#holy shit this took me so long to compile

[ausrache]

Hearings of the Dead Cosmos — The Living, Beating Heart Final ( Mali Companion Quest Final Part )

"Trailblazer." The voice of Mali echoed within this blinding space of sterile white. A place of total balance. The space of Equilibrium. Only those red irises & black hair stood out as the Emanator approached you with slow steps; It was such a familiar sight within this eerie place. "This is where our paths split . . . " Sadness colored her tone of voice, yet the tiniest hint of a smile was visible upon her features.

"I am glad to have met you." A pause, the distance closing in more & more before her hand settled upon your shoulder. Warmth spread through that single touch alone, ruby gaze staring up at you as melancholy slowly settled in. "Even if our shared time was short, I felt like i've been able to . . . " Yet her voice trailed off, the vision of Mali slowly fading away within your own grasp.

A chuckle, loud & clear echoed between the two as her whole face showcased genuine happiness. "Oh . . . It does not matter, after all." The ghost of a touch lingers upon your cheek, her hand moves for but a second before she disappears fully before your eyes.

"May our paths cross again, Trailblazer."

And the blinding white faded, leaving you in total darkness once more.

[lovebugism]

Hello there! For a blurb, could I request either Steve or reader making a mixtape for the first time for the other? Also, hope your brain is able to get some good rest!

ty for your request anon! — steve's shy gf loves to spoil him 'cause he deserves to have nice things (established relationship, fluff, shy!reader, 1.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

When you first started dating, Steve learned two things about you, very quickly.

One, you’re not great at expressing your feelings. And two, you love giving him gifts.

Both are equally hard for him to stomach.

He hates when you don’t tell him how you feel — when you choose to suffer alone rather than let him in on your suffering. It doesn’t matter how many times Steve tells you that you’re not burdening him or that he’d swim oceans to appease you. You keep to yourself most times, very rarely vulnerable.

What you lack in your ability to communicate, you make up for in gifts. And not the “here’s something shiny because I’m trying to buy your love” kind of gift his parents always got him. What you give him is far more sentimental. The full-blown, hand-made, holy-shit-this-took-a-lot-of-effort sort of gift.

You paint things for him when you have the time. He’s got a dozen tiny, vibrantly colored easels decorating his desk and dresser. You make him jewelry, too, out of pretty pastel beads. Steve wears your initial, along with various hearts and stars and circles, on his wrist every day. 

You wear his, too — on your pulse when you visit him at Family Video. 

Closing shift, Saturday night, a billion other things you could be doing, and you’re spending it with him. It makes suffering the graveyard shift a lot easier on his heart.

You’re there for half an hour before you work up the courage to pull your latest present from the pocket of your jacket. “I made you something,” you tell him, finally, somehow quieter than the already quiet store.

Steve’s smiling before he knows what it is. His rosy lips curl into a crooked smile. His tired honey eyes blink up at you. “Yeah?”

He sits behind the bulky computer, slouched in his swivel chair and barely focused on the catalog he’s supposed to be mining through. You’re sitting on the counter beside him, legs hanging off the edge. His right hand lazes on the computer mouse while his left idles on your leg — long fingers curled around your calf, thumb rubbing absentmindedly along your shin.

You nod sheepishly and motion to the cassette tape in your hand.

“What’s this?” he wonders as he takes it from you.

“A mixtape,” you answer with a curt shrug. ‘Cause it’s easier than telling him, “Oh, it’s just tape I spent hours making you so I could compile every song that could maybe come close to describing how much I love you, but even that came up short.”

Steve’s still grinning when he reads what you’ve written on the front of it. 

best songs ever for the best person ever, you’ve scribbled on a sticker you decorated with pink and red hearts. The bottom reads, everything i can’t tell you.

“Babe…” he hums quietly, lovesick eyes flitting up to you. “This must’ve taken you forever…”

Again, you shrug and duck your warming face down to your lap. “It wasn’t that hard…”

Steve’s hand is still caressing your leg, squeezing softly along the back of it. He knows it took work. He knows you won’t admit to it. So he just smiles — a tiny, tight-lipped thing that makes his dimples peek out.

“Thank you,” he mutters with a honeyed fondness. “You know you never have to give me anything…”

“I like doing it… You deserve to have pretty things,” you answer sheepishly.

His grin widens. “Well, I got the prettiest thing right here, so…”

He rises from the cushioned seat to stand in front of you, back aching and legs groaning in protest. 

Your nose scrunches in disdain at his words.

“Too cheesy?” Steve squints and positions himself between your legs. His palms are wide and warm as they settle contently on your thighs.

“A little.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though he doesn’t really mean it. He just uses it as an excuse to press a kiss to your burning cheek. When he pulls back again, he’s still nose-to-nose with you — still smiling and sparkling at you. 

“I get off in, like, thirty minutes. Maybe I can drive us to Lover’s Lake, and we can listen to the tape and stargaze or whatever. You know, all the stuff people disgustingly in love do.”

“Then why would we do that?” you quip, still shy in your way.

“Very funny.”

You conceal your grin by pursing your lips to the side. “I don’t know… I wasn’t really expecting to listen to it with you.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not!” he protests, almost offended you would even say so. “What’s gonna be real embarrassing is when I sing all the songs at the top of my lungs to you.”

“Oh, god…” you groan quietly to yourself. 

Sometimes, you think social anxiety is scared of Steve. He’s not afraid to get stared at, especially not when it comes to you. It’d be way too easy for him to roll down all the windows, turn up the radio, and belt all the cheesy love ballads you’ve compiled for him.

Steve grins, pink and crooked. “Exactly, baby.”

“Just promise you won’t make fun of me,” you murmur, gaze turned down to where your anxious hands fiddle with a rogue thread hanging on the hem of his shirt. You say it in a lilt like you’re joking, but you’re still sort of serious.

“When have I ever made fun of you?”

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he echoes tenderly in return. 

Because he does. 

You’re trying to tell him that you don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want him to analyze all the lyrics and make jokes when one of them is particularly cheesy. You want to pretend like you’re just listening to the radio and not like every single song is handcrafted specifically for him and the way he makes you feel.

“I’m gonna be too busy kissing the life outta you to say anything, anyway,” Steve promises, wide hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs.

Your face flares hot again. You think if he pressed another kiss to your cheek, you’d burn him.

“Promise?” you press.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, almost sympathetically, already leaning closer to you. “You’re gonna have to pry me off of you by the end of the night.”

Before you could promise him that you’d never because you want him to kiss you forever and ever and ever, his lips are already on yours.

He kisses you soft at first — several tender little pecks to warm you up like he’s giving you ample time to pull away and tell him you’re not in the kissing mood. It only makes you go deeper. You get more languid, more confident.

Steve lets you kiss him how you want. His mouth is soft and pink and obedient for you. His hands are warm and wide and welcoming, rising from your thighs to the curve of your waist.

You barely make it to Lover’s Lake that night.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 9

First, Previous

I'm posting early this Wednesday! I've down time at work as I wait for the centrifuge to stop spinning my antibodies (48 minutes left of 2 hours). And I have plans after work. So it's either now or at 11 pm my time.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason.

Word Count: 1.2k

----------

Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”

More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.

Thank the ancients for Jazz, because he had no idea how to respond to that. She was the one who placed a hand on Jason’s arm and asked, “What’s Lazarus water?”

Meanwhile, Danny focused on sending out calm, no danger, safe feelings to counteract Jason’s projections.

It seemed to work slightly as Jason lowered his gun, but he didn’t put it away. “Just green, bubbling liquid that collects in pits and will kill the healthy but return the mortally wounded to life with a side dose of uncontrollable rage.” His eyes were glued to the duck in Danny’s hands.

That sounded like the opposite of good, Pariah curse it. “Jazz, why do your in-laws keep giving me more work to do?” Danny groaned as he mentally moved a few things around his to-do list.

He handed the duck to Robin who gave a thanks trill as he took it.

Danny continued, “And, Jason, can you tell me where these pits are so I can get rid of them? Sounds like there’s some leaks between the Infinite Realms and the moral realms that were never dealt with because Pariah was the worst.”

“Who is this ‘Pariah’ person?” asked Damian. “You have mentioned them before.”

Danny was going to reply when Alfred cleared his throat and the table went silent to look at him. “I understand there’s a lot of information everyone wants to know from our guests, however I believe it has been recognized that they wish us no harm. So perhaps we might allow them to at least taste the pie Master Jason and I worked hard on? We also have ice cream, Mr. Danny.”

Jazz took the excuse to tug on Jason’s arm. He hesitated a moment, still looking uncertainly at his ghost playing with the duck, but obediently sat down without saying anything more.

“I haven’t had ice cream in ages,” admitted Danny. “Haven’t even been on Earth for months my-time. Only been a few weeks Earth-time, though.” Taking his fork in hand, he tried a bite of the pie. It had at least four different types of fruit from what he could see—cherries, raspberries, strawberries, and peaches. It was amazing. Over the time they’d been talking, it had cooled slightly, but was still warm. “Holy shit, you two made this? It’s so good!” Without waiting for a response he took another bite. “Ancients, I miss Earth food when I’m gone so long. Jazz, can we get burgers tomorrow?”

“Of course, Danny. Has it really been that long for you? When was the last time you saw Sam and Tucker?”

Danny shrugged as he swallowed. “I’ve been out of contact with anyone for a month my-time. Grandpa had me on another planet doing time-stream stuff. But Sam and Tuck were with me in the Realms before that. We had about a week together and they saw me off.”

“I have so many questions based off that statement,” said Dick.

“I’m compiling a list, Dick,” said Tim from the other side of the table.

Alfred cleared his throat again and about half the table muttered a “sorry.”

“Now, Mr. Danny, for ice cream, I’ve made French vanilla and chocolate. Would you like to try one or both?”

“You made the ice cream? I don’t think I’ve ever had homemade ice cream before. Can I take some of both?”

“Of course. Master Jason, could you pass the ice cream to Mr. Danny?”

The wave of annoyance that radiated out of Jason told Danny exactly what he thought of that suggestion. Robin clucked his tongue in reproach. But out loud, Jason just said, “Of course.” He grabbed a covered bucket which must hold the ice cream and passed it to Jazz who gave it to Danny.

“Thanks, dead boyfriend number two!” With a grin, Danny sent back friends, gratitude, happiness to Jason. Just to be contrary.

Jason’s projections morphed into confusion, frustration.

Danny and Robin looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny to the class?” asked Jazz with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Rather than answer her directly, Danny spoke to Jason. “Hey, Jay, can I call you Jay? Well, we’re gonna be brothers-in-law so I’m gonna. You really need to work on controlling what emotions you’re projecting. Otherwise I might get hurt by how much you don’t trust me.” He pouted and played up the offense, but only held it for a second before opening the ice cream and giving himself a large scoop of each flavor. “Oh, Robin, you can eat the duck, by the way. Like a popsicle. Have dessert with us.”

“What do you mean projecting? And brothers-in-law?” demanded Jason.

Danny ignored him in favor of Robin who grinned widely and licked the head of the duck. Outwardly, he projected tasty, gratitude. To really push the point home, he popped the head of the duck in his mouth and used his now-free hands to sign something.

Dick translated, “He says it’s good.”

“Of course it is. He’s a baby ghost, needs his ecto!” Danny took a bite of ice cream.

Jazz cleared her throat and said in a conversational tone, “Danny, remember the conversation we had about spoilers?”

“Hmmm?” asked Danny around a spoonful of pie. It was so good.

“Spoilers, Danny. You’ve let some slip.”

“I have?” Danny thought back over the things he’d said recently and froze. “You and Jason aren’t engaged yet.”

Jazz closed her eyes and looked up. “No, Danny. We’re not.”

Danny flushed and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry! Honest mistake. At least I haven’t told you how—”

Jazz slammed a hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare, Daniel James! No spoilers!”

Danny grinned into her hand and licked her palm.

“Danny! Gross!” she cried as she pulled her hand away. “I know you have hand sanitizer in that bottomless pit of yours. Pass it over.”

As he was reaching into his bag, he noticed Robin had left his spot in front of Danny and moved until he was floating in front of Bruce where he seemed to be signing something. Cass stood up and took her plate, moving to sit next to Steph and Robin took her seat. The ghost smiled up at Bruce who looked back at him with a frown.

Danny sent out a pulse of concern, you okay?

Robin nodded. Happy, comfortable.

Ghosts couldn’t lie when they communicated with core-feelings, so Danny nodded and went back to searching for the hand sanitizer which he handed to Jazz.

Jason was back to staring at him, though. “Hey, Alfie? Can I ask Danny a question?”

Alfred let out a put-upon sigh. “You, and you alone”—he gave a look to everyone at the table—“may ask Mr. Danny a single question. All other questions must wait until Mr. Danny has finished his dessert and informs you he is willing to answer more of them.”

----------

Next

I just want to tell all of you how much I loved every comment demanding Danny get to eat his pie. You all really made my week.

Over the weekend, I shared a bit more of the fic where Danny and Tim were online childhood friends. Check it out if that's something you're interested in!

And I guess I didn't include line I shared as part of the tag game in this update. I'm trying to give myself more of a buffer in case I can't get as much writing done in the upcoming weeks, so the segments I share might by somewhat shorter.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

[lord-squiggletits]

I wish to love and appreciate idw optimus more too. But I also don’t want to read through the entirety of IDW 1.0. Can you please recommend me any specific issues/parts?

My best friend and fellow IDW Optimus lover made a post compiling all the comics with major story beats involving Optimus. Her list has a lot of the same things mine does, but also a lot more specific issues because she actually knows which specific issues of which series you can read specifically for ones focused on IDW Optimus. We don't agree on everything (I love some comics she dislikes and vice versa), but I would recommend her list simply because it's the most well-documented and thorough. Link I also have a lot of far less coherent but still genuine posts about IDW OP on my #idw op love tag.

