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golden-barnes · 2 years

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Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't play favorites but Amaya is definitely his favorite, especially because her mom is hot.. Cue a 6-year-old trying to get Bucky to be her dad. {wc: 2.2k}

Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure but not that much, Karen parent being annoying, bucky is a fool but amaya is gonna fixed it.

a/n: I've been sitting on this for months but I had to step back from this account bc of everything. thankfully I finished this before my electricity went puff but not my best job. pls have mercy bc I'm rusty.

Part 2

Bucky knew there weren’t many male first-grade teachers. But honestly, it was his dream job. He was teaching the country's future and helping them become better people.

Also, 6-year-olds love him, especially with his fantasy land classroom he forced Steve to help decorate. Bucky loved being a teacher, and he loved his kids. Relatively easy to get up every day at 6 am when you love your job.

That being said, he knows he shouldn’t have a favorite student. So it’s basically written in the teacher’s rule book.

But Amaya was undoubtedly his favorite of his unruly kids. She was very spirited. Amaya loved helping out her classmates and talking to them. She was just the best student he had ever had.

She is amusing. Every day she comes to him with a story about her mom. Unfortunately, Bucky hadn't met her yet because she was busy with work. Still, he interacted with Amaya’s second contact, Natasha.

At this point, Bucky feels like he knows her. How she likes tulips. Her favorite color is pink, which is Amaya’s favorite, but that’s a funny coincidence. He knows that Amaya and her mom go to the museum every week on the day they have special events for kids. Amaya’s favorite exhibit is the one about mythical creatures.

“Momma likes the one with the paintings. She likes the one with the man who gives the girl a flower.” Amaya tells Bucky. Amaya always goes to Bucky’s desk after finishing her classwork because if she doesn’t, she distracts her classmates. Or give her classmates the answers, so this is the only way to keep her entertained. She always takes this time to draw something for Bucky to hang on his wall of drawings.

“Oh, Mister Bucky! Momma is going to come to pick me up today.” Bucky cursed mentally, completely forgetting today was parent-teacher conference.

Talking to 6-year-olds was a lot easier than talking to adults. Especially when you are telling parents that their kids are having problems. The worst part of the job, honestly. If Bucky could just teach his kids, send letters to the parents, and never interact with them, he would.

“Going to meet the elusive Miss (Y/N)?” Steve, his best friend, asked. Because of budget cuts, Steve was currently the art teacher for the entire school. Did he like it? Probably not having the kindergarteners put glitter in his hair, but he enjoyed a challenge.

“Apparently,” Bucky mumbled, opening his lunch. Just a ham and cheese sandwich because he was running late.

“She finally showing up to a conference?” Sam asked, heating up his lunch. Sam was the history teacher for the 4th and 5th graders. He was also a pain in Bucky’s ass, but he decided not to think about it and focused on his incoming stomach ache.

Fuck, now Bucky had to clean his classroom and prepare everything. What if one of those Karen parents shows up and starts complaining about stupid things? About how his classroom is Lord of the Rings theme and how that's bad for kids? Maybe about how he’s a male teacher? He is already spiraling.

“Oh, you are talking about Amaya’s mom? I met her when I was Amaya’s kindergarten teacher. She’s really nice and - “ Wanda started talking but was interrupted by her twin brother Pietro, the gym teacher.

“She is also smoking hot. Like ultimate Milf in this whole school. ” He comments, which makes Bucky feel even worse because how will he talk with a pretty girl? He hasn’t done that since college.

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother and sat down next to Steve to eat her lunch.

“You’ll be great though, Barnes. She’s really nice, and you are a great teacher, so you won’t have any problems with her.” Wanda reassures her coworker. Bucky takes a deep breath and takes another bite off his sandwich.

“And I still believe my son should be seated in the front.” Mrs. Robinson complained, which she had been doing for the past hour and a half. Going past the hour dialogue they are supposed to be having. But since Amaya’s mom is running late.

“Mrs. Robinson, I understand, but some kids in the classroom require specific accommodations. Because of that, the entire front row is taken. So I can’t sit Tommy in the front. “ Bucky explained for the 10th time. Mrs. Robinson just rolled her eyes and huffed.

Before she could complain again, someone knocked on the door. A woman in formal and professional clothing stepped into the classroom. Amaya popped into the classroom with the brightest smile.

“Mister Bucky! I brought Momma!” She screamed excitedly. Amaya’s mom tried to quiet her, but from Bucky’s experience, Amaya is impossible to corral.

“Well, Mrs. Robinson, my 4 o'clock is here.” Bucky said nervously, trying to politely kick out Mrs. Robinson and her big-ass attitude.

“We could discuss this further in another parent-teacher conference.” It took everything for Bucky not to roll his eyes. Fucking self-observed parents think their children are the only ones that matter, Bucky thinks to himself.

“Sorry for my tardiness; I got held up at work.” Amaya’s mom apologizes. Woah, she really is pretty, Bucky thinks.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” Bucky says, trying to catch his breath.

“Please call me (Y/N).” She smiled sweetly at Bucky. Bucky gulped.

“Let me get to the point; Amaya is a fantastic student. One of the best. She is above her group’s reading level. She writes pretty clearly for her age. No complaints from me; whatever you are doing at home is workin’.” Bucky explained, (Y/N) smiling at her daughter, who was too entertained with Bucky’s snowball on his desk.

“Thank you, but I can’t take that much credit. Maya absolutely adores you.” Bucky blushes at her praise.

“She’s a good kid; it’s easy to teach kids like her.” Bucky praised Amaya, who was surprisingly quiet. Which would scare Bucky because if there’s one thing he learned from teaching first graders is that quiet means trouble. But he dismissed it because she wouldn’t do anything wild with her mom right next to her.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for everything. With getting a new job and having to provide for my family, you’ve literally given me so much peace.” (Y/N) leaned in closer.

“If I am being honest, I was worried about ‘Maya’s performance at school. “ She whispered, but Bucky gave her a reassuring smile.

“Amaya, could you please give these papers to Mr. Rogers?” Amaya nodded and grabbed the papers Bucky had handed her. Then, Bucky sent a text to Steve telling him to keep Amaya out of his classroom to talk to her mom.

“I haven’t noticed a difference in her behavior if that makes you feel any better,” Bucky reassured her. She sighed.

“I am worried about her. Ever since she was born, her dad has been in and out of her life. Now he has disappeared for good. Amaya has been acting like it doesn’t bother her, but no first grader should hide their feelings.” She confesses. Bucky wants to do two things. 1) kick Amaya’s father for being a piece of shit and abandoning such a precious child and her mom. And 2) himself for getting excited by hearing that (Y/N) is single. He can already hear his mother chastising him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that (Y/N).” Bucky said earnestly. She just shook her head.

“It’s okay. Any advice for me?” She said in a joking tone, trying to alleviate the tension. Bucky lets out a nervous chuckle.

“Just keep being there. In my experience, being present and making the child feel like they have a support system is the best way to help them during this difficult time.” Bucky smiled at her.

“Thank you. See you on Monday?” (Y/N) said, getting up from her chair.

“Yes. Definitely.” Bucky felt his heart beating at a faster pace.

This school year was definitely going to be interesting. So Bucky thinks, watching Y/N walking out of his classroom.

What Bucky doesn’t know is that Amaya plans to make life more enjoyable. She was supposed to be sleeping, but she heard Auntie Tasha’s voice and decided to say hi.

“Nat, you could’ve warned me, you know!” (Y/N) explained. Natasha laughed, handing her best friend a glass of wine.

“He is hot, isn't he?” Natasha grins. Amaya looked at her mom, who had a goofy smile. She has never seen her mom with a smile like that.

“Ridiculously hot. And his eyes? Nat, his eyes are just so gray. I almost spilled my entire life story right there and then.” (Y/N) groans. Natasha just laughs.

“It should be illegal to have a first-grade teacher look that hot.” (Y/N) added, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Just wait till you see him in casual Fridays. That man looks excellent in a Henley. “ Natasha joked, but that seemed to disturb (Y/N) even more. “Look out ‘Maya you might have a new daddy.”

What auntie Tasha said made Amaya think. Mister Bucky was her favorite teacher, and she wished her momma would be happy. Them together would mean that she would have Mister Bucky around forever, and Momma would be happy and have a goofy smile like that forever.

That’s when Operation get Mr. Bucky and Momma together was born.

Every day after finishing her classwork, Amaya would go to Bucky’s desk and talk to him. Most of the things she said were little seeds to push him to get close to her mom.

Today was different; Amaya’s patience was thinning. A week passed, and every day when her mom would pick her up, she saw the googly eyes her mom and Mister Bucky were giving each other. It’s time for the big guns, Amaya thought.

“Mister Bucky, do you have a dad?” Buck was shocked at Amaya’s question.

“Yes, I do.” Amaya sighed dramatically after hearing Bucky’s answer.

“I don’t… I wish I knew what that was like.” Bucky’s heart broke hearing that. Amaya had her head down, but Bucky couldn’t see her smirk.

“You will one day. I promise.” Bucky knew he shouldn’t say that but wanted to uplift her and give her hope.

“Hey, Mister Bucky, maybe you could be my dad!” Amaya said, doing a complete 180 in her demeanor. Bucky almost spits out his coffee, and he starts to cough. But unfortunately, he fell right into Amaya’s trap.

“I don’t know about that, Amaya,” Amaya smirks.

“But Mister Bucky, momma already likes you. You would be a great dad.” Was it embarrassing for Bucky that his 6-year-old student was trying to hook him up with her mom? Maybe but hearing that said mom liked him did give him a bit of an ego.

“Really?” Amaya nodded enthusiastically.

“She said that she really likes your eyes.” Amaya admitted. Bucky knew he shouldn’t be asking these questions. If Sam knew, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Is there anything else she said?” Bucky asked, acting casually as if a 6-year-old was gonna read his body language. However, Amaya is too smart for her own good.

“I heard her telling Auntie Jen that she liked it when you wear red shirts.” Bucky made a note to buy more red shirts after school.

“Is your mom going to pick you up today?” Bucky asked; Amaya nodded.

“She said we were going to the mall today,” Amaya explained. She could feel her plan working, but who knows? Grown-ups were weird.

Bucky’s heart needs to catch a break. That being said, seeing (Y/N) every afternoon, his poor heart won't be getting any. Especially when she came in with her lawyer suits. It was like a punch in the gut.

But what really hit him like a punch in the gut was what Amaya said when her mom came to pick her up.

She grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him towards her mom, who was waiting outside the classroom.

“Momma, Bucky said he would be my daddy.” Amaya said with the biggest grin. Bucky choked on his own saliva and started coughing. While (Y/N) just started laughing.

“Did he now?” (Y/N) asked her daughter, that was excited that her plan “worked.”

“I- uhm. I didn’t say that she took it out of context. But, I mean- I” Bucky’s ramble was interrupted by (Y/N).

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes. I know how Amaya can be. Don’t worry.” Bucky sighed out of relief.

“Mommaaaaa…” Amaya whined; her mom just rolled her eyes.

“Yes, ‘Maya?” (Y/N) asked in a snarky tone. Amaya signaled to her to lean down. Amaya whispered something to her. (Y/N) giggled with her daughter.

“Mr. Barnes, would you like to go out for coffee someday?” (Y/N) asked, Amaya still giggling behind her mom.

“I would love to.” Bucky said, which caused Amaya to do a little victory dance in the back. As if nobody could see her. (Y/N) turned around and laughed at her daughter’s antics. She pulled something out of her jacket, a piece of paper.

“I have to go, Mr. Barnes. Sorry for my little troublemaker.”She said, handing him the piece of paper with her personal phone number. Bucky was confused.

“What is this for?” Bucky asked, utterly confused about what this meant.

“For whenever you would like to get that cup of coffee.” She told him, grabbing Amaya’s hand and walking towards his card.

Bucky felt his cheeks heat up. He might admit that Amaya was his favorite student, even if she played matchmaker.

He looked down at the card. Oh, he is gonna call.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #imagine bucky #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you

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calypso707 · 6 months

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Can I request a Druid tav x Astarion? Where over time and a ton of talks about it Astarion allows tav to try different ways to flatten his scars on his back? Different lotions/creams and massages? Not necessarily making them disappear but flattening them enough so their not as raised and angry.

