#perhaps i need to be the change i want to see in the works and make it myself lmao

[dystopianam]

[DOWNLOAD] COLORED CEILING LIGHTS (16 COLORS - 5 DIFFERENT INTENSITIES + INVISIBLE RECOLORS)

Finally here are the colored lights! I've always loved NL neons, but I've always hated that they were huge and impossible to put in residential lots unless you want to make your home look like a fantasy, alien or futuristic house.

I specify that those who use lighting mod see the intensities from 4 to 5 very bright (like me in the video), but those who do not use lighting mod see the intensities from 4 to 5 as in the video the intensities from 1 to 3 are shown! Intensities 4 to 5 are for those who don't have lighting mods!

EXPLANATIONS AND CREDITS

(Skip it if you want, but it's full of credit for other persons)

For years I looked for invisible recolors of NL neons, or someone who had changed the mesh of these, but I never found anything.

I remember that, perhaps, I had once found an invisible recolor of the round neon lights that you can place on the wall, but honestly that recolor never worked for me ;_:

So I gave up, I lost hope of having some comfortable neon lights that I could put in my house and I went on with my life, until...one day I don't remember what I was doing in game, I took a cc lamp I had and saw that it had a beautiful colored light. I told @jacky93sims "this light is beautiful, but the mesh is huge and impossible to use".

At first, since I just wanted to do something personal, I wanted to change the mesh of that cc, but I had difficulty because I didn't know how to do one thing yet (which I now know how to do). So Jacky said to me "but instead of changing the mesh why don't you take a lamp from the game you like and change the light using the light from this cc?" and she proceeds to send me a tutorial on how to do it. She then added "it's a Nightlife light, it's called [name of light]".

And that's where it all started.

I looked for that lamp in the game, I found it, and it was this one that I asked you about a few days ago.

However, there was a little mystery surrounding it: this neon does not emit light, but both Jacky and I saw blue light. Just me and her. Nobody else.

It was strange. Right now my suspicion is that we probably have a different light from everyone else because we use two lighting mods which, although different, use the same settings for that particular light.

But...Jacky doesn't have NL, yet she saw the RGB color of that NL light, how was that possible? Snooping around a bit in the file, we then discovered that the RGB value was set to emit that particular color. Jacky then understood how to make the RGB codes work on simPe, she explained it to me and out of curiosity I started trying other colors: BINGO! The light could become any color I wanted! And what's even more beautiful? Even Jacky, without having NL could do it! It therefore meant that we could create neons without needing NL and above all... without editing game files.

I was so happy. So to test that light would work for everyone, I sent the light to @simstraffikcone @ash1c , but... it was a fail. It didn't work for them. Right now I thought it was because Traffikcone not have a lighting mod, while Ash has the Maxis Match Lighting mod, which I remember not having that specific NL light with the blue light as Jacky and I see it.

I was confused. I could edit a lot of non-RGB lights and make the colors work on many of them, but no one but me saw those colors when I sent the files. Then Jacky suggested to try using the source of these RGB spotlights... and finally, with this the others were able to see all the colors too!

I hope that the creator of these spotlights doesn't mind that I used the same source, their post is from 18 years ago, the last time they was online was 2021 and they doesn't have a TOU. From the name of the light it seems like a custom light, but not having a custom installation I can't say. This creator is a pro when it comes to editing game lights, I saw them talk about it on some posts on MTS!

In the end, It doesn't matter what kind of light it was, I just needed the RGB values to work.

PROS AND CONS

But at this point you're thinking, looking at they profile on MTS "but sorry, this creator also made RGB ceiling lights, so what are yours for?" and here... comes the part where I explain why my lights exist (don't fall asleep, I'm almost done, I swear)

Its ceiling lights have two requirements that I tried to bypass: you need NL to make them work and to do extra steps, editing game files. Some people are uncomfortable doing these things, others don't have all the expansions!

My lights don't need NL to work and you don't have to do any extra steps, you don't have to edit any of the game files, you just put them in the download folder and play with them.

And why this? Because I don't use the source of their ceiling lights, but that of their spotlights!

