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notlongtolove · 7 months ago

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your hand in my hand

after derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with reid, hotch’s solution was to pair you with spencer instead. and between your notorious driving and spencer’s—well, spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: mutual pining spencer and bau!reader embark on a 4 hour train ride and share some cute moments over a wordsearch book

word count: 3.1k

note: finished finals n hopped on a flight n came back n wrote this on 4 hours of sleep jst bc i couldn't get the idea of a train ride out of my head...

a line: The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs.

It’s beautiful out there— fields, little lakes and winter trees in February sunlight, every car park a shining mosaic. Long radiant minutes, your hand in my hand, still warm, still warm. -wendy cope

“I still think this is a terrible idea.”

“It’s only a four-hour train ride.”

“Yeah, but it could’ve been a two-hour drive.”

“Two? It’s three at the minimum. Danville is—”

“Not if I’m driving,” you smirk.

“And that is exactly why I told Hotch I would not be getting in a car with you.”

Hotch had assigned you and Spencer to check out a secondary lead while the rest of the team travelled out to work a case. After Derek’s less-than-intellectual speech about how he was not spending four uninterrupted hours on a train with Reid, Hotch’s solution was to pair you with Spencer instead. And between your notorious driving and Spencer’s—well, Spencer’s worse driving, the only logical option was the train.

Not that it stopped Spencer from pointing out every possible flaw in your driving on the way to the station.

“I’m not that bad, I swear!” you had protested, rolling your eyes.

“You got two speeding tickets in the last two months.”

“One month,” Garcia had chimed in over the phone. “And actually, technically, it’s three tickets.”

You groaned. “The third one didn’t count! The cop was just—”

“And don’t even get me started on your sense of direction,” Spencer mumbled.

“Pretty girl, I love you, but I’d get in a car with Reid before you, and that’s saying a lot,” Morgan’s voice rang out from over the line.

“Thank you!—Wait, hey!” Spencer spluttered.

By the time you make it to the station, its clear that your BAU Jet Privileges had not prepared you for public transportation. “Wheels up in thirty” definitely did not translate to “trains only leave when you’re ready.”

“Can’t we just tell them we’re, like, important or something?” you grumbled, stretching to peek over the crowd in front of you.

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Spencer muttered, clutching his satchel as he scanned the line. His brow furrowed in that nervous way you’ve come to recognize, the one he always got when cases ran too close to the wire or people hovered just a little too close in his personal space.

As they announced the final boarding call over the station’s intercom, Spencer’s anxiety ramped up, practically vibrating beside you. You, of course, were less concerned. “Relax,” you teased, nudging him. “What are they gonna do, leave without us?”

“Yes,” Spencer snapped. “That’s actually exactly what they’re going to do.”

When a harried-looking attendant opened a new line to speed things up, Spencer grabbed your bag—“God, what is in here?”—and marched you both toward the front of the queue.

“You two together?” she asked, as she gestured between the two of you.

“Oh, uh, no—just friends,” Spencer stammered, color rising in his cheeks.

She blinked at him.

“Spence, she’s referring to our tickets.”

“Oh! Right, right.” He fumbled with his pocket as you handed yours over, suppressing a grin.

Flustered Spencer was your favorite Spencer. Of course, you’d never admit it out loud, but there was something endlessly endearing about seeing him off-balance, especially if you were the cause. Not the encyclopedia, not the profiler, just Spencer. It was a rare glimpse into the version of him you cherished most. The Spencer who remembered your coffee order, who stayed up with you in hotel lobbies when you’ve had one too many said cups of coffee, who once held your hand for 15 whole minutes after you found a kid’s drawing in a victim’s room and couldn’t keep it together.

It was also a little dangerous. Not in the same way your driving was dangerous (though Spencer might argue otherwise), but in the way where you sometimes wondered if you’d crossed some invisible line. If the lingering hugs and casual touches that weren’t exactly casual meant more than either of you were willing to say. But those were dangerous thoughts, ones best left in the quiet recesses of your mind. So you pushed them aside, as you always did, and focused on the here and now.

The here and now being Spencer, still blushing faintly as he grabbed your bag and adjusted it over his shoulder, his brow furrowed with some internal muttering about how much you packed. When the attendant waved you through with a tired smile and Spencer started making a beeline for your platform with your bag in tow, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Thanks, partner,” you teased, earning a glare that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just get on the train,” he grumbled, turning away before you could see the corners of his lips twitch upward.

The two of you made your way through the carriages after a brief but spirited debate about whether to walk outside along the platform to reach your assigned car or board the train immediately and navigate through it. Predictably, Spencer had won, and now you were squeezing past narrow aisles and weaving through clusters of passengers with a litany of “Excuse me,” “I’m so sorry,” and even a “I didn’t mean to step on your foot sir,” from you.