As for specific parts I would recommend... since you don't want to read through all of IDW1, I'll go ahead and recommend you things based on in-universe chronological order rather than story release order, but if anything here interests you then I would recommend reading IDW1 in release order so that you get a better grasp of the story's context and how new lore was given out over time:

Chaos Theory and Police Action by James Roberts (The Transformers 2009 issues 22-23): I love love LOVE the way JRO writes Optimus talking to Megatron during the present day, it's very IDW-Optimus flavored because of how blunt, abrasive, and snappy Optimus is. There's a part in the comic where Megatron claims that he "knows [Optimus] better than anyone else," and he's right, but it's also true that Optimus knows Megatron well enough to see that he's bullshitting and it's very entertaining watching Optimus slowly lose his patience with him. I love the dialogue especially, no one (canon or fandom) has ever quite written the same IDW OP who's in this set of comics. It's also the most MegOP comic of all time because the sexual tension and the subliminal imagery of them doing BDSM together is unreal, plus it really captures their dynamic of two old soldiers who snap together with chemistry despite (or perhaps because of) being such long-time enemies. They just UNDERSTAND each other so well. Also, as a bonus point, Chaos Theory is where the pre-war lore for IDW1 began being published, so if you read Chaos Theory then the context for future pre-war lore makes a little more sense.

Shadowplay by James Roberts (More Than Meets the Eye issues 10-11): More pre-war lore that picks up where Chaos Theory/Police action left off. Important because it establishes a lot of IDW OP's character relationships, especially with "the Senator," Roller, and to a degree Ratchet and some minor side characters. I don't really know what to say about this besides it's just really fucking fun to read and features IDW OP getting to do cool shit like fight bad guys, investigate conspiracies, and do heists while also establishing one of his key character traits: being disastrously gay for suspicious men that he places entirely too much trust in to tell him what the right thing to do is.

Spotlight: Orion Pax by James Roberts: Okay, I'm really sorry for recommending JRO's stuff because it feels like favoritism and I don't even think JRO does the best version of IDW OP, it's just going in in-universe chronological order means that a lot of JRO stuff ends up first on the list. This one doesn't really have much of consequence in it and is honestly one of the weaker Spotlight issues, but like Shadowplay, it involves Orion Pax doing fun action shit and having way too much trust in a suspicious man (a new one from the suspicious man in Shadowplay).

The Autocracy Trilogy (Autocracy, Monstrosity, Primacy) by Chris Metzen: Oh my fucking god this is THE IDW Optimus to me, this trilogy is literally what made my ears perk up to even start liking IDW OP because it's what took me from "Optimus Prime, that's the guy who's the super awesome leader that everyone likes and is a paragron to everyone, yeah I know him" to "Oh.... holy shit this is such a good plot/worldbuilding, Optimus has so much CONFLICT and DRAMA with other people." It covers one of my favorite periods of the general Transformers formula, namely pre-war and early war plot events as conflicts come to a boiling point, there's political conflicts and personal conflicts, the planet is falling to shit and everyone is trying to escape and things are as depressing and scary as you would expect for a war that's literally about to consume a whole planet. I found the general plotlines to be gripping and intense (Autocracy is the weakest in this regard, but the writing gets better with each book) and I really like seeing how Optimus grapples with leadership. Especially the negative parts where people hate/fear him because of his association with Zeta's regime (the previous Prime, who Orion worked for), call his judgment into question, refuse his calls to action or waver in their faith in him, and so forth. I found it to be a really nuanced yet sympathetic view of IDW Optimus that made me fall in love with him. Because really, the thing that humanizes a character the most is making them flawed, and Autocracy trilogy Optimus is so incredibly flawed and conflicted. And also it shows him being shit on by other characters in a way that's well written in a plot that makes sense and doesn't feel like the entire plot is conspiring to shit all over him.

The Death of Optimus Prime by James Roberts and John Barber: This comic is basically the transition from phase 1 to phase 2, it establishes the branching plotlines of MTMTE and exRID, so this is another one of those comics that will help you understand IDW1 better if you want to read for more than just Optimus. Anyways, DoOP is great because it has a similar vibe to the Autocracy trilogy in that society is chaos and full of people who fucking hate Optimus' guts for the role he played in the war. You can also compare/contrast the way OP was before the war and early in the war versus the way he is after the war and see how much the war changed him (Chaos Theory also kind of is like this but it more shows bitchy Optimus specifically in his dynamic with Megatron). It also features a fair amount of Optimus Heroic Moments, Optimus Brooding, and Optimus being so fucking depressed he's literally sad when he wakes up and realizes he's not dead dude get some fucking therapy please I'm begging you--

Punishment by John Barber: This skips ahead quite a bit in the story but I think stands decently well on its own without having to understand the wider context. It's one of Barber's best-written stories and one of the only ones I've come back to reread for its own sake. It features Optimus trying to solve the murder-mystery of a bunch of Decepticons, featuring really cool plot conflicts like Optimus trying to navigate post-war society and the tensions that still linger from the Autobot-Decepticon war. I really like this one because it has that whole "not everyone loves OP and a lot of people hate him for justified reasons" thing that makes IDW OP a much more 3D character, PLUS it has some politics with the way Decepticons are treated post war. And I think it does really interesting things with Optimus in terms of showing how he DOES have this idealistic, merciful side that wants people to choose peace and letting go of vengeance, but of course it's not so easy to expect that of people after a 4 million year war. So when people inevitably choose violence, Optimus gets frustrated and angry and lashes out in a way that feels very real and understandable. It's a really good example of a comic that shows IDW OP in a nuanced way, showcasing both his virtues and flaws in a complicated situation that shows that there's no easy solution to these problems and no way for Optimus to escape without getting his hands dirty. Unlike future comics which involve OP being in complicated situations but instead the plot is super contrived and seems to overwhelmingly shit on OP without ever mentioning the very obvious ways that he could be defended, creating a story that's conceptually fascinating but incredibly mediocre in execution.

If I had to recommend any single one of these to read, I would recommend the Autocracy trilogy the most because it's literally the story that made me love IDW Optimus and made me realize "whoa, this guy is super nuanced and not what I expected of him." That's not to say that no other Optimi have depth and nuance, but I think the Autocracy trilogy was great for me personally as one of the first IDW1 comics I read. It struck a really good balance between "uh Optimus was part of some bad things that warrant being shit on" and "Optimus is struggling to overcome those bad associations he did, succeeding with some people and failing with others" and "Optimus is an optimist who has faith in others even when they don't have faith in themselves." Also, as a bonus, the Autocracy trilogy also features cunty murder-husband Megatron, an interesting character arc for Hot Rod, and the Dinobots as really interesting supporting characters (including their leader, Grimlock, having a cute veteran-rookie dynamic with Hot Rod that I wish we got more of).

[kakushino]

Tee hee! Why not both? I'll send Koku in a separate ask. Idk how to handle making threesomes. Those were never quite my cup of tea, personally. Up first is Aizetsu! Hope afab's good. "Hahhh...P-please...more..." Aizetsu whined out, voice shaky and pathetic as he looked at you with ocean blue eyes, tears brimming the edges as he panted heavily. Your pussy felt heavenly around his cock, the slow drags of your walls around him making his head fog up. It was so good, but not enough. "M-Mistress, please-" "Ah, ah, ah, my darling, you'll take what I give, remember?" You purred, earning a whine from Aizetsu, who struggled against the wisteria infused binds on his wrists that you had placed on him, leaving him bound to the headboard. "B-but it's not enough, more, p-please, I-I need it! I-I've been good, haven't I?" Aizetsu whined out, a soft smile enveloping your features as you looked at him, enjoying how pathetic he was. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked away from your intense gaze, turning his face to the side. "Y-You're so mean..." "'Zetsu..." You sighed, cupping his cheek and making him look at you again, wiping his tears. You couldn't ever deny him for long, he was too sweet. "Come here..." You cooed, leaning down and giving him a slow, passionate kiss, tongues peeking out to taste one another. A moan rolled in his chest. Bucking his hips, he made you bounce on his aching cock, a yelp of surprise leaving you as you started moving again, biting Aizetsu's lip harshly, making him whine again. You took a fistful of his hair and yanked it, making him cry out as you then sunk your teeth into his sensitive neck, cries of your title on his lips, pain blending with the pleasure he was feeling. "F-fuck...! Fuck...! M-Mistress- F-feels so good, I- O-Oh stars..." Aizetsu cried out, frantically bucking his hips into your tight cunt. You growled, glaring sharply at him as you loomed over him, slamming your hips down to meet his thrusts. He let out a shrill cry of delight at the feeling. "You had to be a brat didn't you? Well, if you're going to act like a needy slut, I'll treat you like one. You'll be screaming my name for the rest of the night, baby." Needless to say, Aizetsu got nasty looks from Sekido, a hearty pat on the back in congratulations from Karaku, and mercilessly teased by Urogi the next morning. You chose to sleep in as you underestimated how much stamina your lover had. -🍶

Afab's more than fine 👁️👁️ threesomes are difficult and orgies are a nightmare

Holy fucking shit- what an ask to wake up to-

Fuck

Thank you with blessing me with this. I need to start saving them and make a lil compilation for myself dhxbdjdjxjs

[kotoal1011]

incoherent f/o gush ahead (me screaming and crying bc of my wife)

first of all WHAT A FUCKING BANGER WAITING SO LONG WAS WORTH IT. THE EMOTION IN HER VOICE WHEN SHE SINGS AAAAAAA

okay now compilation of screenshots I took cuz it's my wife

faceless ko.toko after being too silly (committing homicide)

SHE. SHE'S FUCKING CRYING I CAN'T

I didn't get to see her cleavage but she's still hot as fuck

the way she probably pushed the girl she just saved aside. the look of disgust and distress in her eyes. ko.toko??? (not to mention the way she looks at the girl later on as if saying "don't fucking touch me")

she looks like a fucking villain I LOVE HER

seeing all of her work destroyed like that kinda breaks me ngl. she's not even sitting on the chair anymore she's just on thr ground looking down like a depressed dog

angry ko.toko compilation <3 she's going feral (quite literally)

THE LOOK ON HER FACE HOLY SHIT

I SWEAR TO GOD I CAN'T I WANNA CRY

[anbroids]

hi!!! I loved ur hometsuck kids theme sm it made me want to go back into coding after so long(^^; I wanted to know how u learned it and if u have any tips for newcomers. Ty !!

oh holy shit this is ask is SO SWEET :,) thank you so much anon and i’m so happy to hear it made you want to get back into coding! we seriously need a tumblr theme renaissance. what i would give to see people coding and sharing/reblogging themes like the older days on tumblr. life could be dream.

i learned html and css from making my own tumblr themes as a kid! i think tumblr themes are literally such a good introduction into learning front-end development. BUT to be fair i also took a few programming classes and was a big coding nerd in school and that definitely helped me become a lot more comfortable with making themes from scratch and adding custom script. if you are interested in learning javascript, learnjavascript.online is a great source for starting out and getting some practice!

i think a great way to get your bearings is to look at some base themes and poke around at the code just to familiarize yourself with some of the tumblr-specific syntax. @theme-hunter has a great database of themes to look at with some tutorials for beginners compiled here. i think the best way to learn how div blocks function and what you are capable of changing is by playing around with preexisting code and seeing what you can create. i did this until i was comfortable enough to make a few base themes of my own from scratch that i can go back and reference when starting a new theme or coding project.

tumblr also has a list of their block elements online with some introduction to custom themes, which is helpful to reference when styling the features built into each tumblr blog like title, descriptions, posts, notes, etc.

as far as tips for newcomers, here’s a few things top of mind:

google is your best friend, seriously, i can't tell you how many times i am googling the most rudimentary of things because i'm always forgetting little syntax things. chances are, if there's something you want to achieve with code there will be someone on stack overflow with some advice, or a tutorial on codepen or w3schools that you can use as reference.

troubleshoot with inspect element! i usually build my code straight into the tumblr theme html and css on a sideblog, save, and then keep a tab of that blog open that i can refresh and inspect element to look for errors in the console. i think firefox works the best, but i would recommend always loading your blog in a few different browsers since there is css syntax that is specific to mozilla or chrome (eg. custom scrollbars or pure-css animations)

there are lot of browser extensions that can make the coding process easier! i recommend eye dropper for pulling and matching hex codes. i also use fonts ninja a lot for getting accurate weights and names for custom fonts. a few more that come to mind are window resizer and css viewer (chrome/mozilla) if you want to check those out!

happy coding!