But here too you may be wondering...why not use spotlights then? Well...it is a question that includes many factors:

- The spotlights are very nice to use in the garden, but what if you want to use those colored lights indoors? Wouldn't it be strange to have garden lights around the house INSIDE the rooms? I think sims can bypass them, but it's not very aesthetic! With my ceiling lamp not only you not take up space in the house and you can't see it, if you don't want to see it at all you also have the option of making it invisible!

- True, you can mess around with colors to get colors other than red, blue and green, but my lights come with 16 ready colors! So you don't have to bombard an area full of spotlights to form a color! (Mine can mix too btw)

- The spotlights can illuminate a maximum of one or two objects that they point to, this means that to illuminate multiple objects you should use lots of spotlights. My lights on the other hand illuminate practically every object in the room!

- The ONLY con my lights have is that following the light settings of the RGB spotlights, my lights illuminate all objects and sims, but not the walls and floors. This means that you won't always get nice effects, you have to experiment a little. Sometimes rooms that are too empty will have bad effects, it is better to use them on rooms full of objects that reflect light. I tried to solve this problem, but unfortunately I haven't succeeded yet. And this is the same reason why I'm only doing the ceiling version.

I want to point out, however, that I am not discrediting their lights. Indeed, without their work today I couldn't even create these lights! So BIG THANKS to their works! I invite you to also download their (absolutely compatible with mine) They are NOT necessary to make mine work, but if you want to use their too, you can!

Another of the advantages that these lights have is that they work both for those who do not have lighting mods and for those who have them. (Obviously those who have lighting mods have better light and shadow effects, but I can't do nothing about this).

The solution was to create different intensities. People who have lighting mods see lights that basically have low intensity with high intensities. People without a lighting mod see lights with low intensity...well, with very low intensity.

For this reason I made sure that each set of lights has unique guids and that they can all work together. You can put all 5 sets in your download folder, figure out which lights you see best, and delete the ones you don't see well.

I can already tell you that people who don't use lighting mods can use intensities 3 to 5, while those who use lighting mods can use intensities 1 to 3!

So to summarize, the pro of this light are:

Base Game compatible. (You don't need NL!)

Work with and without lighting mods.

5 different intensity which you can choose.

16 ready colors to use.

Invisible recolors for all the 5 sets of intensity.

Ready collection files for all the 5 sets (residential and community lots)

You don't need to edit game files. Installation is simple. Put everything in the download folder and it works. (Everything except the collections you have to put them in the collection(s) folder)

By enabling moveobjects you can put them ANYWHERE, they work both inside and outside the house, and you can use invisible recolors to hide them.

Because they use the light from the RGB spotlights, you can mix colors and sometimes you can create some really cool gradient effects!

They work better with the light off, but even with the light on it has a nice effect because the colors that reflect on the furniture can still be seen.

And the downside...precisely, is only that the walls and the floor don't light up, but I'll see if I can resolve this in the future.

Stop! I'm done torturing you with my chatter! In the download you will find a .rar with all 5 sets + a folder with two collections for every set! (One for community lots and one for residential lots)

Thanks to jgwhiteus for the source of the light, Jacky for explaining how to use the RGB codes on simPE and Ash and Traffikcone for testing the lights for me!

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

(Recommended but not necessary, this rug fix. Game rugs are buggy and don't reflect well the light and the shadows.)

[onlycosmere]

Brandon Sanderson on the length of Wind and Truth

PumkinFunk:  I appreciate Brandon being self-aware about the fact that he will struggle immensely to keep the word counts down for this series.

KiwiKajitsu: If only he had a better editor

PumkinFunk:  I know this has become a common criticism since Rhythm of War after Moshe Feder retired, but I don't think it's true. One of his editors for his books is Devi Pillai, the head of Tor Publishing Group. The Secret Projects were edited in-house and generally were good. He has a lot of people giving him feedback, both in-house and outside.

jmcgit:  If Brandon wanted to work on revisions for an extra 6 months to refine and streamline the book, he could do it. This is a Brandon thing, not an editor thing. What was Brandon working on up until the last minute before he had to turn the book in? He was working on making the book bigger, squeezing in more content that he wanted to add. Brandon will tell anyone who asks that he likes to write, and dislikes revising.

When an author gets big enough, the publishers and editors lose their ability to rein in the author or make certain demands. Brandon will do what he wants, and if Tor doesn't like it, they can cancel his contract and Brandon can self-publish.

