#It was inspired by someone else's post about wanting to see a middle aged cat man at the bar

[invisiblequeen]

"Oh I'm sorry, you miss the catboy I used to be? Well, too bad. I'm a fucking cat man." (downs beer)

"Meow meow, mother fuckers."

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims4 #simblr #n0bodysims #sims4cas #cat man #I have been meaning to do this for a while #It was inspired by someone else's post about wanting to see a middle aged cat man at the bar #so here is my contribution to that dream #why don't some of y'all make some? #ts4

[tigirl-and-co]

Middle-Aged Man (But Not a Dad (Probably))

Heyooooo, back at it again with a super rough draft for a fic!

inspired by @dballzposting but especially THIS post!

Basic plot summary is Trunks accidentally imprinted on Yamcha like a baby bird but is too emotionally stunted from growing up with the least familial family in all of classic anime to realize that he's being weird as hell about it.

To nobody's surprise, it's a character study! Woohoo!

And before we begin, I wrote almost all of this while dead tired, so it's probably even rougher than my usual rough drafts, but good god I wanted to write this sooooo bad.

Obsession ran on both sides of his family. This was an issue for Trunks, as he'd really fucking rather be thinking about quite literally anything else. But here he was, at the get-together-slash-party-slash-ritual-to-appease-a-big-purple-cat-with-food-so-we-don't-get-blown-up, staring at his mom's ex from the other side of the dessert table.

And praying said ex wouldn't look up from the eclairs he'd never be able to afford otherwise and see Trunks' stupid, stupid eyes staring at him.

But he did.

Fuck.

"Hey, Champ! How've ya been, Buddy?" Yamcha said, in his stupid fucking aging dudebro voice that filled Trunks with an overwhelming sensation of warmth and comfort. He hated it. Yamcha smiled at him the way, Trunks thought, a dad smiles at his somewhat estranged son.

It was probably a kinder smile than his real dad gave when he hugged him for the first time. Not that Trunks would know. Couldn't really see Vegeta's face, too busy experiencing every emotion he could name and also being shoved against Vegeta's inhuman, statuesque form.

It fucking felt like being shoved face-first into a statue, too.

Not like Yamcha probably felt, with his all-too-human physique. There was a softness that covered his features, even though he was still as tough and muscular as ever.

He kinda reminded Trunks of the big blue guy from Monsters Inc. But like, less serious. And very slightly less hairy.

Trunks had been staring too long, but apparently Yamcha was willing to write off the icy glare as a genetic thing and not an actual threat, because he approached the teen with no hint of trepidation.

He stood in front of Trunks and hucked a thumb at the spread of confections behind him. "Yo, you tried the weird cream cake thing? The one covered in chocolate? No idea what it is, but it is good!"

Trunks tried desperately to claw himself out of this conversation with "It's called an eclair cake." He wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to sound that gruff. Either way he sounded too much like his dad, and it pissed him off more.

"Yo, what? They can make eclairs into cake? That's crazy!" Yamcha took pause and then nearly busted his gut, laughing a bit too loud like guys that age tend to do. "But I guess when you're rich, you can pay people to cook up just about anything!"

There! An opening! Trunks knew how to win this conversation and then make his getaway!

"Actually, Yamcha, I think it's just graham crackers, pudding, and chocolate. Pretty simple recipe. I can ask the cooks to give it to you."

Yamcha blinked. "R-Really? That's it?" He sighed. "Well, as much as I'd love to eat cake all day, I really shouldn't." He slapped his gut, which jiggled slightly. "I'm at that age where I've gotta start watching what I eat or I won't be in any shape to show off to the ladies, haha!"

Trunks immediately threw his gaze to his shoes. He fucking lost that interaction, and now he'd have to talk to Yamcha for however long the older man could stand him. Fuck. Well, Trunks knew how conversations worked. He'd seen the guys at Kame House get into it sometimes, and since Trunks was no longer a child, he figured he should talk like that. The ball was in his court.

"Ladies, huh? What... sort of ladies are you into?"

Fuckin' killed it.

~~~

Now it was Yamcha's turn to be cornered. Was it okay to be talking about that kind of stuff with a kid? With someone else's kid? With the kid of somebody he dated?

But he couldn't just say that! Trunks was at the age where he was starting to go after the ladies himself, and Yamcha didn't want to discourage that! He had to find a middle ground, hopefully there was an avenue in this conversation that wouldn't lead to either of Trunks' parents hitting his head clean off his shoulders.

"Um. Your-" NONONONO CAN'T MENTION BULMA. "I m-mean, I like women who..." and how is he supposed to word this? Obviously he's not gonna say 'pretty women' because that would sound so damn shallow, coming from him. "I like. When girls. Can stand on their own... but enjoy having someone around to make their lives easier? I guess?"

He ran his hands through the hair on the back of his head. "To be honest, kid, I'm not really sure anymore! The more I think about it, the more I realize that sometimes people you think should work don't, but the real crazy shi- the real crazy stuff ends up better." Yamcha laughed the kind of shitty laugh you let out when you're nervous and stalling for time. "What about you, Trunks? You a ladies' man? Got a preference?"

~~~

Well, Trunks had been expecting an answer like 'I like redheads' or 'I'm a boob guy' so he was a little unsure of his next move, but he had to think of something to say!

"Um idk there's this one YouTuber I like." Trunks crossed his arms. "So you like women like my mom, right? It kind of sucks that she ended up with my dad."

Yamcha couldn't move. He wasn't sure he was breathing, either. "H-Huh?"

"Yeah 'cuz you probably woulda been a way better husband. All my dad does is train all day and then sit at the table and stuff his stupid face." Trunks put his fist on his hip. "You like watching movies and being nice and shit. I dunno."

~~~

Yamcha was desperately hoping Vegeta wasn't going to manifest behind him and reduce him to ashes. The things Trunks was saying were weird, sure, but the whole family had always been blunt. Trunks probably didn't mean anything by it. Not that that would stop either of his parents from hunting Yamcha down if they heard.

And Yamcha wasn't stupid! He had issues with his own parents, way back when. It's what eventually led him to become a bandit out in the middle of the desert for Chrissake! But he had just wanted to be a dude Trunks could come talk to if he was having the sort of human troubles an ex-evil alien dad couldn't help him solve, and apparently he had been too approachable. Or Vegeta really did just suck that bad.

Either way, oops.

"Hey kid, l-listen! You can't just say things like that!" Yamcha sighed deeply, trying to compose himself. He was still looking around like a raccoon that could hear hound dogs braying, but at least he stopped stuttering.

And then he saw Trunks' face harden even further, scowling angrily. The tykebomb looked like he was barely resisting shouting his next statement, and Yamcha was very glad for that.