[screamingaboutaceattorney]

liveblogging the great ace attorney: the adventure of the great departure-trial part 3

hoo boy. been a while, huh? sorry about that, i don't have an excuse. however! i'm here now, for an..... admittedly stupid reason (i saw a compilation of this game's prosecutor objecting and needed to know if it was real or not)

again, sorry for the shitty quality, i can't transfer pics off of my switch for shit. i did add image ids this time though!

reactions under the cut! also i won't have screenshots for all of my thoughts cause i took like a hundred screenshots and there just isn't room

oh shit women weren't allowed in the courtroom unless they were testifying (or on trial probably)? did not know that but also i'm not a lawyer irl nor do i want to be one it kinda sounds like hell

ma'am did you steal this (also love how everyone's crowded behind the defense bench it's very cute)

also apparently susato is sixteen, which means no forced heterosexuality! yay!

something about curare, continuing the long tradition of ace attorney giving fictional elements stupid names (except atroquinine, but i am deeply deeply attached to aa4's characters and story so i might be biased)

edit: i’m an idiot and curare is a real thing. thank you for correcting me @addicted-to-12th-intro!

will you just shut the fuck up

man this poison is like a really fucked up way to die? goddamn

sorry for pics of auchi twice in a row but that's not. there are no rules about this shit

oh she's racist yuck (this might not be a new thing idk it's been over a year since i last played the game)

I'M????????????? MA'AM WHAT THE HELL

AND THEN SHE'S FINE? WHAT THE FUCK

phoenix's true ancestor istg /j

do you think about me being a lawyer often? gayass

bro WHAT

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA

GOD THAT'S SUCH A FUNNY SPRITE HOLY SHIT

alright i'm sorry i just had to share that

HOSONAGA WHY AREN'T YOU DOING ANYTHING THIS IS A SERIOUS PROBLEM

AND THEN SHE JUST FUCKING DESTROYED THE EVIDENCE???? WHAT

yeah i can't excuse that actually that was really fucking dumb of you

okay i hate to agree with auchi here i really do but the thing about ryu "just remembering" the bloodstain is pretty out there

hosonaga apparently is here to save my ass and be really. pretty weird actually

like thanks for bringing the evidence but maybe care about what your superiors think of it

also is this a regular occurrence cause if so maybe. do something about that.

cackling at the judge calling hosonaga "man" that's really fucking funny

god okay this next part took me FOREVER cause i didn't realize i could examine the evidence while presenting it and i was down to my last badge before i figured it out it was awful but! i did it!

you do not fucking have one bestie you're like. an english major i'm pretty sure don't quote me on that it's been a while

auchi says i wasn't invited, which i'm fairly certain is incorrect something tells me i was in fact invited to my own trial

in a truly shocking turn of events, the witnesses from the very beginning are back! and when i say "a truly shocking turn of events" i mean "i didn't think anyone cared enough to bring them back after like nineteen hours of the trial"

so see a chiropractor? (sorry)

the witnesses come in and are kinda funny? maybe? idk this trial has been going on for a very long time and my brain is melting out of my ears

hosonaga wants to say something! which thank god he's like the only reliable witness in the courtroom. maybe he's misinformed sometimes but goddamn it seems like he's doing his best

he was at the restaurant looking for a thief which he maybe said before? again this trial is LONG

nosa is apparently the thief of la carneval! which isn't. too surprising tbh that was going to be one of the witnesses and brett is obviously the killer while there's no reason for korekuta to steal from himself

nosa is trying to pin the blame on his infant son which. is quite a choice. a really funny choice, but still. a choice

oh he has a breakdown! it's pretty entertaining tbh i don't really have anything against it

oh fuck this is actually kinda sad

like he just wants to provide for his son and he's not paid hardly at all i feel bad for him

i do kinda wish he wasn't here cause the stuff with him and korekuta is just dragging the trial out longer than necessary but aside from that? i have nothing against this choice

also i love how his mustache is all crumpled after his breakdown and then stays that way for the rest of the trial jgkalsjglkasjg

don't make a persona 5 reference don't make a persona 5 reference don't-

brett wants to leave and like fair enough this whole trial has been going on for way too long i want to leave too but goddammit let me indict you please i'm so tired

didn't phoenix say this to apollo in turnabout trump in regards to the ace /j

brett is going to have tea with the minister of justice which like. how the FUCK do you know them you're studying chemistry or whatever just because you're british does NOT mean you know that guy i'm going insane and losing my mind

GET HER ASS

nosa says he does not have the balls to ask brett if he can hide a stolen item in her food which. fair i wouldn't either and she one million percent killed a man

also why are you shoving you baby back behind your shoulder everyone is aware of him by now

but there was time for snappy naming, apparently

brett is trying to eat her mask now, apparently. doesn't seem like a particularly healthy meal to me but go off ig maybe it's different in britain

the other steak has blood on the plate! hooray! i've won! probably hopefully please god

WHAT THE FUCK THAT SWAN IS ALIVE

goddamn that's a breakdown and a half

is that what you call it

did i call her having a place for a gun in her outfit? i'm so certain i did. it being under her skirt tracks though it's not like anyone could look without. issues.

ma'am this is not a misdemeanor you fucking murdered a man

KAZUMA WHAT

did this bitch just draw his sword in a courtroom and cut off the prosecution's topknot from across the room

AND THEN JUST FUCKING SAY THAT? SAY YOU'RE A HOMOSEXUAL AND GO, SIR

what the fuck is this mission that the judge is talking about

don't like that expression!

oh ryu's on the witness stand for the verdict, that's cute

FJLKASJGLAKSJGLASG AUCHI HASN'T FUCKING MOVED SINCE KAZUMA CUT HIS TOPKNOT THAT'S REALLY FUNNY

post trial time! apparently kazuma's sword is a family heirloom or something. idk what does it mean when someone says "this is the spirit of my family clan"

he's bringing the sword to britain? good fucking luck with that bestie

oh this man is GAY gay huh

ah. brett's not gonna face consequences for her crimes. fuck

oh susato's so nice and helpful and i appreciate her doing my paperwork for me thank you ma'am

idk, mia, belief in your client?

oh shit i was right

wait. wait fuck. wait fuck the next case is case two how bad are these parallels gonna be shit

i'm already attached too FUCK

yeah that's not gonna be a thing for another hundred years or so idk when this game takes place

oh boy kazuma wants to ask me a favor and ryu has already basically agreed so they're clearly dating (please god let me be wrong about the mia parallels)

again, i am an english student or. whatever

she was in the courtroom for five minutes sir

LMAO THE HOSONAGA DISS

and that's the end of the trial! hopefully the next case won't take nearly as long to get out, but we shall see! until next time!

[lucifers-horror-harem]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.

EEEE THANK U BEX <3 <3 <3 I'm so excited to share my faves cause gahhh I do not get the opportunity to talk about them nearly enough

Heaven's Night (Pyramid Head)

So this is one of my more recent faves just from how much love I put into it. After all the trailers for the new Silent Hill games came out, I was NEEDING to write something for Pyramid Head, and so I included some settings and monsters from Silent Hill 2 into my smut fic as well as some descriptions that emphasized how a lot of these monsters symbolize James' desires (I know those monsters are his but it was for horny purposes so I'm allowed lol) and it's just so dear to my heart. Every time I see someone like it or even reblog it I get a smile on my face.

2. Kinktober Fic: Quickie with Freddy Krueger

Okay now I KNOW this one is your fave of my Freddy fics, and honestly, it's mine too. I loved being able to have Freddy terrorize the reader both in the waking and dream worlds in a unique way (dozing off in class but continuously waking up during it), plus I added a lot of humorous moments that are just SO Freddy that it makes it one of my faves.

3. Kinktober Fic: Predator/Prey with Doom Head

This one isn't even my smuttiest of fics, especially for Kinktober, I was debating between this one and my Dr. Frankenstein Kinktober fic, and this one won me over. I just had way too much fun getting into the mind of Doom Head, he's such a strange and fun character in 31 and I don't see too many people write for him. But I had too much fun with the cat-and-mouse game I wrote in this fic.

4. Unfair Game (Poly! Lost Boys)

Holy Shit, I almost forgot I wrote this fic. It took me sooooo long, especially as it was my first time writing more than a three-way, as this fic is essentially a five-way. I was tearing my hair out over it on more than one occasion, worrying it wasn't good enough, and I think you and some other people were the cheerleading I needed to finally push this fic through. And man, am I proud of it. It was SO MUCH but it was such a fun fic to write.

5. Mine (Blissfield Butcher)

OKAY so I never thought I would want to thirst over Vince Vaughn but I do for this fucking movie, and holy shit I wrote this so fast afterward. I rewrote some of the ending too because fuckkkk he's just so horny and slutty during that final scene and for what??? Insane. INSANE. I love that stupid asshole so much but I am so proud of this fic because of how I went ABSOLUTELY off on this.

Bonus Fic but if y'all want another fic of mine that's not slasher-related I compiled all 3 of my originally posted as one-shots but are actually related fics, Dangerous Games, a Darth Vader/Wilhuff Tarkin/Reader fic. And I'm still proud of it to this day because of how many people continue to tell me I wrote porn of Vader super in character (no one talks about Tarkin but WHATEVERRRRR) so I'm just very pleased with this story and how I developed it.

[spiralemoji]

Am i off my head?

I dont know whats wrong with me lately

Jesus Christ, total psycho…

Blah blah blah blah i literally don’t care, um

Guess I’m going to work in a radiology….

I’m so depressed because i found the best stuff for my stupid store and someone tried to cock block me

I need, to get that stuff.

I’m so mad. Like, you don’t understand it’s so stupid but its the fact it was taken away from me that matters

And i need to take pictures of the brand / manufacturer angry emoji

I took an Ativan so hopefully I’ll chill out and then maybe i can somehow sneak off to the store and everything will still be there???

I remember the items… i just DONT REMEMBER THE BRAND AND ITS IMPORTANT

BECAUSE IT FIT REALLY WELL AND IT WAS NICE MATERIAL AND ITS EVERYTHING I WAS LOOKING FOR

AND THEN I’M LIKE OH WELL GUESS I’LL INVENT SOMETHING NEW

BUT LIKE, EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT AND YOU RUINED IT SO YEAH AND THAT TOOK ME LIKE FIVE HOURS

AND I WAS GOING TO HAVE SO MANY HEAD BANDS

ANYWAYS AHHHHHHHHH I JUST NEED A SOURCING AI TO GIVE ME WHAT I WANT BECAUSE I DONT WANT TO SEARCH FOR IT FOR SEVEN HOURS AGAIN PLEASE LORD JESUS HELP ME AND THEN IT COMES IN THE MAIL AND ITS NOT THE EXACT SAME AND ITS NOT THE EXACT SAME PRICE

I JUST WANT TO GO TO TJ MAX

AND THEN I WANT TO GO TO TK MAX

AND HANG OUT WITH JORD, AND BY HANG OUT I MEAN, BECOME HER,

IS THAT, SO MUCH TO FUCKING ASK

OH BUT I SHOULD INVENT SOMETHING NEW AND APPRECIATE WHO YOU ARE BLAH BLAH BLAH

I DONT GIVE A FUCK I JUST WANT TO BE PRETTY AND LIKED IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR

FUCK BUT I HAVE TO DEDICATE MY ENTIRE LIFE TO IT

MEANWHILE I CANT SPEND ANY TIME LIKE DOING ANYTHING ELSE LIKE

THERES ONLY SO MUCH ENERGY FOR ONE PERSON TO DO IN A DAY AND I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING ALL ON MY OWN

AND ITS JUST, TOO MUCH TO POSSIBLY MANAGE ‘FLAWLESSLY’ LIKE AND THEN ON TOP OF THAT YOU KNOW

YOUR MENTAL ILLNESS AND YOUR GOALS AND YOUR BLAH BLAH BLAH

THERES JUST SO MUCH STUPID SHIT TO FUCKING WORRY ABOUT AND I DON’T CARE ABOUT ANY OF IT

AND this tantrum is also because of being broken up with, i broke up with him, he still wants to be with me but i can’t tolerate it like I’m too annoyed and have to fix everything just for like 1 morsel of validation in the form of fucking me like thats not a relationship right so

Where the fuck is my super happy fulfilling relationship

And I’m just pretending to be happy and i go to church and sing songs and clap a long like yayayayay yeah love life1

Meanwhile everything is just…. Compiling like getting worse and worse everything getting worse and I’m like

And everyone else is fine

And i have to pretend to be fine

But its all just….. so frustrating

I can’t get it right like i can’t do anything right

And I’m abused and gaslighted and confused

And traumatized and fucked up

And i just want to slam my door so hard it comes off the hinges and the door frame around it breaks

I want to kill a futon

I want to punch and scratch and kick and scream into the floor and throw my shoes through glass windows

And tear everything apart my clothes, the kitchen, the glassses

I want to throw everything outside and light it ablaze in a big fucking fire i mean even the couch

And i just have to pretend to be calm and take a lot of pills that make my life suck more

So that I’m not so unstable that i scream and cry actually on the outside

And instead just have a whacked out brain on the inside

It’s like ‘oh ur mental illness is Maskable, so u should be fine’

And like that’s not how it works.

I have ocd do you know what that is even like

I have ptsd

Like

Holy fuck, if i don’t take my meds for 4 weeks, i turn into a ball rocking back and forth and sobbing

I don’t even KNOW about what

I can’t even hold my own MEMORY together and i dissociate

I can’t, keep track of myself like

I’m so disorganized, mentally my focus…

I’m a mess like, i can barely speak sometimes I’m so, tangled up in it

I’m not even crying right now I’m just stating the facts

And then I’m going to plainly eat dinner

And take a ride on the boat around winter park

And pretend like this is all i could of ever asked for

And pretend to be nice, and try not to show how depressed i am on the outside

Masking it with, overcompensatory happiness…

This time, just chill. Let’s just chill and, talk it through. And we’ll get there.

The thing is, everything is what they want me to do, and nothing is what i wanted to do

I am controlled like a sim in sims 4

It’s that bad

And i don’t know…. I’ve just been coping. But like,

I need, help like, i don’t know how to get out of the bind I’ve been in it is so long…

And then its like, okay once you get out like, what. Do you do then?

What do you give a fuck about then

Because before it was all about surviving like

How to i 180 out of survival mode and become like,

This brand new person that’s suddenly capable of so much, all my dreams and such

I had to witness them die in your hands, my dreams did

I watched my friends die

I sing about it with total rage and disgust, contempt,

Intense sorrow, tears come out sometimes.

I’m so angry all i can do is play a song, or sing a song

And people fucking clap along.

I just want peace i want to be left alone

I want everyone to shut up, you know

I want time to stand still

I want to correct my mistakes…

I want everything to be perfect as it should of been

Letting go of that childhood that could of been

Accepting the reality of what really happened

Is so very difficult

Halloween is triggering because it’s just a big reminder of childhood

And all the things that went horribly wrong, and i blamed myself for all of it.

Now my inner child wants to dance, wants to take part in all the things i missed out on

Being5, 8, 10, 12, and 15, and 21, and 25. You stole my life from me.

Trying to make me somebody else… set me free. From judgement.

Set me free. From the money.

Set me free.. my spirit inside.