Brandon Sanderson: I realize it's difficult to see behind the veil of publishing, and much is opaque, but this isn't what I was doing during the last few months--I was cutting the book significantly. However, rough draft didn't include Interludes or Epigraphs, which is why it got longer after I cut it down. This draft lost over 60k words, but then I added in the interludes and epigraphs (along with a few key scenes I decided were needed.)

So, let's be clear about a few things. No editor has ever--in my life--cut my books down. It's not what they do. They largely haven't suggested it. Every editor, Moshe included, has always suggested things to change or add--they don't do much trimming. That's all my job, and always has been. Yes, there is a line edit, which does help trim--but I haven't stopped taking those suggestions, and usually go much, much further on a page-by-page case than they suggest.

I dislike revision, which is important for me to explain because I want people to understand that even for someone who loves their job, there are parts I don't like. But I DO it. I do A LOT of it. It's the part I have to force myself to do, but I am very good at it--and if you follow my stories about learning revision, you'll find that I very clearly explain that I didn't get published until I mastered the thing that was hardest for me. I consider my it, perhaps, my greatest strength as a writer--my ability to look at feed back and apply it to improve books.

If they get long, it's not because I've lost an editor. Moshe's strong suit was always diction, not trimming--and Gillian (who does that job now) is quite accomplished at both. She's Joe Abercrombie's editor.

I realize it's odd, because "to edit" means to trim, but an editor doesn't usually trim books--they offer suggestions for changes on the larger scope, and sometimes do a line edit pass to clarify.

Stormlight books are not big because I can't stop writing. You can pick any number of my shorter novels and see I'm quite capable of doing something at a normal book length. Stormlight books are big because that's the art I want to make--and they are not, and never have been, out of control. I am perfectly willing to accept that the story I want to tell has not appealed to some in the last installments! But don't blame my editors. This is an artistic choice of mine, and their job has never been to change the art. I get the same amount of editing now as I ever have--and I take largely the same amount of their feedback.

Note: don't take this as a direct condemnation of you or some of the things /u/KiwiKajitsu said above. It's more that I want to be very clear about my goals, and the process. My stance is one of explaining, not arguing against your opinions, as those are valid and perfectly reasonable ones to hold.

I realize that a long comment reply isn't the best way to prove I can be brief, but I sincerely think the trope of "He got big so he lost the ability to be edited" is not one that I fall into--I am, if anything, the most edited person at the industry, and see more criticism and feedback of my books prepublication than any other author. Editors and beta readers collectively wrote some 800k words of feedback for me over the last two years, which I incorporate. Not just the, "Add this" but also the "this sequence feels slow or unengaging." I am extremely passionate about listening to, and incorporating, editorial feedback.

It's fine to not like what I do. But don't blindly make the argument that I write it, kick it out the door, and don't pay attention to the revision process while ignoring editors.

jmcgit: Hey Brandon, I appreciate the insight! I regret that my post may have come off as if you carelessly "write and kick it out the door", as I know how hard you and your team have been working on the book over the past months and years, and how passionate you are about getting it right.

Brandon Sanderson: No problem and no offense taken! I just see a lot of confusion about these things.

I am edited far, far more now than when I was when I started and nobody cared. Though, admittedly, I think the most editorial scrutiny I ever got was on A Memory of Light a decade ago. I probably get less now, but I also have way more extensive beta reads.

It's just a complex process. And, you also ARE right in your initial post that I could go over it again and again, and some authors do. I'm middle of the road on the number of revisions I do, by my experience. Not as many as someone like Pat R. does. More than a lot of authors. I do not subscribe to the Heinline philosophy of only editing when required by contract that is very popular these days. (This philosophy believes that your initial artistic instinct will be right, and you shouldn't undermine it later on. I am not a fan, even if some people I respect follow this philosophy.)

Anyway, your initial post wasn't far off; I just wanted to offer some more context for this thread.

[happypoppyhaha]

Mhmmm how do you feel about Y/N having a crush on their Yandere? At first it was just a small crush. Y/N admires them from afar and maybe follows 1 or 2 of their socials as well. Perhaps has a bad habit of watching them from afar. Could say Y/N is a bit creepy themselves. But alas, absolutely amateur moves in comparison to their Yandere. The Yandere is more than well aware of Y/N feelings towards them. It just as they planned. In order to get Y/N’s attention, what better way than to dress up as their ideal partner.

