#contains content

[ironriots]

i want more fic where crowley and aziraphale give old man energy

i want them baffling or vaguely unsettling humans who perceive them as close-in-age

i want them chumming it up with pensioners

i want slang that both of them miss

i want crowley struggling to keep up with the trends and the technology because they cycle faster and faster every year. i want him giving "how do you do, fellow kids and reddit users" energy

i want both of them sharing comfortable little anachronisms. habits and sensibilities and tastes that have stuck with them since antiquity that they can't seem to shake out of nostalgia.

[goldensunset]

people who go through the main tags of big and tumultuous fandoms looking for new fresh good posts to reblog are essential to any circle. they’re like true hunter gatherers leaving the safety of settlement and braving the unknown wilderness to find food for the flock. they risk their lives every day and will come back with a few scratches at best and severe psychological damage at worst

[aleisters]

i had not seen the "durge/astarion is canon!" post until earlier today with that discord screenshot and honestly ... a writer being like "i managed to shove in all this extra content for astarion/dark urge, but then we simply ran out of time for the other characters" is not good, actually. that doesn't mean your ship is the most canon. it means that astarion kept getting extra attention and other companions kept getting neglected. that other companions simply do not have the amount of content astarion has is not a good thing, it is a bad thing.

and like i'm saying this as someone who really loves astarion/durge. it's unplatable to me and that larian writers are sitting in fan discords going "yeah we just didn't do that for other characters but somehow i found the time for this!" is kind of gross to me

[seumyo]

Idia never thought he’d be the type to have a muse. Inspiration wasn’t something he sought—it either struck at odd hours between gaming marathons or never came at all. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.

You were effortlessly poetic, weaving words together like they were spun from moonlight and ink. You had a way of finding beauty in things he never noticed about himself, piecing together metaphors and prose that made him sound like something out of a fairytale.

A writer who’s ultimate weapon is a pen and paper.

You write like a poet who can never run out of words.

Effortlessly so.

The first time you showed him one of your poems, he had expected it to be about something grand and abstract—love, nature, time. Instead, it was about him.

It wasn’t grandiose or overly sentimental. It was simple. Soft. A quiet sort of admiration captured in careful lines—how his hair burned like foxfire in the dark, how his voice curled around words like an autumn breeze, how the glow of his screen reflected in his yellow eyes like constellations trapped in glass.

He had read it once, then twice, then a third time, his heart hammering so hard he thought it might short-circuit his entire nervous system.

God, it’s like reading a declaration of love from years ago.

“I-I… um… wow…” he had stammered, his fingers twitching at his sleeves. “You… wrote this?”

You simply laughed.

“Of course I did. Who else would I write about?”

He didn’t know how to answer that.

So instead, he drew.

A few days after your conversation, that is.

Idia had always been good at art—sketching was second nature to him, a quiet hobby he indulged in when he needed to clear his head. But now, every idle doodle, every sketch in the margins of his notebooks, was of you.

The tilt of your head when you peered into his screen. The way your eyes softened when you looked at him. The delicate curve of your fingers as you held your pen, lost in thought.

He didn’t show you at first. It felt too raw, too personal. Like, if you saw it, you’d know just how much space you had carved into his thoughts, how easily you had settled into his world without even trying.

Maybe that was the point.

To show you how much you meant to him.

But then, one evening, as you sat together in his room—you’re lost in your writing, your boyfriend sketching absentmindedly—you caught a glimpse of his notebook and gasped.

“Is that me?”

Idia tensed, his fingers twitching as if to slam the book shut. But you had already leaned over, your gaze locked onto the pages, your eyes wide as you traced the lines of your own face on the paper.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice filled with awe.

“This is amazing.”

He hunched his shoulders, his hair flickering between shades of pink and blue. “It’s not a big deal…”

“It is to me.”

Your fingers brushed against his, and Idia felt the warmth of your touch settle deep in his chest.

“You write about me,” he muttered, his voice quiet.

“I guess… this is how I write about you.”

You smiled, nodding. “Then I guess we’re even.”

His heart pounded, his fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Y-Yeah… even…”

But you weren’t done looking. You turned the pages slowly, taking in every sketch. Some were detailed, inked carefully with soft shading that made your features stand out, while others were simple pencil sketches, quick and loose. Some had little notes scribbled in the margins—things like Her smile was really pretty today or I think she’d like this outfit—and the further you flipped, the harder it became for Idia to breathe.

