#as long as god keeps letting me get away with not drawing backgrounds i will keep not drawing them

[mister-sol]

and he cries and cries, cries for everything he has been, for everything he might have been, for every old hurt, for every old happiness, cries for the shame and joy of finally getting to be a child...

Harold and Jude from Hanya Yanagihara's "A Little Life". It's not what I usually post here, but I've had this scene on the back of my mind for a while now, and after rereading it for the millionth time I decided to give in and draw it. Put way too much of myself into this to not post it to my main, so here we are.

#my art #a little life #jude st francis #harold stein #i was going to draw the pantry but then as i was halfway through sketching it i went like. nah. #as long as god keeps letting me get away with not drawing backgrounds i will keep not drawing them

[sadhours]

i had to write this cus i don’t even know this man yet but I’m madly in love with him. and if he eats ice cream like this imagine how he eats… other things

baron x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, creampie?

🍦

it’s a humid, scorcher of a day. not much to do on a sunday. baron doesn’t have work and it’s too sticky and warm to go outside. you’re laid out on the floor of the living room, tv buzzing with some boring background noise as you tangle your legs with your boyfriend. you’re wearing a sundress, hiked up to offer a bit of relief from the muggy warmth hanging throughout the house. baron’s wearing a ratty t-shirt and some shorts, his fingers grazing against your hip bone while his eyes scan the popcorn ceiling. your eyes are on him, because of course they are. he sure is a sight for sore eyes. sweat droplets forming at the hairline, making his roots damp and stick to his skin.

“what’re ya thinkin’ about?” you ask innocently, fumbling with the hem of your dress.

baron smiles, that sweet smile he gets whenever he hears your voice, “i can see things in the bumps of the ceiling, animals and stuff.”

you turn, nuzzling up to his jaw as you place a hand on his tummy, “point ‘em out to me, i wanna see.”

he lifts his hand, points above him and nudges his temple against the top of your head, “there’s a puppy dog, on his hind legs. begging for a treat.”

you don’t quite see it, eyes scanning but fruitless. that’s what you like about baron so much, he sees the light in everything. you hum, rubbing his tummy as you placate him, “almost as cute as you.”

“and right there, see that one?” he moves his finger a few centimeters to the left. “ice cream cone.”

“your favorite,” you gush, moving your hand to his side to squeeze him. he lets out a giggle and you can’t help but raise your lips to his cheek, kissing his skin tenderly and holding him tighter.

“sure would be nice right about now,” he mumbles dreamily and you place ur fingers under his chin, turning his face and catching his lips in a kiss. it’s slow and sweet, you drag your tongue against his lower lip and he gives you access, parting his enough so you can lick into his mouth.

you could truly spend hours kissing baron, languid and steady. but he ignites a fire in you like no other.

“you taste sweeter than any ice cream,” you confess before connecting your lips again. baron hums, smiling into the kiss as he holds onto your thigh once you hook it over his waist.

the pair of ya keep kissing until your out of breath, pulling away to catch it while he gives you this sweet, golden retriever smile. he’s the sweetest thing ever.

suddenly, baron’s pushing you on your back. he gives you a shy look as he situates himself between your legs, pushing them apart and hooking his fingers into your panties. drags them down as slow as he can and you lift your legs to help him completely rid them. he kisses your knee as you prop your legs up and pull your dress above your waist. baron’s lengthy digits wrap around your ankles as he kisses up your thighs, the sensation running straight to the excitement winding in your stomach. his long hair tickles against your skin and you watch as he blinks up at you, lips tilting up into a smile.

“baby…” you whine, breathless with anticipation.

baron nods slowly, pushing your legs further apart as he lowers himself where you need him most. he kisses your sex softly, peering up at you with those adorable, puppy dog eyes. then he licks up your slit, tongue delving through your folds up to your clit. drawing out another whine from you as you immediately knit your fingers into his mop of hair. baron gets his mouth completely on you, sucking and licking like he’s starved. like you’re his favorite treat. messy with it as he moans against your aching cunt.

“god,” you exhale slowly, “gosh, I mean.”

baron giggles against you and it feels surprisingly amazing, so you tug on his hair involuntarily. which eggs him on, he moans against you again before sucking on your folds as his hands wrap around your thighs. baron’s always so… sloppy eating you out. uses his whole damn face when he does it, brushes his nose against your clit while he lowers his tongue to your hole and prods it gently. gets your slick all over his lips and chin as he eats you out with fervor. that coil in your tummy winding quickly as you write against his face and pull on his tangled hair.

“baby… baby, don’t stop!”

baron groans, tugging you closer by the grip on your thighs as he licks at your hole, nodding his nose against your clit repeatedly. you’re pushed off the edge of bliss, biting your lip to stifle your moan as your eyes roll back in your head. he licks and sucks you through it. to the point where you’re overstimulated and have to pull his head away.

“fuck me,” you beg, looking down at his sweet, gorgeous face, lips shiny with your slick.

baron pulls back enough to push his shorts down, cock bouncing out from its confines. you grab onto his face and pull it down to yours, kissing him hard. he’s smiling against your lips but you moan against his when you feel the head of his cock catch on your pulsing hole. you’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to enter you. he gets it, sliding in deep and punching out another moan from you that he swallows down. you can taste yourself on him but it only makes you that much more desperate. you wiggle your hips up at him, sheathing him inside completely and you both still, gasping at the sensation. baron fills you so wonderfully, you’re absolutely addicted. couldn’t be so into any other man. none would treat you so wonderfully.

“baron,” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him deeper.

he rolls his hips slowly, whining into the kiss as he holds himself up with his palms on the carpet by your head. you pull him closer, to the point where he’s collapsing on top of you but you love the weight of him. you plant your feet on the floor beside him and buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. he breaks the kiss but his lips are against your ear in a second as he moans lowly. it does something, adds to the whole experience and you’re cumming out of nowhere. crying out so loud he has to cover your mouth with his palm so his other doesn’t hear. he picks up his pace, fucking you hard and fast through the second glorious orgasm.

but you wrap your legs around his waist again, squeezing him impossibly close as tears leak from your eyes. streak down your cheek to meet his palm and he pulls his hand away to look at you, concern clouding his brown eyes.

“babydoll, you okay?”

“need you to cum in me,” you beg through the tears, clinging onto him tightly.

and it’s like your words ignite something in him, baron whimpers as he hammers his hips down into yours, drilling into you quicker and harder than before. he keeps making these sweet, pretty whines and whimpers before his hips still completely and you feel his seed shooting inside and filling you up. you moan softly, pulling him into another kiss.

suddenly, the warmth overwhelms you but you can’t fathom pushing baron away. squeezing his sweaty body even closer to you.

#baron x reader #I wish I knew his last name #baron smut #Joe keery #baron x you

[dauntlessallure]

❲ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 ❳

toji fushiguro x troublesome!reader head-canons (long)

𖤐 › synopsis ；toji fushiguro with a significant other whose a lil shit.

𖤐 › contents / pairing ；toji x reader , you being a lil shit to toji , suggestive content towards the end, mentions of fake blood & knives , pet names, gn reader.

𖤐 › characters mentioned ；toji fushiguro , megumi fushiguro

𖤐 › word count ；800

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

this randomly came to me while i was drawing some stuff . . also this is my first set of hc’s with toji. enjoyyyyyy :)

you were always ALWAYS messing with toji. always. ever since you two hit it off , you’ve been consistently messing with him. wether it be a prank , calling him names , or just teasing the ever living shit out of him. toji swears up and down that you’ve been sent from satan himself just to make his life more miserable wonderful. all out of the simple fact of love of course.

everytime he wakes up , toji is obviously grumpy. You’d ‘ brighten ‘ his morning with the good ole [..]

“ good morning sleeping beauty “

the man is NOT a morning person.

&& he is NOT impressed by your little nicknames.

he just stares at you before immediately going back to bed , pulling the covers over his head to block out the sunlight shining through the blinds. that sleep would soon be interrupted by you pouncing on him like a wild animal.

“ grughhh — ( y/n ) get off ! let me sleep ! “

the first time you called him a passenger princess made him so upset.

you were driving around toji & megumi for the day given that toji wasn’t allowed to drive legally given to his extensive background.

you were the one chauffeuring them around while blasting some music through the cars sound system. toji , of course wasn’t a fan of the music that was playing. “ this music is shit , could you change it to something else ? “

of course megumi didn’t mind it because he had his headphones in , listening in to his own music. “ no , i like this song babe “ he didn’t like your rebuttal too much due to him scoffing and turning his head away from you.

now you being . . well , you . the car had came to a complete stop. this caused both toji & megumi to advert their eyes immediately to you. “ i’m the one driving , which means my music is playing for right now . . you can pick the next song — passenger princess. “

this man was about to lose it.

he looked at you like this.

megumi was hiding a sly smirk in the backseat , clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

toji ended up getting out of the car and began to walk to his destination. but with hours some time of convincing by both you & megumi — he eventually continued to be the passenger princess.

but toji absolutely hates when you play physical pranks on him. hates it. especially the anxiety - inducing ones.

you were in the kitchen making dinner while toji mindlessly laid on the couch , keeping his eyes glued to the tv screen.

no longer holding back on the opportunity , you had grabbed a bottle of fake blood that you had purchased for last halloween and poured / splattered some onto the kitchen counter, floor, as well as your hand.

swiftly hiding the fake blood bottle , you had gone back to the kitchen island ; acting like you were chopping up something.

“ when’s dinner gonna be done ? i’m starvin’ “

suddenly , an ear piercing scream filled toji’s ears. he immediately jumped up & ran into the kitchen in a fit of panic.

you had perfectly put on a façade that you had accidentally cut your hand whilst chopping something. holding your hand into a tight fist as the fake blood ran down your arm, letting a few groans of ‘ pain ‘ fly — toji cursed.

“ ( y/n ) what the fuck did you do ?! “

“ god damn it theres blood everywhere . . “

“ let me see it ( y/n ) “

toji forcefully grabbed your arm to analyze how bad the wound really was, after you attempted to keep the prank going — Toji had to pry your hand open but to his demise. .

there was no wound.

and he was pissed. why would you do something so mean ? and why were you laughing ?!

toji’s nostrils flared out of annoyance and defeat as he leg your arm go , storming off into your shared bedroom.

perhaps this prank was a lil too mean.

but he’s a grown man , he’ll get over it ? . . right ?

no , he won’t. he may be a grown man but he can act so damn petty.

toji’s beginning to grow irritated with you.

after cleaning up the fake blood mess & finishing up dinner, you walked into the bedroom to find toji laying on the mattress faced away from the doorway. it’s pretty clear that he’s still upset & will be for god knows how long.

“ toji , it was only a prank “

“ . . . “

you let out a sigh before walking closer to the edge of the bed when suddenly you found yourself under toji’s body within seconds with your back pressed into the mattress & your hands pinned above your head.

