if all of you have gotten past all of that, it's time to tell you the exact relations of everyone within the Yumishi family in case you're confused. So here were go!

Lucifer and Kisuyo are the biological parents of Myth and Rain.

Michael and Kisuyo are the biological parents of Koui and Yuuela.

Michael and Sire (aka Lucifer's female form) are the biological parents of Nikusui and Inori.

Kisuyo is the biological daughter of The Sacred One, the absolute Goddess of the world of Mir Ender.

Kisuyo is the younger sister of Oizys, the Archfiend of Melancholy.

Kisuyo is the older sister of Adios and Sophrosyne, the Saints of Humility and Temperance.

Oizys, Adios, and Sophrosyne are all the biological aunts of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. They are the adoptive aunts of Nikusui and Inori due to the fact neither Lucifer/Sire or Michael are related to The Sacred One.

Myth and Rain are biological brothers (twins).

Koui and Yuuela are biological brother and sister.

Nikusui and Inori are biological sisters.

Myth is the biological half-brother of Koui and Yuuela.

Rain is the biological half-brother of Koui and Yuuela.

Koui is the biological half-brother of Myth and Rain.

Yuuela is the biological half-sister of Myth and Rain.

Nikusui is the biological half-sister of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

Inori is the biological half-sister of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

Warwick is the adoptive father of Nikusui and Inori.

Warwick is the adoptive uncle of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela.

The Sacred One is the grandmother of Myth, Rain, Koui, and Yuuela. She is the adoptive grandmother of Nikusui and Inori.

[invinciblerodent]

what do you mean i have a problem

..... i'll finish all of these (i have not finished even one of these)

[queen-scribbles]

Brand spankin' new Shae Vizla server babies!

Tressa (Knight, Shadow) || Sethris (Warrior, Juggernaut)

Ajayi (Consular, Shadow) || Krysa (Inquisitor, Assassin)

Azana (Trooper, Gunslinger) || Slate (Hunter, Sniper)

Indira (Agent, Scoundrel) || Kenda (Smuggler, Scoundrel)

[connieshands]

She's me. I'm her.

[thatonecrookedsmile]

Before the month started, I had made my own tierlist of projects and announcements that are/will be shown during the special FNAF anniversary week based on how excited I was/am for them. The highest ones are the ones I'm most interested in and the lowest ones are the ones I'm…not.

I did this at the end of July, and only now did I remember to post it here.

The week is going well, but it's this second half that will be more interesting.

OG Tierlist/Template.

[lae-zels]

i've got a headache trying to make it work but i ultimatelly managed because these idiots and their tadpoles are just too damn horny

[whateveriwant]

Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

[parfaitblogs]

risk ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you have the sweetest regular, and it’s probably too soon to tell him you love him!

pairing: spencer reid x barista!reader genre: fluff tags: s1 spencer. who rambles. biblically accurate career!reader sorry if some of the coffee talk makes no sense to you. reader makes all the first moves. y'all kiss (aww). written in timeskip sorta it's not crazy (like maybe a month). not proofread sorryyy (im not). word count: 2.2k a/n: first instalment of my spencer reid eras tour🙂‍↕️ season 1 spencer reid i freaking adore you. he's so cute. gif!! i thought gifs in this series could be cute lol. envisioned 1x10 spencer bc of his nightmares if that means anything. enjoyyy ily im off to work 🏃 

There are many reasons you come to work each morning. The money (an obvious one), your coworkers who usually make each day a little bit more bearable. And Spencer. A regular who had become a little notorious for having an odd coffee order, that most of the store workers hated making. 

Except for you. 

It wasn't especially odd. But in a store that thrived on making the perfect cup of coffee, sometimes it meant remaking it three or four times because the shots didn't pour at the right amount of time, and recalibrating the machine was a hassle you all didn't want to deal with in the middle of the morning rush he usually came during. 

You had taken note of him the first few times he came in — always keeping to himself, flashing the most awkward smile you think you've ever seen on a human being, and ordering his old order (a large latte with as much sugar as you could fit in the cup). It was by the seventh time that had you thinking of him a little more often than just while you were at work. 

He looked a lot more exhausted than usual. His usually tame hair now loose and hanging over his face as he took a weary step towards the counter, fingers brushing strands away and tucking them behind his ears. 

"The latte, right?" you had asked him, and he had frozen, and you stood in fear of this not being the Spencer you thought he was, and you had just asked a total stranger about a coffee they've never ordered. 

But then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Uh, no. Not today. Um—do you guys have a limit on how much coffee I can have?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "No... we don't. I wouldn't recommend any more than like five shots in our largest size, though. It'd probably taste gross. But we can add as much as you need."

"Five's good. Yeah," he nodded his head, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather strap of his messenger bag. 

