#ninny figure

[dailyfigures]

Ninny Spangcole ; Burn the Witch ☆ Bandai Namco Arts

[daincrediblegg]

seriously I'm so tired of netflix releasing half seasons and also the 8 episode run becoming the norm. like awwww did the studios not like when the mean scary unions asked for better working terms and better pay for the kind of production level they wanted and now they're hemorrhaging cash even more than usual because they didn't respect their work force enough to listen to them in the first place and now they're shooting their consumer base in the foot by- on top of a million changes that are going to hurt their subscription numbers unequivocally in the long run- short change the consumer for an incomplete product that they have to release in sections because their instant binge release schedule was not sustainable as a business model??? awwwwww pooor babyyyyyy get FUCKED.

[thefigureresource]

ViVignette Ninny Spangcole [Burn the Witch] non scale from Bandai Namco Arts coming October 2023.

[pluttskutt]

@queerlilchinchin here comes the BOY

[ardour-87]

[zae-heeyyy]

Erudition

Summary: Arthur teaches you how to read. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,790 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: I spent an unnecessary amount of time perfecting this one. Tried my hand at sketching/tracing/cut and pasting pieces of Arthur's original journal to make this one (don't look at it too close lol). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: If you didn’t know, it was common for adults to be illiterate in 1899 due to the lack of widespread public education.

erudition: the quality of having or showing great knowledge or learning; scholarship.

Poor Hosea had tried everything in an effort to teach you how to read: encouraging you with kind words first, then employing tough love tactics when your stubbornness hindered your progress. On one particular day, you had enough of each other. In a rare moment of weakness, he slammed his hand on the table when you refused to try.

"Wanna be an illiterate ninny your whole life, do ya?" A scowl etched deep lines on his face, and you stormed off, not saying a word. A cough riddled him, and he bowed his head in part frustration and part regret for letting himself lose his temper with you. He only wanted the best for you, even if you didn't want it for yourself.

A particular contemplative cowboy had been watching a short distance away, a pattern Hosea had noticed lately. Still coughing, he waved him over.

"Ah, Arthur. I know you're smarter than you look. Maybe you can reach that girl. I've done all I can, I fear." He pressed the book into Arthur's hand in more of a silent demand than a request. Arthur nodded in understanding, sighing, wondering how he'd been demoted from gang enforcer to teacher.

Cursing under your breath, you prayed that Arthur would just walk away, not because you didn't like him, but because you liked him too much. You and the other women got a kick out of watching him do chores around camp, his shirt nowhere to be found. He was damn gorgeous and didn't have a clue. Nobody else had a clue, either, that you wanted him. You wanted him in many ways and cared about what he thought of you.

The hope that he'd refuse Hosea's request or come another time fell short when his figure towered over you, shading you from the high noon sun. You kept your head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze until he tapped the book's hardback cover, bidding for your attention. Your eyes met his sheepishly. Reading him did not come easy either, especially in your interactions. Something about the way he carried himself around you left you feeling unsettled. There was a perpetual tension that he seemed to shed in the company of anyone but you. You didn't quite get it, though, because he always remained gentlemanly despite it all.

"C'mon." A sculpted, outstretched arm reached down to you, and you took it reluctantly, letting him lift you up from your spot. Following close behind, you let him lead you to the outskirts of camp near a boulder and a broken wagon. The cacophony of camp faded away as you joined him on the ground, your backs against the rock. You sat expectantly, concentrating on your fidgeting hands and fighting off the urge to cry.

"You just gotta focus," he said, opening the book to where you last left off and putting it back in your hands. Shaking your head, you tried to blink away hot tears building up behind your eyes.

"Don't want you to think less of me, Arthur. Don't wanna do it." Keeping your voice steady and suppressing the lump in your throat proved increasingly futile.

"Hush and focus." His tone only made the mystery of him hazier. How could he so easily switch between evil debt collector, out for blood, to nothing short of a gentle giant, so comforting and protective? The thought only made your vision cloud up more.

Blinking rapidly, you took a deep breath to calm yourself before reading the words on the page aloud. You could only get through the first sentence before your voice betrayed you, shaking unevenly, accompanied by a saline drop rolling down your face and onto the page.

"Hey..." Arthur clutched your chin and turned it to face him, forcing your eyes to heed his. "You gotta stick at things. I know it's hard, but that ain't no reason to cry about it." A rough thumb wiped away your tears. He scooted closer to you, wrapped one arm around your shoulders, and held the book with the other hand. "Just relax. It's just me and you out here. I ain't gonna think less of you or let anybody else, for that matter. Forget about all that." You held one side of the book with your left hand, and he had the other with his right, " Here, start again, slow now."

Goosebumps prickled your skin as a wave of calm washed over you. Arthur stayed patient while you composed yourself and read through twice, the second time outshining the first. He nudged you with his elbow, flashing a toothy grin. "See? Not so bad," he remarked. With another breath, not as shaky as your other ones, you closed the book and returned it to him, feeling more accomplished than you had in a while.

Now that your attention wasn't being spent so much, the pounding in your ears grew louder, the source of the sound leading to none other than the relentless beating of your heart. The musk of tobacco and leather infiltrated your nose, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to him. He removed this arm from your shoulders, the missing weight of it making you feel unexpectedly empty. Before he could scoot away some more, you turned to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Arthur, for helping me. I know I'm not easy to work with." He smiled shyly and dipped his head, avoiding eye contact. A silence fell between you, and you spoke again, dismissing yourself. "I should probably get back to it." You gathered your skirts to stand, and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could walk away. Even though crimson had crept up in his ears and neck, he kept his face impassive as always.

"When Ms. Grimshaw can spare you, come find me, and we'll keep at it."