“ you pull another prank on me and i’m gonna pull a prank on you that i think you won’t like very much darlin’ “

let’s just say you apologized for your cruel prank by the end of the night ;)

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 23’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

#𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄 #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji zenin #toji headcanons #jjk x you #oneshots #headcanons #jjk headcanons #toji x reader #jujutsu toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsutoji #jjk oneshot

[ilasknives]

THE LONG WAY HOME | One

<- Previous

Hi, hello, it's been. A very long time. Well over a year, I think? I finally have the second part! I'm so sorry it took me so long, life and full time university have been kicking my ass. I haven't done writing in a long time, so it felt stiff and hard to get through, and only half of it is actual whump, but the rest sets up the story. I really missed writing it, though. I hope you enjoy!

CW: BBU/BBU Adjacent, pet whump, pet training, collaring.

1: Nine Hundred and Thirty-Three

After:

"Get on your knees.”

"What? No, please, I don't -"

"Knees."

He drops to the floor to avoid the baton that this man keeps touching the handle of, looking up at him from below with his hands in his lap, fingers twisting into the shitty thin fabric of his shirt. Maybe it will rip. He doesn't want it to. It's the same one he walked in with, and he's getting the feeling that he won't get it back again if it breaks. He digs his fingers in tighter, anyway, unwillingly.

"I need to - please," he tries again. He needs to go home. His voice is hoarse, rough from the night of pleading with the empty room, tucked into a corner, fighting waves of exhaustion with terror, trying and failing to keep his eyes open. He'd scrambled to his feet when the door opened, desperate for someone to talk to, to reason with, to see that he wasn't supposed to be here -

And now he's on the floor again.

He swallows, mouth dry. "This was a mistake."

The handler ignores him, looking over him like he's assessing him for something, then sighs, mostly to himself. "Okay. So, Domestic."

"I'm not meant to be anything-"

"You don’t need to speak unless you’re spoken to."

“Please,” he whispers, but the look the handler shoots him is enough to make him close his mouth. Something flashes, in the back of his mind. A hand through the air, a stinging across the side of his face. He flinches, but the handler hasn’t moved. Every part of him is screaming that he’s done something wrong, that he needs to hide away and wait until it dies down, until it’s safe again - but there isn’t anywhere to hide here. Just white walls and a heavy door. God, he hasn’t felt like this in years. It’s hard to breathe. Like a hand around his throat.

The handler lets a moment pass, and then two, and when he’s been sitting quietly for long enough, he speaks again. “My name is Handler Phillips, I’ll be your primary Handler for the duration of your training. You are WRU Trainee 297933.”

“I’m not.” It’s whispered, terrified, but he can’t just… give up. There has to be someone who will hear him out. There has to be some way to go home. “My name is-”

“You don’t have a name, you have an identification number.” The handler sighs, and crouches down so they’re face to face. “Look. I don’t want to do this the hard way, and I don’t think you do, either. You’re gonna have to work with me.”

“I’m not meant to be here.”

"We're just doing intake today, alright? Do you know what that means?"

"I want to go home." He doesn't want to do intake, he wants to go back to where he lives and curl up in his bed and never take another stupid fucking bet in his life. He's supposed to be walking back through the door and gloating about his victory right about now. Yesterday. The day before? How long has he been here? "Let me go home."

"I can't do that, mate. I have a job to do, and so do you." The Handler stands and unhooks something from his belt. "This is a collar. It will be yours. It's fitted with…"

The Handler's voice fades into the background behind the ringing of his ears and the bile that rises in his throat. A collar. Fuck, no. Fuck that.

"No," he interrupts. "No. No. You're not putting that on me. Let me go. I need to go home.”

Handler Phillips sighs again. “297933,” he says.

“That’s not my name.”

“It’s your WRU identification number. The collar is mandatory; it’s part of your training.”

“No.” The handler’s fingers touch, briefly, the handle of the baton. He draws back into himself, swallowing thickly, eyes on the floor. “Sorry,” he says quickly. The words taste sour. “I’m sorry.”

Another sigh from above him.

“You’re okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” The handler hesitates, like he isn’t meant to continue. “I know this is scary. Take a breath.”

He draws in a breath that burns the whole way down.

“Think you can sit still enough to let me put this on you?”

“I don’t want to,” he whispers.

It happens anyway. The fight just… leaves him. He sits and trembles on the floor while Phillips slides the thick collar around his throat and clips it into place with gentle hands.

*

Before:

They’re all at Nell’s house.

They’re always all at Nell’s house, because she’s the only one of them with dogs, and with a couch, and with more than one shitty, battered Wii controller like Benny has. Nell only has two, but that’s double Benny’s, and the rest of them have none, so Nell’s place is the place to be.

They’re playing Mario Kart while they wait for Benny. Rhys is sandwiched between Luca and the arm of the couch, and one of the dogs has its head resting on his foot, and he can’t even move, because it’s Luca, and he’s got his legs slung over Rhys’s lap and his head pillowed on his shoulder.

Luca jerks his arm, swerves, and runs his Yoshi off the side of the track right as Matteo wins the race. Rhys jabs him in the side. “My go.”

“What – that doesn’t count!”

“In what world does that not count?”  Rhys already knows he’s going to lose the argument, but he entertains it anyway. He rarely actually plays Mario with the group, even though they say they’ll swap controllers after every race. Matteo’s already clicked his controller into the wheel attachment and handed it to Owen. Rhys usually hands off his turn to Luca and watches as he comes dead last every single time.

Luca’s opening his mouth to start the usual ‘I’m going to get it next time’ spiel when Benny waltzes in through the front door with his arms full of Nell’s mail.

Rhys raises an eyebrow at him. “You know that’s illegal, right?”

Benny, mouth full of – something, what the fuck is he eating this time? – says, “Huh?”

“Opening someone else’s mail.”

Benny rolls his eyes and dumps the pile of envelopes – bar one – on Luca and Rhy’s laps. “Helenaaaa.”

Nell’s voice comes back from the kitchen, instantly dry, wary. “What do you want from me?”

“I have something for you.”

“I swear, if you’ve been going through my mail again - ”

Benny darts off, cackling like an idiot, and Nell – also like an idiot – chases after him. Rhys shoves the pile of mail off his lap, and it clatters to the floor, all over the dog.

“… Sorry, Benedict.”

“You’re so mean to her,” Owen says from the other side of the couch. “Come here, baby.”

Benedict heaves all god-knows-how-much of her entire great dane self off the floor and meanders over to Owen. He’s already got Chef curled up with his head shoved under his rollator, and Benedict slumps at his feet and goes back to sleep.

“Thief,” Rhys says. “You’re a dog thief.”

“You dropped mail on her head!”

“Weird mail,” Luca muttered, leaning down to snatch an envelope off the floor. “The hell is this?”

It’s a thick white envelope, decorated in gold trim, a wax seal on the back – and it’s snatched from Luca’s hand as soon as Benny swans his way back into the room.

“Whatcha got there, Luca?”

Luca snorts. “Ask Nell, it’s hers.”

Benny does not ask Nell. He never does, but Nell hates opening her own mail, so she shoots Rhys an exasperated look and slumps down on the couch with Matteo.

“We seem to have abandoned Mario,” Matteo muses as Benny tears open the envelope. He doesn’t even try to remove the seal. Absolute animal.

“Dear resident, we hope this letter finds you well,” Benny reads, pacing in front of them like some grandiose loser. Rhys considers tripping him. “We have recently started a movement to bring clinics to smaller cities, and we’re searching for partici- oh my god, this is that – Pet shit, right?”

Nell makes a face. “Yeah, they’re building some new complex for it, or something, right? I read the first one, some initiative to ‘bring business and economy flow into rural areas’ or whatever.”

“We’re not even rural,” says Matteo.

“I know. God, I thought I unsubscribed from their mailing list. Just tear it up, Benny.”

But Benny’s eyes have gone wide. “Holy shit, have you seen how much money they offer you?”

Rhys snatches it from Benny’s grip. Holy shit was right. The number is in the high ten thousands – more money than any of them have seen in one place in their lives.

“I want it,” says Benny. It’s always Benny who starts this shit. Rhys can practically feel his brain turning.

Luca laughs. “You want to be someone’s house pet, Benny?”

A grin, a shrug. Benny’s never been the type to admit that he’s wrong. “Why not? Cozy up on the couch, no job, no bills.”

“Dumbasses,” says Nell, taking the envelope off Rhys and ripping it in half.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want that kind of money, Nell.”

“What am I gonna do with the money if I’m signing up to their program, Benjamin?”

There’s a lull. It should be the end of it. It should. But Benny is Benny is Benny, and Benny doesn’t know when to stop.

“... I reckon I could get the money, anyway.”

“You’re a coward,” Rhys says, because he’s just as bad as Benny, “and a liar.”

Luca jabs him in the side.

Benny’s eyes narrow, and he squares his shoulders like he always does when he thinks that he’s been challenged.

“Wanna bet?”

Taglist (please ask to be added or removed!): @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @whumpinthepot @whumpcereal @whumpsday @whumpworld @littlespacecastle @anonintrovert @honey-is-mesi @warm-my-whumpee-heart @whumping-seven-days-a-week @alexmundaythrufriday

#it's been a LONG time so i understand people no longer being interested #but i had a random burst of inspiration #this is the first writing i have finished in a long long long time #i hope it's alright! #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #whump #whumpee #whump writing #writing: tlwh #writing: the long way home

[chaos-potat]

DTIYS WINNERS

Reminder again of the prizes

1st, a custom comic (probably at most 3 page panel things) 2nd, a rendered drawing (One character) 3rd, line art (Little to no color)

I had help from a neutral party with picking these prizes because I'm so bad at picking things and I loved all the submissions so much, I wish I could give everyone a prize. I cannot thank you all enough for putting time and effort into your submissions, they all hold a place in my heart and files because I'm saving those to a folder lol

Let's get to it and thank you all again!

Starting with 3rd place! (simple lined drawing)

@friskebits submission! I loved the rendering and that hair??? Tim looks so perfect and I love my son. As much as I hate you and never want to complement you (/j), I have to give you that Unfortunately, due to your constant harassment, you get get no more than 3rd😞(/j again)

2nd Place (Fully rendered drawing)

@glitter-alienz submission! I love your detail and lighting so much, you really make them look like the goobers they are, I love Tim's face so much, he's SO SILLY. I love your art so much in general and I actually shed tears over this one so it had to win something. I stared at it for so long it was burned into my eyes /hj

and finally, the winner...

1ST PLACE (custom comic)

@i-am-a-living-god's submission!!! This one took my breath away!! The angle, the rendering, the blur on Donnie's arm??? There's detail but it's not cluttered, I love this kind of shading and lighting so much, there's so much to look at but I don't feel overwhelmed. The movement of the drawing, it's so dynamic, I love it so much!!!

Winners, dm me for the prizes, declining is okay, the prize can go to someone else

Honorable mentions:

@cursedcatchild's submission! The background is amazing and so detailed! The girls really are fighting!! The shading is simply amazing and the lighting is subtle, it's so nice!!