Thank you for requesting this! I'll make the yandere them/they pronouns since you didn't place a gender on it. And I don't want you to be upset if I picked the wrong gender for the yandere. You can imagine the yandere as male or female. I didn't give the yandere a name since you didn't place a name on them. I'll make this take place in a school.

"Why am I doing this...? This too far than just having a normal crush on you.."

*You think to yourself while scrolling through their social media. You followed them but haven't talked to them because you didn't know how to make the first move, you always expect your crush to come to you.*

"There you are..."

*You whisper to yourself and shut your phone off as soon as your crush appears, unintentionally you weirdly smirk at them but immediately wipe it off before they can take a glimpse at you as you walk out of the bathroom. It's almost like you were waiting for them while you were in the bathroom. You walk out at the same time they walk out of class. For a creep, you keep track of their schedule and try to guess what time they would walk out of class before the bell rings.*

"What do I say? I can't let them catch that I'm literally stalking, just to stare at them some more."

*They walk past the bathroom so you sit around the corner for a bit to not make it seem like you were waiting for them, you see that they are holding something in their hand. Looks like they are delivering something to a teacher.*

"It's okay to keep my distance and just adore you without gaining the courage to speak, right? You wouldn't feel weirded out by a person who always has their eyes on you because they like you, right? It's my way of letting you know I have a crush on you. And you still don't get it? Not one bit?"

*You poked your head out watching them walk down the hallway, you knew how obvious you are and anybody around you would get the sign right away. But it wouldn't make sense to get mad at them when you're the one who hasn't confronted them with your feelings.*

"At first, I didn't like you...but now I do? I guess it was your personality that I wanted in a partner. It started out as a small crush because your face was cute, it didn't grow as much because the way you used to behave and how you were saying certain words that wasn't much of my liking now but now you changed. That caused my feelings to change as well..."

*You look down at the floor, seeing their shadow. You pulled out your phone again to pretend that you're doing something and not waiting for them. As soon as they walk out of the corner. You put your phone away in your pocket this time and act like you are just now noticing them.*

*"I'm going to do it."*

"Hey-"

"Y/N, how long have you been in the bathroom? Are trying to avoid doing work?"

*You have a surprise expression, for them it's two minutes, for you, you waited early now it's five minutes.*

"No, I'm not...I just needed a break from the teacher..."

"Yeah right, I know your true intentions."

*Your heart dropped and your face dropped as well at hearing those words. Now, your strength to confess has left you.*

"I'm not done talking yet! Don't feel like it's going to be bad!"

*They laughs and reassures you that they wasn't going to make it awkward or embarrassing for you.*

"I'm just glad that I'm having your attention right now. To be honest, I didn't want to be the person you wanted me to be right now but I knew I wasn't going to have you if I continued that way. I didn't want you to dislike me or despise me. So I have to perfect myself just for you to acknowledge my existence."

*You were relieved but you felt something is weird in your stomach, something bad? Why? This is your crush but the words they're saying aren't as romantic as you were hoping for. Almost like, they were calculating the outcome and planned it beforehand... probably in a scary manner? You guys haven't talked and they already know what's your type in a partner.*

"I almost forgot to give you an affirmative answer!"

*They took a deep breath and looking at you with those heart swelling eyes.*

"I like you as well, y/n. Before we be official..."

*They grab your phone out of your pocket before you can react to them saying "yes" to your unfinished confession.*

"Password, please. Since you are following me on social media, Iet me unfollow the people on your phone that I don't want you talking to."

"Hold up! You're moving too fast-"

"A relationship needs to be built on trust. Why would you talk to anybody when you're about to enter a talking stage?"

*You were silent for a minute when hearing that, they got a good point but this is too fast for you to take in what's happening right now.*

"Okay, my password is ____"

*They typed in the password and smiled at your honesty for giving them the password without fighting for it.*

"Who are you blocking? Don't block my friends..."

*You see how their fingers are moving and how they are looking at every profile with disapproval before pressing down the block button.*

"I'm just blocking the people I don't want you talking to..."

"Why?"

"Simple, I don't like them. If your friends tell you the people that they don't like, would you follow them?"