By the time you finally reached your carriage, the train had already started moving. Spencer shot you a pointed “I told you so” look that made you roll your eyes as you flopped into your seat. Spencer wrinkled his nose as he lowered himself hesitantly into the seat beside yours, clearly doing his best not to make contact with any of the surfaces he deemed less than pristine. His discomfort was almost palpable, the slight twitch of his fingers betraying his thoughts. Public transport wasn’t exactly his favorite—as he’d once explained in great detail, something about microbial colonies on handrails and seats. You leaned back, watching as he tried to situate himself, his satchel perched protectively on his lap like it might shield him from the horrors of public commuting.

“So,” you said, hoping to distract him, “what joys of reading did you bring along for this glorious journey?”

Spencer glanced at you, then sighed, reaching into his bag. “The Sign of Four,” he said, taking out a well-loved copy of the Sherlock Holmes novel.

“Ooh, a classic,” you replied with an approving nod.

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he settled into the question, visibly relaxing, if only a little. His fingers smoothed the corner of his book, but his eyes stayed on you, curious.

You grinned, the kind of grin that promised trouble—or at least something Spencer would find mildly exasperating. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the chaos of receipts, snacks, and whatever else you’d deemed necessary for a four-hour train ride.

“You’re not going to watch something on your phone again are you?” Spencer said, his tone laced with a mix of exasperation and earnest concern. “You do realize that watching something on a phone during a train ride is fundamentally different from doing so on a jet, right?"

“Hold your horses,” you said, your tone light and teasing. “It’s in here somewhere.”

Spencer continued, "The vibrations and lateral motion of the train create a parallax effect that forces your eyes to constantly refocus, which can lead to ocular fatigue and even mild vertigo in some cases—”

“Calm down,” you interrupted, cutting off his impromptu lecture as you pulled out a shiny new word search book. You held it up triumphantly. “Snagged it in the station lobby.”

“I thought you said you needed the restroom.”

“I did,” you said, smirking as you flipped through the book’s pages. “And then I saw this. Couldn’t resist.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, glancing at the bright, cartoonish cover. “It says meant for ages 10 and up.”

“And last I checked, I am most definitely over the ripe old age of 10, Genius.”

Spencer shook his head, a small, begrudging smile finally breaking through his earlier apprehension. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a lightness in his voice now that made you grin even wider

“And yet,” you countered, “here you are, stuck with me for the next four hours. Lucky you.”

Spencer sighed dramatically, but you didn’t miss the warmth in his eyes.

The train rattled gently as it picked up speed, the two of you settling into your books. Spencer had opened his novel, but the words on the page blurred as his attention kept drifting. You weren’t exactly helping—constantly shifting in your seat, furrowing your brow in concentration as you hunched over your word search book. He tried to focus, he really did, but his gaze kept flicking away from the neat lines of his novel.

You were stuck on the word minimal when he finally caved.

“Top left, vertically,” he said without looking up.

Your brows furrowed for a moment before Spencer reached over and pointed it out for you. “Oh, thanks!” you replied cheerfully, circling the word with gusto.

At first, it had been helpful, funny even, maybe even a little cute. But by the third time he chimed in with a casual, “Parachute. Bottom right, backwards,” you were ready to stage a mutiny.

“You’re ruining word search!” you declared, tearing the book away from his gaze, clutching it dramatically to your chest.

Spencer laughed, an unrestrained, boyish sound that made your cheeks flush. “It’s not my fault you’re so bad at it!”

You gasped, leveling him with a mock glare. “Spencer Reid, you take that back right now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning, “but it’s like you have horse blinders on or something.”

“Oh, if you’re so good, why don’t you do it?”

It wasn’t a challenge so much as an invitation, but Spencer, being Spencer, took it as both. He snatched the book from your hands, scanned the grid, and completed the puzzle in a little under two minutes.

“Show-off,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help smiling as he handed it back launching into an explanation about linguistic patterns and visual recognition.

You both settled into a rhythm, solving the rest of the puzzles side by side. You held the pencil—because, as you put it, you deserved the pencil holding honor—though Spencer still pointed out words before you even had a chance to finish reading the list.

“Butterfly. Horizontal, top left,” he said without missing a beat.

“I saw that! I was getting to it!” you protested, circling the word with exaggerated flair.

Spencer smiled to himself as he watched you, his book long forgotten. Just as you had your favorite version of him, he had his own of you, one he’d never admit aloud. There was something about these little moments—when your carefully curated wit gave way to playful exasperation—that he absolutely adored. No clever retorts, no sharp-edged humor, just you.