That’s a good one, i hope you'll like it, it was a bit more challenging but I enjoyed writing it. I've done it differently, though. I preferred to write the first time they treat his scars. Please don't hesitate to send me feedback ! Enjoy ! (๑˘︶˘๑)

OS - Astarion x Gn druid reader : On your skin.

Since you were a child, you had always imagined that you'd spend your life in the Circle, at the service of nature and protecting the balance. But recent events had completely turned your life upside down: your kidnapping by mind flayers, the crash of their nautiloid, the victory over the goblins… Not to mention the roommate you had in your skull. And these events, however improbable, had driven you to create the strangest alliances.

Your favorite time of day was when you returned to your camp in the Wilderness. You enjoyed the calm that settles all around you as soon as night fell, you liked to hear the wood creak under the fire, you loved to gaze up at the sky as if to interpret the messages left by the stars, you even caught yourself listening for the animals prowling nearby. Oak Father, you loved those quiet moments. You knelt at the edge of the shore, not far from your tent, your eyes closed and your breathing stilled to the rhythm of the waves undulating in the wind. You allowed your mind to wander, you were surrounded by strange companions and you had permitted your heart to fall in with the most unusual being of all.

Astarion.

A vampire.

If your Circle were to find out… For many, vampires were an abomination of nature, but for you, he was just a magistrate with immoral tendencies and a liking for blood. You did not know if the feeling was mutual, and you did not particularly want to find out. Astarion cherished his freedom and it was just as meaningful to you. He had spent much of his spawn life in the service of a cruel lord who had submitted him to all kinds of vices. You thought back to the inscriptions carved into the flesh of his back and how he must have suffered.

A throat-clearing sounded above you and you opened your eyes. Speaking of the devil.. You did not even hear him coming. Astarion was standing in front of you, looking… Unsure?

"I've been thinking about what you said. About my… Scars."

You stood up to face him properly, inviting him with a nod to continue.

"I would like you to treat them to make them less, well.. Noticeable," he added. "They do not, of course, affect my beauty, but if you could make them more pleasing to the eye, I would not say no."

You rolled your eyes at his words. The two of you had discussed this several times. You simply offered to help, you had no wish to erase them because they were part of him. You just wanted to make them less sensitive so you were waiting for him to give you permission. "All right, I will take care of it. Let's go to my tent, so we can have some privacy"

You gestured for him to follow you, which he surprisingly did without protesting. You entered the tent, which was large enough for just one person. On the right was your paillasse, surrounded by books of various subjects. On the left, a huge solid wood table held all your herbs, elixirs, ointments and recipes. You invited him to sit on a wooden stool beside you.

"Let me have a look"

Astarion seemed to hesitate for a moment and finally removed his shirt before tossing it onto your bed. He seemed almost… uncomfortable. Yet it was not the first time you had seen him half-naked. You stood behind him and slowly brought your fingers to his scarred skin.

"May I?"

"Yes," He replied in a breath, his unease was palpable. He seemed vulnerable.

You gently ran your fingers over his upper back, cautiously brushing his scars. You felt him flinch slightly at the warmth of your skin, which contrasted with the coldness of his. It was the first time you had seen them so closely. The Language of the Hells had been carved into his flesh two centuries ago, and you could still guess the pain he must have felt. According to him, it was a poem, a very strange poem. The cruelty of the act made your heart ache and your stomach twist. How could he have survived such pain?

"It was a surprise. As you can see, Cazador's surprises are never good ones," commented Astarion.

You looked up at the mirror in front of you, and although his reflection was not visible, you could see you touching his invisible skin as delicately as possible, his face was turned to the mirror, examining your every move. You detached yourself to search through your ointments and took one you had prepared earlier. It was a derivative of Silvanus' elixir, based on boiling theriac and mugwort bundle. Returning to stand behind him, you took a generous quantity of the mixture with your fingers before applying it delicately to the marks. Astarion twitched again, looking over his shoulder at you.

"I am sorry" You said.

"No, it is cold. But it feels… Nice"

You slowly knelt behind him and carefully applied the ointment, making sure his skin properly absorbed the treatment. The effect was almost instantaneous, and the scars seemed less vivid to the naked eye. It would take several applications for it to be fully effective. You ran your fingers along the long lines that ended at the lower part of his back and noticed that a shiver ran through his body. This moment was different from the others you had shared, even more intimate because he had allowed you to get closer to that part of his past he hated. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of you.

"Do you feel any difference?" you asked, looking up at him as he swiveled on the stool to face you. You wiped your fingers on a clean cloth.

"Hm.." He made a move as if trying to stretch his skin. He seemed a bit surprised. "I used to feel them, itching. I no longer feel that discomfort"

"It will require repeated application for it to be more effective, but it is a good start"

"Oh, are you offering me private sessions for massages?" questioned the vampire, a mischievous smile on his lips.

You smiled at his question and, as you stood up, he grabbed your arm to pull you towards him. He wrapped his right arm around your waist and his left hand slid down your forearm. This embrace took you by surprise, but you did not push him away, on the contrary. He took your hand in his and brought your fingers to his lips, softly. He half-opened his mouth as he slid your index and middle finger over his lower lip, revealing his fangs. A shiver of excitement ran through your body.

"It means a lot, you know, what you do for me. I will never forget it."

⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯ ⎯

I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to have a look at my other writings on Astarion ! Love ya !

Astarion x gn druid reader : On your skin (pt.2)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

#romance #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion vampire #astarion x gn reader #baldur's gate iii #baulders gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion ancunin #astarion my beloved

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mechanicalpiper · 2 months

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Hi yes sorry for the wait, procrastination hit hard, but here's another snippet

First prompt done! "The Hero had just come back from an absolutely brutal training session and was exhausted and jelly limbed, only for the Villain to stumble onto them! We all know Villan couldn't help themselves with such a treat!"

I wasn't too proud of this one at first but it looped around to being one of my favorites so far :3

cw, as usual: suggestive and (sorta) kidnapping

Snippet #5

Hero was panting from exhaustion as they walked home in the dead of night.

They'd finally finished up one of their most rigorous training sessions yet- it was well past midnight by now, and they'd started before noon- and were absolutely, utterly exhausted from the ordeal, especially now that the adrenaline had worn off. Their face was still red, their throat sore and their breathing heavy; they were tired to the point that even walking all the way home was a bit of a challenge...

"...Awww~"

The Hero's heartbeat spiked.

They whipped around with a squeak of surprise, throwing a panicked punch at the general area behind them in a brief panic.

Hero's arm stopped midway, their forearm grabbed to stop it before the punch could follow through.

Hero froze. As their conscious thought came back into play, they slowly looked up to see the figure still holding their arm in place. It was impossible to make out many details in the dark, but as their gaze trailed up to fully see the face of the figure, an intense, warm shiver went down their spine.

They saw the eyes staring back down at them. Bright red, with the signature, precise, terrifying glow that made them cleanly cut through the darkness like a spider looking down on its prey. A gaze Hero was all too familiar with.

Villain's.

"Now, what do we have here~?" Villain teased, gaze piercing the exhausted Hero. They tried to pull away in defiance but were caught off guard by Villain's other hand slipping under their chin, gently tilting their head to look back up at them.

"You look exhausted, sweetie~"

Hero felt their cheeks warm up. They were already pretty warm, sure, but this wasn't exhaustion making them flare up again.

...Fuck.

They knew full well what the fuzzy feeling in their chest was. It wasn't exactly a new experience, either; really, almost anything relating to the Villain got that reaction out of Hero. It wasn't news by now.

...But here, it was coming in full force, and they were in the prime position for Villain to notice it. They were panicking.

It somehow never really occurred to them that Villain's teasing wasn't for the sake of intimidation.

"I've never seen you put up so little of a fight~! Finally learning your place?" Villain taunted further, their expression satisfied as they looked down at the defenseless Hero.

"Wh- th- I, uh, well- NO, absolutely not!" snapped Hero, finally managing to get out something coherent.

"Awww, always so feisty~" Villain hummed in response, moving their face a closer to the defiant Hero. They were so precious like this! It was so rare to see them at their mercy, and they looked so damn cute...

Hero's blush was running full force. Being under Villain's gaze at all was flustering, but the teasing, the warmth of their touch, the fact they couldn't fight back right now...

Before either of them knew it, they had fallen into a mutual kiss.

Neither really knew how it happened- they both simultaneously found themself in the same position of locking lips with their nemesis.

They simultaneously flinched back in a startle, breaking the kiss rather abruptly and awkwardly. Neither said anything, but they remained looking at one another, mildly bewildered expressions on both of their faces as they tried to process what exactly just happened.

They just kissed.

It took them both a while to process this. They weren't in disbelief at the concept- they were both in shock that it actually just happened.

Now that it had, neither had any doubts in their mind.

Villain looked back over the flustered Hero, delighting in the way their pretty face showed both satisfaction and embarrassment, adoring the way they squirmed seeing their rival tower over them no longer in a perceived aggressive way, but rather a... possessive one.

"...Well, there's no way in hell I'm passing up such an easy little captive~"

Hero had never felt so excited.

#heroes and villains #writeblr #writing snippet #creative writing #suggestive #villain x hero #hero x villain #heroxvillain #writing

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snowy-vee · 2 months

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ALL MINE (5) Re-Done. MUST READ AGAIN

CHECK MY PINNED POST!

DAILY CLICK!!!!

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE JUST BECAUSE THE STRIKE IS OVER! NOBODY WILL BE FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE!

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

INDEX

n/a: I'VE CHANGED THINGS AND I MIGHT'VE FOUND INSPIRATION after watching 'You' again, if my narrative seems like Joe's, so sorry, I am obsessed with the man. BARE WITH ME, much shorter chapter then the one before

You were running, feeling the sweat drops sliding down your face. Your legs felt tired, but you knew that if you stopped now, you’d likely collapse on the ground. Still, you kept increasing the speed on the treadmill, wanting to challenge yourself more.

“Are you done? We need to talk.” Jesse was beside you on another treadmill, but he was still, just leaning against it, watching you. You stopped the machine, gradually reducing the speed.

“I hope this isn’t bad news. I’ve had to put up with a lot from those two this week; I don’t plan on hearing from you that everything’s going wrong now,” you said before starting to drink water to hydrate your dry throat. The truth was, you had started frequenting the campus gym much more than before because it was unbearable to hear Ellie talk about Dina or see Ellie and Dina acting cute in the apartment.

Acting like it didn’t bother you was becoming a very difficult task, and there were times when you would simply cut Ellie off mid-conversation and lock yourself in your room. The next day, you’d have to lie about something. You couldn’t bear the thought that the small plan you had with Jesse would fail. You had been helping him with things like knowing where Dina was at any given time, if she was excited about some new show, if she had any other favorite candies, or to keep Ellie busy so he could have some alone time with Dina.

While Dina’s visits had been decreasing, you still saw her around the house. That wasn’t enough for you; she had to disappear from your lives.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe you should participate more too.”

“I already do. It’s not easy keeping them away.”

“No, I mean you should start seducing Ellie,” you frowned at his words, confused about what he meant. “I can win Dina back, but likewise, Ellie could give it a shot, as both are currently single and Ellie’s interest lies solely with Dina, I think.”

You nodded slowly, seeing the point of his words. You hadn’t thought about also having Ellie eating out of your hand; she had to desire you as much as you did her.

“Well, Ellie and I are going to my vacation home next weekend for Spring Break. I can try something there; we’ll be alone for two days before my family arrives.”

“I know. I have a date with Dina that and this weekend.”

“A date?”

“Well, she’s coming to my house to help me study,” Jesse clarified, handing you your bag. “Keep me informed if anything changes between you and Ellie.”

“The same goes for you” you grabbed your bag and waved him goodbye as you left the gym.

Whistling, you went through your phone, swiping insta stories ¡Bingo! They were on a date in some place so you had the house by yourself for maybe a couple hours. The bus took it’s time to arrive but the trip to the apartment was quick.