@allyheart707's submission! Everyone knows Ally, she's so nice it's scary somtimes! I lloved the background and that you drew my perfect amazing son Tim fully and he looks so cute, Raph is there too and he also looks good! I love your style of lighting and shading, it's so smooth!

@k3nnyp1us's submission! You got it done yay!! I love this one, not just because of the whole storyline roller-coaster that came with it. I love this art stye in general, I always love pencil drawings in general, I love how floofy Casey's hair is and how the clothes are done!

Big thanks to everyone who submitted something! I wish I could put everyone as an honorable mention, but I'm keeping this post as short as I can. I loved your art so much and I really wish I could give everyone a prize but there are so many of you, I was really not expecting to get more than three submissions, thanks again everyone!!

#chaosdtiys300 #childhood dreams tmnt au #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt donatello #tmnt casey jones #tmnt 2012 casey jones #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2012 au #tmnt 2012 raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael 2012 #tmnt raph fanart #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt 2012 donatello #tmnt 2012 donnie #tmnt 2012 raph

[catdracox]

TFA Sidearm - Live a Little

(Short story below the read me/keep reading.)

"You can live a little, you know. Like you used to."

That's what she said.

Sideswipe rolled his eyes as he watched Strongarm walk along the edge of the rooftop of the building from where he sat. It was just the two of them, thanking Primus for Cheetor taking the new students (Nightbeat, Siren and Hosehead) out on their last night patrol. Last thing he wants is distractions from three obnoxious teens and a officer that acts like a teen.

The two Autobots were out in one of Iacon's most beautiful twilight nights, where the stars shined at their brightest and the faintest peak of magenta could be seen. It was like this night came as a tangible whisper to the millions of lights in the sky.

It reminded Sideswipe of the times in his younger days, where he would try and pull the greatest stunt ever on special nights like this.

"Care to join me?"

He looked up to see Strongarm staring at him with a simple, yet inviting smile.

He just sighs. "Strongarm, I…I know things have been rocky since your return, and I don't think I'll have enough to say for-"

"Sideswipe, I know things have changed." She looked at him, not keeping her attention on where she's going anymore. "I changed, you changed. But is that really stopping us? We need to look forward to-"

Her foot didn't register its calculation when it came down slightly off-kilter on the edge and she felt her weight shift more to the right where, below her, a hard, metal pavement awaited.

But before anything could happen, a firm but gentle arm wrapped itself around her, a hand pressed firmly on her waist as she was pilled towards the mech that saved her.

Sideswipe felt his body go into overdrive. 30,000 stellar cycles on the force will do that. As soon as he saw Strongarm's body falter in one way, his instincts reacted and he pulled her away from the roof's edge, wrapping his arm protectively around her and brought her closer to his frame.

The two locked optics on each other for a long time, neither one making a move. Then Strongarm gave a small grin, one Sideswipe missed to the pits and back.

"Want to dance?"

He blinked. Dance? Is she fragging with me?! She could have died and yet here she was, acting like it never happened and going about it like normal.

Sideswipe looked at her, deadpanned. "You can't be serious."

She grinned more. "And what if I'm not?"

This femme, I swear… While he wouldn't say it, he missed how the two of them would be out at night, her chasing him in the darkest hours, just enjoying the sounds of their roaring engines.

He just pulled her closer, their bright optics illuminating their faces as he spoke sternly: "Let's see if you can keep up."

She smiles. "I plan to~"

(God, this felt like forever! I wanted to do a TFA Sidearm piece for a while. And I think TFA Strongarm might get a future ref sheet from me [and she might get a different look, not sure yet]. And this maybe just be an excuse to draw TFA Sideswipe as well, cause….well, Sideswipe is my favorite. The background was haphazardly put together.

Also, TFA Strongarm is a bit taller than TFA Sideswipe, thanks to some friends of mine on Discord for planting that idea in my head.

And the dialogue is something that I wanted to add. It may or may not be related to a fic I'm planning on making. We'll see.)

#tfa #transformers #tf animated #sideswipe #strongarm #sidearm #strongswipe #fanart

[hothothotch]

𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 | 𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒏𝒆𝒓

SUMMARY: you’ve been working as Jack Hotchner’s babysitter for the past two years, but as your wedding day gets closer and closer, you start questioning if you’re taking the right step — or if you should jump into the abyss of feelings you developed for you boss, Aaron Hotchner.

PAIRING: Aaron Hotchner x Female Babysitter Reader

TW: fluff, really, a lot of fluff. except for the beginning, that’s is pretty much angst (i think?). there’s a small suggestive comment towards the middle of it, but i don’t think it can be considered NSFW (let me know if it does).

A/N: a few months ago i asked if you’d entertain the idea of an Aaron/Babysitter fic, and since it’s better late than never, I wrote this story to pay my promise, and I ended up really liking the result :D so i hope you like it, too. a completely useless information is that at certain point i mention the backstreet boys and kevin richardson (i’m a huuuge fan of the band) and kevin’s wife actually was on criminal minds in ‘pleasure is my business’ (she was the wife of the guy that dies at the beginning). that was it. hope you like it!

——

“I’m feeling pathetic”.

Aaron drew his eyes away from the stack of files piled up in his home office, looking at your image at the door through his eyelashes as he knitted his brows in confusion, “Huh?”.

“I’m feeling pathetic” you pointed at your dress, rolling your eyes, “Really pathetic”.

Truth be told, pathetic definitely wasn’t the word Aaron would use to describe you at that moment (or at any moment at all) as he took in into your appearance — you were wearing a long strapless dress that highlighted your collarbone, a pearl necklace drawing even more attention to that spot —, but he knew where this comment was coming from.

Dresses are not exactly your thing, at least not the fancy kind of dress people only wear in very important occasions, the kind you would never wear on a night out with your friends, but most certainly would in a wedding. Since the moment you met, you’ve made known that you valued comfort over pageantry, reason why whenever he got to see you, you were dressed in something comfortable enough to spend the whole day running after a toddler — and, while Aaron thought for months that it happened exactly because your job was to keep a four year old Jack Hotchner entertained most of the day (and night, if Aaron was working), he learnt soon enough that it was just who you were.

“Why don’t you change it, then?” Aaron asked, his voice clinically calm as he paid attention to his every word, trying not to say something that could possibly give him out.

You sighed heavily, taking the few steps that separated you from Aaron, pulling the empty chair so you could throw your body there, “His mom chose it. And God, she cried when I put it on, said it was perfect!”.

Aaron took a deep breath, his lips parting slightly as an involuntary, “Oh”, escaped past it, a simple explanation of his understanding, but that didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“Yeah…” you dragged your words more than needed, tilting your head backwards as you slowly slid on your chair, wishing that you could be swallowed by the furniture, “Oh”.

You had been working for the Hotchner’s for two years, and it was hard to think about something Aaron didn’t know about you (mostly because you blurted it all out when he merely commented he’d ran a background check on you to make sure nothing was out of place), so it was obvious he knew whose mother you were talking about — your boyfriend’s mother, or how you liked to call her, crazy Aretha.

Crazy Aretha Simpson was everything you and Aaron didn’t admire in a person: she was noisy, mostly rude and the kind of woman that liked to meddle on other people’s business, principally if it involved her golden boy, Matthew — also known as your boyfriend.

And while Aaron wasn’t exactly Matthew’s biggest fan (he had made it clear more than once — usually through his behavior — that he despised both his presence and his existence, even if he had never voiced that to you), you and Matthew were already dating when he hired you, so he mostly (mostly) kept his disgust for himself, and only allowed himself to make a comment when you started it, aware that it wouldn’t cause a strain in your relationship.

“You’re suddenly quiet” you observed, tilting your head to the side to look at your employer, your eyes shining in curiosity as you bit your bottom lip, “What is it?”.

Aaron was silent for a minute, his mind going blank at the vision of your teeth on your bottom lip, the small pout formed thanks to the movement making you look both cute and terribly sexy.

God, no! No, no, no. Stop!

Aaron cleared his throat, finally letting go of the pen in his hands to lean comfortably against his chair, hoping that maybe the talk could shake away his thoughts about you, “I was just thinking…” he started, staring at you with a questioning look on his face.

Working at his house for so long, the two of you had practically mastered the technique of understanding the other’s way of communicating without needing a full sentence; with that said, you knew that whenever Aaron started a sentence with ‘I was just thinking…’ or ‘It’s funny that…’ he was asking for your permission to say something that had the potential to hurt you (or that he believed could possibly do so.

It was cute. And way more than people (which included Matthew and his family) used to do for you.

“Go ahead” you motioned with your hands, sitting straight on the chair and smiling mischievously at the man in front of you, “Spill your poison”.

“It’s not poison, it’s just a comment” Aaron defended himself, even if he knew you were kidding. You knew that, for some strange (yet nice) reason, Aaron cared enough about you not to be completely rude about your boyfriend’s family, even when you knew he had hated them from moment one, “I thought the bride was supposed to wear whatever she wants on her engagement dinner”.

“Yeah, I was supposed to” You nodded, leaning to place both your elbows on his desk, the movement showing a bit of your cleavage for a second before you threw your head on your hand, burying your head on your hands in a clear act of shame, “I was supposed to be the bride, y’know. But it looks like Crazy Aretha is! It looks like…” you looked up at him, pent up frustration all over your features, “It looks like I’m back at my parents’ perfect doll house!”.

Oh, Aaron thought. Now he got it.

You had come from a wealthy family, and you were not ashamed of this fact — you knew you had privileges your whole life, and that you had took advantage of this privilege an incredible amount of times during your life; and at the same time you were not the kind of woman that sat and waited for someone to do the things for you, you also were not the kind of woman who believed that the thing that made you unique was “not being like the other rich girls from the world”.

You were just you. Funny, happy, beautiful, and rich. Obnoxiously rich. With a fortune that Aaron had only heard about, but that had left Garcia (the real person to run your background check) with her jaw dropped.

“Her fortune is bigger than Rossi’s!” Garcia had whispered while she passed Aaron your files, her eyes wide as she looked around, almost as if she was expecting someone to jump inside his office and have her arrested for spying on someone that rich, “Why is he looking for a babysitter gig?”.

Aaron had asked you that, and your answer was exactly what he expected from you — a simple shrug before you turned back to Jack and his LEGO pieces, way more interested in finishing the Death Star than giving him plausible answers to his questions.

He never asked you again, and you never told him.

Just as you never told Aaron anything about your family.

“She dress me up” you complained, a groan coming through your mouth, “She buys me things. She picks the songs I hear. She talks about how beautiful our children are gonna be…” you felt a shiver run up your skin, finally looking up at Aaron with anguish clear in your eyes, “I never said I wanted children! I mean, I want! You know that! But… I don’t want them now”.

Aaron nodded slowly, paying careful attention to your words — if anything, he knew you didn’t like to be interrupted during your sincerity moments (as you came to call it through the past two years), since you believed it cut off the mood. So he just kept his reverent silence, waiting for his cue to speak again.

