#if you recognize this drawing from tiktok a few years ago

[hivemindclown]

not so pure vanilla

still can't draw, saving up for a new tablet but till then have an OLD ass drawing i did of that one famous evil vanilla design.

[mrcleanheichou]

Wolves are (NOT) Scary Chapter 12

Pairing: Werewolf!BTS X Female human reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Starbucks slander and excessive question mark use

Word count: 1,818

Summary: All Y/N wants to do is find her creativity and motivation but she finds 7 werewolves instead.

Author note: Long time no see! I’m such an inconsistent writer it’s not even funny. The bad thing is that I have tons of ideas written down but I can never put them onto the page. Writing is hard T_T

That first scene may or may not be from my actual feelings.

Taglist: @dustyinkpages @thickemadame @moonlitehunter @thedarkwinterrose @momoriki @iistrangers @openup-yourmind @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @lovelyseokjinnie @scuzmunkie @bjoriis @maddypool31 @tfkp0p @blubearxy @stealth-liberal @potaetopic @zae007live @totallynoanalien @dvoz-writes @purplelady85 @savagemickey03 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @blushyrawrz @skyys-universe @harmonie-writes @gamer-mask

Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13

~3 years ago~

The only thing keeping your laptop from being thrown at the wall is the fact that it’s expensive and you can’t afford to buy a new one. The feeling of the blinking cursor on the blank word document mocking you is driving you absolutely bonkers. Feeling hopeless you switch to your ideas notebook to see if physically writing would kick start your creativity. That’s a trick people on a writing forum you follow swear by. Unfortunately that ended with the poor defenseless notebook being flung across the room.

Yeji once suggested speaking to a therapist about having anger management issues after walking into your office and having to dodge a flying pen Matrix style. The thing is that writing is the only thing that brings this emotion out of you. No other thing has been this frustrating in your life, especially these past few months. This change of scenery was supposed to help, instead its made it worse since now you’re all alone dealing with the thoughts of self doubt and multiple episodes of laying on the floor like the scene in Lilo and Stitch. Except, unlike Lilo, you have no one here to tell “Leave me alone to die” to.  

You’re beginning to feel like a failure, absolutely no work has been accomplished. What kind of author can’t even write or draw? Maybe giving up the children’s book gig and becoming an erotica novel writer is a good idea. You’ve always thought about the idea of writing spicy romance novels. You’ve heard the building secretaries whispering about the newest “spicy” book they’ve seen on Tiktok. Apparently fantasy books about werewolves are very popular, talking about “mates” and “knots” and other supposedly hot things. Who knew porn about imaginary creatures would be something people would be into.

This cabin was supposed to help you write but right now it’s feeling like a stuffy prison. Checking Naver for any local coffee shops you discovered there’s a Starbucks, should you support local coffee shops instead? Yes. Would you rather have a frappucino than real coffee? Also yes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This Starbucks wasn’t a standalone building. Just like almost every other building in this town it’s connected to other shops almost like a strip mall. There’s a pet supply shop to the right of it and a tteok-bokki restaurant to the left.

Resisting the urge to stop at the restaurant you walk into the Starbucks and find that it looks just like any other one you could find in Seoul. It seems like this location is pretty popular. There’s a moderately long line of people waiting to place their order. All the tables were occupied even the seats right at the bar were taken. Sighing in defeat  you switch your laptop bag from one shoulder to the other.

Heading out the door you heard a pair of voices loudly bickering behind you. Stopping to hold the door open for the men you recognized one of the men as Yoongi from the bakery. You didn’t know the other man though.

“Would you like some coffee with all that sugar?” Yoongi said giving the other man’s drink in his hand a disgusted look.

The taller man scoffed, “Oh I’m sorry that I’m not a coffee snob like you and only drink my coffee black. I happen to love myself and caramel frapuccinos are my comfort food. Self care is important these days!”

Yoongi rolled his eyes before noticing you, “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer he was smacked on the back of his head and pushed out of the doorway. “Ya! Don’t you have any manners? Sorry about him, I’m Jin and I’m guessing you know Yoongi.””

You nodded while Yoongi turned and glared at the man behind him making a low sound that oddly resembled a dog’s growl. Shivers went down your spine and oddly down to another place that you definitely were not expecting.

“I was trying to get a frappuccino and some cake pops but the line is way too long and I didn’t want to wait.”

“I can make cake pops that are way better than those abominations. C’mon let’s go.”

Sharing a confused look with Yoongi who just shrugged you followed after Jin who was marching like a man on a mission in the direction of the bakery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking into the bakery your nose was overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon, it almost made you sneeze. Yoongi ushered you to a table near a window and told you to sit tight. Pulling out your phone you decide to browse Instagram while you waited. Leaning back in your chair you could hear muffled arguing coming from what you assumed was the kitchen in the back.

“I’m telling you, you need to play up the bad boy look. You can get more tips If you would at least answer when women ask you about your tattoos.”

“And I’m telling you, they make me uncomfortable. It’s either cranky ajummas who give me dirty looks when they notice or women who have no shame and try to touch them. I’m not a damn petting zoo, hyung.”

“You look like a zoo animal.” Jimin snickered while sitting on one of the counters near the stove. This resulted in a big glob of cream cheese frosting meant for the piping hot cinnamon rolls being launched at him narrowly missing his head and splattering on the wall. He jumped off the counter growling “Listen here you little shit.”

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing in MY kitchen?”

Jin was fuming looking at his younger mates acting like children in his precious safe haven. He knew he shouldn’t have let Yoongi talk him into going on a break.

“He started it!” Jungkook pointed at Jimin who was currently stalking towards him ready to hit him in his stupid pretty boy face.

“Shut up you little snitch!”

“Snitches get stitches” Yoongi added.

“Cut it out all of you” Namjoon called from the office rubbing his temples trying to alleviate the migraine that was forming from staring at excel sheets all day.

“Y/N is out there waiting for a coffee. This is our chance to give her the potion.” Yoongi informed the alpha wolf giving him the iced Americano he bought for him.

“Call Taehung and tell him to get over here. We’re executing the plan today.”

~Present Day~

You didn’t know what to expect but what you were expecting sure as hell wasn’t this. The room you were currently held in looked like a five star hotel room, adorned in hues of red and gold and decorated with paintings of regal wolves hunting deer and hanging around the moon goddess. If you were here under different circumstances maybe you could appreciate how beautiful this room was.

There was no clock in here so it was impossible to know how long you were trapped in this makeshift prison cell. And the lack of a window was also disorienting. Your phone sat useless on a side table, long dead. But it wasn’t needed to know at least a few hours had passed since the guards brought you.

The first hour was filled with frantic pacing and trying to open the locked door. Why were you guys being treated like prisoners? It’s not like you broke any laws. But seeing how serious the guards were you figured some werewolf law was in fact broken.

During your crisis Jungkook was somehow able to fall asleep on the plush king size bed. He was curled up in the fetal position hugging a pillow close to his body. His baby face, even more prominent while relaxed and unconscious, made him look like a young boy and not a man in his twenties even with his facial peircings.

Rage filled every part of your being as you fought the urge to yell at him to wake up and face the reality of the situation. After all this was his fault, right? Why did he take that stupid potion? Why didn’t he listen to Yuna? Why couldn’t he stop being so immature for once in his life?

This was the first emotion other than soul crushing sadness that you felt this during this whole ordeal and it scared you.

Walking away from him and into the bathroom to cool off before doing something you’d regret seemed like the right thing to do. Throwing things Jungkook already knew in his face would be cruel.

The marble of the bathroom counter felt cool against your palms as you stood in front of the sink staring at yourself in the mirror. You look rough, eyes red, face puffy and dried tears adorning your cheeks. You were never a pretty crier like the women in the Kdramas you watched every night with Jin. If said man was here he’d tell you that you looked like you got ran over by a car and that you could never catch him slipping like that.

You snorted at the memory of your overly confident mate. He always had an ugly crying face but you didn’t have the heart to ever tell him that fact. The small smile you were able to conjure up quickly fell when you remembered soon he won’t be your mate anymore.  Feeling the urge to cry once again felt ever present so you rushed to turn on the water faucet.

Cupping your hands you splashed cold water in your face. The freezing liquid was shocking enough that it felt like an emotional reset. It was a little trick you learned from Yoongi who said it always helped to ground himself when he felt a panic attack coming on. ‘You can’t freak out when you’re cold’, he’d say. You seriously contemplated taking a cold shower and just fully shocking your system into submission but that just sounded miserable.

You definitely didn’t need anymore miserable in your life.

Was everything Jungkook’s fault? Yes. Could he have killed Yoongi? Yes. But he didn’t and that should count for something right? Why couldn’t Namjoon realize he was extremely sorry? Wasn’t the mate bond supposed to be strong? Isn’t it like a supernatural marriage pact?

What happened to ‘Through sickness and health’? How could Jungkook be thrown away like trash that easily? The thing that hurt the most was that no one else but you stood up for him. Not even Taehyung who ran with his tail between his legs when he was scared. Why were you the only brave one?

Jungkook was your priority now and you would stick with him for the rest of your life. The others may have been able to be forced into abandoning their love for him but you’re stronger than that. Fuck werewolves and their cowardice.

You’re not a weak human and if you have to prove that to each and every wolf here you would. Especially your alpha.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

may I ask for a matchup, please (matchups for both eras in HP, the MCU, and DC/Gothman?) Thank you!

I'm 20 years old, aquarius, Hufflepuff with gryffindor and slytherin tendencies, straight and Poly with a guys only preference and I go by she/her pronouns! And currently I am about to graduate with a diploma for media engineering

I also stand about at 5'4" based on my last height take!As for my personality, the thing is that I know more about the best aspects of my personality the worst I only know a few.