“You’ve been drawing me this whole time?” you asked.

Idia swallowed hard, feeling like his soul was about to eject from his body. “I-I mean… you’re… I like drawing you.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No one’s ever drawn me before,” you admitted. “And definitely not like this. It’s like a commissioned self-portrait.”

He ducked his head against his desk. It’s all too much for him, and yet, he yearns for more.

“Well… no one’s ever written about me before either.”

You reached for your notebook and flipped to a page filled with fresh ink. “I wrote something new,” you told him. “Do you want to hear it?”

Idia hesitated, but he nodded.

You took a breath, then began reading.

Your voice was steady and soft, weaving words like magic.

You spoke of constellations hidden in the depths of golden eyes, of firelight that flickered and burned but never consumed. Of hands that danced over sketchbooks, creating entire worlds with nothing but ink and quiet devotion. Of a boy who lived in shadows and blue-tinted neon, who never realized he shone just as brightly as the screens he spent hid behind on.

By the time you finished, Idia was gripping his sketchbook so tightly his knuckles were almost turning white.

“…T-That’s—” His voice cracked, his throat dry. “That’s… about me?”

“Of course, Idia.”

His mind was racing, his chest aching with something he didn’t know how to name. He didn’t understand how you saw this side of him—a version of him that is raw—in ways he had never expected. And for once, instead of wanting to hide, he wanted to let you see more.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached for his pencil and turned to a fresh page. “C-Can I draw you again?”

Your smile grew, and you leaned into his side, your fingers resting over his. “Only if you let me write about you again.”

Idia let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding.

“Deal.”

But somehow, he knew he would never stop drawing you. Even if time catches up to him and he could no longer hold a pencil. There will always be a way for him to draw his muse.

Just as he knew you would never stop writing about him.

Two halves of the same story—lines and words, ink and paper, art and poetry intertwined.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[buggachat]

btw for anyone new/curious — this blog is generally leak free aside from relatively small things like posters and the like. mostly new designs of characters and stuff, stuff that was likely intentionally released, and never anything like leaked scripts. in case any of you were alarmed by seeing me post things tagged "leaks". im just playing it safe

[0yorixu]

what I hope happens in ruis bloomfes

[soundwavesconjunx]

🎭 His Dear Witch ~ 🎭

It's unknown why do you even exist. The SCP Foundation doesn't know what to do with you. You're a confusing paradox that they do not understand and most frustratingly—uncontainable in a conventional sense.

#TAGS: Nothing Time Twins related, SCP Fandom is slowly drawing me back, It includes SCP! Reader, The Herta! Reader, Honkai Star Rail x SCP Crossover, Potentially OOC, Reader x Canon, Witch Reader, Short Writing, The Herta! Reader x SCP Character, More stuff like this would be included if interested, SCP FANS ARISE. 🔥🔥🔥

— TW?: Possesive Themes, Be Warned, 035 Being 035 As Usual, Potential Yandere Themes, He Calls You His 'Wife'.

A/N: After hitting maxed pity on Herta's banner along with her LC, I decided to make an interesting crossover because I thought it would be interesting to see how this goes for The Herta! Reader Insert. (Huge bonus that I'm blessed with good stats while I'm building her. 🙏)

You’re the definition of an enigma. A literal spacefaring, unknown anomaly wrapped up in an elegantly appearance, self-aware, and untouchable persona. The Foundation doesn’t know what to do with you, and SCP-035? He’s utterly entranced.

And Who Exactly Are You in the SCP Foundation?

You are Anomaly [REDACTED], a Level 6: CTS entity classified under Euclid. They don’t fully understand what you are—just that you exist, that you have an unsettling level of influence, and that you are playing the longest of long games.

You don’t act out. You don’t cause destruction. You don’t try to escape. Instead, you watch. You let them wonder why you haven’t done anything drastic, knowing full well that the moment you choose to tip the scales, everything changes.

They don’t imprison you because they can’t. They simply keep you in containment because you allow them to.

And then there’s SCP-035.

SCP-035 has never met someone like you before.

He’s charming, cunning, and manipulative—but none of it works on you. Not because you’re immune to him, but because you let him think he’s in control before flipping the script entirely.