~~~

"I'm not a fucking kid! Goddamnit, I'm just trying to have a normal fucking conversation, why are you being so fucking weird about this?" Trunks would have been a truly intimidating sight to behold at this point if he wasn't three-foot-five with lavender hair. "And I was gonna apologize for suckerpunching you that one time when you stayed over, but you can fucking forget it! I'm glad I punched you!"

~~~

The older man knew he had to take responsibility here, because apparently he was right and neither of the kid's parents bothered to teach him the difference in how you're supposed to talk to people outside your own home.

...Thinking on it, neither Bulma nor Vegeta had ever deferred to authority in their lives. Vegeta had a habit of trying to kill anybody stationed above him, and Bulma either screamed until listened to or flashed her tits at someone until she got her way.

Fuck him, maybe he would have made a better parent! Too late now, though.

"No, Trunks, that's not what I meant," he reassured the stunted youth. "I want you to know you can talk to me about stuff, alright? But maybe- maybe not out where your parents can hear? The earth dragon balls can't bring me back again, y'know?"

Trunks looked back up, waiting to hear the rest of the statement.

"And I mean, actually you probably shouldn't say that sort of stuff, because it makes people uncomfortable, but-" here he took the chance of fucking it all up even worse and ruffled Trunks' hair. Trunks didn't even flinch and Yamcha didn't know what that meant. "We're already friends, right? And friends can totally say that sort of stuff. In private."

Trunks met him dead in the eye, unblinking and unemoting. "Okay."

Yamcha chuckled unconvincingly. It fooled Trunks, though. "So, were you actually gonna apologize for that gut punch, or...?"

"No."

"So, what? You were just gonna feel like shit about it your entire life? Until you died?"

"Yeah."

"Haha, okay then! Did... you want a slice of this, um, eclair cake? There's not a lot left!"

"Sure. Can I call you 'Uncle?'"

Yamcha tensed up just slightly, before letting it drain out of him. "Not where anybody who might tell your parents can hear, okay?"

"Deal."

#dbz #dragon babble #my writing #yamcha #trunks briefs #piccolo in the distance losing his shit like 'oh my god im so glad the kid who imprinted on me was normal' #HE WASN'T YOU WERE JUST ALSO STUNTED #fic #fanfiction #dragon ball #my eyes hurt. #LET ME BE CLEAR THAT I LOVE BOTH OF THESE CHARACTERS OR ELSE I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO WRITE ABOUT THEM #i just. love weird dynamics and fucked up characters who don't know they're fucked up #or like. they're just now sort of realizing it #but yeah alternate title is 'yamcha gets piccolo'd'

[death2normalcy]

Time for another installment of ‘Sam just needs to ramble on about her feelings because she doesn’t have close friends or a therapist to do this with and writing it out like this and posting it for pretty much no one to read helps’. That title is too long, but the point stands.

You do not have to read this. I am simply just randomly typing out these thoughts as they come to me.There probably won’t be any coherency to these, doing it this way just helps me calm down.

This specific one was inspired by a handful of things, the catalyst of which was a tiktok of someone telling me its okay to be sensitive and overwhelmed, which made me cry and send me on a slight spiral.

I was always the sensitive kid. I cried too much, I took everything personally, my cousins (the people I spent the most time with up until probably middle school) didn’t seem to enjoy that part of me too much (or most parts, but my recollection of my childhood is fuzzy at best). My family never seemed to know how to deal with it. I remember one incident where I was at a family reunion and I was crying (I was older, but not graduated from high school. Possibly middle school age? I can’t remember) and was left alone to just cry by myself. No one asked me about it, tried to talk to me.

I think maybe the way I was treated as a child when I was upset or when I was crying strongly shaped how I let people perceive me today when I’m vulnerable. If I even am.

I’ve talked about this one here, briefly, but my dad passed in May of 2016. It devastated me, understandably. But I wouldn’t show people that. I didn’t cry once in the hospital, he was hooked up to the machines for 5 days. I was there every single day. I’m not sure if this is 100% exactly how things progressed, but I think that not being able to just fully feel, and let others see my grief, caused my anger about his death to be amplified and I ended up taking that anger out on other people. Not...aggressively, not even that badly, but noticeably.

Thankfully, I’ve learned to recognize that the anger is occurring, so when my cat died in September, I didn’t let the anger take over.

Unfortunately, what’s ended up happening, is that I now get so uncomfortable and grossed out by anyone seeing me vulnerable in that way, I would rather die.

I haven’t cried in front of anyone in a very long time. I let them see the ‘safe’ vulnerable moments. Stuff that goes with my anxiety, and even that is a watered down version. My anxiety is easy. I can share that and that’s okay. But anything else is unacceptable.

I have also shut down in a way, I’ve become determined to be independent no matter what, to the point that I am desperately in need of help with some things and refuse to ask. I ask for easy things, like stuff at work. Not for financial help when I’m about to have to go without food just to get by because I don’t want to have to put off moving to South Korea for another year.

I can’t be vulnerable with people anymore. Because I was told and shown, from a very young age, that being open and sensitive and emotional was bad, That I was being dramatic. That my feelings were not valid and that I was a crybaby who needed to get over it.

Over and over again.

And honestly? I miss being soft. I miss just...being. But I’ve become so put off by it that the idea of expressing the vulnerability to anyone, ever, makes me want to throw up.

#personal #i never know what to tag these with #this is about being vulnerable and sensitive #i don't even want to talk about how i'm excessively shedding hair and it's thinning drastically and i think it may be from the stress #that losing me cat gave me #but that's a whole other thing #i should also be addressed #that there was also cases of me making friends #and being open with them #and going too far #being too much #and that was on me for sure #because i wasn't used to that kindness #and i overstepped #and started putting all my problems onto them #but i've learned from that #and unfortunately gone too far to the opposite side

[play-exy-be-sexy]

the foxes roles in the gc

Neil:

Replies when necessary or if he is in a good mood.

It's always short replies.

If it's an ongoing conversation he'll say one thing and then leave.

It usually goes something like this:

"Oh! Neil's active, hi Neil!"

"Hi, I agree with Renee."

...

"Wait, did he leave already?"

Andrew:

You probably guessed this already but he never answers.

Even if the question is directed at him he won't say anything.

Occasionally you may get a yes or no.

Or he'll like the message but that's it.

The poor foxes will always get their hopes up when his little texting bubbles show up.

But he literally just key smashes to make them think he's going to say something.

Asshole, yeah we know.

Neil finds it funny so Andrew keeps doing it.

Kevin:

Kevin won't engage in "meaningless" conversation.

If the messaging is about exy, he'll always be one of the first to answer.

But as soon as it turns to something else he's gone.

Unless it's to correct someone's spelling mistakes.

He never fails to do that.

He's constantly messaging the foxes reminders and updates and their schedules.

He texts very professionally though.

Like it's an email.

He doesn't abbreviate or anything.

Grandpa Kevin

"Good morning, a reminder to be at the gym in 10 minutes dressed and ready. Neil, if you forget your water bottle again you're running ten extra laps."

"We have a game in two days, night practice at approximately 10 p.m."

Aaron:

Aaron is worse than Andrew.

He will answer questions directed at him but only if they are very very recent and he happens to be on the group chat.

King of thumbs up

and

"OK"

Nicky:

Nicky is singlehandedly keeping the group chate alive.

He's that one person in the group chat who's constantly sending TikToks, Instagram posts, recipes, people he finds hot, Pinterest inspo boards, etc.

He's steering the conversations.

He's starting them back up when it starts to die.

He's sending cat memes 24/7.

He's ranting at 3 in the morning when no one is active.

He's giving everyone a play by play update on his day.

He's doing it all.

And we love him for that.

The others may complain about it, but they actually enjoy it.

And they know it makes Nicky happy to have people listening to him, especially when those people are his friends.

Plus, he just really loves texting and the internet.

Matt:

All the upperclassmen are active in the gc, including Matt.

I mean, it was his and Dan's idea, so they kinda have to be.

Matt types like this:

Y do u h8 me, Kev?

"Maybe, it's because you type like you are incapable of spelling out 'you'."

He's also the local meme provider.

Any kind of meme you want, Matt probably has it saved in his camera roll.

LOTS of exy memes.

He saves those for when Neil or Kevin haven't been saying anything for a few days.

Sometimes he'll get scared to send one.

So, he runs it by Dan first.

She always tells him to send them.

He's very good at finding funny and fitting posts.

Dan:

Dan is probably the most active on the gc, other than maybe Nicky.

But the foxes tend to answer her more.

No offense to Nicky...

Her captain-y privelge transfers to text too ig.

Dan will send the gc good morning texts, reminders(ones Kevin forgets about or isn't to be bothered with), articles about the foxes, workout videos, etc.

She loves sending compilations to the group chat.

Like:

"10 Times Neil Josten Flips Off teammate, Kevin Day."

"Or Matt Boyd and Dan Wilds Cutest on Court Kisses."

"Dan didn't you mean to just send that to Matt."

"NO! I thought you all would like it!"

She also sends them not so fun things.

If a bit of bad press is released she is the first to know and immediately sends it to the gc.

Also things like:

"Traffic on the way 2 court is bad, leave early."

"Crazy man on the corner by the parking lot, be careful!"

Dan is the group chat mom and we love that for her.

Allison:

Allison will not start conversations but she is always a part of them.

LOVES to start drama in the group chat.

and talk about gossip.

"did you guys see what neil was wearing today?wtf*puke emoji*"

"Allison, I can see this."

"good, maybe you'll listen to me then.*kissy emoji*"

She likes to text just in emojis sometimes.

Lots of kissing emojis.

And middle finger ones.

She also sends selfies when she feels like it.

Or when she likes her outfit.

"Allison we don't want to see your slutty outfit."

"stfu nicky, ur just jealous.*middle finger and kissy emoji*"

She doesn't type in uppercase.

Kevin is appalled.

Overall, she's a pretty standard group chat member.

But add some *richness*

Renee:

Renee does her best to stay active on the chat.

exy and non exy related conversations.

She tries to answer every one, like the sweetheart she is.

She likes to send cute things.

and motivational things.

or aesthetic pictures.

"I thought you guys would like this picture of a baby goat, have a good day!"

She tries to send good morning messages every day.

sometimes she does, sometimes she doesn't.

She tries, that's what matters.

A lot of the time the conversations are just her and Nicky.

Like in real life, she is usually the mediator when things get heated or bad.

"Allison, was the emoji really necessary?"

"reneeeee, babe, we are supposed to be on the same team!"

If she knows someone has a test or something important coming up she'll message them "good luck" on the gc.

Mainly so the others will do the same.

"Good luck on your test, Aaron!"

"Oh, yeah! You got it, man!" (Matt)

"If you pass, we can skip half our laps:)" (Dan)

"No, we will not."(Kevin)

"Literally, no one asked you Kevin."(Andrew)

"Whoa! Andrew said something!*excited squealing*" (Nicky)

*Andrew Minyard has left the group chat*

*Renee Walker has added Andrew Minyard to the group chat*

Wymack:

Matt added Wymack as a joke.

As soon as Wymack saw what it was, he left.

Nicky had the nerve to add him back though.

"Add me to this shit show one more time and I'm signing you all up for five marathons."

*sends an article about all upcoming marathons*

*Matt Boyd has kicked David Wymack out of chat*

I think this is my first super long post in ages! It started as a little post but I got inspired(which hasn't happened in a very long time either!). Anyway, I hope you like it! Also, I'm sure this has been made before so if you have done this I promise I didn't steal your idea:)

#aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #the foxes #andreil #neil x andrew #exy #also im not rereading this #so hopefully there aren't a lot of errors lol #there probably are though

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

*

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

#r's reading log #my reading log #fic rec #stucky #stucky fic rec #fic recs #stevebucky #long post

[wclovewhatismortal]

Story / Character Inspirations

As we approach the ending of the fic, I thought it might be fun and illuminating to show you guys where some of the inspiration for certain parts of my story came from. There’s a myriad of media in here - some you might appreciate, others you might not. Keep reading to find out more! (banner credit to @cinnabarts )

Let’s begin with one of our protagonists:

First off is Hollyleaf and Kate Austen (LOST):

Diane: What did you do? Does Wayne know about this? Kate: Just remember that you were here and you didn't see me, okay? Diane: Katherine! What did you do? Kate: I took care of you, Ma.

I’d be lying if I said that Kate didn’t help me flesh out Hollyleaf’s character. These characters have such stark similarities that there was no way I wouldn’t have mentally equated them. Hollyleaf and Kate are both morally grey individuals with qualms over the circumstances of their birth. The took fate into their own hands by murdering a heinous man in cold blood. Hollyleaf slit Ashfur’s throat, leaving his body to drown into the lake. Kate blew up the house of her abusive father Wayne, engulfing him in flames as he slept. Fire and water.

Both characters paid the consequences, no matter how righteous the act might’ve seemed.  Inevitably, they ran away from their families and pasts, into a tumultuous future.

(headshot credit to Kor-ka on dA)

Next in line is:

Thistleclaw and Petyr Baelish (GoT):

“You know, you remind me of another girl. Beautiful, like yourself; and intelligent, like yourself. But she wasn’t happy. She cried, often.”

If you know anything about Petyr Baelish, then you know that he’s one nasty motherfucker. So, in my mind, this was a great fit! In fact, when I wanted to learn how to better write a manipulative, child-grooming narcissist, I intentionally sought out his character to use as an example. 

Utilizing a character such as Thistleclaw always felt like toeing the line for me, but I reminded myself that he is, in fact, canonically written that way. I just took what was already there and expanded on it. I gave him a more dubious history with some milk-curdling depth. Personally, I dislike my Thistleclaw more than the canon version, and part of that is thanks to Baelish.

(headshot credit to Kor-ka on dA)

NEEEEEEXT!

Maggottail and Darth Vader (Star Wars):

“I don’t fear you!” “Then you will die braver than most.”

If you re-read Intermission II, then you will notice that I actually commandeered that quote for Maggottail to use against one of Thistleclaw’s cronies. What can I say? 

My original inspiration for Maggottail was a Vader-esque character: someone who shed their old identity, consumed by the darkness and birthed into someone else entirely. If you’re all caught up with LWIM, then you know that Maggottail’s true identity is a cat known as REDACTED. Like Vader, he’s an old man with lingering injuries (from a lightning strike... or maybe a FORCE lightning strike?) who has little to no ties left to his distant past.

Maggottail grew from there into someone else entirely. He’s a religious nut from an older age where Medicine Cats held far more power. He used that power and influence to his advantage when he usurped the leadership position in Shadowclan. His journey after that is something I’ve contemplated writing before, maybe as a post-story one shot.

(headshot credit to Kor-ka on dA)

Moving on...

The Black Rock (LWIM) and The Black Rock (LOST):

Did I take a location from LOST and turn it into a location in the Place of No Stars? Yes. Yes, I did. TBR in LOST is actually a ship in the middle of the jungle (no, I’m not explaining that). It’s filled with dynamite; likewise, TBR in LWIM is a popular place to start shit and Fight Until Someone Is Dead. As you can see, death is an outcome for both. The coincidences stop there.

(^ amazing art credited to the wonderfully talented @amande-dooce​)

~

The next one is purely based off a scene from an indie movie I saw when I was 20.

Creature: High five! Gordon: Ask why it wants a high five. Harry: Why, in your own words, do you want a high five? Creature: Because high fives... I want a high five because high fives is what man does! Gordon: Come on, keep it talking. Harry: Gordon, please let me do my job.  Gordon: Why are we here, “Brynn”? Creature: Life is a series of incomplete moments from which there is no escape. Harry: Well, that's different.

This scene from Dave Made a Maze always stuck with me. The protagonists approached a cardboard caricature of one of their friends, Brynn. The cardboard creature looked and spoke like Brynn, but obviously wasn’t her. It was some strange entity, using the fake body to entice her “friends” to come closer, close enough to reach...

Similarly, One Eye (aka the “Shadow Creature”) did the same. Come closer, and it’ll tell you everything you ever wanted to know. Too bad Hollyleaf forgot to tell Maggottail the part about not to walking further into the cave once you feel sand on your feet. Oh well. What’s done is done, right?

(art credit for One Eye to dreamtrailarcade)

Thanks for reading! If you’ve come this far, here’s a tiny excerpt from the last chapter:

For one very real moment, Sorreltail thought she was going to die.

The concept of mortality was complicated enough to those who were already dead. In spite of that, the sight of Thistleclaw’s sharp, glistening talons reminded her that this might be the last thing she ever saw. As far as she knew, there wasn’t anything else in a post-Starclan reality – just a big, empty nothingness where Sorreltail didn’t exist, and nobody else did, either.

#warrior cats #warrior cats fanfic #sorreltail #hollyleaf

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both.  The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

 The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 “Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels’ body!”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

  ---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

  Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

  ---> ---> ---> ---> ---> 

  All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun. 

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

  ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 5k+

[misdre]

misi's beyblade AUs masterpost

i like making AUs, i have many of them, here's a post of them from oldest to newest. (at least approximately) (the ones that got no art of them have photos from unsplash. i just enjoy setting the mood)

⸻⸻⸻

Magical boy AU takao is an ordinary middle schooler who one day gets dragoon the magical spinning top from a cute little azure dragon, seiryuu, and transforms into a magical boy to protect the world from evil for some cosmic reasons that i haven't come up with yet. the rest of the characters have similar powers from their holy beasts and takao needs to gather up his team to fight the evil and. you get the drill is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? no note: i originally created this just because i like designing the outfits so i haven't planned the story much (this used to be my main focus but then 4kingdoms happened GJSDHGHSDG) i'd want to though, i'll get back to it eventually...at some point...... one of the charm points of this AU is that the holy beasts are these digimon-like animals that hang out with the characters and each have their own personalities.

Fairy tale monster AU takao and gramps live in a cabin in the middle of a forest full of monsters and takao decides one day to venture out to look for a silver-haired boy he once saw, he meets up with the other BBA characters one by one in the grim woods. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: my oldest halloween fic. the characters are all these different cute spooky creatures and it's intended to sound like a fairy tale.

One day, he determined that the time was ripe: Takao decided to leave for an adventure. For his grandfather was old, it was not at all unusual for him to lay down to bed before sundown. Once the hut had fallen in drowsy silence, Takao packed his one and only bag with what little he felt he needed, took his cap and jacket, and stepped over the doorsill. He had left the safe warmth of the hut behind.

Royal fantasyverse AU (the tale of four kingdoms) takes place in a fantasy universe with four kingdoms (east, west, south & north) created by the four holy beasts, in an era where each kingdom happens to be ruled by an exceptionally young king due to their respective circumstances. when the four meet for the first time, a snowball of events is set in motion that's going to affect all four kingdoms. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 is there a fic of it? yes 1 / 2 note: like a period drama with magic and gay and tons of worldbuilding. probably has way too many mysteries for the boys to solve because i have no self control when it comes to creating twists. this is The one AU that i have crammed every usable canon character into, i need enough people to inhabit four fucking countries

After creating the four lands, the holy beasts created people to inhabit them. Because the beasts were celestial beings and couldn't but guard people and the world they lived in from far above, they needed human vessels to lead the four nations. Thus they created four kings who would rule over other people using the four beast’s powers. The four kings were neither human nor gods, but something between – they were messengers, or icons, of the four holy beasts.

Omegaverse AU a canon divergence AU (i guess??) where genders are replaced by A/B/O and everyone being either canine or feline. max is a late bloomer canine and finds out he's the only alpha of the BBA boys thanks to a certain feline omega. is there art of it? not really but i do have dog boy max and cat boy rei art (which are a bit too cute for this kinkfest. i mean they're obviously aged up for the real thing.) 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? it's been in the works for like, five years but i always shy away from finishing it note: it's omegaverse, it's exactly what you'd expect. the smut is so filthy i've been too embarrassed to even post it. hiromi is also an alpha by the way

Coffee shop AU highschooler rei goes on a venture to hit on a local Hot University Teacher and coffee shop owner judy in a cafe owned by her, ends up receiving a bunch of flirty cups of latte from barista max working there. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i mean, rei being into blonde MILFs is pretty much canon

Now that Rei looked at the boy more carefully, he realised his hair was just as fair and eyes just as blue as he knew Judy Mizuhara's to be. Maybe they were related? It wasn't that strange if Judy had hired a relative's kid to help out at the shop, right? He certainly looked American, but he had spoken Japanese. And then, all of a sudden, the boy turned to look back to him. Startled, Rei blinked his own golden brown eyes and shifted them back to his now empty cup. God, it was rude to stare at someone, wasn't it? He'd been too deep in thought to even notice doing it. Not that the boy had looked judgmental – he only seemed to wear a smile.

Soulmate AU max keeps having dreams with peculiar scenarios about a boy named rei. one day he borrows a book on soulmates from hiromi and finds a chapter talking about meeting your soulmate in the realm of dreams. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: i don't even care for soulmate AUs, this was my own dare to myself to find a single soulmate trope that interested in me enough to write a thing of it.

Max was walking through a crowded airport, carrying a heavy backpack with him. He had never been to this airport in his life, but somehow he knew exactly where he was, and where he was supposed to go. And he was in a hurry, and Rei had at some point emerged from the crowd, as usual, keeping up with him without bumping into any of the people that should have blocked his way. “I'm sorry, this is probably my fault,” Rei said. “I haven't even travelled in ages anymore, but these dreams just keep coming back to haunt me.”

Chess player AU rei is a young chinese chess champion participating in the world junior championships, ends up falling for the american chess prodigy max somehow in the process and is determined to get to play against him again. is there art of it? no is there a fic of it? yes note: so this is one of the weirder ones i've done. it was inspired simply by me having a very vivid mental image of a scene of them playing dramatic chess together. this is probably my most underrated AU even by myself, i think the writing is pretty solid for such a short story of a topic i know practically nothing about

As a child, Rei had initially been taught to play xiàngqí, a Chinese game much more popular back in his home country; but chess with its refined, uniquely shaped pieces was love at first sight for the young Rei. He was a fast thinker and had amazing concentration skills once he set his mind on something, and he also had an outstanding memory, making it easy to memorise game patterns he once saw and then use them for his advantage. This all granted him natural talent in chess. But despite his skill, he had a bad habit of easily losing his temper and becoming indecisive once his focus wavered. Also, he was just a tad bit too sentimental. These traits often became his worst enemy in important matches, much worse than the actual opposing player. Keep your cool. Focus. Play well.

Flower shop + fake dating AU yuriy doesn't really know anything about flowers but is working part-time in a flower shop for the easy cash. he keeps getting a pair of weird customers who ask about flower language for hypothetical situations. is there art of it? not by myself and i don’t have a link to the fanart made of it unfortunately is there a fic of it? yes note: did i write this for valentine's day? i feel like i maybe did. this is my only AU (and fic in general) so far that's about a non-BBA character as the main lmao

“So, I need some advice for a particular situation,” the customer then began, idly tapping the counter with his hand. “I mean, not a real situation, of course – hypothetically speaking, if someone was just pretending to be going out with another person, but they weren't really going but it just needed to seem that way to everyone else, what kinda flowers would get the message through?” Possibly an idiot, Yuriy concluded his analysis. “So you need suitable flowers for a date,” he stated, shooting his eyes at his notes about common flower-usage.

Classical music AU (the heart that i love) max is a piano prodigy attending a classical music college that holds annual music competitions for the students. he's got some haters for being the son of a world-known pianist who's one of the teachers, but he also ends up having a budding romance with rei the mysterious chinese violinist. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 is there a fic of it? yes note: the origin of this was my "max and mao are besties" college AU. then it got mixed in with my thirst for classical instruments and max being bullied.

Max isn’t exactly a synesthet, but he has always been able to see music as pictures – as entire sceneries, as great adventures. This tendency of his emerges especially strong whenever he’s learning to play a new piece on the piano; as he moves along the melody, the scenery is also being built around him like a jigsaw puzzle, creating a complete picture piece by piece; and once he has mastered the song, he’s able to freely traverse and immerse himself in the world inside that puzzle. Some pieces have a more relaxed or soothing scenery than others, some are exciting and thrilling – even deliciously sinister in the way that a good horror film can be. Setting himself down in front of a piano is always an invitation to a world of his choice.

Bakeneko AU after moving to a small rural town in japan, max hits his head and starts seeing things, such as a weird white cat following him around. after a while, he's convinced that he's being haunted. is there art of it? yes is there a fic of it? yes note: another halloween AU, a more surreal one where max is human and rei is. well. not

Max kept walking, his eyes still on the narrow road. He hadn't noticed while deep in thought, but it really was quiet that evening. The sun had nearly set by now, leaving the sky striped with the dusk of the approaching nightfall. There was no wind to rustle the treetops, no birds chirping, nothing. Only the sound of Max's own footsteps on the pavement, and the matching sound that followed. Followed. What if someone actually was following him? A sudden, violent chill struck down Max's spine, causing his hair to stand on end. He stopped. After a short delay, the steps also stopped.

Genderbend AU a canon divergence AU where everyone's a different gender from canon (duh). starts off as an alternate version of the g-revolution world championships where the girls meet for the first time and befriend each other. rei is a professional model in addition to being a blader in the baihus, and max from the PPB is delighted to be able to battle her. she has no idea that rei has fallen for her at first sight, though. is there art of it? yes 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 is there a fic of it? it's... in the works. note: i created this because i wanted to design attractive girls, what about it. absolutely partial to maxine's huge badonkadonks.

It wasn’t like Rei hadn’t already taken notice of her before, given that they were participating in the same world championship tournament, but the real turning point was the first time they stood on the opposing sides of a bey stadium. It was the day when the match-up roster signalled the match between the Chinese team and the American team, the Baihus versus the PPB All Starz; and despite both teams consisting of five players, it came down to, to Rei’s immense joy, the tag team of Rai and herself against the two most interesting US players, Rikki Anderson and Mizuhara Maxine.

Vampire & merboy AU rei is a starved vampire just about to end his own life when he meets merboy max at a forest lake. is there art of it? of max yes is there a fic of it? yes note: yet another halloween monster AU, this time they are both monsters though. this one’s a pretty grim one i have to admit

Rei succumbed into deep thought, considering his few options, when something grabbed his unsuspecting hand. Something yanked him forward in one mad splash and forced not only the rest of his arm but also his shoulders and head underwater. Half a second later Rei, so badly startled that he’d come close to slipping into insanity, found himself staring at a pair of bright blue eyes only inches away from his own face. His other hand and lower body still firmly on land, Rei pulled himself back with strength that he didn’t even know his weak body still contained. As he did, he also pulled up whatever was clutching his hand, which turned out to be another hand – a white hand with elongated, dirty fingers, so sharp at the tips that they looked like daggers.

Mafia AU max is the boss of the BBA mafia family, rei is a hitman and max's right hand man, the rest have various roles in the organisation. salima, mariam and some other girls (at least) are reporters doing investigative journalism on organised crime who get interested in covering the story of a group of russian elite detectives doing a thorough investigation of the BBA. is there art of it? of rei and max yes 1 / 2 / 3 is there a fic of it? it's in the works but it's just a gratuitous reimax smut note: this is a story i wish existed but this kind of police investigation action thing is so not my genre of expertise. that's why i'm just doing a PWP of my boys and the rest exists on conceptual level

“Did you know,” Salima said, perfectly peppy about it, “that there are secret underground auctions for stolen artwork that’s sold in the black market? Not just online auctions in the dark web but actual, physical events held somewhere in the city! Isn’t that so intriguing? Can you imagine how an event like that would look like, Max?” Max can – in fact, he doesn’t need to imagine. But he’d rather not think about it; the memories bring the familiar taste of bile in his mouth and make his gut curdle with a mixture of disgust and very particular guilt. The mere thought of it makes him set his coffee aside and bring a hand between his tightly shut eyes.

⸻⸻⸻

the next thing i come up with? who knows............

#bey things #i am only moderately insane #so i'm a person who never reads her own writing #but for this post i did. i read my old oneshots #and i wasn't disgusted by them!! actually i was rather impressed with them!!! #i didn't know such a feeling existed. to read your old writing #and be like how nice! writing of my OTP just the way i want it! #genuinely i was charmed by the soulmate AU because i'd forgotten most of it #bc i was so embarrassed about it for some reason? but it was a very nice story

[notmrskennedy]

The List

(Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral?Reader)

A/N - In order to curb the crushing weight of being bested by a vacuum cleaner at work and stressing about my calc test, I’m posting this. I hope you all like it as much as the last one. Y’all are just the fuckin sweetest. 

Also, this was inspired by @definitelynotkatesblog and her awesome work Something to Cry About. It’s the cutest freakin thing. 

Summary - A little list on what makes Reader fall asleep at night...

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - swearing, but what’s new?

----

1. A Podcast Episode on Epicurus and the Hellenistic Age

“Spencer, christ,” you laugh, fluffing your curls. “I can assure you that I am not touchy and sharing a bed won’t kill us.”

Spencer fidgets in his spot in the doorway, crossing his arms to keep from shaking too much. Is it wrong to be jealous of your casualness surrounding this? Is it wrong to wish away that massive crush he’s got? Just at least for one night—pretty please with a cherry on top.

You wait with a half raised eyebrow at the side of the bed he clearly doesn’t sleep on. Your hand poised above the comforter like it’ll make his decision any quicker. Like you can’t see the turmoil that has to be written across his face.

Because what does this mean? What does it mean to sleep in the same bed with your best friend for the first time? What if you end up snuggled up in the morning? Is that bad? Is that good? Is he totally secretly wishing that’ll happen and spur you in falling in love with him just as much as he’s fallen for you?

He glances one more time between your calm eyes, the made bed, the clock, the giant college t-shirt you’re wearing, finally back to your face. He nods. Adds in a dash of blushing. A teaspoon of agreeing words.

You shake your head, smile at him like he’s an idiot—though he supposes he is with you—and wrench the covers back. Like you belong. He wants you to belong.

There’s still time to back out and sleep on the couch. Does he really want to?

He wills his feet forward. Tries to tell himself that this is just like every night. Sets his watch on the nightstand, plugs his phone in, slips into the covers.

“Hey, bud?”

He hums as he turns his head to look over at you. He’s still sat up in bed, hand poised over his stack of books. Are you going to tell him to turn out the light?

You smile, shifting your weight ever so slightly. You’re the restless sort and he wonders how you work the boring middle management job that you do. Pulling your lips back into a nervous smile, you gently say, “I can’t fall asleep to the quiet, do you mind if—“

“Do you want me to read to you?”