POSITIVE/Negative TRAITS: For a start, I think of myself as someone who is kind, strong, nice, humble and loyal. I like helping people out as much as possible and try to be open-minded and understanding. I'm usually sarcastic but likes to crack a joke at times. I also stick to my personal opinions but I'm happy to learn from a mistake, if I'm being spoken to nicely and not yelled at. I would also do anything for my loved ones but I have a hard time showing it, I'm also very understanding and will stand up for what's right and fight someone for them and I won't hesitate to defend the person or call them out on their bullshit while remaining respectful.

The negative is that sometimes my head is up in the cloud as I tend to daydream alot.i tend to be too talkie so people had to tell me to stop at times.

But that usually depends on the person, as much as possible, I try to be neutral else I will beat thier ass if they are getting more disrespectful

I'm also very introverted and mostly pefer to dive into books and my art but still extrovert when i go out , I also have this rebellious streak but not super rebellious.

HOBBIES:

I have like a LOT of them. Most of them are artistic exploitations such as drawing, listening to music ,writing stories and collect stuff figurines and books but I'm usually seen on my phone and being on social media like tiktok or I'm playing video games (murder mystery, hogwarts awaked) I'm also very particularly fond of learning new things, like shistory and special languages like flower languages....and more learing about magical creatures.

Thank you so much for requesting a Matchup!! I hope you enjoy it! <333

Harry Potter (Marauders Era);

Remus Lupin:

🐾 You met Remus right after graduation while wandering an old bookshop

🐾 You were walking down rows and rows of bookshelves, before turning a corner and almost bumping into Remus; both of you apologizing profusely, but thankfully no one got hurt

🐾 Though you graduated from the school two years ago, you were pretty good at faces, and you almost instantly recognized Remus from Hogwarts, him having been in three of your classes, Potions and DADA

🐾 Remus had instantly recognized you, him having a crush on you since his fourth year, but he never did anything about it, not even telling his Marauder friends; he thought after graduating that he'd never see you again and thought that his little crush would go away, but after seeing you, Remus realized that he never got over you (his crush came back full storm)

🐾 You had found Remus adorable, his words getting all messed up when he spoke to you, him muttering and fidgeting with his lanky fingers, you simply smiled, before asking if he wanted to join you for lunch; Remus nervously said yes

🐾 The lunch went swimmingly, talking about the good ol' days in Hogwarts (though it was only a few years ago), and talking about your lives, likes, and dislikes; the both of you could feel some sort of connection between you two

🐾 After that, you both stayed in contact, making sure to meet up and hang out once in a while, when you both weren't busy or working; you both were quickly growing feelings for one another, and the two of your get-togethers slowly turned into dates, that's to be sure

🐾 Remus's crush on you definitely grew to one of love, he loved how much you loved reading, writing, and listening to music; Remus loved how caring and understanding you were, even when it came to his furry little problem

🐾 You found Remus incredibly sweet and charming, you loved how loyal and kind he was; he always knew how to calm you down if anything was wrong and always loved to just sit and read a book with you

🐾 Together, you two were practically attached to the hip, always together reading or just spending time together in some way; the two of you would do everything together, and always supported each other, making sure each other are healthy and well-minded, and, most of all, loved

--

Harry Potter (Lightning Era);

Neville Longbottom:

🌹 You met Neville when you join Hogwarts as the new Muggle Studies and History professor, having sat next to him during meals and finding him pretty handsome

🌹 You later found out that he was the Herbology Professor, and had a fascination and love for anything green and plant-y; you found this adorable and instantly wanted to get to know him

🌹 It took a while until you got up the courage to talk to the teacher, but after a bit of self-reassurance and daydreaming, you finally spoke to the professor during lunch; you both introduced yourselves and soon enough, a friendship blossomed

🌹 When you both didn't have classes, the two of you would do your period planning and homework correcting together, talking about plants, students, and even some of your hobbies

🌹 You had once given Neville a drawing of one of Neville's favorite plants for his birthday, and he loved it; that was the day he realized he really like you, in fact, he thought he might love you

🌹 You were smitten with the Herbology professor, finding him sweet and such a gentleman, his green eyes reminded you of the many plants that he adored and his brown hair reminded you of the dirt they were often planted in; he was amazingly gorgeous, and you were shocked that he didn't have a partner already

🌹 One day, while you were in class with your third-year students, teaching them about Muggle history, an owl flew through your open window, carrying a bouquet of beautiful flowers; you gasped, seeing them, and your students watching with curiosity as you read the small note, 'I grew these for you, I hope you like them. I was wondering if you would like to join me at Hogsmeade tomorrow after afternoon classes? - Sincerely, Neville'

🌹 Neville was a bit nervous, waiting outside of Three Broomsticks Inn, growing more and more nervous as he waited, his hands stuffed into his long, dark green robes; at the sound of his name, he turned, smiling as he watched you strut over to him, a bright smile on your face; he heart was singing

🌹 As the days and weeks went on, you and Neville finally became an item, holding hands as Neville walks you to your classroom, sharing sweet chaste kisses before heading to your professor dorms, and having picnics in the greenhouse together

🌹 Together, you and Neville are two peas in a pod, you are the stem to his flowers, the earmuffs to his mandrake, and you had captured his heart, you are his life; and you felt the same, finding your Neville to be your knight in shining armor, your lion, your brave prince, and you loved him wholeheartedly

--

Marvel;

Steve Rogers:

⭐ You met Steve when you joined the Avengers since Fury had found that you had an amazing set of powers

⭐ Steve was then in charge of training you, making sure you were ready for any mission, and Natasha would help too, putting you under her wing; you quickly became friends because of that

⭐ You were a bit intimidated by the Captain America, but also found him marvelous, amazed by his every move; from the way he moved, fought, talked, and the way his hair just seemed to flow, gorgeous (not to forget that America's booty he had)

⭐ Long story short, you had been daydreaming about a certain Captain and his cake when he broke you out of that daydream daze, and yes, you were mighty embarrassed, and Steve was mighty confused, but told you to make sure you are aware of your surrounding; Steve was mostly concerned that you'd get injured by not paying attention

⭐ Believe it or not, Steve really liked you, a lot really, when he first saw you, he thought you were really pretty, really pretty; but he pushed his feelings away since you were a coworker now and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable

⭐ But, it seemed that Steve wasn't too good at hiding his attraction for you, since Tony and Bucky noticed immediately, instantly teasing him about it, they even tried to get him to ask you out; Tony's rambling wasn't really helping that case, but once he left and Bucky gave Steve a talking to, Steve finally gained the courage to ask you out on a nice date

⭐ When he asked you, of course, you said yes, and Steve made sure to take you to this nice little diner where the two of you ate old fashion burgers and chocolate and vanilla shakes; there the two of you bonded over your love for drawing, and Steve told you that he'd love to see your work, and you said the same

⭐ After the two of you started dating and made if official, some days Steve would find his shield missing, but he knew where it was, or really, who took it; you loved to prank Steve, taking his shield and pretending to be Steve, lowering your voice and doing the pledge of allegiance, Steve would always find you and thought you were adorable, he could never be angry at you

⭐ Steve finds you incredible, he loves how much you care for others like him, and are always so sweet and how funny you are, he loves just spending time with you, reading and drawing with you, (drawing you specifically); you were sunshine on a gloomy day

⭐ You and Steve are best friends, soulmates, and there was nothing that could tear the both of you apart; you were both perfect for each other

--

DC;

Clark Kent:

⛅ You met Clark when you joined the Daily Planet as the new assistant to Mr. White, giving him his paperwork, getting him to sign something, or he'd just asking you to get him a coffee; your job seemed easy, but it really wasn't

⛅ You had wanted to be the newspaper editor, you loved reading the newspaper and thought editing it would be a fun job, but they weren't hiring an editor and so you became an assistant, and that was when you met Clark

⛅ You were rushing with paperwork in your arms and went straight into Mr. White's office, accidentally interrupting his and Clark's conversation; it was awkward and you apologized, hoping you weren't going to be fired after a week, but you were in luck, Clark saved the day

⛅ Clark introduced himself, as the Daily Planet journalist, and you were in awe, he was so handsome; how come his hair was so perfect, and his eyes were so stunning, and his teeth were so gleaming? Amazing

⛅ Clark found you just as amazing, he loved how sweet you seemed, and even complimented your little sketches and doodles on your notebook cover that you held in your arms; you two were having a lovely time just talking before Mr. White asked the two of you to leave

⛅ It didn't take long before you started daydreaming about the amazing Clark Kent, thinking about his hair and how soft it look, and the way his eyes shimmered and his voice, so dreamy; you wanted to daydream more about him but you had to get back to work

⛅ Only a couple weeks later, Clark asked you out for lunch, and so did your relationship begin, from cute little dates during lunch and wondering why Clark was rushing off early after you heard sirens, you thought he was perfect nonetheless

⛅ You began to get a bit suspicious, when Clark would run off during dates or just hanging out, but you sort of put the puzzle pieces together, realizing Clark was Superman all along; which was pretty cool to you, since a couple days after you moved to Metropolis, you were saved by the man

⛅ The two of you would spend as much time with each other as possible since he'd sometimes have to go and save the day, but the two of you would spend it wisely; reading together in each other's arms, drawing sketches of each other, playing video games (though Clark's really bad at it, except Mario Kart, he always wins), and showing Clark your favorite TikToks

⛅ You and Clark are perfect, the idol relationship, the number one couple; Clark is your hero and you love him to the moon and back, and Clark was feeling the same, he'd do anything for you, just say it

--

Gotham;

James Gordan:

🔫 You met James (Jim) Gordan when you were brought into the GPD for probably knowing information on some criminal, but they got the wrong person, you didn't know anything about any criminal; they didn't believe you though, which was annoying

🔫 They looked through your stuff, your phone, and they knew that you had to have something to do with the recent crimes that have been happening, you must have been involved, but you weren't, you kept telling them; you really didn't have any involvement

🔫 When Jim got hold of the news that some cops captured an informant of some high-up criminal, Jim wanted to have a go and interrogate the person, thinking you were this hard criminal; when he saw you, looking small in the metal chair, he realized his coworkers have got the wrong person