You were going to shower, sleep and maybe fantasize a little bit. You could wake up on a Saturday morning and start scheming from the very first ray of sunlight.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

And you did. Your whole week revolve around Ellie and being in her space more than anything, pleasing her, hanging out with her, making excuses just to have her by your side.

“I just need some help to prepare things for the trip” you would say declining the call of Dina on her phone while she was in the shower “I want to have a great time, I’m so tired of studying all my free time”

“I can help, yeah” Her voice sounded a little muffled because of the water running, you were mesmerized looking at her figure, at least, the shadow. “I just have to let Dina know, we’ve made plans, maybe you can tag along?”

You? Tag along? Why did it had to be you the one tagging along and not Dina? You huffed in annoyance.

“Can you pass me my towel?”

“You could always get it yourself, I’ve seen you naked before”

“I don’t want to wet the floor!” The water stop running and she popped he head and her arm, waving it so you could give her the towel. You were fast to leave the phone where she left it before, you threw the towel at her.

Sighs left your dry mouth as you remember. It’s been hard this week, so hard to balance cheer practice, studies, keep Ellie around, keep Ellie’s phone close, keep Jesse informed, keep Dina away, make Jesse inform you, stay pretty, stay consistent, don’t stop the motion.

The Friday morning, you were in the library, first time of the week that you actually spent time alone. Not fully since you met Jesse at first to talk about them and after collecting and exchanging information you went to the furthest table to study and concentrate in your work.

Now you were gathering your books and laptop because Ellie had sent you a message saying she was going home already, that she was going to pick you up, that you should be ready. You saw her at the door, but she wasn’t alone and seemed to be arguing with the other person.

With every step you took, you could see more of the other person’s face, it was Dina. They both fell silent the moment you opened the door and greeted them, Dina looked you up and down and turned her attention back to Ellie “Please don’t stop talking to me this week, we’re both angry about different things and it’s best if we calm down and talk another time”.

And with that she walked into the library bumping your shoulder on purpose, you opened your mouth offended and turned to Ellie “What is her problem with me? Just know that I’m holding back because it’s your something, but otherwise…”

“I don’t even know if we’re still a thing” she muttered grabbing your backpack and starting to walk “Come on, we need to pack our bags for the Easter trip.”

You nodded looking inside the library as Dina and Jesse seemed to be studying together while laughing, you couldn’t be happier. The plan was working, but it wouldn’t be complete until Ellie and Dina broke up completely.

When you got home, you went into your room and saw that your bed was full of clothes and your travel bag was almost full. You sighed as you got down to work and finished packing your bag and cleaning your room, once you finished you went into Ellie’s room only to find her lying on top of the pile of clothes. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be out of here in less than two hours and I remind you that you’re supposed to drive there.”

“I don’t even know what to put in.”

“Ellie, you’re like an NPC, you always wear the same clothes, just put three pairs of trousers, five shirts, one pair of pyjamas and two swimming trunks, we’ll swap clothes if we have to.”

“I’ll pass, how about I stay here? I wouldn’t want to spoil your holiday with your family.”

“No way, you’re family too, my mother loves you as if you were her daughter, I’ll help you!”

‘Like a daugther soon to be in law’ you thought, pushing her to the edge of the bed and starting to look through her clothes to see what she could and couldn’t wear. It didn’t take long and Ellie took the opportunity to clean her room and prepare some snacks for mid-trip.

Soon you were both changed into comfortable clothes and inside the car ready for the journey. Oh, what a trip this one was going to be ¿Ellie and Dina upset with each other? The cream decorating the cupcake ¿You maintaining her occupied so she could barely have time to check on her phone and lose contact with Dina while Jesse did his thing? Cherry on TOP.

taglist;; @boobdrug @lovelyxbaby @pedropascalsbbg@cherryimaa @yumimak @amberputh @cattjull @carylinflors @ghostlyfangs @teawithnosugar @azxulaa @elliesexual @gato-chino @divinesdior @yumimak @abbystoy @gosomewjere @isitadinosaur @sourgummywormsss @rhehhwfehwfqd @bubblymilktee @mulan-but-gay @liasxeatt @lookforthelight1 @slynxs @doveocean @onlinelesbo @cinematicdilfs @icedsimpsayo @mikellie @angelicagellyka @hopeless-y @abbystoy

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voxofthevoid · 3 months

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April Anniversary Final List

I've compiled the 15 fics/ideas you guys picked in response to this post into a detailed list (under the cut). The numbers (51, 43, etc.) are now obsolete because I've added another idea to the list—yes, the total is 94 now, 77 untouched—and plan to keep doing it, which will alter the numbers owing to the way they're organized by ship(s). The doc will stay publicly available (...though I should really go through it and fix all the typos and errors).

Like I said in the OG post, I want to write a scene of approximately 1k for each of these. That's easy enough, usually, but I also want these to be coherent, standalone scenes—connected to the overall fic 'verse, yes, but a self-contained short story nonetheless. And we all know that's not my forte. So, yeah, it's gonna be a hell of a challenge.

These WIPs are not getting struck from my list once I'm done though. I'll be poking at them later, the way I do now—one at a time, until I'm out of the fandom.

Also, the usual disclaimer: If health/IRL fuckery pops up, I'll postpone or cancel the project. Hoping that won't happen, but you never know.

#1. 51 @nearalways

Canonverse pet play featuring a developing relationship, in which Yuuji jokingly says Gojou’s like a puppy and Gojou takes it and runs with it. Yuuji discovers the dubious joys of pet ownership.

#2. 43 @naeldeus

Satoru and her bigass tits single-handedly turn Yuuji from an ass woman into a chest woman, and Satoru’s reaction to Yuuji staring at her tits is to basically smother Yuuji in them in the guise of a hug. It escalates predictably.

#3. 31 @fluffys-nightmare

Yuuji makes a binding vow with the Angel to let her kill him and Sukuna after Gojou’s unsealed, except it doesn’t go as planned and the end result is Yuuji and Sukuna completely merged.

#4. 55 @laughing-sock

A curse user’s failed technique leaves Yuuji with a plush-like replica of Gojou, which Gojou lets him keep. It’s harmless until Yuuji accidentally activates a connection between the doll and Gojou.

#5. 36 (anon)

Sukuna kills the Angel so they can’t unseal Gojou. Teen!Gojou drops into the timeline and retrieves the PR, but they can’t open it. Yuuji has complicated emotional sex with teen!Gojou and spends every spare hour gazing plaintively at the PR. Teen!Gojou is in it mostly for the sex at first, except that doesn’t last.

#6. 45 (anon)

Post-canon where defeating Sukuna still leaves Yuuji with all his loved ones dead. He’s trying to busy himself by helping rebuild society when a new 6E+Limitless user is born, named “Satoru” to honor the last one, and a few years later, the Gojou clan asks for him to be the kid’s bodyguard.

#7. 71 (anon)

Gojou dubcons Megumi in his dorm room while mocking him about his crush on Yuuji, and when Yuuji bursts in after hearing concerning noises, Gojou offers Megumi to him.

#8. 67 @yaoshifollower

Canonverse breakup-makeup AU in a no-Shibuya context, spanning the time from Yuuji’s first year to his early-mid twenties. The sukuita parts are hatesex culminating in cannibalism; goyuu is the endgame.

#9. 03 @lo-55

Gojou tries to seduce Yuuji by rapebaiting him—sleeping on and near him in provocative clothing. Yuuji resists until he doesn’t.

#10. 73 (anon)

Yuuji semi-accidentally seduces Higuruma after their fight in the Culling Games, and during the one-month time skip after Gojou’s unsealed, he manages to semi-accidentally romance both men to the point of inevitable heartache.

#11. 74 @kubo-chan

Pre-canon where Kenjaku pays their favorite child a few in-person visits, finds that Yuuji’s body is rejecting Sukuna’s fingers, and lets their scientific curiosity run a little wilder than usual. Years later, Gojou finds Yuuji while investigating unusual curse activity.

#12. 08 @cunt-recesses

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/alpha where 20-something Gojou adopts Yuuji, who was being raised by a Sukuna-focused cult.

#13. 50 @zalondra

Omegaverse-canonverse alpha/alpha where becoming Sukuna’s vessel triggers Yuuji’s rut early, a couple of days after he’s accepted into Jujutsu Tech, and since the higher-ups aren’t willing to risk Sukuna’s vessel losing control during that hormonal mess, Gojou volunteers to help him through it.

#14. 42 (anon)

Someone makes the mistake of letting Gojou teach sex-ed to the first-years. It’s a pretty typical class for Nobara and Megumi, but Yuuji's living a different porn scenario every week.

#15. 24 (anon)

Sukuna–Yuuji role reversal where Yuuji’s more interested in his vessel’s teacher than the vessel himself, and Gojou gets too much of a thrill from playing with fire.

#vox unhinged #i've picked the scenes for each one #will probably start in march #alongside the shibuya swap

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ribbonetteart · 4 months

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Tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time + the franchise that has me in a death grip 💖

a bit late for Christmas but at least Valentine's day is around the corner ^^;;

Process below if that interests you:

AS I SAID EARLIER, I had been working on this piece as early as December of 2021 😱!!!

This was the original sketch! I was inspired after learning about Blaze's own design inspiration coming from Takarazuka theater, as well as it being the Nutcracker season so this film was in bouncing around in my head.

and this was allllll the way back in 2021 ^^; I had put the idea to paper to capture the image in my head immediately. But the idea in my head was extravagant and beautiful and would certainly take time to complete, as well as the patience and skill to work with watercolor 😔 I've certainly done my share of watercolor, both physical and digital, but I still feel like my physical watercolor work is a fluke, and I was still a novice digital artist at the time of this sketch.

In short, I was confident my skill could live up to the vision.

So I would put this on the back burner. It wouldn't be ready in time for Christmas, and I could use this as an opportunity to hone that digital art experience so it could be ready next year!

2 Years Later...

It's December 5th. Fuck it. Let's crack this open again, I tell myself.

SO starting with the line art, it's actually 2 different brushes layered over one another.

I also changed Sonic's expression to be more love struck-looking, because I'm a sucker for romance.

The image on the left is a watercolor line brush, while the right is a pencil brush. The reason I wanted a water color look was because I thought it would make the illustration look dreamy and fantastical, and I wanted that to extend to the line art as well. However, my usual lines on traditional usually veer more towards thick and cartoony from years of studying the Sonic art style, so I really felt like I was working against myself here. I had also asked friends for their input and they preferred the lines on the right as well. If my followers actually do read these blog posts, I'd love if you could comment which line art style you prefer drawing or looking at.

The happy medium was to just combine the 2. Here's a better look at that:

I like it! I think it combines the solid line with the rustic water color grain. Best of both worlds :]

For the actual painting, The most notable thing I can say is that getting the right pastel-y color was VERY difficult to achieve for someone like me who often loves to use bright and saturated colors in her art. I feel like I really set myself up to do one of those "evil art style" or "opposite art style" challenges I've been seeing around. I had to repaint Sonic at one paint because the blue of his fur was WAY too saturated for the style I was going for:

I started with painting Sonic and Blaze in first and then working on the background. I think that's probably the backwards way of doing it but one of the perks of digital art is you can do stuff any order you want when you have layers.

The background wasn't actually as difficult as I thought it would be. I wasn't going for any difficult perspective, and I was using a reference so that could be it. I'm usually averse to backgrounds but I really wanna tackle more of my weak points in art. I actually had way more fun than I was expecting, painting the sky and adding texture to the grass. I think I had the most fun rendering the water coming from the fountain (which you can't even see too well anyway, lol).

Funny enough, I had just about finished painting the characters and background by early January. So why am I posting this in February?

The Flowers...

In case you don't know. I love flowers. I love looking at them, I love learning about flower languages, I love drawing them. so seeing that my reference image showed flowers circling the fountain, I was excited! I was already having more fun than I expected to be, working against my usual style, rendering a background, so how could this be a pain in the ass?

Well, I am my own worst enemy 😞I couldn't exactly identify each flower offhand from this screenshot alone. The texture of the flowers is kinda grainy, since I don't think the animators were expecting viewers to look too closely at the set piece to use as reference for my lovingly crafted crossover fanart. If anyone has this in high quality though, please tell me.