“And they invited my parents without even asking me?” you exhaled sharply, pointing at yourself as you sat straight on the chair again, “You know how long has it been since I last talked to them? Three years! When I told them about my parents, it wasn’t meant to serve as spying material, it was for them to know we weren’t close! Is this so hard to understand? And, as if it wasn’t enough…” you stopped, looking at Aaron. Your anguish look has suddenly turned into one of sadness, “It’s my engagement party, and I wasn’t allowed to invite my own friends because they’re not ‘rich enough’. When did I become my mom’s little princess again?”.

The truth you hid from Aaron wasn’t a huge one — your parents weren’t involved with anything bad, and you mostly definitely wasn’t abandoned in a internship when you were only 5 years old to be raised by someone else while your parents build their fortune; and at the same time, the reason why you didn’t talk about your parents wasn’t because you were ashamed of the money they had — the money you had — or who they were, or anything like this.

You liked being rich. You liked the idea of being able to buy things certain people could only dream of, and you also liked the fact that, if you fell in love with an Organization or a mission, you could donate to them without caring if tomorrow you’d have something to eat. You were aware of the privileges you had, and you certainly wouldn’t be the kind of person who says that ‘rich people should die’ not to admit they are rich.

You just were. And you were ok with it.

So why had you became a babysitter? You could do absolutely anything, so why had you decided to find the home of a single parent and become his son’s babysitter for $2.000 a month?

“I just… I like the freedom of it” you had told Emily Prentiss once, during a dinner you had attended with Aaron and Jack at David Rossi’s mansion. Your job was to watch the children, reason why you were not drinking, but Spencer had stolen them away from you to show a new magic trick, and Emily, JJ and Garcia had used your brief moment of loneliness to snoop you away from Aaron, eager to know if the two of you were a couple.

They were clearly disappointed when you showed your diamond engagement ring and told that Aaron wasn’t the one to put it there, but they camouflaged their feelings as best as they could, changing the question to the reason why you had picked that job.

“When I’m with Matthew’s family, there are so many etiquette rules I have to follow. What to wear, what not to wear. Which kind of word I can say, which I can not. The kind of people I should befriend, or the kind I shouldn’t…” you shrugged, looking over your shoulder when you heard Aaron’s laughter, a sound that was rare for most people around you, but that you listened whenever he was at home, “When I’m at Aaron’s, I can be the crazy woman who jams to Backstreet Boys, and that doesn’t make me a freak, that just adds up to who I am. I like it”.

The trio had switched quick glances that night, soft glances that probably hired more meaning than you could read, but you didn’t pay too much mind at it.

Later that night, while you were sitting at one of Rossi’s extremely comfortable loveseats (still sober, and with an eye on a sugar rushed Jack running around the house with a giggly Henry following his every move), you smiled when the first tones of ‘10.000 Promises’ by the Backstreet Boys started to play, the first words of the song immediately leaving your lips like second nature.

“You like the Backstreet Boys?” Aaron asked, sitting on the armrest of your seat, his curious eyes set directly on you, “Aren’t you a bit too young for that?”.

You chuckled, changing your position to lay your back against the opposite armrest, looking up at him with a playful smile on your face, a few strands of hair falling in front of your face (that you pathetically tried to brush away by blowing them, which worked pretty well on TV, but not in real life), “For your information, they released the Backstreet’s Back album in 1997, I was 15 back then. Old enough to be a fangirl and want Kevin to be the love of my life…” you sighed exaggeratedly, one hand dramatically in your heart as you looked away, “Unfortunately he got married with someone else and I had my heart broken”.

“Oh, yeah, my bad” Aaron laughed again this time, his and you felt your heart flutter at the sound — you knew it sounded really cliche, but you couldn’t help but think how his soft laugh was a huge contrast to his usually austere self, “Sometimes I forget I’m the old guy here”.

“You’re not old!” You protested, rolling your eyes, “I mean, you’re not more than 40, right?”.

Aaron blushed slightly, taking his glass of whiskey to his lips in an attempt to make the sudden flush in his cheeks was nothing but an effect of all the alcohol in his blood, “I’m 45” he replied, his voice low.

“Ok, so you are more than 40” you commented nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders, “But it doesn’t look like it, so I guess it’s a win. Not that I think you’d look bad with grey-ish hair…” you rambled, your own face reddening when you realized what you had just said, “I’ll stop talking now”.

“Uh, yeah… but thank you for your compliment” Aaron replied shyly, taking another sip of his drink.

The two of you fell silent, and you were surprised by the fact that, even after you ultimately embarrassed yourself, it was still a comfortable silence.

“Is this your favorite song?”.

“Hm?” you looked up at him again, surprised at his sudden question.

“You’ve been humming to the song” Aaron informed, beaming at you, “I wanted to know if it’s your favorite”.

“Oh, no!” you replied quickly, shaking your head, “It’s not. I like the song, obviously, but it’s not my favorite”.

Aaron nodded in understanding, “What’s your favorite song?”

You frowned slightly, darting your tongue out of your mouth as you pondered the question, “From the Backstreet Boys or in general?”.

“Both” Aaron shrugged, “I’m just curious”.

You took a while to reply, pondering about your options, “I love ‘Incomplete’, from the Backstreet Boys” you said, tilting your head to the side, “And I guess my favorite song of all time is Coldplay’s ‘The Scientist’”.

“Isn’t that a sad song?” he asked, he was not judging you, but legitimately curious, “About a break up?”.

“Aren’t the best songs sad?” you returned with a question, smiling slightly when he moved his head, a sign he was pondering about what you just said, “What’s your favorite song? And please, don’t you dare reply with one from ‘The White Album’, I know you’re a huge Beatles’ fan, no reminder required”.

Aaron’s face turned into one of amusement as he gotten closer to you, passing his arm over the backrest, and you didn’t notice when you moved closer, leaning into his touch, “Sweet Caroline”.

“Good times never been so good” you sang, leaning your hand on his arm, “That’s a nice song”.

“Yeah” he nodded, “I like the purity of its lyrics, even if it’s clearly about… you know”, his face reddened again.

“I know” you laughed, “I mean, the ‘touching me, touching you’ bit doesn’t leave a lot for imagination. But it’s a good song to dance with someone”.

“I guess, yeah” Aaron nodded.

“Would you?”.

Aaron glared at you again, a bit confused with your words, “What?”.

“If I asked JJ to play this song…” you explained, already regretting your words, “Would you dance with me? I mean, we’re friends, and Matthew simply despise dancing, and I haven’t done this in a while—“.

“Yeah” he cut you off without thinking twice, “Sure. Yeah”.

The smile you gave him was… indescribable. Aaron was almost sure he had never seen you smile that brightly, and you knew that you haven’t laughed like that in a good while — if you ever had.

“Ok” you whispered, “Ok”.

You were brought back to the present by Aaron’s hand touching you arm, your eyes meeting his chocolate quickly, a crease on your brows when you asked, “What?”.

“Are you ok?” Aaron asked, the worry clear in his features as he looked down at you, his thumb drawing small circles on your arm, “You zoned out” he commented, “I was worried”.

You kept your silence for a while, your mind taking some time to adjust to your present situation — you were at Aaron’s house, wearing a fancy red dress because you were supposed to attend to your engagement party.

So why were you still sitting there?

“Yeah, I’m ok” you nodded quickly, passing your hands on the folds of your dress, trying to smoother the tissue, “What did you say?”.

Aaron took a deep breath, taking his hand off your arm. You were ready to protest, to ask him to put your hand back there when he joined your hands, intertwining your fingers, “What do you want?”.

You looked at him, astonished by his question, “What do you mean?”.

“What do you want?” he repeated, squeezing your hand softly, “From this relationship, from your engagement, from your life. What do you want?”.

You knew the answer to his question. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, even if a few months ago you wouldn’t have the courage to; now, surprisingly, it seemed like a good moment.

“I want to get out of this dress” you replied, “I want to put some comfortable clothes” you added, standing up, “And if you’re ok with it, I’d like to meet you at the living room in five minutes”.

Aaron’s face contorted in confusion as he observed you standing up, already taking your hand to your hair and undoing the perfectly made bun you had done, your hair falling over your shoulders with the motion.

“What?” he asked finally, his eyes glued on you, “Why?”.

You smiled down at him, “You’ll see” you said, “And you better be there in five, otherwise I’ll chicken out. Be right back, Aaron”.

—

Aaron was in the living room in for minutes. If he had been moved by his curiosity or the fear or missing whatever you wanted to show him he wasn’t sure, but at the moment you left his office, your proposal lingering in the air and mingling with your scent, Aaron knew there was no way he wouldn’t take his chance.

He had been thinking about you since that night at Rossi’s house.

You hadn’t shared anything more than a quick dance and small talk, but there was something about the way you propped your head back when you smiled, or the way you tried not to stumble on your feet as you danced, or maybe just your presence that had him thinking…

And then he was brought back to the real world. And in the real world, you had a fiancé.

A toxic fiancé with a toxic family, yeah, but still a fiancé. And even though Aaron’s heart burnt to tell you every bad thing he knew about Matthew and the Simpson’s, he knew that it would only draw you away, so he settled for small inoffensive comments with hidden meanings — meanings he knew you had understood.

The point was that, as most people in most toxic relationships, you couldn’t see your way out. And even if Aaron tried his best, he knew that you were the only person able to make the decision of stepping away from your relationship.

And nothing hurt him more than the fought that you may never do.

“Oh, you’re here!” you gasped in surprise when you saw him seated on his couch, “I guess I’m late, then”.

“No, I’m early” Aaron corrected, immediately standing up, “But you already knew that”.

You giggled, nodding at his words. It was true, you knew that — Aaron had the unsettling habit of always being early, which wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t have the equally unsettling habit of always being late (except that the reason you were late usually concerned the fact that you simply didn’t wanna be there, and Aaron was early simply because… it was him).

“So…” Aaron cleared his throat, burying his hands on his dress pants’ pockets, his eyes glued on you, “What is the plan?”.

You took a deep breath, taking one step towards Aaron while you gathered the courage to say the words you’ve been training in front of your mirror the whole night. But, when you looked in his eyes, the only you thing you could bring yourself to mutter was a simple and strangled, “I don’t feel pathetic anymore”.

Aaron looked down to your body, and considering the smile on his face, you knew he recognized the clothes you were wearing — the same black dress and sneakers you had worn on Rossi’s dinner.

“I can hardly say you were looking pathetic” Aaron pointed, “But I also don’t know how you mastered the ability of wearing dress and sneakers”.

Your heart stopped at his comment. Not because it was offensive, or because you were shy over it (even if you were).

But because those were the same words he said back then. And he remembered.

“Comfort over beauty” you repeated the words you said back then, too, “But I happen to have both”.

If you kept sticking to the pattern, you knew that Aaron would chuckle and the talk would be considered finished — and so you could go back to your previous script, if you could bring your mind to remember what was it you had to say.

But Aaron didn’t. Instead, he took a step towards you; it was a small, hesitant step, one that indicated that if you felt uncomfortable, you could tell him to stop at any moment.

You didn’t.

“You do” he agreed to your previously said words, “But I think ‘beauty’ doesn’t cover how amazing you are”.