🔫 Not saying that Jim didn't think you could be a criminal, you could've been, anyone can, but you just had this aura, that you weren't a terrible person, you didn't seem like you would intentionally hurt someone, and so he let you go, but not before giving you his number in case you needed anything

🔫 You did call, a lot later, but you called Jim and asked him for help, but guess what, someone had ransacked your place and you didn't feel safe, and it turns out because the cops had plastered your face in the newspaper about how they caught an informant, you were now a target, a big yay on the police's end 🙄

🔫 Jim, as an apology for putting you in danger, become your personal bodyguard, making sure you were alright and giving you a place to stay; it was awkward at first, but you got used to staying in Jim's room while he took the couch, no matter how many time you said you'd take the couch

🔫 Slowly, and awkwardly, the two of you bonded and got used to each other, to a point that there weren't weird silences anymore and the two of you gradually became friends; your crush on him didn't start until you woke up to breakfast made and a note from Jim telling you that he had bought you your favorite cookies; they were in the cupboard

🔫 Jim really liked you, growing a crush on you as well, after coming home to find dinner made, and you asleep on the couch, a book open in your lap; Jim smiled as he picked you up and took you back to his bed, making sure you were comfortable and all tucked in

🔫 There was no confession, but you both somehow understood and realized that the two of you did feel the same, the two of you holding hands and kissing after watching your favorite movie; it was magical

🔫 In the end, you made Jim a better person, really, and Jim thought you were the best person that has ever come into his life; the two of you were there for each other, supported each other, and would always love each other

[nekole-doodles]

[Extra notes below the picture]

1. I only recently mostly phased out of my Gacha phase because no one made satisfying enough videos. Those reaction and AU Crossovers videos used to go so hard thoooo!!! This is where I found my love for AU Crossovers and making AUs :D I always had very high standards for GC videos though which honestly probably saved me from being one of those questionable people who pushes the fandom's boundaries.

2. Still LOVE FNaF and fnaf fanartists have been saving my mental health these past few weeks after DSMP started falling off

3. I have a few closeted/subtle DSMP cosplays like C! Wilbur(who I dressed up as for Halloween) and C! Tommy and TCFSV! Siren is in progress(looking for the iconic white and red t-shirt and working on getting a black coat and my friend is making a shimmery blue blindfold for me :D) I'll be dressing up as TCFSV! Siren for the hero/villain day at my school :))) So excited

3. Anime(specifically Haikyuu) was my first hyperfixation but Violet Evergarden remains one of my tops (Also, Yuri!!! On Ice recently joined the ranks since I just watched it. It has changed my brain chemistry)

4. I can recognize soooo many tiktok audios despite only getting TikTok last year because I always watched FNaF and Haikyuu compilations.

5. No comment :/ (I like women :])

6. A Mitski song was just playing a minute ago agsksnj

7. So many YouTubers raised me omg, especially MCYTubers(clearly) DanTDM, LDShadowlady, Ihascupquake, etc, those were fun days :]

8. I still remember her obsession with bread, like that one time she made a tower of bread in Job Simulator

9. Honestly, Hot Topic doesn't have great stuff for me but I've been there several times

10. Only a few of her songs but I think it still counts. I mostly listen to her through DSMP animatics/animations (which says a lot as is)

11. TALLY HALL, no further comment :]

12. I stopped using it as much but yeah. I love emoticons, especially TvT :) :] :') =>= :D TwT etc

13. MY MUSIC IS BUILT OFF OF ANIMATION MEMES!!! Before I found my groove with indie music, this was basically 99% of my music

14. Just look at my page. That says enough. Longest and strongest hyperfixation and has had the most impact on my life despite me joining late. Haikyuu was my phase while I was getting out of a bad time but DMSP was there as I found myself and it helped me find a lot of the things I enjoy now(art, writing, cosplays, fanartists, content creators like Philza, a love for animatics and fanart, etc) You can tell how much this fandom means to me

15. I wouldn't say I'm "good" per say, but I still love art and like to think I'm improving :> I still have a long way to go but DSMP and QSMP makes for good inspiration to practice drawing through fanart :]

16. ... Do fish count??? I mean- I have owned 3 hamsters and guinea pigs that one time but it never really worked out. I'd love to have a cat but I'm really allergic which is devastating :[

Anywayyyy, I rambled a lot :D I always ramble. I AM the ramble :)

[duuhrayliegh]

my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Paintbrush (Spencer Reid x Artist!Reader)

Summary: You’re an artist in DC, and a serial killer has started using your artwork as inspiration for his murders.

Warnings: Mentions murder (duh) but doesn’t go into detail

Notes: This is way longer than I planned lol. I based the chaotic-artist vibe that the reader has going on the tiktoker @/artistkatiesmall so y’all can watch her tik toks if you like chaotic energy and paint as much as i do. Oh also I tried to keep this gender-neutral but if there are any pronouns in here that shouldn’t be let me know and I’ll fix it!! I use she/her so sometimes it just comes naturally and i don’t notice. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

You were in your studio, listening to music as loud as physically possible. Your art studio is like a safe haven; the only place you feel completely yourself. Right now you’re working on your latest piece. Your art style is very “splattered paint that ends up looking like something”, which your mother had told you on multiple occasions. She had meant it as an insult, but you ended up taking the term and making it your own. She’s not wrong; you typically start your pieces by throwing some paint on a canvas and letting it take you somewhere. So here you are, slapping paint on a canvas and screaming the lyrics to your favorite song.

As the painting began to take form - you hadn’t decided what it would be yet, but you’re excited with what you have - you heard some pounding that didn’t match the beat of the song. Grabbing your phone, you turned down the music, and the pounding could be heard much more clearly now. “Y/N Y/L/N! FBI!” You quickly paused the music and rushed to the door. As you opened the door, your paintbrush (still covered in paint...oops) was tucked behind your ear. At your entrance was two men, one tall and skinny, and the other older with graying hair. “Y/N?” The younger of the two asked, his voice considerably softer than when he’d yelled through your door. You only nodded, and each of the men showed you their badges before the older of the two spoke.

“I’m SSA Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You opened the door wider now, allowing them both to step inside your small studio. “Um, sorry about the mess, I’m not exactly the most conventional artist.” You apologized. You would've offered them a seat, but you only had two chairs in the place, and they were both occupied by piles of your various art supplies. “What is this about?”

Dr. Reid held a file in his hands, which he passed over to you as he spoke. “Do you recognize any of these paintings?” You open the file to find 4 pictures of your own artwork; portraits of various different people. One short blonde woman, one ginger man with an impressive beard, and a hispanic woman with a pixie cut. 

“Yeah, I painted these a while back...Why does the FBI care about some random commission artwork?”

“Someone commissioned you to do these?” Dr. Reid spoke quickly, causing you to look away from the pictures and back towards him. “Uh, yeah. He calls me every once in a while and asks for weirdly specific portraits.”

“What do you mean, weirdly specific? You don’t base your work off of pictures?” SSA Rossi asked you.

“No, he’s never given me pictures to work from. He just describes the person he wants me to paint. Like about two weeks ago,” You paused as you walked over to your cluttered desk, and grabbed your notepad, which was still open to the page you’d jotted down your notes on, “He asked for a portrait of a short, Asian man with bleach blonde hair, dark eyes, and one pierced ear.” You handed the notepad to Dr. Reid, who scanned it quickly. 

“What’s his name?” He asked, before handing the notepad to his partner.

“Tanner. I don’t know his last name, he always pays with cash. What’d he do?”

The two men looked at each other briefly, before Dr. Reid spoke again, “We believe Tanner has been killing the people that you paint. He left the paintings at the crime scene.”

Your heart dropped. Not only had you been in constant contact with this psychopath, but you felt like you’d inadvertently helped him. You took his money, and he killed the people who looked like your paintings. 

“I know this is shocking, but have you painted anyone else for him?”

“Uh, no, this was the most rece-” You cut yourself off, remembering something from the last time you’d spoken with Tanner. “He bought a painting of me.”

“When?” Dr. Reid asked.

“When, uh, when he picked up the last painting. I had a self-portrait sitting over there that I'd done for fun. He asked if he could have it along with the other one, he paid me extra for it-”

“What day, Y/N?” Dr. Reid placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. You felt like you might pass out.

“3 days ago.”

Again, the two agents looked at each other, and their faces didn’t make you feel any better.