So you did. You'd meet in the clearing behind the rock on the rare moments of shared free time, continuing the routine, and you were getting better every day. Then, Arthur brought you a mystery book that he'd found or stolen, and it was nothing like a Penny Dreadful, too complex and challenging for you to decode. You felt like you'd taken one step forward and two steps back.

And just like you'd done with Hosea a few days ago, you tried to storm away from Arthur. You didn't get far before his hands were on your hips, dragging you down into his lap. Faces inches apart, his hot breath warmed your face as he spoke, eyes stern.

"You can't just throw a tantrum whenever life gets hard, woman." Huffing in defiance, you opened your mouth to argue, but you closed it promptly, keenly aware of the change in his demeanor. Your eyes were on his, but his were on your lips. He licked his own, face set with resolve. Letting his forehead press against yours, he kissed you. Without a thought, you kissed him back, melting into his arms. Gaze intense, he tore away from you, talking low and firm. "You're gonna sit your pretty self down and do this, alright?"

Your hand went absentmindedly to your lips, drawing them in as you tasted him. Who knew a kiss was all you needed? With a gentle shove, he settled you back on the ground beside him, retrieved the book, and opened it once more.

When you finished, you looked at Arthur, and he was staring back at you with a cocky grin. It was the first time you'd read with no mistakes. You threw yourself back into his arms, climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him. Holding you firm by the waist, Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss you again this time, letting desire he didn't even know he had guide him to you. He could have you like that for hours, and he did, only easing his grip on you when you heard pans banging, alerting you to dinner.

Arthur had discovered the key to motivating you, and since then, you discovered a newfound love for reading. You eagerly awaited your lessons, knowing the handsome outlaw's lips would be there for you when you finished.

Arthur was happy to help, but it wasn't just about the makeout sessions for him. Of course, he could die a happy man with you on top of him, but he loved how your eyes lit up when you made progress. He loved seeing you feel confident. He loved making you happy.

Though he wouldn't dare complain, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that Hosea had knowingly arranged this? Arthur tried to go unnoticed in his subtle observations of you, attempting to conceal the fact that he was sweet on you and had been for a while.

"Can't con a conman, Arthur," his surrogate father once told him. Maybe that wasn't just about robbing. The gunslinger wanted you so bad after all this time, needed you, and hoped you needed him just as much. He'd made himself free today, waiting patiently for you to finish your chores, keeping himself occupied with minor tasks. Just as you finished, you watched him disappear behind the grass and head to your spot.

You joined him; the book rested in his lap while he smoked a cigarette. You took the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself and giggling at your own mischief. He snatched it back from you, pretending to be annoyed but smiling nonetheless. Taking one more puff, he snuffed it in the grass. Before he could make another move, you took the book from his lap, replacing it with yourself. Your hands went to the nape of his neck, drawing his lips into yours. He kissed you back, entertaining you momentarily, but withdrew with his hands still resting on your backside.

"Read first, then I'll take care of ya', sweetheart." His eyes were half-lidded, and his voice lowered a few octaves, both weighed down with desire. You huffed and unmounted the cowboy, opening the book and reading, anything to feel his touch again. As you finished the last paragraph, your attention shifted to his hand kneading circles into your thigh. Breath thickening, his other hand fell to the hem of your dress, making it ride up as his hand traveled slowly up your leg.

The reading grew choppier now, your attention too consumed by his touch. You stopped reading altogether when his hand snaked over your thigh, and three of his fingers pressed against a warm, damp spot in the center of your bloomers. Flushing, a faint gasp escaped you.

"Gonna need to get these off, darlin'," he huffed into your ear. Wasting no time, you tossed the book aside and lifted your hips to slide the garment down around your ankles. Desire almost overpowered him; he wanted to devour you, to have his fingers and face buried between you, but he had a job to do, and he always finished the job.

Stopping, he moved his hand from your heat to your thigh and reached across you to grab the discarded book. Clearing his throat, he thumped the book, "Another page." Incredulous, you blinked a few times, gawking at him.

"Arthur, how do you expect me to focus when—"

He cut you off with a curt whistle and a stony glance, "Shut it, woman, and read." His grip tightened on your thigh. Those pools of blue and stern tone sent another jolt through you; god, if only he knew what he did to you. Like you were hypnotized, you opened the book, still very aware of your aching womanhood. He kissed your neck, his chest vibrating with amusement.

"Good girl," he murmured in your ear.

You were wrapped around his finger figuratively, and you craved to be literally, too. As you began to read aloud again, his hand smoothed over your thigh and landed right where you wanted it. He glided a finger up and down that sacred site, stopping on your clit and rubbing tiny circles there. Involuntarily, you arched up into his hand, and his name fell off your lips in a moan, your focus tearing away from the printed words at your hands. Then he stopped, taking away that sweet attention you loved so much.

"Shhh...Keep going;" his voice was low and deep, and he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. He moved his hand back when you started again; it was the most fluent you'd ever read. You don't know how you managed. As soon as you finished the last word on the page, you tossed the book and grabbed Arthur by the hairs on the back of his head, tugging him towards you and tasting him. He groaned and let a finger slip inside of you.

You gasped at the invasion, raising your hips off the ground and tilting into him. Pressing his lips to your ear, he kissed it and whispered mischievously, "You tryin' to get us caught?" You could feel him smile against your ear, and you pulled him to you once more, letting his mouth muffle your sounds of ecstasy.

He loved the way you felt, so velvety, slick, and tight. He teased you, pumping you with just one finger, then lightly circling your clit just to stop and caress you all over. You knew, and he knew, that he could bring you to that peak at any moment, but he didn't want it to be over just yet. He'd dreamed what you felt like for so long, how you'd respond to him, and now that it was reality, he wanted to savor every minute.

You were rocking your hips now, trying to feel any semblance of friction, trying desperately to reach the climax that Arthur kept you right on the edge of.

