#where are u pspspsps

[gaybroons]

I need to know everything there is to know about Morgan Rielly please he’s adorable

[revvethasmythh]

trying to find the physical copy of the book i'm currently listening to, and wishing i could have put an air tag on the damn thing. given the highly limited locations a simple book could be in in my home, you'd think i would be able to locate this one, but no apparently not

[charc-arts]

🐇Happy Bnuy Saturday!!🐇 Here's my piece for @/folkloretarot on twt centered around the Moon/Jade Rabbit from Asian (specifically, Chinese) folklore for the page of cups (Water)! You can catch this lil guy up on the moon making his elixir of life in our full KS proj!! :D

[milflewis]

actually the true daddy kink that lance and fernando will have. is not lance calling nando daddy. but nando calling him ‘son’ while lance is balls deep in the man

[litt1e-prince]

dw lmk fandom, im gonna convince my whole animation class at uni + all of my friends to watch lmk and be cringe with me

[hyunpic]

cant wait for hyunjin to come to bubble like hehe it’s out? *cutely*

[urmagicalgxrl]

i’m too broke to be looking at diamond jewelry but i can’t help myself omg.

[catonatrain]

hello everyone do YOU want to hear about my girl christelle?? do you want to possibly root for a very niche gal in a very niche series?? then is this essay for you !!

small disclaimer: i'm not caught up at all with the webnovel / webcomic that is the third wheel strikes back so i'll only be able to give an introduction !! (am manifesting twsb to come out of hiding so we can support our girl together)

anyways so chris here is Ham Ga-in... the protagonist of "I Quit My Job and Ended Up as a Noble Young Lady in Another World" and you may be wondering, doesn't that say "when the third wheel strikes back" up there? and you are absolutely correct !! when the third wheel strikes back is about a man (yeseo) who wakes up in the body of his his sister's favorite character in her favorite novel (jesse)-- and all he knows is that the character he is will eventually die and all the different tidbits of information he got from his sister when she infodumped to him and cried to him

not exactly isekai to my knowledge but rather transmigration !! being transported as an already existing character !!

in the original novel within a novel, ham ga-in / chris was a korean office worker who quit her job... because hey we've all been there am i right... and then one day she wakes up as christelle de sarnez, the daughter of a duke who's been in a coma for three years... who is to make her debut at the ball... who is to be engaged to the prince, cedric... though they're not always getting along... but alas there is also the prince jesse of the holy kingdom who is always kind to her... whatever will her heart decide?

[Image ID: Christelle in a blue dress holding her hands to her heart, framed by flowers, and she gazes at a smiling Jesse and a Cedric who is looking to the side. End ID]

anyways, that's no longer the case -- due to what i assume is yeseo also being transmigrated into the world, chris follows a different path than what's considered a typical fantasy romance (nothing wrong with that of course, but tswb!christelle is a delight and i love her immensely)

here is an image of christelle symbolically going on a path that was not expected to our protagonist yeseo... she is driving off who knows where and we are here to join her for the ride...

[Image ID: Christelle in a truck, smugly looking back at the audience as she holds onto a blue magic artifact. End ID]

now she is to become a holy knight !! using water magic !! fighting monsters !!

[Image ID: Christelle smiling as she holds onto a whip. She is framed by pink flowers. End ID]

look at her now !! quite honestly my favorite part are the pants... but she is ready !! ready to cause problems !!

anyways, thank you so much if you have gotten this far !! please consider voting for christelle and quite honestly checking out third wheel strikes back !! it's super fun !! hopefully we can learn more if christelle can keep going forward !!

Pink Hair Swag Tourney: Niche Edition , Round One , Part One

[007reid]

u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!

spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove

essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3

(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)

i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa

hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.

pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!

soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.

there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.

it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.

you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.

except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.

"y/n? y/n!"

now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.

“y/n?”

you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.

you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.

“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.

“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“

“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.

now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.

your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.

spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.

it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.

spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”

you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“

“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.

typical.

he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.

“you like toni morrison?”

“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"

“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.

“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.

spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.

spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.

yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.

"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."

you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.

spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.

to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.

the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.

"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.

"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.

"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"

spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.

“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“

spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.

“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”

“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.

“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”

you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”

“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?

“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.

spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."

“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”

“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”

“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”

spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.

but…

“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.

you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.

whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."