(I think I actually got this reference from a tumblr post but I can't find it on my blog for the life of me nor can I find it in the tags I'm so sorry)

I'm a huge stickler for details so I really wanted to be as "accurate" as possible in my illustration. I can hardly identify some of these flowers with confidence. I think there are roses in there? or tulips? I'm not sure if those yellow flowers are roses or some kinda petunia or if I'm way off.

I'm sure these details won't matter to most viewers but it was EATING AWAY AT ME. Eventually I decided to try drawing in flowers that might look similar to the ones in the reference. Or some based on their flower languages. I was certainly overthinking it ;;;; It led me to going "fuck it" and just throwing in whatever I wanted. There are no irises visible in that screenshot but I made it the centerpiece of the flower ring. Who give a shit.

I made some guides for me to follow: The blue ring was so I could make sure the flowers make a half circular border around Sonic and Blaze. I was envisioning how it could look as like an icon or sticker or something, which is why it's framed this way. then the second guide is the sketch of the flowers I made. I always do line art and I'm not great at just improvising with color to paper, or color to screen in this case.

The rest of this process is then just working on each flower piece by piece (with the help of the mirror tool of course) with varying degrees of detail. Some flowers are more abstract than others, and I had debated if that would look jarring and disrupted any kind of harmony I was trying to maintain with the style parameters I set for myself. And then I decided I was overthinking it once again which is why this was taking me nearly 2 months to complete.

At some point during this process, my wifi went out for a whole week! Of course, I could still work on this illustration offline, but I had a lot of tabs open with a bunch of reference images on there (plus I like to listen to music while I draw otherwise I lose focus and I had neglected to download a varied selection on my phone or laptop 😭 Learn from my mistakes).

The most tedious of this process was making each set of gladioluses a unique color.

Was it worth it? You tell me! I think they're pretty, at least.

Along the way, I repainted the grass because it wasn't symmetrical (It didn't need to be but I had been using the mirror tool for a lot at this point and it was bugging me). I made other little final adjustments, like color adjusting the leaves on the flowers, lowering the flower ring border, and so on.

Ultimately, I'm extremely satisfied with the final product. I had my heart set on doing something like this for a long time. I had so much fun just experimenting throwing on color or not worrying about technical stuff. Of course, I did do what I usually do and overthink it at some points, but I'm working on it!

I've wanted to do an extremely indulgent AU illustration and other drawings for a Sonic x The Nutcracker story for a long while. I will be totally honest, I'm still a little embarrassed to share stuff like this, even after years of posting fan art online. It feels like the more self indulgent something is, the more people might judge me for it ^^; But I wanna practice what I preach and kill the thing inside me that cringes at my harmless attempts at joy and whimsy.

I would love to do some more drawings for this AU, but maybe post them around December when it would be more seasonally appropriate. I hope you'll stick around for it!

If you read this whole thing to the end, thank you. Whether you follow my blog or not, I hope you have a lovely day :3💝

#Barbie in the Nutcracker #Sonic the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #Sonaze #Jess's Digital Odyssey #Sorry for not posting frequently it may happen again

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 6 months

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If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You)

First posted: January 25, 2019

Focuses on: Jason Todd and his various siblings

Favorite bookmark: "A variety of permutations and flavors of Robin h/c featuring Jason! The Baskin Robins of BatFam h/c, if you will."

Second favorite bookmark: "and so, step by step, the prodigal stray coaxes himself home."

Tier: #3 in hits & kudos & subscriptions, #4 in comment threads, #2 in bookmarks

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Individual chapter notations below the cuts.

Chapter One

First, to note, the title came last and is from "Hey Brother" by Avicii because it was already on my BatFam playlist and gave me strong sibling feels, so it worked!

Okay if I remember correctly, this fic came about because 1) I had jotted down story ideas, all surrounding Jason, that were all just a bit too similar for me to feel comfortable doing them as one-offs, and 2) it was late 2018 when I start writing so I was deep in 5+1 IronDad fics.

This fic was so deeply indulgent from start to finish, which I think might be why people liked it so much? Like, if you're into the tropes into this fic, you're really into them. It scratches the itch just right, because it's my itch and I wrote it for me.

The plan was to do like I did for my other multi-chapter fics (except Nature and Nurture, RIP me) and write it all out before posting anything, so I could be sure that I would actually finish. I don't have that kind of self-restraint anymore. But it was a fun challenge to figure out what should happen to whom and in what order.

Jason didn’t sleep much anymore. He’d always been a rough sleeper, his years spent in low-security public housing and then on the street grinding away at his ability to rest with ease. He slept lightly, his consciousness skimming just below the surface, ready to spring awake at the softest noise.

As I've said before, sometimes I have an idea for a fic but then, when trying to start it, a sentence pops up immediately as my opener. That's always a wild ride because sometimes it seems to have nothing at all to do with where I want to go, so then I have to backtrack and figure out but why tho????

Moving to the Manor had helped some, after he’d assured himself that no one was going to scratch at his door or steal his shoes. The cold mornings had been the best, spent curled under a mound of the softest blankets imaginable atop a mattress so perfectly contoured to his bones that it’d felt like floating on the surface of a pool. He’d slept, truly slept, at the Manor.

I like the idea of, even at Jason's most toxic and vitriolic, the Manor itself still representing safety and comfort. Maybe sometimes he would twist it into stifling or grossly indulgent, but I think deep in his stomach he would know that distortion was a lie. The Manor was safer than anywhere else, even with his mom.

Those days of rest were long gone. The Pit had done a number on his brain—intensifying and altering his emotions, erasing some old habits and dialing up others, leaving dark chasms where memories should be.

I've seen other fics play with the idea of the trauma of Jason's injuries, death, resurrection, and the Pit all combining to some degree or another to swiss-cheese his brain (a phrase I lovingly borrow from Quantum Leap.) And that of course leaves a bunch of really fun room to play with—how much does Jason know he's missing vs. how much is gone or totally distorted without him even being aware? (Again, another thing I tease out in various fics like N&N.)

It was like someone had jammed a stick in his skull and given his brain a good stir. Or maybe that was just the crowbar. Ha.

I made myself snicker with that one. It's so voiceily Jason but also that ha is so guttural and specific in my head, you all will never know.

He was making progress with his budding criminal empire—splashy progress, as displayed on the crusting cuffs of his sleeves and the splattered toes of his boots, but also more subtle progress, too. The subtle form was harder, so much harder, but he knew its changes would be more permanent, in the long run. Splashy got people talking. Subtle got them bowing.

Jason! Todd! Is! No! Thug! He is smart and cunning and uses violence to make an impact and that's that on that.

And though he’d heard her speak before in the careful neutral of the middle-class, the sounds being beat out of her now were Crime Alley crooked.

I like the idea of Steph and Jason growing up in the same neighborhood. It's not a hill I'd die on, but it makes for some interesting fic.

The girl put up a good fight. She was rough, no finesse, no real training. All knuckles and elbows and feet and knees. He spotted some of the Bat basics pop up in the way she ducked and spun, but she wasn’t lithe like Nightwing or crafty like the Replacement. She was a brawler. And she was losing.

She is who he might have been, without Bruce and Alfred and Dick. A decent fighter, stubborn, willing to brawl it out, but ultimately destined to lose.

It sucked in an abstract way, the way it sucked that someone was going hungry halfway around the world, the way it sucked when a stranger missed his bus. It sucked, but it wasn’t Jason’s problem, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care. B needed to learn to pick up his toys.

Starting with Steph made the most sense to me. She wasn't (and isn't) a member I know super well, with so much of her canon backstory being things I have no interest in, and she's part of the Family but in that awkward "we're maybe siblings but also I have a mom and also I dated one of you too??" ways, so she's got a little bit of distance, for me as a writer and also Jason. She doesn't have the emotional heat of the others. He doesn't hate her, just what she represents. He also doesn't care what happens to her, except—

The knife glinted in the amber streetlight and cast a shadow across the yellow emblem on her chest.

She's not Batman. She's not a Robin. She's Batgirl. And that's a different thing entirely.

Jason knew what they saw when they looked at him. He was big now, broad-shouldered and massive in a way he had only ever dreamed of being as a scrawny, malnourished street kid. His helmet was blood-red and gleaming, its angles sculpted to subtly suggest a skull. And his clothes were still stained with actual blood. He was an Alley myth, a nightmare with more bite than the Bat, because he wasn’t afraid to do real damage. He was death.

Jason Peter Todd is scary smart, and he knows how to make the exact impact he wants.

“I don’t know you, but I know your colors. You’re Ibanescu’s boys.”

I had to google Gotham crime families. I know literally nothing other than the name.

It was one thing to let her get the snot beat out of her. And even if someone else had taken a shot at her, he wouldn’t have minded. But he couldn’t. Not in that suit.

“It’s not about you,” Jason repeated, his voice gravelly and rough. He pointed toward the yellow symbol on her chest, the symbol that, in the world he’d left, the world he remembered, belonged to someone else. “I owe her a debt. And now it’s paid.” Jason was a murderer. A thief. A criminal. A drug lord. He had no illusions as to his own goodness anymore, no hope for redemption or grace. But he had his values, the few precious things that he would not allow. One of those, it seemed, was watch a man restrain and stab a Batgirl while he did nothing.

Someday I'll write more about that. The partner and friend and maybe mentor who was still reeling from trauma and hadn't yet found her way when Jason was snuffed out of existence.

Jason was tired, but the night was just beginning.

So that's where it starts. Jason tired, literally caked with dried blood, stepping in not because of love or hate or curiosity or concern but because he felt he owed a debt to someone else and that debt instead landed on the person in front of him.

#fanfic bts brain dump #fanfic #batfic #batfam #jason todd

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reidingrainbow · 1 month

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momentarily breaking out of my absence to participate in this month's cm fic challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins :3

i've had a wip cooking for over a year and even though it's still not done, i'd like to at least post this first chapter for the prompt!

Night Changes

[ Rated M for minors keep out ] 4038 words | moreid, mostly case-fic?

CW: trans male pregnancy (specifically spencer), nausea/emeto warning, canon typical violence, mentions of homophobia

summary: morgan and reid find out they're expecting in a... less than ideal fashion

Friday nights are always a treasured time for Spencer and Derek. After a long week at work, all they can think of is coming home to one of their apartments and falling into each other. It usually entails a delivery from their favorite local restaurant, a cheesy television show, and Clooney sitting at their feet waiting for them to drop something for him or curled up on the sofa with them.

But other nights, nights like this, they need a little extra time to themselves. Nights like this involve Clooney being nowhere to be seen, some movie they’ve seen a thousand times, and maybe a glass of wine.

The only sounds to be heard in the room are the low drone of the television and Spencer’s soft gasps, his little hitches of breath and whimpers as Derek’s lips lave over his neck and collarbone. Derek eases the thinner man out of his lap and lays him back on the couch, his lips slowly traveling down his chest and abdomen and stopping to nip at his sharp hipbones. Spencer whines and attempts to buck his hips up into the touch, but Derek effortlessly keeps him in place with one hand. The other busies itself with unbuttoning Spencer’s pants, fingers moving deftly while he captures Spencer’s lips in a passionate kiss. Derek’s fingers slip inside Spencer’s boxers, inching closer to his throbbing–

On the kitchen counter, their phones chime in unison.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Spencer mutters, forehead still pressed to Derek’s. Above him, his boyfriend chuckles and presses an apologetic kiss to his lips before crawling off of him. They redress themselves and make an honest attempt to not look like they’d just been called into work in the middle of what was almost sex, but in the back of Spencer’s mind he knows they’ll probably figure it out anyway. He shimmies his binder back on and tucks in his shirt. While he buttons his pants back up, he notices that they definitely feel more snug than they did the week prior. He thought he’d been imagining things when he began to struggle closing his pants over the past few weeks, but now his growing waistline is undeniable. He sucks in his stomach to button the closure and lets out the breath as a sigh. “I think I need to lay off the take-out,” he says to Derek, following him into the kitchen to find his cardigan.

“Oh yeah?” Derek says, already at the door putting his shoes back on. “You and me both, pretty boy. I’m not sure how much longer we can eat like we’re in our twenties.” He pats his stomach for emphasis, as if he doesn’t have the world’s most glorious set of abs hidden beneath his silk button down.