Then he sank two more large digits inside, making you press your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. He waited for you to adjust, kissing your ear and talking you through the girthy new additions. His thumb back on your clit caused a shiver to run down you as you relaxed.

"There you go," he mumbled in your ear, and you knew it wouldn't be long then. His thumb never left, keeping a constant speed and pattern as he worked you. Your stomach burned as that sweet, sweet tension built inside of you. Arthur buried his face in your neck, focusing on bringing you bliss. "That's it, sweet girl. Give it to me."

He groaned along with you as your embrace on his fingers tightened, and your body shuddered. He kept his hand there as you came down, relishing in the way your insides squeezed and released him over and over again. His head spun when he removed his fingers from you; you were so wet, all for him. He'd been so focused on you that the bulge in his pants went unnoticed until now.

Meanwhile, you had replaced your bloomers and smoothed out your skirt, trying to reset after the fireworks behind your eyes had exploded. You giggled, seeing Arthur give attention to his own building arousal. You beamed at him, all cheeky and coy.

"I think I hear Ms. Grimashaw looking for me," you teased, standing and dusting your skirt. His face fell bewildered, and you couldn't look at him in fear that your innocent act would falter. "Gonna have to bed me properly if you want more, Mr. Morgan."

With that, you winked at him and walked away, leaving Arthur with just his hand and imagination to satisfy him. You'd decided to join Hosea at a table, taking a piece of discarded newspaper and reading it yourself. He watched, a proud smile growing on his face. It only took Arthur five minutes to calm himself, reappearing from the treeline with eagle eyes that focused only on you.

Crazed, he approached you, placing a heavy hand on the small of your back before removing it hastily, remembering he was out in the open now. Hosea's eyes shifted between you discerningly. He coughed and gestured to the paper in your hand. "Well, Arthur, it seems you're a better teacher than me, after all." Neither of you caught the hint of amusement in his voice. You patted Hosea's shoulder and stood.

"Thanks, old man. I love reading now. In fact, me and Arthur are gonna go to town right now for some more Penny Dreadfuls. We'll bring you another paper, too."

Arthur perked up at this new suggestion and followed after you, practically tripping over himself as you headed towards his hitched horse. Hosea returned to his newspaper, kicking his feet up and chuckling to himself knowingly. His hunch had been right about you two, after all.

[roach-works]

So since someone was being a ninny in your asks, I figured this was as good a time as any to say that I've drifted on and off tumblr for 10+ years now, and every time I come back and see you're still here it makes me happy. Here's hoping something unexpectedly nice happens to you this weekend.

i am the devil's hole pupfish of tumblr. when i am finally gone from this place you will know that it was only because extreme corporate bullshittery finally succeeded in draining the tiny, toxic blue hole in the ground that has shaped my entire life.

[allophonicmess]

Past's Lilac Haze

Chapter 1

Masterlist

You only wanted to help you niece with her theatre project. And it got you and your Timelord husband involved in an alien attack on one of London's most famous theatres.

So much for his retirement plans.

14th Doctor x Timelord!Wife! Reader

"Most radiant Pyramus, most lily-white of hue,

Of colour like the red rose on triumphant brier,

Most brisky juvenal and eke most lovely Jew,

As true as truest horse, that yet would never tire.

I'll meet thee, Pyramus, at Ninny's tomb."

You read with your best olden accent and high-pitched tone, imitating a squeaky girl's voice as the play asks you to. No reaction. You looked up from your script, expecting Rose to, in turn, answer with her line.

"Ninny's tomb." You repeated, nodding expectantly towards the crumpled printout in her hands. It was covered in annotations and highlighting, making it somewhat hard to read the actual text.

"You have to correct me now. Because I said Ninny's tomb." You explained, moving onto your knees to lean over and point her to the correct line. But she just stared at the text, trying to figure out what to do.

"Uh, but why do I need to correct you?" She suddenly started flipping through the pages, trying to find some context that seemed to be missing. She sighed, shaking her head in frustration.

"You need to correct me. Flute says it wrong. It needs to be Ninus tomb." You explained, showing her your own less annotated but aged copy. 

"But you just said that! Ninus tomb-"She felt irritated. It was a mistake to even enter the theatre club. She wasn't made for the stage, as learning text was way too hard. And she knew her acting wasn't much better; her mum noticed it too, cringing during the open rehearsals but always pretending to love it.

"No, that's the joke. Flute says Ninny's tomb so that Quince can correct him- "You stopped, setting down your text." We'll take a break. I can see that you are losing concentration." 

You got up, placing your booklet on the wooden coffee table that sat in front of the red satin two-seater. Rose had asked you to help her with her theatre role, much to the dismay of the Doctor (who bragged that he once was a Shakespearean actor, but Rose didn't care too much). So you offered her the chance to choose your study environment from any place she could think of. But instead of using the room emulator, she decided the Tardis library, which now came in a gorgeous dark wood and deep red satin theme, was the perfect environment. And you had to agree; It was a great choice.

"I'm going to get us some drinks, and then we can continue. You want tea or hot chocolate?" you asked, gently rubbing her shoulder. You loved your new role as her magic alien auntie, or so she coined the term. 

"Go back to your texts? I thought you two were done." The Doctor called as he entered the room. He had taken the day to set some things with Unit. They called in multiple crisis meetings to ensure that another incident like the Toymaker would not be possible. He hated the politics of it. So boring. But he saw the action plan as a positive initiative to prevent further harm to Earth or its citizens, so it was worth the effort. 

He confidently walked over to you, catching you by the waist to pull you into a hug. He hugged a lot. It was as if his body felt the need to compensate for the hug-free dry stretch during number 12. Not that you minded; his clinginess was somewhat cute.

"There is no need to get back to the text. I'll just text my theatre teacher and tell her I quit." Rose sighed, dropping her script next to your booklet on the table and sinking into her seat.