You inhaled sharply, and you were convinced by the beat of your heart that it would burst out of you chest. He thought you were beautiful? No, he thought you were more than beautiful.

“Yeah?” you questioned, this time taking a step towards him, “You know, I love this job”.

Aaron nodded slowly, “Yeah, you say that a lot”.

“No, I really love this job” you repeated, this time your voice was decided, clear. And at the same time if made known that you had more to say than just that. So he waited, “I love to be here, and I love to be able to spend most part of my day with you and Jack. I love how you never pressure me into being something I’m not. I love our movie nights, when I pretended I don’t lay my head on your shoulder on purpose, and you pretend you don’t notice because you know I’ll feel embarrassed”.

Aaron felt his face heat at that, “I don’t—“.

“You do” you cut him, looking down at your feet as you giggled, “But that’s ok, that’s just one more thing I love about… you”.

This time was Aaron’s heart that almost burst out of his chest, his jaw slightly dropped as he stared at you wide eyed, “You… love me?”.

“I do” you didn’t hesitate on your answer, even if you were aware that those simple words could change everything in your life, “I love how you make me laugh, even when you don’t plan to. I love how you bear those shitty rom-cons just because you know I love it. I love how you know me better than anyone, to the point of knowing when I need to hear something, and when I just need to be heard. And maybe this is because you’re a profiler, but I’d really like to think that this is because you feel the same” your voice faltered when those words left your mouth, but your brain wasn’t controlling your body anymore, seen that you took a step forward, “You know me better than anyone. I let you see my flaws and my qualities, and you let me be myself. You showed me, more than once, that ‘good enough’ is not enough, by being better. God, you even made me love ‘Sweet Caroline’ to the point that whenever this song plays, I find myself saying ‘play that song again, please’. That’s how much I love you”.

You looked up at Aaron again, chewing on your cheek as you tried to control your anxiety. Say something, you pleaded inside your mind, just say something, please.

But Aaron didn’t, so you did, “But if you don’t feel the same, I’ll pretend I never said anything. I’ll… uh…” you cleared your throat, looking back towards the lit corridors, “I’ll put that dress back on, and I’ll go back to Matthew, no problems. So we can pretend that never happened”.

Again, Aaron didn’t mutter a word. And to you, silence was more than enough answer.

“Ok” you turned your back to him, already starting your walk of shame, thinking about the hundred excuses you’d give Matthew and crazy Aretha for being late.

Maybe your life wouldn’t be this different after—

“Good times never been so good”.

You stopped on your tracks, not daring to look back at Aaron, afraid that his words were just result of how bad you wanted to be with him, how bad you wanted your feelings to be returned…

“I honestly don’t want to quote this much Neil Diamond, but I can’t bring myself to think of anything that won’t sound terribly idiot, so…” Aaron took a deep breath, and you knew he had walked towards you from the way you could feel his breath fan on your neck, the tips of his thumbs touching the skin of your arm, “I’ve really been inclined to believe they never would, until the moment you stepped inside this house”.

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as you slowly moved to face Aaron, being only able to breathe through your lips. Suddenly, it felt like all the air had left your lungs.

“Look at me, honey” Aaron pleaded, brushing hair off your face delicately, lovingly. You opened your eyes slowly, losing yourself on the infinity of his brown eyes, “I’ve been loving you for so long. I loved everything about you. Your determination, your happiness, your ability to light up any places you walked in… and when we danced at Rossi’s party, God, that was when I knew I was gone”.

“Why?” the words slipped past your mouth before you could keep them, both your hands grabbing his shoulders in a search for balance, “What changed?”.

“Because I got to finally hold you” Aaron said honestly, his voice holding a tinge of anguish, as if his mind had took him all the way back to that night, “To feel your smell, to place my arms around your waist, and I imagined… I knew that was the place I wanted to be, forever. But then I remembered your heart already belonged to someone else, even if he didn’t deserve you”.

You moved your arms slowly on Aaron shoulders, your hands playing with the hair on the back of his head, “It didn’t belong to someone else. It has always belong with you” you whispered, smiling when he circled your waist with his arms, “And if you say the word, if you believe we can be happy together, that I can be more than just Jack’s babysitter… then I’ll call my wedding off, and it’s gonna be us, forever”.

Aaron’s answer was obvious, but he needed to know you were sure about it, that you wouldn’t make a move you’d regret later, “Is that what you want?” he questioned, “You know I’m… that a relationship with me would be probably complicated. My work hours are hectic and sometimes I spend too much time out—“.

“I know it all” you silenced him, “And I love you the same”.

Aaron smiled — for real this time, not just a simple smile or a giggle. It was a full on smile, one that reached his eyes.

You had seen this smile before — it was reserved for Jack, or for deep talks about Haley. And while Aaron had never smiled like that to you before, you always knew what that smile meant.

It meant he really loved you.

“Then I guess you’re calling off your engagement” Aaron whispered, joining your foreheads as he slowly cradled your cheek, his touch was tender, as you could easily read the reverence on his voice, “Because to give you my heart is the only thing I want”.

Words were not needed, not anymore. And before you could notice, your lips joined Aaron’s in a kiss that could only be describe as… breathtaking.

You smiled against his lips before parting yours to give his tongue passage, not vacillating for a moment when he tightened the hold around your waist, bringing you closer and closer to your body. And for the first time in years, you knew you were in the arms of the love of your life — and that this time, it was forever.

Maybe Neil Diamond was right, after all.

Good times never been so good.

taglist (thank you for your support 🫶🏾):

@psychosociogentleman, @toshijimafarms, @red-red-rogue.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch #aaron hotchner x babysitter #Spotify

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Cariño [Part 5]

Jake Lockley X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist • ao3 • want to be tagged?

Cariño Masterlist

Summary: “Kiss me,” you muttered, expecting to have to explain yourself, your reasoning, your plan.  

Stealing the ankh was always going to be too easy.

A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken so long!

Warnings: typos, kissing, reader can't speak Spanish, please let me know if I have missed a warning

Word Count: 1628

___________________

You weren’t sure why you had worried about getting upstairs. It had been almost too easy. 

You had presumed that there would be at least some security, or barrier, or something. Seemed like Malay was another classic born-with-a-silver-spoon-in-his-mouth type that thought nothing could ever go wrong for him. And put too much faith in his security cameras. 

More fool him.

The room you needed (3rd floor, god, why did his man need so many floors and rooms – everything was boringly minimalistic. It’s not like he needed the space.) was protected by a seven digit pin code. 

You put your gloves and punched the numbers in. It would have been boringly simple to hack even if you didn’t have the code. 

Jake followed close behind you, quiet with a faint frown of concentration on his face. It was like he was listening to something in the far distance. 

Honestly, it was a little off putting, him being there. Someone watching you work. It was like you were performing, your hands shook with minute tremors that didn’t usually appear. But that was what it was always like when Jake was around. 

The room was cooler than the other places in the house, the air conditioning buzzed lightly in the background. There were no windows, and only the one door. You closed it behind Jake as he stepped over the threshold. 

There was a small woosh of air and thud-click as it shut. 

Jake quirked an eyebrow at you. “We’ll be able to get out of here, right?” There was a hint of a smile at his lips, an injection of humour into his words. But it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You nodded. 

Jake swallowed and looked away, glancing around the room. 

It was large, spacious with rows of cabinets housing precious art and artifacts from around the world. 

But the lighting was static, cold. Meant to keep any possible damage to the treasures to a minimum, despite the face that they were sealed away. It was like a hospital. 

The still air and lack of exits made the space smaller than it was, the walls closer. Like a tomb. Like a coffi-

“It’s over here.” You said, breaking Jake out of his thoughts. You had been watching him carefully as you found the ankh’s location. 

There was a skittishness about him that you’d never seen before. A slight tense of his muscles. A subtle thing that he held well. 

“You okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

You paused, in two minds before asking, “do you want me to prop the door open?”

“No.” He shook his head. It was obvious that he was lying. “Don’t want to attract unnecessary attention, do we?”

“No one knows we’re here.” You spoke softly. 

“Don’t want to risk it.”

“Okay.” 

You managed to tear your eyes away from him for long enough to go back to the task at hand. 

There were no locks here, and it was easy enough to open the fifth drawer, take out the replica of the ankh in your bag and replace the real thing with it. 

You felt, more than heard, Jake move near you, hovering just behind. 

“Here,” you turned, smiling, and holding the ankh out to him. “Does this meet with your approval?” 

You placed it carefully in his hands before going back and closing the draw. 

Jake ran his fingers over the etched hieroglyphics, nodding. 

There was a small change in the air, a momentary breeze. You frowned. There must be something wrong with the air conditioning. 

“Shall we go?” 

Jake finally looked up at you and nodded once again before slipping the ankh into his inside jacket pocket.

You weren’t entirely sure why you did it, but you lightly took hold of the wrist of his free hand and guided him gently to the door. 

The pounding of his heart ran up through your fingers. He didn’t try to pull away. 

You let go the second you were both out, your thumb tingled where you had brushed it over the back of his hand. 

Heat has risen to your cheeks. You breathed in, a little too deeply, trying to get a hold of yourself before you turned back to Jake, your mouth open to speak.

The words never came out. 

Jake’s face was tense, alert, his jaw clenched and his head bent to the side. Listening. 

It was only then that you heard it. The faint crackle of a radio and booted footsteps. A guard. 

Your eyes widened at the realisation. A brief flare of irritation ignited in your might. This wasn’t what was meant to happen. This wasn’t part of their protocol. Why the hell did they have to be wandering around now? 

The emotion was quickly swallowed down and overcome with a spike of fear. This was what went wrong.

Jake grabbed your hand and pulled you down the corridor, his footsteps light and quick. You followed close behind him as he opened a door and hauled you both inside, shutting it just in time as the corridor came into the guard’s line of sight. 

It was dark, but the faint light from outside was enough to illuminate the room. You glanced around quickly, the schematics for this building that you’d poured over playing out behind your eyes. This was a guest bedroom. Too high to jump. No way out. 

Jake kept your hand in his as both of you listened intently for any sound in the corridor outside. The music from the garden floated in, barely audible over your racing heart and breathing. 

There was another crackle of the radio. Footsteps. And the sounds of doors opening and closing, growing closer and closer and closer. 

Jake tensed beside you. 

This was not good. You both needed to be out of here without any altercation. 

While there was a good chance that the both of you could incapacitate one guard, it wouldn’t be long before there’d be more. With guns. 

Besides, even if you did get out, Malay's reach was wide, escaping his radar was something very few did. 

Another door opening. Footsteps. It seemed like he wasn’t just doing a once over either. The guard was searching the rooms, not that there was much to hide behind in this minimalistic nightmare anyway. 

Seeking passed him while he was in another room seemed too dangerous, but what other option did you hav-

A thought sparked in your mind. You winced. Internally trying to push it away, to think of something else. But you came up empty. 

Another door opening, so much closer now. 

You turned to Jake, pulling at his hand to get his attention. You could see the frown on his face even in the weak light. 