"No..."

"Exactly."

*They turns your phone off before giving it back to you. You didn't see who they blocked. The fact they went through your follower list and memorized which one to block if they ever has a hold of your phone.*

"Now, go back to class. I don't want you to be in any more trouble after losing most of your class time."

*You took the phone out of their hand and put it in your pocket again.*

"Bye, y/n. You better not unblock them...I love you!"

*Their classmate saw them outside through the window door and opened it before they could knock. They waved at you before walking into their class.*

"Love you too..?"

*What you just experienced was totally unexpected and now you're just stunned to be in a relationship that easy and fast.*

[doe-eyed-and-desperate]

Love when a good song gives me some ideas

Song reference:

Tongues & teeth by The Crane Wives

Thinking about being fwb with wearwolf outcast of a small town. They’re an outcast for a good reason they’re violent and aggressive the town has half the sense to put them down for some of there outbursts. But you don’t see that you see someone you could fix (classic savior complex) and you want to fix them because you love them (not like you would tell them though). With all their bad habits every time you come over to try and help them a bit, always after a rough few rounds of sex. You think you’re being discreet but they can see right through you..

Eventually they get sick of you trying to help them and confront you, telling you out front that this would never work. They’re far to cruel for you, far to cold, far to violent especially for a little human like you to handle. Grabbing your chin and tilting t up to them as they run their thumb over the cut on your lip from their teeth.

They talk of how they would ruin you, they know that you mean well but they’re not someone who deserve your good intent. They let let go and head to leave now that you’re crying they feel as though they’ve made there point but here you are still tugging on there sleeve talking on how you don’t care. How pitiful they think as you beg and beg for them to stay that you’re fine with all their flaws and just want to at least try making things work..

They keep listening stone faced as you cry and plead with them till they finally snap. Fine you want their love they’ll give it to you. They manhandled you to the ground not bothering to listen to your Inesscents tears why should they this is what you were pleading for. And they’re fully intend to keep to their promise and ruin you.

Looking at the aftermath of your body they smile in an almost sadistic way. They get dressed leaning down to press a small kiss to your lips there teeth cutting into your lips again. As the whisper “if your fine with that you can be mine” they lean back watching as sleep takes you before they get up and leave.

Yah just a thought Ykwim

Always just a thought

Maybe to much of a thought

Anywhoooi

-🎀

I completely forgot about that song, the crane wives are a great band. Also, babes, you need to start writing, this was a very fun prompt. I literally stopped what I was doing and immediately started writing for it

Also, should I name them? if so, I want ideas

WC: 1.1k

TW: Dubcon? violence, toxic/abusive relationship, Ddne

You had always been intrigued by them, hearing stories and rumors of a violent brutal werewolf with not a care for anyone or anything. Whenever they return to the public for any reason the aura of dominance and cruelty radiates off of them. No one needs to be told to stay out of their way, their body just forces them, innately knowing this is a dangerous dangerous person.

But you must be lacking that basic instinct.

That or you're really fucking stupid. The towns people have yet to decide, as you, someone who can't fight for a shit, not that it'd matter, walk up to them and try to begin a conversation. The hair on everyone's neck stands, a sickening dropping feeling in all their stomachs, as though they were the one to talking, knowing what is to come next.

To everyone's surprise, the monster doesn't immediately lash out at you. Bare those jagged teeth or stain your body with their marks, but just stop and stare down at you, their hulking non-human body towering over your own. Perhaps the hesitation is only of confusion, or maybe they've managed to retain a bit of the humanity they once gripped desperately onto.

Who knows.

The people around you quickly pull you away as the werewolf starts to change their mind, snarling at you. You got lucky, don't test it again. But whatever thoughts you had before of them still having the capacity to love have fully been unearthed, know at the forefront of your mind at all times. You saw the hesitation and decided it meant everything.

They decided you were really fucking stupid.

They will only hurt you. They'd enjoy every second of it too. They're nothing but sharp teeth and claws. But you don't listen, trying to prove to everyone that the wolf's not as bad as they seem.

So, you track them down, it isn't too hard, they don't live very far from town, and bring them something you've baked. They're already on edge, not expecting someone to just show up and at their home, and seeing you only pisses them off. But they show restraint and only slam the door in your face, telling you to fuck off. You just leave the pastries on their doorstep, a little hurt, but not shaken, deciding to keep this up.