Set me free from all my afflictions, addictions,

Tortured beguiled soul, rotten and discontent,

Set me free from my contempt

And mistakes, and emotions

I can’t believe another person tried me, after everything I’ve been through, demons keep showing up at my door

With smiling faces

When will there be somebody

Who i can trust

I feel like i am in the book of Eli, in the last days,

Carrying some secret book around

That no one understands

And only god is watching… as i wait for the years to pass by,

I pretend and parade another sharade

As i grow closer to, death

Being screwed over in the end

Just like alll the rest of us.

Life feels like a losing game you just can’t win

So i laid all my cards out the table, and forfeit.

People think I’m crazy, i swallowed a pair of dice, and spit them back out, in your whisky on the rocks

And told you to go fuck yourself, and wiped my mouth with your black tie

I hate you, skin dragging, sacks of shit,

Growing older, decaying, rotten in the dirt

Left to die

And what’d they leave us but a gassy decaying carcass

Fuck you and the comfortable death bed you rest on

I spit on your grave. You gave us nothing. And left me with everything to carry.

Fuck your flowers and mourning

My therapist wants me to cry about it

And get high about it,

Smoking weed and taking klonopin,

I could drink a bottle of red wine a night, it doesn’t matter to me nothing numbs the pain

I’m most often just trying to knock myself out

Your abuse and control is is loud

And im stuck, inside a tiny heart shaped box

Screaming to get out. Like cobain…

Silently loud,

All the symptoms are there.

It’s obvious, witnesses to bear.

How long do you think i can keep going like this.

[innernerdbird]

The Timeline of Our Flag Means Death: A Study

Note: this is a very long post

I never use Tumblr, but I needed to post my findings. So I’ve watch OFMD far too many times, and I decided I needed to try and understand this timeline as best I could. I wanna say rn, I know they mostly ignored research, historical dates, and I am obsessed with that, but I also love puzzles, and needed to crack this as best I could. With that out of the way, here we go.

So we know the events of Episode 1 all take course over 1 day, June 3rd (as we learn from Lucius in Episode 9). He had been traveling for some weeks prior, unsure how long, but the in-show timeline starts with this.

Episode 2 presumably takes course over 1 day. We can determine this by the lack of clothing change from Stede. They’re run aground, trial, Stede trifles Izzy, Lucius discovers Jim, leave the island (it’s an educated guess that this is all one day given that Stede doesn’t change after his shirt is torn, and that Lucius discovers Jim the same day as he first tries relaxing on vacation). We have no way of knowing how much time passed between Episode 1 to now. IMPORTANT UPDATE: This is also when we learn Jim has been on the lam for 28 days, according to their journal. So, now we have a better understanding of the amount of time they and Olu have been with Stede.

Episode 3 would be all in 1 day, closer to September (as this is when Stede gets stabbed, and there’s nothing to suggest that he was out for more than tops a few days, if that)

Ep 4 is when we get our second confirmed date: September 1st. While we’re unsure how long Stede was out between episode 3 to now, we know most of the episode takes place over 1 hour 47 minutes, September 1st. (Also, Jim says “I’ve been on the ship for weeks now” even though it’s been months at this point, which will be important later) and we know the frankfurters and the Spaniards nearly crashing into them was both the same day, hence, Sept. 1st. End of the episode - Stede and Ed have breakfast together September 2nd - guaranteed.

Guaranteed timeline: Ep 1 - Ep 4 = June 3rd to Sept. 2nd.

Ep 5: opens with Stede saying “a few days of training with Blackbeard’s crew” I’m putting this in between the near fortnight, around 3-5 days after, so approximately September 5-7. This is the entirety of the episode (Sir Godfrey party, you wear fine things well, etc). That party and the raid in the beginning (so all the events shown on screen) take place the same day.

Ep 6: Izzy says they’ve been aboard The Revenge for almost a fortnight (from August 31/Sep 1- to now). We will guesstimate the stabbing/oh my god is 13 days after ep 4, so Sep 14th. Unsure if the ghost story is the same day, Stede has the same shirt and pants on, but doesn’t have the tie, and has a new vest, so it’s unclear. I’ll assume it’s the same day. Next morning (approximately Sept. 15th) is Ed’s Fuckery. Stede says Buttons knows they’ll cross paths with a Dutch merchant ship tomorrow night. So, September 16th, Stede’s fuckery, the duel. Sept 17th, Izzy gets banished. Absolutely no clue how long it takes for Izzy to get to Spanish Jackie, but it has to be less than 3 weeks at most , given the timeline and how long they’ve been sailing away from the Republic of Pirates (Episode 3), as we don’t know how long they had anchors up vs down.

Plot line Check-In: June 3rd-September 2nd = 1-4; 5-6 is near a fortnight after, so approx. September 13th to September 17th.

Ep 7: at least a day later (different outfits), but extremely uncertain. It’s in theory been a bit longer, as Ed’s now showing inclination to leave due to how long he’s been there, which he didn’t before. They find out the Swede has scurvy and head to St. Augustine. While it’s unclear if they make it to St. Augustine that same day (we know they’re nearby, so presumably they do, but it could be a day later or so situation), we do know all of the events on St. Augustine happen in 1 day. So in theory, this could all have been Sept. 18th at the earliest, though it’s likely a bit later (which will be elaborated on later).

Episode 8 happens at the earliest September 18th, possibly later. The events of this episode guaranteed span 3 days (ending partway through the 3rd day), so at the earliest, it’s September 18th-September 20th, the 20th being the English ambush.

Episode 9: This starts the same day as episode 8, so at earliest, the 20th. This is where things get interesting. on the contract, you can see it says at the bottom of the second page “Given at our Court at Hampton-Court, London… the fifth day of September, the fourth year of our Reign.” (This was the real day King George made this decree).

And very specifically, in the flashback to George giving the decree, it says England, months ago. This could have been a misstep, however, there’s no evidence for that, so I’ll treat it as intentional. This means the decree was made 4 days after Stede and Ed met that September 1st. This now implies we are possibly in December, or even into 1718 at this point. We have no way of knowing how many months it has been. Between Ep 6 and 7, at least 2 months have passed (in order for it to be plural). This would also make Blackbeard’s comment about staying longer than he thought he would make more sense, it’s been a few months, he’s worried he’s overstayed/gotten too close, like Izzy said. Nevertheless, Ed and Stede sign the contract that same day (some months after Sept. 5th). We don’t know how long it takes them to get to the Royal Privateering Academy, or how many days they’re both at this school, but we do know once Ed shaves, the events from then to them both parting ways is the span of one day, with Ed leaving the next morning after waiting for Stede at the docks. (A side note: About the kiss scene: Ed says “the past few weeks have been the most fun I’ve had in ages”. Now, ignoring the few months conundrum of the Act of Grace, this would make sense for the estimated timeline. However, with the Act of Grace dilemma, this is where Jim’s earlier comment is important, as it establishes characters calling a known period of months as weeks, and not having it be strange. I told you it was important.) This episodes events could in theory happen in 2 days, though between travel time to the academy, then for Stede to Barbados and Ed to the revenge (by rowboat no less), this is highly unlikely.

Episode 10 is by far the most ambiguous, as we don’t know if the same amount of time passes for Stede as does for Ed. The first day shown of this episode is the same as the last of 9, so it doesn’t add to the timeline. Day 2 for Stede is his and Mary’s breakfast. It can be assumed he finds out about her and Doug this same day, though it may have been later (this episode he wears the same outfit over multiple days, which makes it infinitely harder to track). Day 3 for Stede is Mary’s showing, and the “His name is Ed” scene. Day 4, Stede fakes his death, and sets off on his rowboat. It’s unknown how long it takes him to get to Oluwande and crew (could be same day, realistically it’s longer). Now for Ed. We don’t know how long Ed was in the blanket fort stage of his depression, if it was just that second day aboard ship (his first full day back) or longer. It seems to be implied it was longer, though it is unknown. Day 2 of us seeing him is him and Lucius in the fort. We don’t know if Ed sings for the crew that same day, or on a day 3. We do know however, that the same day Izzy confronts Ed, The Kraken pushes Lucius off the deck. That next morning they throw Stede’s books overboard, and maroon the crew.

So, the conclusion: we can confirm up to September 2nd in Episode 4’s end. Is safe to assume Episode 6 ends around September 17th, given the fortnight comment. Due to the date of the Act of Grace decree (September 5th) being months ago from Episode 9, we have to assume it’s been a minimum of 2 months, so Episode 9 takes place at the earliest in November, but possibly as far in the future as 1718. This means episodes 7 and 8 took place at some point within this spanse of time, 7 taking up at least 1 day, and 8 taking at least 3. This would also make more sense for Izzy getting to the Republic of Pirates, and Jim getting from St. Augustine to the Republic and back to The Revenge within these 3 episodes (7-10). Hopefully this made any sense to follow, but yeah. This was as good of a deep dive as I could do! And of course, this could all be for naught, as research goes out the window with this show (and I love it for that).

[souper-gay]

Green Octopus

Part 2 of Face Paint

Summary: After meeting the Barton Family and Natasha, Y/N is given Nats number by Clint who saw the obvious tension between the two. Y/N takes a chance and texts her, this is what happens. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader Warning(s): Whole lotta fluff Word Count: ~5k A/N: Holy shit, I just wanted to say thank you all so much for giving part 1 so much love I really do appreciate it. I hope this didn’t take too long and that you all love it!

Back to Blog│Series Masterlist│Masterlist ═════════════════════

In Part 1

Your POV

You stare at the slip of white paper for a few minutes before shoving it into your pocket, not able to hide the dopey smile on your face. James returns a few minutes after.

“Guess what loser, I got someone’s number,” He tosses the napkin onto the table for you to examine and check its authenticity. “I win.” 

“So did I.” You set your piece of paper on the table as well.

“Wait with the redhead?”

“Her name is Natasha. And yes, her.”

“Are you gonna text her?”

“I think so, should I do it now?” The mere thought of texting her makes you dizzy causing you to question whether it would be too soon. Does she even know that Clint gave you her number?

“I say why not,” he sits down next to you after putting his trophy in his pocket. “She seemed hella interested. Just go for it.”

You shrug and pick it up to dial her number into your phone. You take a few minutes to compile a text before hitting send, letting your adrenaline fuel your confidence rather than your fear of rejection.

You wait a few minutes before feeling a vibrate in your pocket. Pulling out your phone you see her response to your text.

Natasha’s POV

“You gave them my number?” I stare down at the message still in disbelief at what Clint did.

“Who?” He tilts his head, trying to pull off his innocence but the badly disguised smirk still peeked through.

“You gave Y/N my number.” I reread the text for the fifth time, a small smile on my face noticing how formal and well thought out it was.

“What did they say?”

I hand Clint my phone displaying Y/N’s text and wait for his input as I stand beside him watching Laura and the kids play the milk bottle throwing game, Cooper and Lila wanting to win a giant teddy bear that reaches closer to my height than theirs.

I smile watching Cooper use up his three attempts with Lila rooting him on, each ball slamming hard into the wall behind the pyramid of milk bottles with a thud. After watching her son lose, Laura puts her hands on his shoulder gently rubbing them, leaning forward to give him reassurance and a quick peck on the top of his head.

His mood didn’t change much after hearing his mother's words but he still stood to the side and cheered on Lila as she stepped up. I noticed that Cooper’s throws packed a lot of punch and speed however they were not accurate. Lila’s throws, on the other hand, were precise and near-perfect aiming closer towards the bottom row of bottles however they did not knock the tower over. 

Now having to comfort both kids, Laura took her turn and with ease she knocked the weighted bottles strategically aiming for the bottom row. It took her a few throws trying to find the right amount of force but with her last ball, the clank and clutter of the dingey milk bottles hitting the cement floor ringed throughout the booth.

Cooper and Lila slam their tiny bodies into their mother completely in awe at how she won, the game seeming to be impossible in their eyes. Laura smiled innocently acting as if her glorious win was nothing special but to her kids, it must’ve meant so much. 

The precious moment brought me back to Ohio and the carnival. It was around noon when Yelena and I finally convinced our parents to let us try a game something similar to what Cooper and Lila were playing however it was with dented, aluminum cans creating the tall tower, and instead of the prize being a stuffed teddy bear, it was a stuffed horse.

We weren’t able to knock the surprisingly sturdy pyramid. I knew that many of the games were rigged but I was so sure that I was gonna be able to knock down the tower and so was Yelena, however she took her loss a little harder than I not realizing that the odds were stacked against her so she asked our mother to win her something. 

To our surprise, she elegantly stepped up to the man working the booth and paid for 3 baseballs. Unlike Laura, Melina toyed with the metal tower throwing the ball and hitting two of the top cans before effortlessly knocking the bottom corner right from underneath. With a grin, Melina picked out the horse and handed it to Yelena who beamed at the stuffed animal. 

After seeing how easy American fair games looked, an unimpressed and boastful Alexei wanted to try out a game but kept boasting about how he should show off his strength. The man standing at the booth recommended and pointed toward the direction of where we could find something called the High Striker. 

Alexei led the way and was very delighted to see that the man had not lied to him. I remember the tall metal structure poking out at about 20 feet into the air, the edges covered in bright lights flashing an array of colors. 

“Oh, this will be easy, sweetheart. Kids look at how cool your dad is!”

Walking up to the man, Alexei paid for his attempt and lifted the somewhat tiny mallet in his hands as we watched from the side. The man working the machine kept playfully toying him and teasing him, not expecting much since he had seen many fail. Looking back at us, he winked at Melina and smiled at Yelena and me before turning back to the bright red target on the floor 

Swinging the mallet over his head, I recall that it almost looked comical, like it weighed closer to a toothpick rather than a sledgehammer. Slamming it down onto the target, the metal slider leaped up the vertical rail and crashed into the bronze bell, reverberating out a loud ringing ding throughout the area. It was so loud that nearly everyone turned to see where the sound came from. 

The man, slacked jawed and wide-eyed, handed my father a blue teddy bear still in awe at what he just witnessed. The next thing I remember was Alexei handing me the teddy bear pulling me into a hug as the four of us continued our day.