He hopes the excitement goes unnoticed. It seems to as you chuckle. “I wish it would work. You’re too interesting, Spencer Reid. Podcasts on Hellenistic philosophy however—do you mind if I listen? It won’t be too loud.”

He shakes his head. “Not at all.” Never for you.

“Thanks, Spence,” you chirp through a stifled yawn. And as you turn the podcast on and flip over to press tightly onto the pillow, you say, “and don’t worry. I promise I keep to my side of the bed.”

And unlike the liar he wishes you are, he wakes up to find that you are very true to your word.

2. Discovery Chanel, Documentary on Revolving Door Manufacturing

He’s never seen you cry before. You make it a point to keep saying between sobs, “I hate crying in front of other people. I’m so sorry.”

He can’t fathom why it’s you that’s sorry, not after you asked him to pick you up from your mother’s. The same mother who’s apparently found it within her purview to explain just how much she hates you over a nice dinner. He’s buzzing with anger on your behalf—anger that clearly isn’t shared, though he knows it’ll come later.

It takes roughly 20 minutes to get you over the hill, trading tears for tissues. Snot for begrudging smiles at his bad jokes. He’s promised himself that he will listen—for once in his goddamn life—to your whole story without interrupting. You seem to appreciate the sentiment, punctuating the whole experience with asking for one of those hugs that just never ends.

You try to explain it—“like cats, Spencer, you know?”—like he doesn’t already empathise completely.

And weirdly enough, it gets to a point where you two switch positions without breaking the crushing amount of contact you have. It gets to a point where you insist on watching the most boring documentary he’s ever seen on revolving door manufacturing. It gets to a point where you pass out after 15 minutes and turn over into his chest.

He doesn’t dare move. Not until he’s effectively sure you won’t be waking up anytime soon. Spencer falls asleep with your soft breath fanning across his chest and his hands tangled in your hair.

5. A Librivox Recording of ‘The Five Orange Pips’

Now this is ridiculous. And he says as much as you roll your eyes. You’re both sweaty and exhausted and he’s sure he’s never met someone who looked this awake after a romp at one AM. Your eyes are twinkling the same way someone does after they’ve run a mile and feel like they need to run another. You’ve got energy and he can’t fathom it.

“Spencer,” you whine, falling back into the bedsheets. It’s really the first official time you’ve spent at his house as more than a friend—much more. He’s gotten accustomed, understanding even, to the little podcasts you listen to to fall asleep. There’s no sense in understanding your sleeping habits, not yet at least, but he understands the boring, droning voices you let lull you to sleep.

But this! Sherlock Holmes?

“Y/n, I literally have the story on my bookshelf. I could read it to you if you’re so choosy!” he mirrors your position with a huff, already reaching out to drag you over into his side. The feel of your skin is addictive. The safest kind of high he can get. The only one he really wants.

You pout, sticking out your lip. It’s adorable and breaks the tweak of frustration resting hard in his features. “Love-bug, with you talking to me, I’d never fall asleep. It just doesn’t work like that and I don’t make the rules.”

“Fine,” he mutters, effectively pulling you close enough you can share the one pillow. You giggle, kiss his nose, and reach behind you for your phone. It takes five seconds for the Librivox recording to start and he realises that as he listens to the intro, he’s already dropping off. It’s understandable—he guesses—but he hopes that one day you’ll pick a story he hasn’t read already.

9. News in Slow Spanish

Listening to you get ready for bed will never be tiring, Spencer thinks. Not when he’s playing a game with himself. He’s so terrible at guessing what you’ll choose to listen to. There’s never any rhyme or reason. Never a solid thought process that he can decipher. He’s kept to making a list—half because he likes lists, half because he wonders how long it’ll get.

Four months in and he’s at number 9—more or less.

This one shocks him though. Has him poking his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush still stuck in his mouth. You’re pulling your hair out of a pony tail, humming along to the intro music for a newscast in Spanish. Do you speak Spanish?

“Sugar plum—“ he loves every weird nickname you’ve given him over the months— “I can hear the whine of your brain from here.”

It’s then you turn to really look at him. Smirking. Gleaming in the shadows of the bathroom light. Wearing nothing more than a sports bra and shorts. His mouth runs dry as he tries to keep his thoughts present and clean.

He takes the toothbrush from his mouth. You giggle as he speaks through the spit. “Do you speak Spanish?”

“I must not talk about work enough,” you mutter to yourself, slipping into bed. Like you belong. “My entire job is setting up relationships between the hotel company I work for and Latin American, well, anything. Hotels, river cruises, restaurants—I speak Spanish more than I do English some weeks.”

He nods, finishes brushing his teeth to process the thought. No, you don’t talk about work enough, and he’s suddenly worried about what you don’t talk about. It suddenly feels suffocating. Like he doesn’t know a single thing about you. Like he’s never known anything about you.

But as you drag yourself into his side once he’s beside you, as you kiss his cheek and settle in, he’s reminded that he doesn’t need to know everything to care. For you to care back. There’s enough time in the world to figure out all the other stuff. He’s content to learn as it comes. Appreciate every new thing he can get his hands on.

And, hey, if you listen to this podcast enough, he might learn Spanish too.

11. Whose Line is it Anyway? Reruns

“No, absolutely not. I’m putting the kibosh on this. The applause will drive me wild. Please, y/n, anything else.”

15. Spencer

If there hadn’t been a nightmare involved, it wouldn’t have been as terrifying to find you not in bed. To hear the door latch click with someone’s arrival. Or someone’s departure.

He’s out of bed before he can process. Before his brain can calm down enough to remind him that it’s fine. That there’s no way a burglar is going to be as loud as you’re being in the next room over.

He jumps out of the bedroom, ready to strangle the intruder with his bare hands, when you give a startled shout, “Jesus christ!” 

Spencer settles. Realises that it’s just you in a sweatshirt and slippers. You look utterly exhausted in the dim light of the apartment. Fidgeting and restless despite the slump to your shoulders. He vaguely wonders if he should make you a pot of coffee to calm you down.

The world catches up to him and he slumps into the wall. Is it so wrong to be this decidedly tired after a nightmare that he could’ve sworn wasn’t coming back? The two of you stare each other down, both equally apprehensive to the other for decidedly similar reasons.

Spencer’s entire body is beginning to light on fire. He doesn’t want to burn you in the process.

You’re buzzing and tired and angry and there’s no reason to take any of that out on him.

“Can’t sleep?” he finally prompts.

You scrub your hands over your face, fluff your curls, in response. “I walked the stairs four times, bug. I’m so—“

“Frustrated?”

“Yes.”

He nods his head, waves you over. You half heartedly trudge over to him, lean your head into his chest and feel at least a tiny amount of frustration drift away. He pulls you both back to bed—he can’t believe he’s functioning this well, but maybe it’s just because he’s fulfilling the need to think about anything else. There’s a hesitance as you lay back down and he knows that you’ve probably tried everything. That you don’t believe you’ll get any sleep at 2:45 in the morning.

“You’ve worked through the list then?” he asks. Your eyebrows pinch as you settle onto your side, giving him your full attention. “The things that make you fall asleep,” he clarifies, “you know, that list.”

“Do you—do you keep a list?” your voice is almost judgemental, but decidedly too curious. He nods. “I’ve never had anyone care that much.”

“So where are you at?” he says instead. There’s too much to unpack. Too much for his still swimming brain. He needs something concrete. “What’ve you tried?”

You go through your list, letting every inch of agony you’ve faced for the last four hours creep over your face. Spencer watches as you turn over one more time and groan into the pillow. “I think I’d rather just suffocate at this rate.”

He chuckles. “Stop being dramatic. Come here, let me try something.”

“But—“

“Just—please, y/n?” he doesn’t understand your refusal to trust him sometimes—it’s always about such strange things, like how he does the dishes or what brand of milk to buy. You scoot over to him, settle into his chest with an indignant huff. As if you aren’t tightening around him like a vice.

He clears his throat, drags his fingers softly up and down your spine, and picks the most boring thing—for you at least—he can think of to recite: quantum physics. He feels you relax after a minute. Your eyes close and your nose sinks a little deeper into his shirt. It takes nearly two chapters to get you to zonk out. Long enough that he’s worried you were right, that he was just too interesting for you. Even if he was reciting quantum physics literature.

He keeps droning for a little time after he thinks you must be—have to be—asleep. And just as he settles, just as his eyes are closing and he could drift off peacefully, he doesn’t miss the ever quiet, ever gentle words, “You’re too interesting, Spence, too goddamn interesting.”

You roll over, your back pressed against his side. He wants to laugh. He doesn’t, just ends up dreaming of something nearly as peaceful as falling asleep beside you.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #Criminal Minds

[crowstan]

Sanders Sides post except I haven't seen it before

Ok this post is inspired by an absolute flood of Patton and Logan in a skirt, on my Instagram, which was not anything related to any of the dnd or homestuck tags but whatever. That whole mess that happened yesterday inspired this, because as y'all know: I love analyzing things weirdly and what is blogging but analyzing your own thoughts in an odd way? Anyway, spoilers ahead because this is what I've unfortunately been leaked, which means I got this stuff via spoilers.

What is Sanders Sides? So, I actually have no idea and I want to go in bare bones because. I never get to go in with little info. All i know is that it's by Thomas Sanders (he apparently does have a tumblr, I did not look up what it was because, once again, trying to get the barest and best experience I can and I worry that may taint it in some way). All I know about Thomas is that he did vines that I really like and that he has his pronouns in all of his bio's, which so far makes him very ok in my books because I have not met one person who is in any way harmful to others who has their pronouns in their bio. Then again i don't see it often anyway but regardless. And that's literally all I know about him and Sanders Sides, so. Stuff that I have worked together with the unhealthy amount of spoilers I didn't willing get that made me want to make this. -They are all symbolic or are humanoid versions of like, different parts of someone? They're also color coded which my little color coding heart loves sm! There's morality, creativity, creativity #2: electric boogaloo, logic, anxiety, and deciet which may also be denial? not sure about the last bit. -Morality's (moralities?) name is Patton, and his color is light blue. He is the dad character and is bad with any "negative" feelings, which, mood. He is one of the sides i saw in a skirt and may be my favorite possibly, simply bc I Do Not Have Good Male Figures and he's a dad character. Name a better duo than good dad characters and my lack of any positive guys in my life that aren't my age. He's part of the "core four", whatever that means. Really likes animals? I mean that does make sense bc, morality, but also that's different for each person. overall conclusion: now my dad. (/j) -Next up: Anxiety. Name is Virgil (?), color is a shade of purple. Don't know what one bc purple is one of those colors i can't remember too well. Seems like how I imagine my anxiety but a little less focused on death. I would befriend him were in not for the fact I Cannot approach people unless I'm actually dying and even then I can't. Apparently was a "dark side" at some point but now isn't? Redemption ark ig, idk what a dark side is or if it would be equivalent enough with "evil" to have that be a redemption ark. Final conclusion: wait, is that me but cis and let loose in a hot topic? -Creativity #1. Name is Roman, color is red I think. A prince character, and I'm not sure what else to add. I think he is a theatre fan, amd also I would avoid him at all costs because as friendly as he is, we don't have the same vibes and i would panic. Definitely drinks his "respect women" juice, and it's actually "respect women" juice n not whatever the hecc it is that people who /say/ the drink "respect women" juice drinks. he'd go out of his way to make sure your drink doesn't get spiked. this man is hella good, 10/10, would trust but not talk to. -Creativity #2, apparently the brother of Roman? His name is Remus, color is green, and i say this with my full heart: I love him. he seems like the kind of person who barked at people in middle school bc he thought he was a werewolf. who drank an entire bottle of glue in kindergarten at had to go to the hospital and did it again. he's the kind of person who would offer you up a worm and tell you disturbing facts about animals and then go off and play his little games he made up with twisted scenarios. and you know what? that's amazing and i absolutely love that so much. I know nothing about him except he eats deodorant and is the embodiment of intrusive thoughts and "oh god /why/" scenarios you thought of for some reason. -Logic. Name is Logan, ah, really similar to what he represents but I mean, still a very good name. His color is dark blue, aka my favorite color besides dark grey. Really likes jam? I feel like this man has read the dictionary and has "different vocabularies" he uses for different events and people, which may be a self projection but. Def Ravenclaw vibes bc!! hear me out!! not stereotypes!! I feel this man, the literal *embodiment* of logic, would value learning and knowledge which is part of what makes a ravenclaw! so it is not self projection, it is *knowledge* (/hj). that's it, i would absolutely love to debate him sm but i feel like that would be similar to that time i talked about Quadrants with a friend for an hour and they had no idea what was going on at all.

-Last one, deceit/denial. I don't know if he's denial as i got that from a little comic that i thought was funny because it had a pun. His name is Janus (don't know how to pronounce it, been saying it like Jay-Nuhss), and his color is yellow. apparently part snake or something and!! I love snakes. Apparently was in a courtroom at one point, and we all know those are fae territory, so possibly a fae (hj). apparently has multiple arms!! which does not fit in with the snake bit, as snakes have zero arms, but regardless still cool! I know the least about him, and I'm definitely looking forward to watching him!! i love snakes sm.-

moving on from the sides slightly, apparently there's another one, who's color is orange! from someone who vaguely knows about colors but knows enough that each side more or less relates to their color, i have no idea what this side could be! best guess is it's just Thomas in a top hat. I never learned about orange because orange, yellow, some reds, and some blues are very stabby to my eyes and i will get a headache so I just. never learned it. why would i learn about a color i literally can't look at without my eyes hurting? I do know orange is a caution color, and in nature it cam be found on dangerous stuff as a "stay away!" color, and pared with black it doesn't kill my eyes and those are the Halloween colors. So maybe caution? Or some dangerous thing? It doesn't make sense, as those aren't really "sides" in the traditional sense, nor with anxiety being a sort of "caution" thing. Anyway, I would need more info on orange and, depending on how the orange color is, i may react more negatively. Like with blue Christmas lights.

-there are lots of puns!! i love puns!! i don't take the opportunity to make many, but i love them sm. just like snakes! and cats! in fact i actually know a lot about cat behavior

lmao that's literally all i have, I'll go watch the whole series and also talk about that later in smaller posts, each post being one or two episodes depending on how long it is

(ah jeez it got all messed up again, under maintenance!! sorry about that!! the tags got all mixed around too!!)

(update #2: still messed up but I'll need to not use my tablet to fix it, which i can't do rn! sorry y'all :(!! )

#oh yeah my brain makes the wrong soup a lot!! yeah I've kinda adapted to it no worries! #oh ok! i hope you... brain makes better soup. #and then you get a feeling of #sanders sides #ts spoilers #i dont know if im tagging these right? #i sure hope i am #spoilers are not good for your soul unless you want them! #also format is funky #that's because i had to write it in note #on my tablet #and post this using the desktop version of tumbler #also on my tablet #which is really buggy and likes to mess things up a lot #date is December first 2020 #to be fair about sanders sides i have never actually watched it but I've seen a lot of it and seeing patton in a skirt? #listen #*everyone* looks good in a skirt ok #it just clicked that it was thomas sanders #and i loved his vines #and imo that is hella quality content and so? i had to watch #weird ass logic but i mean. pretending my anxiety is just my a humanoid version of my brain and it keeps making soup #but the bad kind of soup #helps me somehow #and them i immediately panic and have a small lock down about the interaction #did they understand what i meant?? did i confuse them?? am i faking it?? isn't it more of a gravy?? what if they hate me?? oh no they're pr #n then oh n o" for the next five hours #or until something like that happens again #which it will #because it simply *will not* shut up

[infraaa]

An OC Introduction:

Emelia Tran Ludenburg

Technical Information

Name ~ Emelia Tran Ludenburg

Japanese Signature ~ エメリア

Other names ~ Butterbean (Murphy+Skye) Softie (Poppy+Raymond) Chérie (Marshal) Pumpkin (Judy)

