#the picture quality.. WHY IS IT ALWAYS SO TERRIBLE...

[backpack-blueglasses]

..cowbug.....

silly bug i made out of clay a while ago !! the cowboy outfit is removable but i think he looks even sillier with it on (im going to see a production of tto soon and i wanted to bring bug so i made him a cosplay /j)

[celestialtarot11]

Astrology Observations 🧎‍♂️‼️

Hi friends! Today we’re just doing a general post for the astrological signs 🤭✨ Please enjoy and share! Your feedback is always appreciated.

Earth sign energy is heavy and dark, not negative, but they are very connected to their roots, ancestors and past lives. They carry lots of baggage from the past to heal in this lifetime, and thus may feel they lived through many timelines and cycles. They can feel similarly to Scorpio that experienced tons of transformations.

Libra moons can be indecisive in relationships, not because they have a bad sign placement but because they care a lot about people’s feelings. Sometimes too much to their detriment. They’d rather keep the peace than to rock the boat, but that’s what causes tension. Libra moons just need more confidence and security in their choices, and focus on themselves 🧘

Cancer Venus from a young age experienced misunderstandings from the people around them. Cancer venus wants a close community and people who understand their emotions, but in an emotionally unavailable society they can feel neglected and lonely. Its why cancer venus develops walls to protect their heart. They still care, but it takes them a long time to open up.

Virgos remember little details of everyone and hope they can do the same for them. They essentially give what they need and Virgos need attention and someone who creates quality time.

Gemini venus crave communication and mental stimulation in their connections. They love to learn and interact with people. Gemini Venus can also experience lots of isolation or periods of alone time because they aren’t finding the right people to connect to. They’d rather be alone than to have surface level interaction and filler conversations.

Leo + Aquarius pairing in a chart can indicate the native is truly unique and unforgettable. They strive so much to be themselves that it inspires others to do so. Some may even idolize the native, and others can get jealous because the native has qualities they wish they had. The native basically inspires others to get a personality 💅🏻

Mercury 8h can be so funny. We can get picky about what personal info to leave in the outside world. Even the idea of leaving behind our birthday info can irk us 😭 why? I think being in the spotlight or being perceived can be difficult for us.

Adding onto that, mercury 8h can channel spirits, occult knowledge, spirit guides, etc. when they tap in, they TAP in. They did not come to play 😍 All they need is a good meditation sesh and they’re good to go 🧘 all powered up.

Jupiter 8h can go through so many endings and terrible situations and still somehow come out stronger and better. They take their healing and growth seriously, and I think Jupiter 8h people have big hearts, so they always reconnect with that energy which is what carries them 😤

Cancer + Leo in a chart makes someone mystical, ethereal, private, yet somehow well known. There will always be an aspect to these natives to hide to protect themselves, and yet their Leo side will try to guide them out their comfort zone.

Aries rising females always knew who they were since birth 🤭 they could’ve photographed a lot, dressed up a lot, and it’s iconic. Since birth they knew! Aries rising females can be human rights activists too, because they have strong opinions, perspectives and believe in empowerment. Aries rising females may also be into modeling, because since a young age they were surrounded by cameras and people who thought they were beautiful ❤️

Aquarius rising children always look upset in their pictures or they have that thousand mild yard stare 😭 help #me

Sagittarius rising children always had that mischievous look on their face in every picture, or they looked incredibly angry. They had no issue letting their true selves out 😤

Pisces women tend to move far from their home town or childhood home. Lots of them have dreams of living far away from their roots. I think its to discover who they are and rebuild themselves after going through a lot. They physically need to disconnect from toxic environments to heal.

Gemini sun women are like teachers in many ways. Especially when they’ve healed a lot. They can be a teacher to the siblings around them or people. Many turn out to be motivational speakers because they have so much wisdom to share.

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💗☮️ feel free to like comment and reblog to support the blog 🧘✨ Have a great one!

Paid Readings ✨

[carto0ncritter]

Abusive fictional fathers - Robotnik vs. Stolas

I won't be talking about Coconuts here since he's not on screen that much, but know that I feel sorry for the stuff he's been through, poor guy

Robotnik ⮕ Scratch & Grounder

Like... he literally only created these two to use and abuse them and that's crystal clear

When I say Robotnik is an abusive pos, this is what I mean (and this is just some of the physical abuse, don't even get me started on the emotional):

...Okay, that last picture was the last straw. Robotnik's thrist for power has officially outweighted Scratch and Grounder's "value." He felt 0 remorse for throwing them into the lava. Keep in mind, he THOUGHT HE HAD KILLED THEM and DIDN'T CARE AT ALL. Thankfully they were fine. And no the fact that they're robots doesn't make it any less wrong

If you're willing to sacrifice your children for a powerful artefact, then I'm (NOT) sorry to say this, but you're a heartless pos and deserve to be held accountable for your actions. If I were in Scratch and Grounder's shoes, I would have ran the hell away right then and there and found home elsewhere

However, unlike with Stolas and Octavia, at least the narrative doesn't try to convince us that Robotnik loves his sons. Because if he did, he would have tried to change his behavior. Or better, he wouldn't have abused them IN THE FIRST PLACE! AT ALL! No matter what he had gone through! I'm not denying that his mom was a pos to him just like he's a pos to scratch and grounder, but i refuse to see this as an excuse. he should have tried his best to break the cycle of abuse

*sigh* Now I've gotta talk about that stupid bird man... let's just get this over with.

Stolas ⮕ Octavia

Stolas is shown to have been there for Via in her childhood. although we never see them bond over anything, connect emotionally with each other or spend quality time together, we've only got this one nightmare scene. this was the only time stolas was shown to care about octavia

He did his best to calm her down and make her feel safe, then proceeded to break his promise for a booty call. For a childhood "friend" that his father bought for him 25 years ago.

And you're telling me how Stolas didn't realize that bringing Blitzø along in Loo Loo Land is uh... a bad idea that will make his daughter feel even worse?

I HATE the excuse that Stolas was "just clueless." Because anyone with the tiniest bit of common sense would come to the same conclusion: flirting with your booty call in front of your daughter who is a minor and going through emotional hell that happened because you cheated on her mother makes you a horrible and selfish father.

Even worse is that Stolas doesn't learn his lesson and once again neglects Octavia. Stolas is too busy hating his ex wife and gushing over his abuse victim that he can't even be bothered to look for his daughter himself, and instead Loona has to be the one to go find her. And then she literally tells Via how her dad's trying his best and how she should cut him some slack. No. No she shouldn't. Octavia was right to think that Stolas hates Stella more than he loves her because that's what his actions show.

He can hug her all he wants and promise to do better but he has done nothing to even TRY to be better for this poor girl.

Not to mention that Loona is a hypocrite. Blitzø has always been doing his best to be a good dad to her, and she thanks him for saving her life by being a complete bitch. It's been five. Fucking. Years. Of unconditional love and support from Blitzø's side. And what does he get in return? A kick in the balls. Blitzø also got beat up by her and hit with the "if I'm so terrible why don't you replace me" after he rightfully called her out and you're trying to tell me Blitzø was the one in the wrong and how this isn't abusive huh ok then whatever ya say

I won't talk about the upcoming episode much. I honestly just don't have the strength anymore. But to make it as short as possible, Stolas is gonna be treated like an uwu poor sad gay boi and once again choose Blitzø, the guy he r*ped, over his own child.

If you check out the leaked story boards for s2 ep12, you'll see how disgusting it is that Via is spitting nothing but facts and yet she'll be demonized by the writers, Stolas lovers and Stolitz shippers. Just...

Please stop lying, dude. Just stop. You shattered her entire life and neglected her for a guy you abused and never got to know on a level that's deeper than sex. No wonder Via thinks he doesn’t love her anymore. The line above gives me the same vibe as THIS line also they made Stolas not only ACT like a guy who victimizes himself but LOOK that way too

STOP LYING. JUST SHUT UP.

I hate this self-pitying hypocrite sm.

And yeah, I get it: he was put in an arranged marriage (this was clearly a retcon, but whatever floats viv's boat) despite being gay and was sheltered and never had friends, but those are explanations for his behavior, not excuses.

Oh and, to anyone who thinks otherwise: Emotional neglect is a form of abuse.

Closing Thoughts

One important thing that I noticed with both Scratch and Grounder and Octavia, is how none of them feel at home with their fathers. A reliable way to know whether you've failed as a parent or not is to see how your behavior affects your kid(s). How does your behavior make them feel?

Let's see here... *checks notes*

Octavia says how Stolas ruined their family, not Stella and in ep12 she's finally gonna call him out on his bullshit thank god. but unfortunately the toxic gay ship will once again be a priority because it's gay

Scratch and Grounder are terrified of Robotnik's wrath, he constantly makes them feel useless and unwanted, but at the same time, they have no problem betraying him both of them always come back to him, just like how Blitzø doesn't leave his abuser because he wants to feel "loved" and "needed" for once even though Stolas treats him like shit

So yeah, if you made your kid(s) feel this way, you've officially failed as a father.

[minkkumaz]

taesan soft thoughts?? indeed!

taesan loves music and taking videos, so why not spend a day in the big city with him! roaming snack shops, album stores, go window shopping, hang out at skate parks, or do anything at all while taesan records every second of it on his camera bc he thinks ur the cutest person ever

CATCH MY HEARTS ON CAMERA

there was once a saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. taesan wants to capture everything about you in the case that words are a little hard to form. that's how in love with you he is.

PAIRING han taesan x fem!reader WC 3.2k TAGS fluff. taesan is literally in love goodnight. cussing. OMI NOTE i know this isn't exactly a drabble.. but as soon as i read that i thought of this and literally could not resist. i got a little carried away ngl LMAO but anything for you pearl.

there was once a saying that a picture is worth a thousand words. for this exact reason, taesan invested in a photo camera. it was second hand, but the quality wasn’t terrible. something about lower quality pictures felt more real to him, because not everything could be perfect.

what he wanted to do with the camera was all apart of his master plan, however. the amount of love he had in his heart for you extended great height. because of this, part of him needed something sincere to confess to you. and what was more lovely than a video diary

so hence started the project where he took you on a friend date once a week for four weeks. the word ‘friend’ was something he hated, as it made him feel crazy. there was a possibility you didn’t reciprocate, which is why he had to try everything.

when he brought up the idea (excluding the fact that he considered it a date), you were immediately on board. you always enjoyed being around taesan, so you paid no mind as to why. “i think that’s a really sweet idea taesan, we haven’t been able to properly hang out since i came back to korea. you’re just so popular” you told him happily.

“yeah it would be nice to spend some time together. i could maybe pick you up tomorrow?” his voice hints nervousness, but you don’t catch it.

“great! do you already have a plan for tomorrow?” “i can’t tell you, otherwise that ruins the surprise.” he smiles at you fondly.

with that, taesan stepped right onto planning. there were a multitude of places he was thinking about taking you. but at the end of the day, as long as you were together he would be okay.

friend date one: street food markets and a happy girl.

sometimes, food is the way to someones heart. and a little someone might’ve been dying to go to a food market during night - time to try all the best snacks in town. as soon as you brought it up some time ago, he could already envision the brightest grin pulled together on your lips.

hundreds of luminous lanterns shone throughout the alleyway. there were many banners sprawled out everywhere, advertising the different kinds of foods and merchandise you could purchase. not only that, the smell of meat and vegetables wafting through the air was heavenly.

as soon as you arrived at the location, taesan lead you carefully, making sure to cover your eyes. though you were sure when you heard the sizzling of food on a grill you knew exactly where you were. the touch of his skin on your eyes got hotter and hotter.

once he uncovers your face, your vision takes a second to adjust before you see the pretty vendors lining down the street. your jaw drops and you turn your heels to look at the boy behind you.

“oh my gosh taesannie no you didn’t!” you squeal like a little girl, jumping up and down, “i’ve wanted to come here for such a long time, but nobody ever wants to come with me!”

“i know haha that’s why i wanted to bring you–” you cut him off with a tight hug, his heart beat quickening.

“thank you thank you! i swear i’ve been craving street food forever since i moved back here.” 

when you pulled away, he almost had to chase after you as you ran down to see all the action. all of your senses being immediately heightened, stars behind your eyes. taesan knew this was a perfect moment, so he took his camera to record your rush.

“look they have gamja hot dogs!”

you ran up to one of the stands to order as taesan followed behind you. while you waited patiently for it to be prepared, you rocked on your feet eagerly. through the lens you looked cute, but it was incomparable to seeing it in person. 

“here, pay with this.” he grabbed money from his pocket with his free hand, giving it to you.

“are you sure taesannie– i just got promoted i can pay.” you try to hand it to him but he pushes it back to you.

“it’s not that expensive, don’t worry about it.” he insists.

“ahh okay fine. but next time we hang out i’ll pay!” you tilt your head and smile, shifting your attention to the crisp batter surrounding a mozzarella hot dog.

taking a bite, you immediately melt, chewing quickly so you could tell taesan how good it is.

“you have to try this it’s so good!” you put the treat up to his lips and he takes a bite, blushing at the thought of an indirect kiss. but you were right, it was really yummy.

“auhh, this is very good! you can get another if you’d like.” 

“then how will i have room for other stuff silly? let’s go look at all the other things!” you grab his hand to lead him around.

he places his camera back in his pocket, happy with the footage he got of your excited demeanor. the night would be long and your bellies would be full, and it was all worth it.

friend date two: let’s go skate!

the sound of wheels against pavement filled your ears, as you and taesan sprawled out on a grass patch nearby. there was a classic checkered blanket underneath the two of you with a basket of fruits and crackers.

“have you ever tried skating, y/n?” taesan asked as he handed you a napkin with a couple grapes in it.

“it’s too scary, i’d rather have my feet safely on the floor.” you tell him while snacking on the green fruit.