“Kiss me,” you muttered, expecting to have to explain yourself, your reasoning, your plan.  

But it seemed like Jake was on the same wavelength. 

His lips crashed into yours. His hands coming up to cup your face and guide you backwards, pushing you up against the wall. The speed in which he moved took your breath away.

He swallowed down the small gasp of surprise that escaped your lips, sneaking his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

You grabbed at his biceps, screwing up the material of his jacket as he leaned in closer to you. You tried to push down the heat that flared along your skin, the longing that threatened to explode in your heart and overload your mind. This was just cover, this was just cover, this was just-

Jake pressed his body flush against yours, easing himself between your legs and sliding his hand down your right thigh. He took hold just behind your knee, his fingers warm and sure but so careful not to bruise despite the almost fevered rush in which he moved. 

He groaned into your mouth as he lifted your leg up and over his hip, keeping his hand on your skin and holding it in place as he rocked against you, licking further into your mouth and-

The door opened. There was a flash of light. 

You had briefly forgotten the whole point of this exercise. 

Jake turned towards the light as you shied away from it, tucking your face into Jake’s neck as it blocked you from the intruder’s vision.

The guard made an apologetic sound. “Sorry, erm,” his Italian accent was strong, but his English was perfect. “This area, is off limits, I-”

“Oh, we are so sorry.” Jake smiled; the rumble of his words reverberated through his chest into yours. He sounded so confident, composed and sure of himself. Charming. “Just looking for a little private time.” He still hadn’t let go of your leg. 

“Of course.” The awkwardness in the guard’s voice was enough to make heat rise to your face, as if it hadn’t already. “But I have to ask you to-”

“We’ll be out. Momentarily.” 

The urge to hit Jake for that was so strong you nearly didn’t stop yourself. 

The guard began to speak again before Jake cut him off. 

“Just need a moment to look presentable.” Another dashing smile. “We won’t be a second.” 

The guard paused before he nodded. “Of course.” And closed the door.

You both stayed still, Jake holding his breath as you heard the guard’s footsteps move away and a door open further down the corridor as he continued his patrol. 

Jake put your leg down slowly, as if his touch could break it. You hurriedly smoothed down your dress, preferring to look anywhere except the man in front of you. 

“Sorry.” He whispered. The sincerity of his voice was shocking in the quiet.

You stared up at him, confused. 

He waited a moment before he grinned wickedly. “I smudged your lipstick.”

.

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockleyy @raven-rkn-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses @melodygatesauthor @dumdaradumdaradum

#fanfic #jake lockley #jake lockley x f!reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #x reader #x you #x female reader #x f!reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #my writing

[goodmorningnona]

alright, ive had bipolar disorder for like six years already and though medication helps prevent manic behaviors, the mania doesn't actually go away, so here are some of the ways ive hacked my mania so i dont just snort a bunch of coke at a dive bar:

1. feeling spendy? take yourself to the dollar store, thrifting, or buy off of a list of "nice to haves"! set aside physical cash in the amount you can spend so you dont overspend (or at least prevent yourself from overspending as much as possible), or try only bringing a certain amount of bags to carry the goods and limit yourself to that amount of bags.

2. have too much energy and/or feel really frustrated or irritable? GYM. GYM GYM GYM. i dont care if youre not normally a gym person, go to the gym. if you dont have access to a gym, go for a run. if you cant run or go to the gym, shadow box in your house/backyard. throw pillows around your bed, jump on it, kick your legs like youre having a tantrum. let yourself slam doors. if you have access to some under-used concrete like a shitty parking lot or a driveway, break those dishes you dont even like (just clean up the glass after).

3. feeling creative? dont go buy another new hobby, pick up one of the ones youve tabled for so long! keep a list to remind yourself of your hobbies for when youre manic- looking at it may get you excited!

4. want to completely change your life, quit your job and move to a different country? move some furniture, do some reorganizing, clean the house, or throw out some stuff you dont need anymore. for this i like to put on those cleaning/reorganization shows or organizing video compilations on in the background to get me pumped up.

5. feeling restless? go to a new place. for this i say it depends on the level of restlessness what the solution is. mild restlessness (aka "urghhh im bored") calls for a walk/drive in a new direction/one you usually dont go in (NOT A ROAD TRIP, you manic motherfucker). moderate to severe restlessness (aka "there's nothing to DO IM GONNA BITE SOMETHING") calls for going to a new place, like a museum, library, even a waterfront you haven't been to before.

6. wanna do a bunch of drugs and/or party? hang out with some friends instead. if you normally do some drugs (cigarettes weed alcohol), do them around friends who know your situation so you dont overdo it. and i say only those three drugs because dear god, everything else will just make you more manic. note: be careful with some strains of weed while manic, particularly sativa-dominant- they can cause more mania and hallucinations.

7. racing thoughts? DRAW. even if youre not an artist or cant draw worth a shit, DRAW. manic drawings are actually a whole thing in psychology and are SO COOL TO LOOK AT. I even have a tattoo of a drawing i did while manic! just let your hands move freely on the page with whatever tools you feel like using.

a lot of these tactics can be swapped out with each other depending on what helps your moods. if reorganizing when youre restless helps, then great! if when you wanna change your life you go to a new place, awesome. whatever works for you! these are just some ideas. i keep this list pinned on my phone so that when im manic i remember.

if you have any suggestions, please add them!

#bipolar disorder #mania #bipolar #lessons of the hand and the mouth #harm reduction

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

BESTIE DROP THE WORLDBUILDING (OR THE DISCORD) I WANNA HEAR ALL ABOUT IT CAN WE BE ADHD ABOUT OUR OLI-CENTRIC WORLDBUILDING TOGETHERGJFHGD- *is dragged away*

i don’t have discord so i’ll just have to talk about it here

you’re making me procrastinate my x life oli drawing but that’s ok he’s the king of procrastination it’s what he would’ve wanted

so. *insane person voice* from my limited empires season 2 knowledge i’ve decided that server is what happens when multiple separate timelines are all forced together. (crickets)

“sage. what the fuck are you on about” well i’ll tell ya. so. the entire premise of c!oli is that he is the Same Fucking Guy no matter what server he’s in- most of the time- and that he just keeps getting isekaid into different dimensions like the freak that he is.

so in afterlife, he returned to an Empty Server that was supposed to be shut down by fucking God or something idk. but they can’t shut it down while there’s still a living breathing player there. aka oli. so when oli reached his final life and went to heaven ig they were like Fucking Finally please get that guy out of here. so pearls like yeah ok ^_^ you can stay here and oli said fuck that so she said fuck you and kicked him out. but he can’t go back to afterlife cause that’s not a thing anymore so he just ended up in the middle of fucking nowhere and was like guess this is my life now. and that effectively Broke the Motherfucking World (good job king)

so oli fucked around, found out, and accidentally banished himself to limbo for a long fucking time but that’s not relevant right now. so the world in the meantime was like Ok we got that guy out of here let’s try and fix the very essence of space time or whatever. but then it Didn’t which resulted in roughly 13 different timelines all converging in one place, which is why all the emperors are such different species and from such different backgrounds (joel being an Actual God, lizzie being from somewhere where anthro animals are a normal thing, whatever the fuck falses deal was, etc)

after that all happened the World was like oh shit. we fucked that up. i guess that’s enough time in The Void for oli so they let him out and that’s how he ended up in a world full of multiple alternate universe versions of his friends and also falsesymmetry

that being said, the world is a broken story that wants to at the very least be a slightly fixed story with an ending. so it keeps trying to fix itself, however it is Massively Fucked and instead the Rift happens, which was also slightly olis fault cause again, he broke the world

so then enters hermitcraft, which is also a world full of colliding timelines but 100x more stable if you don’t count the apocalypse. and that happens but it wasn’t supposed to and like i said the world just wants to fix itself so eventually the rift closes and all the hermits go home 👍

things are fairly calm after that, and tbh the esmp2 ending was kinda mid imo but i do have some very canon divergent ideas about what happened when Oli “broke the world” Orionsound goes BACK THROUGH WHATS LEFT OF THE RIFT and ends up somewhere else but this has already gotten too long so. there’s that

#10piecetalks #empires smp #empires s2 #theorionsound #<- i put too much thought into this to let it go unseen #anyways. yayyyyy #<- guy who thinks about their au too much

[hush-writes-preg]

I only want one baby at a time…but I’d really like to hear about how they’ll get *out* as well as how they’d get in ;p

There's absolutely nothing wrong with aiming for one at a time! *****

Well, the baby would get in you the old-fashioned way-- though perhaps not the most conventional way.

We'd start out the night curled up together on the sofa, watching a movie, like we do sometimes. You're tucked under my arm, curled against my side, as I casually run my fingers through your hair. Soft. Warm. Safe.

But it doesn't stay casual for long, because your hands like to wander as much as mine do. Soon enough your fingers are skimming over my groin, tracing me through the fabric of my jeans while you watch the bulge beneath start to grow. My hand slides over your neck, skimming over flushed skin and the fain thrumming of blood within your veins before dipping lower and sliding into your shirt. My thumb teases at the peaking nub of your nipple when my fingers aren't fondling the curve of your chest, squeezing it gently until your breath catches.

The movie continues murmuring in the background when my patience grows thin and I pull you over my lap, your thighs straddling me so you can rub yourself against my arousal. You like that, don't you? Rocking your hips and pleasuring yourself against my cock until you start to beg for more? To be taken, filled, bred. That's right, go ahead and do that, you greedy little thing. Hump me until your pants grow damp with need and your breaths grows short.

I'll haul you up at the same time I yank your pants down, just enough to expose your soft, dripping body to view. I'll suckle and nip at your nipples through your shirt as I fumble the fly of my jeans open, pulling myself out. A little more teasing, a little lube, and then…

Then all you have to do is sink down.

Down, down, swallowing my thick rod into your body with surprising ease. The look on your face as it disappears within is priceless, the fluttering lashes and trembling lips of a wanton creature such as you only making my cock jerk with lust.

I can't possibly make you wait any longer, can I? So I grab your hips and make you start to ride.

You cling to my shoulders as I use your body, driving up into your tight heat without an ounce of mercy. Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me, helplessly holding on as best you can while I chase after my own pleasure. That's what gets you off, isn't it? Being unable to do anything more than clutch at me while I pump your body up and down, plunging deep inside of you over and over again, my balls tight with the promise of seed as they slap against you.

Take it. Take it deep. You're so good when you submit to me like this, when you relax and let me take control. You trust me to know when it is and isn't a safe time of the month for you, to decide when I want to make your belly swell, to wield my authority over you with a loving, velvet touch.

So when I grab you by the chin and pin you with my gaze, you know. And when I yank you down to pour my cum into your fertile body, your eyes roll back and you shatter in my arms. *****

Nine months pass rather quickly when you've got a baby on the way, don't they?

There's so much to do, so much to think about, all while your body slowly swells with the life growing inside of you. Your hips flare, your chest grows tender, and your belly balloons outward into a gorgeous dome that seems to draw my touch like a magnet. I keep you well-sated during that time, don't I? Always peeking, always stroking, until we're both so wound up that I have to bend you over the bed.