Snapping back to reality, the blanket of nostalgia being pulled back, I hear both kids arguing about what color to pick so Laura chose the typical brown bear so that the two of them would be satisfied. 

“Hey, Nat could you take a picture?”

I turn to look at her and smile. “Yeah no problem,” I reach for my jean pocket to fish out my phone only to remember that Clint still has it. I turn to catch him typing. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing!” He laughs and sprints behind his family to act as a form of protection.

“Clint, hun, what are you doing?”

“Trying to help Nat out.”

“Give me my phone, Barton.”

I hear giggles from the mini Bartons as I stomp over effectively parting the makeshift protection Clint tried to use. I reach out to quickly swipe the phone out of his hands and hesitantly look at what kind of chaos he created within the device.

My eyes widen seeing the text that Clint sent. “You set me up on a date, tonight?”

“Yup.”

“A date, with who?” Laura asks, quirking an eyebrow and holding the giant teddy against her front.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N is so cool,” Lila beams, still nonstop talking about them even though it has been 30 minutes since they parted. “Do you think we can see them again, Mom?” 

“Maybe but they are probably still working though, sweetheart.”

“They said that they get off in an hour and a half actually,” Clint announces with a proud smile. “I’m such a good wingman.”

“Shit.”

“Ooh Auntie Nat said a bad word.” Cooper teases giggling.

I roll my eyes smiling. “Yes I did but it doesn’t mean you can say that though, those are adult words.” I turn to look at Clint. “Look, today is meant to be with the kids. I’m not even dressed for a date nor was I even prepared for one.”

“You still have time so we can figure it out,” Clint hooks his arm around my shoulders pulling me into his side. “I know you can’t get enough of us.” 

Your POV

Nothing can wipe the smile off your face as you reread the text Natasha sent you. You still cannot believe that she agreed to your idea of a spontaneous date and you’re kind of regretting it.

Your anxiety is causing your leg to be rapidly bouncing, your designs to become rushed, and you to check your phone every 5 minutes even though you’re well aware that none of those things won’t magically speed up time.

“Okay okay you are driving me up a wall with all this fidgeting, Y/N,” he drags one of the chairs near you and sits down. “What’s up?”

“I asked her out, she said yes and asked what time I got off work. I said in less than 2 hours and to meet me back here.” 

“So is it just nerves or-”

“I didn’t plan for a date today, James,” you sigh rubbing the beginning of your brow and feeling the tense muscle. “I don’t have a spare set of clothes other than what I’m wearing,” you display your current state with your hands for added emphasis on the drabby and paint covered shirt and jeans.

“I wasn’t expecting all of this to happen at all, and plus,” you lean forward in your chair. “She is way out of my league, dude. I mean you’ve seen her.”

“She may be but that doesn’t matter because she was into you, I mean c’mon the tension was becoming too much that even the family had to leave- fuck I had to leave for my own sanity.”

You slap the palms of your hands to your face to let out a muffled groan. Maybe you should cancel or reschedule. Why did you say that today of all days was good? You really need to think before you text.

“Y/N seriously you gotta stop stressing yourself out. If you want I can lend you the shirt that I brought.”

You snap your head up hearing his offer. “If you don’t mind, I would definitely appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Hey not a problem, gotta keep up the reputation as being a damn good wingman.”

You laugh. “I think I’m good this time, James”

“Fine fine, you’re no fun.”

“You’re just upset that I didn’t make use of your help the first time.”

“Hey, it almost worked alright.”

“Okay? I didn’t need your help when it came to Natasha.”

“Alright, touche. Go distract yourself because you will drive me insane with all of your fidgeting.”

You take his advice and begin to meander around the booth hopping between tedious tasks like cleaning up and organizing paints, swapping out water cups, and applying small touchups to the designs on your own faces in hopes of curving your anxiety.

This had been able to keep your mind busy and you’d rather put your anxiety out on frantically scrubbing horribly caked brushes than rush through someone's face painting so it was perfect seeing as it had slowed down giving you time to do some chores. 

Typically, your busiest times would be before noon since it would give people all day to show off their designs. Anything later than that and the heat of the sun could make someone sweat the drying wet paint off or just not be as visible when it gets dark.

Since it would get busy early in the day, you and James would be scheduled for the day and then another two would come in later for closing. You have met the other two, but you mainly were paired up with James and it really worked out great for you which was another reason why you liked this job.

It didn’t feel like an hour and a half passed until you saw your coworkers walk up to the booth. The four of you talked and joked about the day, James even brought up how you had a date soon and everyone got in on teasing you however they decided to be helpful, thankfully, suggesting some ideas to you on what would make a great classic carnival date.

Natasha’s POV

“Auntie Nat?” I hear Lila ask as she strides beside me, holding my middle fingers within her tiny hand

“Hm?” 

“Have you thought about what you two are going to do?” 

I most certainly didn’t do that. “Of course I did.” 

“Are you nervous?”

“She’s never nervous sweetheart, she’s pretty good at a lot of things,” Clint reassures Lila and even me included unbeknownst to the family

“That’s true, she’s even good at all of the games we played today!” 

I smile at her sweetness, a heartwarming reminder that Lila has always been my biggest fan and glued to my hip ever since I was first introduced to the kids. 

I remember that Laura had to assess me first, rightfully so, before letting me meet them. But there was something about the look that she gave me that gave herself away. She knew I wasn’t a danger to her family, I think she just wanted me to work and convince myself that. It worked, these kids make me incredibly happy and I almost cried when they first started calling me their ‘Auntie Nat’.

It made me appreciate all the little things Laura does for me and realize that she truly trusted Clint with the company he keeps. It’s why they work so well, they trust each other.

Looking back down at the littlest Barton beside me, I give her hand a soft squeeze as we pass the ring toss. 

Wait a minute.

Before the four Bartons could even blink, I fast walk over to the ring toss booth simultaneously pulling out the game card Clint bought for me. I hand it over to the woman running the booth and they hand me 5 red, plastic rings and quickly explain to me the rules of the game.

“Oh my god are you seriously going to win them something? Who knew Natasha Romanoff was a romantic,” Clint chuckles before he grunts probably receiving an elbow to the ribs from his wife.

“Babe, leave her be. It’s a cute idea.”

“Make sure you get them the green octopus, that’s their favorite!”

I chuckle hearing Lila’s reminder and how she spoke, already having full confidence that I was going to win. Focusing on the tops of the bottles, I knew that the rings would bounce and make things a bit trickier so I aimed closer to the beginning rows of bottles, keeping my hand as level to the table as possible, and flicked my wrist watching each ring spin in the air.

My smirk grew wider and wider on my face as I watched all five of the rings bounce a few times before landing perfectly on the necks of the bottles. I look at the worker as I simply point to the Giant Green Octopus hanging in the back hearing the family cheer and clap for my victory.

I smile taking the soft, stuffed animal, completely satisfied with my win and the prospect of completely surprising Y/N. I recollect hearing them say that this prize was one that they had wanted, I want to show my interest in some way and listening to someone's likes and dislikes is the bare minimum in my opinion.

“Wait, I want to win this one,” Cooper asks, thinking he could replicate the same thing I did.

“In a bit honey,” Laura reasons. “We will come back.”

The young boy nods, satisfied with the answer as the five of us thank the worker and continue our path toward the painting booth, not taking long before we see the bright yellow lemon in the distance. With the green octopus tucked under my arm and with my other hand holding Lila’s tiny one, I can’t help myself but gently rub my thumb over Lila’s fingers to help me calm myself down as we close in on the lemonade stand. 

“Hey,” Laura whispers to me. “You’re great and it will go great.” 

I smile at her compliment and her confidence in me. “I know, thank you, Laura.” 

“Yeah,” Clint interjects. “Just don’t try to run off or bore them.”

I can’t help but snort at his comment. “I won’t. I am actually excited for this weirdly enough” I slip my hand out of Lila’s tight grasp.

“Good, keep us updated.” He says but I can hear the lecturing tone in his voice even with the playful nature trying to mask it.

I step in front of the two kids and crouch down so that I match their heights and immediately wrap my arms around them to pull them into a bear hug. I feel their arms wrap around my neck prompting a soft squeeze from me before I let go and stand up, ruffling their hair with a chuckle. I begin walking in the direction of the painting booth turning over my shoulder to wave at the four before I round the corner.

I guess this is happening then, I am going on an impromptu date. I never thought that my day was going to be anything close to this. A part of me wants to convince myself that it was just because of the environment and the circumstances and how close we were sitting but, that only added to everything that was happening.

When we spent that short hour together, they showed genuine interest that nobody else, other than a few people, displayed. With Y/N I could see it all in their body language and I don’t even think they realize that their body language was an obvious tell: tilted head to show interest, close proximity, eye contact, heavy breathing, and sweaty hands because they kept having to wipe them on their jeans, hell even the flirting.

So maybe whatever this is with Y/N could be something, I’d like to find out.

Your POV

Walking out of the secluded corner of the booth, you had finished changing shirts and now you are scanning your jeans to pick at the larger bits of dried-up paint covering the fabric. You’re not sure how long spent doing this useless task but it had been a distraction from your anxiety. Once you are satisfied, you walk over to your bag to begin packing up your things.

Humming along to the music blasting that’s through the speaker system, you rock your head gently to the beat and softly sing along to the lyrics whilst putting all your paints and brushes away in your backpack, topping it off with your dirty shirt that you changed out of.

You noticed that your hands were sweaty as they stuck to the fabric of the shirt when you were packing it away. You sigh and sling the straps over your shoulders and meet up with your coworkers at the front of the booth seeing James getting ready to clock out as well.

“Hey, you ready for your date?” James asks grabbing his employee ID and the tablet to start the process of clocking out of his shift.

“I fucking hope so,” you shakily chuckle. “I hope I don’t embarrass myself in front of her or say something stupid.”

“Eh you always do that, I think she actually finds it charming.” James teases typing on the screen. It looks like he’s almost finished, fuck you want to be done with your shift and be ready to leave with Natasha as soon as possible. You’re not really sure how your anxiety can take much more waiting.

“Again I hope so, oh, and thanks again for letting me borrow your shirt. I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

“I know. But don’t stress about that right now,” He pauses clicking the confirm button and finishing clocking himself out. “She’s almost here.” He hands you the tablet and waves to you walking away to leave the fairgrounds.

“Shit.” You don’t even bother to look for the red hair or the beautiful green eyes, instead focusing on the tablet wanting to hurry up and clock out. 

You hear the faint click of boots grow louder as you rush through the process, sighing when you saw the finish button pop up and tapping it with your finger. You look up with the intention of searching for Natasha but you see her standing right in front of you on the opposite side of the table.

A “Hi” was all you could say, staring at her as the sunlight was perfectly igniting her red hair and casting her in a vibrant warm orange tone that complimented every part of her. It was something you wanted to capture but you knew better than that. You wanted to clock this into your memory. You were too selfish to share this image in front of you with anyone.

“You haven’t blinked since I got here.” Natasha teased with a knowing smirk.

You felt your face get hot, finding out she was right as the tears collected along your lower eyelids making you have to blink them away with a chuckle.

“Sorry, you just look really good.”

“I look the same, you saw me less than two hours ago Y/N.” You know what, you’d be perfectly okay embarrassing yourself if this is what you’d be gifted with. 

“And I should’ve said it then.”

She chuckles shaking her head. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, just clocked out actually so you have perfect timing,” you walk around the table and reach her side, walking away from the booth waving goodbye to your coworkers. 

You take a chance and look at her to notice she was already staring at you with a small smile. “What? Do I have paint on my face?”

“No no,” she giggles and you swear your heart soared at the sound. “I won you something.” That was when you noticed her arms behind her back. She stops walking to reveal what she was hiding behind her back. The green octopus.

“Oh my god, you actually remembered?” You stop and take the stuffed animal from her, the image of Natasha playing ring toss repeating in your brain making you smile.

“Lila actually. She dragged me to the ring toss herself.” 

You look back up at her. Although the odds of Lila commandeering the redhead’s skills were likely, you believed that she listened to your conversation with the youngest child.

“So this is from Lila?”

“From me. She just reminded me.”

You chuckle at her insistence on giving the little girl credit but let it slide. “Thank you, I wasted too much money trying to win this thing.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Okay, so I have the queen of carnival games standing next to me. Is this how we will spend this date,” You grin tucking the stuffed animal under your arm to continue walking alongside her. “Playing every game here so you can show off?”

“I was hoping that we could do more than that” You can see the amusement in her eyes at your reaction to her statement. She’s trying to trap you and you want it to work, the way she’s looking at you paired with her low raspy voice that is sending chills throughout your body is almost addicting.

“I got a couple of ideas. C’mon.”

Natasha’s POV

“We should take the sky ride since it leads directly to the food trucks,” Y/N suggests trying to quickly get dry with the help of the slowly disappearing sunlight. The two of us had decided to go on the water ride not too long ago and they, unfortunately, were still drenched.

I smile watching them sidestep and hop into patches of light that peak out over the tops of tents and booths. “Good cause I am starving.”

“I am too. I’m okay with whatever you would like, I’m surprised that I haven’t gotten sick of the food here yet since I have been working here for a few years.”

“Why did you decide to work here anyway?”

“Well sometimes the classes can cause art block and I can’t get any good ideas out there. Working with kids and their endless imaginations makes it easier to keep a creative streak and is a good refresher for me when school starts back up.”

“And the same thing with James?”

“I suppose so but he also enjoys just painting whenever he can, I notice him sketching whenever we are slow.”

We catch sight of the Sky Ride, which is essentially a ski lift, and stand in line quickly making our way to the front. The workers wave to Y/N, saying quick hellos, and lead us to the landing spot telling us when to hop onto the seat. 

I quickly change spots with Y/N so that when we get on, they would be in direct sunlight to help keep them warm and dry up faster. I did it just in time too when I suddenly felt the chair hit the back of my thighs. I hop onto the seat and watch Y/N do the same, quickly pulling down the bar to keep us strapped in.