“i think it would be fun to try, i can help you. i brought my skateboard for a reason.”

“hold up– that’s basically me asking to die! you look a lot cooler when you’re doing it.” 

it sounded a little silly, but you were scared of skateboarding. professionals always made it look so cool, but it made you nervous. though after seeing taesan do a shoot at a skatepark, you thought it would be a nice recommendation to hang out there one day. but him actually remembering wasn’t something you expected. let alone have you try skateboarding.

taesan reddened with embarrassment at your compliment, shrugging it off, “just let me push you once, yeah? i can get some photos of you for your instagram.”

“that is a tad bit more convincing… you’ll hold me still, yeah?” you sit up from your spot, wiping any grass that might’ve gotten on your outfit.

“for sure, let’s go?” he holds a hand out to lead you down the little hill and towards the many skaters. 

you walked along with him, nearing closer and feeling more edgy. why exactly were you doing this? there was a possibility you just liked him that much, but you would never tell him that.

“taesannie i swear i have never touched a skateboard in my life, what if i eat shit and totally embarass myself?” you held the board he gave you in your shaky hands, fingers scratching against the dark grip tape.

“you won’t fall, y/n, i said i would be holding on to you.”

the idea of holding you as you stumble around on a skateboard was cute in his mind. he would help you get over your small fear, and take a few shots of you rolling around (with your arms swinging around like a weirdo, but his weirdo).

“okay okay.. but if you let me fall, zico will be hearing from me.” you sigh in defeat, placing the board down on the smooth pavement. 

“i promise, just step on the board and ill push you.” he gripped your arm in his hand while you stepped on the board.

“wait wait wait– don’t push me yet i’m scared.”

“don’t be scared okay? i’m right here i won’t let you get hurt.” taesan couldn’t help grinning at your clumsiness.

once you gave him the nod of approval, he let go of you and pushed. at first, you waved your arms arround to try to stablize yourself, but you got the hang of it.

“i’m doing it!” you exclaim while rolling off into the distance.

taesan zooms in on you rolling away while you shoot a thumbs up towards the camera. seeing you flailing around was sweet, but seeing you happy at your success was a lot more delightful.

friend date three: superache was lovely, but you’re lovelier.

just down the street, a very aesthetically pleasing album store opened up. if taesan wasn’t so caught up with work, he would’ve gone to the grand opening with riwoo. despite this he was quite relieved to learn you also were planning on going soon, so this was perfect.

both of you dressed comfy in matching hoodies (per your request) and walked a short distance to arrive there.

“i hope they have the conan gray cd i want. sunset season has been at the top of my shopping list, but the other stores near us are always sold out.” the bell rang at the top of the door when you guys walked in, signaling a greeting from the employees working.

“i enjoyed superache, i might get the vinyl for it actually.” taesan thought out loud.

“superache was really good too, what was your favorite song off of it?” you question, holding an imaginary mic up to his face.

“uhh probably memories? i listened to it a lot during weverse con.”

“oh i remember when you posted it! that makes sense i forgot.” you said, going towards the cd’s.

“you have my notifications on for weverse?” he asked sheepishly.

“why wouldn’t i? it’s like i get two times the texts from you.” you smile at him.

“that’s cute.” he spoke quietly that you could barely hear him.

the two of you scrolled mindlessly throughout the shop, flipping through the letter tabs to find the artist you liked. taesan made sure to mentally note which artists you looked at for longer, or which genre you browsed in for the longest. 

inside the shop, there were fake vines running across the walls and tons of posters littered about. it was awfully cozy, and though the dimmed lights made it harder for his camera to focus, you would look good even if you were blurry.

“taesannie! look i found the sunset season cd!” you bounced delightedly, holding up the jewel case in front of him. 

he captured the joyful expression on your face, your lips pulling into a teethy smile that made him feel warm. when you noticed the camera you made multiple poses holding the cd. watching your every movement as you switched between peace signs and half hearts.

the last date was nearing closer, it made his heart ache anxiously.

friend date four: this is our chapter, right?

after your friend date today, he would go home to make a compilation of all the memories you made in these few weeks. this was probably the most extroverted thing an introvert could do, but in a way, it made the most sense to him. 

he would show it to you the next day, hoping to be able to call you his girlfriend very soon. for now, it was best to swallow down the stress and make today worth it.

earlier in the morning, he texted you to meet up at a library just to hang out. there was a cute cafe there in case you felt hungry, and your favorite selection of books piled atop numerous shelves. 

taesan arrived earlier than you in order to pick out the best spot to sit together, out of view from too many passerbys. while it sounded oddly suspicious he just wanted time alone with you, he always did. and you trusted him.

“taee sannn?” you whisper yelled, walking at a fast pace with your head bopping around. he raised his hand up and you saw him sitting against a bookshelf.

“hey you found me.” he perked up quietly as you sat down next to him on the floor.

“yeah i basically had to parade around the whole library to find you, stupid. big tall mountain yet i was unable to point you out from all these people; who may i add, are not six fucking foot.” you tease, scooting in to him until your shoulders barely touched.

“well you found me now, that’s what matters, right?” 

“i guess so. what are you reading?” taking the corner of his book in between your fingers, you slightly pull it in your direction.

“i’m not sure, i kinda just picked something up while i was waiting. it’s pretty good so far though.” he moves his head up, feeling the closeness of your guys’ faces. you were still looking, analyzing the pages.

“it smells old.”

“what?” he laughed, “you don’t like the smell of books?”

“it’s not that, it just reminds me that i haven’t been in a library in such a long time. reading makes me tired.” you yawn.

“don’t fall asleep on me now, here, i’ll go a few pages back and we can read together okay? just tap my arm when you want me to turn the page.” he told you while you just hummed in reply.

together, you read in silence for awhile. the pads of your fingers gently pressing into taesan’s arm whenever you were ready to move onto the next page. over time, your taps got lighter and lighter, until you didn’t tap at all.

your head fell into his shoulder, making him flinch slightly at the sudden contact. when he glanced back over to you, your eyes were shut.

taesan freezes, unsure of what to do. does he wake you? he doesn’t dare to move a single muscle, ultimately deciding to let you rest. his mind and heart is racing because while you were always close with him, it was different when he had a crush on you.

he took his arm to wrap around your body, pulling you closer towards him. you nuzzled into him comfortably, unbeknownst to you exactly what you were doing. he pulled his camera to snap a very charming photo of you all sleepy. something about you looked very silly, so he was excited to show you and tease you about it.

right. he had a whole compilation of things he wanted to show you.

“you have no idea how much i like you, y/n.” he murmurs softly.

friend dates are out, confessions are in: i think really really love you.

taesan stayed up all night clipping together photos and videos of you. every scene of you, every detail, he studied over and over just reminiscing of all the moments you got to spend together. he was so fucking scared you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

normally he was calm, putting up this kind of chill persona. but genuinely he was terrified. any of the other members that he talked to about the whole situation told him that you definitely returned his feelings, but he could never be too sure. leehan was on top of telling him that he’d be fine.

but there he was, anxiously waiting for you to knock on his door. his laptop lay in front of him on the coffee table, tabbed out of the video so you don’t see it right away. time couldn’t pass any slower.

however he swore his heart rate picked up even more when you did knock. he quickly pulled out his phone to make sure he was looking okay. his outfit was nothing fancy, just some sweatpants and a shirt, but he still wanted to be presentable for you. the best way to get you over to his house was a movie night, so comfy attire was a must.

“hi taesan!” you greeted him as he opened the door to let you in. 

“hey, are you ready for a movie night?” he fidgeted with the jawstrings on his sweats, going to sit over on the couch with you behind him.

“yes i’m excited! i get big blanket though you stole it last time.”

“yeah of course, but um– i wanted to show you something first.” he stuttered out.

“sure, what’s up?” you were worried from taesan’s sudden demeanor change. he took his laptop from the table and switched to a tab, placing it in your lap.

“hit play.”

once you did so, you were met with a melodic sound in the background. it was a tune you were familiar with, but you never knew where it was from. taesan would hum it all the time, and you realized once the first verse started that it was his voice.

‘hi, y/n. these were my favorite moments with you for the past week.’ read the captions below.

photos and videos of your past few weeks together played on the screen in order. you waiting excitedly for your gamja hot dog, you rolling away on taesans skateboard.

‘you might be wondering why i put all of this together, and sometime throughout this i wondered if it was stupid.’

 the multiple photos of you posing with your favorite conan gray cd, and lastly a photo of you sleeping soundly against taesan’s shoulder.

‘but i think it was perfect for me to capture every single moment that made me fall in love with you.’

the expression on your face was blank, you blinked back, still a bit confused. more photos played throughout the video, selfies of you and taesan over the past couple years.

‘i really really love you, y/n.’

as the video came to an end and the screen went black, you looked over at taesan with tears welling in your eyes. you moved the laptop next to you and leaned over to embrace him in a hug.

“taesannie… why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you sniffed while he returned your hug.

“i just didn’t know how. you deserve nothing less than perfection y/n…” he paused, “and i mean it. i really am in love with you, i always have been.”

“i love you too, taesan.”

in that moment, every single worry and doubt he’s ever had washed away as you placed your lips on his. it was like a reward for the constant longing he had for you. part of it still felt like a dream, but you’ve always been absolutely unreal in his eyes.

“is that what all of those dates were for? to hypnotize me into falling in love with you?” you giggled pulling away.

“i mean it wasn’t my intention, but if it happened, it happened.” 

“shut up, this was totally something leehan would do! he helped you didn’t he?” you furrow your eyebrows while poking his cheek in an attempt to get answers out of him.

“you don’t give me enough credit, this was my idea i promise. he’s just the one that kept me sane during all of it.”

“even if you were insane i wouldn’t mind visiting my lovely boyfriend in the mental hospital.” you place another slow kiss on his lips.

“that sounds nice, girlfriend.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz !

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XV)

Chapter 15: ‘He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets in water?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! New Year’s Eve is upon us… let’s see what happens!! ;)

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3646

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Edge

Time and again, time and again I tie My heart to that headboard While my quilted cries Harden against his hand. He’s bored- I see it. Don’t I lick his bribes, set his bouquets In water? Over Mother’s lace I watch his drive into the gored Roasts, deal slivers in his mercy… I can feel his thighs Against me for the children’s sakes. Reward? Mornings, crippled with this house, I see him toast his toast and test His coffee, hedgingly. The waste’s my breakfast.

Louise Glück, The First Five Books of Poems

The plan was simple.

Or rather… it wasn’t simple, per say, but it was feasible. Which, considering that you were attempting to make your ex fall in love with you again after he dumped you to get engaged to another woman… was already quite an achievement.

You looked at Andrew as he stood next to you. He had arrived late, had apologised profusely. You were annoyed, but you reckoned that you would have to grow used to this detail about him. He simply was always late to everything, it seemed.

He was wearing contacts today, instead of his glasses. You had noticed that he did whenever he would see Sam, probably because she preferred him without his dark brown spectacles. And he did look handsome tonight, dressed in all black, from suit to shirt and leathered shoes, with his hair tied in a bun, but still… you missed the softness that came with seeing him in glasses. You didn’t know why you felt like that. Perhaps it was because you were so used by now to see him almost every day wearing them, may it be at work or when you planned actions related to your exes, or when you simply spent time together. Maybe it was the familiarity that had grown with this sight that you missed now. Perhaps you just found him even more handsome with glasses…

You pushed the thought away, looked for Frank through the crowd. Frank and Sam were hosting, in the flat they had moved into about a month before. And it ached to see pictures of the two of them sprayed on the fridge in the kitchen. Your collection of books was gone, leaving shelves empty in the living room but for pieces of decoration and more pictures of the happy couple that tore your heart apart. There was music playing, some playlist found on Spotify, without a doubt, music you would find in a club, a music meant to party. You saw Andrew staring at the empty shelves as well, at the absence of records too; you saw his small frown as he spotted the laptop that was the source of the music. You guessed he thought the quality was terrible, but then again, you guessed he didn’t like the music in itself very much either. You imagined Frank sitting in a room to listen to old jazz records, the way you knew Andrew did sometimes, he had told you so much himself. You couldn’t picture it…

But then you looked at the pictures more carefully, and couldn’t imagine yourself in them either. They seemed to have been everywhere together. Rafting, climbing, swimming, jumping, sky-diving even… there was no museum, no cityscape, no quiet woods, no sunset over a beach. There was adventure, and thrill, more so than you could ever handle.

Was that what Frank wanted? What you couldn’t offer? Did you need to become adventurous to keep him?

Would you ever be happy if you became an explorer instead of an academic?

Were you not an explorer already anyway? You had travelled to other cities, to other countries, had moved to places where you knew no one to settle and work. You learned every day, you grew, you tried to keep your head above the water. And you went on walks in nature, you swam into the sea, you made friends and lost some along the way. Was it not enough? Did it not take enough courage already to simply live your life?

“Are you ready?”

You turned to Andrew, your partner in crime for the night. You had to move the bottles of champagne around so Andrew could find them and save the day. And then he would shine by remembering Sam didn’t like champagne…

You nodded, moving towards the kitchen.

“How do we get everybody out?”

“I can handle that,” you assured him with a mischievous wink and smile.

Indeed, there were only men in the kitchen at that moment, gathering ammunition in the form of drinks and shots for the night.

Easy peasy…

“I mean… I do believe the dress is a little much,” you told Andrew loudly enough for all four men present in the kitchen to discreetly eavesdrop on the conversation.

Andrew blinked, but played along the best he could, although you noticed the way he was shying away as a couple of men turned to the two of you without trying to be discreet. He blushed, bent his shoulders to seem smaller than he truly was.

“Really?”