Spencer huffs a laugh and buttons his cardigan back up. “Maybe I should cook more.” He pads over to the door in his mismatched socks, where Derek is holding his bag for him.

Derek smirks. “So we can live off of ramen? I’ll take my chances with Thai every night.”

“I can cook more than ramen,” Spencer insists. “Rossi taught us how to make his spaghetti and you even said yourself I did a really good job.” With his shoes on, he takes his bag from Derek’s waiting hands and follows him out to the driveway.

“I thought we were gonna stop eating like college students! Can you make anything that isn’t pasta based?” Derek says as they climb into his car. Spencer scrunches his face up and shakes his head as they buckle in. “That’s alright, next time we go visit my family my mom might be able to teach us a little somethin’.”

Spencer smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”

Spencer and Derek step out of the elevator for the second time that day, only two hours after leaving for the night (precisely two hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-five seconds, but who’s counting) and enter the bullpen to meet the rest of the team, where JJ is lamenting about her similarly ruined evening. Derek makes a quip about “dusting off the cobwebs” that earns him a swat on the arm from Penelope, and soon enough the team is called up to begin the briefing.

Any lingering thoughts of the evening’s earlier activities are thoroughly squashed within the first 60 seconds of the round table meeting. Spencer blames the crime scene photos, the images of the deep, cross-hatched cuts on the victims’ backs, for the wave of nausea that washes over him and sends a shiver down his spine. He flips through the rest of the file in hopes that averting his eyes will untangle the knot in his stomach. It doesn’t. He breathes deeply through his nose, trying his best to stay focused on the details of the case.

He drops a hand below the table and lets it flap at his side; he needs to stim through the feeling but the thought of calling attention to himself is only serving to make the sickly feeling even worse. He manages to make it through the meeting without incident and no one seems to have noticed anything was off about him. Some part of him, distantly, wonders if anyone would check on him if they did notice. He squashes the thought before it can fester.

The meeting can’t be over soon enough. As soon as Spencer stands, his body suddenly feels infinitely heavier. Exhaustion has crept up on him and taken him by surprise. He brews another cup of coffee before they take off in hopes of making himself feel slightly less like a zombie.

The coffee does, in Spencer’s professional opinion, absolutely fuckall. He finds himself drifting off during their second debriefing, trying in vain to fight off sleep but his eyelids feeling heavy regardless. Aaron gives them their assignments for when they land and suggests that Spencer lie down. Spencer opens his mouth to insist he’s fine, he can just make more coffee, but before he can manage any words he’s overtaken by a yawn. Defeated, he retreats to the couch at the back of the plane. He refuses to lie down, insisting he’s not that tired. When he closes his eyes and leans back, it’s just to rest them for a moment.

“-ise and shine, pretty boy, we gotta get movin’,” comes a voice above him, Derek’s. Spencer wakes slowly, scowling up at Derek while he comes back to himself. He’s fully lying down, not sitting up like he remembers, and there’s a pillow under his head and a blanket draped over him. “Come on Reid, don’t make me carry you.”

Spencer sits up, finding he doesn’t actually feel better after his nap; he feels worse, actually, like finally sleeping made him realize how much he still needed to sleep. He reaches a hand up to Derek and he takes it, pulling him off of the couch and onto his feet. He ruffles Spencer’s hair, smiling fondly when he sleepily attempts to bat his hand away. “Let’s get to the hotel, you can snore in my ear all night.”

Derek starts moving and Spencer quickly grabs his bag and follows after him. “I do not snore,” he insists. He hears the older man chuckle in front of him. “I don’t!” It only serves to make Derek laugh harder; he definitely doesn’t mind the teasing, then, if it means he can hear his love’s laugh.

“You do, but only when you’re exhausted,” Derek says. “What’s got you so tired?”

Spencer shrugs and follows him to pick up their luggage. “I’m really not sure, it just snuck up on me. I was fine all day, even earlier tonight,” Spencer flushes a little, despite his exhaustion. “I even had coffee and still almost conked out during the meeting.” Derek hums in acknowledgement, patting him on the back and letting his touch linger, only for a moment, before he turns to head to the waiting SUVs. Spencer sighs, longing for the warmth of his hands on him again, before following after him. The faster they reach the hotel, the sooner he can rest in his arms.

Spencer wakes up the next morning still feeling absolutely wiped of energy, despite spending the night snoring in Derek’s ear as predicted. He trudges through the morning, only just alert enough to be coherent but nowhere near his usual self. The trip to the local bar is helpful, at least, and provides some useful insight into the town and its residents.

When Spencer and Derek arrive at the police station, Spencer briefly greets the sheriff before hightailing it to the coffeemaker. This time the coffee does help, if only a little, and soon Spencer can feel the fog lifting from his brain. Within no time he’s back to his usual self, putting his 20,000 words per minute to use going through all of the case files and relaying any useful information back to the team. They hit a stride in their investigation, working for a few hours and making good progress.

Spencer feels his stomach lurch, feels a shiver run up his spine, and he blanches. Oh God, he thinks, please not here, not now. These waves of nausea have come and gone sporadically for the past few weeks, but this is the closest he’s felt to actually throwing up. The thought of it makes him anxious, which in turn makes him more nauseous, which worsens the anxiety, effectively locking him into a hellish negative feedback loop.

He mentally cycles through everything he’s had to eat today to figure out what could possibly be disagreeing with him this strongly. He comes up empty, recalling only the two cups of coffee he had right there in the station.

(He wonders, then, if he should have taken up Derek’s offer and taken a few bites of the granola bar he’d had for breakfast. The train of thought is quickly derailed by his disgust at the thought of biting into someone else’s half eaten food, and it does nothing to quell his nausea.)

Whatever it was, it isn’t sitting well now. Spencer peels off his cardigan in an attempt to stop sweating, but to no avail. His stomach lurches again, dangerously, and he shoots up out of his seat. He barely mumbles out a “Need some air,” to the rest of the team before he bolts out of the police station. He distantly hears a familiar set of footsteps falling in behind him, but he doesn’t pay it any mind until he’s outside. He takes a deep breath of fresh air, one hand cradling his sensitive stomach and the other flapping nervously at his side.

“Everything alright, Spencer?” Derek asks, laying a hand on the small of Spencer’s back. Spencer isn’t facing him but he doesn’t need to to know those thick eyebrows are drawn up in concern, eyes soft in the way they always are when they’re on him. His hand is warm, large, easily spans over his lower back. He’s rubbing a gentle circle and oh- that feels good, Spencer hadn’t even noticed how much his back hurt.

Spencer swallows thickly and nods. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just felt a bit nauseous for a minute there, I didn’t want to puke in the bullpen and those bathrooms…” He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “ I’d rather take my chances out here.” He turns and gives Derek a small smile. Derek returns it with a grin of his own and Spencer wishes more than anything they weren’t on duty so he could lean over and kiss him.

“I told you, you should’ve had a bite of breakfast,” Derek says, his grin never fading. “You can’t run on coffee alone, pretty boy, you need actual food.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, laughing despite himself. He turns to fully face Derek, the other man’s hand sliding from his back to loosely hold his hip. “You wanna test that theory?”

“No, I just want you to eat something,” Derek teases. “Maybe your body is trying to tell you something.”

“Like what?”

“That you should stop being so hardheaded,” There’s no bite behind it, and Derek brings the hand on Spencer’s waist up to gently pat his cheek. Spencer instinctively leans into his gentle touch, only barely, before the door to the station slams open behind them. Derek stiffens and rips his hand off of Spencer like he’s been burned and Spencer himself takes an almost comically large step backwards, far enough that he slams into the railing behind him, and shoves his hands into his pockets. Officer Vicky, overenthusiastic and perky and so, so nosey, looks up at them expectantly from the doorway.

“Everythin’ alright out here, agents?” she asks, her voice clipped. Her eyes dart up and down their bodies quickly, trying to catch them out. This isn’t their first time in the bible belt and it won’t be the last; they know how to snap their masks back on quickly, instantly switching back to coworkers whose closeness falls well within plausible deniability.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Derek says, returning the officer’s plastered on smile with one of his own. “We’ll be back inside in a minute.” Over his shoulder, Spencer presses his lips into a line and gives a small nod.

Officer Vicky takes the hint (for once) and heads back inside. Derek and Spencer sigh in unison, then chuckle a little.

“You sure you’re alright, sweetness?” Derek asks, once more because he can’t help it.

“I’m fine, really, don’t worry about me. I’ll even try to eat lunch today,” Spencer replies. Seeming satisfied with that answer, Derek relaxes and they head back inside.

They take their seats at the table, Spencer’s being on the table, and dive back into the case files. “Alright, where were we?”

Spencer likes to pride himself on his excellent planning skills. He goes through every step of the operation, analyzes every possibility, tries to think of everything that could possibly go wrong.

He does not, however, consider the possibility of being shot in the neck tonight.

It’s funny, he thinks, how he always knows that someday, something horrible could happen to him on the job. It has, in fact, quite often. Being kidnapped and drugged, watching his girlfriend die in front of him, being infected with anthrax. These things happen; hazards of the job. And yet, every time something does happen to him, he’s blindsided by it.

He’s not thinking any of that, though. He’s not thinking much of anything as he crumples to the ground. Distantly, over a whistling kettle and the gunfire and the ringing in his ears, he hears Derek scream his name. Hands are on him, whose hands, he knows these hands. Before he can identify them, he’s propped up into a sitting position. Everything is blurring together – all the sounds, his vision is dark around the edges. Someone is holding his neck, Alex is there. She’s telling him to keep his eyes open, which is very unfair, because he’s never wanted to close them more in his life. She’s telling Ethan to stay with her… Ethan? That can’t be right, he could’ve sworn his name is Spencer. Who is Ethan? Spencer is cold… and tired…so tired. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, he’s staring right into the sun. No… it’s a light. He’s in an ambulance. The sirens… They remind him of the tea kettle noise he heard earlier.

“What?”

It’s Derek’s voice, coming from his left. Spencer’s hand reaches toward him before his eyes follow. “Do you hear it?” he slurs, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth to form the words. He’s dizzy, and everything is far too loud, and he’s about to close his eyes again when Derek grabs his hand and holds it tight. Spencer squeezes back, weakly, but it eases the concerned crease of Derek’s brow minutely.

“Spe-Reid.” Derek says, catching himself. Last names only while in the field. “Reid, you gotta stay with me, eyes on me-” The EMT says something that catches Derek’s attention, but he quickly redirects it back to Spencer. “That’s good, stay with me.”

Spencer closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he’s in a hospital bed surrounded by figurines and Alex and Penelope are there, making an honest attempt at pretending they haven’t been staring at him.

To say the rest of the night is a whirlwind would be an extreme disservice to the word “whirlwind.” Spencer doesn’t know the probability of being shot twice in one night by two different people, and he could almost definitely calculate it if he wasn’t so tired. He’s been up all night; between being stirred awake for check-ins every hour and the multiple attempted murders, he hasn’t had much of a chance to do more than doze off.

Penelope has stepped out of the room, stating that she needs water and the room still smells like gunpowder and she desperately needs to be where the gunpowder smell is not, leaving Spencer and Derek alone for the first time since that morning.

Spencer shifts over in the bed, motioning for Derek to come join him. The older man lowers the guardrail on his side of the bed and climbs in. Spencer immediately turns to face him, slotting his body up against Derek’s like they’ve done countless times. Derek’s strong arms wrap around him, one hand coming up to stroke Spencer’s hair while the other remains free for Spencer to hold, interlocking their fingers and resting their hands in the space between their chests. They don’t share words, as they often do when they cuddle, but instead opt to silently enjoy each other’s presence. Both men are worn out, exhaustion seeping into their bones, and this little moment between them is enough. The calm quiet, Derek’s warmth, the sound of his heartbeat… it’s enough to nearly allow Spencer to sleep properly.

“Knock knock,” comes a voice from the door, in time with the actual knocks on the glass door. Spencer’s doctor – his real doctor – is standing in the doorway, clipboard in her hand. “I’m so sorry to interrupt you guys, but I need to check in with you after that whole fiasco.”