The second visit they didn't even open the door. But the third was worse. They were angry with your actions, just leave them alone, they don't need your fucking pity. They push you, sending you tumbling back, a claw mark ruining your pretty skin. A few tears well in your eyes from the rejection and pain, but you quickly blink them away and stand back up, trying to talk to them. They just growl and throw the food to the ground next to you.

The towns people are begging for you to stop, they hurt you. They are nothing but the monster they've succumbed to. Why do you want to go back? You don't listen, refusing to give up.

This time you take a different approach, instead of brining something you made, you bring yourself. Offering your body up for their use.

They actually take you up on this offer, kicking you out the second they were done. Leaving you limping and littered in their marks, not caring to be gentle with you. You asked for this, you knew what you were getting into and you just kept coming back for more. Trying to stay after you're both finished, talking gently to them, talking of domestic peaceful things.

They see right through you, they know there is no true altruistic motivation for your actions. This is not for the genuine betterment of the wolf.

No, you never actually cared about that, you're only doing this becuase you want to be seen as better. You just want to feel like a good person with your "good intent." You have a savior complex. You don't actually care about them at all, it's never been about them. It was always about You.

Watching your bloodied lip move while you talk, one they bit into to make it that way, talking about far too sweet things, they snap.

"Stop! Fucking stop! I am so sick of this, I'm not some little project for you to fix, goddamit! I cannot be gentle. Why don't you understand? There is no fixing me. You burn with feelings I can't return."

"You had to know this wasn't going to last."

They turn to leave, going to go hunt as a means to get the anger coursing through their veins an escape. Their words slam you like a brick wall, you look around frantically, body starting to shake, you run towards them. Sobbing and gripping onto their arm, begging for them to stay.

You need them.

Can't they see that?

Its pathetic, but its the only thing you can do. Broken hoarse words spilling from your lips. You don't even know what you're saying anymore, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that they're still here.

They just stare at you with those same dead eyes as they did all that time back. Not an ounce of care in them. They snarl and push you off, but you come back the second you stand. They clench their jaw and refuse to look at you, ignoring your pitifully desperate pleas.

Every time they look at you they can only see the worst parts of themself, the parts that have nearly engulfed them whole. All the claw marks, bruises, cuts, bites, staining your innocent weak body.

This is what they do to those they love.

They will only hurt you.

Can't you see that?

They can't be trusted, they do nothing but harm. They can never change, they wouldn't even if they could. This is who they are. Nothing more, nothing less. Abandon any dream you had about the person they could have been.

They warn you that they will ruin you too, corrupt you. But you don't care, you say they're all you want, no matter what.

Finally, they accept your words, deciding to give you what you're asking for. Pushing you to the ground, tearing your clothes to shreds, stabbing their teeth into your skin, ravaging your body completely. Cry all you want, this is what you were begging for.

What? Can't take it now that you've gotten what you want?

Should've thought about that before pleading for it. You don't have a choice now. You wanted their love? Now you have it.

Using your body till they're fully satisfied, not caring for you at all. Ruining your body with each hit, ruining your body with the pleasure they give, even if not meaning too. They finish, and just like the first time, get up and leave. Your bruised and bleeding body lies there on the cusp of unconsciousness and they sink their teeth into the same cut on your lip, leaning over you, whispering, "You're mine, now.

"This is the price of my love."

[ros3kill3r]

HIT ME HARD AND SOFT lyrics as Marauders Era characters.

SKINNY:

1. “Fell in love for the first time, with a friend it’s a good sign.” - bartylus, rosekiller, or wolfstar.

2. “People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” - either Peter or Lily maybe??

3. “And you said I was your secret. And you didn’t get to keep it.” - jegulus.

LUNCH:

This song is literally just all the lesbian ships into one. It’s like Marlene finding out she’s gay asf and having a gay panic with this song in the background or smth 💀

CHIHIRO:

1. “Did you, take, my love, away, from me?” - regulus about jily.

2. “I don’t know why I called, I don’t know you at all. // but there’s a part of me that recognizes you. Do you feel it too?” - Sirius and Regulus about each other.