“I mean… Andy… you can see her full tits at this point…”

You saw the four men exchanging glances, and hurrying outside the kitchen.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“Was that really that easy?” he asked out loud.

“Men…” was your only response, along with a roll of your eyes.

Andrew chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Are we truly that shallow?”

“Most of the time!”

You hurried to close the door, and you and Andrew hid the bottles in a cupboard, getting them out of the fridge. You were so scared of being caught that you were going too fast, almost dropping a bottle, but catching it right before it would hit the ground.

“Calm down, we’re good,” Andrew spoke in a whisper, although he kept on glancing towards the door.

“There’s no lock on that door! Anyone can come in at any moment!”

“We won’t get caught.”

“And if we are?”

“Then we’ll say it was a joke.”

“It will be so bad…”

“We won’t get caught.”

But then there were footsteps in the hallway. Two bottles left in the fridge. Andrew and you exchanged a terrified glance.

“Shit!” you both cursed at the same time, grabbing the bottles in a hurry, pushing them in the cupboard and slamming the door.

The handle moved…

Your reflex was to get closer to Andrew, to grab his hand and hold tight. He didn’t push you away, merely gasped, although you weren’t sure whether it was because of the door now beginning to open or because you were now so close to him you were basically pressed to his chest…

“Why the fuck is this door clos…”

Some people you didn’t know opened the door then, stared at you and Andrew first in surprise, and then they refrained a laugh…

You looked up at Andrew, who was staring with wide eyes at the door. You seemed only then to notice your proximity, the way you literally held onto him.

You gasped, took a couple of steps back, until your back bumped into the fridge. A hand appeared out of nowhere to slip between your head and the piece of furniture.

“You’re alright?” Andrew asked in a weak voice, clearly embarrassed by the whole thing and still high on adrenaline from your stupid plan. You nodded, moved away from him, from his palm that still cradled the back of your head…

“Fine, fine… we should…”

You hurried out of the room, away from Andrew and the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch against your hair and…

You were interrupted in your busy thoughts by Frank’s voice coming from behind you.

“Y/N! Andrew! I’m so glad you could both come!”

You spun around, noticing only then that you were back in the living room, Andrew following suit.

“Thanks for inviting us! Great party!” you complimented.

It was hard at first to regulate your breathing, to hide that your heart was beating at a thousand miles a minute. After all, you had almost been caught, and then… these people would think that you and Andrew had locked yourselves in the kitchen to… Oh, God… if Sam and Frank learned about this, all your efforts would go to waste…

“Argh! Thanks! Trying my best as a host!”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. I think it’s better to have this party here, rather than in a club.”

You regretted your words as soon as they passed your lips, knew you had made a mistake.

“We couldn’t book the place we wanted, had to settle on doing this at home instead,” Frank answered with disappointment apparent in his eyes and tone.

“It’s still very nice,” Andrew politely smiled.

“Well, I should get the champagne ready, it’ll soon be midnight!”

You and Andrew exchanged a look as your ex moved away from the crowd again, aiming his steps towards the kitchen.

“Phase one…” Andrew gave you a wink; you chose to ignore your heart’s response to his gesture.

“Time to save this party, Andy,” you teased, and he gave you a thumbs up that was so adorable, you had to blink.

Perfect plan.

Indeed, the look on Frank’s face when he discovered that the bottles had been misplaced was priceless. He called Sam for help, they looked for the bottles, didn’t find even a trace of them.

Andrew opened the right cupboard, the one where you had placed the bottles earlier, and called for Sam to show that the champagne was there.

“Oh! God! Thank you, Andy!”

He was granted a warm hug, one that made him close his eyes for a second, you noticed the relief that was written all over his features at the physical contact. He blushed as she kissed his cheek, and he was beaming when she pulled away. He gave her his bottle of prosecco, instead of waiting for midnight as it was planned, he simply couldn’t wait. She blinked up at him, gave him a warm, grateful smile.

“You always remember that,” she whispered under her breath, but you heard her words still. Frank heard them too, and you saw him glaring at Andrew.

It was working. Your crazy plan was working. Sam was still gravitating around Andrew, they were smiling. There was a pinching feeling tugging at your heart, and you ignored it. Jealousy was such an ugly feeling. And anyway, you couldn’t be jealous over Andrew effectively getting closer to Sam again, his success would be shared soon, as you hoped your plan would work for Frank and you as well. It would. You would have success, just like Andrew… that was why you were a little jealous, surely, after all…

Only, it didn’t work. It didn’t work, because instead of you pouring your glass over Sam, Sam accidentally poured her glass onto you.

You weren’t sure how it all happened. You were looking away from Andrew and Sam, staring at Frank who was laughing and joking with a friend nearby, being a perfect host. And all of a sudden, you felt something cool sipping under the fabric of your dress, turned to see Sam apologising.

“I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy, I… I didn’t you see you there…”

You looked down at the damage, she offered to lend you some clothes immediately. You noticed how Frank’s gaze softened at her words. And you hated it. You hated her. You hated him. You hated this party and the coming of a new year and the beginnings it announced. You didn’t need a new beginning, you needed the continuation of what you used to have. And this party, this awful party where you barely knew anyone, and you weren’t having fun at all, and…

“No, don’t worry. I’m fine. I… Actually, I don’t feel very well, I think I’m gonna go home.”

You saw Andrew’s frown, the one that formed at your words.

“Already? I’m sure we can fix this!” Frank argued, and you almost yielded.

“I’m not sure we’re the same size…” Sam mumbled.

When you looked into her eyes, you knew she had done it on purpose. You knew she had poured her drink over you deliberately, perhaps because of the way you looked at Frank, or perhaps because you had come with Andrew. You didn’t know why. What was for certain was that she had ruined your dress to make you go home, and you weren’t stupid, you knew what it meant, and you weren’t up for a fight, not when Frank looked at her like that, with love…

“You could still try some of Sam’s clothes on! I’m sure we can find something,” Frank argued, trying to hold you back.

You slowly shook your head.

“I have some clothes in my car, you could change,” Andrew offered, his gaze pleading now.

You noticed how he flinched when your eyes met his.

“It’s okay. I feel a little sick anyway. I think I’ll go home.”

Frank grabbed your arm as you took a step towards the door.

“Stay at least till midnight! There’s less than an hour left! You can leave after we’ve opened the champagne, yeah?”

You wished you could have said no. But Frank’s eyes in that moment…

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you yielded, making him grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.”

There was such gratefulness in his gaze, something tender, almost pleading, and you fell for it, you couldn’t help it. You had fallen a thousand times over for it.

You heard Andrew heaving a sigh behind you.

You opened your mouth to speak again, but Frank was swiped away by a guest, one of your former ‘friends’, and you were left staring at the blank space he had left behind.

He was moving away, leaving you behind…

Andrew and Sam were talking, you stared as she clung onto him for a rather long time. Andrew kept on nodding, let her do most of the talking. You didn’t notice the glances he threw your way, you were too busy looking for Frank again.

You checked the time after a long while spent doing meaningless chit-chat with strangers and people you had met a couple of times before. Ten minutes to midnight.

You looked around at the loud room. Conversations, exclamations, laughter, loud music that banged in your head, hitting your skull with the heavy kick of drums. Light, glitter, colours, beautiful dresses. Frank talking with some of his colleagues he had invited, paying no attention to you. Andrew talking with Sam and smiling sweetly at her.

You looked down at your glass, a drink half-empty already, studied the stain that spread across the fabric of your dress. You had felt beautiful while getting ready. You didn’t anymore…

You could have been with your real friends, with your family… what were you doing here, during those last minutes of a dying year?

You didn’t say a word to anyone as you put your glass down on the nearest table, made your way through the crowd, grabbed your coat in the closet by the door. No one noticed you leaving anyway. Frank didn’t spare you a glance. You were leaving, and no one noticed, because no one fucking cared…

“Y/N?”

You froze, a few steps away from the elevator, your hand already rising towards the button to call for an escape.

Slowly, you turned around.

Andrew was standing in front of the door to Frank’s and Sam’s apartment. On the threshold, standing still, he was staring at you with a questioning stare.

“Where are you going? You’re alright?”

You were too stunned to answer, remained frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, your finger still erect towards the elevator…

No one had noticed you leaving, no one…

Someone did…

“Y/N? You’re okay? Are you really sick?”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, I’m just… I just want to go home. I just… I need some fresh air.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shrugged, did a terrible job at hiding your tears.

He held a finger up.

“Give me a minute. Just one minute. Don’t leave without me!”

“Andy…”

“One minute!”

He looked at you with something expectant in his eyes, almost begging…

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

He grinned, the brightest smile you had seen on his features throughout the entire night.

He disappeared into the flat again, you waited for him for a minute, and then another, hoping he would come back, hoping he wouldn’t leave you behind, hoping Andy wouldn’t leave…

But then the door was opening again, he was stepping outside while putting on his coat. He had a couple of plastic cups in his hand along with a half-full bottle of champagne.

“You should stay,” you told him, speaking in a jolt, making Andrew freeze before he would reach you.

He blinked, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You�� you don’t want to talk to me?” he asked, looking down at his feet before you could answer. “I can just listen… I can be quiet if I’m boring…”

You frowned at him, taken aback by his answer.

“What are you talking about? You’re never boring, what…?”

He looked up at you again, blinking, trying to gauge your reaction.

You heaved a tired sigh.

“I just meant… that Sam was spending quality time with you, you… it was working for you tonight. You should stay, use that chance to talk to her and make her see the truth. Besides, it’s…” you looked down at your watch. “Two minutes to midnight. Don’t you want to be with the people you love most for the final countdown? Don’t you want to enter the new year with Sam?”

You saw Andrew blinking, but couldn’t read through his expression. It wasn’t blank, nor emotionless, but it remained unreadable.

Slowly, he walked over to you. He raised his hand, called for the lift without saying a word.

You stared at him with tears in your eyes.

The doors opened with a ding, you didn’t move, didn’t even flinch at the sound. Andrew stepped inside, caught your soul as he looked into your eyes when he turned to you.

“Aren’t you coming?”

You followed him.

Not a word was spoken as the doors closed, as the cabin went down the shaft, as it stopped with a gentle shaking of its cables. You stepped onto the freezing street in silence, looked at Dublin empty in this quiet neighbourhood. There were lights at every window though, some of them were open on laughter and joy and loud shouts and music that flooded into the quiet night. Far away, you could hear the whisper of traffic and honking cars, making noise while awaiting a beginning.

Andrew poured you a drink while the seconds ticked away, fluttering and fainting into the past. A past that lingered in your present still. Would it always be there, haunting the seconds to come, and the minutes they would build, and the hours, and the days, and the years?

Andrew handed you a glass, put down the bottle by his feet. You were standing under a tall oak tree, planted there in the middle of the city, a square of fertile soil in the void of manmade roads. Andrew stared at a flower that grew there, at the foot of a lamppost, just a weed growing despite the concrete.

He looked up with a tender smile on his face, raised his glass.

“Sláinte,” his voice rose above the first number of the countdown.

“Sláinte,” you answered with a smile of your own, a gesture that started shy but that grew stronger the longer you looked up at him, at the brown that stained the green of his eyes, and the specks of red in his beard, and the angle of his jaw, and the softness of his touch as his palm rose to cradle your face.

Five!

The shouts echoed from everywhere around you, deafening even if they were quietened by windowpanes. You heard the quiet gasp Andrew took before downing his whole glass, and you did the same. Your gaze met the stars that hung up there, on the firmament, for a moment, while your head was tilted back to drink the last bit of the cold buzz in your cup, to gather the tingling of bubbles on your tongue. They looked distant and cold, reassuring somehow. They were always there, always shining, even after they had died. The image you saw was millions, maybe billions of years old. The past was even up there, in the sky. And yet the moon shone for a new night.

Four!

You giggled as you swallowed, looking at Andrew again. And he did too, his cheeks flushed by alcohol, by the cold too. The tip of his nose had reddened as well. The lamplight was golden on his eyelashes.

Three!

“Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” you asked out of the blue, blaming the liquor you had been steadily drinking throughout the evening for the incoherence of your words. “I thought you liked them better than contacts.”

Two!

“Sam prefers when I wear contacts.”

You reached up to touch his cheekbones, to let your fingertips graze over the soft skin, along the sharpness left by the bone under it. He closed his eyes, gasped when you brushed his eyelids and lashes.

One!

“I think you should wear whatever you like. Although… I love your eyes. And you look soft with your glasses on. It makes me feel safe.”

He opened his eyes again, stared at you as your hands moved down to rest on the edge of his jaw, pinkie fingers barely skimming over his neck.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Andrew leaned down to press his lips to your forehead. You closed your eyes under the warmth of his skin, the softness of his lips, the roughness of his beard…

You felt dizzy as he kissed you, staying against your skin for too long, pulling away too slowly. You wished he hadn’t stopped…

He gave you a tender smile as he looked into your eyes again.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

You smiled, grinned even. You reached up, going on your tiptoes to drop a long, tender kiss on his cheek. It landed by the corner of his mouth.

“Happy New Year, Andy.”

[reginaphalangelobster125]

Put Your Head On My Shoulder

Natasha Romanoff x Magic GN!Reader

Summary: After months of pinning over your best friend all is revealed with some alcohol, some meddling and a song.

Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, alcohol consumption, fluff

This is my first time writing so please excuse the poor quality.

You'd had a crush on Natasha for a few months now. Your relationship had started off innocent, having short meaningless conversations over coffee, you wanted more but you didn't know what or why. After a while you went from discussing mission briefings and training strategies to real heart-to-heart conversations. She opened up to you about her time in the red room and about her sister and you told her details of your own difficult past. The two of you helped each other through past issues and formed a strong meaningful friendship, but you still felt like something was missing.