"No, you can't!" The Doctor whined, but he quickly whispered into your ear. "She that bad?" He cringed, hoping that Donna had been exaggerating. 

You rolled your eyes, thinking of a good answer. "Not bad, just… slow of study." You laughed softly at your own joke. But you quickly regretted it when you saw that twinkle in the Doctor's eyes. He had caught on. Oh no.

"Slow of study, you say?" He spoke with a booming theatre voice. 

"Oh no, please." You shook your head at him, hoping to make him stop. But it wasn't any good as, with starting his fourteenth life cycle, he had reached his Dad-joke era.

"Please don't" You pleaded softly.

"Have you the lion's part written?" He continued, moving away from you to kneel down at the side of the sofa. He was going all in, hiding behind the sofa's armrest only to slowly come up behind it. He looked at Rose with a playful expression, which shifted into a mix of shyness and embarrassment. The young woman tried to look away, to keep the frown on her face. But she couldn't fight the smile that spread over her face caused by the Doctor's shenanigans.

"Pray you, if it be, give it me, for I am slow of study" he asked in a pinched voice. He stayed low, looking between Rose and the texts on the table.

A moment of silence as the Doctor stayed true to his role, and Rose's attitude began to crumble. You watched with a smile on your face. You believed him about having been a Shakespearean actor. He had talent.

"You may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring," Rose answered in a small voice. She crossed her arms, trying to appear uninterested as the Doctor began to cheer.

 "Ha! See, you do know the text!" He laughed, quickly getting up and moving around the sofa to stand behind it. He laughed, shaking Rose by her scrunched-up shoulders. She tried very hard to keep quiet but stood no chance against the Doctor's infectious laughter.

"You will give the best Peter Quince performance there ever was. I just know it!" He turned, looking at your reaction. But you simply stood in the doorway, grinning softly at him. 

You loved to see him at ease in his new life; just see him be happy. 

He loved to make you happy; be the cause of that radiant smile. 

"Okay, then. You help her study since you seem to know the text by heart." You crossed your arms in a challenging manner. 

"I'll go get some drinks." You turned into the hallway to get to the kitchen, but Rose stopped you, calling your name.

"It would be really helpful to go and see a performance, no? For uhh... Artistic inspiration." She suggested but continued before you had the chance to comment. "And I don't mean the recordings. They are nice, sure, but-" 

"It's not the same as live theatre." The Doctor continued, nodding in agreement. He had settled down on the other seat next to his niece, casually leaning back, arms crossed over his chest and nodding slowly. 

"Exactly!" Rose swiftly turned around in her seat, looking at you with expectation. She knew that she didn't need to persuade the Doctor. He was ready and excited for any type of trip despite his retirement. You were the one she needed to convince.

"No." You stated simply. "We can go to the theatre like regular people. You know, take the bus, pay for tickets and so on. But we are not travelling." You shook your head. The term holds a much more significant meaning to the three of you than to the ordinary person. But Rose was all too aware that she had the two of you wrapped around her finger.

"Oh, c'mon! We don't have to travel far. It was on at the Globe this summer. What's a few months, eh?" The Doctor argued, his legs now kicked up onto the table.

You huffed a laugh. "Just a few months? Funny coming from the man that is still having difficulties with precision landing." 

"Oh, no, not this again." He sighed, "I land where I need to go; the Tardis works in mysterious ways. It knows when I need to be off by a few days… or years…" 

Right. You felt no need to comment on what could only be a joke. 

"Besides, I spent the last years always on the go. Been able to practice a lot, you know? I mean, compared to you-"

 "We don't talk about that now." You warned him gently yet firmly. 

He turned around to face you, genuinely sorry about bringing the topic up. 

"Talk about what?" Rose picked up on the tense situation. This was precisely what you tried to avoid. 

"I'll explain it to you eventually, but not now. It's a bit touchy." You told her, hopefully stopping her from asking any further. And she understood, nodding with empathy and then turning back to her text, thinking that any talk about travelling was over.

 For a moment, the library got very quiet. Only the soft cracking of wood and the rustlings of paper could be heard.

You were going to be strict, just once. Only this one time.

…

…

…

To hell with it.

You sighed deeply: "I love the Globe, I really do. But this year's version wasn't any good." 

Your comment made Rose set down her notes and turn in your direction slowly. She was about to activate her puppy-dog look, but you already gave in.

"1598-"You couldn't finish your sentence in time as she had already gotten up to wrap you up in a big hug.

 "But! My rules." You hugged her with a soft smile. The Doctor watched you two with amusement.

"We go there, we watch the play, and we leave. No prancing around and no adventuring." 

Rose let go of you, nodding very quickly and waiting for further instructions. You huffed a laugh at her giddy expression, nodding towards the hallway to notion her to get to the console room.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She called, running towards the console room. 

The Doctor also got up, watching after and chucking softly at her. "She is making you go soft." He noted, pushing up the sleeves of his dress shirt. "Soon she will be unstoppable, spoilt rotten and hijacking the Tardis", He joked, moving in slow, languid steps towards you. You were still leaning against the wall by the door.

"Nah, not on my watch." You pushed yourself off the wall to exit the room. But the Doctor quickly caught your wrist, holding it gently. He looked at you apologetically.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up. That wasn't appropriate nor funny." He looked at you sadly, trying to let you feel his honesty. You nodded, turning your hand in his hold to his hand. 

"It's okay. She'll have to know eventually. Keeping a tragic backstory hidden from that one? You wish." You joked, squeezing the Doctor's hand and leading him outside. He quickly moved to kiss your temple. It made you pause, taking him in momentarily and appreciating how your story had turned out.

"But- "You spoke into the moment of silence.

 He huffed a laugh: "But?... You fly?" 