"Just... a five shot latte?" you clarified, and he froze again, shaking his head once more. 

"Do you recommend anything else? I—uh, I want it to be sweet enough still."

"I can do you a mocha?" you offered. "White chocolate mocha if you're looking for it to be even sweeter."

"I'll try that," he nodded his head, and out came his awkward smile, which had you smiling back just as awkwardly. 

Which was how he got to his current usual. It honestly became a test to ensure your coffee machines were actually running well, considering pulling five well-done espresso shots at once was no easy feat. And, again, most of your coworkers hated making his drink. 

Which was why it was palmed off to you. Every single morning without fail. And maybe in another universe you would join them in the hatred for this man's frustrating drink order. But then, in that universe, you wouldn't get to talk to him every morning (and slowly break him out of whatever shell he had locked himself up in). 

"I never asked," you began, staring at him over the top of the coffee machine while putting white chocolate fudge into the bottom of the cup. "Why did you change your order randomly?"

He parted his lips and his eyebrows creased together for a few seconds, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell you. You were kind of grateful he concluded on trusting you. 

"I wasn't really sleeping. When I asked about changing my order," he explained, hands letting go of the bag strap so he could talk with them. "Then I guess I just liked the taste of it? And it kept me awake. Which is a bonus."

"I can imagine it would," you nodded your head in agreement, flashing him a small smile, which he returned, bashfully. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

He went silent, and you almost cursed yourself for asking. Maybe you had gone too far. It was why, when you had begun to busy yourself with making his drink a little faster, you jumped when he spoke up again.

"I was getting these nightmares," he said, and your head lifted from the milk you were steaming. "Because of what I do for work."

"Law, right?" you asked, and he let out a small laugh, tucking hair behind his ear. 

"Sort of. I'm with the FBI."

"Oh, that's right," you replied, nodding your head in recognition. He had said that to you at some point in the earlier days when he first started coming in, because you had asked where he works so close by to be coming in as often as he did. "Can you tell me what part? Or is that confidential?"

"No, no, I can. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," when your face twisted into confusion, he added, "We use psychology to analyse serial killers and catch them. Well, not just serial killers, actually. But that's what we focus on."

"And it works?" you asked, eyebrows rising as you placed a lid atop his coffee, sliding it out on the pick-up section where he was standing by. His face fell slightly, and so you were quick to add, "Not—I didn't mean it like that. I just mean I'm shocked. That psychology is all you really need to catch a serial killer."

"It's not all we need. There's a lot of other elements that go into finding one. But our primary focus is how their brain works and we use behavioural science to figure that out. Actually, we used to be called the Behavioural Science Unit when it was first created."

He was too busy talking animatedly with his hands for him to have picked up his coffee, and you were too busy watching him with a smile to remind him it was ready. 

When he did reach for it, you could feel the familiar pang of disappointment that had started shooting through you every time he was picking up his coffee and leaving. A weird sensation that left you clawing at the walls of your brain to come up with something to say to keep him there. 

It was probably why you blurted out, "Are you seeing anyone?" Which was followed by stunned silence from him, and regretful silence from yourself. What a question. 

Slowly, he began to shake his head, his lips twitching into a confused frown. "No. I'm—I'm not." 

It shocked you a little. He wasn't jaw dropping, per se. But he was attractive. You had said it a few times to your coworkers whenever they asked why you talked to him so much — there was a running joke that you were already secretly dating him behind their backs. Not funny.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to..." you hesitated. "Go out for dinner? Maybe? I'm so sorry if I'm totally overstepping. In fact, I encourage you to say no, because this is a little weird. I'm so sorry," you rambled when you were met with only silence from him, wondering if you had weirded him out of the ability to talk. 

"With me?" he pushed out, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, and you nodded your head, because maybe he wasn't weirded out. Maybe you had just flustered him. You hoped so, at least.

"Yeah," you said. "Is that weird? Or is it okay? To ask that?"

"It's okay. Yeah. Yes. I would love—like to. I mean, that would be nice. Yeah," he stammered, and you smiled. 

"Here," you held your hand out and gestured for his coffee, taking it back and picking up a Sharpie to write your number atop the lid, before you slid it back to him. "I get off work at one. Call me?"

"I will," he nodded, eyes fixated on the number for a few seconds more, before he returned his eyes to you. "I will. Um—bye!" he took a step back, and you let out a loud laugh when he stumbled into a chair behind him. 

He was sheepish as he waved to you, bidding you another goodbye, the sound of the bell above the door ringing once, and then again when it fell shut. 

And you had, somehow, secured a date with Spencer.

Which turned into two dates. Then three. And then, with some weird stroke of luck and twist of fate, you were spending every evening you could at his apartment, and him at yours. 

But you were yet to kiss. 