When you finally realised you had developed a crush on your best friend your tried to brush it off as something silly that would pass with time but it never did. Months later you found yourself looking at her when her gaze was elsewhere, and you felt terrible everytime you thought about telling her how you felt and jeopardizing your friendship. You thought about walking up to her and pouring your heart out only to be met with laughter or just a blunt rejection, crushing the best relationship you had ever had. So you decided to bottle up your feelings and suffer in silence, only what you didn't see was that when you were looking elsewhere Nat was looking at you feeling the exact same.

You still don't know exactly how Tony had gotten a hold of your sketchbook, filled with pictures of Nat, considering you had hidden it the secret compartment of a locked drawer in your room but then again he was a genius (who had probably lied about disabling all the team's bedroom cameras). While you were immediately furious with the billionaire for going through your personal property you ended up being somewhat grateful. (Although now you were going to hide things much better)

You ended up telling Tony everything and he was a suprisingly good confidante. Little did you know not a week after you swore him to secrecy, he had run to Steve with your news because not long before, Steve had found out about Nat's feelings. The two spent the next few weeks conspiring on different ways to get you and Nat to confess your feelings then it hit them, a Stark party always leads to something.

So the night of the party arrived and Tony, of course, had invited what seemed like half of New York City to the tower. Everyone was having a good time, drinking at least one liquor store's worth of alcohol. As the party started to quiet down just the team was left (excluding Bruce who had passed out in the kitchen, ever the lightweight). You all thought things would be finishing up soon that was until Thor had challenged everyone to do a shot of Asgardian liquor which knocked out Clint and left Tony quite unsteady. Not long after you had gone to the kitchen to check on Bruce and Tony followed sooth.

Alright, I dare you to sing a song to Nat.

Really, Tony? A dare, what are you, 12?

Yep.

No.

Come on!

Alright you've convinced me.

Really?

No!

She's been eyeing you all ni-ight...

Really?

Totally! Now go, while the night is young!

Fine. But only because I'm so drunk I might not remember my humiliation in the morning.

That's the spirit, lovebird.

Screw you tin can.

You walk over to see Natasha, sitting on the couch while Steve and Thor were talking across from her. She wasn't really paying attention, she was more focused on starring at you all night.

You sauntered up to her with an unusual amount of confidence probably due to the alcohol. You were usually quite confident and flirty, it was just your personality but when it came to Natasha especially these past few months you could barely hold a calm front, a blubbering mess inside.

You reached out and upturned palm for her to clasp with her own strong but in that moment almost shaky hand.

You guided her out of her seat and the two of you took a few steps away from the super soilders, who hadn't noticed you had left, and onto the open floor before you. The whole time not taking your eyes off each other.

With a delicate flick of your wrist bright golden sparkles floated out for your fingertips and music started to play.

She placed one hand in your outstretched one and as you placed a hand on the small of her back she placed her other on your hip. And in that moment you started to sing.

Put your head on my shoulder

And she did

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me all so tight, show me

That you love me too

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love

You and Nat continued to dance for what felt like both a lifetime and a single fleeting moment you wished would never end.

As the song began to fade out it only then occured to you that Nat had lifted her head. Your faces now within an inch of each other. You felt your breathing quicken and you heart beat faster, all that prior confidence gone. Nat was the one to close the gap her soft sweet lips pressed lightly against yours in what you thought might be the best kiss of your life, because it was filled with so much love and adoration.

You pulled away just enough to see her face and gaze into her beautiful eyes once more. After a moment you broke the silence.

I love you

I love you too

The End

[dysthoepiadaily]

I always say that I think Dan being as close as he is to his audience is insane... it's actually INSANE. He says he cares about his subscribers, and I buy it, but I also feel like... this is a terrible quality in some ways. It makes his content interesting and very refreshing, but also, the audience is always so fucking entitled all the time, and I feel like that would play on your mental health.

Someone like Phil doesn't really build that kind of relationship with his own audience (Not that I think Phil doesn't care, but I think Phil's focus is often more... making genuine friends with like minded people, which is better suited for times when your audience is very small), and that's why Phil is able to sustain his career a lot better.

And, the fact that people don't realize these key differences between them, and then constantly accuse Dan of faking his enthusiasm always pisses me off, lol... Why do you think content creators owe you their emotional life and well being?

Dan reacts with skepticism to the idea that his audience just wants him to be happy... I think that makes sense. Despite Dan's audience rooting for his happiness, an audience at large is more focused on the spectacle. We want to be entertained, and while we want the story of victory that Dan fed us (very well. His narrative is a great one), we also don't like the idea that his happiness can mean not posting as much. And, if his happiness means not posting as much, we start resenting him for not sticking to it (hence all the "Dan looks unhappier, the gaming channel is a cash grab, DD was terrible" etc).

idk... End of the day, as much as my bio is true for me, they actually aren't fictional characters, they are real life people, and sometimes, with real life, the narrative can change. With celebrities, you don't get the full picture, and you aren't really entitled to the full picture, either. I feel like... it's okay to be unsatisfied with content, but if you are, there's a LOT of other content to consume. You don't have to stick to Dan and Phil content. I feel like, when a creator is selling their personal lives, the line gets insanely blurry

[bear-remn]

—Deadly eyes concept art v1 ₊ ⊹

Hi! I have been working on my content since i been very inspired and i already have art of my oc's in addition to the dibaboys' opinions about my girls! this is volume 1!

—KIRARI MASAMI ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

—diaboy´s thoughts on kirari ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

—shuu:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"such a weird woman, walking like a ghost and bothering me while a sleep.."

"terrible smell, i´d kill her if i could but its such a bother.."

"dont really care, not my problem.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"a lewd woman, not good with words but her eyes and expresions tell me everything i need to know.."

"a little anoying, but i dont want her to stop anoying me.."

"kinda funny and mean when it comes to people she dosent like, basically hot.."

—reiji:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"bad blood and bad manners, such a case.."

"doesnt talk much, but when she open her mouth she only say´s strange thing´s.."

"why would that person send her if her blood is´nt good quality? and as a sacrificial bride?.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"such a needy human, wanting me to hold her while she sleep... "

"even if she is´nt a worthy woman for me, in some ways she turn to be... what i never thought i´d crave..."

"maybe she is not teh worthy woman i always picture, but is enough to be by my side, taking my father´s place with her by my side.."

—ayato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"yours truly doesnt care for a bad blooded woman.."

"ok? and?.."

"if i ignore her then she isnt here..."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"her blood is ok? but not really yours truly favorite.."

"she thinks is so cool just because she plays basketball and do boxing, she looks rediculous..."

"It's a little outrageous that Mako prefers the company of that woman intead of my company, yours truly is too good for her anyways.."

—kanato:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"who?..."

"such an unpleasant woman, teddy and i couldnt stand being around her.."

"the only good thing about that disgusthing woman are those eyes of her, shiny and clear... i dont have that kind of eyes in my collection hehe.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"still, the only good thing are those eyes, her blood is too thick, not really my taste.."

"she spend too much time with reiji, i hope that when she dies, reiji let´s me take her eyes hehe.."

"she is´nt as anoying as i thought, rather quiet.."

—laito:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"she acts like an abandoned cat, trying to isolate herself from others and acting tough, but cying in silence at nigth.."

"the messier the better.."

"sadly, her blood is terrible and her attitude is boring, what a same.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"reiji make her what she is now but, its odd that now they arent as close as before, funny right?.."

"i see her, how the others watch her as if we dont realize, they will not take her as they please, not that i care, but my big bro does.."

"kirari-chan doesnt make cutes faces as my pretty mako-chan, but i enjoy dessert.."

—subaru:

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

"the stink its unbreathable, her presence its disgusthing, she is disgusthing.."

"humans are so dumb, so sad and melancolic for no reason.."

"i dont care if she dies, as long as she doesnt make a mess.."

·:¨༺ when kirari recovers ༻¨:·

"she become emotionally dependent of shu and reiji, but none of them seems to be interested in what she really is.."

"she often hides in the plants but in silence, i appreciate the silence.."

"she doesnt try to kill herself anymore.."

.・。.・゜✭ bonus ✭・゜・。.・

—kirari

·:¨༺ while kirari was on drugs ༻¨:·

about shu

"fucking arrogant bitch, hope he choke´s on his own saliva.."

about reiji

"cool, control maniac but kinda cool? acts like a father and speaks funny.."

about ayato

"think he is a big deal but really is just a spoiled brat with a pretty face.."

about kanato

"please never touch me.."

about laito

"fucking weirdo, a little hot without the hat but too scary, he appears out of nowhere everytime and looks like he knows things, dark things.."

about subaru

"pretty boy but those anger issues, idk, too much anger inside one person.."

kirari opinion of the diaboys when she recovers its a secret hehe :p

.・。.・゜✭ ty! ✭・゜・。.・

hope you guys like it! mako comes in the next concep art volume post! if you have any suggestion tell me! i´d appreciate it!

btw the cover was inspired on @ausd art, go check her work it´s precious!

[fayes-fics]

Call Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: When you are parted from Benedict, he guides you through pleasuring yourself....

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, use of sex toy.

Word Count: 3.5k

Authors Note: this is a very belated request fill for the talented and lovely @broooookiecrisp from her ask HERE, where Benedict guides the reader through masturbation. She also chose the pic above, which looks very modern Benedict in Tuscany :) I hope you enjoy this story, my lovely. Thanks to @colettebronte for reading this through & @eleanor-bradstreet for the title. Enjoy! <3

The Facetime call connects as you recline, wearing your noise-cancelling wireless headset.

“Hello darling,” that familiar smooth voice greets, “I've missed you.” His sigh is deep and heartfelt. With the volume up, it sounds like he is lying right with you, but then it's in both ears; the stereo effect makes your tummy feel warm. 

“I've missed you too,” you hum, toying with the corner of the duvet you lay under. You are so happy he secured an artist retreat residency in Tuscany for the week, but you miss him terribly. He's only been gone a few days, but it feels like forever.

“I'm sorry this has to be an audio call; the wifi here is shockingly slow and the phone reception non-existent; I thought it better to sacrifice a blocky video for crystal clear audio,” he explains. “You will just have to imagine my face,” he adds with a soft laugh.

Indeed, your mind fills with images of his handsome face; you can even picture the gentle, lopsided grin you can hear in his tone.

“Are you somewhere private?” you ask, a little nervous.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” his question shifting into that lower cadence that fires all the butterflies.

“I miss you,” you offer again, hoping perhaps he can intuit what you are asking for, drawing your knees up, the cotton sheet catching on your heels as you do so.

“I miss you too,” he echoes again, “but I don't think that needs to be said in private,” his tone laconic. 

He knows exactly where your thoughts have slid, but he's playing innocent. He always goads you into pushing to speak your mind, to voice your desires, and tonight is no different—gently coaxing you to profess what you want.

“I want you to talk to me,” your voice with a slight waver that betrays a hidden meaning in the words.

“I am,” the timbre makes the little earphones in your ear almost vibrate, and a frisson runs down your spine.

“No…” you hesitate, “talk to me,” emphasising the word.

“If you want something from me, darling, all you have to do is ask,” his tone a dark lilting tease now.

“Talk to me like you do when we are intimate,” you rush out on an exhale.

His rich chuckle makes your nipples pebble without so much as a touch. “Now we are getting somewhere….” he buzzes. “Are you going to touch yourself for me while I do, hmm?”

You bite your lip but can't disguise the whimper that escapes. You close your eyes and flick the volume up two notches on your phone, throwing it aside so both hands are available. 

“I want you to tell me what to do,” you breathe, pushing the duvet down your body, feeling heated.

You hear the noise that catches deep in his throat; it's thick and desirous, and you thank the technology gods for headsets with this level of quality.

“What are you wearing?” he rumbles.

“Nothing…” you confess, knowing it's breathy and wanton.

“Oh god, yes,” his rushed response, a reflex that makes you clench your thighs together, loving how affected he is just by that simple statement. “Where are you?”

“In our bed.”

“Under the covers?”

“I was, but now I'm feeling hot, so I've pushed them aside. It's just me… naked… uncovered… alone… resting on your pillow…”

With each little phase, you can hear his breathing getting more pronounced. “Why my pillow?”

“It smells like you,” you answer.

“Does that turn you on?” his voice going tight.

“Yes, oh god, Ben, yes, it does.”

He growls lightly when you say his name, the noise in your ears so loud it makes you squeak, a hand straying to your breast.

“Guide me, please; I need to imagine it's your hands on me. “Draw me a mental picture as clear and evocative as one of your beautiful paintings.”

“Hmmmm,” his thoughtful hum runs right through your body with the volume up. “How about we take this slow, build to something? I have a painting I worked on earlier today. Would you like me to describe it to you? Describe how I would paint you into it?” 

“Yes! Yes, please,” you enthuse quickly, desperate for his artistry in all senses of the word.

“It's Tuscany, a sun-drenched summer’s day,” his storytelling is always spellbinding, so you settle back into the pillows as if listening to a private audiobook made just for you. “The sky is azure blue; the fields are bright, verdant green. Olive trees dot the rolling hills all around. Right in the middle is a small vineyard. A gentle slope of neatly rowed vines, the leaves canopying bunches of ripened grapes, drooping heavily, ready for harvest.”

As he speaks, you spider your fingertips over your collarbone, imagining the heat of the sun on your skin. 

“The grass between the vine rows is lush and thick, a balm from the heat,” his sonorous voice continues at a lush pace. “That is where I would paint you, lying on that hillside. The cool blades tickling your back as the sun bakes your skin.”

“What am I wearing, Benedict?” you inquire, gently biting your lip as your hands stray lower onto the swell of your breast, so enchanted by the picture he paints.

“Exactly what you are right now,” he responds with a slight hitch.