~~~~

Biological Information

Age ~ 20

Sex ~ Female

Pronouns ~ She/Her

Birthday ~ 6 May

Star Sign ~ Taurus

Species ~ Human

Height ~ 5’4” - 163 cm

Weight ~ 133 lbs - 60 kg

Skin Tone ~ Porcelain (It looks blueish grey in the moonlight.)

Eye Color: Magenta/Red (It’s more pink than red.)

Hair Color/Length ~ Black, shoulder length, curly

Body Type/Figure ~ Average Build, Hourglass

Blood Type ~ B+

Ethnicity ~ Asian American (Germanic Descent)

Personality Type ~ Normal/Snooty Mix

Description

Emelia Tran Ludenburg is the representative of the Island of Chronisse, a small, yet developing island located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. She is described by the villagers that live there to be hardworking, considerate, shy, and just a bit dark. She holds a serious and cunning reputation, similarly to that of a stern mayor. However, she holds those close to her... close. And dear to her are the ones that matter. She strives for perfection at every angle, but can’t help but make a mistake every now and again.

~~~~

Statistics

Island Name ~ Chronisse

Position ~ Representative

Island Evaluation ~ ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ (last checked 30.3.21)

Current Inhabitants

Raymond (Arrived via Campsite)

Judy (Found on a mystery island)

Poppy (Arrived via Campsite)

Marina (Found on a mystery island)

Murphy (Arrived via Campsite)

Skye (Found on a mystery island)

Marshal (Arrived via Campsite)

Merengue (Arrived via Campsite)

Axel (Bought an empty plot)

Stitches (Arrived via Campsite)

~~~~

Relationships

*Note ~ Any Animal Crossing works I post portrays the villagers as their gijinkas. Their human forms.

Raymond ~ Friendship Level 6

Raymond arrived last August right after the campsite was established, being the first one to arrive. (Yep. I’m telling the truth. Right before my birthday too.) When Emelia first saw Raymond, she knew who he was right away. How could she not know who he was?! She begged asked Tom to let him live in Chronisse just minutes around maybe a few hours after speaking to him. Although it may seem as though Raymond makes her swoon, it’s rather the opposite. He intimidates her, but that fills her stomach with butterflies. They have similar auras and similar interests in mind. He just melts her little goth heart! On his end, she’s a hardworking human who entertains him nonetheless. He can’t get enough of her, watching her carry on with her everyday business and offering to help at times, which flusters her.

Poppy ~ Friendship Level 6

Poppy arrived in January of 2021 when she went out time traveling, making her the second villager to arrive. Emelia thinks of Poppy like a sister, always there for reassurance and advice. She labels her to be the brains of the island, despite her claiming otherwise. Emelia took her advice on creating LGBT inspired fireworks for the upcoming summer, and she’s thrilled to see them. Emelia, in Poppy’s eyes, is just how she calls her— a softie! Soft and beautiful. She looks up to Emelia, sometimes complimenting her on her work with the island or helping her with nature esque furniture. She remembers on her birthday when she gave her a close line and several tops, including a shirt that was made up of the colors of the lesbian pride flag. She could never thank her enough for that.

Judy ~ Friendship Level 6

Judy was found in a mystery island in October, making her the third to stay. Out of all the girls, Emelia feels as though she can relate to Judy the most. (Minus the bitchiness that exudes from Judy but-) Judy and Emelia share the same fashion sense, which is why she prefers to go shopping with her. What really gets to Judy though is what she can do with Emelia’s emotions. She loves to mess with her and her love admiration for Raymond. So what does she do? She invited Raymond along on ther shopping sprees from time to time. But really, Judy knows Emelia well. She knows she wants to show off. She wants to help her with her confidence, the same way that Emelia does. They’re confidence boots for each other.

Murphy ~ Friendship Level 4

Murphy arrived November using the campsite, the fourth villager to come by. See, Murphy is an older guy. Emelia doesn’t hang around him often, but he’s nice to be around. He gives good advice to her and he helps out around the island without being asked. When she saw that he was interacting well with the other villagers, she investigated him herself. He seemed trustworthy, despite the fact he nags and complains a lot. Raymond got involved with him which really peaked her interest, so she invested more time in him. Murphy likes the fact she’s spunky, but worries for her at times when she overworks herself. He offers her food sometimes and a place to relax when he sees she’s a bit tired or sore. Being a bit of a tsundere, Murphy can’t say he enjoys her company, because he does. Overall, they don’t interact as often as one would prefer, but they do get along.

Skye ~ Friendship Level 5

Skye is the fifth villager, she was found in November on a mystery island. She doesn’t know what attracted her to Skye, but they clicked. Maybe it was her innocent appearance? The combo of chocolate brown and aquamarine? Her friendly yet intimidating nature? No one knows. However, they do get along nicely. Skye almost thinks of Emelia as a good friend, whereas Emelia thinks of her as an older sister figure. She’s got a wolf like personality. She may be calm and aloof, but she can pack a punch if need be. That’s what she likes about her. Skye finds everything that her island’s rep does to be very caring, yet she worries for her at times. She once told her that sometimes she doesn’t seem to understand how hard she works herself and her body, and that it would be a good idea to relax for a while. Take some time for yourself, she said. Nevertheless, Emelia had one goal in mind... she was looking for someone... Skye admired her perseverance but gosh...

Marshal ~ Friendship Level 5

Snow was falling on the night he arrived, the sixth villager to move in. He came around December, just days before Christmas. Upon seeing him, she nearly had a panic attack. She remembered wanting to have an elite island populous. Now was her chance! For months, she had been searching for this man. (For real. I’m telling the truth. This man was exhausting to find and he has the audacity to—) Emelia then made it her personal mission to try and get him over. She succeeded, after a few hours of begging and pleading and bargaining conversation. She treats him and Raymond like kings, and unlike Raymond, Marshal returns her behavior. He drinks his juice and presents himself to be the island’s himbo. She loves him for this. She remembers in New Years Eve when they were both waiting for the clock to run out and he hugged her when the clock ran out. She never felt more flustered in her life. Overall, they treat each other like royalty. Best coffee mates.

Axel ~ Friendship Level 1

A jock...? The seventh villager to arrive in early February. and she can’t stand him already. She thought she could take Kid Cat, which he was fine. But this man? He’s too big and too brooding for her to handle sometimes. She could be just setting a cute little cafe up by her flower gardens, and she would see him and shiver. She doesn’t really like jocks that much. She wishes to find Dom though, but other than him that’s about it. Axel doesn’t really know a lot about her because she never talks to him, but he does find her pretty cute. Small and dainty. When he sees her speak to Raymond or Marshal, he pours because of how “weak” they are compared to him. It’s not that she doesn’t like Axel, it’s just that she feels as though she’s a little too intimidated by him, to an overwhelming degree.

Stitches ~ Friendship Level 4

She loooves Stitches! He came by in Late February, the eighth villager for her to meet. She saw him and felt a little warm on the inside. He warms her heart with his innocent sleepy nature and his baking expertise. A good ol’ mama’s boy! She pats his head and he melts. Stitches looks up to Emelia as though she was a mother duckling. He tries to imitate her sometimes, to which those imitations go completely wrong and she ends up having a good laugh. Emelia however sometimes stops and ponders at how Stitches can be so carefree and laidback. She gets jealous at time to time when it comes to this behavior if his, and sometimes wants to be like him, but she knows she has priorities to fulfill. Until that day comes, she’ll continue to cheer Stitches on from afar, like the good boy he is.

Marina ~ Friendship Level 3

Marina is the ninth villager to call Chronisse home, arriving in early March after being found on a mystery island. She reminded her of Poppy, so she brought her over. Now she started a little group comprised of Skye, Poppy, and now Marina. The normal trio. Her love for the color pink intrigues her yet freaks her out. How much pink does one need? She thinks she’s sweet though, with her cute sweatshirts. Marina finds Emelia to be strong yet kind, and a force to be reckoned with. Although she has to thank her for allowing her to meet Poppy, (refer to my headcanons for that,) she’s about to realize that this is just the beginning of a relationship bound to blossom, if she’s willing to work with Emelia that is.