"you do that."

"remember to drink water."

"i will."

"do you need me to bring you more?"

"i'm okay."

"okay."

"okay."

the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.

you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.

"are you sure?"

i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."

"you have medicine right?"

you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.

"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."

"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."

"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."

"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.

he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.

maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3

[pitchcom]

OKAY f1 heathers au post starting NOW

heather chandler: fernando - cmon. look at fernando and tell me he doesnt have heather chandler energy. he is totally a mean girl and would be perf for this role

heather duke: carlos - he is supressed mean girl and im saying this as a carlos lover. he wants to put forth a perfect face until its publicly acceptable to be bitchy and charles is just the unfortunate bearer of that. i do think in this au he would be more passive aggressive mean then singing “kill yourself” mean but those are just little bits. i also think he has the capability to go mad with power

heather macnamara: charles - HONESTLY i think that he and carlos could be slightly interchangable based on your perception of them BUT i do think charles pulls off the innocent charmer look better so hes heather mac. but dont forget that heather mac is a heather for a REASON and she is also a shittalker so charles DOES have a mean bone in his body DONT BE FOOLED. charles here also plays into the macnamara/veronica angle bc he also has a bond with oscar

veronica sawyer: oscar - tbh i dont have a clear reason except it just feels right LOL like the narratives all line up … the carcar beef and the veronica/duke beef … the mcnamara/sawyer connection … loscar and martha/veronica …. i fear it all fits too well. also i think it would be funny for fernando to be a bitchy ghost haunting oscar for half the musical

JD: lando - this is mostly because hes been a menace lately and i DO believe he would be dramatic enough to blow up a school + fake their suicide note because someone broke up with him for killing 3 other people

martha dunnstock: logan - tragic unpopular bestie of the loser -> popular main character that gets hurt and left behind because of it. need i say more

ram & kurt: max/daniel OR pierre/esteban - no super strong reason for either of them except they are the two duos left on the grid that can give fboy but also hidden homoerotic relationship LMAOOO

mrs flemmings: lewis - sorry have u seen his whole peace love and plants front … he is so totally the teacher. tries to be pro mental health and diversity that it feels almost fake AND hes kinda unhinged with it. a case could be argued for seb but unfortunately i need him and mark to be oscars parenes LMAOOO

okay thats all for now folks 🫡 and if anyone ever makes any art of this …. pspspsps please feed it to me (tag me)

edit: PLS DROP ME ASKS IF U WANNA DISCUSS I CANT REPLY 🙏🙏

theres also another take on this thats vaguely developing in my head where its lewis + teammates = heathers with lewis, nico, and george being heathers and lestappen being jd/veronica BUT that needs to cook some more compared to this one LOL

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

carol wilson enjoyers pspspsps where are u at i need to speak to the carol wilson enjoyers council pspsps

[thatdeadaquarius]

LSKDJSKDKD IM GLAD I WAS BEING OF HELP IN ANY WAY :D

Kinda ask but also not :

What would you do if you were isekaid to genshin (in your different AUs: genz language, language barrier, blunt reader...)

Or if you got isekaid with one of your friend or follower(pspspsps me)

WE WOULD HAVE A FEILD DAY IN ALL OF THOSE LMFAO

So I have other ppls asks that r older than this but this'll be pretty short/its kinda not a request/ask? so ill go ahead and post this one first :) 💙

The ungodly amount of AUs I have now (my askers have?? I feel like yall made these tho):

FIRST OF ALL, IM ON MY FEET IN SECONDS- IF U RMEMBER ONE OF MY OLD ASKS WHERE I SAID "U will not be one of those isekai protagonists who dont know wtf is going on/wont accept what happen, esp when their lives depended on it"

I PARTIALLY SAID THAT BC THAT WILL BE ME

I AM AWARE. I AM COOL. I AM ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES.

any of these chaotic language AUs i am on my toes for goddamit

Im drawing pictures to communicate, im doin charades, any method i can if words dont work

.

IF ITS THE BLUNT AU I WOULD NEVER SHUT UP

It would just be too funny for me to be able to be quiet, im making ppl laugh im scaring ppl bc they think im an eldritch god

What a dream💖 *wistful sigh

Thats part of the reason i wrote about that AU bc i WOULD LOVE THAT ONE

YALL COMING WITH ME??!! :

We would quite possibly end the world

Im kinda but also kinda not joking

It would just be utter chaos

U my good fellow, seem to be hot on the uptake so i would assume we would make a gameplan pretty quick once we like too a second to

FREAK TF OUT WE IN GENSHIN

like, if it was just me i think Id just be excited for a few minutes

But if we both there??