You've never done this before, so you're not familiar with the signs. The cramps, the back pain, all of the usual symptoms of labor are easily explained away in your mind, so it's not until you're breathing through another painful cramp in the middle of the kitchen that you realize what's happening. You feel the faint pop within you just before a warm trickle starts down the inside of your thigh, and you feel your face burn with shame.

Maybe you just wet yourself, maybe it's just some leftover cum from when I fucked you earlier in the morning, maybe… eventually your pregnancy-addled mind catches up and realization hits.

You call out for me, panic coloring your voice as you clutch at the counter, and I'm quickly at your side to soothe you. It's okay, really it is, so just relax. You know we're not going to the hospital-- we already agreed that you're giving birth at home, with me by your side.

So we time your contractions. We walk you around the house, pausing to breathe through the worst of the pain, as you feel the baby start its slow descent into your pelvis. The pressure, oh gods, the pressure, splitting you open and making your waddle even worse. You can feel the baby squirming within you, upset by the way its home is shifting and forcing it lower. You struggle against the urge to push, to drop into a squat and bear down with all of your might, just to get this thing out of you--

Stay calm for me, sweetheart. You'll be alright.

We position you in front of a chair when it's time, letting you rest on your knees and clutch at the seat while you thrust your lovely bottom out to expose everything for me. I can see your hole flutter as you strain, the same hole that I emptied my seed into now stretching around the head of our child. You're panting, moaning, begging for relief with your huge belly hanging low beneath you, but we both know that relief will only come once you've finished. Once you've given birth to our baby.

So I remain crouched behind you as you arch and scream, your body pulsing around the infant as it slowly drives it out. I watch the teardrop-shaped opening stretch wider around the dark, damp head, growing bigger and bigger until the end of a contraction and the inevitable relaxation pulls it back inside. But you endure. You make me proud as you refuse to let it overwhelm you, screaming out your frustration just like you screamed out my name all those months ago.

I watch your rounded, fecund body move in its most primal state, struggling to expel a new life into this world. And it is beautiful.

So even when the next contraction forces you so far open that you're sobbing from the burn, the head peeking almost impossibly large from between your outstretched legs, I'm there for you. I'm there when you push so hard that the head suddenly pops free of your confining hole in a gush of fluid. I'm there to cradle that tiny face and help ease the shoulders from inside of you while you strain and press at your taut, engorged belly. And I'm there to chuckle at the almost obscene sound of relief that falls from your lips when the rest of that tiny body finally slips free, right into my waiting hands.

What comes after is a bit of a blur, but eventually, I'm able to settle you back in our bed with our little one curled up against your chest. Your belly is still swollen, though softened and a little diminished, and the fatigue in your eyes is unmistakable, but there's also a sense of pride there too, isn't there? Pride at how well you handled your labor, for what you made for me, and I know it's reflected in my eyes.

I lean down to press a gentle kiss against your abdomen. It's a silent promise that I won't leave it empty for too long.

#hush answers #trans breeding #transpreg #trans pregnancy #ftm breeding #ftm pregnancy #mtf breeding #mtf pregnancy #nb breeding #nb pregnancy #trans birth #tw: birth #hush writes preg

[orchid-151]

I had some ideas for the journey Orchid and her group were going to take, I haven't fully planned them out but if any of you all like this idea involving your OC's do let me know... Or if you don't like the idea then also let me know because I can change/shorten the 'Inner Evil' arc...

I will list a small summary for each picture...

Again, these are just ideas... if any of you don't want your OC to show up for a mini arc just let me know... I won't do it if you ask me not to.

Under readmore because long...

@lilium2034 Amicus and Fidus

The idea is after they reach land, Mason stirs up an argument with Orchid about not needing to be so reckless with her actions with her firing comments back at him about trying to be a team player... After she walks away to blow off steam when she runs into the Duo. Amicus heals her shoulder while hearing her out and tries to give her some good advice...

I might add more when I get to that part but that's it for that mini arc...

@asktotallyhuman Sarah

To be fair, I have been reading all I can about this girl and her village, and thought of a good arc where Orchid goes alone and tries to make a bargain with Sarah to help her brother and the group. Orchid would stay and make a few double chests of 'God Apples' and Sanah would allow Mason and the others to pass and continue (Valkyrie and Archie would be given two of the 'rings' to make them look like villagers)...

I don't think Sanah is evil but I think she would rig a double chest to drain the apples into another dozen double chest below Orchid cell making her work even harder to make more apples then offered... Only later finding out more about the strange Illager and finding that Orchid is literally going to kill herself trying to fill the last chest to fulfill her end of the bargain...

In the end, Sanah does a good deed and finally lets Orchid go after letting her recover... But Sanah's mindset of Illagers doesn't change. And Orchid understands that, tell Sanah she can keep the extra 'God Apples' for an emergency with no ill will to the human...

Not fully planned out again but again, I don't think Sanah is evil... Just untrusting of ANY Illager that comes to her with a bargain...

@ask-wretched Wretched

(Damn is Wretch hard to draw for me... Even if it is just his foot 😓)

Ok, this idea was running a mug through my head for a while now so here is some of the idea...

As Orchid's group continues on, they start running into some of Drake's forces... While Orchid goes looking for some ingredients for a few potions a small party of four ambushes her in a cave mouth and chases her into it. One uses a tipped arrow with blindness on it and aims it at her. Orchid suddenly notices that she had blindly ran into a Wardens territory and stops to hide and be quiet... Only to get hit by a tipped arrow in the back and knocked down... The 4 are then 'mowed down' by the warden of the area, obviously being loud and aggravated when they found their target and almost lost her... Orchid tries to get up but realizes she is low on health and is blind for who-knows-how-long...

Wretch would be humongous next to Orchid and if he did try to help would probably be scared to even hold her, she so smol... (I don't have her exact measurements yet... Maybe 4"6' or 4"10' somewhere in that range of shortness...)

(originally I was going to have her a few weeks pregnant with Smith's child but I might not do that... Unless y'all like the idea of more drama but I don't think I'll do it.)

And there you go, four ideas I had for mini arcs in the comic, I still plan to put the few OC's in the background in some panels so be looking out for the small cameos~

#asktotallyhuman #ask wretched #lilium2034 #fidus and amicus #fidus #amicus #sarah #wretch #others ocs #minecraft oc #minecraft #illagers #heros #warden #just some idea mini arcs i had

[asksoldieron]

SO-12: The Spirit of Harpo Marx

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for Alight at the Window (SO-12) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Awwwwww, ya know? Awwwwww ❤️!

Poor Erik is in ⚡🔋no shape🔋⚡ to communicate, but he's doing his best. Maggie has no idea whether he's messing with her on purpose, or what's wrong with him, but she won't let him go. They'll get to him eventually. (I've just finished that part, actually. They've got him! Uh. Sorta. At least he's... safe now? 😅Oh, I can't say that with a straight face.)

This is the last of my queued posts/instalments, and I have no idea where my reading and drawing ability will be when it goes live. If I can't update you on my condition (and the condition of the next six instalments) I'll hafta have the spouse type a note for me. I want to do six more right away, or I might take a two week break, or - if I'm really struggling - it'll be a break of indeterminate length. I hope I'll be okay to just keep going, my Patrons have been so patient this year. Thanks, y'all.

But, either way, there will be a break at some point, because I'll have a while where I can't write or draw and that's going to eat up my backlog. Also, recent updates have done more stupid things to my theme and I think the site needs a redesign - maybe including some radical simplification. I'm just not mobile friendly and I can't make the current format behave. People with better eyesight than me do a lot of reading on their phones.

I have no idea how to build a community and I'm flailing, really, but maybe if I can get the interface more convenient, more people will like me? (I have no idea. Probably they won't.)

Look, though! You've got some extra art to tide you over! And a song!

I'm not in love with how Erik's design looks right now - he looks like a train wreck, but he should look like a train wreck. Nobody is going to fix his hair. I still feel self-conscious about it. He used to be cute. I've got to do a full-body rendering of how he'll clean up, but I don't have time for it now.

However, I did do a page of something trying to get comfortable with his ability to emote in train reck form. I don't have time to finish it, but I think it looks cool so I'm sharing.

This is potentially a way for me to serve you the music without lyric backgrounds that you can't read! It's very labour-intensive, but I was figuring out how to do it and it might get a little easier with practice. Also, my current tablet is struggling with the resolution and I plan to update it by the end of the year - depending on sale prices.

After I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I found out the original Off-Broadway incarnation had filked music with lyrics by John Cameron Mitchell. 🥹😊I'm calling it! This is something other people sharing my identity do to tell their stories! Filk musicals are an enby thing! We do not give a shit about the music industry's copyrights! I'm performing nonbinary correctly!

So here's the lyrics again, and maybe I'll give you the rest in comic form as my vision and my tools improve.

You Are Found! (based on "We Are Young" by fun.) I need a minute, I… I don’t know if I’m ready yet I’m tryin’ to get my shit together, Maggie, please don’t be upset My family must be looking for me somewhere very near Guess I knew you must be coming but I can’t believe you’re here, and… It’s been forever since I’ve seen your face I know you want to take me home But although it hurts to do this work they need my help for what it’s worth —  Oh, gods I’m not sure if I wanna go So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand, You’ll steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down No, I wanna go home I’m just not done I guess that I, I just hoped We could visit and I’d get right back to work But I can’t go yet So I must forget 'Cause I think you’ll hafta steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) The gods have their own plan (na na na na na na) But I’m just one weary man (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away at last (na na na na na na) I have so much to do (na na na na na na) How can I go with you? (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away (na na na na na na) At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand You’ll steal me away at last

See you soon! Ha, I hope!

Late edit: Two week break, folks. No drawing ability yet, so we're stuck with it. I still hope to get you the next six by the end of the year. I'll keep you posted!

[Back to Site?]

#tin soldier and soldier on #instalment #engagement lounge #music #covers #comic #lyrics

[baalzebubuu]

So. Why exactly do you think the head of HR would chastise and insult one of her bosses for doing something that, while risky, was the only thing that could be done at the time to keep Kronos locked away AND reawaken the Underworld? And WHY would they then treat said boss like a fool for being freaked out over her powers seemingly inverting when, 1.) her powers were working as they usually do up until spring, and 2.) there were few known precedents over what Erebos would do to those that make deals with them (i.e. as far as we can see, Hades didn't get his pre-king powers "inverted")? I understand that you have your gripes with LO (some I can even agree with), but damn, at least be fair with your critiques, and also maybe don't mock these characters for having certain bodily features that are often the focus of negative attention IRL...