Merengue ~ Friendship Level 2

Merengue is the tenth villager to show up. She showed up in Mid March. She just met Emelia, so she doesn’t really have a lot to say about her. But when she listens to everyone else minus Axel, she wonders if she’ll believe them. Emelia tries so very hard to appeal to Merengue, however, it may take some time before she can say that she’s her friend. Like Poppy, she was apprehensive at first when meeting Emelia, due to her aura and overall appearance. However, when noticing her softer nature, she began to soften around her just a bit. We’ll just have to let time decide on a true answer. Maybe in time things will turn up.

~~~~

Another OC intro, done. This is my Animal Crossing OC... one of them. I have another one, but I’m nervous about presenting her. Maybe one day after I tweak her up a bit. Until then... ✨😊

#oc #my ocs #animal crossing #acnh marina #acnh merengue #acnh poppy #acnh raymond #acnh marshal #acnh murphy #acnh skye #acnh judy #infra’s cast #infrawrites #acnh emelia

[just-panda]

It's funny that this picture would pop up for me around Mother's Day. I schedule posts for Five Lens Photography way in advance and this is one I just scheduled. So I was inspired to write about it. But first, let me explain what's going on here. The bird on the left is a Song Sparrow. The bird on the right is a Brown-Headed Cowbird. Brown-Headed Cowbirds typically lay their eggs in other bird's nests. The moms never make a nest for their babies, instead opting out of that part of parenthood and leaving it up to someone else. A lot of people hate Brown-Headed Cowbirds for this reason. But she takes a lot of time picking out a suitable foster mom for her baby. Some birds notice the BHC egg right away and knock it out of their nest or build another nest on top of it. But this Song Sparrow took this baby under her wing. She's feeding this baby that is obviously not hers and she doesn't have to do that. Look at the picture, like really look at it. It's beautiful especially after you know the backstory.

Sometimes motherhood is nontraditional. I really think it's important for people to not only acknowledge this but to also accept it. It's not fair to assume that only women who have been pregnant and given birth are considered mothers. It's not always the case. I remember seeing a debate about whether or not women who gave birth via C-section are "real" mothers, like vaginal birth is the one and only way. Excuse me? Both ways are terrifying and risky for both mother and baby. If this is what it's come down to, like this is what we're fighting about then I guess there is no hope for someone like me.

I knew at a young age that I wouldn't be a mother, at least not in the traditional sense. My stepmom was pregnant with my youngest brother when I was 15 and she told me the realities of what some women go through while pregnant. I also remember my senior year in high school in anatomy class where our teacher told us in excruciating detail what happens to a woman's body when her water breaks. I had decided then and there, or so I thought. I told my own mother that I wasn't going to have any children. My mother, who had me at age 37, was ready for grandbabies. She probably would've had them if my oldest brother hadn't died. We'll never know.

My mother was one of the people telling me I would change my mind about kids. I would want them someday (spoiler alert: she was right). She told me childbirth is the most forgettable pain. She told me the reason women are here is to bring more children into the world. I was appalled. I was like "wait a minute, what about me?" What. About. Me. At the time, I thought I knew what I wanted: a demanding career with lots of opportunities for travel. I really did.

Fast forward. At age 19, I fell in love. I thought we wanted the same things. I wanted a child badly for the first time ever. I knew I would be a good mom. For the first time, I wanted to be a stay at home mom. I can't explain to you why I felt this way. I think apart of it was loneliness. At this point in my life, I didn't want to be seen. I just wanted to be at home; I didn't want to go out. I figured if I had a little one to take care of, there would be less opportunities to go out. I am thankful everyday I did not get pregnant at this time because there is no way I was ready to take care of a child.

My early 20s, I got married. I wasn't on any form of birth control and I never had been and honestly, it's a miracle I never did get pregnant. I was open to the idea of child. I had a big pregnancy scare in the early stages of dating my ex-husband. I was scared, deeply afraid but eventually I grew comfortable with the idea. I counted the weeks and found that my baby would be due in March. It would be a March baby, like me. I did copious amounts of research about pregnancy and I still carry some of this knowledge. I felt like maybe the baby was a boy. We had names picked out. I was sure. Then one day, all the symptoms disappeared just as quickly as they came. I never went to a doctor to find out but I believe what happened to me was an early miscarriage, a super early miscarriage. I was devastated.

If I'm being completely honest, this was a blessing in disguise. If that baby had come to be, they would be six years old. Just finishing kindergarten. I cannot imagine what that would be like. I ended up with a man who has two daughters and his youngest will be six soon. If my baby had come to be, we would had two kids potty training around the same time. We would have had two kids going through their "terrible twos" and "treacherous threes" together. Sometimes I do let myself entertain the idea that I had this baby...and what our lives would look like. It's hectic and crazy.

So, no. No kids came out of this body and if I can help it, none will. I have a huge list of reasons why and I'm not explaining myself. Do I know what it's like to carry a child? No. Honestly, a dream of mine is to carry a child for someone else. I know what it's like to help raise a child. I do it all the time. I have bottle fed, potty trained, comforted, cooked, sang, danced, taught, celebrated, anything you can think of that a mother would do, I've done it, except the biological stuff. What I don't know is what it's like to carry one. And I know there are so many people out there who wish they could.

One time I wrote that Mother's Day is the day that I realize with startling clarity that I am a parental figure until I'm not. I am a parental figure until Mother's Day and then I am not. I have people ask about my stepdaughters all the time but do they wish me Happy Mother's Day? No. There are people who treat me as a parental figure, admonishing the girls that they should listen to me, but do they wish me Happy Mother's Day? No. Within the confines of my home, I am a parent. I am not called "mom" or "mommy" or any variation and I wouldn't allow it anyway. I just wanted to be an adult they felt safe around. They consider me a stepmom and it's known. It's celebrated. I love it. But it hurts when there are people who know our day-to-day lives and still don't consider me worthy of a simple Happy Mother's Day. It hurts to know I spend way more time with the girls than they do and yet I'm nothing but a girlfriend, an accessory.

People in nontraditional parent roles...I see you. I hear you. You are not alone. Sometimes parenthood looks like children you are not related to bouncing on their toes because you're home. Sometimes it looks like quiet warnings in public to stay together and the resounding, no questions asked response: "okay." Sometimes it looks like getting on the floor to play. Sometimes it's holding a child who is too shy and scared to interact with others at her own birthday party and you're the only one she will cling to. Sometimes it's a gray cat curling up between your feet in the middle of the night. Sometimes it's three animals excited about the prospect of getting a nightly treat. I have to remind myself that I'm doing okay, that I'm doing my best. I try to look past the hurt and confusion I feel and be present. Kids always know who is there and who isn't. They will know that I was there.

#motherhood #birds #mamabirds #BabyBirds #nontraditionalparenting #women #stepparents

[imagine-organization-xiii]

Organization XIII - As Cats

I was inspired by two things: the first was this post by boodalinski because I was watching the kill count on youtube and happened to come across it while scrolling through the tumblr tag for Friday the 13th.

I was also inspired by a fanfiction by nyargles called Phil Coulson is Not a Crazy Cat Lady - an MCU fanfic with the avengers as cats, which was fairly entertaining and I highly recommend if you’re an MCU fan.

oOoOo

Buy me a coffee here! (now with an updated and working link)

oOoOo

Xemnas

Xemnas was your first kitty, a regal black feline that had a look in his eyes that said he was a lot smarter than everyone around him.  The old lady you adopted him from couldn’t tell you how old he was, only that she had him for years and that he really didn’t seem to age and didn’t act like an elderly cat. She promised that he was mostly self-sufficient and, honestly, came and went as he pleased, which he does.

You can go days sometimes without seeing Xemnas. You’ll refill his food and water bowls because the contents steadily disappear and there’s evidence that he’s been using the litter box, but you don’t actually see him even when you search high and low through the house.

There’s nothing that you can do. He is the king of your house and he will make it known. When he does bother to show his face, he watches your ever move, obviously judging everything you do. Gets pissed if you don’t give him the highest quality of food - wet. salmon. only. or he’ll just refuse to eat and meow at you like a little asshole until you give in.

Does not get along with the other cats you eventually adopt. He acts as though they’re business partners and gets some of them to do his bidding.

That cat that would stand next to that expensive glass vase that your mother gave you and slowly reach out his paw while you’re like “don’t you dare,” and he’ll just blink slowly at you like the little asshole he is before he pushes the vase to the floor and lets it smash into a hundred pieces.

Xigbar

Xigbar was a wild stray when you first found him lurking on the roof near your rain gutters. His hair was long and matted and he had more scars across his body than any animal should ever have, but he had a surprisingly good attitude when you clicked your fingers and enticed him with cat treats. Turns out the treats were useless, because he just took one look at you and the treats, turned his nose up at you, hopped down from your roof and waltzed past you just to head directly to your front door, meowing in annoyance until you let him inside.

Didn’t mind it when you dragged him into the bath, meowing wildly at Xemnas from where your first cat perched himself on your bathroom counter, watching with an intense eye that almost made you uncomfortable. Xigbar, however, didn’t put up a fight against the water and happily allows you to scrub at the dirt and grime in his fur.

This little asshole gets into everything. You can lock the cabinets and the doors and put padlocks onto the bags of treats but somehow still manages to eat his way through a whole bag of cat food and treats and oh god the bag of catnip like the rat bastard he is.

Xaldin

Xaldin is a large fluffy cat with the darkest hair you’ve ever seen - hair that seems to get tangled no matter what you do, so you need to keep him brushed constantly because he’ll go absolutely ballistic if you try to get it trimmed by a groomer to make it more manageable.

His hair gathers static electricity like whoa, so be prepared to get a static shock if you get close to him, which happens a lot because he gets in moods sometimes where he loves cuddles? But he doesn’t want you to know he loves cuddles. He’ll plop his ass in your lap and expect you to give him a few cuddles and squeezes before he’s done for the day and goes about doing whatever else he does.

A jealous cat, like horribly jealous whenever you pay one of the other cats more attention than him. He needs a lot of affection even though he’ll fight you tooth and nail through it all. He wants to be an independent kitty, okay, but he gets lonely easily, so don’t be surprised if he sneaks in to your room at night to sleep at the foot of your bed and somehow ends up half on top of your pillow with you.

Vexen

A cat that is on the uglier side because of a surprisingly pointed face with a nose that is always up in the air. He has a constant pout and is on the older side, even though you’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly how old he was.

Talks a lot. Meows at you, at the other cats, at himself, at walls, at empty air, at his toys, at everything. He never shuts up. His meow sounds like the disgruntled croak of someone who smoked eighteen packs of cigarettes a day, literally one of the ugliest meows you’ve ever heard in your life.

But that’s okay!!! He isn’t the most handsome cat in the world but by god he’s so smart and endearing. You can’t believe how intelligent he is. He’s the one who locates all of the treats and catnips, Xigbar tears open the bags, and the two of them share in the spoils of their victory.

An indecisive cat. Meows relentlessly to get your attention because he gets lonely. “Y/N pay attention to me!!!” But then when you do he’s like HA SIKE and nips at your heels or hands before he bolts away because he can’t decide if he wants affection or if he just wants to be a naughty boy for no reason.

Lexaeus

You find Lexaeus at the same time you find Zexion, the gigantic cat covering the smaller gray kitten protectively with his huge body against the storm raging outside and against you. They were hiding somewhere under your porch when you heard the tiny kitten mewls from somewhere nearby, and you somehow managed to entice them into the house with warmth and treats.

Lexaeus is one of the biggest cats you’ve ever seen. He’s protective of Zexion - and later, the other cats, too - and he’s quiet and surprisingly agile for his huge size. Of all the cats, it takes him the longest to get used to your presence. He doesn’t trust you at all for what feels like weeks, but slowly he gets used to having you around and... well, he knows that you’re now his primary food source so he begrudgingly accepts you.

But when he does get used to you? He’s a purring machine. Sounds like a small car engine with how much he purrs. The smaller kittens love to lay on him or under him or around him because he’s like a vibrating massager.

Plops everywhere. Plops on your lap when he wants cuddles, which is often. Plops on top of the older cats when they annoy him or if they’re getting out of control. Plops on top of the little cats when he can tell they’re getting anxious. Just a blob of fur sometimes.

Zexion

A teeny baby!!!! Such a sweetheart. Quiet and smart and wary of the entire world around him even though he is so curious and wants to get into everything because he has to be in everyone’s business. He likes to explore even if that means he’ll disappear and appear hours later covered in dust and dirt.

Another one of your rare cats that’s fairly okay with baths. A little lukewarm water and his favorite squeaky toy and he’ll be good to go when you need to wash some dirt out of his hair.

His favorite spot in the world? Perched on top of Lexaeus’s head. You don’t know why, but you think he might like the view from so high up since he has fairly short legs.

Not really a fan of toys in general, but he loves blankets and anything fluffy that he could dig himself in and hide. The more fluff, the better, which is probably why he likes Lexaeus so much. If you can’t find him, chances are that he’s somehow gotten into your bed and burrowed under your covers because WARM

Saix

Saix was a wild stray when you found him lurking near your rain gutters one late, rainy night, with matted fur and an odd scar across 

Likes to keep to himself. You don’t own him, he owns you. Doesn’t like to be touched except for on very rare occasions. He’s self-sufficient, similarly to Xemnas, but unlike Xemnas who judges you for long distances but will begrudgingly put up with you if you pat his head, Saix is NOT afraid of swiping at you with your claws.

“Omg, Y/N, are you okay?” And your friends will just stare down at the tiny scratch marks that cover your palms and your arms and your calves. “Oh, yeah, that’s just Saix.”

Likes schedules. Somehow knows your schedule better than you do. He’s your alarm clock in the mornings, waking you up with piercing meows right next to your ear at 6:30 on the dot. Are you late for feeding time? Unacceptable. Get your ass in the kitchen and pour food into his bowl before he takes it upon himself to jump onto the counters and find something to eat for himself.

One of the cats that brings you dead animals because, my goodness you really are useless aren’t you? Here, let me just plop this dead mouse right into your shoes so you can have some sustenance.

Axel

Axel comes as a package deal with Roxas at the animal shelter. You go in to volunteer for a bit and leave with two cats meowing enthusiastically back and forth to each other.

Equally as vocal as Vexen, but his meows are a bit cuter and more high-pitched. Eagerly races after you through the house as he trills in excitement - never has any idea what’s going on, but he’s always happy to be around you!