Spencer reluctantly pulls away to allow Derek to slip out of the bed and give the doctor room to work. She works quickly, taking his blood pressure and checking his breathing, and as soon as she’s completed her examination she moves out of the way so Derek can take his seat on the bed with Spencer.

“Alright,” she says, thumbing through his chart. “Everything looks good, I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” She moves to leave but turns back to Spencer. “Did I have a chance to go over your bloodwork with you after the surgery?”

Spencer shakes his head and Derek glances between him and the doctor, thick eyebrows upturned with concern. “No, you didn’t go over it with me… are my levels abnormal?”

“There’s nothing urgently wrong, aside from your incredibly low iron. Try to get more iron into your diet, you’re in danger of becoming anemic – but that’s not what I wanted to bring up with you.” She switches her attention to Derek, where he’s perched on the end of the bed, looking more anxious by the second. “Are you his partner?” Derek nods, and she turns her attention back to Spencer.

“Doctor Reid, are you aware that you’re pregnant?”

A beat. Another beat. A beat, that’s actually Spencer’s heart coming to a complete stop, scientific improbabilities be damned. “I-” He’s having every possible thought at once, he’s sure of it. “The-” Derek whips his head to look at him, expression unreadable. Spencer’s face is surely cycling through expressions at random, like the five stages of grief in roulette. “I’m…” His heart is pounding in his ears, he’s never felt every emotion at once before and it’s all so much. “Baby?” is what his brain finally settles on as a response.

Spencer barely processes that he’s moving, slowly sitting up and reaching a hand towards the doctor. “May I see my chart?” He asks, his throat suddenly going dry. She nods and hands him the folder. He flips it open and Derek leans over to read along with him. He quickly gives up, however, because he can’t keep up with Spencer’s speed reading. Spencer’s finger moves across the page, his lips mouthing along with his reading. He soon finds what he’s looking for and freezes.

Pregnancy Test – Positive. 60-62 days [9 weeks]

Spencer blinks at the paper. Blinks again, like what he’s looking at will change. “Nine weeks?” He asks quietly. He’s not sure who exactly he’s talking to. Is he really so disconnected from himself, obsessed with his job, that he didn’t notice anything was off? For over two months?

The doctor nods, keeping her expression neutral in line with their reactions. Spencer hands the folder over to her and she slips it into the pocket at the end of the bed. “I’ll leave you two to discuss this privately. You should be ready for discharge soon, a nurse will come by later with some forms for you.” She leaves, and Spencer barely processes it. His mind had stopped moving the moment he was given the news.

Spencer is distantly aware of Derek reaching out to him, taking his hands in his own. They cling to each other like a lifeline because, in this moment, all they really have is each other. Spencer’s whole body feels numb, and he’s sure his face is reflecting it, but when he looks at Derek… he still can’t tell how he feels. He looks… scared. That look in his eye, a look of fear and uncertainty, it looks out of place on him.

Derek takes a shuddering breath. “What are we–” He’s cut off by his phone ringing, his work ringtone. He sighs, suddenly looking so, so tired, and reluctantly lets go of Spencer’s hands to check it. “It’s JJ… I don’t have to go, I can stay here with you. They’ll be okay without me.”

Spencer opens his mouth to reply and finds nothing comes out, no matter how hard he tries.

[It’s okay,] he signs. [Go, the team needs you.]

Spencer briefly wonders why, even now, he can’t say “please stay, I need you” just this once. He chooses not to examine it.

Derek sighs, looking down at his still ringing phone. “Alright, pretty boy. I’ll be back soon, I promise. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, after we’ve both had some good rest.” He stands up, leaning over to place a kiss on Spencer’s forehead, then his nose, then his lips. Spencer’s whole body visibly relaxes, and he presses his hand, middle and ring fingers touching his palm and his remaining fingers up, into Derek’s chest. “I love you too,” Derek murmurs against his lips. He pulls away, and Spencer watches his demeanor switch from that of his doting boyfriend back to the FBI agent.

Penelope returns right as Derek is leaving, and Spencer must do a much worse job at hiding the fact that he’s having a crisis, because she is immediately at his side asking him what’s wrong. To be fair, his inability to mask has caused countless uncomfortable situations in his life, but nothing prepared him for the sheer panic that fills his body while trying to come up with a believable lie to tell the only person who always manages to see through his excuses (who simultaneously cannot keep a secret for more than a few hours). Penelope must pick up on his shift in mood, however, because she stops questioning him and takes her seat next to the bed. Spencer crosses his arms over his stomach and curls in on himself, facing away from her.

Penelope watches Spencer, all furrowed brows and bitten fingernails and nervous energy, and sighs. She knows prying will just agitate him, but she’s getting stressed out just watching him stare into the middle distance and chew on his fingers, not unlike his mother. She’s not sure how to make him feel better, which she hates, because making people feel better is, like, her whole thing.

Maybe more jell-o will help.

#i named the fic based on the whole thing not just this chapter so the title might not make sense sorry #mentioningmargins #moreid #spencer reid #derek morgan #my writing #cm challenge #criminal minds fanfic #spencer read fanfic #derek morgan fanfic #moreid fanfic #mpreg #criminal minds mpreg

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mylittlesecrethaven · 1 month

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Facts About the TWST Boys You Might Not Know: Octavinelle

So, it's been a minute since I made the other ones, but by the time I'm making this, the Heartslabyul part has been out for 3 days, and it's already the most popular post I've ever made, which is kinda insane. 92 fucking notes. Where did all the people come from? No clue.

Tbh, I'm glad people enjoyed the post (or just liked because it's a thing people do where they just like posts they think are cool? Which I don't understand, but whatever.), but I make these posts for very selfish reasons, so it's not super important. I just chose to include this because I find it insane so many people interacted with one of my posts.

Anyway-

SKIP DOWN BELOW THE CUT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ A BORING MESSAGE!

Azul

He knows how to play the piano, and was in a band with both Jade and Floyd

He can write with all 10 of his limbs in his octo form (I figure that's pretty well known, but I still like this fact)

He's into coin collecting

His last name references a color like his first name, but also has grotto in it, referencing the grotto where Ariel in The Little Mermaid kept her human findings (that sounds weird, but it's technically true)

Jade

His job when there is a new influx of Octavinelle students is to gain info on them to both appeal to them and blackmail them. The info includes: home countries, hobbies, tastes, least favorite foods, worst subjects, and a catalogue of the students' public, private, and secret Magicam accounts (I do not want to be an Octavinelle student, holy fuck)

The little earing he wears (Floyd also wears, so I'm gonna put this fact in his as well) is made from sturgeon scales, because before they entered middle school, a sturgeon challenged them to a fight, and in return for being beaten by the twins, the sturgeon had to give them some scales (I'm pretty sure they might have also just taken the scales and said the sturgeon gave the scales to them)

The sturgeon scales mentioned above are apparently lucky charms in the Coral Sea

Floyd

His name is actually Welsh, and means "grey" or "grey-haired" (very interesting, actually)

As we all know, he has a nickname for most of the TWST cast. (I actually made a post about these nicknames a while ago, but I'm not linking it because going through my posts for that would be waaayyy too much of a hassle)

He says he's neither the older nor younger twin brother of Jade (which.... like... does it really matter? And since they hatch from an egg (I'm assuming because I just looked it up and morays do lay eggs), wouldn't they have a chance to hatch at the same time?)

His skin is very beautiful and well-moisturized according to Vil (Is Jade not the same or...?)

Floyd is very interested in shoes (I'm sure we knew that though)

Oh shit, a good fact right here. Floyd can perfectly recall anything he has seen or heard as long as it's interesting to him. If it's boring, he'll forget it immediately. (I actually never knew this wtf)

I wish the other dorms got as much love as Heartslabyul, but I feel like that last Floyd fact will make up for that for now.

Anyways, I'll get Scarabia done when I get it done I guess.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #octavinelle #octavinelle twst #octavinelle disney twst #octavinelle twisted wonderland #octavinelle disney twisted wonderland

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 8 months

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To Fall At Your Feet

1200 2400 words for 1200 followers #13

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! This is the first of the final two requests, and since they have taken me SO long to get to, I've decided to double them as a thank you for putting up with me your patience. This one was a challenge for me, and I hope you like what I did with it. The song is about trust - or a slight lack of it - and what it feels like when something seems too good to be true, so that was what I had in mind when writing this one. This is completely stand alone.

Warnings: SW canon typical violence, brief mention of blood/injuries

Requested by: @chiyo13 Song: I'm Not Calling You A Liar Character Choice: Din Djarin - with a heavier set/ plus size woman - Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long to get to and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Having a place to call home was new to him.

There was so much he had forgotten about his life before the Mandalorians took him in. He was young, and it was long ago, and the things he’d experienced since then had been in such stark contrast to his earliest memories that they’d been almost entirely overwritten. He knew he had a home, once. A safe place with a soft bed and a family that loved him fiercely. And when he and Grogu settled into the cabin on Nevarro, he realized it was something he could have again.

Something he could give the kid.

Though they spent much of their time traveling the galaxy, Din teaching Grogu along the way, having a place to return to that was just theirs was a comfort that he never imagined he would come to value. Being raised in the Fighting Core and then working in the Guild taught him to aim for survival. Spending time with his son taught him to aim higher.

It taught him how much more to life there was if he was willing to open the door to it.

But before he could think about what that looked like, he needed to ensure that his home was safe. It wasn’t an issue when he and Grogu were there. Both of them were more than capable of defending their territory from any number of threats, and Greef had done a terrific job of eliminating most of the crime in the city. A Mandalorian would always have enemies, though, and an empty cabin couldn’t defend itself.

That was where you came in.

When he brought up his safety concerns to Karga, the magistrate was quick to offer a solution. “I doubt it’ll be necessary as Nevarro is a perfectly respectable planet these days,” the man had said, one hand disappearing into his robe pocket and coming out with a treat for Grogu. Handing it over with a chuckle at the child’s eagerness, he clapped Din on the shoulder. “But I might know someone who can help.”

He’d gone on to explain that while most of the damage that had been done during Gorian Shard’s attack on the city had been repaired, there was still a section of it that had yet to be restored, leaving a small number of citizens without homes. Most of them had people there on Nevarro who could take them in until the reconstruction was complete.

You, however, weren’t from Nevarro. In fact, you’d only been there for a few weeks when the pirates descended, and you’d come only because Karga himself had asked you to. He explained that you were once one of his most skilled bounty hunters, and that he’d asked you to help keep his people safe since the New Republic didn’t seem too keen to answer his requests for aid.

“I’d wager that she’d be more than happy to keep an eye on your abode while you’re gone, so long as the price is right and you give her a place to stay.”

“A hired gun?” Din asked with a tilt of his head, Karga nodding in response. “And you trust her?”

“Of course I do! As much as I trust you, Mando! I’ve always said that some of my favorite people are bounty hunters. And with a weapon in her hands she’s just as capable as you are of providing protection.”

Din considered the man’s words for a beat, then let out a sigh. “Well, I’d want to meet her first before I agree to anything.”

“Of course, my friend, of course!” Pulling another confection from his pocket and handing it to a wide-eyed and perpetually hungry Grogu, he promised to set up a meeting.

– – –

“I don’t know about this, Greef, I’m not a kriffing housekeeper.” You’d scoffed at first when your boss-turned-friend had brought up the idea. Hands on your hips, you frowned at the man. “You told him that, right? I’d sooner catch a transport back to Tatooine and take my chances in Mos Eisley than take a job cooking and cleaning for some-”

“Just meet with him,” Karga had insisted. “He’s not looking for anything other than security, and we both know you’re more than up for that task.”

You’d grumbled, but agreed, and within the next few days you found yourself on a speeder bike, heading in the direction of the cabin out beyond the lava flats. You were doubtful that the man you were on your way to meet would end up hiring you to protect his homestead, sure he would do what so many others had done when deciding whether or not to work with you: take one look at your fuller figure and assume the weight you carried around your midsection meant that you weren’t skilled or able or athletic enough to complete the task at hand. People judged. You assumed he would do the same.

You were wrong.