You grinned, keeping yourself steady on his shoulders as you reached up to peck a kiss on his lips.

"You know it, Darling."

[thefruitbros]

BULLET TRAIN CUBE THINGS !!!!

I was just sobbing from the lack of Bullet Train cube figures on the internet so I decided to make my own (inspired by those hako templates online??)

These are free to use - as long as you credit us if posting online :) If you don't credit I will send Ninny to throw eggs in front of your window

(PS: If any of you do use these, I would love to see the results!)

[bonny-kookoo]

can we see a small blurb/drabble of y/n from rampage trying to converse with yoongi? Please ninny? PUPPY EYES INTENSIFIES pleeeeeeeaseeeeee :((

'Jungkook said you have work for me.' Is written on the note you hold towards the dog hybrid, small black booklet your new form of communication it seems like.

Yoongi sighs. "That fucker.." He mumbles, before he thinks, looks around. There's honestly nothing you can really do to help. "Well, what are you good at?" He asks you instead, and you move the book towards yourself to write something down, before you turn it towards him again.

'I've been told I'd make a very good sexual partner.' you've written, and Yoongi immediately turns your booklet towards you again to not look at the sentence, cringing angrily to himself.

"Absolutely not." He denies. "What was your job.. where you came from?" He instead asks, not even wanting to think about what you could've potentially been used for if this is what you think of first when asked about your capabilities.

You write, shoulders slumping down.

'nothing.' you write, confusing Yoongi.

"Nothing? Like..?" He wonders, and you seem to write a little longer now to explain yourself.

'I was meant to be quiet in the basement cell.' you've written down. 'I'm good at waiting.'

Yoongi sighs yet again, looking at you for a good moment. So much has changed and yet everything has seemingly stayed just as cruel as it's always been. Or maybe it became even worse for you, down the line.

You don't deserve this. You never have.

"Let's try.. cooking. Do you know how to cook?" He asks, and you shake your head, making him hiss internally- because you used to know how to cook, before whatever the hell went down with you. You used to be so talented in a lot of things- and now, all of it's been taken from you.

Yoongi panics a little when he can see your eyes begin to tear up, one drop quietly falling down your cheek. "It's alrigh- hey, you can learn? It's fine, we can find something else." The dog hybrid tries to comfort, squatting down to look up at your turned down face. "Okay?" He asks, holding onto your hands, and you shrug.

You don't know what anybody wants from here. If you're useless, why keep you?

You're seemingly breaking in this moment, and Yoongi doesn't know what to do about it. Because you can't talk, you can't tell him what's wrong in this moment- so he can only do what he thinks could maybe help.

Holding you close, trying to physically keep your pieces together in the empty kitchen. "We'll figure something out." He mumbles towards you, moving away from you for a second to pick up your little notebook and pen to give it back into your hands, before he watches you wipe your cheeks, trying to compose yourself again.

When he gets an idea.

"You know what?" He suddenly says, as your head turns up to look at him, ears turned towards him. "I think I know exactly what you can do."

[browniefox]

I asked for fic recs so it only makes sense that I provide some.

The Invisible Stan by The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Simple, short, but elegant. You know how hanahaki disease is a trope? I feel like this should be a trope, but idk what you'd call it - Ninny disease sounds bad, but like it's clearly based off of Ninny from the Moomins. Anyway, great fic <3

An Outreached Hand by WDW

Ghost trick au! Love a good ghost trick au! I reread this recently and it still holds up so well, still so good even if unfinished. Haven't played ghost trick since, some of the twists make a hair more sense - especially the twist in the last chapter posted and being like 'OH IT'S *THE* GHOST TRICK'. Shoutout to undead creepiness and cute kitties :3

Retrograde by scrawling_stardumb

Kissing this one on the mouth. Only one chapter and unfinished, but it's a long chapter and really makes you go 'whoa'. It's interesting because the summary *technically* gives you more info than the chapter itself, but it's that kind of dramatic irony that fits the writing so well. A good solid McGucket POV too, which there really isn't enough of. Tbh, it stands okay almost as a one shot? I wish this became a whole popular au like all the others, bc it kicks ass as a concept.

Finding the Right Frequency by impish_nature

A pretty cute one! Ford trying to figure out how to deal with Bill, and Stan having found a stable job, and someow their two worlds intersect. Cute moments between the two, and some good Stans getting to reconnect.

Things You Can't Take Back by thesnadger

Classic by the Snadger! I always appreciate people who take Stan's memory less and make it more complicated, or at least have there be aftershocks to have your whole life erased :D So well written.

like they were a perfect fit by hapful

Stanford Pines and the photo he never looses. A beautiful story about Ford throughout the ages and his opnions on family, specifically Stan.

putting the dog to sleep by parsnipit

Old Yeller is such a sad story, and also some of this made me think of Mice and Men, and ugh just Stan and Ford and beign willing to kill something you love - sometimes because you love it - and it's such a perfect analogy to them I could die.

none of those phds is an md, you dumb idiot by untrustworthyglitch

I always love a fic that acknowledges language barriers. It reminds me of a really old fic where I did something similar, but like, being away from Earth would lead to you forgetting a lot of things, including language.

Too Late, Too Soon, Not Enough by IncomingAlbatross

Ah, gotta love a good fic that shows the missing scene of Ford and Stan switching places. Who came up with the idea? Who needed to be convinced? What swears do they get to use while off camera? Stan I love you so much, and Ford I lov eyou for beig nso complicated.

Raising Stakes by MaryPSue

Mwah! A Classic if I've ever seen one! While I'm partial to werewolf!Stan, Vampire!Stan does have so much potential and MaryPSue puts it to use so well! A great look into what Gravity Falls was like back in taht time period, and I love when people utilize Susan in fics that take place pre-portal <3 Also, Carla! I miss you so much Carla <3 It's drama, it's action, it's everything!