Screaming, jumping up and down, i have taken ur hands and am spinning you LMAO

Hope no characters come by and see us bc we would be actin like Absolute Buffoons (even if u wouldnt normally be act like that in this situation i WOULD FORCE U TO JOIN AND GET HYPE)

Also 2 idiots r better than 1 idiot /lh

So if we put our heads together...

We might just get a braincell and make a sweet life for ourselves in Teyvat

(plus would help with homesickness + culture shock)

THANK U FOR THE UNHINGED IDEAS LOL

I think in any situation in Isekais, I would seem feral to all the other characters bc i would be doin shit like breaking Nahida out of her prison with fireworks lol

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds (sorry if this doesnt count! i figured it was close enough to sagau i might as well tag yall)

@karmawonders / @0rah-s lol ur own ask im doin it anyway LMAO / @randomnatics

[girlnextmorgue]

Helen Otis x Reader: You would sleep with me (if you could do it comfortably)

Hiiii everyone it's me I'm back :P I'm finding that I don't really agree with my past characterizations of these characters but I'm gonna leave my old posts up anyway... anyways here's a Helen oneshot I wrote last night. It's sort of a continuation of the first one I wrote (read that here) but can be read as a standalone. It's crossposted on AO3 (here) and I love getting kudos so please gas it up there if you so choose :P Reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns) and (Y/N) is used.. It isn't smutty or anything (sorry) but it's kind of romantic. Around 1300ish words (a little less). I hope you enjoy!

edit: pspspsps heyy look theres a 3rd part HERE!!! if u enjoy this go read that ok bye...

-

The screen door swung shut with a sharp smack. The sound used to make Helen jump, but he’d grown used to it with all the time he’d spent out on the porch. It was early spring now, and sprigs of green were beginning to poke their way out of the ground in the midst of all the brown. A chilly breeze carried all the fresh smells of spring, along with… cigarette smoke?

“Hey, handsome.”

That made Helen jump. His head snapped to his right, and he was graced with the sight of a familiar face leaning against the railing, lit cigarette in hand. The corners of his lips twitched. He was fighting back a smile.

“You’re back.” He said matter-of-factly, trying to seem uncaring, and not as if he had been awaiting their return with bated breath (god, he couldn’t believe it, he was acting like a damsel.) “Where were you?”

“If I told you,” they paused to take a drag (and, Helen suspected, to add dramatic effect), turning to look at the trees as they exhaled, “I’d have to kill you.”

Although there was a playful grin on their face, Helen knew that they were only half joking. The Operator’s proxies were incredibly hush-hush about their missions, and (Y/N) was no exception. Usually, he didn’t mind too much, but Helen had found that he was much more curious than he wanted to be, at least when it came to (Y/N).

“So.” (Y/N) spun around so that their back was now facing the woods. They motioned to the sketchbook in Helen’s hands. “Draw any pretty pictures lately?” They grinned.

Right. Helen had come out here to draw. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the book, averting his eyes. Since that fateful winter afternoon, he had been inspired to draw things other than the trees… (Y/N) in particular had become his unknowing muse. 

No way in hell was he showing them that. They’d probably think he was a creepy freak and never speak to him again. As much as Helen hated to admit it to himself, he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that happening. 

So instead, he fumbled for words, trying to save himself. “Uh, you know… more of the same, nothing new.” Helen refused to meet (Y/N)’s eyes. He chewed on the inside of his mouth nervously, picking at the edge of his sketchbook. He felt as if he was a child that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

(Y/N) pursed their lips and then sighed, seeming to decide not to press his buttons about it. Over the course of their blossoming friendship, they’d learned that Helen could be quite protective over his artwork. It was best to leave it be.

So, (Y/N) changed the subject, knowing that Helen wouldn’t do it on his own. “Why don’t we sit, hmm? I’m tired of standing. I feel like I’ve been standing for like, like forever, man.”

“Okay.” Helen said, his shoulders sagging in relief. (Y/N) stubbed their cigarette out on the railing before they moved to plop down on the porch steps, their hiking boots clunking against the stairs as they got situated. Helen took his usual place next to them.