I look out over the fairgrounds and the gleaming lights that are now starting to shine through as the sun lowers behind it closer to the horizon. Y/N’s sigh pulls my attention away from the sight as they lean back and put their hands behind their head clearly enjoying the soft warmth of the sun hitting their skin and slowly drying their still damp clothes. 

I skim over their features easily finding water coating their skin or the dark spots of their jeans become lighter as they dry. I feel a quick breeze that makes Y/N shiver slightly from the abrupt chill before settling again in their seat. I do catch a strand of their wet hair fall over their face but they don’t reach to push it back, enjoying the moment of leisure.

I reluctantly pull my eyes away to look back at the sight of the fair, the display making me wonder what Clint, Laura, and the kids are doing right now and how many more stuffed animals they’ll have when I meet up with them later.

After a few comfortable moments of silence, Y/N shifts in their seat to take in the sights of the fairgrounds now shifting into a bright beacon as the day turns to night; it seems as if the atmosphere changes as the sun sets, the muffled screams of people on the rollercoasters and the loud music from the concert hall getting louder.

“I also decided to work here because my family loved coming here when I was younger,” they smile and chuckle probably remembering those moments. “Didn’t really play many games since I wanted to go on all of the rides and eat all the greasy foods.”

I smile detecting a hint of nostalgia in their eyes, a part of me wanting to see what kind of memories they had stored. After I defected to SHIELD two years ago, I started to meet more people, like Clint and Laura, and slowly let them into my life. In those early days, it was hard to not be jealous or crave for a normal childhood after hearing people tell me about theirs. 

The normalcy is what I tend to focus on when speaking to people about their childhoods. I obviously notice the smiles, the tears, the body language, and the voice changes but I yearn for their memories because I wanted them to be mine instead of what I got. To dream about what could have been.

But this time is different. When Y/N tells me little bits, I am okay with just listening and watching rather than inputting myself into their stories. 

Instead, I notice the way they unabashedly smile when they hear their favorite song play on the speakers or when they talk about art. I notice how they give me intricate details and context to a story they're telling, allowing me to hop in seamlessly whenever I want to joke or tease them about something embarrassing they had done. 

They are considerate and observant, always pulling me closer when there is a dense congregation of people so that neither of us loses one another, always beating me to a door so they could open it for me, always remembering to ask if I was doing okay. Always offering something with a genuine look in their eyes. 

Their eyes.

Their eyes hold so much emotion, so many stories, and a whirlwind of thoughts. They always asked thoughtful questions and honestly answered my own. Whenever I spoke about myself, they listen giving their full attention to me. Their head is tilted, hands out in front of them, everything that tells me they are genuinely interested in what I have to say. 

People who had tried to talk and ask me out did none of those things. Always asking ridiculous or gross questions and not even listening to what I have to say. And when I ask something, it is always a crude answer. I was seen as a trophy or something perfect, whether it’s for their imaginations, intentions, or status. I’m not a trophy nor am I perfect, I’m neither of those things. 

But with Y/N, they cared about everything I would say or did and they showed it with all the little things they did as our date progressed.

I watch as Y/N continues to stare out before suddenly turning to look at me. Our eyes catch hold and we both smile. I now realize how close I had gotten when I saw them put their hand on the seat and felt it brush mine. They shift so they can lean against the side of the chair and face me, their other hand holding onto the bar.

“You’re the one not blinking now, Natasha,” they tease but their smile remains.

“And what makes you say that?”

“You’re staring at me.” 

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it?” I set them up for success as I have been on our date. I think they caught that a while ago but when they willingly step in, they pull back. I am making it obvious this time around.

“I might have to ask you out on another date. Just to give you more time to stare.”

“I won’t say no.”

“Good to know.”

I notice their eyes dashing down to my lips and then back up immediately blushing knowing that I caught them and their intentions. “Is your masterpiece on my face still holding up?”

I watch them lean closer as if they are examining the condition of their work, but instead their eyes don’t leave mine. They don’t even glance down at the painted spider on my face, not even distracted by the bright red hourglass in the middle of its back. 

I see their hand move up to hold my jaw still being gentle and delicate like I was something that was priceless to them. This act, this feeling of intimacy on repeat in my brain mirroring what had happened hours prior. I take a second to feel how different it was this time without all the dried up paint covering their skin, how the small bumps and bits that were strangely smooth are now gone.

“You look amazing, my work just covers it up.”

―

A/N: Let me know if you guys want a part 3 and you can send me your ideas!

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[youkaigakkou-tl]

The Renren arc post

Just a little compilation of the details in chapter 67 to 77, this almost certainly isn’t even all of them

warning: very long. a lot of images

(link) first of all, not renren arc proper, but the hoodie haruaki was wearing in volume 10 was hatanaka’s from when he was a student

like i mentioned in the timeline post, this whole arc happens over 1 day. wack

(Chapter 68) ebisu-sensei, if i recall, sir, werent you spying on your mii-kun? we still havent gotten to that plot point yet like at all

Seating Arrangement

(chapter 69, nice) a month before this chapter was released, the author tweeted the seating arrangement for the class

(made in google sheets by me, link to the tweet)

Anemone

(chapter 69) the flowers in the background here are anemones, anemone coronaria.

they mean a couple things, but the gist of it is like “love”, “truth”, “suffering”, the works

Birthday

(chapter 69) utagawa’s birthday is april 14th. this is more of a headcanon than anything, but there’s a chance its the date she died.

she specifically points out it’s april here, and although the next scene where rensuke’s mask comes off probably doesn’t happen on the same day, i’m pretty sure it doesn’t happen too long after this

it’s definitely not the day takahashi found her as a gashadokuro, since that happens 2 months after she died

(chapter 74) of course, there’s a chance its just her birthday as a human. rensuke doesn’t mention if theres any reason he’s giving her the ring, but it might be for a birthday present

by the way, and this is relevant, “utagawa kuniko” is based off utagawa kuniyoshi, a woodblock print maker and painter, who made the depiction of the gashadokuro. he died on april 14.

305

this is super nothing, but 305 is a number that comes up a lot for just being a number. its:

hatanaka and mikis dorm room when they were students

rensuke and hijitas room now (confirmed to be the same room as hata and miki)

haruakis hospital room in vol 7

renkas hospital room (not the same hospital)

im told it has something to do with onmyoudou, but i cant find anything online. its probably nothing. but im pointing it out so itll haunt you on future rereads too lol

also, hatanakas birthday is 5/5 and mikis birthday is 3/3. cute

Book

(chapter 70) this book that got knocked off the table is what prompts haruaki to call takahashi, and i spent a while trying to figure out what it is

its... probably the laid back youkai dictionary? would make sense

also, i didnt notice this before writing this, but its the gida taxi business card! cute!

Woah Holy Shit

(chapter 70) wait. he straight up took off his mask to threaten haruaki. geez seimei-kun you got to see his sexy face before all of us!! kyaa!!

Finally The Goddamn Nyuudou House Heist, This Post Is Getting Long

(chapter 71) this seems like a throwaway “wow cool operation about to start” line, but this is probably talking to yamazaki or ame

(chapter 71) on first reading, you probably either glossed over this or thought “ok anti youkai power time” directly going against his conditions with renpapa that he wasnt going to use it (which you may or may not also have glossed over on first reading)

but rereading this knowing its yamazaki changes that (not by much, since its just 2 sentences and he doesnt act on it, but yknow, fascinating)

(chapter 72) here too, when he prioritizes getting mujina out with the intel

also how kurai doesnt even gloat too much even though he caught “haruaki”

even if it wasnt immediately revealed 1 panel later, you probably would have caught on to something being up with just this

or it would be the fact that it was revealed already theres a separate team in chapter 71

(chapter 73) again, here, when sano prioritizes tamao even though “haruaki” is with them too

ah, yknow, one o’ them “call forward”s, one o’ them “back-foreshadowing”

Amaaki Content

(chapter 76) finally getting to the chapters i did. i kinda hate reading my own chapters since i stared at them so much theyre burned into my brain, i hope theyre like, done well. if i had infinite time and energy i would totally redo these first chapters i did. in fact i kinda did, i had to come back and fix some text bubble shaping and phrasing before i posted these anywhere. anyway this has been totally irrelevant.

super un-haruaki-like expression, but im a amaaki liker hehe

a comment on bilibili really opened my eyes, its that this came from ame’s own feelings about haru teaching at hyakki (crying and punching walls rn)

The sky’s clear...

(chapter 76) CRYING SOBBING PUNCHING WALLS RN ITS BECAUSE HARU MEANS CLEAR SKIES UEUEUEUE

We’re All Fools Compilation

(chapter 76) it was at this moment, that i realised: “OH RIGHT HIS FUCKING BRACELET”

anyway, heres the His Fucking Bracelet Or Lack Thereof compilation

I mentioned this in my google drive translation notes, but you can really see how the author purposely showed ame’s right hand at every opportunity

Anyway

(chapter 77) he’s riding gida here, not just for fun, but because he got jabbed with his own immobilization drug by kurai in chapter 75.

um. i hope i translated this in a way that made sense.

anyway this has been the renren arc post wahoooo!! super incomprehensible i hope i get better at this probably wont tho!! i wanna make a post like this for the seimei student arc and also kyoto arc too

[thefanficmonster]

Just Two Sad Roommates

Corpse Husband x Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: The power of medieval tavern music gets put to the test when Corpse’s roommate is having a rough day. SPOILER ALERT: it’s more powerful than anyone could assume.

Requested by Anon. You know who you are 😊😋 Wish I could tag you, I loved this idea so much and had such a fun time writing it. Hope you enjoy it just as much 🥰

The last twenty four hours haven’t been so great. 

Last night I had a huge fight with my boyfriend over his flirty messages with several girls. It was not just witty banter, it was way more and way more hurtful to me. He obviously denied it and defended himself, at least in the beginning of the argument. Then he took on the accusatory stance, pointing fingers at me for living with another guy. That had me absolutely fuming. Not only was his statement fabricated and literally made up on the spot, but he also used some seriously horrible insults for him. I was having non of it. Corpse is a really great roommate, sweet guy and overall amazing person. I haven’t once argued with him since we’ve started living together. We’re actually quite good friends. So hearing my asshole boyfriend call him all those names was more than enough to chase him out of the apartment. Thankfully, Corpse wasn’t home to hear all that. He rarely leaves the apartment but by some miracle this was the time he was absent.

Then this morning my mom called me to have a chat. It started off decently enough but it only remained that way for so long. It didn’t take her long to start criticizing each and every element of my existence. From my job, my boyfriend, my living arrangement, the career I’ve decided to pursue, the fact I moved to a different state, my paycheck that’s lower than her friend’s daughter’s...…..You get the point. 

Now I’m sitting here, contemplating what the two years I’ve been in a relationship with Marcus mean to me. I guess it is just like a phone call from my mother - starts off nice but slowly deteriorates. All things follow this pattern in my life, apparently. And just like the phone calls, I’ve considered ending things between me and him many times but never actually decided on it. Until now. The last part of this decision is executing it, which doesn’t look very promising. My thumbs are frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

I take a second to take a look at my life from a third person point of view, like an out of body experience. I am wrapped in a blanket, huddled on the couch like a burrito with a face. A really sad burrito with a face. I have a job where I work as much as three highly ranked workers and get paid a little over a secretary’s paycheck. I’m in a constant state of exhaustion and disinterest. I often forget I’m human and just assume I can live like a cactus - no food, no water. I have a boyfriend that’s cheating on me and most likely has been for quite some time now. And we’ve been dating for two fucking years. Man, that must be the longest cheat streak in history. Who knows with how many girls as well. And I still have trouble deciding weather to break up with him or not. Actually no, scratch that, I have already decided, but it feel so unnatural and so out of character that my body refuses to complete the task of delivering the final blow to the structure of this relationship which was already weak to begin with.

And it only got weaker when I started catching feelings for another guy. I know, I know, I’m a bad person for that, but I was never planning to act on those feelings. They have always just...lingered, loomed over me. They got stronger and stronger every time Marcus and I would fight, as though they were laughing at my mock of a relationship.

Speaking of laughter, I hear my roommate laughing in his recording room. I gave him the spare room for his recording equipment for a cheap add to his rent fee and it’s probably the second best decision I’ve ever made - first being picking him to be my roommate. He was among the first to reply to my online add and appeared the least sketchy over the phone. More hypnotizing if I’m honest. He could’ve told me he was a hitman and I wouldn’t have batted an eye, handing the keys to his room and the apartment without a second thought. All he had to do was keep talking. Again, SUE ME.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic!“ I drop my phone when all the strings inside me snap, releasing the sobs and tears I’ve been holding back for so long.

I bring my knees up to my chest, hiding my head in between them, desperately trying to shield myself from the plane crash that is my life at the moment. Crying makes me feel even sadder and more miserable but I have nothing left to do to get all the crap that’s piled up inside me out.

I’m on the verge of falling asleep, the tears have dried and the sobs have died somewhere in my chest, when I hear what sounds like music straight from Robin Hood’s time. 

Holy shit, I’ve lost it

I lift my head from in-between my knees, looking around the living room for the source of the jolly, lighthearted tune which despite all the heaviness of my self-loathing makes me feel like the main character in an medieval adventure. Wait...Holy crap, it’s that medieval adventure, Robin Hood-ass music I hear from Corpse’s room!

I whip around to face the entrance from to the hallway where I see an arm sticking out, holding a phone which is where the music is coming from. 

“Corpse?“ I call out to him in a questioning manner, shifting to a sitting position with my blanket kicked off of me and bunched up next to me.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or sad...or both. Didn’t want to get attacked upon entering the room.“ I see the right side of his face peek out as well.

I break out into laughter, covering my mouth with one hand, “You’re such a dork.”

He takes this as a sign to come in, pausing the music as he does so. “What’s wrong?”