The two of you had been working on the word search together for a while now, the small book balanced precariously on the shared armrest between your seats. Naturally, you’d both leaned in closer without realizing it, the space between you narrowing as the train rattled along. But after a few jerks on the track Spencer notices you shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your expression tightening just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle as he glanced at you.

“Armrest’s digging into my side,” you admitted, twisting a little as if to escape the offending object, the smile you tried to muster falling a little short.

“Ah,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact, “Put it up, then.”

The version of you from an hour ago might have quipped something sarcastic, turning the moment into yet another teasing exchange. But travel fatigue had set in, and the closeness of Spencer—his voice, his warmth, the way he seemed to notice everything—had you more flustered than you cared to admit.

“Oh. Okay,” you murmured, your voice quieter than usual as you moved the armrest up and shifted in your seat. The tension in your posture eased as you repositioned, feeling the strain fade.

“Better?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he studied your face.

“Mm. Slightly.” you replied, though the truth was that it was a lot better. Without the armrest, you found yourself acutely aware of how close he was—his arm brushing against yours, the subtle scent of his cologne, the way his knee bumped against yours when the train swayed.

Spencer nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but the faintest hint of a smile lingered on his lips. He shifted slightly too and returned his attention to the forgotten book in his lap. But his fingers drummed idly on the cover, and you could tell his focus was no longer on Sherlock Holmes.

“Let me guess,” you said after a moment, trying to ground yourself in the familiarity of banter. “You’re going to tell me the science behind why train seats are designed to be this uncomfortable?”

Spencer glanced at you, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Actually, I was going to say that the armrests are poorly engineered for optimal comfort. But now that you mention it—”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” you interrupted, groaning as you rolled your eyes, though your grin betrayed you. “Spare me the ergonomics lecture, Doctor Reid.”

Without the armrest dividing you, the space between your shoulders disappeared almost entirely, a quiet sort of intimacy neither of you acknowledged aloud. At first, it was just the puzzle again, you gently nudging the book towards him every now and then, his finger tracing a word before you could even spot it.

“Reindeer. Top right, diagonal,” he said for the third time, his tone just shy of smug.

You circled furiously with a huff.

It didn’t take long for your enthusiasm to bubble over, the book tipping dangerously toward your face as you leaned forward in an effort to beat him to the next word. After the second near miss, Spencer plucked it from your grasp entirely, holding it at what he claimed was the optimal distance for focus while on a moving train—Though he still let you retain your pencil holding privileges.

You leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, resting your chin in your hand as you scanned the page. Now, your shoulder didn’t just brush his in passing—it lingered, resting lightly against his as you stretched toward the book in his hands. The contact was unassuming, almost accidental, but you made no move to pull away, and neither did he. Spencer noticed—you were sure of it. How could he not? But if he minded, he didn’t say anything. You caught the faintest twitch of his lips, the smallest sign that he was aware. Maybe even liked it.

You found yourself leaning more and more, your eyelids growing heavy as the minutes passed. Spencer’s presence was warm beside you, an unspoken comfort that made it easy to drift. It felt like the simplest, most natural thing to surrender to it. You’d handed Spencer the honor of holding the pencil 2 puzzles ago as your head slowly tilted, the weight of it pulling you so temptingly toward his shoulder. A soft sigh escaped you, and before you knew it, your eyes had fluttered shut. Spencer glanced down at you, the way your breathing softened, a perfect stillness that made his chest tighten.

He didn’t know if he should move away. He knew he didn’t want to. So he stayed where he was, fingers curled loosely around the book, watching as the rhythmic back-and-forth of the train mirrored the gentle rise and fall of your chest. After another slight lurch, your head finally made contact with his shoulder. Spencer stilled, his breath catching in his throat. The way your hair brushed against his cheek while your knee pressed gently against his. How your hand lay across his on the book, a lingering trace of your last attempt to spot a word before he did.

It was all too much for Spencer—and yet, it was just right.

He dared not move. He didn’t pull back, even though your hair tickled his face. His knee remained pressed against yours, despite the rhythmic sway of the train threatening to break the contact. His hand stayed where it was resting beneath yours on the book, his fingers loosely curled around the pencil, though the book was long forgotten. He stayed, in this unexpected, perfect stillness.

Before he could stop himself, his head had tilted and found its place upon yours. It was comforting, the contact grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Spencer let his eyes close, the steady hum of the train and the warmth of your presence lulling him into a strange sense of calm.

When the train finally eased into the station, the gentle jolt stirred you awake. You felt your cheeks warm as the reality of the crowded station seeped back in, the intercom announcements and bustling crowds breaking the intimacy of the moment. Spencer’s eyes were still closed, his breathing even. With a small, almost reluctant sigh, you nudged him awake, the touch soft but insistent. He blinked, looking at you with a hint of confusion that melted into a small smile when he realized where he was.