“Y/N, why don’t you come with us to the police station, you’ll be safe there.” You could only nod in response letting them lead you out of the studio. Before you exited, Dr. Reid grabbed the paintbrush from behind your ear, placing it on a table before you made your way out to the car.

~~~

Sitting in the police station was like torture. First of all, you were wearing your normal painting outfit: a paint-stained t-shirt an ex had left at your place, jeans that were so ripped up you could barely call them jeans anymore, and of course, socks and sandals. The cops were either completely ignoring your presence, or asking you the same questions you’d already answered dozens of times. One top of all that, they wouldn’t let you do anything besides sit and wait. You had managed to find a paper pad and a pen, so at least your doodling could help pass the time.

You’d been at the station for over an hour already, which meant your doodle was nearly perfect; you ended up drawing one of the agents, Dr. Reid. From where you were sitting, he was in clear sight, and one of the only people who was actually sitting still enough for you to draw. And, y’know, he’s the only person you want to look at long enough for you to draw. 

“Is that me?” His voice startled you; you’d been looking down at the paper and didn’t notice Dr. Reid coming towards you. You dropped the pen immediately, and moved the paper out of his sight.

“I’m sorry Doctor, I was just, y’know, bored and-” You tried to put together a sentence, but your embarrassment was getting the best of you.

“I don’t mind, I, um, think it’s kind of flattering. Can I see it?” Dr. Reid asked, and you reluctantly handed the paper over. You’d been an artist for so long, you were almost never nervous for people to see your work anymore; you have a very “if they like it, great! If they don’t, I don’t care,” kind of attitude when it comes to your artwork. But Dr. Reid was making you nervous. “You don’t have to call me Doctor by the way. Reid is fine. Or, uh, Spencer. You can call me Spencer.” He had a light blush on his face as he spoke, which calmed you a little bit. At least he’s just as nervous as you. Suddenly, as if he was snapped out of his train of thought, Spencer handed the paper back to you and cleared his throat before speaking. “We used the phone number you gave us to find Tanner, but he doesn’t have any listed addresses. Did you ever deliver paintings to him?” Behind him, another one of the agents who’d talked to you, Hotch, walked up.

“Um, no. I’d just call him whenever I finished a painting and he’d come to me.”

“Would you be willing to call him again?” Hotch asked. Your eyes widened at the idea. You’re already terrified at the notion that you may be a target for a serial killer, but calling him? Hotch must have noticed your fear, as he began to explain further, “We can track his location with a phone call, but we need some time to do it. If you’re the one speaking, he’ll probably stay on the line long enough for our technical analyst to find him.” 

You took a deep breath, before nodding slowly. “Y-yeah. I can do that. Can you guys give me a minute first? I need some air.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking out of the police station. Once you got outside, walked to the end of the building and leaned against the side wall. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply. You couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility over those people’s deaths. Tanner had taken your artwork, your passion, and ruined it.

“Are you ok?” You looked up to find Spencer standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.

“Not really.” You played with your hands as you spoke, not making eye contact.

“You feel guilty, don’t you?” He asked, as he moved to lean against the wall next to you. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside? Y’know, you’ve got a serial killer to catch.”

“You know there are a lot of signs that someone feels guilty. Avoiding eye contact, changing the subject, lack of an appetite...I noticed you didn’t eat the snacks JJ got for you.” He was right, Agent Jareau had gotten you some snacks that you left untouched back in the station. When you didn’t say anything, Spencer continued, “Usually when I see people acting like this, they have good reason to be guilty. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.”

“I inspired him.” When you looked up at Spencer, he gave you a confused look. “When I saw him last, when he wanted to buy that painting of me, I asked him why. He said that my artwork inspires him. If...If I hadn’t painted those people, they could still be alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But there’s a possibility, isn’t there? You can’t say for sure that he would’ve killed them anyways, can you?”

Spencer was silent for a moment, confirming your fears. Eventually, he spoke up. “He may not have killed those exact people, He would’ve killed someone. He’s already killed before.” Your eyebrows shot up at this, so Spencer kept talking, “We think we can connect him to two murders from a few years ago. If he had never used your art as part of his signature, it would’ve taken us a lot longer to find him. He may have even gotten away with it all together.” Spencer’s words did give you a little relief. You still felt bad for the way your art had been used, but it was a good reminder that you weren’t the murderer. That Tanner’s actions had nothing to do with yours.

“Thank you.” Spencer nodded in response, giving you a small smile. “I guess I have a phone call to make.”

~~~ a week later ~~~

You were back in your studio, getting ready for a new painting. Just as you placed your canvas on the easel, there was a knock on the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to find Spencer Reid on the other side. “Spencer?”

“Hi.” There was an awkward moment of silence before Spencer spoke again. “I, uh, saw your mural. It’s beautiful.” A small smile formed on your face at the mention of the mural. After you helped the BAU catch Tanner, you reached out to the family of the victims. With their permission, you painted a mural that was put up at the memorial down the road. The mural had been featured on local DC news channels, which is probably how Spencer had seen it.

“Thank you. I probably wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for you.” As you spoke, you moved over so that Spencer could enter the studio space. “Back at the police station, I wanted to quit art. Figured I’d finally put that communications degree to use or something.” Spencer lightly laughed as you continued, “But you made me realize that I can still do something good with my art.”

“I’m glad.” Spencer paused, and took a deep breath, and a step towards you, “Do you, uh, think we could go get coffee sometime? I mean, it doesn’t have to be coffee, we could get tea, or um, lemonade, we could get lemon-”

“Spencer!” You cut him off, with a light laugh. You found his nerves to be both flattering and cute. “I’d love to get any beverage you’d like, as long as you’re there with me.” You ran your hands through your pockets, looking for the sharpie you’d had in your hand before you’d opened the door. “Where is…” you mumbled, looking down at your pockets. Suddenly, you felt Spencer’s hand at your ear, where he pulled down the sharpie you’d placed there.

“Looking for this?” He was now standing close enough to you that he only had to whisper. 

“Yeah” You responded, at the same volume he’d used. You took the sharpie from his hand, but before he could pull it away, you grabbed it and wrote down your phone number. When you finished, you looked up to Spencer’s face, which had turned pink. “Call me whenever.”

Neither you or Spencer said a word, you just stood there, staring at each other. You couldn’t help but try to memorize every feature of his face. Your staring contest was interrupted by Spencer’s phone dinging. He took a step back, much to your disappointment, and looked down at the text. “I, uh, I have to get to work. We have a new case.” You could tell he was disappointed too.

“Ok.” You whispered. Spencer looked at you for one more moment before he did what you least expected; before you even realized what was happening, his hand was wrapped around your waist and his lips were on yours. Your hands found their way to his collar, pulling him even closer to you.

You two didn’t pull apart until Spencer’s phone went off again. “You better call me.” You said, finally letting go of him.