My laugh stops but a smile remains on my face as I look at him. He just has that effect on me. “A lot. What’s going on with you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, plopping down on the couch, “The usual, streaming Among Us. You should play with me and my friends some time.”

I scoff, “I can pull of a lie no problem. Maybe I really should.” I don’t actually consider it, it’s just funny to think about. 

I have never watched any of Corpse’s content. Not his scary story videos, not his streams, not his animated compilations. Just his songs. And let me tell you...they are hella good. One song and I was hooked.

“Hey, I have a question.“ I tilt my head to look at him, “What’s with you and your love for medieval adventure music?“

“Medieval tavern music, and it’s not really love.“ He shakes his head with this dopey grin that is just. so. adorable. “More like a coping mechanism. Tell me, did you feel less sad I played it for you?“

I stop and think for a second. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Point made.“ He declares, leaving me to nod in amusement. “Now, tell me what that ‘a lot’ is.“

So, I do. I tell him everything, from how my boyfriend is cheating on me to how my mother thinks I’m a complete failure. He listens carefully, paying close attention to everything I’m saying. I catch myself laughing a few times while I retell the recent upsetting events.

Must be that music.

“So, you broke up?“ He asks once I end my monologue with a sigh

I shake my head disappointedly, “Not yet. I still haven’t pulled the plug. I don’t know what to say.”

He holds out his hand to me, “May I be of assistance?”

I look at his hand then at him and contemplate for only a second before deciding ‘what the hell’ and handing over my phone after unlocking it. The screen displays my boyfriend’s chat so Corpse just types away what he has in mind. Before pressing ‘send’, he hands the phone back to me. “Proofread it.”

‘Dear Marcus, this is one of your girlfriends speaking. Yes, one of them. You think I’m not onto what you’re doing, you little shit? Well, to your dismay, I am. And so, I discontinue this relation between us. That word might have been too long for your IQ so let me rephrase: We are over. Finished. Hope your other girlfriends wake up too, unless they are already in the know, of course. Love, but really hate, Y/N‘

I was never aware this level of sass even existed.

I add a smiling emoji and send the message, sighing in relief. “I can check that off my to-do list now.”

We both lean back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. A moment of comfortable silence takes over, leaving us both wandering in our own heads.

“Hey, um, I wanted to do this when I first moved in, but then I met your boyfriend and I took the hint. Now that you’re single, would you want to...“ he sounds a bit uncertain but continues regardless, “It’s ridiculous cause I don’t really like the idea of going out, but maybe we could order take-out...“

“Are you circling around asking me on an at-home date?“ I am surprised by how unbothered I manage to sound while I’m squealing on the inside. It’s fascinating how quickly a person can flip someone’s day around. Turns out it wasn’t the music at all. It was him that had the positive effect on mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch his face turn red and have to contain my laughter. The grin can’t be tamed though, especially not when he says, “Yes.”

Internally squealing, I launch myself from the couch, standing up straight in front of him. “Thai. My usual order is on the sticky note on the fridge. But first,” I offer him my hand, “I need to find out if a person can even dance to that ridiculous music.” At his amusement, my grin widens, “May I have this dance?”

He laughs that adorable laugh of his I’ve only heard through the layer of a wooden door. It’s even cuter when there’s nothing between me and its source. The source is cute too, not gonna lie.

With a shake of his head which is most likely disbelief, he takes the hand I’ve offered him, saying: “And you call me a dork.” 

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

bestie would you ever post a pic of your art over the years

Sure bestie. Here are a few old drawings that I save from my old sketchbooks while I was redecorating my house. (I'm in a different city now)

🥔 Sleepy's Art Journey 🥔

So, I've been drawing for 14 years since I basically can walk. I've always liked drawing. It gives me joy every time I do. However I can't show you my first drawings cuz of course it disappeared lol.

Cuz Tumblr only allow 10 pics I'll compile it and divide it between elementary school, junior high, high school, and college (now)

Elementary School (the thorn hair era. I'm fucking embarrassed, look at that hair HHHHH also no angle but 3/4 facing left)

Junior High (the loving Assassin's Creed era. Everybody has a hood, or has some mythical power shit. Hair is no longer thorn but body proportion's fucked up) (Also the first time I use digital art with a Wacom Intuos Comic small size)

High School (the long ass face phase. I don't know why but the faces are fucking long I'm disgusted. Also at this point I'm developing my own story, so a lot of same characters)

College (now) (The tolerable era. Finally found my own style, study anatomy seriously and I think my drawing just grow exponentially. Mostly digital art cuz in the future I want to make a webtoon too. Also no more maths, economics, and other bullshit to bother me it's just art art art. HEAVEN.)

also the era where I become obsessed with golden colors

SO YEAH THAT'S IT MY ART THROUGH THE YEARS HEHEHEHE (｡・//ε//・｡)

Im actually super embarrassed to post this holy fuck but now that I think about it, I've come a long, long way to get to this point. There was a time where I would draw during classes and my teacher would just snatch my sketchbook and I'd draw in my arm and skin using a ballpoint lmfaoo. I went home looking like a gangster.

Also I remember my junior high homeroom teacher told me I'll go nowhere with art and BOOM now I'm studying in the best art college in my country PFFTT TAKE THAT SIR.

So to anyone who's still beginning to become an artist. Do not compare yourself to others. They've come a long way to get to that point. It took me 14 years and a lot of rejection, self-doubt, jealousy, the feeling that maybe drawing isn't for me, the feeling that maybe all this is useless, and the worst feeling, the fact that I'll never be good enough.

But I smacked myself in the face and snapped out of it, and said to myself, "SHUT UP BITCH. YOU LOVE DRAWING DON'T YOU. SO KEEP DRAWING." and here I am! (ง ื▿ ื)ว

Don't forget to practice, practice, practice, and happy drawing!

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

[cherry-lipbalm]

double trouble. spencer reid.

4.8k words.

masterlist

where y/n pulls the short straw and has to double up with spencer.

There is a chart within the BAU: a solid, concise graph that portrays, arguably the most, vital information within the FBI. Intricately designed, Garcia and Y/N had managed to construct a comprehensible guide to who in the team was the most pleasant to share a room with. At first it was a joke, originated from a slow day of nothing but paperwork Y/N had spent in Garcia's lair. Conversations arose, and soon after so did the chart.

It's built up on categories such as conversation, tidiness, sleeping conditions and even hygiene. There are ten available points per category, and Emily loses said ten points for sleeping conditions because her snores can be heard from China. The points are the basis of the game, essential in order to rank the team individually and compile them into a list of favourability. Spencer is at the bottom of that list.

"I don't get it, I'm a delight," Spencer argued, strolling alongside Morgan up the small flight of stairs to the BAU room. Another case had forced them to prepare for the jet in 30 minutes, but Hotch and the rest of the team had very different perspectives on preparation. Especially after what he said when they entered the room.

"Okay, before we start you should know I called ahead to book a hotel and they had limited rooms. We all have one but you're going to have to double up."

Y/N had never seen an American Western movie before, but she imagined that the cliché standoff looked a lot like what happened in the BAU room subsequent to that announcement. Those that had been sitting launched to their feet, uncaring to the chairs rolling free behind them. If someone was holding something it dropped onto the table, or even the floor. Communication faltered, and all anyone dared to do was stare at each other.

When Hotch looked up from his file, he had to do a double take because of the drastic change in atmosphere. His team were all standing metres apart; Y/N had a hand over her gun.

"I think we all know what this calls for," she said.

"Get it," Morgan gestured to the back of the room. Y/N's movement caused a surge of motion as everyone sat at the table attentively. Hotch tried to turn the attention back to the screen with the crime scene photos, but even JJ was more focused on the whiteboard rolling into the room.

Y/N stood by it's side, and on her way forced Hotch into a seat. She grabbed the top corner and flipped it over to reveal the coloured array of pie charts, bullet-points and bar charts.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Spencer whined from the back of the room.

"I don't see why you've obviously spent more time and effort on this than any of your cases," Hotch added.

"Okay, you two are just jealous because you're at the bottom of the list," Y/N snarked, then addressed the team. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to judge your fellow coworkers and deem who is the least likeable. Spoiler alert: it's Spencer."

At this, the aforementioned agent threw his pen directly at Y/N's head. She shrieked, then turned to him with a glare as she tried to untangle it from her hair. He laughed wholeheartedly, and the team snickered not only at Spencer's attack but the way they were so obviously and obliviously in love with each other.

"This chart makes no sense! I mean, how do I only have five points for hygiene? We all know I'm the cleanest out of everyone here."

"I agree with you Spencer," Y/N said, "your hygiene is at a ten point standard but unfortunately people don’t want to compete with said ten point standard, so that loses you five points, gorgeous.”

Spencer didn't reply (only sulked into his seat), half because he's shocked by the injustice of the chart and the other half because he's shocked Y/N just called him gorgeous.

"Alright! The hat, please," She exclaimed, enticing Spencer from his trance. Garcia presented the fedora over the table, and Y/N began talking immediately when she saw Hotch's mouth open in objection because were they really using the fedora from the unsub they caught last week?

Only four people took turns in picking names out of the hat; ever since in incident in '04 where lack of coordination made for everyone picking a name of someone who had already picked someone else. It resulted in a few brawls when Morgan wouldn't budge from his choice of Garcia even though his name had been pulled by Reid.

It never took them long to pick names out of desperation, considering the name-picking determined how the next 24 + hours were going to go. So when Y/N picked out Spencer's name, no one blamed her when she practically collapsed to the floor.

"That's karma," Spencer said upon her unraveling.

"I thought you didn't believe in karma," she sneered, stomping back onto her feet.

"In situations like these it seems to be the only viable explanation."

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him on her way out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'll be briefed when she's aboard, because she needed a moment alone for a pep-talk on how murdering your colleague apparently isn't socially acceptable.

On her way out, faintly in the background, Morgan caught sight of Emily and JJ fist-bumping victoriously, and realised that Y/N's demise more than certainly involved some foul play. Oh well, he thought, it'll make for good entertainment.

———

"Science shows us that we feel more personally connected with people who have similar postures, vocal rhythms, facial expressions and even eye blinking. If you consciously sync these factors your brain activity could follow, resulting in what many people call 'clicking' wi-"

"I cannot believe you asked me why you lost seven points for conversation and then followed with that."

"What? What's wrong with science?"

"Oh, Spence, you're so gorgeous but so oblivious," Y/N sighed, exhausted from a mixture of jet lag and Spencer's enthusiastic take on the science of conversation. They had only just stepped foot in the room, and she was already drained from the mere thought of having to bunk with him for the next however many hours.

Y/N is quick to throw her things down as soon as they enter the room. She dumps her suitcase by the door and launches a few more things on the cabinets around her, then tries to ignore Spencer's sounds of distaste as she does this. She's frankly too tired to care, and jumps onto the bed without thinking; she's so enervated she doesn't even realise there's only the one bed.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer suddenly asks despite the silence that passed and the obvious fact that Y/N is trying to get some shut eye.

All he receives is an incomprehensible mumble from under the pillows, but he takes it as a response anyway.

"Why do you keep, uh, keep calling me 'gorgeous' I mean, I'm not, uh..." he stammers, fidgeting with the room key in his hands while he stands in front of the wardrobe to make it seem like he's doing something and doesn't care as much as he does.

"I'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

He senses the fatigue in her voice, so just leaves it with a shrug of his shoulders and a content smile, then goes to organising his array of sweater vests onto the hangers. When he's done with this, he turns around to make himself a coffee; taking a different approach to the jet lag than Y/N.

At the thought of her, he looks up to see her sprawled out across the bed. She's clutching onto a pillow and seems so relaxed that Spencer has to look away for a moment because he's more than certain he shouldn't be seeing a coworker like this. Nevertheless, he smiles upon her peaceful ambience, and hopes the boiling kettle doesn't disturb her too much.

When it's done brewing, Spencer sips the coffee cautiously and strides over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Here, Y/N's slumped figure is directly in his view, so he can't help but see her so casually on the bed. Wait, the bed... oh shit.

He knows that the chances of him getting the bed are slim. For one, Y/N's pretty much already claimed that territory, and, even if she hadn't, Spencer knew she'd put up one hell of a fight for it. He only hoped there were some extra blankets and pillows that could aid in making the floor at least somewhat comfortable.

"So, uh, Rock Paper Scissors for the bed?" He asks, then slurps his coffee. His voice rouses Y/N for a moment, and he's sure she's dozed back off again until his words sink in and she turns around to him with bleary eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"One bed. Two people," he says nervously and gestures to the space between them.

And it takes Y/N a moment. She looks from Spencer to the bed, then stares at the pillows for a long while, then she looks at Spencer again, then the bed. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling cry so loud that Reid has to cover his ears.

"Why!" She screams, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Spencer can't help but laugh, snickering behind his hand which only infuriates Y/N more.

"Okay, okay!" He moves to calm her down when he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, "rock paper scissors, come on."

"Oh, I don't want to do that, Spence," she whines.

"Why? 'Cause you know you'll lose?" With his patronisation he raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches the end of the bed, his fist already raised. His condescension makes Y/N irrefutably stubborn, and she knows he's doing it on purpose -because he always does- but she doesn't care when it means she has a chance to beat Spencer at something.

"Fine," she grumbles. She sweeps the hair from her face and sits up straight, shuffling to the end of the bed and letting her legs dangle down; they brush against Spencer's own and he clears his throat amid the contact.

The slap of her fist against her palm indicates the beginning of the game. Y/N knows that she's unlikely to win, because Spencer is bound to have calculated some sure-fire plan to succeed in every round of Rock Paper Scissors.

This is why, when Spencer pulls paper and she pulls scissors, she screams in delight.

"No," Spencer says bluntly, then demands, "best out of three."

"Oh no," she chuckles, "it's never been that way before, it isn't now, gorgeous."