“Hey,” you murmured, a touch of embarrassment in your voice.

“Hey,” he replied, a soft warmth in his expression.

“You dropped my word search,” you mumbled, nodding toward the book now resting forgotten on the floor between your feet.

“Hm?” He sat up straighter, looking at you with a bit of sleep still clouding his gaze. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you shifted, a little embarrassed at the way you’d curled into him, “I’m sorry I slept on you.”

Spencer’s smile was soft and reassuring. “S’fine. I didn’t mind.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, spreading heat to your face. You quickly bent down to grab your bag, fingers fumbling with the strap, hoping the movement would distract you. But before you could lift it, Spencer’s hand closed over the strap. You feel your heart thump at the gesture, the simplicity of it making you pause for a moment longer than necessary. The sight of your bag in his hand was one you could get used to. It was a sight that made you think of Sunday mornings and shared coffee mugs. Dangerous thoughts.

As you stepped off the train, you instinctively reached for your phone, its screen lighting up with an influx of notifications. Hotch’s name stood out among the messages.

“Hm. Hotch asks if we need a driver for the ride back,” you said, raising your phone to show him, “Says he’ll send a van if we want.”

Spencer’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen, the thoughtful expression on his face almost too easy to read. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice casual but with a note of curiosity.

You shrugged, the practiced ease of your movements not quite matching the fluttering in your chest. “I think we’re fine,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light, “unless you want to?”

“Yeah,” he smiled then, the corner of his lips tilting up, “Think the train was just fine.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: north by clairo saw you in a dream by the japanese house

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer x self insert #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x bau!reader

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a-mackerel-is-here · 2 months ago

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Not rlly. I'm not hungry...

I have found a NEW KNIFE !!!!!!!!

It's hello kitty themed. :3.

I'm gonna give myself more hello kitty shaped ones......

#//hc that dazai is pretty much never actually Hungry bcs it just... forgets to eat or like looks at food and everything to it is just...#not appetizing- so then it jst. doesnt eat. and its Used To That now so while hell eat if theres food xe likes infront of him- hell almost #never ask for or willingly put in work for food otherwise

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seraphicloves · 10 months ago

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𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐢 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫

⊱✿⊰ summary: riddle's mother had many rules for him one of which: focus on studies and forget about love.

⊱✿⊰ warnings: forbidden love except its jst bc riddle is silly billy, i wanted this to be romeo and juliet coded kinda but it doesn't work that well. Omg unless i make it like reader if from the rival school and riddle loves her teheheheh ahem ignore that, reader is yuu and should be gn (correct me on mistakes but be nice or i will ignore u) mild spoilers for book one!

⊱✿⊰ notes: i have no notes bc i started rambling in the warning section uh i think im high off of oxygen. might make a part two idk confessions perhizzle??

riddle lived his life on certainty. he woke up every morning, knowing exactly what he would wear and eat. he knew who would be troublesome and what classes he would be attending. he knew everything down to each very specific detail. which led him to believe in one more certainty: he was allergic to you.

he had to be! why else would his heartbeat accelerate so quickly? why else would his hands feel all prickly and warm whenever you grabbed them because your excitment bubbled out of you. why else would his stomach feel like it was being dropped to his feet whenever you smiled at anybody else other than him? it was the only logical decision.

"uh, no riddle. you're in love." trey had commented one day, after the housewarden had finished complaining about his strange encounters with you. riddle assumed trey was joking, riddle didn't fall in love! he had studies and other important things to do, he had no time for such foolish affairs.

he felt his gaze follow your movements across the dining hall, as you dished out some tuna for grim to eat. riddle grimaced, internally cursing himself for his face heating up. stupid allergic reaction.

he just about flung his lunch tray when you spotted him, bouncing merrily over. he was going to die and you were the causation. surely there was some sort of rule you were breaking for making him feel so entirely insane. it was like being overblotted again except this times it because you were sending him to an early grave.

"hi, riddle!" you giggled, plopping down in the seat beside him. how could a magicless being trapped in the wrong world be so merry and joyful? how were you so....beautiful?

riddle clenched his fist at the sudden thought he had, accidentally squeezing the juice box he had in his hand and making the liquid come squirting out. he gasped at the sudden sticky mess, his cheeks turning as bright as the roses the queen loved so much. how dreadful.

"hello, [reader]." he said, trying to stop his voice from shaking. you didn't notice anything, thank the great seven for that. although you were still looking at him strangely for the juice mess he had created.

effortlessly you grabbed some napkins, cleaning up the table before grabbing his hand to clean the liquids on him. he froze, every nerve ending in his hand getting immediately set on fire.

abruptly riddle stood up, knocking the napkins out of your head accidentally. with a curt thanks he scurried off, walking stiffly like his muscles has suddenly turned to concrete.

with steam practically radiating off his face he marched to his room, trying to prevent the allergic reaction from taking dire affect. he had to be rid of all relations with you, he must! or else surely he would die from your close proximity or your melodic laugh or your pretty face or-

see, you were even deluding his thoughts. whatever disease you have cursed upon him was nothing less than burdensome. he needed to be rid of it, of you immediately.