You’re his perfect counterpart. The ultimate tease, the unattainable yet tangible anomaly that keeps him guessing.

At first, he tries to toy with you, flirt with you, unnerve you. And then, he realizes.

Oh.

You’re not like the others.

You understand him. You see through every little act, every trick, every calculated play. But instead of rejecting him or trying to outmaneuver him, you do something infinitely worse.

You indulge him.

You let him speak his flowery words, you humor his charm—but it’s clear who the real player is in this game. He’s used to being in control, but you? You make it so easy for him to fall under your spell instead.

And it drives him insane.

The Foundation is uneasy. Not because you’re violent, but because they cannot predict what you’re doing.

Why do you allow SCP-035 to get so close?

Why does SCP-035, a master manipulator, seem to worship you?

What is your endgame?

They want to separate you two, but the problem? 035 actually behaves when you’re around.

If anything, he’s less volatile, less inclined to escape, more… cooperative. But only because he knows that if he behaves, he gets you.

035: (mocking, but with an underlying threat) “Oh? You want to take my darling away? My wife?” (chuckles darkly) “Now, now, let’s not be hasty. You wouldn’t want to see me upset, would you?”

The researchers watching? Having war flashbacks.

The Real Question is...Why You Haven’t Given Him a Permanent Host (Yet)?

Because you’re playing the long game.

You could give him a permanent body. A perfect, indestructible vessel crafted specifically for him. A host that would never rot, never decay, never fail him.

And he knows you can.

That’s why he adores you. That’s why he’s obsessed.

But you? You wait.

You let him yearn. Let him crave it. Let him wonder if today is the day you’ll finally grant him that final gift.

035: (grinning, tilting his host’s head at you) “Tell me, dearest… when will you finally stop teasing me?”

You: (smirking, brushing a hand over his mask, whispering) “Would you love me the same if I gave you everything at once?”

035: … (soft chuckle) “Ah. I see. You do know me too well, don’t you?”

And the Foundation? Losing their minds. Because whatever the hell this is? It’s not normal.

They don’t know if it’s love, obsession, or something far worse.

But they do know one thing:

SCP-035 is yours.

[smithebrini]

Thats it. No more kimi and ollie in prema. No more silly little bearnelli challenges. No more holding the other around the waist and use the excuse of 'im going to fall'. No more 'its ollie, and its kimi'. No more giggling manically at something the other said that wasnt even very funny. No more random hugs. No more getting hit in the face with whipped cream on birthdays. No more getting tickled by rene whenever doing something cheeky or a prank. No more 'i love you'. No more 'he is my best friend'. No more driver and engineer therapy. No more actually being taller than someone for once. No more being the tallest out of everyone. No more climbing on tires and being scared of getting hurt. No more sitting on the floor after a bad race and talking about it while being upset. No more 'mate you said you studied it!!'. No more casual air-kisses. No more 'kimi! Kiss me!'. No more 'bad race for me, but congrats to @kimiantonelli/@olliebearman!'. No more talking about what is love while blushing and giggling. No more 'his best feature is his lips..'. No more showing eachother hilarious little tiktoks and cackling over them. No more 'eh eh eh eh eh!!' In prema videos. No more casually reposting an edit of us on tiktok. No more standing as close together as possible even when there is a lot of room. No more hugging around the waist while riding on a scooter together. No more height difference kings. No more bearnelli.

[ironriots]

crowley stans who are aziraphale haters are so bizarre to me like….what part of “bonded pair do not separate” are u not understanding bruh

[commandercodycouncil]

the experience of scrolling through cody tag

[tanaka-drew]

theme - vibe: preview/code (ko-fi, free)

features: 250x250px sidebar image, 50x50px icon image, blog title, three custom links, 510x200px about image, about section**, muses section**, 450px to 540px text posts

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[nxmvzo]

Aleph deep thinking with Pickles, Vertin, Recoleta, Sonetto, & Marcus | Reverse: 1999 Official Art

This is their signature reactions at this point

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

A friend pointed out how in this post, Mobei Jun looks like he's wearing a shirt, opening up the avenue for him to have been secretly stuffing his bra this whole time. The scandal of it all needed to be exposed.

[erabu-san]

Posting my oc's story without any context oopsie we love angst First bubble empty because it would spoil it (as if I will finish this story one day bahaha)

[rugwurm]

worlds most normal kids