“Nothing?” you gasp, the idea suddenly so risque but more beguiling.

“That's right,” he rumbles. “I would paint you utterly nude.”

You brush lightly around your own areola, writhing gently under your own touch.

“Are you with me, Benedict? In this vineyard?” your breath quickening.

“How else am I going to paint you unless I am there too?” he teases gently. “And guess what I would be doing while I'm painting?” 

“What?” goosebumps on your arms with anticipation, your fingers moving concentric circles.

“I would tell you to touch yourself, just as I am now. There is nothing I want to paint more than you in the throes of ecstasy,” he exhales raggedly. “You are beautiful, wild, glorious….”

“I want that too,” you rush out. “Why have you never done it before?” 

He chuckles richly; the sound feels like a shimmer over your body. “Because it would be impossible to be near you when you are naked and not to touch you,” his admission is almost rueful. 

“I wish you were with me,” it’s wistful.

“I am,” he assures. “just remember hmm? Sunny hillside, naked, the sun on your skin and me there with you. Now, darling, I can tell you are already doing something; I can hear the quirk in your breath. Tell me, tell me in detail.”

“I’m..” you hesitate, “...I’m touching my nipples,” you rush out, finally letting your fingers trail over the nub, pebbling hard as he moans lightly.

“Oh yes,” he stutters, “don’t stop. Give them a gentle pinch for me. Between your finger and thumb…” he waits for your little hiss, and then he hums, “Mmm, does that feel good?”

“Yessss,” you hiss.

“Imagine it’s my fingers, darling,” he requests, and you do. 

You think of how it feels when his hands cup your breast, as you do now, and tease your nipples until you beg him to stop. You hear his breath catching in his throat as you make tiny little needy noises and tilt up a fraction off the bed, teasing yourself as he does.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now wet your fingers, suck on them…” 

You know he can hear the wet, suckling noise right in his earpiece as you do as commanded, returning your fingers and painting the dampness over your skin as it puckers heavily under the sensation.

“Now pinch yourself just a little harder; imagine it’s my tongue and teeth; I know how much you like it when I suck hard and just a gentle bite….”

“Ben…” you murmur his name as you move, your head rolling on the pillow, eyes fluttering.

“Fuckkk,” you hear him mutter, losing his composure. It makes something inside you catch fire, a tingle between your legs buzzing harder. 

“What next?” you beseech, wanting this to go quicker but at the same time to never stop.

“Slide your fingers down over your ribs, my love,” he stumbles a little, and you hear a squeak as if he is changing position.

“Tickles,” you giggle, and Benedict laughs softly with you.

“I know. I love to run the tip of my nose there,” he divulges, “or I may use a firmer touch. Do that, darling. Sweep your whole palm down, and feel the rise and fall with your breathing as you go.”

You do as asked, the heavier touch centring you somehow as your hand slips onto your tummy.

“Take your time, but don’t stop moving lower, darling,” he lectures. “You know I never do.”

It is so low it echoes around your whole being. Your thighs fall open, a trickle escaping your body.

“Oh god, I’m burning for you, Ben,” it’s out before you can stop it.

“Where?”

“You know where,” you obfuscate.

“I'm not there, remember? I need you to paint me a picture. I know you can do it. Don’t worry. No one can hear us; it’s just you and me. Missing each other.” His gentle, loving reassurance is the push you need.

“Between my legs,” you stutter under his coaxing.

“Are you wet for me?” he queries, panting a little.

“Yes,” you disclose quietly.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Not yet,” you swirl your fingers through the patch of hair, almost as if waiting for his permission to touch.

“You want me to tell you exactly what to do, don’t you?” He intuits.

“Please,” you croak.

“Okay. I just have one condition…” he tapers off, temptingly, knowing he has you on tenterhooks.

“What?” the question is breathy, impatient.

“You have to be loud for me,” he petitions. “Don’t you dare hold back; I want to hear it all.”

“Okay, I promise,” you whisper, your clit pulsing, aching to be touched.

“Alright….” He begins as you hear more sounds like he is getting into position in bed himself, a slight rustle of cotton. “Bend your legs, bring your heels up high right near your bottom…”

You do as instructed.

“Now, splay your knees out wide.”

Again you follow to the letter, feeling the cool air swirling around your exposed, damp slit. 

“Reach behind your head and then slide my pillow under your hips…,” he continues in that sinful tone.

“Why?” You check even as you do as asked.

“Because I want my pillow to smell like your pussy when I get home,” he snarls. The untamed way he says it, so loud in your ears, makes you squeak. He has no shame in being explicit, even if you often flounder to do the same. 

Now, with your hips raised, it’s easier to touch yourself; likely, he thought about that, too.

“Mmm, are you comfortable again?” he checks.

“Yes,” you confirm, hand slipping to where it was before.

“Good, now take your middle finger and slide it lower,” he instructs. “Keep going until you find that little clit of yours,” you swear he has entered an even throatier register now, each word like dark silk cloaking you.

As your finger pad slides over that spot, you can’t help the little ohhhh that escapes your lips.

“Oh yes, you’ve found it, haven’t you? Now slide a little lower, hook that finger, and pull back up.”

You do as told and moan as your finger immediately snags the most sensitive spot.

“Oh fuck yes,” you can hear the shudder in his tone, how affected he is, making you fizz too. The self-consciousness melts away as his precise instructions root you into your body, letting your mind shut off all the thoughts and worries—just focussed on the present.

“Swirl that finger gently for me, baby,” he compels, “anticlockwise.”

Instantly, your body responds as if it were his touch. You breathe deep as you keep moving, the slickness of your desire easing your motions.

“Are you swelling just a little?” he sounds more urgent now.

“Yes,” you confirm, your clit swelling under your touch as you picture him, his face hovering over you, imagining his fingers teasing you as his lips slid hot over your neck.

“Oh god, I love when you get all swollen and puffy and flushed right there for me,” he groans lewdly, and it’s a beeline straight to your pussy. It convulses around nothing, leaking over your bottom cheeks and onto his pillow. You call his name louder, squirming bodily, something tugging inside. Your body craves him—to be fucked, invaded, pushed open, pounded until it aches from that delicious stretch.

“Fuck I need you, Ben,” you moan as your fingers move faster, sliding over that little pearl. “I need you to fuck me so hard.”

“I want that, but not yet,” he grits out, your declaration seeming to fuel him. “Imagine it’s my tongue, darling, lathing against your clit, drinking up all that beautiful juice. You always taste divine, like a slightly tart peach, sweet but sharp.” 

Your mind supplies images of just that, his slightly stubbled jaw rubbing against the sensitive skin of your labia as he has to use both hands to hold you open to his onslaught, your legs reflexively wanting to close up around his head at the powerful sensations you feel, your fingers running into his lush head of hair, nails scraping along his warn scalp, praising his skill.

“When I tell you to, you grab your vibrator, baby.” he interrupts your reverie.

“Yes,” you comply, knowing it is tucked safely under your pillow beside you. 

“For now, keep rubbing for me; go faster,” he implores. “Let me hear you, your beautiful voice….”

You speed up, changing motions as he guides you to do so. Softly chanting his name as you notch higher up that invisible ladder. But he knows your body so well—knows with absolute precision when to shake things up, as he does now.

“STOP!!!” he instructs harshly. 

You instantly halt ministrations, whining, hearing his laboured breaths loud in your ear, your fingers frozen inches above your folds.

“Oh, are you pulsing baby? Are you so close to coming?” he sounds proud, almost smug.

“Yesssss…  please let me continue,” you plead, lungs heaving.

“No,” he menaces as your hand wanders over your thighs to stop the temptation to defy him, feeling the quiver in your muscles.

“Where has your other hand been?” he quizzes.

“Gripping the sheets,” you admit as he huffs a laugh about your honesty.

“Now swap. Touch your clit with that hand,” he tutors.

“What about my other hand? It's soaked,” you confess abashed.

“I know, baby, we are going to put it to good use. Slide two of those soaked fingers inside your pussy for me,” he instructs, so low that every word buzzes in your bones.

You call out his name as you slide two fingers deep into your own soaked pussy, rippling around your touch, a lewd, squelching sound as you do so.

“Oh fuck… I think I heard that,” he inhales sharply.

“You,” you assert, “you did this to me.”

He makes a feral noise in response, breathing in harsh gusts.

“Fuck yourself,” he growls, “fuck yourself with your fingers.”

Your movements are instinctual now, following his words to the letter. Shame melted away under the heat of desire. For him, for this. To come so damn hard you scream the walls down. Plunging your fingers as deep as you can reach, over and over. Your hips are pushed high off the bed, shoulder blades and feet taking your weight as you race greedily towards your peak, forehead and the back of your neck dewy from the exertion. Thinking of his fingers buried inside, of how, when it’s him, he holds you down with a solid quad muscle over your thigh, doesn’t let you buck up as you are now. 

“Please, Ben. I need your cock,” you bumble, uncensored, whimpering that you can’t quite reach as deep as he can, reach that spot that makes you babble utter nonsense and white out with pleasure.

“Grab that vibrator y/n. Fuck yourself properly,” he orders gruffly.

You release your clit and fumble under your pillow for it, a slight sound of victory catching in your throat as you do so. 

Without preamble, you thrust it inside yourself, just as he would with his cock when he knows you are this mindless. The stretch isn’t as good as him, not the same weight and heat, but it still feels like a heavenly sensation in your heightened state. Your noises staccato as you take it all on board, pausing slightly to get used to the invasion.

“Did I say you could stop?” he interrogates.

Without riposte, you scramble to obey, withdrawing the vibe then sinking it back in, attempting to ape one of his rhythms, the sense memory of him moving inside you making you moan loudly.

“That’s it. Does that feel good?” his voice practically a purr.

“Yes, but not as good as you,” you answer, missing the feel of him surrounding you when you are fucking. Skin, sweat, scent,  weight, the feeling of another body covering or moving under yours. 

“I know, darling. I promise it will be me soon. I’ll be home in a few days,” he pledges, breathing hard.

“Will you fuck me as soon as you are home?” you implore, wanting nothing more in this moment.

“Yes, baby. I’ll take you in the hallway if you want,” he vows, his cadence desperate.

“Please…” that word is all you can stutter as the hand controlling the vibe becomes a frenzy, your pussy clinging to its mass as if it were his cock.

“Don’t forget that engorged clit,” he reminds. “I need you to rub it as hard as you can with that other hand,” his voice is becoming more broken. “Im fucking you right now,” he avows roughly, “It's me, darling, fucking you so hard. And you feel so so good clenching around my cock…” 

You belatedly realise he may be touching himself, may have his cock in his hand as he walks you to orgasm. It makes your thighs tremble and clamp around your hands.

“Are you touching yourself too, Ben?”

“Yessss”, he hisses. Below the sound of your joint panting, you can hear the faint sound of skin slapping lightly as he fucks his fist.

It’s that image in your mind - him sprawled naked on a bed, skin sunkissed against the crisp white sheets, in a thick stone-walled Tuscan villa, the scent of wildflowers and the lush sound of crickets wafting through the open shutters - that hurtles you towards completion. Imagining yourself right there with him, gripping the wrought iron bed frame as he fucks so deep you can’t help but scream his name and shudder as it is his fingers snagging over your clit rather than your own.

The next few moments are a frenzied blur as, after some last gasps, you emit a long, loud scream as you come so hard, convulsing around the facsimile of his cock, your clit jumping under your touch, dimly aware he is still streaming filthy, needy encouragements that descend into gruff noises as he follows you over, the tell-tale sound of that final moment when he comes so loud against your eardrums as if he is right there slumped around you, his lips hot on your neck.

There is nothing but gulping breaths as both recover, feeling no shame, just a bone-deep satisfaction that makes you languid and heavy, not wanting to move, just curl up and sleep, a t-shirt of his you grabbed earlier your companion in his absence.

“Fuck I came so hard,” he sounds almost sheepish as it sounds as if he is cleaning up his torso.

“Me too,” you concur, little ripples of fire still running down your legs and arms, oversensitive to any stimuli; even the bedding feels almost too much.

“I want you to come again, but you sound sleepy,” he assesses correctly, and you hum in agreement.

“Too sleepy,” you slur the words as you turn onto your side and fling away the toy to be dealt with another time.

His amused sound is rich and warm. “Curl up, my love,” you once again find yourself carrying out his bidding without conscious thought.

“How long until you are home, Ben?” you mumble after a stifled yawn.

“Thirty-three hours,” you can hear the affectionate, lazy smile as he says it.

“Too long,” you lament gently into his t-shirt, the citrus-woodsy scent of him a comfort.

“Next time, come with me; it's beautiful here,” he murmurs ardently.

“I may love it there too much,” you jest, “I may never want to leave.”

“If you were here with me, I may never want to either,” he imparts softly.

You just hum contentedly. “Will you stay on with me?” you ask quietly, “until we fall asleep?”

“I never planned for anything but,” he responds fondly, a warmth blooming behind your ribs at his words.

And that is how you drift off, whispering sweet nothings as you slip into a restful slumber. The call only disconnects hours later when your batteries run out as you both sleep soundly.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @0x1harmonia0x1

[feroshgirlsims]

Chapter 7.2 - You Can't Go Home

AKIRA

As they filter off the train, the smell of iron gets further away and Akira finally begins to relax.

He asks her a ton of questions, partly because he's curious and partly because he wants to keep the focus off himself. Alice is in the middle of talking about her class when her body goes rigid.

Akira scans for a threat but comes up empty. Train stations are generally pretty clear of supernatural creatures, except low-level spellcasters and baby vampires at night. They aren’t much use when you can transportalate, turn into a bat, or run for miles in wolf form. And the fae avoid them altogether. 

“You good?” 