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that-smallinjured-bowylamb · 3 days ago

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HYPOTHETICALLY!

In the Creepy!Yuu series, what if reader got their hands on a blot stone and managed to keep it hidden from Yuu and Grim and the ghosts and it slowly starts to like, consume them until one particularly bad day triggers the blot to like, maximize and they go into the magicless version of overblot (just an idea, but like an overblot appearance but the only magic-like thing is the somewhat sentient goopy-inky blot that isn't fully formed into a blot phantom, but still deals blows) and they're not even attacking like the actual Overblots were, they're just screaming at Yuu to stay away and the blot is like actually dealing blows in self-defense, with reader trying to actually like, run off somewhere FAR away from Yuu-

Just an idea!

Love the concept, btw. I mean, I don't LOVE it bc it's pretty messed up, but I love it in the way of like the lore and the ideas and concepts and how interesting it is.

Omggg !!! Tgat is rlly interesting !!! Ur right abt that one,,, hmmmmnm

Overblotted!reader would still be conciously scared since thats their negative energy, all radiating and strangely pointing at Yuu.

Who knew that the same heroic, admirable, yet magicless student can be feared by blot itself? Wait- thats too threatening 💔, anyways, the fact that reader is still either unconciously or otherwise, scared of them is literally how much it shows their fear and life is just revolving around yuu since they, for atleast [depending on what year you guys met, most likely->] years, they've grown to fear of making connections and friends. Because whomever they befriend, so far some of them are either distancing themselves the next week or disappears, where- you know what will exactly happen if the reader tries to find someone again.

Very much likely they are a meek one, so their blot will reflect their fears of Yuu, but in this way, others will be confused because ??? Why is the blot backing away instead of fighting back? Until its just obviously pointing at Yuu since they are literally in the center.

Creepy thing is... Yuu likes this. Because its literally written in the title, if theyre creepy, they are creepy.

So, since Yuu wants to willingly deal with this blot, the boys will interrupt, obviously. Because they are in a situation where using their magic is nessecessary, Yuu cant fight them back since theyll blast Yuu off (which, they kinda did but just a bit far enough).

Ykw? Even then, either this blot started somewhere early on or if b7 is finished, jst know Malleus aint letting ts slide‼️‼️‼️

Anyway, overblot!reader would look so pitiful ngl, imagine Yuu's sadistic smile watching them hurt themselves from this comstant burning of the blot or whatever the blot people feels

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst yuu #twst au #twst!au #twisted wonderland au #creepy!yuu #victim!reader #im super sleepy help me

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literallyjonathandavis · 2 months ago

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Three cheers!!

btw that stuff around in the red is the lyrics to Helena (cut short sadly bc I didn't have room to write it all thru 💔) but the handwriting is super shitty and the camera made it look like scribbles so YEAH JST PRETEND ITS LEGIBLE 👅👅👅 but other than that I'm actually decently proud of this? That middle part is a bit bad too but I think it came out pretty good!!

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milo-nellesn1fan · 4 months ago

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It just came to me that besides amber, none of varians cousins have names so im taking it upon myself to name them and give them personalitys bc im bored asf

So yah this silly her name is now Nell short for Conelle

For personality im thinking slightly jaded art kid WHO SAID SELF PROJECTION!?

Since its a pretty big family i feel like art would be her escape from the chaos

More art soon she might be my favorite and i havents started on rhe others

Also magma doodles

OH AND TO FINISH OFF...

NURU IN GENSHIN!!!

LIKE FUCK HYV AND ALL BUT JST FELT LIKE IT!!!!!

#tangled #tts #vat7k fanart #vat7k #nuru vat7k #amber vat7k #nellevat7k

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isalisewrites · 6 months ago

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ive been reading terrible but great since 2021 ive been reading tomarry since i was like 12 reading fates favorite. i dont rly interact bc my main fandom and presence is so far apart that my little circle deeefinitely doesnt gaf abt tomarry or hp and wld in fact be scandalized . so i was really regretting that i dont have anyone to cry to about how spectacular and lifechanging that was and then i guessed i cld jst anon u since thats a thing.