Lost and Found by PengyChan

Tate & Fiddleford have a lot of untapped potential, and while I think going the angst route makes a lot of sense, this one is almost more fluff and catharsis, I guess? I love it, near and dear to me.

Off-Season by anistarrose

Time Travel fic, but not a timestuck au? More likely than you think! A cute oneshot with particular focus on Stan, Mabel, and Dipper. Just a fluffy little thing with a couple strangers helping Stan out through a difficult winter.

Persist and Dwell by fencesit

A bit of Soos's trust in Grunkle Stan, and a mystery that isn't so much mystery as it is simply just not explicitly said. One of the final scenes has still stuck with me, and this is defo a concept I'd love to see explored more.

flee from your ghosts (burn your house down) by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

While typically OTGW x Gravity Falls crossovers are, like, Pinescone, I'm partial to this version where Wirt is their dad. There'a few details that didn' sit well with me, but over all so incredible and well written. Some of the metaphors are just so evocative I could eat them. The descriptions are to die for. And I love the depiction of a dad struggling to get his kids to open up to him that feels like it's part dads struggle with teens and part those pines twins just won't tell the truth.

If you have any Gravity Falls fic recs, feel free to comment them!

[haleyboook]

Sexiest man alive’s photographer wife pt.l

Chris Evans is to be named People’s 2022 sexiest man alive, what he and his wife don’t know is that his photographer for the magazine is his very own wife. Who better to give the smoldering sexy look to than his wife?

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“Yes I am still scrambling around London trying to make it back in time for Miles birthday party. The models I’m dealing with here believe I’m a complete ninny. If only they knew the real stars I’ve photographed. Tell me why I agreed to this shoot again?”

He smiles on the other end of the video chat saying “It was something new. You wanted to broaden your portfolio.”

I grumble saying “Biggest mistake ever. Never let me make another like this okay?”

He chuckles saying “I think you’ve spent too much time in Europe, you’re beginning to speak like them. Ninny? What does that even mean?”

I stifle a laugh saying “Gah.. I’m so sorry. I should be home. With you and Dodger. Not here.”

“Hey, we understand. You’re killing it there and we’re couch potatoes while you’re gone. After shooting I’m exhausted.”

I nod saying “How’s the shooting for the red one going?”

“Good. I love Dwayne. I know I said I didn’t know if he’d be weird but he’s so funny and so nice. You’d love him. You need to meet him soon.”

“I’ll be home soon. And I won’t leave again, for as long as humanly possible.”

He nods saying “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had.”

I shake my head saying “You look tired. I am screwing up your sleep routine calling you this late. I hate this stupid time difference.”

He shakes his head saying “I can’t and will not go to sleep until we have our nightly calls. You know that.”

I frown and say “Sometimes I hate my job.”

“But, you love it. You know that.”

I shrug as I feel tears produce, “it’s just so difficult being away from you for so long. I don’t know anyone here. My assistants are French and talk terribly about me to each other. And the models think I’m a servant to them. I miss America. I miss you. I miss home.”

His eyes widen and he says “It’ll be done in no time. We’ll be here, waiting. Just do what you’ve gotta do. I can send Scott over if you’d like. He begs to go to Europe all the time.”

I smile as I wipe my tears saying “If he’s my best bet, yeah. But he’s not my first choice in Evans’ visiting me.”

He nods saying “I know how much you love my mom but I think she’s pretty busy in Boston, even though…”

I laugh through the tears at his efforts to make me feel better, my assistant quickly calls for me as I look to the laptop

“Miss Klava is requesting you to do… your job. No offense.”

I sigh as I look to her saying “Klava was supposed to be on set of the shoot an hour ago. She doesn’t run the show here. Get her in makeup and make her look like she cares to be here. I’ll be there soon enough.”

Quickly she leaves as I groan and Chris mellows as I shake my head saying “They can never not interrupt our alone time, can they?”

He shrugs saying “Big shoot day. I know you need to get out there now.”

I look down to my watch saying “No. No, tell me more about what’s going on with you.”

“I got a call from People magazine actually..”

Klava pushes her way into my room, shouting in a language I don’t understand, pointing towards my laptop and huffing and puffing.

Making a whole tantrum in front of me

I shake my head saying “You should be in hair and makeup! You’re so lucky I don’t find literally any other model to replace you!”

She shakes her head saying “I told you I model best. But you waste time with this! This ridiculous device.”

I look to my laptop screen, seeing Chris’ flushed expression. I glare at Klava saying “You can’t barge into my private office-”

My assistant says “She refuses to go into makeup, she claims she looks perfect as is.”

I sigh saying “Get Rachel, send Klava to Wes while I figure out how yo handle this.”

I look to my laptop saying “I’m sorry, Chris. I will call you later. Alright?”

He nods and says “I love you. Good luck with Klava.”

I smile to him quickly, saying “I love you too. Good luck with shooting.”

“You too.”

The call ends and I spend the rest of the day scrambling around, attempting to position and direct models that are nearly more than a foot taller me in heels to do as I request

I didn’t get around to calling Chris again, but I had enough time to check my email before I ultimately let my head hit my pillow and pass out

A rep from people magazine have reached out, asking for a call to speak about a job offer

I set plans and fall asleep with my phone unplugged and with a low battery

Chris messages me as I sleep, giving me updates throughout his day

Only going through to my dead phone

The sun shines in my face and I abruptly sit up, scrambling to read the time “please don’t be late..”

I look to the clock on the microwave, groaning as I rush out of the room.

Another painful day of dealing with models begins as I plug my phone in, missing my daily call with Chris

Missing the email telling me I would receive a call from People magazine’s Zoe.

Rachel pushes my ringing phone to my ear as it answers “Honey, I know I missed our usual call but-”

“Oh? Sorry, do I have the wrong number?”