When you pulled up to the cabin he - and his kid - had been waiting for you on the bench just outside the front door. He rose as you stepped off of your bike, the sunlight glinting off his broad armored shoulders as he moved. The child hopped down from the seat and trailed along at just the right height that the man’s tattered cape brushed the top of his long, green ears, and you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here.” His voice had surprised you, huskier than you thought it would be. Warmer. “Greef Karga had nothing but good things to say about your skills. I trust his judgment, but I needed to be sure that I could trust you.”

You liked him right away for how straightforward he was. “Fair enough.” Nodding, you removed your speeder gloves and tucked them into a pocket near your right hip. “If you’re opening your door to someone, you want to know them first.” You brushed your palms together and then extended your right hand out in front of you, introducing yourself.

Just like the sound of his voice, the texture of his gloves against your skin came as a shock to you, the material softer than it looked as it wrapped around your hand. “I’m Din Djarin, and this is Grogu.” He released your hand from his grip and tilted his head towards his left boot, where the child was peeking up at you.

You glanced down, waving to the kid, his toothy little grin bringing the smile back to your face. He raised one clawed hand to wave back, babbling happily, and then Din’s smoky tone caught your attention again. “Is that a pulse rifle on your back?”

You assured him that it was, and though he’d asked you several questions about yourself, posed different scenarios to see what you’d do if the cabin were under attack, and thoroughly threatened you should you ever even think of hurting the child or turning on them in any way, you were fairly certain that you had him at the rifle.

He’d given you the job that same day, which meant that - for the moment, anyway - you had a home. Or at least a place to stay, you reminded yourself, which was all you had been looking for. And that was enough.

… Wasn’t it?

– – –

All he was looking for when Karga set up that meeting had been insurance. Safety. The comfort of knowing he - and more importantly, Grogu - wouldn’t have to go through the pain of losing their home again if something happened while they were away.

You gave him those things, and he was grateful for that.

But the longer you stayed at the cabin, the more he got to know about you and not just about your proficiency with weapons. Each time he and the kid left on a training mission, he realized that he was looking forward not just to returning home, but to seeing you. By the time a year had passed, he realized that he’d found far more than what he’d been looking for when he welcomed you into his life.

You weren’t only there to protect his home. To Din, you’d become synonymous with it.

It wasn’t just the familiarity. It wasn’t just the trust that had grown between you, or the companionship that came with sharing a roof, or the way you helped him look after Grogu without having to ask.

It was the swell in his chest when he caught a smile curving your cheek. It was the calm he felt at the sound of your voice when you spoke his name. It was the way his mind would wander on nights when he couldn’t sleep - to thoughts of sleeping next to you, the shape of you molded to him, skin to skin beneath the sheets. It was the way he imagined how his hands would look, gloveless and gripping your flesh, soft and warm when all he’d ever known had been hard and sharp and cold.

It was the way he wanted you in every sense of the word.

He wasn’t sure how you’d respond to such a bold confession. You’d never indicated that you felt the same way or that you wanted your arrangement to change, so he’d kept it to himself, unwilling to risk damaging the relationship you did have. He convinced himself it was better if you didn’t know.

One holo call was all it took to change his mind on that.

It came in when he and the kid were just re-entering the Outer Rim territories after a lengthy trip to Kashyyk. When the transmission code blinked on screen and he saw that it was coming from you, he smiled to himself under his helmet. “It's her,” he told Grogu, pointing at the section of the screen that displayed the code. The kid’s eyes brightened, his ears lifting as excited little sounds tumbled from his mouth. “You want to answer it? Go on, you remember which button to press.” He nodded as Grogu’s clawed hand hovered over the correct switch, telling him to push it.

But he was unprepared for what he was about to see - or what it would make him feel.

Your face flickered before him and even through the blue tinted light of the projector he could make out a trail of blood coming from your nose, another from a cut that stretched over your eyebrow. The sleeve of your shirt was torn and charred, likely from blaster fire. Your name burst from his lips as Grogu let out a whine from beside him. “What happened?”

“Din. There was an attack. It’s…” You sucked in a breath and winced. “It’s safe now. Bandits came. I took care of them. I just wanted to let you know what you were coming back to.”

“They hurt you.” He growled the words, moving forward in his seat.

You let out a tired huff. “Occupational hazard. Don’t worry, they won’t be back.” Your eyes flashed sharply and he caught your meaning.

And though he was glad that they were dead and could pose no further threat, a part of him almost wished they’d gotten away so that he could kill them himself for what they’d done to you. Fists clamped tightly shut, he seethed silently - over the fact that you were injured, yes. But also over the fact that you assumed all he cared about was that you’d protected the property, because that was all he’d given you reason to think.

He decided then and there that you deserved to know how he felt and what he thought and how much he wanted and needed and cared for you.

– – –

Both Din and Grogu were out of the cockpit before the sand that had gotten kicked up when the N-1 landed had settled.

You’d been waiting on the bench, holding a cold pack to the blaster burn on your left arm when the kid jumped and flipped to your side, a slew of worried sounds spilling out, little arms reaching for you. Dropping the pack, you caught the brown-robed bundle, trying to hold back a wince as he collided with you. “Hey, little guy, it’s okay. I’m alright, see?” You rubbed one of his ears between your fingers to soothe him. “Everything’s fine.”

“No. It isn’t.”

You looked up at the sound of Din’s voice, setting Grogu on the seat next to you. “What do you mean? Are there more bandits? Did you-”

“Nothing like that.” He looked down at the kid. “Grogu, why don’t you go inside and draw a picture of what we did on our trip? You can show it to her later.”

Grogu’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and within seconds he was climbing down and scrambling inside. As soon as he was no longer in sight, Din let out a sigh and sank onto the seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

You frowned. “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I… don’t mean for the bandits.” He turned towards you, bringing his hand up to rest against your wounded arm.

“Din?”

“I can’t believe I could have lost you without ever telling you how important you are to me. How much I care about you. That’s what I’m sorry about.”

“What?” You blinked. “You… You don’t have to say that just because you feel bad about what happened, Din.” You swallowed. “You don’t have to-”

He said your name, hand leaving your arm to hesitantly curve around your cheek. “I’m saying it because it’s true and I need you to know it.”

Though it came as a thorough shock, you could almost feel the honesty rolling off of him and you realized that he had never once been anything but truthful with you. And even though it seemed like something you only dared to dream about when he was gone and you were alone in the cabin - him choosing you when he could have anyone in the galaxy - something in your chest told you that it had been there all along.

You’d just been too afraid to admit that you wanted it.

“Well -” You brought your hand up to cover his, keeping it there as his fingers spread to accommodate yours. “Now I know.”

And now you would make sure that he knew how you felt, too.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @valkblue @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @spishsstuff @Noisynightmarepoetry @tessa-quayle

#12 a palooza #1200 words for 12 followers #but make it a double #din djarin x plus size!female reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x plus size! reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #din djarin #grogu #pedro pascal character #pedrostories #i'm not calling you a liar #to fall at your feet #Spotify

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donnerpartyofone · 22 days

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youtube

This morning I went over to the church to see my favorite guy, who is so often surprising and challenging. He seemed a little out of sorts today, stammering and losing his place; I sometimes worry about this old guy, and I was paying attention. Then at the end of the mass he said that they're having air quality problems in the rectory and the EPA is involved. I hope he's not getting brain damage!

It was sort of funny, though, because the homily was about having trouble focusing--not being able to concentrate, and having anxiety about the future. That was pretty relevant to me, medically and otherwise. I'm writing this on the morning of the new moon, just to be extra flaky, about how much trouble I have forming goals.

Pursuing goals is also hard, but step one should be having a vision, and that's the really impossible part. When I was a little kid I had two ambitions: to be a writer, and to be dead. The latter thing represents one of the main motivating forces in my life, which is pain avoidance. I think this is the chief motivator of many people without them even realizing it; comfort-seeking itself can be a form of pain avoidance. Pain avoidance is not a legitimate goal, it's more of a reflex, and it can become a preoccupying distraction from any kind of actual ambition (especially as fulfilling ambitions often involves some amount of discomfort). Focusing on what you do not want is not equivalent to focusing on what you do want.

I never had a very good idea of what I want. I found this out when I went into therapy as an adult; I couldn't formulate any notion of what I wanted out of life. I couldn't even come up with any masturbatory, pie in the sky fantasies. I might vaguely be able to say something like "a bigger, nicer apartment", but I can't come up with any compelling ideas about what that would even look like. I try, but I know I'm faking it. Certainly part of my interest in religion and occultism is the idea that I could train myself to really clearly conceptualize any kind of goals or desires. In the case of occultism specifically (and, let's be honest, many forms of self-help), visualization is always a key element. In recent years I learned that I am abnormally incapable of forming mental images, and I have come to believe that this is intimately connected to my inability to figure out what I want or how to get it.

Nearly all of my thinking is verbal. I found out what aphantasia was while talking to my dad, who is extremely visual with an excellent grasp of spacial relations (something I have almost no concept of). He was shocked when I said I can't really picture anything, asking me "Then how do you do anything?" He said when he decides to make a sandwich, for instance, he automatically sees himself performing the actions of sandwich-making, and sees the aspirational sandwich in his mind's eye. Visualizing is essential to his entire executive process. It so happens that I am aphantasic and I have a lot of executive dysfunction. I no longer think this is coincidental.

(I'm also very faceblind, and I think this is connected; something to do with the ability to reconstitute a visual memory and relate it to something that is presently in front of me. But anyway...)

Perhaps oddly, I am an artist, or at least I have been. But I've never been able to draw from my imagination, like at all. The best work I've ever done is all swipes; I am a great believer in swipes, it can reveal a lot about your personal style and obsessions and when you re-draw someone else's art. But I can't just sit and think up something fun to draw, even when I try to just doodle I'm usually responding more to the lines I see emerging on the paper than anything I'm thinking or feeling. I think this is related to the fact that I'm an obsessive scopophile; I take in a lot of detail from my environment, and I watch movies with the same attitude and frequency with which most people listen to music. Recently I started to joke that I have an image deficiency and that's why I have to consume huge amounts of visual media, I need the external infusion. But like, it's not that much of a joke, maybe.

In my 30s I randomly developed this condition where scar tissue grows over your corneas, and I had to have a series of freaky eye surgeries. My doctors always asked if I grew up somewhere warm and sunny and windy, if I do a lot of outdoor sports (sometimes this condition is called "surfer's eye"); I thought this was pretty funny since I couldn't be more of an indoor kid, although maybe cycling is somewhat at fault. Still, my preferred diagnosis is that I watch so much trashy and violent crap that it literally scars my eyes. It's as good an explanation as any! And it does have this weird synergy with my other visual problems.

Anyway, it's not as if I've done absolutely nothing with my life. Quite a few personal achievements piled up in just the last couple of years; certainly I've benefited a lot from luck and the good will of others, but nothing would have happened without my own creativity and commitment. I just wish I had more, you know. Vision. I spend too much of my life "taking one day at a time" and waiting for things to happen to me, assuming I don't have much control over my experiences. I'd rather be able to imagine something that I want to happen and act on it; regardless of whether the thing is going to happen, I'd like to be able to formulate a goal other than paying the rent, or like, not waking up and going to sleep in a state of stark terror. I'm not sure how to get myself to that place, but maybe saying that that's what I want can count for something.

Anyway here are some photos of the thoughtfully planted shrubbery from the church. I missed the full bloom of the weeping cherries, but as soon as they die off the shrubs below turn bright red, pink, yellow, and white. It's pretty inviting I must say.

#Youtube

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amethystfairy1 · 4 months

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Hihi! I just wanted to say I absolutely adore both of your fics sooooo much! The way you write all the characters is amazing :D. I was just wondering do you have any advice or tips for people looking to get into fic writing? And quick q about travelling thieves! We know that mumbo has met pearl but if Grian and Pearl were to meet would they even recognise one another? Anyway your work is incredible and I cant wait to see what you do for the rest of febuwhump!

Hello, hello! ✨

I'm so glad you enjoy my fics and characters!

Tips to get into fic writing? Hmm...I mean, I know it's probably said a lot, but my biggest advice is don't be afraid to start. The first fic you ever write won't be perfect, it'll be far from that, and you've just gotta be ok with that. The best thing you can do is start, write something and post it, see what people think, see what you liked and didn't like about it...then do it again!