(P.S. No Greek god/goddess would accept a nymph insulting them to their face like that - they've done far worse for lesser, and even indirect insults, and a nymph being the "Head of HR" in the Underworld OR Olympus realistically wouldn't save them from that wrath, ESPECIALLY if it's coming from the queens themselves; yes, I also saw your Hera post - Hera may be leery of Demeter at times, but she's far from being genuinely terrified of her (ep. 188 clearly shows this), and please remember that Persephone was in danger due to MINTHE'S jealousy over a damn tabloid photo, not Hera's (you know, the GODDESS OF MARRIAGE, who's allowed to play matchmaker if she sees chemistry between people since THAT'S ONE OF HER JOBS, and who also likely wanted to give Persephone experiences outside of the latter's sheltered life) decision to have Persephone intern in the Underworld.)

All good points! These comics are meant to be mostly skits just what the fans always wanted to say to the characters themselves so I don’t really take them seriously in terms of plot or any of that nature

Also I’m not really much for posting here on tumblr

But DW I’ll answer the best I can with some background lore I have currently in store

Originally Gunnarr was a Humble devoted loyal Mage Serving under Freya the most powerful revered goddess in the Norse Pantheon and they were sent Away under Mysterious Circumstances

And they’re placed in high regard by many connections with Justice goddesses due to their good behavior and devotion to them Which somewhat explains why they’ve gotten away with the BadMouthing certain scenes and if any god ever really does anything to HR Freya definitely won’t be too happy about it and would cause a whole dispute between pantheon

As for Getting away with badmouthing with Hades and Keeping him on his Toes HR and Hades have a very long history working for him for up to thousand or so years

HR and Hades Essentially had a relationship just like Bojack Horseman and Princess Carolyn

And HR essentially is completely done with his Foolishness and 99% of The Olympus Family

To the point of calling them out at with whatever legal problems the gods will cause as even if they DIE being called out HR gonna die knowing he was right and essentially their point proved

they don’t really care if they Die by Their hands

( till they eventually became nicer Because of their poly relationship)

As for the part about Persephone reaching That Tower because of Minthe

I was Planning on making a comic about it soon where HR talks to Minthe and gives her consequences but I never really had that much planning how to execute it right

As for how i usually draw Persephone I was mostly following along to how other creators were doing things, not much thought put into it

However that I will apologize for since i do admit they are in bad taste

Let me know if I’m missing a part that I forgot to explain

Edit: Also i am very sorry this post was poorly written I suck at explanations

And it’s the morning by the time I made this post and I’m heading to work atm

I very much apologize for this lackluster explanation

#lore olympus hr

[madbuns]

Your Tobirama TMA!au has me frothing at the mouth. Eye and Flesh avatar? Amazing. I SO BADLY wanna hear your headcanons on the other founders

apologies if this took a while but Oh BOI DO I GOT SOMETHING FOR YOU BECAUSE I'M ABOUT TO OVERSHARE THIS

LETS GOOOOO (part one because I'll do Izuna and Mito and add in drawings next time)

Hashirama:

- he's an avatar of the eye in this, how he became it's avatar all I can say it started with a book and a tree.

- Chose him as an eye avatar because it links to his title of God of Shinobi to me, like the Eye of Beholding sees all and knows all so it works well djfjfkf

- he has eyes everywhere.

- he's manipulated and controlled several situations a lot as to how he is basically the reason why the others have become what they are, though he does this as a means of protecting them somewhat, specifically Madara and Tobirama

- He's founder of the Senju institute of research

- keeps tight tabs on Madara and Tobirama

Madara:

- The former Messiah of the Uchiha, the Avatar of the Desolation who also became the Avatar of the lonely

- similar to the situation with Agnes Montague because I've been debating whether or not he fits with the desolation or the lonely though since mix n match is a thing so he is both connected to the desolation and the lonely (despair of loss and potential, the isolation and depression of being alone and nobody and abandoned, etc)

- in this the Uchiha is a cult

- Madara was at first binded to Tobirama who was an infant at the time, by Hashirama as to prevent the desolation ritual.

-This forced Madara and the rest of his followers to lay low for a while because the bind tamed his fire, instead of burning and blazing brightly as if it was about to burn a whole city down it became like the sun, bright, warm, yet so, so far away and much more tamed.

- had at first waited until Tobirama grew older so he could get close to him and kill him to break the bind, falls in love with him instead and this complicates things

- He ends up getting taken by the lonely when he did one last help of favour for Hashirama in order to find Tobi, which ended in Madara being engulfed into the lonely and his fire disappearing entirely as well as his isolation from his group because of him falling for Tobirama, but also because of Tobirama killing Izuna so aha

- as the Desolation avatar he looked no different like how he is usually except for eyes that would flare red as he would make those magma fiery fire that could burn and melt you up hot, eating your despair and potential and leaving anguish and lost hope. But then as the lonely avatar all that colour got sucked away away so he looks like his rinnegan form :9 but more soggy and misty

Tobirama:

- Avatar of the Eye and Flesh, though more of being associated and marked as one of the beholding's own as he worked in the archival teams in the Institute, almost being promoted as an archivist until he turned into the flesh avatar due to one little accident

- he really would have fit as a lonely avatar because of his suiton and his whole colour scheme being blue but also he is a necromancer and knowledge man at heart and honestly he's like a flesh guy and eye guy to me so kdfkdkdk

- since young he had been raised by Hashirama, remember him far and long as brother and follows him loyally

- on the contrary however he doesn't know about his bind to Madara, most of his life revolved around the archives, Hashirama, his team, and Madara who pops in time to time pestering him.

- He gets notified to do a bit of background research for one of the statements and he almost becomes sacrifice to a cult of the flesh who he managed to stop with the help of Madara, although he also found a leitner book which, Madara does not know

- now this is where it starts a change because Tobirama pre-this he had a healthy shade of pale skin and rosiness to it, sometimes the vibe of eyes that make it feel like he's watching you kinda, but after that book he starts changing as his skin gets paler to the point it matches his snow white hair, his eyes that were like a dark shade of red with irises still turned a bright crimson red with no iris in sight, and red markings of inscriptions all over him written in his own blood, carved into his body that became larger and more, uncanny and at that point he stopped coming to work and nobody knew where he went

- Except for Hashirama of course, and Madara who was told by Hashirama

- He was also part of turning Madara into an Avatar of the lonely :V, by killing Izuna :VV

#tma!founders au #Senju Hashirama #Uchiha madara #senju tobirama #Mango writes #asks #I was going to give like a drawing for this #but the artblock said no do lorax and op art so orjtkrdndk #and chibis #but dw tho I'll be doing it soon

[nacaharachuya]

Okay so i realised im a fucking idiot and that i’ve been sending you shit through “?” And i have no idea where those messages go through so whoopdy doo ig but in my defence i wasnt able to send anything any other way bc.. uhh.. yeah my email wasn’t confirmed n all that. Im telling u man i’m a whole ass boomer rn🤦‍♀️ can’t even remember how to send an ask smh.

Anyways i only now finished reading svs because i’ve been putting it off in favour of reading different fics (works from other fandoms and… ooc soukoku fics. Listen i hate mischaracterisation as much as the next guy but i find them very entertaining okay) and AAAUURGGHH WHAT A BANGER. The way you write is immaculate if svs was a food it’d have a savoury taste like i’d be liking my fingers n shit. I found out about it when you posted on twitter you updated it (it was the smut chapter, by the way) and i was like “huh” and decided to read it and my god am i glad I didn’t skip over that tweet.

Idk if this was on purpose or not but verlaine is kinda cringefail in your fic and i love it. I am a firm believer that as badass as verlaine is he is undeniably embarrassing and i need MORE of that.

My one criticism for svs is that we needed more adam scenes. He should have been added like really, unnecessarily early on in the fic and act as a third wheel in the fic. But like a third wheel soukoku did not want or ask for but he’s just kinda there they can’t really get rid of him. Chuuya and dazai in their divorce arc arguing and adam is in the background thinking “i could crack a really funny joke from this” (on that note i added the lines “Adam’s blabbering makes more sense now, so they act as if nothing has happened. “When I lift this veil, you will seal the deal with a kiss.” He can’t stop himself from laughing, “I hope you enjoyed that joke too.” “We didn’t,” Verlaine says from across the shrine. “Paul be quiet.”” In my “collection of fanfic lines I chuckled at” in my notes. He’s so silly i love him. I love how he laughs at his own jokes he just like me fr.)

Anyways here are like two extra svs doodles. I keep thinking about how you said that chuu can fluctuate between genders (literally) and its so… zamn.

And reading the scene where verlaine is brushing chuuya’s hair inspired me to draw this

I have no idea how long chuuya’s hair is supposed to be like idk if it’s “yeah his hair is a little longer than it is in canon haha” or “yeah mf got some LONG ass hair looking like rapunzel”. Also I don’t remember if his lil ribbon was red or blue but.. i jus went with blue and i didn’t know if the pearls were supposed to be like on his head or woven into his braid so i just went with the latter. And again ALSO i know he was barefoot but i’m not drawing his fucking dogs okay.

This ask is long as hell never let me talk again LMAO

Currently looking at a detail i forgot in the drawing… not pointing it out in hopes you don’t notice it either smh but GOD DAMMIT 🤬🤬🤬

DAWG I OPENED THIS YESTERDAY IN SHOCK IA M ALWAYS BLOWN AWAY BY YOUR ASKS AND ART IT MAKES ME FEEL SO LOVED AND SO CRAZY LIKE!?!?! I'M SO GLAD YOU LOVED IT ENOUGH TO MAKE ART I SAVE IT AND LOOK AT IT CONSTANTLY ;_; IM LIKE.....

AND ALSO THANK YOU. I need svs criticism and ur right I should have introduced more characters earlier I just got carried away with skk because...IDK BUT ADAM WAS MY SAVING GRACEE. He was so silly I wanted to add him sooner but I was like wait....no... BUT HE IS IN THE SEQUEL!!! DW!!! His silly ass is there and he's cracking them jokes and Verlaine is like o_o. THE ADAM LINES WERE SO FUN TOO CAUSE HE'S NOT CRINGE HE'S JUST....HIM.

Verlaine is cringe-fail on purpose tho and I'm glad you saw that because I see him as an incredibly pathetic person who can't do normal human things. He would like bite open a metal can or rip it open with his hands because he doesn't know what a can opener is. He is that type of guy.

The art is just immaculate bro like straight-up BEAUTIFUL. Chuuya's literal genderfluidity is something I'm glad people like cause when I imagine divinity I think of someone not bound by sex or gender and whatnot plus I just don't think he'd give a fart. so like....world's most wonderful tits...but he's shorter.

THE WEDDING OUTFIT IS SENDING ME TO THE GRAVE THO LIKE. IT"S PERFECT AND IDK WHAT DETAIL YOU MISSED CAUSE I FORGET EVERYTHING BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT I"M. THE HAIR LENGTH I DIDN"T SPECIFIY !!! He looks so *crying emoji cause I don't have my phone* you don't have to draw his toes I just think barefoot chuu running up the stairs to meet dazai is very him. perseverance.

BOYCACA WHAT IS YOUR TWT LET ME FOLLOW YOU AND BOTHER YOU THERE AND SPREAD THE BOYCACA AGENDA

#asks #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #dazai #chuuya #silver soul #my writing #boycaca #boy caca art is so juicy AGAIN