Spencer throws his head back in a groan, kneeling on the floor in defeat. He stays there because he figures he ought to become acquainted with it.

———

When nighttime rolls around, Y/N is pretty excited. She's already texted the BAU group chat a record seventeen times about the matter, yet somehow the team hasn't gotten sick of it thus far, and may even be more exhilarated than she is. It's the one good thing to come out of sharing a room with Spencer: that she gets to watch him wiggle in discomfort on his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Except, when it comes down to it, it isn't that fun at all.

He's wriggling, yes, but it's doesn't exactly fulfil her with any satisfaction; if anything, it's just sad. He struggles to reach any form, never mind pinnacle, of relaxation, and Y/N actually feels pretty guilty at the subordination. So when the clock hits midnight and she's still hearing Spencer grunting when he hits a certain incessant bump in the carpet, she gives in and sits up.

Upon the sudden sound of bedsheets rustling, Spencer freezes because he thinks he's going to get shouted at, but it's the opposite that scares him even more.

"Do you want to get in bed?" Her voice sounds, the hush penetrating through the air.

Immediately Spencer rises; he wants nothing more than to take her up on her offer, but he is, unfortunately, chivalrous.

"No, no, it's okay," he whispers back, already delving back under his covers.

"Spencer. Just take the bed, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning," she says, hoping the complaint will cover up her caring behaviour.

"Be careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you care."

"Shut up, do you want the bed or not?"

"I do but, unlike you, I'm actually a good person and wouldn't want to see you lying on the floor-"

"Uh, I'm offering you the bed, aren't I? That's gotta earn me some brownie points," she remarked, now having turned on a lamp. "Besides, if you're that bothered about it, we'll just share."

This makes Spencer stop: his torso is turned abnormally in his angle to see Y/N behind him, the blankets feebly draping across him show the Doctor Who shirt he's wearing, and his hair is a tousled mess that Y/N just knows will take him hours to fix in the morning. Well, that was tomorrow's problem, she contemplated, right now the issue lied in who, if either of them, was going to sleep on the floor.

"Uh, share? You.. uh, you really wanna do that?"

"As long as you don't snore, or kick; whats the harm?"

Spencer avoids dumping information about the harm of them sleeping together: how this kind of physical contact releases oxytocin, a chemical compound in the brain that exhibits feelings of empathy, trust, relaxation and even reduces anxiety. He saves her this because it's just past midnight and he doubts she wants to hear about the scientific risk of them growing to like each other.

"Oh, okay," he agrees instead. He clambers up from his pile of blankets and clutches a pillow to his chest while he stumbles over. Y/N shuffles to one side and pulls the duvet back, and he's more than happy to get under warm, comfy sheets.

"Let me just make something clear," Y/N says while Spencer adjusts into the pillows. He doesn't do this for long because one is snatched from under his head. When he moves to object, he sees it being planted next to his arm, creating a definite border between them.

"Your side, my side," Y/N says sternly, "that clear?"

"Crystal."

———

It's around three am when Y/N stirs awake. At first she can't grasp what's roused her, but then she hears a noise, and assumes there's got to be some construction going on outside because what she hears is alike to the humming of machinery. When she gains a reasonable amount of consciousness, she realises the sound is a bit too close to home.

Her hand reaches out across the bed, and when she accidentally whacks Spencer on the chest, she worries she's awoken him, until the noise starts again and it's here she discovers it's coming from him.

Oh shit, she thinks, please don't tell me my co-worker is having a sex dream while I'm lying right next to him.

He isn't, but Y/N isn't sure the reality is any better.

The moaning sound he first emitted has progressed into some sort of panicked grunt, accompanied by occasional whines. Soon, his body is flinching away from an invisible force.

Y/N knows it's probably best to leave it, that if she wakes him up he might be too confused and scared, he'll be disoriented, but when he starts screaming, she doesn't have anything else to resort to.

"Spence, Spencer! Wake up, hey," she shakes him, and he's awake in seconds. Sitting up straight, Y/N sees him hitting things that aren't there; it's only when she turns the light on that he eventually calms down.

"I'm sorry," he croaks immediately. Then his head is in his hands as he leans on his knees, and Y/N is overcome with a feeling completely foreign to her in regard to Spencer: empathy.

"Don't be, it-... it's okay," her voice takes a calm turn, and she even puts a hand on his back because anything that happens after three am is as good as forgotten anyway.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Spencer mutters. "This'll lose me ten points for sleeping conditions, huh?"

His attempt at cracking a joke does make Y/N smile, but even he can tell it's one of pity.

"Don't be silly. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

"I just wanna sleep," he sighs, and falls back into the pillows. Y/N creases her brows in sympathy, then lies down next to him; she stares at the ceiling for a while, and the steadying of Spencer's breathing makes her think he fell asleep a while ago, so she leans to turn off the lamp before his voice breaks the silence.

"Can you keep the light on?"

His sudden ask makes Y/N jump, but she steadies under the softness of Spencer's voice. When she turns to him his eyes are barely open, but he can see the benevolent smile she's giving him; something he rarely sees from Y/N.

"Of course," she says, then lies back down into the indent she's made in the bed.

"Thanks," he replies, and Y/N notices this is the least she's ever heard Spencer talk.

"You know," she starts, "it's not silly to be afraid of the dark; it's basic human instinct. I mean, it's evolution: humans have a... a tendency to be afraid of the dark, our visual sense vanishes and we can't detect anything around us. It's primal instinct, or... something, I guess."

At the end of her ramble, she's afraid she's sent Spencer to sleep, because he's gone uncharacteristically placid, but -yet again- he surprises her.

"Now who's losing points for conversation?"

Y/N's laugh after this is so hearty and genuine that Spencer can't help but smile, grin even. His chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Y/N feels the mattress shake under their collaboration of laughter, when it dies down they're both still beaming.

"Maybe I've been hanging around you too much," she declares. It's a jab, but her cheek rests against the pillow when she turns her head to him because her smile is so wide, and Spencer reciprocates; the act is unfamiliar to the pair, but warming nonetheless.

When it goes silent, Y/N doesn't expect to sleep at all. The Pavlov affect of the light being on tricks her brain into thinking she should be wide awake (something she learnt from Spencer), so she lies there patiently; hands intertwined resting on her chest. She twiddles her thumbs, almost as if she's waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry you have nightmares," she mutters.

Spencer's eyes flutter open, and she goes to make another apology, this time for waking him, but he clears his throat so she lets him take the lead.

"S'Not your fault, I just, I don't know. I get these dreams, these weird dreams - ever since I was a kid. I guess they just... developed into nightmares since I joined the BAU," he mumbles. "We see some pretty bad stuff."

Y/N hums, "we do, don't we?"

Her speech doesn't warrant a response, so Spencer just smiles again and they both silently call it a night. Reid is asleep in seconds, which Y/N finds admirable, while she stays still for a while. The way the orange light is bouncing off Spencer's physique makes him look like he's centre stage of an oil painting. The detail she's gaining of his pores and his eyelashes from being so close to him is both daunting and beautiful at the same time. His resting body reminds her of the pieces on display in an art exhibit Spencer dragged her along to one day last autumn. She wonders if he took anyone else to that exhibit, and hopes he didn't.

She soundlessly admires the rise of his chest: the melody of his breathing amid the chagrin of an occasional nose whistle. His hair, once a foreseeable inconvenience, is now an abundance of, what Y/N can only describe as, natural radiance; it's all curls and frizz and length that she's begged him to never lay a hand on. She can't help but run a hand through it. When she does, it's a lot softer than she expected and makes her think, wow I've really got to find out what conditioner he is using while she's untangling any knots she comes across. It only results in more frizz but he'll gel it back with product in the morning (much to Y/N's disappointment).

The noise he exudes when Y/N scratches his scalp makes her heart melt immediately. It is the sound of innocence wrapped up in a ball of revere, the way it comes from his chest and catches in the back of his throat in a small, naive whine. Then he subconsciously curls into her hold and is practically purring when she continues to scrape her fingernails gently across his head.

The ambivalence of it all is what makes Y/N stop. Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy she ever anticipated to have a crush on. He didn't fit into the pattern of her list of exes, not even one feature of him came close to anything of her usual type. Where she'd normally be taken to movies and dinners, Spencer ventured with her to museums, public symposiums, art exhibits. Y/N can't resist fondly reminiscing on a library trip they took last week that resulted in them checking out each of their favourite books for one another. And while, on paper, this was romantic and harmonious, they were strictly platonic. Barely that; they took the piss out of each other at every opportunity, not even always as a joke. Y/N had collapsed in sorrow when she pulled his name out of the hat.

But the smile on Spencer's face... his serene expression and soft hair makes Y/N's knees weak for a totally different reason. And she figures this feeling trumps whatever feigned resentment she has been portraying over the years.

Fine, she thought, stubborn as always when it came to Spencer, I'll tell him when he wakes up. She began to bask in the peace that came before whatever storm could potentially riot tomorrow when she told Spencer how she felt. She guessed she had at least a few hours to relish in their friendship and the love they had built.

She guessed wrong.

Spencer's eyes were fluttering open before Y/N had even began conjuring up what she was going to say. Unfortunately, when she made a plan she stuck to it; she was beginning to see why her stubbornness could be such an unattractive quality.

Spencer squinted harshly with the light, and the first thing he managed to see clearly was the discreet panic in Y/N's eyes. He took a quick survey of the room to eliminate what visible factors that could reason her alarm; when he ruled out any unsub with a gun to her head, he relaxed.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the window, and it didn't seem to be daylight yet.

"Haven't you been to sleep?" He asked, more than prepared to educate her in the necessities of getting a good night's rest.

"Not yet. You've only been out a few minutes," she said softly, retracting her hand from his locks. Here, Spencer realised he didn't like the feeling of Y/N's absence.

"Oh," he hummed, "I was dreaming. I think Darth Vader was there..."

Y/N chuckled lightheartedly, "of course he was."

Spencer seemed willing to remain awake, but time was limited and Y/N wasn't sure when he'd be dozing off again. So, she made her move.

"Listen, I wasn't going to say anything until morning but, you're awake so I may as well tell you now..."

He's visibly intrigued; with a quirked eyebrow and digging the knuckle-joint of his finger in a rubbing motion in the corner of his eye to try and gain some sense of vivacity. Still, all he can respond with is a drone.

"And I don't want this to, I don't know, freak you out? Or to make anything awkward, so if it does, we can just... pretend this never happened, okay? I mean it."

This manages to obtain Y/N the attention she needs, because, without delay, Spencer has both eyes open and his eyebrows are knitted together in mostly concern. Now, with his eager expression, Y/N wishes he had stayed nonchalant.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I guess. I mean, I like you? I think? I know, really. I just - you're not like any other guy, and I like that, that's a good thing! I mean, what other guy knows how to build a rocket and make a coin appear behind your ear?"

Spencer chuckles, and his eyes are wide and bright like he's been suddenly granted passage to a whole new world. Mouth agape with wonder, he's like a child being told he can finally play on the big-kid swings: buzzing with excitement and anticipation, just like said rockets he launches and gets in trouble with Hotch for.

"You mean like this?" He asks and leans forward to brandish a dime from behind Y/N's earlobe.

"Okay, like, who does that!" She screeches way too loudly for three am. When she clasps a hand over her mouth Spencer chortles and slowly removes her grasp. He's timid, so initially only presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, then feels the ambience in the room shift; suddenly everything has devolved from blushing antics and stumbles of words to serenity in a matter of seconds.  

Spencer's pecks adhere to Y/N's hands, lingering on the skin of her knuckles and occasionally peppering to her palms. It isn't until a few kisses later that he brings himself to move closer, and even here his courage only brings him to her cheek.

When the corner of his lips press lustfully upon her face, Y/N doesn't hesitate in turning her head ever so slightly. His lips part, and he breaks away to glance at her and make sure this isn't all one big misunderstanding. But her gaze is matched to his mouth, and soon her lips. In a fumble to close the (already compact) space between them, the kiss they share is warm and breathy, it's passionate and lewd, especially with the arrangement in which Spencer places his hands: cupping one side of her face and the placing the other at her neck so he can rest his fingertips in the hold atop Y/N's spine.

Wherever his fingers touch leaves a trail of goosebumps which Y/N hopes never diminish; she wants every piece of evidence she can muster of Spencer's caresses, however this changes when Spencer's lips begin on the formidable task of her neck.

"Stop," she pants, and the hands that had inevitably reached his hair again are now pushing slightly on his shoulders. Her request makes Spencer drop his hands immediately.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. It was nice. I just, I don't want everyone to see," she gestured to the red patch that had already formed above her clavicle where Spencer had only been nibbling a moment prior.

"Right, yeah," he breathed. A giddy smile forced its way onto his face when he looked at the way Y/N's lips had reddened and become swollen, especially her bottom (now essentially permanent) pout originated from the persistence of Spencer's tendency to drag his teeth along her lip and enclose it in a bite.

"You know, I predicted this would happen. Scientifically, people are a lot more likely to be attracted to one another after sleeping together. Subconsciously, we feel more capable in our ability to trust that person because we've been so vulnerable and open in a compromising position. The oxytocin we get from sharing physical contact like that is the same we produce in an orgasm."

"Oh," Y/N squeaked, while Spencer lay there with a proud smile on his face, not really registering the effect he'd had on her by using the word 'orgasm'.

"Oxytocin is heavily released during kissing too, so... I guess we're pretty bonded."

Y/N chuckled, smiling at his blushed cheeks. "I guess we are."

"It's, uh, it's actually also called the 'cuddle hormone' because it's primarily recognised as being released during hugging.”

"And that's your way of asking me if I want to cuddle?"

Spencer's smile was unmissable: shifting nervously between tight-lipped and beaming wide, his eyes were the only part of his countenance that stilled; locked on Y/N.

"Yes, I, uh, I believe it is."

She tried to suppress her grin, but it was no use.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked.

"Oh, little spoon... obviously."

fin.