“I will, promise.” Was the last thing he said to you before rushing off to work. When the door closed behind him, you turned to your blank canvas with a clear idea in mind. So you turned up the music, grabbed your paints, and began to put every detail of Spencer you could remember onto the canvas.

~~~

Notes: i’ll be honest idk how i feel about this ending lmao but i hope y’all liked it

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac

[katsuflossy]

Misguided Spark

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x black reader

TW: Suggestive themes, some obscenities, Becky

A/n: Why do I always get inspired by Tiktoks 😭😭 but anyways I’ve been giving Mr Bakugo wayy too much attention and neglecting our shocky boy Denki. So please enjoy!!! 💕

P.S. credit to my bb @iiminibattlehero for giving me a title when my brain was pooped😣

You’ve been with Denki for two years. After joining Uravity’s agency, you’ve met the bolt of lightning that struck through your beautiful black heart (this was after many failed pickup lines and one failed date that resulted in your favorite shirt getting seared off.) Denki did nothing to conceal you, in fact, he showed you off despite your protests; the few couples photos on his Instagram told the story of your love life—not secret but it’s none of your business. 

So why do his fans pair him up with every other hero?!

You would’ve understood if he was shipped with his friends and other heroes in the Big Leagues; your reputation being Uraraka’s sidekick had granted you some fame but you hadn’t reached the big pond yet. 

However, his mass of fans and reporters paired him with everyone under the sun—heroes and sidekicks alike—except you. Just last week Mina nearly choked out a reporter because he trailed her during her patrol, asking what she and Chargebolt did last night. Who knew a simple drink with close friends would spread like wildfire over the news. Oh, not to mention you were there too, holding Kaminari’s hand and laying your head on his shoulder. Your brown face and body had been cut out from every magazine seen the next day. The picture of Mina and Kaminari at an older drink night resurfaced on your timeline, showing Mina slapping his back as he choke-laughed on some beer. 

You didn’t tell Denki your insecurities about the whole world romanticizing him with other very pale—except for Mina’s case—heroes. You can picture his exact laugh, his hand falling on your cheek while affirming you had nothing to worry about. You’re his lovely lady forever and always. 

However, tonight was a different kind of irritation.

The bedroom finally fell quiet, your steamy session released the sexual tension during today’s joint practice. Kaminari’s eyes followed your heavenly molded ass all around the gym, and your own followed his nicely sculpted back when it was angled in your peripheral view. The deed was done now. Your finger made pointless drawings on his naked chest as you laid against his stomach, looking thoughtlessly up at him and his blonde glory. Two nude bodies curled against each other in comfortable silence.

At least that was the case until your phone pinged due to a notification. Your phone glowed the Twitter symbol, the only app you used to keep up with the hero scene and news. One glance at the title and you wished you had put your phone on Do Not Disturb.

Chargebolt's with a civilian fiancee?! Read more about the Electric hero dating top American chef, Becky Gudhear, and their secret relationship.

Your lips formed a scowl at the picture. The blond female chef was entering a car as Denki held her umbrella above her head, the rain clattering against the umbrella as he smiled at the lady. Only for you to remember the next two minutes after the photo was taken; Denki snatched you up, running through the rain as both screamed in delight. 

You shot up from his muscular chest, the middle of your brows creased and your brown thumb scrolled through the hashtags. Denki looked at you before going on his own phone.

Deku’s ratty shoes @noticemesemmpai: “I didn’t know Denki liked white girls *this goes completely with my fantasy*”

Ground zero’s harem girl @otakuforevaava: “Not him cheating on Mina.”

Ground zero’s harem girl #2 @lemmebiteacrumbofdatass: “@otakuforevaava Nah, he’s with Jiro. Did y’all not see when she gave him that hug?”

Your eyes darted from one ship to another, none ever mentioning you, before throwing your phone on the mattress. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, removing yourself from its comfort to pace around the room in frustration. Denki cocked a brow at your strange behavior; you weren’t usually this upset and if you were, you’d simply just watch baby videos until you perked up. The screen glowed through the mattress despite being faced down, holding the secret of your furrowed eyebrows and sharp glare. He took up the phone, showing all the news outlets, fan mentions, and titles creating a relationship not with his black girlfriend but with some random lady that he helped out of the kindness of his heart. 

“Damn, they’re really going bonkers over this one act of kindness. Is Chivalry that dead?”

“As dead as their brains are.” You grumbled out, flopping back on to the edge of the bed.

“It’ll die out in a week. Give or take.” 

“Or not at all. They always come back when they spot you 6 feet from this lady, then resurface this same picture or even better crop me out and photoshop her in it!” Your outburst was met with silence and a wide-eyed, very concerned lighting wielder. 

“...but it’s cool tho.” 

“(Y/n)? Why didn’t you tell me this’d been hurting you?” Your gaze averted to your fingers, twiddling as your embarrassment heated your cheeks.

“I didn’t want to because I thought you’d think I was silly for thinking like that. Plus, I was the one that told you that being with a superhero like you will make me look like a whore trying to climb the ranks.”

“Silly? Baby, I nearly threw your teddy bear across the room because it was looking at your ass too much. If anything I’m the silly one.”

“You didn’t nearly throw Parker across the room, you did throw him across the room.” Two pairs of eyes went to the slumped bear at the opposite corner of the room. It’s patched tongue ratty due to the force it was a victim to.

“... And I’d do it again.” Your attempt to sigh only released the giggle in your throat as Denki continued.

“And baby? Fuck what these tabloids are saying. You’re a skillful fighter and Ochaco’s number one sidekick! If that isn’t a fine, brave, amazing woman then I don’t know what is.” Your body tingled in warmth, unable to hide the physical effects of his compliments as wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him straight on his lips.

“Thank you Denki, I really needed to hear that.” 

“Oh, I’m not done yet.” He moved out of your embrace, kneeling to set his phone up on the bedside table. The lamp was used as support, showing the front camera the entirety of the room. 

“Denki? What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry doll, just sit there and look pretty.” He continued to tap against the screen before a familiar symbol popped up.

Tiktok, one of Denki’s favorite apps, met your eyes as it began to start up. Denki was one of the only pro heroes on Tiktok, which garnered him 5.5 million followers, and at least a million views each video he made. He swiped and scrolled until his eyes lighted up.

“Go put on my shirt. I don’t want them seeing any parts of you only for my pleasure.” You raised an eyebrow at the request but still complied. 

“Now come here, sexy.” Your footsteps hesitantly approached his side of the bed, unknowing about what scheme he made up in his brain. You stopped right where the camera couldn’t see you but you were too far for his liking, so he grabbed the plush of your thigh, pulling you close enough to bury his nose into your flesh. 

“That’s more like it. You ready?” 

“Denki I swear to God you better answer me. What are we doing—”

He tapped the screen, unaffected by your threat, and began to record. The beat was all too familiar before your eyes widened and your face erupted in heat. Sex Talk?!

“Aye uh...ahhh.” He wasted no time getting into character, sticking his tongue out as he winked at the camera. Your melanin-rich thigh stared back at you through the phone, making it known that the leg Denki held indeed belonged to a black person. His hand, under the shirt, kept firm on the back of your thigh to ensure that you stayed within the frame as he continued his Tiktok.

“Aye, bad bitch tastes like cherry kiwi, real big titties these double DDs.” He sings out the song, pointing to your very exposed thigh. Your face hot, the thought of this going online burned your face with not only embarrassment but also excitement. You buried your face in your hands as Denki skimmed your leg with his nose.

“Mwah…” He pressed his lips against your flesh, the epicenter sending tingling waves through your body as he looked straight up at you. His eyes twinkled with mischief as the sound ended. He grabbed the phone before you could reach it, hitting ‘post’ before you could snatch it out of his hand.

“Denki! Your PR manager is so going to kill me.” You scrolled through his phone frantically; it was already pinging with likes and comments from the video posted just 10 seconds ago.

He plucked the phone from your hands and placed it down on the table.

“Never mind that baby girl. The song said a bad bitch tastes like cherry kiwi and I suddenly forgot how that taste. Maybe I should sample you again…” Without ceasing he pressed his lips against yours, ready to start the night off again. 

(H/n)’s footstool @blackshipper: @theeofficialy/n this you? *Chargebolt’s new TikTok*

Chargebolt and (h/n) sittin in a tree @comegetyalljuice: I fucking knew it! (h/n)’s living our Chargebolt fantasy.

Stream Sex Talk by Megan @kpophoebutnotondalow: If your man ain’t kissing up your thigh like Chargebolt did with (h/n), is he even your man?

Mirko’s left rabbit foot @westanMirko: Guys, that’s not @theeofficialy/n, that’s Mirko duh…

You rolled your eyes at the tweet before scrolling through the rest of them. Denki’s chest raised and lowered as he looked through his own phone. Suddenly, you received an email notification. Your eyes widened as you read its body.

“Denki! Some talk show wants us to come in and talk about our relationship. They finally recognize that I’m your partner!” He craned his neck to face you, offering a smirk at your excitement.

“Good, that’ll show Parker who you’re real man is!” The teddy bear stayed in the corner it was thrown, now laying on its side, looking solemnly at the bed. 

“You’re annoying.”

“You still love me though.” A smile spanned your face as you inched closer to Denki’s. Your lips met his in a soft embrace before withdrawing. 

“Yeah, I do.”

[chwrpg]

What's happenin', hot stuff? -- Duk Barnes

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Can I just say, you knocked this completely out of the park, Kayla !!! I am so, so, so, so ready to see what you’ll be doing with Duk given the groundwork you put down in this application. Not just that, but Duk was simply missed on this dash. I love, love, love him and thank you for taking him up once more.

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

Your fave Kayla, she/her, 26, EST

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Donald “Duk” Barnes

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

Okay so like I am always trying to be better for you guys, so let’s be optimistic and say 6 out of 10.

SECONDARY CHOICE:

N/A

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

One of the things I’ve always loved about Duk is his kind heart. Like, underneath that very attractive exterior, there’s really a heart of gold. When I have written him before, I’ve always enjoyed how much he loves his family. It’s something I connect to and part of what draws me to him. He especially loves and is close to his sister, Sage. He never has seen her as weird, she’s just Sage. His relationship with his two younger siblings is different, of course, but I know he loves them and would do anything for them. It’s the same principle that I see in him with his friends. He’s very much ride or die, as the kids say. He’s also respectful and so funny. I love him so much and I’m forever grateful to be part of giving more depth to a character that was originally just a stereotype.

SAMPLE WRITING:

Adjusting his AirPod in his ear, Duk Barnes reached for his phone, hitting play on his coming to America playlist he had curated specifically for this moment when the pilot announced they had reached America and would reach their destination shortly. 

In a second, he heard the familiar strains of his first track begin just before: “I hopped off the plane at LAX / With a dream and my cardigan / Welcome to the land of fame excess / Whoa, am I gonna fit in?” 

It was a surprisingly apt song for having been released over ten years ago in what felt like an entirely different world. He could remember Sage playing this song over and over until he broke her CD in a moment of anger. He smiled to himself, thinking about how she’d laugh about how he was willingly listening to it now. 

It had been over two months since he’d seen her in person. Or anyone in his big, loud, crazy American family. He’d talked to them through instant messaging, Skype, FaceTime. But that was it. For he had done something crazy on his own. 

He’d gone to Singapore. To meet his biological family for the first time. 

The thing was when Duk had turned 18, his mom had sat him down and presented him with a rather thick packet tucked inside a time-worn Manila envelope. 

“This,” She had said with a shaky breath “Is everything I have about your biological family. You’re an adult now and your dad and I think that it’s time for you to have it.” 

At the time, he didn’t know what to say. He’d taken the big envelope without a word, just nodding. 