She flinches when he reaches for her hand. “I-I’m fine,” Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Do you smoke? Weed, I mean, not cigarettes. I…I think I’m gonna smoke. Do you wanna come with me?”

“I thought you said you had to turn this assignment in,” he reminds her.

She stares across the platform, but he still can’t figure out what she’s looking at. 

“I’ll do it later. And you don’t have to come. That was weird of me to peer pressure you,” her laugh comes out high-pitched and wrong, “You're probably busy. I’m good. I’m gonna go. And you’ll go, and I’ll just see you later.”

She's babbling and her hands are shaking. There is no universe where he just leaves her like this.

“Yeah, I smoke," he takes her hand and leads her to the exit. "And I got time. No classes, remember?”

Akira has been to the Commons a few times (for creeper reasons), but he's never climbed the tower. The air is especially crisp, but Alice doesn't seem bothered by it.

Despite resisting earlier, he finds himself wishing she would extract some promise from him—some commitment to keep him tied to her. It's a terrible idea. He knows better. Akira has always been careful not to break one of the rules he’d learned by brute force.

“This is a shit weed,” he coughs.

“Hey!” Alice playfully points an accusatory finger, “I invite you to my secret perch and share my paltry stash, and you insult me?”

“You need a new dealer if this is your stash.”

“And a new bank account!” She laughs. “Try to chillax, my dude; you are working against the medicinal benefits.”

He tries. His lungs fill, but it takes three more rounds of coughing before he evens out. Alice, meanwhile, is a professional. She barely coughs, though she's had twice as much as him. He's not even sure she's high.

"Why photography?" he asks when she joins him on the bench.

"Most of the time, I get asked about painting; no one even thinks about photography."

He shrugs, "Your focus isn’t Fine Arts. Why am I gonna ask you about something you don’t do? You want me to guess?" When she nods, he waves a hand across the sky, pretending to paint a picture. "Art lets you remake the world in a more pleasing image, which is kind of nice because the world is shit. But you do photography because you want the shitty stuff upfront. No lies. You'd rather tango with the truth."

She straightens, suddenly alert. "Maybe. Kind of. But photography is also lies. All you do when you snap a picture is capture a moment in time. You can still tell yourself a story about the emotion you saw or what really happened. It's just a different kind of lie from painting."

The weed is definitely kicking in, but he likes her explanation.

"So what are you studying?" she asks.

Direct questions are the hardest to dodge. Especially now when he feels like he’s floating a hundred feet in the air. "I'm studying nothing," he says honestly. "I just follow what interests me."

"Why?"

"Because I have a lot of time." Infinite, actually, if he kept his head attached to his body and didn't end up on the wrong side of a curse.

"If I had time, that's what I'd do too. And catch up on back seasons of 7 Wild Dates."

Akira laughs, "Stop. I changed my mind. That show is moving to the bottom of my watch list."

“Don’t be mean!” Alice sticks out her tongue, "That's quality programming you're missing."

They smoke more and talk about nothing, which feels like talking about everything because Alice leaps from topic to topic. She knows a little about a vast number of subjects, like knowledge for her is a series of wading pools and she's just hopping from one body of water to another.

It's how Akira operates too. Once he gets the gist of something, he's ready to move on.

“Tell me one thing about you so you can stop accusing me of hanging out with a stranger," she says, "Where are you from?”

A flash of pink sky. 

A veil that never seems to part.

A home he can’t get back to.

The yearning is so real he jolts. “What if I told you that nothing about me or my life is what it seems? And because I don’t want to lie to you, you’re probably gonna find I won’t answer all your questions. Maybe any of them.”

Alice thinks for a minute. “I guess I’d say tell me what you can, not what you can’t.”

Akira wants to praise her wordplay. He wants to kiss her. He does neither.

“I love horror movies,” he confesses, “When I was like, 10, I snuck into the Moonlight Massacre Marathon at the theater downtown, and I was fuckin’ hooked.” 

The whole story comes tumbling out, even the part about Titania being a little shit and ratting him out to their parents. Alice laughs and complains about her step-sibling, and Akira viciously guards every drop of information she shares with him.

“I like horror movies too. If I throw in Moonlight Massacre II, will that elevate 7 Wild Dates on your watch list?”

His phone buzzes with a reminder about tonight’s job. He gets to his feet. “Next time,” he tells her.

“You promise?”

A promise is a dangerous thing. 

—A binding thing. 

A vow. 

No promises. 

Akira nods, “Yeah, I promise.”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 3 of 4)

[crownedtargaryen]

Modern!Bran Stark Headcanons

A/N: honestly, this is just to give context to the one shot I’m writing and I made these in my class. A lot are of him being a silly little Twitch streamer. So, enjoy!! There aren’t a lot of NSFW ones, but shrugs or whatever.

ALL NOTES ARE APPRECIATED! (REBLOGS, LIKES, COMMENTS)

CW: Semi-Publicized Sex, Slurp Slurp Under Da Desk

NSFW 18+ HEADCANONS ARE IN THIS!

Pronouns: She/Her

SFW

He’s a huge gamer, 100%. The average League and Clash Royale player. He’s a variety twitch streamer in his spare time, honestly having a large following!

He works a lot on his upper body strength, keeping himself lean but not buff. He has a tendency to overexert himself a because he’s insecure about his wheelchair, trying to prove he can still be just as strong as his brothers.

Bran is a MASSIVE nerd, holy crap. He has limited edition collectibles and loves to show you them. At cons, he will buy insanely expensive merchandise and you stand there in shock at how much money he throws into those passions of his.

To be honest, he probably wouldn’t have been your friend if you weren’t friends with his siblings. Plus, you grew up with him which is a bonus. You helped him through the emotional distress he felt being now stuck in a wheelchair, encouraging him that you’ll do anything to help him learn to walk again. A naive child, which he constantly teases you for now. When people ask why you’re friends with him, you respond “I find him endearing is all!”

He works a lot on his upper body strength, keeping himself lean but not buff. He has a tendency to overexert himself a because he’s insecure about his wheelchair, trying to prove he can still be just as strong as his brothers.

Bran is a MASSIVE nerd, holy crap. He has limited edition collectibles and loves to show you them. At cons, he will buy insanely expensive merchandise and you stand there in shock at how much money he throws into those passions of his.

To be honest, he probably wouldn’t have been your friend if you weren’t friends with his siblings. Plus, you grew up with him which is a bonus. You helped him through the emotional distress he felt being now stuck in a wheelchair, encouraging him that you’ll do anything to help him learn to walk again. A naive child, which he constantly teases you for now. When people ask why you’re friends with him, you respond “I find him endearing is all!”

He’s had the biggest crush on you since kindergarten and has dedicated his entire love life to pursuing you. But, he has terrible rejection anxiety and so he hesitates to confess his feelings.

His love languages are as follows; Giving - Gift Giving and Semi-Physical Touch ,, Receiving - Physical Touch and Quality Time

He doesn’t show it nor admit it, but he’s SUPER protective of you and sends Jock!Robb and Jock!Jon to beat the crap out of people for you.

His siblings and parents LOVVVE embarrassing him in-front of you. They’ll tell you stupid stories that you weren’t there for, unflattering pictures they take of him they’ll text you, abut what REALLY gets him all flustered and pulling you away to his room to hide is when they drop unsubtle hints about his deep rooted feelings for you

Bran has really gotten used to swallowing down his emotions and hiding them from everyone. You’d have to know everything going on in his life to know how he truly feels.

He definitely went through a cringey stage in middle school, it’s haunted him since. He may need therapy.

Uses the words Pog, Pogchamp, Rizz, Bruh, Moist, and Holly Molay ironically, and repeats them regularly. He won’t stop. Help.

Can and WILL tell you the entire FNAF lore.

Always urging you into his interests and rambles for hours in what he loves. He’ll GLADLY indulge in your likings as well.

He’s on the neurodivergent spectrum. As someone on that spectrum, he totally is. He has special interests and will never stop talking about them while laying in bed with you.

He absolutely ADORES when upon send him videos and pictures you find on Pinterest or TikTok and say “us”

When you aren’t at his house he BEGS you to call him to merely feel your presence. He has insane insomnia when you aren’t with him and needs to call you to sleep.

On ALL his socials other than his Twitch, you’re his pfp. The thing is, he doesn’t pick flattering pictures of you. No. He picks the most meme worthy goofy photos of you and him, just LOVING it. He’s VERY public about your romance.

His stream LOOOVES you and constantly begs him to have you on. He acts like it’s bothersome but he secretly adores the excuse to invite you over. Of course, there are some of his fans that ignore your existence or don’t like you, which you come to realize is because they’re romantically attracted to him and feel you are an obstacle, so they find it better to be harsh or just ignore you all together.

He’ll do a karaoke stream with you and I love to imagine it’s like this video

NSFW

He loves when his family is out and he tells them he’s streaming so you can come over and just ride the fuck out of him in the living room.

He’s a pervy mf, eyeing you up and down always and getting hard-ons CONSTANTLY when he looks at you. It makes you so flustered noticing the huge cock in his pants rock hard and insanely visible due to his size.

Sometimes he’ll plead you to suck him off when he’s streaming, tying to keep himself together as he talks to his chat. He’ll let out soft whimpers and moans, but play them off as frustration. You’re surprised no one has caught on as he pushes your head down and swallows hard to stifle himself.

He’ll suck on your tits randomly. You’ll be cuddling and he’ll move under your shirt, whining softly and peeking through the top of your shirt. You look down at him and laugh, then give him verbal consent to continue. He’ll greedily lap over the buds, feeling up your sides and slowly grinding against your leg like the wolf he is.

He suggests an OnlyFans a few times and a NSFW Twitter, jokingly at first but then genuinely growing interested in the idea. You think it’s just for money, but he wants to show everyone who he belongs to and who belongs to him.

He loves nothing more than thigh fucking you, moaning into your ear and burying his face in your neck as he marks you up.

He has a private Twitter where he posts (with your consent) photos of him with the messiest hickeys on his neck and the scratches on his back after you and him fuck around. His captions are always goofy like “Just got mauled 🤭😏”

He loves when you ride him while he plays games, moaning softly into the mic and gripping your ass, unable to focus as he messes up and swears under his breath, burying his face between your breasts to comfort himself from the frustration.

[babyjapril]

Just wondering, what‘s your favorite quality about Japril together and as individuals? :)

Hiiiii! First I'm sorry for taking some time to reply, I wanted to sit down to answer, and not through my phone, also since this is an opportunity to talk about my blorbos, even though i'm bad at talking about why i love my faves, it still got a bit long, sorry <3

With April there are two qualities that I think about right away when I think about her so I maybe those are my favorites, even though there are more that I love about her. So the first two I think about when I think about her are how kind/considerate she is and also her competitiveness lol. I feel like she's actually too kind to some people, like Alex, who treated her terribly, but with that I also love seeing her standing up for herself and becoming more confident

I love how organized she is and it's cute how in the earlier seasons she was always taking pictures with her camera, I just know she'd make the best scrapbooks. And that she's a trauma surgeon, she def became a doctor bc she wanted to help people but she's a bit of an adrenaline junkie with trauma surgenry!! Also I'm always here for weird loser girls <3

(and not a quality of hers but the way in the beginning the show wanted to convice me to hate her bc she's "annoying" and then in general her being hated in the fandom makes me love here even more, idk I feel like Sarah just makes April loveable even when she's supposed to be annoying)

Jackson, I love that he's actually kind of a dork. Like "making medicine cool" and the fact that he has a lucky pencil. I loooove his sense of humor and I love how he treats his patients, his patients are some of my favorites (also love both his and Marks approach to plastics) .He works well under pressure, and he's a quick thinker, he was a hero in season 6 finale, oh but then again I can't forget saving a child from an exploding bus in season 9 finale. And you know he's just a good guy

And them together, well first I just looooooove friends to lovers trope but especially when it's done a certain way. Like especially when we can see the characters be friends, true friends first, and then they accidentally discover there's a spark. And when that kind of ship has chemistry I'm sold!! Japrils chemistry is just unmatched imo.

I love how they're different from each other, but they complement each other soo well. Jackson is the one person who always calms April down, and Mr Grumpus is always so smiley around her and his silly side comes out. They also have the same values even though they have different beliefs, Jackson said it himself at the end of season 10 so idk why the writers went back to "nooo they would't work together bc faith". Jackson was I feel like the first mercy wester the grey sloan residents liked and he is a likeable guy, he could make friends anywhere, meanwhile even when April is friends with majac there's a lonliness to her of a girl who's kinda in the friend group bt kinda isn't, but they both have each other, like even though Jackson could make friends anywhere April is his closest friend, and Jackson is a great best friend to April, that's another thing I like about them. Plus how protective Jackson was of April since the start of season 7, dragging her away from the residents that were staring at them, punching Alex. And I think there are some parallels, even though they're soo different and they grew up so differently, they both didn't fit in with their families .

Also I'm obsessed with how touchy they are, even when they're just friends they're always touching, they're just sooo comfortable with each other <3

(screencaps show another one of their qualities, they're sooo pretty both individually and together dhfhfd)

[painfully-painful-pain]

Fran Foofaraw German Advertisement name change

So lately I've stumbled upon a pretty lowres image of the German advertisement that had Frans unused character description. In it I believe it called her „Franke Schwanes(?)“ (or at least something with a "Schw-" at the beginning. Translated it is just „Swan-es“ or something. I may need new glasses.)

so I checked if the German TS1 version called her that same name. But it actually did not. Her name in that version is actually „Franka Fischer”

(Sorry for the terrible picture quality I'm playing it on my TV and won't play it on an emulator nuh-uh)

So maybe other advertisements changed her name too? Since she's no longer in TSBO (at least not with a name or being relevant to the plot) there's no other way to check in the game itself.