Axel is arguably the best cat around other human beings. He’s a curious cat when it comes to people and thinks, hey this is another person to give me some sweet pets so I better be nice to them no matter what!!! Also one of the only cats that will actually show themselves when there’s a little child in the room. Sits patiently while the kid will pat him a little too roughly, well-mannered and begrudging as he noses his way around the room.

Best cat around other human beings, yes, but it takes you a while to realize it’s because he’s a nosy little shit and has to be in the middle of everything at all times. Will definitely be winding through people’s legs and whining for attention because he has to be the center of attention or else.

Demyx

Such a dumb cat. Like probably the dumbest cat you’ve ever seen in your life, but it’s gone around from being super dumb to kind of being endearing, because Demyx is such a loving cat and wants all the cuddles and love that you can give him, but he has no common sense whatsoever.

The last of your cats that likes water, and he probably likes it the most out of all of them. Scrub scrub scrub, just let him drown in that warm water, he will thank you with the best cuddles and rubs against your leg. 

Follows you everywhere because he wants to be with you because he loves you! Are you heading into the bathroom? Into the kitchen to fix dinner? Into your attic? Out to your car? He’ll be right on your heels.

Makes the cutest noises when he sleeps, like little squeaks and chirps that happen when he gets too excited even when he’s unconscious.

Luxord

Shameless attention whore, without a doubt. Follows you around the house. Follows the other cats. Follows deliver people and your friends out to their vehicles. Tries to follow you to work. He has definitely made you late more than once because he absolutely knows how to sneak past you out the front door.

Most susceptible to bribes of treats. Dangle a few treats in the air and Luxord could quite literally be eating out of the palm of your hand. He gets kind of zealous, though, so get him to do what you need him to do before he starts literally climbing up your pant leg.

Shockingly territorial. He likes things to be a certain way, so if one of the other cats happens to sneak their way into his spot on the cat tower? He can get kind of violent. However, he’s also easily distracted, so fights with the other cats are few and far between.

Marluxia

A sweet, lazy cat who would much rather spread out in your garden in a patch of sunshine than run around with the other cats. He’s an observer, through and through, and keeps himself super groomed. Loves being pampered and doesn’t mind bathing, but it isn’t his favorite thing in the world.

His weak spot? His ears. Rub behind his ears for a little bit and he will literally melt into a pile of fluff across your feet. A scratch behind the ears is instantly calming for your sweet Marluxia.

Cleans himself all the time. Expect to be groomed when he grooms himself because, man Y/N you need to take care of yourself! He’s a handsome boy and he knows it, so he thinks that he’s the epitome of good hygiene. Will also try to help groom the other cats - only half of them put up with it.

Larxene

Your first female cat and Larxene immediately takes up a role as queen. She won’t let any of the other cats take advantage of her, so your boys will either avoid her completely, watch her warily from a distance, or do their best to befriend her and get on her good side.

Static. Electricity. You don’t know what Larxene does when you have your back turned, but every time you go to pet her, you always end up getting an electric shock. She’ll chirp at you and give you a lick before running off to go curl up near the window, but you’re left with your hair standing on end.

Most active at night. When all of the other cats are snoozing, she likes to be up, roaming and wandering the house and exploring. She likes being aware of her surroundings!

Larxene is also the best when it comes to car rides. She’ll stretch out and snooze where your other cats will cry, hiss, swat at you, or hide under one of the seats.

Roxas

Roxas isn’t a stupid cat - he’s actually really smart! - but he’s so clumsy. Trips on air, on his own two feet, on the other cats, on his toys, on his food bowl, etc. He jumps long distances and misses his destination, runs with an intention of leaping but slips on the floor and runs face-first into the wall. Bounces back pretty fast and is fairly resilient, so he rarely injures himself no matter how much he trips and falls.

Most likely to be found: dangling by the scruff in Axel’s mouth, meowing indignantly. Axel took a shine to the little kitten and you aren’t quite sure why, but if you’re looking for either one of them, the other shouldn’t be far behind.

Squeaky toys. Oh, man, all the squeaky toys. Has he disappeared? Just give his favorite toy a squeak and wait a few minutes. He’ll bolt down the hallway and squeak squeak squeak squeaksqueaksqueaksqUEAK

Xion

Oh, my God, the cutest kitten, almost too cute to be real. She’s small and has stubby legs but is surprisingly agile for her size and age.  Probably the youngest of all of the kitties.

Has a sixth sense when it comes to human emotions. Knows exactly whenever your upset and she adjusts her behavior accordingly. You’re sad and she wants you to be less sad, so be prepared for constant purring and cuddles until you feel better. Sometimes recruits Roxas to come and snuggle with you.

Hates water, but isn’t afraid of it? Like she doesn’t want to be in the water at all, but she gets scared for you whenever you take a shower and wants to rescue you, so she’ll definitely be meowing at you until you take her into the shower with you, putting her somewhere dry where she can watch you and make sure that you’re okay.

#organization xiii headcanon #kingdom hearts headcanon

[natalilysims]

Legacy Questionnaire

Thought this would be fun to do so I can look back on it after a few more generations pass and see how some answers change. This can also be done as a ‘send me a number’ game so if you want to do that you can find the original post by @melien​, here. Inspired by @an0nymousghost​, you can check out their post here!

1. When did you start your legacy? What inspired you to do it?

I started this Legacy on March 28, 2019. I usually do challenges where there are a lot of rules for each generation but I wanted to start something where I could do pretty much what I wanted and play a little bit more out of my comfort zone. And I’d seen a lot of amazing Legacies on Simblr that made me want to do my own and post it.

2. Are you following any strict rules there or just play how you want?

Nah, I’m basically just doing what I want.

3. Post the oldest picture you have from your legacy save.

The first ever Sharp house. Originally created by lilsimsie but I gave it a renovation. It’s up for download if anyone wants it!

4. What’s so special about your founder that you wanted to start a legacy with them?

She wasn’t really special to be honest. I just finally made a Sim that I managed to enjoy playing enough to not give up and start a new family like I’ve done a few times before with Legacy Challenges.

5. Favourite generation(s)

Generation 1 was probably my favourite. Which makes it sounds like I’ve enjoyed the family less and less as the challenge has gone on but that not the case at all. I think it’s because even though it was only a little over a year ago, I have a bit of nostalgia for that generation? Idk, I’m weird.

6. Favourite heir.

Probably Harper, the Gen 3 heir. 

7. Favourite spare.

Either Abi from Gen 1 or Jordan from Gen 3. 

8. Favourite spouse.

Alessia, the Gen 4 spouse. I’m gonna be really sad when I have to move on to Gen 5 and stop playing her.

9. Top 5 favourite legacy sims.

1. Jordan 2. Alessia 3. Sonny 4. Abi 5. Hayley

10. Top 3 favourite couples.

1. Safiya and Milo - the OG couple of this challenge. I have to stan. 2. Jordan and Jackson - kinda look like brothers but I just love them so much. 3. Eli and Alessia -  currently playing them and they’re so cute.

11. If you ever did any story lines, what is the one you’re most proud of?

I’m not a huuuge fan of making big story lines for my Sims but sometimes I have little things in my head about the Sims’ personality or their motivations for doing certain things that someone looking through my legacy won’t know because I don’t necessarily put them into my posts to make a huge story.

12. Any memorable moments?

Mango, a cat from Gen 2, randomly going into labour. I literally don’t know how she got pregnant.

13. Any funny moments?

None that I can think of. That’s upsetting.

14. The most unexpected twist in your legacy?

Some of the kids were unexpected twists - Harper and Hazel weren’t supposed to exist and neither was Eli but I have a problem with making my Sims have too many kids. 

15. Favourite name used on your sims?

I remember being very excited about naming Gus. And I love the name Sonny, especially for a boy. For surnames, I was really proud of Nair and Lane, even though they’re pretty basic lmao.

16. Who of your legacy sims you can relate the most to?

I don’t really relate to any but if I had to choose it would either be Abi or Harper.

17. Do you usually get attached to them or just play without deep thinking?

I get kind of attached in that I love looking back at old screenshots and remember how fun it was to play them but I don’t cry when my Sims die or anything like that because I usually have other Sims that I can move onto and focus on. And like... if I really wanted to see a Sim again, I probably have them saved somewhere.

18. Any surprise babies? What was the story?

Not really a surprise because I made it happen, but Harper and Hazel were not part of my original plan for Generation 2. I planned on Faye only having 2 kids but I was bored and when that happens I usually cure the boredom by having more kids, which I’m trying very hard to stop doing because after the excitement of having the baby is over, I can be even less interested in playing than I was initially.

19. Who of your sims has the best style?

I feel like none of my Sims have the best style, they’re all pretty generic, but if I had to choose... Jordan or Harper.

20. Who is the best genetic mix of their parents?

This is definitely a flaw of The Sims 4 and its shitty skin tones but I quite like that Max and Jordan (who are twins) have a slight mix of their parent’s genetics. Max has Harper’s hair and Cheyanne’s skin tone. And Jordan has Cheyanne’s hair and Harper’s skin tone.

Again, this shouldn’t be a thing. The kids should have a skin tone that’s in the middle of what their parents’ skin tone is but I just thought it was interesting when I noticed it.

21. Is your legacy berry, vanilla, banilla, or a mix of those?

Vanilla in the sense that they aren’t berry sims but not vanilla in the sense that I use a lot of CC and some mods.

22. Have you ever done another legacies apart from this one?

I’ve started a few, two of which I began posting on here but then deleted because I didn’t like how they were going. I was 100% expecting to give up with the Sharp family as well but it’s going pretty good so far.

23. How many generations are you aiming for? When you reach a certain milestone, are you going to continue playing or just wrap up the whole thing?

If I lose interest at any point and genuinely get bored of the Sharp family then I’ll probably stop at the end of whichever generation I’m on but ideally I want to complete 10 generations. I might take a Sim born in the final generation and use them in another legacy/challenge I start as a spouse or something but I’ll stop with the Sharp Legacy after 10.

24. Have you ever done any other challenges with your sims from the legacy?

At some point I probably will use someone from the Sharp family in something else but so far I haven’t. I will be using a Sim from another challenge/family in Sharp Gen 5 though.

25. What do you do when you feel uninspired playing the legacy?

Either stop playing The Sims 4 altogether or play another challenge/family for a bit.

26. Have you had your sims die? Which death was the hardest to take?

I’m on Gen 4 so a lot of Sims have died at this point, all from old age. So far, Harper’s was probably the hardest to take.

27. Do you have this one OTP that stands out among the other legacy couples? Tell us about them!

Jordan and Jackson. I don’t know what it is about them, I just love them so much. Sometimes I wish I made Jackson the heir. I knew that for Gen 4 I wanted to live in Sulani and do Island Living stuff but I didn’t mold Jordan into an Island Living type of Sim so it wouldn’t have fit very well.

28. Have you had a sim who you grew to like?

Eli was very unplanned and I had no idea what to name him and I was like ugh why did I do this but now I love him a lot. Originally, I named him Casper.

Bailey was also very hard to name. I’ve always really loved her, it’s just the name that I’m not sure about. I like the name Bailey but something about Bailey Sharp isn’t my fave. And Sonny and Bailey don’t go together that well imo. But at the same time, now I couldn’t imagine her having a different name so... idk.

29. Have you had a sim that you fell in love with right away?

I’m always obsessed with the first born in a generation so - Abi, Hanna, Max & Jordan, Sonny

30. Do you choose your heirs yourself or make heir polls?

I have thought about making an heir poll when I’m not sure what I want to do for the next Generation but so far, I’ve managed to figure it out so I haven’t needed a poll.

Also, when it comes to choosing an heir, I usually like to choose when they are still a child so I can kind of mold them into what I want for the next Generation as they’re growing up. So making a poll would be hard because the people voting wouldn’t know my plan and I wouldn’t want to give major spoilers for what’s to come.

31. The first legacy memory that pops up in your head?

Safiya going to a cafe to make friends but she ended up just sitting alone drinking coffee. Or when Cheyanne and Harper went on a date and Harper died...

32. The hottest sim?

Gus, Max or Brandie

33. The prettiest sim?

I feel like I’ve been very lucky with this family because all the kids have been really pretty but if I had to choose, probably either Abi, Hayley or Jordan.

34. The most unique sim?

I feel like all my Sims are pretty basic to be honest. If I had to choose... maybe Jordan? I’m not sure. 

35. Have you had any sims that remind you of someone?

I’ve never really thought about it, so I guess not.

36. Do you use other people’s sims in your legacy?

I think most of the Sims I’ve used for this Legacy are either pre-made Sims in the saves I’ve been using or I’ve made them. I don’t think I’ve specifically downloaded anyone from somewhere for my Sim to marry. I probably will do that at some point though.

37. Imagine if you had a chance to meet one of your sims. Who would it be?

That’s so weird for me to imagine but if I had to, either Jordan or Harper.

38. Do you have that one generation you wish you’d done differently?

I love Brandie and Eli so much but I sometimes wish Harper and Cheyanne had Max and Jordan and then were done with babies because 2 generations in a row with 4 babies is a bit much.

39. Your favourite non-romantic relationship in the legacy?

Harper and Hazel were fun to play with at the beginning of Gen 3 when they went to university.

40. Random fun fact about your legacy you want to share!

I’m trying to make each generation a bit different and focus on a pack. Gen 1 and Gen 2 were both fairly generic but Gen 3 had a university theme for a while and Gen 4 is Island Living. Gen 5 will probably be a mix of Island Living and Eco Lifestyle (if I can be bothered to figure out how to properly work Eco-Lifestyle).

#sharpfam #idk what to tag this lmao

[bellarxse]

Get to know: Cesca Joyce (TMOHB)

100 Questions (https://the-moon-dust-writings.tumblr.com/post/159843387908/100-oc-questions) to get to know Cesca Joyce, MC in The Motion of Heavenly Bodies

1.    How do they present themselves to others? Soft femme – she has had the importance of femininity and her appearance drilled into her from an early age by her mother, but she has withdrawn from the idea of high-maintenance femininity as much as she feels she can

2.    Do they like animals? Cats and marine life. She doesn’t like dogs.

3.    How do they dress? Often as casual as she can manage, and often in something which hides her chest.

4.    How many language do they know? Fluent in English and German. proficient in French. Likes to watch K-dramas with subs, so she can pick up on the odd phrase now.

5.    How big is their family? Parents divorced. Two full siblings, two paternal half-siblings.

6.    What is their purpose in the story? Uh..they’re the main character. Ha. No, Cesca’s “arc”, such as it is at this point, is going to be about the importance of recognising and pursuing your own desires rather than letting people tell you what you should want.

7.    Do they know how to fight? The extent of her knowledge is basically that you should tuck your thumb into your fist if you throw a punch. That’s basically it.

8.    What is their back story? Distant father (working in international finance), mother (thwarted model, pregnant too young and unable to cope) at home with children she never wanted in the first place. She wants them to be the successes she never was, to shine with radiance that blinds the world. Sarah, their first daughter, is genial and hard-working but painfully plain, and the youngest, Alice, is manipulative and cruel, and looks it. But sweet little Franze, with her angelic curls and innocent blue eyes? Yes, she will do nicely. But it isn’t long before she rebels. Skinned knees and grubby hands (“Mutti, look what I found!”), and a profound disinterest in how to make herself more beautiful. So Julia tries again, taking away her rocks and microscopes and replacing them with vanities and lotions and potions, until Franze is a dejected little doll – almost literally, listless and lifeless. A teacher at school flags up “Cesca’s” (Franze’s) behaviour as being a “concern”, and threatens to involve child protection services. But how could it possibly be a concern? This is what little girls are supposed to be like.