“You don’t have to do anything with the information if you don’t want to, of course.” His mom said rather quickly, having taken his surprised silence for disinterest. “But it’s yours. You used to always want to know more about your… your roots. At the time, I didn’t think it was right for me to share. But in there,” She nodded then to the packet where Duk was touching the golden brad holding the envelope shut. “In there, I think you’ll find the answers.” 

In truth, he hadn’t opened it until a year later, He’d found it stashed in a neglected high school science textbook he had forgotten to return while preparing his things to return to college. Sitting at his desk, he finally pried it open. And his mom had been right, the answers to each question he could have wanted to ask were there. 

There was also a letter. In a perfect script, on a fine soft-feeling stationery, written in English. It was from his mother’s mother. She wrote about her disappointment that Duk was given up for adoption, how she wished to raise him herself in Singapore, and gave some background about their family, how they were proudly Chinese and Malaysian and had such history that could be traced back over centuries. She wrote about how his mother had come to Chicago to study and fell in love with a white man. They’d broken up before Duk was even born and it was clear that the man didn’t want to be involved in raising the child. But his mother gave him up because she wanted to focus on her career and how the whole family had prayed that this baby would find a good home and a good family to love him as much as they all did. 

However, most importantly, it said that Duk was, no matter what, part of the family and welcome to come to Singapore and meet them. 

Using some of the names mentioned in the letter, Duk cautiously typed them into Google. The results were mostly in Mandarin, which he knew very little of, so he used the translate function to see what could be made of the articles. It looked like his maternal grandfather was something of a mogul. He had created a hotel and resort empire that spanned not only Singapore, but other countries in Asia and, apparently, a few in development in Europe. It felt unreal, and sat heavy in his chest. So much so that he had abruptly shut his laptop so hard he thought he would break it. 

But it all had stirred up something in Duk. A yearning for something he couldn’t quite name. So, he took up learning Mandarin. He wanted to be able to communicate with his newfound biological family, on the off-chance that maybe some of them wouldn’t speak English. First with Duolingo, then borrowing Rosetta Stone from the local library. He wasn’t fluent, might not ever be so, but as he kept working on it, he realized he took to it almost naturally. The words felt right in his mouth. He saved money in a Tupperware container that he hid in the back of his sock drawer. He had given the adoption agency his information in the hopes that he would hear from his family and the first person to email him was his maternal grandmother. She was who he practiced writing Mandarin to, then, slowly, spoke to on Facetime. She was an adorable lady, with a big smile that reminded Duk of his own and the same shared love of the chaos and beauty of life. She encouraged him to come to Singapore and offered to help financially, but he told her it was okay. He could do it. He’d get there, he’d just need a place to stay. 

“Well,” she said, a determined but amused look on her face. “That much I can do.”

Singapore was… beyond words. He would never be able to put words to the beauty of the country of his biological family and the feeling that settled in his chest when he stepped off the plane for the first time. It took his breath away, looking out across the tarmac, toward the trees and then the city skyline just beyond. It looked like something out of a movie about the future. If he didn’t know better, he would have been anticipating to see flying cars in the sky. It was amazing - and insanely scary - to meet the family, some of whom were eagerly awaiting him as he walked out of customs. It was kind of freaky, too, to notice how he could see himself, for the first time in real life, in other people. Grandma had given him the biggest hug and kissed both his cheeks. He wouldn’t remember all their names and how they were connected to him at first, his head felt full with information and tired from long hours whiled away in the air. He was, however, mildly surprised to discover that his family all seemed to speak English better than he could and playfully teased him with smiles on their faces about his choppy Mandarin. 

Looking at his phone now, he flipped past photos of himself with cousins and various friends of the family, past the TikToks and other videos he had made of his travels (he had been surprised when his video of himself dancing in various airports on his way to Singapore to Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself” had begun raking in the likes). It made him smile and he knew already he couldn’t wait to go back. Grandma had begun hinting, toward the end of his time there, that he could try for dual citizenship and had outright offered him a job with the family company, even though Duk wasn’t sure if his uncle - the current CEO of the business - was certain of him. He stops on a video of himself doing one of the many TikTok dances with his cousins outside of a nightclub. They’d been the ones to show him the country’s nightlife, showed him what was what and brought him up to speed on the culture. They’d even managed to get him onto Weibo, the Chinese social media site, and looped him into their WhatsApp groupchat. 

They had encouraged him, too, to meet his mother. Which was… easier said than done, it would turn out. He didn’t meet her until his last few days in Singapore. They’d texted a little before that, mostly just to set up a time and place. And when he had seen her, sitting by the window at the tea shop, it was like looking in a mirror. They had the same eyes, same mouth. And she had smiled at him like he was an old friend. Their meeting had been a little awkward, with pockets of nervous silence on both sides. But when they said goodbye, they hugged and Duk held his composure until he was back in his room, where he broke down into tears. Not sad tears, but tears of relief, of joy. It was all so much more than anything he could have expected. 

The plane makes its final descent into O’Hare and Duk closes his eyes, uncomfortable still with the way the plane downshifts toward the ground, even though he knows it’s safe. He gets his things together once the plane settles on the tarmac, steering toward the gate. Turns off his AirPods, checks his phone for messages. He smiles at the notifications already popping up on his screen; friend requests on Facebook, new followers on Instagram, new likes on TikTok. Most are family, but he doesn’t recognize several of the new likes on TikTok or followers on Instagram. There’s also a text from his sister that just came through: Why is there a video of you dancing on TikTok????? 

He shrugs it off, blowing up on social media doesn’t mean much since he’s still on cloud nine about his trip and eager to just get the hell off this plane already. He’s tired, almost running on fumes, but he still has a bounce in his step that always seems to be with him. 

Then, once he makes his way through disembarking and through hectic customs, there’s the Barneses. Crowded right up to the metal barrier. They’re there to greet him, his mom waving her hands in the air as if he can’t see her in the crowd. His father is saying something to Michael, who is hoisting a big sign up into the air. Sara is picking at Mike, as usual and Sage is just looking around as though she would almost rather be anywhere else. But their eyes meet and she smiles. And he knows she is glad to see him, too. Duk tilts his head to one side, studying the simplified Hanzi type lettering on Michael’s sign. “You do know that the sign says ‘fried rice here’ right?” He asks the group. He didn’t expect this to be his first words to his family upon his prodigal return, but then again, normal to the Barnes family is always entirely subjective. Immediately, his mom shot a look at Mike, who is covering his face to hold back a burst of roaring laughter. “Michael!” She hisses and the boy finally lets loose peals of laughter. Sarah punches his shoulder and he grimaces as Sage rolls her eyes, turning her attention to her phone instead. It was the best welcome home he could have ever received.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nothing! I love you all!!

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

Hair (fanfic)

Look at me go, two fanfics in two days. It’s almost like I should be studying or something but would rather write sad fanfiction instead of dealing with organic chemistry. 

Anyway, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a text-post from @lesbian-deetz  about blonde Lydia and how she ended up with black hair and a tiktok by @vrronicasawyer-cosplay 

 I took an already sad text post and made it ten times sadder!

Tw: Mourning, death

__________________________________________________________

Everyone always said Lydia had the most beautiful blonde hair. When she was first born everyone was so shocked to see this tiny baby girl with light blonde hair when both her mother and father had dark hair, it wasn’t until they remembered Charles’ red-headed father that it all made sense that Lydia was blonde. From the day she was born, nobody could deny that Lydia was Charles’ daughter. Even as a baby she looked exactly like him from her eye color, the shape of her nose, and her face in general. Emily tried not to be envious, though she did land in a few remarks about how unfair it was that she grew Lydia inside of her for nine months and she looked exactly like her father, who’s job in making the baby ended nine months and fifteen minutes ago. Little did Emily know that even though she looked like Charles, Lydia would undeniably be considered Emily’s little clone. 

As a toddler, she had little curls that killed people when she gave a rosy-cheeked and buck-toothed smile. Her mother would love to braid flowers in Lydia’s hair and pretend they were fairies in the garden. Her father used to gush about how he loved the light, almost white colored hair that contrasted Lydia’s dark brown eyes. As she got older Lydia always just kept her hair long. She liked the way that it blew all crazy when she was running on the playground, and the time spent every morning with her mother helping her fix her hair for the day. She begged her mother to let her get bangs when she was around ten years old, and Emily begrudgingly agreed only because she also had bangs as a child and hoped that letting Lydia get them done once would get it out of her system. Lydia ADORED her new hair cut, and even Emily thought the look suited her. Mostly she was just thrilled her daughter was happy and expressing herself.

Lydia never really thought much about having blonde hair, she just thought it was funny when people would joke about how her family must have brought home the wrong baby because her hair was so light compared to hers. Her father kept his brown hair in a professional style like all the other father’s Lydia saw of her classmates, she teased him for being boring. Emily though, she had shorter hair from as early as Lydia could remember. It was dark brown, nearly black hair that Emily kept cut just above her chin in a messy bob. At nights Emily and Lydia would flip through old photo albums and Emily would groan when photos of her with long hair appeared. 

“My parents always wanted me to keep it long, said it was ‘proper of a young lady’ ” Emily mocked in a stuffy voice, “As soon as I turned sixteen, I went to the hairdresser and told them to chop it off! My mother was less than thrilled when I came home missing ten inches of hair.”

“Would you be mad if I cut my hair like that?” a ten-year-old Lydia asked

Emily shook her head, “Of course I wouldn’t be. You can do whatever you want with your hair. I just like mine this way, I’ve kept it this short ever since I was sixteen years old. I think it’s very me, don’t you?”

Lydia nodded, “I like my hair like this. I think I would keep it that way, besides daddy really loves my hair long.”

“I think you’d look cute with short hair, but if this is how you like it you should keep it that way.”

Lydia thought about it for a second, “Maybe when I’m older...I’ll test out some new looks.”

“Didn’t you just test out these bangs little lady?”

Lydia was twelve years old when Emily first got sick. The doctors seemed hopeful in the beginning, said that her chance of beating it was sixty percent, but as time went on Emily got worse and worse. Emily’s once beautiful black hair was brittle and falling out as a reaction from the medication she was on, by the time the end was drawing near, she had only patches of hair left. Lydia remembered crying when her mom asked to braid her hair one more time,  just hadn’t been able to do her own in so long, and even though Lydia was all grown up now, just once more Emily wanted to it. Slowly and deliberately Emily twisted Lydia’s blonde hair into two strands, and when she was done both women were in tears. Charles, who was silent for the whole thing, remarked how beautiful they both looked. 

A few days later Emily took her last breath. Lydia and Charles at both sides of the bed, holding her hands in theirs. Lydia doesn’t remember much of what happened afterward, it was all a blur to her but it still pains Charles to play over in his mind how Lydia screamed and cried for her mother to come back, that she wasn’t ready to let go, how he had to pry his sobbing daughter away from her dead mother, Lydia’s arms still outstretched reaching for one more hug, one more kiss, one more time of Emily doing her hair. He regretted not letting her, at the time he found it morbid but he often wondered if he had just let her say goodbye on her own terms that she would be coped better. Instead of righting his wrongs, he simply tried to ignore it, and hope that Lydia would come around. 