ur a hero. just the exact, perfect, seriously right amount of lead up because if there was more i really wld snap under the pressure of tom being too thick because then it wld just piss me off instead i was spellbound. u provided a genuine .. i swear masterpiece u were providing like a parent oh wow ..... like how people want sweet treats every now and then i never had to go searching. its 1 am for me and ive had sadly late nights this last few weeks since winter break began and it happened the other day that it was 5 am and i had two beautiful long chapters of terrible but great waiting for me when i woke up. and when i tell u oooooooooooh god i sobbed like a fucking baby last night reading that. harrys heartbreak my god. my goodness. this kind of emotional turmoil probably doesnt exist so far at this extent in any other tomarry im following. that doesnt matter i wont need it because wow. truly incredible.

hes finally a bit. understanding of himself. he knows hes in love now. wow . i am a small puddle

oh and how i cried for voldemorts passing. u have no clue like i had snot all down my throat i was under my blanket like i was twelve again or something. seriously i cried because not only did u craft that so excellently but i was as attached to him as harry is . because i care so much for every little thing in this story because ive practically grown a bit with it . wow its 2025 now you know. 47 minutes since the clock went 12. so its been four years of your writing this piece anyway and ive been blessed. so thankyou i cant share my overwhelmed incandescent happiness with anyone else in the world at all sadly tragically its my own fault anyways for not tomarrying right. but its personal for me so i dont mind that im only sharing it with u. thankyou so so much.

and my favorite thing ever in this fic besides their bitchfight and toms revelation that harry is his own personal dr who is probably fleamont potter god bless him may he marry euphemia and harry officiates or at least flowerboys for him. praise the lord and isalise for this fleamont and euphemia.......... they bring me SOOOOO MUCH FUCKING JOY wow. im gonna go reread all the fleamont moments. and then im probably gonna reread the last chapter. and then im Prrooobably gonna get it tattoed on my chest. have a good one isalise u absolute unit

FATE’S FAVOURITE NAME DROP.

Fate’s Favourite and Past’s Player are some of my foundational Tom/Harry stories, even though they’re platonic in this series. There’s a fight in Past’s Player that was the spark of my desire for a huge duel to the death, aka The Twink Fight, for Terrible, But Great. I love the fight in Past’s Player, how Tom drugs Harry for information and the two of them have a feral fight. But my story, I wanted something immense.

After all these years, I still remember my favorite line from Fate’s Favourite.

“You have very pretty eyes… They’d look good in my collection.”

Zevi Prince was the reason I wanted Quintus Prince to exist.

you belong to me (i belong to you) sparked the idea of a more complex relationship between Harry and Death in Terrible, But Great. I adore Harry in this fic so very much.

So many others were foundational fics for me.

DMAY

Of Your Making

A Dangerous Game

No Glory

A Dangerous Game and No Glory were trigger fics, as were Fate’s Favourite and Past’s Player. What I mean by that is they were a catalyst in pushing me to write Terrible, But Great. Let me be EXCEPTIONALLY clear: they are all beautifully written and exactly what they need to be in terms of the story they’re trying to tell. They are S Tier stories and truly beloved.

But they weren’t what I was looking for exactly in a Tomarry story.

They scratched a few itches, but not all of them. (I actually have another idea for a Harry/Voldemort fic that was triggered/inspired by If Paths Diverge, but I'm not writing that idea at this time.) I needed something else. Honestly, these kinds of fics are the best because they’re always the source of creating something else. These types of fics are so vital to fandom life in all other fandoms, too.

I wanted a Harry who was equal to Tom, who challenged him. I wanted a Harry who stood up to Tom. I wanted a Harry who was still a Gryffindor, who was still self sacrificing, but also gave into his shadow side for Tom. As Harry grows a little darker, Tom grows a little lighter. (One of my favorite shounen ai manga does this. No.6) I’d read so many fics where Harry was always giving something up for Tom/Voldemort, while Tom/Voldemort never did. Harry was always sacrificing something and Tom was always taking. The inequality grew to hurt too much. I wanted to see a Tom/Voldemort so very smitten, so very much in love that he would do anything for his Harry.

I got a comment on chapter 52 complaining about TBG Harry losing his spine and conviction, that the two of them didn’t feel like equals anymore.

Chapter 53 completely shows otherwise. Tom is willing to do anything for Harry in return. Tom is willing to sacrifice one of his greatest desires, finding out his heritage in the Chamber of Secrets, for Harry. They are equals. Terrible, But Great is a story of sacrifice, but from both of them.

The emotions of Harry realizing he’d do anything for Tom, even stay at his side while he spirals downward is a scary, sobering realization to have. It’s terrifying. He’d have to watch Tom lose himself. Though he’d stay at Tom’s side, he would inevitably watch Tom spiritually die right before his very eyes.

I was crying a ton while editing chapter 52, especially when I added the sections of Tom’s dialogue from previous chapters. UGH, MY HEART. I’m so glad those emotions carried across to you. That’s truly what I wanted. I wanted heartbreak in the most perfect way, one where it was okay in the end.