The pair settled into a comfortable silence, just staring out at the wilderness. Helen’s sketchbook lay on the stair, untouched. He couldn’t bring himself to open it in front of them just yet.

Instead, he looked over at (Y/N), trying to remain discreet. Early on in their friendship, Helen had decided that he liked their face (purely from an artistic standpoint, he was sure) and so he had taken it upon himself to memorize it (again, purely for artistic reasons). Not much had changed about them since he’d last seen them. There was a bandaid on their cheek, sure, but other than that they were still the same (Y/N). 

Except, they looked so tired. Deep, dark circles rimmed their eyes, and their eyes themselves were completely bloodshot. Helen was all too familiar with this kind of tired, something he experienced after many sleepless nights sitting at his easel. He was shocked that (Y/N) was managing to stay awake in their state.

“Haven’t I told you that it’s rude to stare?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, startling Helen. They turned to him, cocking an eyebrow. Despite how exhausted they seemed, they were still alert as ever. A proxy trait, no doubt. “Do I have something on my face, orrrrr…”

“No, no…” He shook his head, looking forward again. He really wasn’t appreciating what the teasing lilt in their voice was doing to his brain and heart, but his concern for them seemed to outweigh that. God, he hated that he was concerned. What was wrong with him?

“Then what? You like what you see or somethin’?” (Y/N) leaned in expectantly, smirking. What an asshole.

Despite how close (Y/N) had gotten, Helen managed to look them in the eye (though he was practically holding his breath). “You look… tired, (Y/N). Really tired.”

(Y/N)’s smile softened, the mischief in their eyes fading. They moved back slightly, looking back out at the forest. 

“Are you… alright?” Helen asked hesitantly, brows furrowed in concern.

(Y/N) sighed, taking a moment to answer. “...Yeah, I’m fine.” They brought a hand up to their face, rubbing one of their eyes absently. “‘S just… you’re right. I’m way tired.”

“...I know.” Helen mumbled, gaze never leaving their face. His hands twitched in his lap, wanting to do something to comfort his weary friend. Instead, he asked, “Rough mission?”

“So rough, ugh.” (Y/N) laughed quietly, as if they were reminiscing about a happy memory. “I got into a crazy fight with this guy – man, he almost killed me. You should’ve seen him though, I messed him up.” 

Helen frowned. He knew that they shouldn’t be telling him these things, and he was not a fan of the idea of (Y/N) putting themselves in danger. It was a part of their job, sure, but in his heart he wished it didn’t have to be. 

“(Y/N)...” They perked up when he spoke their name and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. “I think you should go and get some rest.”

(Y/N) huffed, their expression going sour. “Yeah, but… I wanna-” they cut themselves off with a yawn before continuing, “I wanna spend time with you, y’know? It’s been a while. I missed you.” 

Helen felt like he was going to die at those words, his heart pounding against his ribcage. “Oh, well, um…” I missed you too, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

“I have an idea.” (Y/N) said suddenly, scootching toward Helen until their legs were touching and their shoulders were touching and oh god-

And then (Y/N) leaned their head on Helen’s shoulder and all he could smell was lavender shampoo and cigarette smoke and he was going to faint (but he didn’t). Their hair tickled his neck and they were so warm and Helen wished he could wrap his arms around them and pull them closer. Instead, he sat stiff as a board, breath caught in his throat.

(Y/N) either was too tired to notice or didn’t care. “Wake me up if something interesting happens, okay?” Was all they said before knocking out, snoring lightly (oh my god they snore).

They were definitely going to kill him.

[perfectlovevn]

How would the different Milo’s react if I pspspsps-at them like one would a cat?

Pre Milo would be pretty confused about the pspspsps noises and probably try to mimic you. He would stay confused until you explain it to him, which might lead him to get flustered depending on what you said.

"U-um, why are you making that noise? Should I make that noise too? Pspspsps.... Uh...am I doing that right?"

Manipulation Milo would start meowing and probably start acting like a cat and play along. He'd paw you, rub his face on you, probably attempt to sit in your lap, maybe knock something over. He might have cat ears on him and put them on.

"Hehe, did you like that~? Nyah? C'mon, you can rub my chin too if you really want~"

Violence Milo would be really excited because he'd think there's a cat nearby. He too would make pspspsps noises and look around for the cat. If you don't say anything, he'll probably try to look for a while, and then get pouty when he can't find it. He'd probably get embarrassed when he realizes that you were actually doing it at him.