As far as like...actual advice, I'd say participate in a writing challenge! Like Febuwhump which is going on right now! 😆 It'll force you to take a prompt, make something of it, post it quickly and then move on. You'll end up with a big chunk of fics and feedback on at least some of them I'm sure, and you can go from there! Also you'd be surprised what sort of storylines might accidentally form during a writing challenge...Traveling Thieves came out of my Whumptober prompts from last year, after all!

My last bit of advice would be to not start with a long fic. By that what I mean is don't try to write some huge overarching narrative...start with something smaller.

Your favorite ship needs to get together, who asks who out? How did that go? What was their first date like? What about their first kiss? How long did it take for them to say 'I love you'? That's like four or five short fics right there. 😛

The reason I write my AU's the way I do is because of stuff like this. It's scary writing a long fic (trust me I've done it a ton of times) because once you bypass a certain point in the story, you can never go back. The fun thing about my AU's being a series of short stories is that I can always bounce up and down the timeline! If you've been keeping up with TTSBC you can see it! I wrote Flower Husbands all the way up to Scott knowing about Jimmy's wings and consistently spending the night at his apartment. They've fought, they've said 'I love you', Scott has been to the under-city and met Jimmy's parents...but I suddenly felt like writing more details about their early game relationship! Before Scott know Jimmy's big secret, before they'd said 'I love you' or anything like that...so guess what? I did just that! I wrote 'Karma Witch' and 'Lovestruck Baby' after I'd written fics like 'Gutterline Sunshine' because that's the greatest part of this set up! I can bounce around! I never get bored or stuck on one plot point because if I don't feel like working on it, then I don't have too! So if you're into worldbuilding and wanna create an AU to have your characters all exist in, I'd super super super recommend using the 'shorter stories in an interconnected series' format.

BONUS TRAVELING THIEVES QUESTION 🏃‍♀️

Pearl and Grian last saw each other when they were sold away form their colony at fifteen years old. It's been seven years since then, but considering they're twins and they were both already mostly grown before they were sold away? Yes. They would definitely recognize each other if they saw each other again. The problem would be if they'd allow themselves to admit they recognized each other...cut ties and forgotten names and all. 😭

I hope my rambling advice helped at least a little bit!

Thanks for coming by! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #traveling thieves au #grian #pearlescentmoon #writing advice #fanfic advice #worldbuilding

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otomiyaa · 7 months

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Profile Tag Game 💕

Hello - Lol hi I'm Ginny and this is a fun something I was about to do on my previous blog, and I remembered it! So I decided to still do it here. It's a random self introduction based on genshin impact character profiles! Maybe even a better fit for me to do it on this new account.

Chat: Tickling - I may have said this before, but I am a very bad tickler. In fact, I can barely remember tickling anyone properly so far in my life. I've done some quick pokes and scribbles, but I just can't go much further than that. Everything I wrote in my fics and hcs is just pure creativity and imagination. Not experience.

When It Rains - I get all cozy when I'm indoors and it's raining, like right now! But when I have to go out, it can make me frown and whine a lot.

When It Snows - I hope I don't fall down... I've got quite a number of experiences already, of slipping and falling in the snow.

Good Night - It's almost 1 AM. I should probably go to sleep. Ah, I'm too wide awake at night these days. And too tired during mornings hahaha.

About Me: Language - I speak Dutch, English, and Japanese and in all languages I sometimes struggle with formality levels at work. Especially when Japanese people call me by my first name without 'san', I am like..!!!! It's always a challenge to find the perfect balance of not being too impolite, and not being too formal and distant. I get the feeling I worry more about language and formality aspects than others.

Something to Share: Subscriptions - I've actually got way too many subscriptions running - Cinema, Spotify, Netflix, HBO Max, Amazon Prime, Disney+, Nintendo Switch Online, and Just Dance+. I kinda pay too much for things I don't always need, but I do need them a little and can't get myself to cancel any, even when they shamelessly increase their prices. Does it make me a money disaster? Hm.

My Hobbies: Journaling - My friends and I all have bullet journals and working on those while chatting and listening to some music is one of the most calming and satisfying things in life for me.

My Troubles - Needing a new laptop so I can play games like The Sims and Honkai Star Rail, but my current laptop isn't so old yet. Also, the Taylor Swift store doesn't ship to the Netherlands, I cry.

Favorite Food - Sushi, bibimbab, spaghetti with meatballs.

Least Favorite Food - Cheese.

About @ticklygiggles - On June 16, 2016, Mia sent me a message on Tumblr, starting a conversation. I messaged her back, and from that moment on we just... talked daily, grew closer and closer, watched anime together, wrote fics together, called and sent voice messages, and last month for the first time we FINALLY were able to play genshin together (Mia made a new acc because we weren't on the same server, huhu dedication girl). We did the Heart Island thing in Mia's world.

About @ragewerthers - We talked about it recently but our friendship started so smoothly and sudden. I was reminded it was because of Ragewerthers getting randomly shadowbanned on Tumblr, as well as our mutual interest in the soccer anime Days, Final Fantasy XV and Minecraft.

Tagging some fellow genshin fans @ticklygiggles @wertzunge @lovelynim @shy-lee-chu @eliankrios @xsezzie @kusuguricafe @fuckparty and ofc anyone else who would like to do it:) Feel free to add more / use other lines or do literal voice-overs! I'll stick to just text hehe.

#tag game #genshin impact #personal #profile tag game #tickling #tickle community

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simulation-machine · 3 months

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SIMS RELATED PROJECTS/UPDATES

My spring break is coming up in a week and holy crap do I have plans on plans on plans, especially since my summer is gonna be full of school + internship + HOPEFULLY friggin' graduating with a BA in Psychology so that I can start applying to grad schools.

Read more iffin' you'd like! It's long! Here's a picture of my golden retriever napping on her brother's food bowl to entice/entertain you:

god she is so precious i would literally kill for her

GOAL 1: MASTER GSHADE/ReSHADE

I know that some people are sticklers for this but my thing is that I had no gee-dee clue what I was doing with ReShade, whereas Gshade just kinda clicked and worked for me? That said I have a bunch of resources for learning ReShade so I might end up moving back to it at some point.

My main issue is figuring out the order of all the different effects. It obviously matters, I'm sure people smarter than me have tried to use presets only to be like "why tf does this look absolutely nothing like the baller screenshots this one cool Simblr has?" Annnd it turns out it's order + remembering to turn off certain graphic settings. Also photoshop, but that's gonna take a lot longer for me to figure out lol.

Like I'd been struggling to figure out why @gunthermunch's gorgeous Lithium preset wasn't looking as sexy as it did before annnnd it's because I forgot to turn Edge Smoothing off when switching to it. Jesus wept at how dippy I am sometimes.

Eventually, what I would like to do is maybe make my own preset at some point? I would be kind enough to show the effect order too if I did so. But this requires so, so much more shader knowledge than I currently have.

FUN FACT: My first ever degree was in art, I even went to a very fancy and private art school (School of the Art Institute of Chicago if you're curious)- I dropped out after one semester because uhhh that shit is expensive. Ended up finishing my degree at a much cheaper location in MN. That said, my art was 100% analog and 2D, and it turns out it did not translate super well into trying my hand at graphic art.

It's funny because I've been gifted really neat stuff for graphic art (like a really nice Wacom tablet and Adobe subscriptions), like people just expected my mixed-media ass would know what to do with it. NOPE! But yeah, Sims is sort of my excuse to try my hand at this stuff again, especially since I have a bit more energy now that my soul is not regularly being drained out of my body by customer service and tech support jobs.

GOAL 2: GET CRACKIN' ON ANOTHER DOOR

This one is hard because I am only on Gen 2 of the Orsons and it's sort of hard to justify starting up another story while that one is less than 1/5 of the way done.

THAT SAID, I don't plan on posting Another Door until I have a decent chunk of it done. Since it's not a casual gameplay story nor a legacy challenge, I plan on editing the bajeez out of the screenshots for it, really honing in on the aesthetic. I want it to look and feel very different from my random legacy challenge.

Fortunately, this story has been fucking up my sleep schedule for *months* now and I have a lot of the writing for it done. The hard part is translating that into the Sims, making sure I get the right poses and stuff, maybe even learning how to make some super easy CC (like, posters and stuff), and stuff related to GOAL 1 above.

What I'm saying is that it's going to take a bit. But I'm super serious about sharing it because it's my obsession and honestly the first time a story of my own design has possessed me in literal years.

Also, I want to make sure I have a significant backlog of the Orsons before I start seriously simming for it, because I don't want to screw over my favorite little pixel babies. This legacy challenge is going to be the one, I have done so much to keep my save files to keep it safe from harm (ask me how many backups I have of the save files. JK don't, the number is frankly silly).

GOAL 3: START YET ANOTHER MASSIVE CC PURGE

Y'all, my CC folder for this game is honestly an embarrassment. I go so hard on CC shopping because this community is stupid-talented and I like giving my pixel babies nice things and cool looks. When I'm bored and not quite in the mood for gameplay, I just like making neat-looking sims that I do absolutely nothing with because I love fucking around in CAS.

I have built my own PCs since I was 17 years old, and when I first built COMPUTERMACHINE (current rig) back in the autumn of 2018, it was with the goal that it would run Sims 4 flawlessly no matter what I did to it. It's got ridiculous amounts of RAM, I religiously update parts for it. And to be fair, even with the current 6,907,907,890 TB of CC I have atm it runs better than Sims 3 ever had with a measly 50 GB of CC.

But for me, it comes down to finding all the stuff I wanna use. Making myself get rid of the stuff I don't wanna use. Straight up yeeting the CC that I thought was going to look incredible that uh, didn't deliver.

I do CAS CC purges about once a year but have literally never done it for Build & Buy stuff, because OMG some of this shit I've had since 2014. Like when Sims 4 first came out. YIKES. My CAS CC obsession is notable but it's honestly nothing compared to my Build & Buy. Even before For Rent made building lots slow af, my PC was starting to take a solid minute to switch to different buy categories.

It would take a long af time so I want to make sure I have a bunch of content in the queue before I do it. It's gonna be a whole ass thing and be so, so boring to do. So I'm putting it off for when I have a ton of time to do it. Like, oh, my entire Spring Break?

GOAL 4: MAKE A FRIGGIN' RESOURCES LIST ALREADY

This would obviously need to wait until after GOAL 3 is completed, but I wanna make sure the awesome creators whose stuff I use get credit, and that people know where they can grab neat stuff. It would include not only CC but mods, Gshade/ReShade presets, and maybe even lots and sims I've downloaded from the gallery?

(Since I am super anti-paywall and very unapologetic and rude about it, I will also share where one could perhaps get some of these CCs without paying some dip a Trenta Starbucks Unicorn Frappucino amount of $$$)

It's ambitious as hell because *gestures vaguely at GOAL 3* but it would make things like doing WCIF asks and lookbooks so much easier.

Somewhat relatedly, I wanna make a navigation post, especially once Another Door starts getting posted. That story is gonna be a bit huge with multiple arcs that take place over the course of like, 14 years. Plus once the Orsons get to the 4th+ generation, it would be easier to track things down.

IN CONCLUSION...

I have been having so much fun sharing my silly little Sim adventures on Tumblr, so much more than I ever thought I would! You all have been so great to me, and all of this stuff is sort of a way for me to repay that. Ever since I stopped being able to be artistically creative ever since a really nasty depressive spell in 2017, Sims has been my #1 artistic outlet. And having people who are even somewhat entertained by my pixels is incredibly motivating.

Basically, if you read all of this, DAMN would you have been a rad livejournal follower of mine circa 2007. On the seriousness, however, thank you all so much for being rad and encouraging and sweet. I promise to do you all, if not proud, then at the very least not disappointed.

Time to hit the bong and take some pictures of Lou and Tatertot before taking my IRL doggos on a walk~

#sort of an announcement #future plans #sims 4 gameplay #tales from the irl #i love the sims community so much #promises i plan to deliver on (eventually)#playing with photoshop again #talking 'bout doing another cc purge again #posts so long you'll unfollow me (i will not blame you)#tl;dr: folks i'm gonna be doing some stuff #anyways... *bong rips*

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