Thank you so very much for sharing your love of Terrible, But Great with me. It fills my heart so much. I can’t wait to continue on with Arc Three and beyond, to have you all share in more powerful emotions with me. Those boys still have a lot to learn. And don’t worry, we’ll get to see more of Monty and Effie soon. You can look forward to a lot of growth for Harry and Tom in Arc Three and, yes, in Arc Four as well.

Isa

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #hp #fanfiction #fanfic #hp fanfic #terrible but great #anon asks #god bless anons

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cringelordofchaos · 1 year ago

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Disability + Queer headcanons for some South Park characters i like

(warning: u might not agree w everything i have to say !!! :shocked emoji:)

(also sorry if im inconsistent w some characters pronouns ill probably refer to a character with their canon pronouns in the show and then when i remember trans hcs of said characterr suddenly ill refer to the w different pronouns)

Craig Tucker

- gay (no fucking shit sherlock)

- level 1 autistic, low empathy, difficulties communicating and understanding emotions, yada yada u get the gist

- some form of anxiety? idk probs not to a disordered amount but its there.

Kenny McCormick

- Chronic pain (everywhere)

- Epilepsy

- dude LITERALLY got a seizure from simply playing a video game (in thepokemon episode) this dudes physical health is so bad prolly cuz his constant deaths still leave an impact on him even after he gets revived?

- autism !? (idk im not 100% sure just yet)

- selectively mute

- probably some form of (complex?) PTSD from the constant traumatizing deaths he endures though again like im not sure

- but yyeah ok i just remembered thispost is about disability AND queer hcs so uhm kenny. I like the genderqueer hcs but he could also just be really gnc and i love that for him too. either way likes women a lot and i cant exactly imagine him liking a dude? like idk maybe but nah i dont see it

Tweek Tweak

- im sorry but i personally dont view him as having adhd cuz his parents tell others hes hyperactive bc of it but really its because they keep drugging the fucking eight year old so idk. like idk he could possibly have it but i cant decipher cuz we dont know what tweek would be like if he wasnt drugged and a coffee addict at such a young age. and causes of symptoms matter

- but yeah he def has GAD and panic disorder bc of the drugged coffee

- oh also gay

eric cartman

- NPD (i know hes a really stereotypical and harmful portrayal of it and there should be better representation of it but theres no way he doesnt have it im sorry)

- sexuality and gender are whatever benefits him at the moment

(ok but if ur actually wondering abt my hc hes probably gay)(in extreme denial obviously though)

Butters Stotch

- has some form of disorder related to trauma and if he doesnt hell get one when he grows up because like dudes been through SOME FUCKING SHIT. (and he canonically falls asleep to and wakes up to the sounds of his own screams so like. uhm)

- seems like hes straight? like could be bi though idk. he DID have a crush on princess kenny though? take it as you will lmao

- SHIT i forgot about marjorine. yeah just like w kenny either genderqueer or gnc, love both hcs

- may i suggest aroace butters though

- or no sexuality butters (he doesnt have a sexuality :broke heart:)(dont aks me how that works it jst does)

Stan Marsh

- Major depressive disorder

- literal alcoholic at age 10 thats bound to mess him up for life one way or another

- canonically diagnosed with asperger's syndrome but it was his obvious depression being misdiagnosed

- bi but like only gay for specific chars. but yeah confused abt sexuality

- gender questioning too and its pretty canon as shown in 'the cissy'. though then again stans really empathetic so u could say stans confused feelings of gender identity were just being influenced by cartman and wendy recently telling the school theyre trans. idk WHICH way stans trans though and neither do they

- emo

kyle broflovski

- im gonna hes say asexual cuz of human kite's character chart thingy and also bc why not

- have got zero clue as to what his sexuality is like. im a style shipper (big surprise ik) so u might think i think he likes dudes but idk. ive never seen anyone hc him as aroace before but i think it could fit him. he does seem like he could just be cishet too. or maybe bi? ive also seen gay hcs of him. idk man i think multiple fit depending on how u interpret his character?