At home that night Lydia felt so numb, she had already cried so much that she couldn’t even make tears anymore. Her father was so busy preparing arrangements for the funeral and organizing family that he didn’t have time to console his grieving child. She would stand right in front of him, tears running down her face but he would dismiss her, as he scrambled to get everything in order. She never felt so alone, even with all the people constantly parading in and out of her house. Adults simply giving her pitiful looks as they went to talk to Charles about how strong he was and what a good example he was for Lydia. She could hear their whispers to each other, and their glances at the frail and meak little girl sitting on the stairs. She knew they wished she could just give them a polite smile or thank them when they gave their condolences. She couldn’t though, because she knew it was fake. They weren’t sorry for her loss, they were sorry that she hadn’t moved on. She couldn’t tell anybody how she felt, any time she tried they would just turn away. 

Her aunt sat by her in the living room and instead of reading the tone, Lydia was silent and tearful, she picked up a picture frame of Lydia’s family and remarked, “You know, you look just like your father.” 

She lost it, she managed a mousy, “I get that a lot.” before she ran up to her room, slammed the door and cried. 

The night before the funeral Lydia came down the stairs and found her father clutching a framed photograph of Emily in his hands. Lydia stared at the photo. Her mother and father were dancing, something that Charles never did unless Emily coaxed him into it. They were younger, maybe in their twenties. Charles in the photograph had messier hair and was frozen in a laugh as he dipped Emily. Emily’s mouth was in a wide smile and her short black hair was fanned out behind her. Lydia held back a whimper as she snuck out the backdoor and walked down to the drug store a block away. It was a route she was familiar with, growing up in New York Lydia walked a lot of places, but talking to the drug store this time felt strange as if reality felt off. Mindlessly Lydia walked through the aisles, unsure of what she was even looking for until she stumbled into the rows of hair coloring. Cautiously she picked up a box in her hand and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. Without saying a word she dropped the box on the counter, paid for it, and walked back home. 

She went into the kitchen and grabbed a pair of gloves and a pair of scissors. She quietly went into the bathroom and set everything down, careful not to attract the attention of her father. She held a photograph of her mother up to the side of her face as she stared at herself in the mirror. She stayed emotionless as she applied the dye, showered, and dried her hair. Standing back in the mirror she twisted the now dark black hair around her fingers, looking back and forth between the photo of her mother and herself in the mirror. She picked up the scissors and aggressively started cutting, long curls of her hair falling to the floor. Tears were streaming liberally and her face burned a bright red as she sobbed. When she was done it was choppy, uneven, and short. Shorter than she had even had it before. The longest section rested above her chin, but it was exactly what she wanted. When she looked at her reflection she didn't even recognize who she was, but she felt like she was looking at a ghost. 

“Lydia?” Charles called from downstairs, “What’s going on up there, are you alright?”

She gathered up the mess she made and threw it away before walking calmly down the stairs to greet her father. She hesitated on the banister, but there was no going back. She stood in front of her father and just waited for a response.

“What the hell did you do!” He screamed, “Oh my god Lydia, why did you do this? The funeral is tomorrow and you had to do this tonight, do you not think before you do things! Look at it-”

Lydia’s eyes started welling up with tears but she tried to keep herself under control. She knew he would be shocked, but she hadn't expected him to scream at her, not two days after her mother had died. 

“Lydia your hair was beautiful! I loved it, your mother..she loved it! Why did you do this! What the hell have you done, can you please just explain why.”

Lydia couldn’t help herself, the dam broke and she started screaming back at him, she could feel angry and hot tears running down her face, and her chest felt so tight that she was afraid she couldn’t breathe. She wouldn’t give him a straightforward answer, she just yelled at him about everything that she had been feeling, for how everyone had been treating her.

“I’m invisible dad! Nobody sees me, you don’t see me. All you do is look at everyone else, and look at pictures. Well, guess what dad, now you have to look at me! DO YOU SEE ME NOW DAD!”

“I am looking right at you, I haven’t gone anywhere. It has just been a rough couple of days-”

“I am so sick of everyone telling me that. That it’s been rough, and that it’s going to get better. It’s not going to get better, they are liars because they can’t bring her back!”

He sagged his shoulders, “Lydia, I’m sorry you feel that way. I just, I don’t understand why you felt like you had to do this. You cut your hair, you dyed it black. We understand you’re in mourning, but isn’t this taking it too far!”

Lydia’s face contorted and she began to violently shake, she collapsed on the ground and sobs wracked through her tiny frame. She looked up at her father and whimpered, “Do I look like her?”

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[awesomeforever]

It doesn’t actually matter if you’re the exercising type, or even if you’ve never heard of Hampton Liu, the Mountain Home fitness guru with a global and growing following. Once you meet him, you’re going to want to be his friend. The great news here is that he probably wants to be your friend, too. And if, as you spend internet time with your new friend Hampton, you find yourself progressing toward your goal of doing a few full pushups or even a pull-up (!), then that’s a pretty great perk, now, isn’t it? The 28-year-old Liu rolled into the online fitness scene only a couple of years ago, and while he’s picked up TikTok and Instagram followers by the millions, he’s still bashful about the “influencer” label. To be fair, it’s not a perfect fit. Buff but not bulky, relaxed and relatable, Liu is a fitness influencer like Mr. Rogers is a childhood influencer, or Tom Hanks is an actor influencer. “My goal is to help people cultivate long-term fitness and happiness through creating fitness content and building community,” he explains at hybridcalisthenics.com. It’s that endearing combination of expertise and warmth that prompted one YouTube follower to dub Liu “the Bob Ross of working out.” The first thing to know about Liu’s workout program, Hybrid Calisthenics, is that you don’t have to pay for it. Anyone with an internet connection can follow along. “This routine is provided free of charge so that it may help as many people as possible,” the website says. You can buy branded T-shirts or send donations via Patreon, but no pressure. And he’s big on gravity and body weight as strength-building tools, so there’s no pressure to buy any fancy equipment, either. Most of Liu’s workout videos show him exercising on his deck, using the railing or walls as props to correct posture or perfect a backbend. He’s also prone to a parkour approach, seemingly unable to resist turning rock walls and tree limbs into fitness props from which he balances and hangs in gravity-defying ways. The second thing to know is that Liu does not expect you to be able to do any of these gravity-defying stunts, especially not at first. He champions gradual progress, made over the course of a lifetime. Take, for example, his 3-minute YouTube video “You CAN do pushups, my friend!” Starting as all his videos do with his standard greeting, “Hello, my friends! It is your brother Hampton,” the video follows what his fans will recognize as a reliable formula: reassurance that the challenge before us is tough but achievable; a sequence of suggested variations to build up strength over time; and his signature sign-off to “Have a beautiful day.” &nbsp; &nbsp; A post shared by Hampton (@hybrid.calisthenics) Escalating degrees of difficulty keep plain-jane pushups from being either too off-putting for beginners or too boring for the more muscled among us, Liu explained. Start where you are and go from there. “The concept embodies a lifetime of progress.” You should absolutely jump in on this with some wall pushups, then progress to incline and knee versions and then to the real deal if you feel so called. (In fact, why not go do 25 wall pushups right now? Good job!) But it’s Liu himself, more than the nuts and bolts of his content, that draws a crowd. Here’s a sampling of viewer comments: I trust this guy with my life without ever meeting him. This guy is one of the most wholesome and selfless people I’ve ever heard of. I know this means nothing to you, because you don’t know a single thing about me, but I’m 16, you give me comfort. You remind me of my older brother a lot, and he isn’t with me anymore, so your content makes me really happy and at peace. And I really hope something in your life makes you feel the same. He’s like the most wholesome creator on here. I just love his positivity and light. And he takes the occasional negative comment in stride. Liu has been criticized for being too skinny and not muscular enough. Some commenters said he looks like a woman, probably because of his enviably glossy shoulder-length hair.

“It’s never made me upset. We need to accept these things we know to be true. Once we accept them, they no longer can be used against us,” he reasoned. “I do have long hair and slightly round features.” Liu meets viewers’ vulnerability with his own, augmenting fitness content with podcasts and musings usually presented with his signature coffee cup in hand. A recent offering, “In the Event of My Death,” has Liu sharing some pretty deep thoughts on being at peace with his inevitable demise. He has more insight into this topic than most people his age, having recently nursed his mother after a serious stroke and through the final years of her life. She died in 2020. That experience, he said, was “a catalyst of a fundamental personality shift and a revelation about myself.” The revelation: “I wanted to be able to give to other people without any expectation of anything in return. That’s fundamental in both my content and my routine.” No doubt this experience added to the emotional intelligence and empathy that are Liu’s superpower, every bit as much as the surreal upper body strength that allows him to hang perpendicularly from light poles. Not that he’s in a rush to meet death, he said, but there will be some perks when the final moment comes. Specifically, Liu admits part of him will welcome freedom from a repetitive intrusive, irrational fear that he might step on a crawling baby. There he goes again, breaking down a topic that’s dreaded and intimidating into something relatable and a little less terrifying. Liu earned a degree in international business from the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville, and he earned his high energy and full-throttled interest in health from his dad. Both Liu’s parents came to the United States from Taiwan before he was born. Liu’s dad helps run an integrative medical center in Mountain Home, focused on martial arts and traditional Chinese healing. Combining that business degree with his genetic predisposition for promoting wellness and his off-the-charts emotional intelligence makes for an unlikely but winning combination, even when he doesn’t charge a penny. “You can give a tremendous amount of things away for free and still make a living,” Liu explained. “I have a website where I sell fitness equipment. I never push, but I let people know, if you need this, I have it.” That site generates some income, and so do the online ads that appear with his content. Add money from Patreon subscribers and a potential book deal, and Liu is doing OK. There’s no hard sell on the business side of things, just like there’s no hard sell on the fitness side. Liu’s favorite exercise of all, walking, generates zero dollars in revenue for him. But how many pull-ups does one person really need to do? “At some point, the strength pursuit really becomes more of a hobby than a necessity,” Liu admits. He plans to continue pursuing this hobby/livelihood hybrid in Mountain Home. He started offering his routines online around the time COVID-19 hit, fundamentally changing the way the world does business and allowing him to beam out content from anywhere, even Baxter County. Liu was born in Utah but has lived here since he was 2. “I love Arkansas,” he said. “A lot of people are surprised when I tell them I’m from Arkansas.” Commenting FAQs Supporting the Arkansas Times' independent journalism is more vital than ever. Help us deliver the latest daily reporting and analysis on news, politics, culture and food in Arkansas. Founded 1974, the Arkansas Times is a lively, opinionated source for news, politics & culture in Arkansas. Our monthly magazine is free at over 500 locations in Central Arkansas. source

[shespsychedelic]

I don't have anyone else to talk to about this so I hope you don't mind me popping into your inbox. My bf & I just ended our 2 yr relationship for many reasons but one of them being I am an extremely negative person. I pretty much always have been. I kept lying to him & saying I was going to change but I never did. I didn't know how & I've always been scared of change. I've always just assumed this is the way I'm meant to be so what's the point? But I've hurt him. (1/