I set my camera down, grabbing my phone confused saying “Sorry.. thought you were my husband. My assistant didn’t tell me it was a business call. Who is this?”

“Zoe from People.”

“Oh! Hi, sorry. I’ve been swamped here in London. What can I help you with?”

She cheerily says “As you probably know, People announces the sexiest man alive yearly with a large photo shoot and article. And we need a photographer for this years 2022 sexiest man alive. I’ve been following your work for awhile and wow… you’re work is stunning. My employers and I would like to offer you the job.”

My eyes widen and I say “Who would I be working with? Who won?”

Zoe pauses and says “2022’s sexiest man alive..”

I smile and say “Ah.. so confidential for now. When will the photo shoot take place?”

“Soon, as soon as you have an opening actually.”

Debating taking on more work I say “Who’s in the running for the job besides me?”

Zoe pauses saying “We were hoping it’d be you. We have a few people we’ve used in the past but my boss really enjoyed your photos from the Met gala earlier this year. You took some phenomenal photos.”

I pause and say “I don’t finish this job for another few weeks and I- I need to speak to my husband first before I accept another job.”

“We’d be willing to be flexible with times. And we know the model would be too.”

Looking to the models in front of me I say “Can we shoot in Boston?”

Zoe happily says “Yes, wherever you choose to photograph!”

I nod saying “Alright, I’m in. I just need to reassure my husband. I can just do the editing from this job from home. I’m almost wrapped up here. I will send you some dates that work for me, you pick one and let’s set some solid plans okay?”

“Perfect, I’ll expect your email. Thank you!”

I wrap up the call, dropping my phone and saying “Alright, this is the last day of shooting and none of you will have to hear my harping voice again. Just cooperate with me.”

Sending my unedited shots to my higher ups at the magazine I request finishing the final product in the states

With some convincing it’s approved and I call Chris on my taxi ride to dinner

“Didn’t think you’d get some time away to call me.”

I huff a breath in response saying “Yeah. I didn’t either. From the looks of your texts it sounds like you’re enjoying filming on red one.”

“I’m actually about to go meet someone for breakfast. Would you mind if you just texted me what’s up?”

I pause and mask my voice saying “Yeah of course! I’ll talk to you later.”

I hear a couple different voices in the background, one being Scott shouting “tell her I’m booking my flight immediately!”

I smile and Chris ends the call with a hushed goodbye. I sigh and the taxi driver says “Where to?”

“The airport please.”

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next>>

Also make sure to like, comment, and re-blog please!

comment to be added to taglist!! ♥️

[desire-mona]

heard we were making house ocs and ive had a dingus floating around in my head since january so i FINALLY got around to actually making a proper ref sheet. i present my silliest

Dr. Nanette "Ninny" Amesbury :3

more under cut !

big warning lore n backstory n stuff is very bare bones and not all the way there cuz im #lazy

birthday is vague but lets go with ~35 circa s2

if i had a nickel for every oc i had who had absent parents and was raised catholic by their grandparents, id have two nickels. unintentional that it happened twice i sorta forgor the other one's lore for a bit and now its stuck so ummmmm sorry laney. wont be going into childhood bc i havent come up w that yet and honestly i dont care to!!! yada yada yada catholic guilt but not in the chase way bc she hasnt left the church n likely never will

ummmm relationship chart + template

lets just quick go over some relationship highlights cuz some are def more important than others

wilson: mr president a 4th ex wife has hit the james wilson. when were they married? ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 😁

but they were married for like. 3 years? YES it ended bc he cheated but nin also wasn't the best either her ass was literally never ever there she was ALWAYS at work (like more than normal doctor amounts of at work - only came home to sleep and even that was only 4x a week(also worked at a different hospital))

tw suicide for next part bee tee dub

a big part of the beginning of their relationship was (big surprise) wilson's attraction to what he THOUGHT was neediness but was literally just nin wanting (and trying) to kill herself lol. once the magic of all that went away (perceived independence thats rly just #bottling shit up) he was just kinda like oh :/ its not cool to have a mentally ill wife anymore :/ i was expecting ramona flowers :/ or whatever. so infidelity impact font, hijinks and moving away for [amount] years ensue before nin being hired at ppth as the head of pediatrics. brief fwb situation w wilson Again b4 she finds out shes a lesbian at the end of like. s2.

oh yeah she also tries to kill herself again once she figures it out (see catholic guilt mention) but its cool she lives

cuddy: GAAAAAYYYYY GAAAAYYYYYYY GAY!!!!! DR AMESBURY WANTS TO FUCK THIS WOMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its one sided tho boooooo cuddys briefly like Wait ? just b4 nin moves away at the end of s6 roughly but shes already. thats done its not happening.

kutner: dont even fucking talk to me. i dont wanna talk about it. im gonna talk about it.

so kutner (like the slut that he is lowkey but society isnt ready for that) asks nin out just after he gets hired and shes like ermmmmmmmmmm! but sensing his loser aura she (still deeply closeted) is like hey haha i dont swing that way sorry !!!!!!! but its ok they become super mega best friends and get nerdy together

i like to think they listen to weird al together OH YEAH NINS THE BIGGEST WEIRD AL YANKOVIC FAN IN NEW JERSEY

and then nothing bad happens!

if youve seen this post about the little writing things kutner got after he croaked then hooray here's nanettes

they make me so fucking upset.

anyway as i stated above nin moves away after s6 for a bunch of reasons. 1) thanks obama 2) a big part of what contributed to her suicidal ideations n such was the fact that deep down she didnt ACTUALLY know what she wanted to do w her life. u may be like she doesnt. want to be a doctor ? NO she doesnt thats just what she did to get money to eventually do what she wants. whatever that is. something something feeling lost in life and unable to reach a goal when u dont even know what the goal is something something. also persistent depressive disorder but like spoon in kitchen.