"There's a cat!? Where? Here kitty kitty! Pspspspssps! Come here, come on! I won't bite, I promise!"

[obsolete-stars-if]

Pspspsps snippet, non spoiler, pspspsps join the discord server, Alia and Sascha snippet pspspsps (if u were wondering what Sascha meant that he has something else to do during ur wedding)

Her eyes flicker down towards the ceremony, the heir that she had spend time with, being wed with one of the most dangerous person from Riag. Their bond hopefully bringing both kingdoms into a new age of peace and trusting.

"A favor?" She asks back, not looking up.

Sascha leans against the railing, eyes fixed upon the pair down as well. "Do you trust me?" He answers.

She looks over, looking for something in his expression. "I trust all my friends." She doesn't look away when he turns to look at her. He doubts her. She knows, but she is not backing down.

"I need you now to find someone for me." He continues.

"And you think they're here?" She looks across the open room, maybe a few hundred people, nobles and peasants eagerly watching the ceremony.

"She wouldn't miss something like this, i know her."

Alia perks up and looks back to Sascha, "do I need to be worried?"

"No."

She nods, "What am I looking for?"

Sascha sighs, "I'm not entirely sure, just if someone seems off."

She looks across the room, Aso jumps over the railing, but she doesn't flinch as it starts sniffing everyone. She watches it closely, it looks up everytime another person seems not suspicious. It eventually sits down, bowing it's head once.

Alia sighs, "We can't seem to find anyone."

Saschas brow furrows and he grabs his hair to tug it lightly, "Maybe someone using magic? She might be hiding."

Alia turns again to the crowd. She closes her eyes and folds her hands into her usual praying position. She concentrates on her body, trying to find the ground underneath her feet, the wind in her hair, the warmth between her clasped hands. Her body doesn't move as she takes a step backwards, her body fading out.

As she opens her eyes, her body is in the praying position as before, Sascha is watching her body.

She steps around her own body, jumps over the railing and lands gently on the ground underneath. As she walks, she looks at everyone that she can, nobles and soldiers, peasants and workers, hard faces and soft edges. But none _feel_ out of place. She looks over to Aso, who has now started following her footsteps, sniffing the ground, trying to differentiate between all the different magic and spells that have recently entered and left the room. She takes a few steps towards the heir, away from the crowd, to get out of all this magic and feeling. She looks around and her gaze meets with another person. Not much taller than herself. The gaze is intense, Alia moves around, but the person doesn't break the eye contact.

Aso growling next to her, ready to jump, Alia places her hand against it's neck, "Don't."

The person moves their hand and points at themselves.

I

Then towards their eye.

See

Then towards Alia.

You.

Alia stumbles backwards. People shifting uncomfortably as she passes through them, eventually she meets the ground, she stares.

And so does the other person.

Her gaze snaps to Aso as it jumps. "Don't." Alia croaks out, and Aso fades in front of the person and reappears next to Alia. She looks towards the person, then towards Sascha, the person's gaze following Alias.

She crawls, stumbles, back up and her feet move towards the person.

The person's voice is quiet, not drawing attention. "During the next full moon, you will find me again." They say, before moving away.

"Wait, where will we find you?"

But there is no answer.

Alia exchanges a gaze with Aso, before turning back to look at Sascha, who is nervously watching the ceremony.

[cybernetic-organic]

though i dont consider myself robotkin, i still wanna meet fellow robots out there that are mostly non-humanoid looking :] this vessel feels a little left out in a community full of tv heads, cyborgs and androids [basically nonhuman lookin bots and programs and such out there plzplz int pspspsps]

anyways this is essentially a call into the abyss where i try to manifest the kins listed below to become this machines friend :]]]

therians

draconics

non-humanoid robotkins/machinekins

deitykin [unless u think ur an alr existing deity, srry were just rlly spiritual and it makes us uncomfortable]

angelkin

demonkin

fallen angelkin

OBJECTKINS AAAAAAA PSPSPSPSPS

anyways heres a list of my otherkin ids :]

domestic orange tabby cat therian

shire horse therian

wii console objectkin

unknown avian type [i have wings on my back tho]

waterkin !! [literally am just a large deep body of water]