Tolkien Black

- his roleplay character chart thingy said ther character was gender neutral so im going w that hc

- likes girls (canon as shown in cartman finds love)

Bradly/Bradley (the one from the conversion therapy episode)

- gay (SHOCKER)(BIGASS SURPRISE)(

Timmy

- canon wheelchair user (whats the term again i forgor) and also intellectually disabled (but also there was one point where it was revealed he was actually a genius i think?? so maybe hes not intellectually disabled but rather he lacks the capacity to express or communicate his inner world? idk)

- timmy

thas all i got for now im too lazy to continue but yeah pls dont kill me for these

EDIT 11/JUNE/2024: forgot to say this but also kenny has more physical disabilities than listed and also Cartman is dyslexic in my hc

#sp #south park #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #eric cartman #nd #butters stotch #kyle broflovski #sp timmy #sp bradley #tokien black #tweek tweak #craig tucker

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allegraspoke · 9 months ago

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#ive been looking thru pics from this summer and damn do i have allot unfinished paintings and drawings #and some of them r pretty cool and original too but i just could not see it at the time #i felt the urge to work largely without reference which yielded cool stuff but it was also allot harder to figure out when smth was done #and when i felt that something was missing it made it harder to identify what that may be #anyways im doing smth in gouache for the first time in over a year and im gonna stick to it bc i dont wanna repeat the pattern #plus i dont wanna waste the fancy big format paper its on lol #anyways im quite confident and happy with the result when directly working frm references but artistically i just dont find it satisfying #i might work up the courage to post some unfinished stuff bc why not #also i found some rly cool thumbnails and ideas id forgotten about #music #Bandcamp #omg also i had this awkward ass moment where i was trying to walk past a guy and he like kept on getting closer to me even tho i was at the #edge of the sidewalk and kept on matching my pace even when i was nearly running #and like throwing glances at me until i finally passed him at an intersection #maybe im just overthinking but its like he wanted it to seem like i was with him or smth?#but he didnt try to talk to me #anyways ive had much worse interactions with men #its jst embarrassing to think ppl may have thought i was with that rando fuckboy looking man #and ive been celibate by choice for years now so mayb that contributes to me being esp put off and self conscious at the idea of coming #accross differently

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grotessquerie · 8 days ago

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(ignore this) Reasons for me to stay alive

trying 2 not kms gets harder day by day so ^_^ some may be triggering so be careful <3 hidden under cut because its kinda long

all the canes i could eat if i didn't die...

my friend is either gonna buy me a 12 pack of a&w zero sugar root beer OR a three finger combo from canes when he gets the money

my ex (for multiple reasons, most of which revolving around "he could love me again one day")

my friends who come to me when somethings wrong/they just wanna hang out bc they feel down

adding on to reason 4, those friends would have basically no one to talk to about their problems because You know they come to me for a reason (their other friends don't take it seriously, don't seem to care, dont listen/dont give good advice, their friends jst dont like talking abt stuff like that, et cetera yk)

i like masturbating idk

i like to look at my body sometimes like i love my boobs i love my hipbones and my ribs and my collarbone

sometimes i do think im pretty

i wanna dye my hair all the colors someday (maybe all at once or maybe not, but i WOULD like to know what its like to have blue hair and pronouns)

i wanna get a diagnosis for (or to confirm that i don't have) whatever could be wrong with me and ill have to be 18 to be diagnosed with two of the possible disorders (which im NOT)

i wanna read all the books i think look interesting

i wanna write all the stories i think would be cool

i gotta outlive my great grandpa

i wanna make new friends like me and show them that they are capable of being loved and that someone actually does care about them

i wouldn't be able to play the games i like if i died

i wouldn't be able to doomscroll

id never be able to talk about myself again

i don't wanna fail and then wake up with terrible fucking stomach cramps like i did last time

id lose my 800 almost 900 day snapstreak with my dad (YES i use snap and YES i keep my streak w my dad going like its life or death)

i wanna be able to cut myself elsewhere on my body and NOT have it limited to just one ankle

i wanna get better at rhythm games

i need to finish all the shows i started and never finished (and find new ones to watch)

i need to finish reading the manga i never finished (and find new ones to read)

i wanna make a drawing that's so good that im proud of

i need to make more bracelets and kandi and charms

i like to collect trinkets and if i died i wouldn't be able to

my baby blanket

my stuffed bunny (unnamed)

i actually love big red zero sugar :drool: so good

i still need to try all the different kinds of macaroni

i need to become fluent/conversational in other languages besides English and german

if i ever do move on from my ex, i wanna experience falling in love again and ill do it right this time

i still have so much love to give and so many tears to cry

i need to be nicole dollangangers #1 fan

i wanna listen to all the music and find new artists i like and new songs and everything

my momma :(

the little kitty thing i keep on my laptop (she js sits there, isnt connected or anything)

i wanna find more cute clothes to wear

i love jokes i love to laugh

i either wanna be able to see myself lose more weight or recover from my ed

i wanna be clean from sh someday

i wanna find new hobbies that i love

i NEED to read the entirety of The Meg series (yes this is separate from finding new books to read)

i NEED to rewatch The Meg and The Meg 2 until I've seen them both 100 times (i LOVE the meg)

the poptart flavors I've never tried

the zero sugar drinks I've never tried

the people i could meet in the future

the pets i could own in the future

giving myself a chance at recovery for everything (Ik i said it already but its alright)

i like naps

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