idk what shes gonna end up doing after she moves but id imagine she shows up for house's funeral so i cant just be like lol nobody gets to know! im thinking painter but idk IDK guys her lore is ROUGH

thats it if u have questions ill answer thanks

[pluttskutt]

Your idea of drawing stick figures is hilarious, and since you asked for mundane descriptions only:

Tall, broad and greying bloke. Likes knives. Always looks pissed off

I present: Grumpy Knife Bloke

[ardour-87]

[jamesunderwater]

Jily Microfic - Opponent

@jilymicrofics - feb 27th, prompt: opponent - words: 911 Summary: Lily might have a heart murmur, might have a crush, it's hard to tell, but she's definitely a feminist, and in case you were wondering, she doesn't care at all if another girl shows interest in James Potter. read the rest in this lil academic rivals to lovers series on my AO3, here! (and stay tuned as this is part 1 of 3 for a little end-of-the-month academic rivals finale ;D) Read Part 2 here & Part 3 here!

Lily Evans is a feminist – she’s obviously a feminist. She’s not about to treat another woman like an opponent just because the girl's got a crush on a boy Lily only mildly, maybe, a little bit – she isn’t even really sure she – likes. Especially not if that boy is James Potter. 

(Again, she isn’t sure – it could just be a heart murmur, she’s looking into it.)

So Tamara Campbell told her friend Maritza Acebo who told Mary Macdonald that Tamara thinks James Potter is cute – so what? When Mary asked James what he thinks of Tamara, he only said, “She’s cute, yeah,” and that’s not exactly I’m going to ask her out this instant sort of language. And so what if he does ask her out? The only reason Lily has to care is if some ninny gets James Potter distracted from his studies, leaving Lily without a challenge.

Sorry, not ninny – she’s a feminist. Some girl. Some lovely, “sure, she’s cute” girl, who is probably of at least average intelligence but – it’s only a fact, nothing subjective about it – surely is no intellectual equal to James Potter, and probably only likes him because she thinks he’s some gorgeous quidditch star with sexy hair and a great smile. And, you know, it isn’t Lily’s fault that Tamara’s high-pitched laugh sounds like the laugh of a ninny. Maybe she shouldn’t squeal so loud the entire corridor hears her just because Potter told one stupid joke…

—

“Happy anniversary,” James says, a proud grin on his face. He’s standing in front of Lily’s desk in their office, bouncing on his heels. He’s sure this is an idiotic idea, but since Lily already thinks he’s a fool, James figures there’s no harm in trying his luck. And whether she smiles or just smirks and rolls her eyes, either expression will be better than the perpetual frown she’s worn the last week.

When Lily lifts an eyebrow, he brandishes a plate from behind his back, placing it before her.

“What’s this?” she asks him, her tone flatter than he’d imagined it would be.

“Lemon tart,” James answers, his smile wavering a bit. “It’s your favorite…isn’t it?”

She stares at the plate for what feels like a century, and James can’t make any sense of what’s happening behind her blank expression. Finally, she says, “Yeah, I like it fine,” her voice lifting forcefully. 

James wishes he were being buried alive, or burned at a stake, or plummeting from three hundred feet in the air – anything besides standing here in this moment.

“Oh,” he manages through desert-dry lips. Clearing his throat, James attempts a recovery, his entire face on fire. “Well, I just thought – it’s been two whole months of being Head students together…” This explanation is going terribly. Is there a spell for turning the floor to quicksand? Can it be done non-verbally? “And we haven’t killed each other yet, so…” He forces a chuckle. “Thought we might celebrate.”

Lily looks at him then, finally, and the green of her eyes is wrong somehow. Too bright and too dull all at once. “Yeah,” she says, her lips down-turned. “Quite a feat.”

His heart squeezes in fear and warning bells chime loudly in his ears, but he asks anyway, “Are you alright?”

She clears her throat, and suddenly she’s standing and gathering her books into her arms. “I’m fine. Thanks for the dessert.” 

She disappears in a blur of red, the lemon tart still on her desk.

—

It’s her own fault, really. She should have just said she liked the damn lemon tart. Why didn’t she tell him she liked the lemon tart? Lily stares across the Gryffindor table, where a few seats down James is watching Tamara Campbell giggle at a decibel only pixies could match.

This is the third day in a row she’s had lunch at their table, her blue tie sticking out amongst the rows of red. There’s absolutely a rule about students of other houses switching tables, Lily’s sure of it – and if there isn’t, there really should be. This is…this is fraternizing with the enemy, if you really think about it, given they’ve got a match against Ravenclaw in two weeks. 

Lily grumbles in irritation. Two years ago she’d never have been able to say the quidditch schedule if asked. She’s been utterly compromised. Her Charms essay due tomorrow is only half-written; this morning, her potion was only the third best in class, and she hadn’t even cared about the disapproving look on Slughorn’s face.

Another giggling shriek reaches its crescendo, and she’s simply had enough. Leaving her plate hardly touched, Lily gets up from the table and heads for the door.

“Hey, Evans, hold on a moment–” 

She barely muffles a groan at the sound of his voice, quickening her pace as she passes him. 

James, with his spider-long legs, is beside her in an instant. “D’you mind trading patrols with me on Friday?” he asks, speaking to her like she’s a child on the verge of a tantrum, as he’s done ever since the lemon tart incident.  “I’ve…got a…” He trails off, suddenly looking incredibly sheepish. 

“Fine,” Lily cuts him off quickly to avoid hearing his bumbling explanation. Her anatomy’s gone all wrong; her lungs are in her throat, her heart is in her stomach, her brain's disintegrating altogether… 

She leaves in a rush, eyes burning, unable to tell who she thinks is more stupid: James Potter, or herself.

To be continued...