Not by any particular reason. Really, nothing either of you did ever really called for a kiss. Which was as frustrating as it was understandable. Frustrating, because you felt like you were simply friends, who sometimes went out for dinner, and had feelings for each other. But he had told you very early on he'd never been with anyone before, let alone ever been on a date. Hence; understandable. 

But frustration was more overwhelming than you had thought, because you were on his couch, blanket draped over both of your bodies, as he read you a book — The Chameleon. A short story by Anton Chekhov (an author whom you were only barely familiar with). And yet, all you could think about was kissing him. 

In your defence, he was very kissable, as you stared at his lips while he spoke, your heart stuttering quite uncomfortably in your chest. You weren't sure what it was precisely about him that made him like that. Maybe it was the natural pout of his lips, or how they twitched in humour at the little jokes Chekhov had written into the book that only made sense in Russian, despite him attempting to translate it for you. 

Whatever it was, it was overriding your senses, and in true Spencer fashion, he hadn't noticed you weren't intently listening to his reading until he glanced down to catch a reaction to something he said. You caught as he closed the book and placed it off to the side, jostling you from your haze. 

"You don't like the book, do you?" he asked, and you were quick to shake your head. 

"No, I do," which was true. The parts you were actively listening to you enjoyed. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

"By what?" he shifted on the couch to face you.

You fell silent at that, the answer hanging on the tip of your tongue, unsure whether or not saying it could ruin things. You didn't think it would. "You."

"I'm distracting?" he asked, eyebrows creasing together and a confused frown pulling his lips down. 

Which confused you. "Yes?"

"I don't think I'm meant to be sorry for that," he said. "But I am."

"You shouldn't be," you breathed out with a small laugh. 

"Right," he nodded his head, laughing too, awkwardly. "How am I distracting?"

You studied his face for a few moments, which ended up being a pathetic excuse for a lip study, because you were fixated on them again, and you decided Spencer probably didn't even realise that that was what you were doing. 

"We haven't kissed yet," you told him, instead. 

"No. We haven't," he agreed. 

"Do you just not want to kiss me?" you asked.

He did that thing he does when he's thinking — furrowed eyebrows and parted lips, eyes blinking a few times, before he comes up with his response. 

"I just don't want you to be disappointed. I've never kissed anyone before."

"I concluded that," you answered. "I won't be disappointed."

"You might be," he mumbled, and his gaze averted from your own, which had another smile stretching across your lips. 

"Only one way to find out, right?"

He hesitated before nodding his head, lifting his eyes back up to look at you. It was then that you learned that, like everything else, you might have to make the first move on him. Again.

The thought made you laugh, and though he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to question why you were laughing, because your hands were on his face and you were pulling him into you, lips meeting his in a gentle kiss that elicited a surprised squeak from him. 

"You've gotta kiss me back," you murmured against his lips, and his response was a quiet 'oh'. 

But he was a fast learner, because soon after he was. Objectively, it wasn't the best kiss you've ever had in your life. But it got better by the second, and he was doing enough to make your heart stutter in your chest, his hands reaching up to cup your own face, palms and fingers covering the mass of your cheeks. 

His hands there provided him the ability to keep you there, and you had to pry them off your face so you were able to pull back for air, breaths coming out in short pants. Only for a short second, because he was chasing your lips again, and you laughed, before letting him kiss you again. And again. And again. 

Until both of you were out of air, and he was glassy-eyed and pink-lipped. Though, you were probably his mirror image of that.

And he smiled at you, crookedly. And you wondered if it was too soon to say you loved him. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

Valentine

You had spent the last few hours making your special Valentine's Day cookies.

After years of attempts at them, you had finally perfected the recipe.

You were so excited to finally give them out to your friends!

Each cookie was decorated as a heart in their favorite color.

Red for Miles, purple for Gwen, pink for Peni, etc.

You were practically jumping for joy as soon as they were done.

You started to pack each one in their respective packaging, along with a little sticker of their name on the plastic.

As soon as you started putting them into your container to give them out, you felt your phone buzzing and ringing.

You put the cookies down and checked the contact.

It was Pavitr!

You picked up the call

"Hey Pavi! What up?" You asked while finishing up putting the cookies into the container

"Y/N! WE HAVE TO GO HELP MILES AND GWENS DATE GO WELL!"

Oh yeah. You forgot you and Pav accidentally both got Miles and Gwen to ask each other out for Valentine's.

Miles had called Pavitr for advice on how to ask "a girl out".

He was trying to hide how it was Gwen, despite everyone and their moms knowing how bad of a crush he had on her.

Pavitr ended up telling him to draw Gwen a portrait of a picture of the two sitting next to each other you had taken secretly and get her some flowers.

☆You were helping Gwen, who was also trying to ask Miles out.

She called you, very jittery, and told you she wanted to "get it over with" and just ask him out.