9.    Why is their name their name? Conceived on holiday in France – and it’s generally considered an upper middle-class name in both countries

10.Do they have any nicknames? Francesca (anglicised), Franze (German diminutive), Cesca (English diminutive – her favourite), C (school friends)

11.Do they have a romantic interest? …I mean, yeah, that’s the point – but that would be telling. So instead, let’s talk about her only other long-term relationship, Julian, when they were both 17. A son of Father’s friend—and Father is friends with some of the best society has to offer, he’s told her himself—he is sure of himself and charismatic enough to make Cesca believe it as well. She thinks he loves her, though he only ever really loved chasing her, and she cries when he breaks up with her, not one week after they had had sex for the first time.

12.How do they cope with struggles? At work, depends on the struggle. She tries to judge carefully what the best course of action would be – either she’ll take some time away to let it simmer; or she’ll keep at it until she finds another way in. In her personal life, she avoids whatever she can get away with.

13.Do they have anyone they can lean on? More than she knows – she’s never tested it with anyone else other than Sarah. She isn’t always sure how her friends feel about her, not truly, especially after she is selected to go on the show without them.

14.How do they react to someone dying? Lot of numbness. She can seem insensitive or uncaring, but it takes a while for it to sink in.

15.Can you name 5 personality traits they have? Reserved, analytical, emotionally perceptive, avoidant, sensitive

16.How did they become a character? Because I was fed-up of the S3 MC being just different flavours of the same bold, confident person. I mean, it’s a CYOA game, there aren’t exactly many opportunities to feed in complex hopes/wants/fears, but even the S2 MC could choose to be “cool and mysterious” or “all out”.

17.Do they get along with others? She often chooses the path of least resistance – so often people think they get on with her better than they actually do, because she isn’t always honest with how she feels about things or people

18.What flaws do they have? Arrogant (mostly at work), naïve, perfectionist, practical, rigorous/over-zealous

19.How do they influence the story? A little too spoiler-y for now…

20.What do they look like? Honey blonde curls (usually pinned back), blue eyes, 5’ 3”. Quite pale, even after weeks in the Spanish sun – it would take a lot more time and effort for her to tan. Some freckles, but not many. Looks delicate at first blush, but is deceptively strong for her build. Bottom hourglass.

21.What are their hobbies? Collecting and listening to old vinyl records. Swimming and free diving.

22.What are their ticks? She blushes at the drop of a hat, and she bites her lip. She doesn’t intend it to come off as sexual or flirty (quite the opposite) but people don’t believe her.

23.Do they like children? If you ask her, she’ll laugh and tell you no, loudly. But Sarah has just had twin boys, and Cesca thinks that she might just die for them anyway, even if they don’t need her to.

24.How do they react to being around wild animals? Aquatic animals – loves it, very affectionate/serene (even when she went cage diving with sharks). Land animals? More of a mixed reaction, depending on how physically large/imposing they are.

25.If they were given the task to prank someone, who would it be, what would they do and would it work? She doesn’t so much prank people as plot to ruin their lives, particularly careers.

26.Do they have survival skills? Not really – her mother didn’t think it was necessary for girls, and she has thrown herself into science since.

27.Are they more book smart or street smart? More socially savvy than she gives herself credit for, but mostly book smart

28.How do they get out of a difficult situation? Depends on the situation. In a dangerous situation, she will call for help. In a socially awkward position, she’s like to use her looks to get out of the situation (e.g. sending someone off to get her a drink from the bar and then disappearing into the crowd). In a romantic situation, she’d use her intellect and talk through in excruciating detail why they’re not compatible.

29.Do they use their body, mind, personality or force to get what they want? See 28

30.What music do they enjoy? Older music, from the 1960s-1980s (90s at a push). She does like some more modern things, but usually if they’re either drawing inspiration from older trends or europop. Trashy Europop is a guilty pleasure of hers.

31.How do they overcome obstacles? Grit and determination, mostly.

32.When faced with a difficult decision do they get stronger or break? At work, stronger. Emotionally, she’s never fully broken down but she’s come close a few times.

33.Do they have any special powers? Just her brain.

34.How do they change throughout the story? She gets a little more assertive in articulating what she wants – but there will still be some room for growth

35.Do they have any friends? If so, are they close knit? Two close friends from school, who would do anything she asked of them (in terms of emotional support), but she is too scared to ask them. So their friendship appears more superficial than it actually is, in terms of what they do together

36.How is their family life? She only really sees her older sister. She avoids Alice (younger full-sister) like the plague and doesn’t make an effort to see her father’s new family. Will basically shut down if she has to see her mother. Christmas is not a happy time for her.

37.Are they likable? I certainly think so, but she’s my ambitious little alien baby so…

38.Are they the hero, or anti-hero? Depends on your viewpoint – certainly some of her “competitors” wouldn’t see her as the hero…!

39.Do they make questionable choices? I mean, we’ll see.

40.How do they become who they are? Through putting her head down and ploughing on. Ultimately running away from…

41.How was their childhood? …being made to feel like the only thing that mattered were her looks. Her mother tried to enter her for pageants and the like, and it was actually one of the terms of the divorce – her father wouldn’t give her mother any alimony if she made Cesca compete in anything like that.

42.Are they close with anyone who is going to screw them over? Again, we’ll see, don’t want to get into plot elements too much…!

43.How do they adapt to different situations? Do they adapt at all? She adapts because she has to, but she’s not particularly good at it.

44.How do they speak? (e.g. soft-spoken, hot-headed, vulgar) Usually soft-spoken, which makes a genuine laugh all the more startling.

45.Are they opposed to violence? There’s something about having been raised to be a good girl and knowing how people should behave in polite society which makes taboos like violence more exciting.

46.When is their birthday? 1st January 1997

47.Are they quick to judge? She tries not to, but she can make snap judgements based on appearances or actions that she finds hard to shake

48.Do they have anything they are trying to hide from others? How she doesn’t like being complimented on her looks, because they just wouldn’t understand.

49.Do they act different around different people? She is much more confident around her work colleagues, because she feels like she can show off her processes, rather than dumb herself down for people. She is very reserved around people she doesn’t know well and most of her family.

50.Do they enjoy the arts? Not a huge fan of reading, unless it’s science-related. Loves music, especially on vinyl. Likes films, usually action/thriller/horror.

51.Do they like science? Loves it. There’s a kind of beauty about it, about how it lets her order the world, and how she can see the world reflected in her microscope.

52.Are they more emotional or logical? I mean I don’t agree with the premise of the question, because it’s a false dichotomy, but she would say she’s more logical. Make of that what you will.

53.How do they deal with their emotions? Distraction tactics. Which means that there’s some stuff that she’s just…never dealt with. Massive issues with her mother.

54.How do they cope with sadness? She’s almost constantly sad, and she’s never really let the weight lift from her shoulders. It doesn’t bother her personally – it only really bothers people that care about her.

55.What is something they care about? She cares about the environment – she tries to be as sustainable as her budget allows, and she’s almost fanatical about saving water. (So she’s clean but she showers only as often as she needs to)

56.Would they die for anyone/anything? Probably her nephews.

57.What do they do when they are happy? Being happy looks very like being sad – she behaves much the same way, but she might fidget less or smile slightly.

58.How would they come across to other characters? E.g. messy, lazy, caring, childish Calm, shy (especially in the context of Love Island, since she doesn’t cope well with being flirted with overtly), clinical

59.Do they have a phrase they use over and over? No? Not yet, anyway

60.In a crowded room are they in the corners, sides or middle? She would gravitate to the sides, so that she can see everyone more clearly. If she’s with friends she trusts (and particularly if she’s had some alcohol) she’s not averse to being in the middle of the room, but it’s not her first option.

61.Are they comfortable being in a crowded room? She can find it overwhelming.

62.How do they relax? Listen to records, watch TV. She usually needs to relax by herself and “de-person” for a bit.

63.Have they ever harmed anyone and regretted it? Verbally or physically? She is usually the one to break off any budding relationships, usually before they become sexual. So for some of these early relationships, they were hurt because they thought she was really into them, but they were usually at an early enough stage that it was fairly minor emotional pain.

64.Do they like to dance? Not unless she’s drunk some alcohol. She doesn’t feel like her body moves very naturally, she needs her inhibitions to be much reduced before she even considers it.

65.How do they get around their environment? (vehicle use) She cycles a lot. She learned to drive when she was 17, but she’s a nervous driver and she doesn’t like it.

66.What about pet peeves? Loud chewers. It’s a sensory thing, she really doesn’t like it. Linked to this – people who talk with their mouths full constantly (she’ll allow it if you’re surprised or if you didn’t expect to be asked a question but if it’s your default? Get in the bin)

67.Do they have a disability? No.

68.How do they react to getting flowers? It depends on the person – if they’re someone who she would like to receive flowers from, it can make her month. If it’s from someone she wasn’t expecting, she can be a bit unsure of how to react – are they are thank you? Are they a proposition? She really doesn’t like receiving flowers from a “secret admirer” or something like that.

69.Would they ever wear a flower crown? Not usually, maybe for something like a wedding? And definitely not if she’s the only one.

70.Do they like themselves? Sometimes. She likes herself when she’s at work and successful. She usually likes herself when she spends time with friends. If she’s left on her own for too long she can start to doubt herself.

71.Who do they dislike? People who aren’t genuine/honest. People who focus on their appearance too much.

72.What is their motto? When she read “If I look back, I am lost.” in the first ASOIAF novel, she had to take a few minutes.

73.Do they have any markings on their body? A few minor scratches from falling off her bike a couple of times. Some freckles, more on her arms than her face.

74.Have they ever been abused? Physically, not at all. Emotionally? Most of her interactions with her mother and her sister are hostile in some way or another, and her father’s attitude can best be described as neglectful.

75.What is their biggest fear? Not to get too body horror about this, but her recurring nightmare is that she makes someone (and the person changes depending on what’s happening in her life) and they push/hit her and she’s hollow, or she smashes to the ground like porcelain.

76.What are their goals? She wants to finish her research into biodegradable plastic, and ideally start a second study to see if the same desired results can be achieved with fewer/cheaper resources.

77.How do they go about achieving their goals? She keeps her head down and ploughs on.

78.Do they have a fight or flight response? Yes, but she almost exclusively chooses to flee.

79.Is there someone in their life that they care about more than themselves? Her sister and her nephews. I don’t necessarily think that her having fewer people she cares about more than herself indicates that she’s selfish or overly arrogant. It’s just that her feelings are a little more subdued, so she doesn’t necessarily think about most people in that way.

80.How would they fare in a zombie apocalypse? Pretty badly, probably – unless she was in an area that hadn’t been affected yet, and she was able to work on a cure/”silver bullet”.

81.Do they have any tattoos? If so, are they significant? No, but she’s not averse to getting them. But if she gets one, she wants it to be significant, and she doesn’t want it to be linked to something that she might regret (like a relationship)

82.Are they good at mental math? Frighteningly so.

83.Do they get along with others? Again, she often takes the path of least resistance, so she seems to get along with lots of people, but she can get quite resentful.

84.Are they lazy? No

85.Are they self-motivated? Yes

86.How do they cope with anger? Short answer, she doesn’t. She was told from an early age that girls don’t get angry, and that means she struggles now to pinpoint when she is feeling angry. She often experiences other symptoms, like headaches or nausea, which she will treat instead of expressing herself.

87.Have they ever been in a situation where they were helpless? Physically, no – she’s been lucky. Emotionally – she felt helpless for a lot of her childhood, and then worries now about letting someone else make her feel helpless again.

88.Are they organized or messy? Pathologically organised – think Monica from Friends.

89.Can they remember a lot of information at once? In the right context, yes. At work, she’s like a machine, remembering formulae and compounds. In her personal life, she often gets overloaded. But she picks up on a lot, and it’s a sign that she likes you if she notices or remembers little details about you.

90.What is their occupation? Environmental scientist (specialising in chemistry, but her degree is in biochemistry).

91.Do other characters respect them? Yes, I think so. Especially at work, she’s seen as one of the key members of the team. In her personal life, it depends – she chooses friends carefully, and her friends respect her. Her father and siblings (aside from Alice) respect her more than she’s willing to notice. Her mother doesn’t, and Alice (younger full sister) loathes her.

92.If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say? She would want to spend time with her sister. She wouldn’t want to talk about her feelings, but she would be more physically affectionate.

93.How do they deal with stress? Burying herself in work. Also, free diving is a good stress-reliever for her, because it requires so much of her concentration that she cannot afford to think about what is stressing her out.

94.Do they have a more submissive or dominant personality type? Depends – very dominant at work, less so among family and friends. I’ll cover NSFW stuff in a different post, but the short answer is, “it’s complicated”

95.Do they have a pet? No – she would like a cat, but she feels bad about leaving it in a London flat all day.

96.Do they have a stash of weapons? …no?

97.Where do they live? Who do they live with? She used to live in Putney with Ellie and Tina; now she lives alone in a small one-bedroom flat in Westminster that’s really meant for students.

98.How do they calm themselves down? Listening to music, staring at a wall. I’m a little worried that I’m making her sound crazy, but she can feel the tension leak out of her, and she can move on, at least in the short term.

99.Are they co-dependent? She makes an effort not to be – she is so affection- and touch-starved, though, that she is in danger of seeing another person as a source of self-worth.

100.                 Are they a day or night person? Day person – she wakes up very early (probably at about 5am), even when she doesn’t need to, and so she struggles with late nights. She isn’t usually smug about being an early bird, but she will let herself be a little more overt if there’s a particularly annoying Morgenmuffel…!

#cesca #litg fanfic: tmohb #tmohb headcanons #tmohb cesca #i Don't Like doing moodboard but skyler samuels is too pretty not to #i might revisit the moodboard at some point to make it prettier #maybe fix the colours or sth idk