I was in a unhealthy, mentality abusive relationship for 2 years. I definitely picked up some traits from that guy as much as I hate to admit it. In some ways I BECAME him & I hate it. It makes me so disgusted with myself. I just...I want to change. But I feel like that starts with me forgiving myself but how am I supposed to do that? I feel like I don't deserve forgiveness because I've just been this terrible person to so many people for so long (2/

The last thing my ex said to me was "I can't deal with the numbness that comes with talking to you and how hopeless you are." That felt like an extreme punch to the chest but he has every right to feel that way. I can't get those words out of my head. I'm so tired of being this way, it's exhausting. I don't know how to change, I don't know where to start. I just feel so lost. (3/3) 

I’m answering this under a cut because this got very long lol

I’m going to answer this as point blankly as possible because I feel like that’s what you need. First of all, the most important part is recognizing that you are at fault. It’s tough, and it’s embarrassing, and it makes you feel like utter shit, but luckily you’ve already gotten this step down. One of the most important life lessons I’ve ever learned is that it can be my fault. I can be the cause of other people’s hurt or misery, and that’s not an easy pill to swallow. 

The second thing to do is to actually make the change. I know you said change is hard, but if you want to stop hurting people you have to be hyperaware of that. You have to actively go out of your way and recognize each behavior you do that you picked up on from your previous bad relationship, and how you’ve let that impact you. You won’t change overnight, you may not change completely by the time spring rolls around, but you can definitely start the process and make the small but necessary improvements. 

Third, think of what specific acts you do that your partner said hurt them. Seek those out. I know that when I was a teenager one of my most problematic traits was that I turned every situation/conversation to center around me. That was about 6 years ago that I realized that, and to this day I actively have to check myself and make sure that when I’m talking to my friends/family I make sure if I try to be empathetic to a situation, I need to not turn the conversation to focus on me. It’s a never ending process of self-awareness, but it’s SO important in growing as a person. 

Fourth, yes you need to forgive yourself, but don’t turn it into a gaslighting session, even if you don’t speak to the person again. Yes, you have picked up habits from another person who was shitty to you and treated you like you were less than, but your actions are your own at the end of the day, and how you turned around and treated other people is on you. Take the way you’re feeling and roll with it. If you don’t like this, then please, forgive yourself. Forgive yourself for hurting others, forgive yourself for wasted time, forgive yourself for everything. But work on not making the same mistakes. 

Fifth, you may never see the people you’ve hurt again. This is going to suck the most, and I’m sorry, but it’s true. I’ve had a few relationships (familial/friendship) that I’ve ended cold turkey because the people on the other end acted the same way you did, and I honestly am never going to talk to them again. Does this mean they can’t/haven’t changed? No. In fact, I hope they have success in the rest of their lives and I hope they find people to surround themselves with who will only help them grow, but they can no longer be in my life. I read something somewhere once that said (and I’m paraphrasing) “just because they’re a good person for you, doesn’t mean they’re a good person for me” and I think that’s something you need to remember going forward. 

Sixth, the change is going to be hard. You’re going to have to completely renovate your behavior, and that’s not going to be easy. If it means going to a therapist, then go, if it means physically altering some part of your appearance/life to reflect your changes, then do it. But your goal is to not be the same person you used to be. A LOT of this starts with your outlook. I cannot tell you how much my personality improved when I started forcing myself to be positive. Even about the little things. Make your favorite meal, watch a movie you love, draw an ugly picture and think about how much money it would’ve made in the mid 20th century if you were a manic white man with a nicotine addiction 😂 That one tiktok audio that goes “you need to start romanticizing your life” is cheesy as hell, but holy fuck are they right. You don’t have to have much to start finding the good in what you do have. The more positive you are about the things that impact you, the more positive your interactions with others will be. 

Seventh, remember that you’re a human, and even when you start making the necessary changes, you’re going to fuck up. You’re going to hurt people unintentionally, and you’re going to piss people off. This is okay. However, try not to let these moments upend your personal progress. Don’t let one bad event ruin you.Apologize appropriately, and move forward.  

it’s going to be tough, and it’s going to take a while, but it will be so worth it in the end, and know that I’m always here to chat if you need it xx

[android-for-life]

"Web Creator Spotlight | Abby Mills"

“Where did she find that outfit?!” is something you’ll probably think within minutes of meeting Abby Mills, the blogger behind the vintage fashion and lifestyle blog Clothes & Pizza. The next thing that pops into your head might be “she literally has the coolest tattoos I’ve ever seen.” 

Abby Mills is a style icon, but that’s only part of the picture. She’s also a CEO, photographer, model, copywriter, accountant and salesperson all rolled into one.

Which is really just to say … she’s a web creator. But exactly how does one person do all that stuff and still have time for anything else? Read our interview with Abby to see how she turned a passion for vintage finds and deep-dish delights into a thriving life on the web.

What does your average day look like?

No two days are the same, but they are generally a mix of unglamorous behind-the-scenes work like answering emails, shooting photos, writing for my blog and real-time sharing on Instagram stories and elsewhere throughout the day). Most of the time I am in sweats (especially these days), writing or planning future work. But my content is a pretty authentic reflection of my life, so I show the unglamorous casual stuff too.

Right now, I wear all the hats: I’m the CEO, photographer, copywriter, accountant, head of client services, salesperson, and janitor. Which is great because I don’t have to answer to anyone but myself. But it’s bad when I can’t blame Susan for drinking the last cup of coffee without putting another pot on.

After all the nuts-and-bolts business stuff, how do you get into the flow creatively? 

The more I stay off the internet, the better. I find it hard to focus on my own creative process if I spend too much time looking at what other people are doing. There are so many talented folks out there doing really unique and creative things. And while that can certainly be inspiring, I think it can also lead to a lot of second guessing, or copycatting, if you aren’t careful. 

I don’t approach content creation from a purely *creative* standpoint, I actually think about it more from the standpoint of the function it serves. I.e., what problem does this piece of content solve? How does it answer a question, or alleviate a pain point, or unlock a new idea for my community?

So I usually start with the problem, and then build the content around the best way to answer that problem. For example, if my community is having trouble styling graphic T-shirts, I create a styling video that shows three unique ways to style a graphic tee.

The bag really ties it all together. So, how did you get here?

A few years ago I celebrated a bunch of big life milestones in a span of a few weeks—I turned 30, got married, and started a new job in a new industry. I had wanted to start a blog for years (like a decade). And I figured I might as well tack another big thing onto a series of big things. 

It was important to me to have a blog outside of social media. A place on the internet that I own outright. So I started my website and my Instagram account at the same time. 

I went into this industry pretty naive and inexperienced in the content creation world. It took me a few years to feel like I found my niche, and start to hit my stride. This industry changes really fast. There’s no blueprint for how to be successful, and no one way to “do it right.” Which is awesome because it means there’s room for lots of people and lots of viewpoints. But it’s also challenging 

I have really enjoyed learning how this industry works, at the same time that the industry is coming into itself. We are definitely building the plane while we’re flying it, but it’s a fun ride.

If there was one product or service that could make your life easier, what would it be?

I love the idea of a web-based place to share ephemeral content. Or a place to take ephemeral content (like from Instagram stories) and make it into something else. Or even have the ability to archive it for public access. I can’t tell you how many DMs I’ve gotten that are questions related to expired IG stories!

On that note, what Google products/services do you already use?

All the things. I would not be able to manage my business without the combo of Gmail, Google Calendar, Google Docs/Sheets, and Google Drive. I maintain my content calendar and track my deadlines in Google Calendar. I manage my outreach, contacts and finances in Sheets. And store/deliver my deliverables in Drive. I’ve found Docs to be a great way to collaborate with my clients as they can add edits, comments or approvals directly to my content before it goes live, without a lot of friction.

What’s the best part of your job? What about the worst part?

[The best part is] being my own boss, having my own autonomy to work on whatever I want (try new forms on content, experiment with different creative outlets) and only work with clients/brands who I believe in. I never have to take on a project that I’m not 110 percent stoked on. The worst part is probably turning off, or unplugging. Because my content is an extension of my life, it’s sometimes challenging to draw a hard separation. There are of course many things about my life that I don’t share with my online community—I keep my family and friends private, for the most part. But I genuinely love connecting with my community over all sorts of things. Setting boundaries at any job is difficult, but it’s especially difficult when part of your job is sharing your life and being a resource to people. 

At the end of the day, what is the ultimate goal of your work?

This is so cheesy, but it’s probably helping people. I see my content as helpful to both my community (individuals who follow me) as well as the brands I work with. I tend to seek out new/small/indie brands, and really love sharing them with my community and being a part of growing their customer base. As an entrepreneur, working with other entrepreneurs is really inspiring for me.

I have always had unusual and particular taste—I love finding the best unique things, and discovering new brands who are really changing their respective industries. Sharing these brands with my community feels like a win-win-win to me. 

I’m passionate about mentorship and advocacy in all areas of my life. And my digital presence is an extension of that passion. I really love supporting other creators, helping them recognize the value of their work, and ultimately sharing how they can monetize their business. I really enjoy giving back to the blogging community—and sharing things I wish I had known back when I started. For example, I do donation-based mentorship sessions, where all the money goes to organizations supporting civil rights and social justice initiatives. 

What is something that inspires you every day about the web or in general?

I’m really inspired by all the different formats of technology that people use to connect with creators and communities—it’s pretty endless. Longform video, shortform video, podcasts, blogs, ephemeral content, etc etc. I’m at the point in my content creator “career” where I don’t feel pressure to jump onto every new format (I never did Snapchat or TikTok). I focus on doing a few things well, and not spreading myself too thin.

I also love learning about new brands who are using technology to change the fashion industry. For example, I’ve recently discovered this shoe company called Hilos—they 3D print the soles of each shoe (no gluing or nailing multiple parts together) which ultimately produces less waste and lowers their carbon footprint (pun intended). 

What advice would you give someone just getting started? Or, what would you go back and tell yourself having learned all you’ve learned so far? 

Maybe this is the same answer for both questions, but I think a lot of people go into the creator space without knowing what they’re doing, which makes sense because it’s a relatively new industry, and creative people usually just want to *create*. So they look at all these other people who seem to be super successful and they think “Oh, I have to be like that person. I have to take photos like them, or emulate that kind of style.” I feel like I did that as well, and it took me a while to figure out my unique perspective, and my approach, and my own style of content. So if I could go back, I’d want to just embrace who I am more and my unique point of view, what really makes me me. And I would just go with that right from the start. 

The creator space I work in, the fashion space, is very saturated so the more you can embrace what makes you different the more successful you will be. Just you being you will give you an element of uniqueness (and authenticity) and people will connect to that.

Source : The Official Google Blog via Source information