You helped her make a poem for him and compose him a song. You also helped her make a bouquet of paper flowers made from little pictures of them together.

You and Pavitr bonded over how you both were practically playing Cupid for Gwen and Miles.

"Alright, gimmie a sec though, where are we going to meet?" You asked, putting the container down and rushing to your room

"Meet me at Miles' universe, we have to watch over them and make sure nothing ruins today! I've been waiting for this for so long!"

You could hear his excitement over the phone, it was clear he was practically jumping up and down.

"Okay, I'll be there, bye Pavii!!" you hung up the phone and started getting ready.

You didn't know your family was home.

You didn't know how they'd been eying them all day assuming they were being made by Alfred.

You didn't know they couldn't wait to eat them.

All your brothers (?) decided to eat your cookies without bothering to ask anyone if it was theirs.

Sure, they forgot about you, but if you saw individually wrapped cookies tied up with a bow wouldn't you ask about it?

After they ate it, they even left the wrappers! They didn't even clean up their mess!

And sure, you didn't have to clean it up, alfred noticed the names on the wrappers and recognized one of them as one of your friends that you would talk about.

He called down the boys and asked why they ate the cookies. They didn't even deny eating them.

Their stomachs sank when they found out you had made those cookies for your friends.

They spent hours trying to remake the cookies from scratch. They didn't know when you'd be home.

They ended up finishing with them being messy and kind of gross tasting, nothing like how you made them!

Maybe you wouldn't notice?

The date was going well! You and Pavitr ended up fighting Green Goblin while trying to keep Miles and Gwen's date safe, clearing the streets of people trying to mug them, and setting everything up perfectly, but by the end of it, everything was perfect!

You managed to take a cute photo of Gwen and Miles kissing in the sunset, too!

You were sure nothing could ruin today!

You just had to run home and get the cookies so you could give them out, and then you could go to bed! You were exhausted!

You told Pavitr to walk into the kitchen with you so he could see how cute they were!

Your brothers saw through the camera as you and your friend walked into the kitchen and you handed him a cookie.

You saw as pavitrs face shift as he took a bite of it. Like he was trying to figure something out.

"What's wrong, Pavi?" You asked while taking the rest of the cookie and holding it in your hand.

"It tastes...Off. Like usually your cookies taste.... differently? I can't put my finger on it, though." You listened to him and then took a bite of the cookie as well.

You immediately spit it out.

It was so gross, nothing like how you made them!

"What the hell? I could've sworn these tasted better when I left them!" You started going through your mental checklist on how you could've messed it up.

It wasn't until you looked at the cameras around the kitchen on your phone that you found out your brothers ate them, rebaked them horribly, and tried to play it off.

You profusely apologized to Pavitr, he didn't deserve to eat that hot mess!

"It's okay!" he rubbed your back as you had your hands in your hair.

"it's not okay it's not, you know on Roblox-!" he hit you playfully on the back of the head for making a dumb reference.

It took him promising no one would be mad at you for something that wasn't your fault. He also told you he would bake them again with you.

You believed him.

You always did.

THIS WAS SO BAD AND SHORT IM SORRY

i needed to get this out

pavitr and reader bonding time woo

sorry this was so bad oml

taglist(please lmk if i forgot you!):@bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n @welpthisisboring @itsberrydreemurstuff @lovebug-apple @crazycaoticsimp @bellethesleepypotato @blackhood1229 @jsprien213 @sirenetheblogger @awawage @holybatflapexpert

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Conversation_poses_41

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Aaaand hello again!!

As I have been away for so long i didn't wanted to bring just a remake posepack today, so here you have a brand new conversation posepack!!!

I made these poses a while ago for a post on instagram but they were just 8 poses (I skipped the playing part on that post hehe)... but as a posepack for you, I decided to make all the gaming part. It ended up being a pretty long pack, but I'm pretty happy with the results.

BTW I apologize in advance because my posting times will be a bit random at the moment, since power outages are not scheduled, I don't know when I won't have electricity and when I will... So I'll post when I can, even if it's a weird-late time, like this time...

I hope you enjoy them!!!

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What is on it?

16 couple poses + 2 all in one + 1 bonus solo pose (Same as 1M but as solo pose).

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What do you need?

Andrew's poses player 

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo.

"The hipster hugger" sofa from Basegame.

"BlandCo Contemporary End Table" from Basegame.

UNO CARDS objects by MOC.

UNO CARDS accessories by MOC (Same link)

acc_iphone11_R_necklace(byMoc) by MOC.

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Instructions in the original post.

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TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

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Download it now here — [Early Access until April 18th, 2025]

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If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

All my poses overview: Pinterest |  Wix | Tumblr

More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram

My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr

Lives and videos: Youtube

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I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.

@ts4-poses

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