Why is my wording always so terrible when I talk about this woman

[sl-newsie]

Magical Romeo (Dr. Spencer Reid x New GF) 💕 *Valentine's Day Special* 💕

Another request (you don't have to if you don't want to since I made one previously). Maybe a Valentines Special where everyone notices Reid has been acting off since December (basically he got himself a gf in December and has been trying to hide it from the team bc he knows they'll tease him) JJ asks him what's going on and he tells her about his new gf and he wants to know how to make their first Valentine's Day special. Garcia, JJ & Emily all pitch in to make sure that Reid's first valentines is flawless.

This is probably some of the sticky-sweet fluffiest romance content I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy this holiday special!

General POV

“What do you mean you have a girlfriend?” JJ gushes.

“Shh!” Dr. Reid hisses, anxiously looking around the currently deserted break room. “Yes, JJ. I have a girlfriend.”

This is why Spencer kept his relationship a secret. Anything personal gets gobbled up as workplace drama. But February fourteenth is inching closer and closer and desperate times call for desperate measures. He’d hoped JJ would be discreet.

“For how long?” She beams, edging him to continue.

The geek nervously licks his lips. “Almost two months. We met at the dry cleaners.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Her name?”

“Giselle. We-” Spencer cuts himself off when he sees JJ’s look of surprise. “What?”

“Does anyone else know?” She whispers.

“Just her family and my mother. I’d prefer to keep it that way but I need your help.” He points to her. “Only your help. Not a word to Morgan!”

“Okay, okay,” the blonde admits with understanding. “So what do you need help with?”

Reid reminds himself of the reason for this abnormal conversation and nervously plays with his hands. Here it goes.

“Right. Well… It’s Valentine’s Day next week.”

“Uh-huh. And…” JJ raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. “You need help conjuring romance?”

Spencer lets out a stressed groan. “Exactly. I’m not saying Giselle is expecting much but that’s the problem!” His eyes go wide and he starts frantically gesturing in the air. “She always says she doesn’t need anything big but I want to make her feel special! How am I supposed to do that if she won’t give a clue about what kind of romance she’d like?”

That is a puzzle. One that JJ has heard of many times before. More than likely this girl is telling the truth and not subtly hinting. 

“Have you observed a love language?”

Spencer gives a small nod and hands her a list. “Partially. Here are some ideas. She really likes quality time and physical touch- don’t give me that look!” He complains when JJ gets a devious smirk. “We’ve only kissed and held hands.”

Her jaw drops. “For you that’s like a germ fest. I’m surprised you’ve gone that far. You must really like her, Reid.”

“She’s…” Spencer lifts his head back and closes his eyes. “Amazing. I just hope I can find a way to give her a good date.”

JJ gives him an assuring pat on the shoulder. “Alright, I get the picture. Mind if I ask around for ideas?”

“If you’re referring to Garcia then my relationship mine as well be broadcast on the news,” Reid mutters. “That woman is terrible at keeping secrets.”

JJ retrieves an apple from the fridge and gives him a wave before heading out. “I promise to make sure we keep a lid on this. I’ll get Emily to help too.”

“Thank you, JJ! You’re a miracle worker!” The geek whispers excitedly, still keeping his situation hidden. 

Why can’t a genius profiler with an IQ of 187 and PhDs in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering plan a perfect date? Well, nobody's perfect. At least he knew when to ask for help. Because even if Spencer isn’t good at interpreting romance then he will at least find someone who can. He struck gold with this new relationship and by God he is going to do the best he can to support it. With a little help, of course.

The instant Hotch calls for the workday to be over, JJ herds Emily into Garcia’s lair and carefully shuts the door. Garcia, having chosen to wear a cotton candy-colored dress with white heels and pink daisies in her hair, feels ecstatic to be having some girl time.

“Ladies, we have a new mission,” JJ explains with hands on her hips. “Code name: Romeo.” 

Prentiss frowns and exchanges confused glances with Penelope. “Romeo?”

“Reid’s got himself a girlfriend and needs us to help plan their Valentine’s evening.”

Penelope’s jaw drops and she starts clapping as she begins typing away at her laptop. “Oh my stars, this is really happening! I need everything! Name! Hair color! Favorite movie! Favorite food-!”

“Whoa, hit the brakes, Garcia.” JJ looks up to make sure no one’s watching from outside. “First of all, we must all agree to keep this from anyone else. That means not telling a soul.”

The pink computer nerd places a hand on her chest. “Cross my gushing heart and hope to die! I have been waiting to plan a date for Spencer for ages!” She turns back to her screen. “Trust me, girls. This new girlfriend of his is going to faint from adoration after all the romance we will plan for her!”

Emily nods in consideration and claps her hands. “Then let’s get started. What is her name?”

“Giselle,” JJ replies and pulls out Reid's scrap of paper.

“Gorgeous!” Penelope sings. “What are her interests?”

“Reid gave me a list. Um- She enjoys reading biographies, watching Harry Potter… She’s a Ravenclaw, if that means anything.”

Emily smirks. “You never read the books.”

“Anyways. Her favorite artist is Ludwig Göransson and her favorite color is aqua blue.” 

Prentiss waits for more but that is all. “Does she like cards? Flowers?”

JJ shrugs. “That’s the problem. Reid said she doesn’t care if they do anything big and likes spending time with him no matter what they do.”

Garcia waves it off. “Oh well that’s not going to cut it! Lemme see… A-ha! Bingo! I found a romantic magical dinner for two. There’s a restaurant an hour away from here that’s decorating Harry Potter-style for Valentine's Day.”

JJ waits for Emily’s approval. “How’s that sound?”

“I’d enjoy it so I think it’s safe to say that Giselle will. I mean, she’ll be with Spencer so what’s not to like?”

All three ladies nod. “Right. We’ve got a venue down. Now it’s time for gift ideas!”

Giselle's POV

When I first began dating I expected it to be an issue of time and money. After all, I’ve never had a legit boyfriend and never believed that I would be worth so much. How wrong I was! Not only has Spencer always picked up the tab but it ends up him being the one to apologize for not spending enough time with me! I always counter-argue that it’s not his fault. Criminals don’t clock out and who else is clever enough to catch them after hours?

When I saw Valentine’s Day was approaching I didn’t think much of the holiday. Honestly, every date with Spencer feels like a holiday. Why does the calendar need to emphasize it more? But I guess Spencer has other ideas.

“Aw, that’s really sweet. But Spencer, for the last time we really don’t have to-” I try to convince as the car cruises down the highway.

“Case is closed!” He interrupts with a lopsided grin. “I have a surprise for tonight.”

I hang my head in bashful embarrassment. “You didn’t-”

“Yes I do.” He reaches over and takes my small hand. “I want to do it to thank you, Giselle.”

My brow furrows. “Thank me? For what?”

“For sticking with me. For being the incredible person you are and wanting to be a part of my crazy life.”

He takes the next exit and we enter a part of town I’m unfamiliar with. Does he really think I would have trouble holding onto his life? 

“You never need to thank me, genius.” I smile and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m with you no matter what. Now when can I find out what this surprise is?”

Spencer tries to contain his giddiness and only gives me a side glance. “You’ll have to wait and see…”

“Oh really?” I lean in closer and bat my eyelashes with a sultry gaze. “You can’t give me a hint?”

That gets his attention. His grip on the wheel tightens and he starts blinking rapidly. It’s adorable!

“I m- might if you keep looking at me like that.” He pulls into a parking lot and reaches for a bag in the backseat. “Um, I already packed what we’ll need so all you have to bring is patience.”

I look down at my current outfit. “So this plain black dress is alright? I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer traditional red for the occasion-”

Spencer whips his head up. “No, no! It’s perfect! But then again you look dazzling in anything you wear.” I look away with timid nerves and he tries to inch closer. “Why are you hiding?”

His teasing voice makes me smile so much it hurts! I don’t dare to look directly at him because if I do I will turn beet-red! It- How is he so charming?!

“You’re making me blush!” I giggle and swat him away. “Stop being so perfect!”

“Can’t help it. You’re too good not to love.” He steps out and rounds the car to open my door. “After you, darling!”

“How exciting! This is definitely the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had!”

A quick look of doubt crosses his face but he swiftly repairs it. “Do I have much to compete with?”

I shake my head. “No! That’s why I’m loving this so much! I’ve never had a real boyfriend before you, Spencer. That’s why I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.”

There’s that look again. A look that makes me think I’ve sent Spencer’s overthinking mind crashing down. He grips my hand and keeps staring at me with those calculating eyes that melt into chocolate.

“Did I just break your brain? Are you okay?” I wave a hand over his face.

“Yeah- Yeah,” he stutters with delight and goes on to search for something in his bag. “Now hold on a sec-”

I see him pull out something black and suddenly my vision is blocked by a soft piece of cloth. I feel my other senses kick in double-time and focus on trying to hold onto Spencer to keep my balance.

“Wow. I never took you to be one for a blindfold kink.”

He panics. “It’s not-!”

“Nah, I’m just teasing!” I swat him playfully. “Just please help me around so I don’t run into a wall or something.”

He pulls me back when I start moving. “Hold on. I’ve got to put this on you.”

Spencer drapes a familiar garment over my shoulders and feeds my arms through the sleeves. 

“Is this my cloak?” I wonder out loud.

Spencer gives no answer. Instead he grabs one of my hands and places his other hand on my back to guide me forward. Thank God it’s not raining! We carefully move across the pavement and I almost stumble when we depart from the sidewalk. Are we crossing a road? Oh! Those are steps. Now we’re walking through a door… My, it smells good in here! Is it the blindfold or does this place look really dim?

“Just a little further…” Spencer murmurs and softly presses me down into a plush chair cushion. “Ta-da!”

He slips the blindfold off and I first notice our table is placed by a window. I look up and I’m faced with- The Three Broomsticks? No, it’s got to be a VR set! And is that supposed to be Dumbledore’s office? Everyone’s dressed up as Hogwarts students!

I have no idea how long I’ve been staring. I also don’t know how long my mouth has been hanging open. For the whole time Spencer has sat and watched with eager anticipation. 

“Did you transport me to Hogwarts?!” I marvel, still scanning the room. “Where on Earth are we?”

“I thought you’d like this for tonight’s ambiance,” Spencer beams. “Is it too much?”

“Not in the slightest! This looks amazing! How did you find this place? Did you plan this just for me?”

He wrings his hands together and chuckles. “Yeah, but I can’t take all the credit. I had some coworkers cook up some ideas for tonight. As you might guess I’m, uh, not so good with creating romance.”

Um, not good with romance? Does he know how good of a charmer he is?

I squeeze his shoulders and give him another playful grin. “You did fine when we had our first kiss.”

Spencer’s eyes widen and he chuckles nervously. “Yeah, and then I went into a ten-minute rant about the health benefits of kissing.”

“Yes. And I found it to be very sweet and charming. That is the part of you I love most.”

He wants to say more but we both spot an employee approaching with menus in her hands. She too is wearing a robe and has chosen a maroon tie.

“Good evening! My name is Jess and I will be your server tonight. May I ask what houses you two are in?”

Spencer and I exchange glances. “We’re both Ravenclaws.”

“Excellent!” Jess beams and points to her tie. “I’m a Griffindor myself. Now then, can I start you off with any drinks?”

Right! Drinks. Like the drinks on the menu sitting right in front of me. Get your head back together, Giselle!

“I’ll take a pumpkin juice,” Spencer answers first.

What to choose… They all look good! “I’ll have a polyjuice potion.”

Jess jots down our orders. “Wonderful! I’ll be right back with those. In the meantime you folks enjoy our wizarding world!”

She skips off to the bar and Spencer reaches for the mysterious bag again.

“I also brought your wand and tie. Um, would you like your present now?”

This isn’t it? He got me a gift too?! How can I compete with this? 

“Oh God, Spencer. You didn’t have to get me anything.” I smile and gesture to the decorated room. “This alone is marvelous!”

He leans back and gives me a playfully doubtful smirk. “Okay. Then what’s that hiding in your purse?”

Drat. He saw it. But can he blame me for wanting to give him something? I didn’t expect anything from him but now after seeing this I’m starting to doubt my small gift to him.

“Okay okay, you caught me.” I push my bulky purse behind my chair.

Spencer pulls a red box out of the bag and holds it out to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Giselle.”

I gingerly take the package and set it on my lap. The lid slips off and I dig my way through pink tissue paper- Aw!

“Oh, Spencer…” I gasp as I hold up the sweater.

In one word, it’s beautiful. It’s a navy-blue sweater with gold stars stitched onto it. In the front the Harry Potter logo is etched in silver and illustrations from the books line the sleeves. It’s like he embedded my childhood nostalgia into the fabric!

“This is so sweet. It’s officially my favorite sweater!” I wrap him into a warm hug. “Thank you.”

Spencer accepts the embrace and I feel him give a relaxed sigh. “I’m glad you like it, Giselle.”

“Now it’s your turn!” I jump up and hand him his own gift. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Spencer, still wearing the expression that says I didn’t need to get him anything, reaches into the small purple gift bag. Meanwhile my breathing has suddenly become more strained. I hope he likes it. He pulls out the picture frame and his smile falls.

“Did- Did you make this?”

He doesn’t like it? Did he want something I didn’t know about? Is it too one the nose? It’s only a frame filled with pictures and drawings of his hobbies. And his job. I made a collage of some pictures his mother gave me and drew some pictures of him in his BAU uniform. To top it off I patterned the frame with Dr. Who stickers.

“Yes,” I answer meekly. “I know it’s not much-”

“This is so thoughtful!” He comments, still staring at the art piece. “You actually… Wow.”

I get a cheeky smile and place my hands on his shoulders. “You’re not the only one who can profile someone, mister FBI guy.”

Spencer gawks and shows a mock look of injury. “Hey! I can’t help it. I can’t just switch it off.”

“No, and you work wonders with it.” I ruffle his shaggy hair. “I mean, you profiled me just to give me a well-thought Valentine’s Day!”

He lets out a laugh and ducks away, straightening his hair.  “So you like it?”

“Like it?” I repeat in disbelief. “Spencer, I love it! I love you!”

It’s all I can do not to throw my arms around him. Stay down, Giselle. Remember he’s not as touchy-feely. Instead I grab his large hand and stare at him with a look of joy and content. He himself seems to finally relax and share my cheerful smile just as Jess begins walking over with our magical drinks.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

General POV

It is a good night had by all. Across the street, three familiar women sit in another pub, hiding behind menus. Every once in a while they take turns looking up to spot the lovestruck couple through the window.

“We did good, ladies,” JJ complements and raises her glass.

Garcia, wearing a pink and red dress, raises hers too. “Operation Romeo is a success! She’s even prettier than I imagined!”

The three agents toast to their friend’s new relationship and after a small meal of nachos JJ looks back up again. Reid and Giselle have gotten their food now and seem to be having an expansive conversation.

“So are we going to leave now or keep hiding?” JJ asks.

Emily takes another look outside and hums. “We’ll go. After one more drink.”

Hope this is the Valentine's spirit you were looking for!

[sordidmusings]

Just a life update and opening!

Brought up because of an ask wondering if I still do stuff here so I figured I'd put out some of whats goin on if anyone is interested! Also throwing it into the void of the internet feels less guilt inducing than forcing it on specific people especially after how overwhelmed folks tend to be cuz I'm bad at metering it out and not just being like 'light jokes about struggle that don't scratch the surface or say anything meaningful' and 'here is all the dark lore' 💀 It's also been a struggle because there really does sometimes feel like theres a whole ass language barrier within your own language when you're AuDHD.

I do still do headcanons and write and draw and yada yada there’s just been quite a bit happening and I’m doing poorly at keeping up with life maintenance let alone things I enjoy 🥴 with writing especially in my hobbies I find myself discouraged in what feels like poor quality of my writing and seeing that reflected back to me because I am Weak 💀 general overview of some of the bigger problems below the cut if you’re interested but I won’t bother y’all with the whole picture! Will be more a summary/overview/alluding to things over getting into gory details. Basically a lot will be covered but I won’t force anything below the broad strokes on y'all.

The end is an ask for people to please reach out if they are struggling so please take that seriously. I offer a space with me but please find wherever in this world you are at least somewhat comfortable and have someone be there with you while you process 🤍 I will have a header above that little piece just incase you'd like to skip to only reading that which is completely fine!

CW for mental health talks, allusions to family issues, references to rape and abuse, death by suicide, and suicidal ideation.

What's Up, Doc?

Between hospitalizations (old and new issues and unfortunate near misses 🤡), my couple jobs (the days my body ain’t tryin to give up and even some days it still is means back to the grindstone. Thank you capitalistic overlords 💀), money stresses (medical debt plus just like y'all know shit ain’t the best for most everyone rn), the spring struggle (nightmares + flashbacks get worse from seasonal + anniversaries of men not caring for consent amongst other things lmaoooo), the mental health slew (diagnosed with AuDHD and most of the big hitters besides a personality disorder), and a few other life happenings and old traumas I’m doing a terrible job at everything 🤡 most of it ain’t new so I know all the proper things to do to help for everything from years of therapy and managing the symptoms and all that but dotting my i’s and crossing my t’s hasn’t been offering any relief for a long while so I’m floundering and quite exhausted.

The health issues making everything difficult and painful ain’t helping but I’m also not being the best at taking care of some of them because Why Bother 💀 Many are issues I’ve had for years that ebb and flow in severity and I’m just tired of feeling them and having to manage them. I’m sure any of you with chronic issues understand the feeling well. Those with years and years of major depressive disorder probably also understand the frustration and exhaustion and guilt with knowing you should enjoy something, you WANT to enjoy it, but your body just can’t produce the reaction it should.

I tend to isolate because I’m managing it poorly enough that the topic tends to crop up with the closer few if they ask and that goes Badly cuz, even if they think they won’t, people get uncomfy with the topics which just makes me feel Worse from guilt and sometimes frustration from it being passed over for their comfort or lack of understanding. I am lucky enough to have more recently found one person who Gets It and a beloved soul from lovely old Jersey came back into my life so the bigger problem in that situation is me allowing myself to consistently receive support from them 🤡 One’s so sweet always telling me I can call any time and the other is of the same vein and my dumbass brain keeps being like “but that would bother them” or the usual “you deserve to get worse not get help” 🤡🤡🤡. Clown ass behavior.

Also some bad coping mechanisms make my typing and communication sloppy as hell and I’m quite ashamed of that so best hide that away while it’s going on 💀 due to insistence that it’s Fine I have forgone that instinct to what feels like very Poor Result 🥴 ah the eternal struggle between needing to be Seen to fight the sense of isolation and worthlessness but also being petrified of being perceived while imperfect. Not having any of the connections really be in person doesn’t help too much with feelings isolation because I don't really have anyone around me besides parents that have literally said "why are you making us deal with this" about the intentional near death miss 💀💀💀 my immediate world feels very much like it wants me gone in explicit and subtle ways but c'est la vie. Beggars can’t be choosers so at this point I’m likely just being ungrateful 🤡

One thing making it harder to keep trying is my folks’ years of insistence that I don’t understand my own experience and I’m just dramatic and make things up. It’s an echo of many painful experiences including a whole group intentionally playing games with my sense of reality to enable their friend’s abuse (they got unconsensual nudes from him out of it so that’s worth the price of treating someone like that right?). Such is life.

One of the new things I’m uncertain how to approach handling properly is the grief and such shifting back to the forefront from the first anniversary of my childhood brother figure being taken from us by his bipolar depression. I have known people taken by suicide before but not this close to home. My childhood wasn’t the happiest but he and his family were a bright place in it. His little sister was my best friend in the whole world through my childhood and their family treated me more like family than my own. He was the best mix of a good and bad influence in an older brother figure I could’ve wished for. He fought long and hard but exhaustion hits us all, sometimes even with proper help. What eternally pains me is knowing how helpless and scared he must have felt and even worse how absolutely alone he felt. That was his last feeling in this life. I can only hope that more than anything, whatever happens next is giving him relief, peace, and rest.

Talk on reaching out below!

On that note, if any of you experience suicidality too, my messages (or ask if you’re more comfy on anon) are always open. This is an issue that’s been in my life in many forms since I was 12, so I will not shy away from you or your thoughts. Even if shared with something uncomfortable or "ugly", I find the discomfort of sitting with someone’s pain negligible in comparison to being the one in pain so why not prioritize that person in their need? It’s also negligible under the importance of truly holding space to process those hurts and stresses instead of just simple little niceties.

I am not the best at being active but if I see any of these messages especially we will truly talk. I know how insanely isolating and disappointing it can feel when someone offers support to be nice and then shoves to the next topic or barely responds because it makes them uncomfortable. It is a bitter pill we must often swallow to forgive those who think they will help for making things worse because they have bit off more than they can chew. It is also a bitter feeling that that reaffirms to us that by our very nature, we are too much to handle and are too much to deal with for sharing our internal space and circumstance. But at the same time, all of us are simply human so who am I to malign someone for making mistakes or being imperfect? So long as someone truly wants to try, there is all the reason in the world to give them grace.

Qualifications kind of???

The one good thing that has come from a lot of the experiences that I’ve gone through is that it has forced perspective on me and forced me to learn skills in holding space, validating, and connecting to others in immense pain. No one is perfect in this skill (even therapists struggle - the number who have said they don’t know where to start untangling the traumas or who have cried at it and in turn needed comfort 💀 a strange experience I know my darling at least gets too lol) but I have found in both giving and receiving that honesty and openness is W A Y more important than being perfect.

This is something I’ve watched more people struggle with than not as life circumstances has not made it so that they must learn the skill at the same time that there are resources to learn it, so I may make more posts with advice for it than the bit I go through here. I’m not a licensed therapist so this isn’t going to be a clinical breakdown of how to be someone’s therapist but I would consider my experience as a confidant, consistent reading up on psychological and related sociological research, and experience going through various forms of therapy worthy of giving solid advice. Unfortunately, co-morbidities and resistant brain chemistry really make using the skills on myself Difficult 💀 but as brief examples of experience for validity speaking on this, I’ve been to a lot of group therapy where licensed therapists literally coach you on this, guided a safe space/group for SA survivors in college, coached friends who couldn’t afford therapy through suicidality or abusive situations, and coached survivors through feelings and decisions when deciding whether or not to charge or going through the process of charging their abuser. All of which is much easier to be effective to people you know irl but the support online can be nothing to snub your nose at either. None of this is to say I'm perfect or exceptional - neither is true - just that I’ve had circumstances and experiences that afford me a bit of extra knowledge in this.

In the vast majority of cases, someone who is struggling and coming to you for help wants you to be there - your thoughts, your feelings, your perspective. They don’t want someone sitting uncomfortably and saying the occasional “sorry” they want engagement because more than anything they don’t want to be alone. In a basic example, if you find yourself freezing when someone comes to you with something you don’t know how to handle, instead of saying nothing or only short cliches due to fear of making a mistake, be honest about that. “I’m not sure what to say right now to be honest because that’s so much to deal with. I can’t imagine having to live with that all the time. Is there anything in it frustrating you the most or that you’re having the most difficulty tackling?”. This is active listening and engagement. You are being honest with where you are at so they aren’t guessing what you’re thinking, you are showing that you see how overwhelming the situation is, especially for the person who has to live with it. If you can’t handle a conversation where these issues exist, how do you think it feels to live with them day in and day out, sometimes for years or the majority of a life?

Asking questions is SUPER important too. Trust the other person to only share what they are comfortable with and don’t assume all questions are bad. Asking questions is one of the truest and simplest ways to show you care because why would you want to know more if you don’t give a shit? Asking questions is also very helpful and one of the reasons talking to others about your issues is important - it gives the person struggling something to react to and give perspective. It helps them process the issue in ways they won’t be able to do by themselves. This may make the process sound slightly manufactured but I promise it’s not, especially as it becomes second nature to know what thing to use when. Communication is a skill so advice around it will inherently make it sound more clinical than the actual process is.

People are also not a monolith so while this type of being there works for the vast majority some people may not like it. That is also where communication comes in - check in with the person on if this is helping and what isn't helpful. Make sure to adjust when you make a mistake.

Conclusion

I’m happy to hold space for other issues as well. I’m no replacement for a therapist but I’ve been a helpful supplement to many people I knew struggling throughout the years so I’m at least okay at that! Since I’m doing pretty bad functionally right now the help won’t be as consistent as I wish but I will give whatever is in my power just like these things deserve. I hope to get better soon so that I can properly offer a stronger foundation of support outward again 🤍

[whatiwishfanfiction]

Chapter 12

Once-ler turns evil. Gets dark at the end. Read the whole thing on Ao3. Excerpt:

It was nice when he could get a second guitar without even thinking about it. Perhaps even nicer than it would have been to someone who didn't have heartbreaking memories of always being told his parents couldn't afford a good one for him. After all, hadn't it been just the other day he'd asked for one on his eighth birthday in front of the music store window and gotten tears in his eyes when his dad told him no?

He didn't have any memories of clothes-shopping as a child either. All he'd gotten was hand-me-downs for short people from his church's charity drives. Surely other people had always gotten measured at tailors to get jackets and trousers of the highest quality to fit them perfectly. This, of course, justified the exorbitant bill when he bought a new designer wardrobe complete with extra tall top hats in his favorite black and bright green colors.

It turned out, the world was full of things he'd never been able to appreciate before he'd had money:

Clothes, drinks, cars, trips, events. There were so many more opportunities when you weren't just a poor helpless urchin…

He would never go back to being poor. Never. He was even worse than his Ma, after a short time.

"Oncie, don't ya think maybe we could take a day off to have a family picnic and celebrate the end of summer like in the old days?" she said to him one day.

Once-ler looked up from the photos he was studying for a new billboard advertisement. He'd almost settled on what he thought was a charismatic picture of himself with his arms spread wide and an eye-popping grin on his face, though Brett had remarked it made him look rather possessed.

"Ha!" He slammed down the photos. "You mean the old days when we were poor and miserable? Why don't we take the whole week off and have a real party? Or better yet, a month-long tropical vacation?"

His Ma blinked. "Sounds real nice, honey, but who's gonna run the company? Didn't you just get back from a cruise? Ain't ya gettin' just a little too extravagant these days?"

"Who cares? I'm rich! We got a million employees now. Besides I deserve it cuz of all the sufferin' I went through before."

This excuse got less impressive by the day as Once-ler's new luxuries quickly outweighed any misery he'd previously endured. His identity as a lower class citizen faded even more quickly from his own memory and personality than it did into the past.

"I'm so glad that in the last year I was finally able to discover the real me," was something he'd told everyone in his family more than once since they'd returned. It never occurred to him that what he meant was: "I'm so glad I finally have money to do whatever I want without any consequences."

***

2nd excerpt:

"I just wanted to tell you, the Barbaloots are dying."

Something got through the iron-clad self absorption that had enclosed Once-ler for the last few months. He was surrounded by terrible people all the time now, but when harm fell upon innocent creatures, it was different. He remembered the little Barbaloot that had given him a hug after the fiasco in the river.

"What do you mean dying? How can they be… Surely they're not actually dying ?"

"There was something in the water that made 'em sick. Something from your factory that set in quick. It's making 'em not move and lay around. And some of 'em…" There were tears in the Lorax's eyes. "Some of 'em ain't gettin' up from the ground."

READ THE FULL THING ON AO3!!!