3. “Wringing my hands in my lap, and you tell me it’s all been a trap, and you don’t know if you’ll make it back, I say ‘No, don’t say that.’” - regulus to Sirius before he ran away.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER:

1. “Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know I said I’d never think I wasn’t better alone, can’t change the weather, might not be forever, but if it’s forever, it’s even better.” - the pantheons, the marauders, & the valkyries about each other. + platonic prongsfoot and platonic rosestarkiller.

2. “It might not be long, but baby, I, I'll love you 'til the day that I die, 'Til the day that I die. 'Til the light leaves my eyes, 'Til the day that I die.” - evan about barty, or regulus about james. maybe even barty about regulus himself.

3. “I want you to see how you look to me. You wouldn't believe if I told ya, you would keep the compliments I throw ya. But you're so full of shit. Tell me it's a bit, say you don't see it, your mind's polluted. Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid.” - james to regulus or evan to barty. Perhaps Sirius talking about how regulus looks up to him but he always denies it??

4. “I knew you in another life. You had that same look in your eyes. I love you, don't act so surprised.” - literally every single ship in this fandom including the black brothers.

WILDFLOWER (there’s so many more references in these songs I’m just so lazy!):

1. “Well good things don't last, and life moves so fast, I’d never ask who was better 'cause she couldn't be more different from me; happy and free in leather. And I know that you love me. You don't need to remind me. Wanna put it all behind me, but baby.” - regulus about jily getting together.

THE GREATEST:

1. “I'm trying my best to keep you satisfied.” - regulus and basically every single pureblood out there towards their parents.

2. “Let you get your rest, while I stayed up all night. And you don't wanna know how alone I've been. Let you come and go,” - regulus about Sirius after he left.

3. “Man, am I the greatest, my congratulations. All my love and patience, all my admiration. All the times I waited for you to want me naked made it all look painless. Man, am I the greatest.” - regulus about james when all he ever wanted was lily and never reg himself.

4. “And we don't have to fight when it's not worth fighting for (Fighting for).” - regulus when fighting with james about the mark he had just gotten and acknowledging that it was too late to fight about this because he already got the mark forever.

5. Basically this whole song is jegulus and the black brothers coded.

L��AMOUR DE MA VIE:

1. “But I need to confess, I told you a lie. I said you, were the love of my life. The love of my life. Did I break your heart? Did I waste your time? I tried to be there for you. Then you tried to break mine.” - regulus after lying to Barty about liking him back romantically when he in fact didn’t. Barty trying to break his heart by dating evan but it not working and resulting in Barty shattering Evan’s heart instead when he finds out it was all just to make reg jealous.

2. “It isn't asking for a lot for an apology, for making me feel like it'd kill you if I tried to leave. You said you'd never fall in love again because of me, then you moved on immediately.” - barty to regulus when asking for an apology for lying and breaking his heart and regulus just saying that he’d never fall in love after barty but then immediately moved on to james.

3. “So you found her, now go fall in love, just like we were if I ever was.” - regulus when he finds out rosekiller is a thing.

4. “Thought I was depressed or losing my mind, my stomach upset almost all of the time. But after I left, it was obvious why. Because for you, I was the love of your life, but you were not mine.” - regulus when in a relationship with barty because it was before he transitioned and it was the regulus that barty was in love with and it felt so toxic and degrading for reg because that’s not who he truly was. For barty, regulus was the love of his life, but for him barty wasn’t because he treated regulus like a girl, and he always would.

THE DINER:

STFU THIS WHOLE SONG SOUNDS LIKE ROSEKILLER WITH TOXIC + STALKER BARTY AND NORMAL EVAN WHO IS IN LOVE WITH BARTEMIUS BUT HE JUST CANT BC HES A CRIMINAL AND HES INSANE AND AS MUCH AS HE HATES IT HE KNOWS HE HAS TO CALL THE COPS AND HE CANT LIVE CALMLY BC SOMEHOW BARTY ALWAYS MANAGES TO ESCAPE AND FIND HIM AND KILL ANYONE HES SEEING OR DATING AND HES JUST GOING TO DIE ALONE BUT ALSO NOT???

BITTERSUITE:

1. “I can’t fall in love with you.” - again, regulus about barty. Lily about James, and if you wanna get really dark with it; James about Peter.

2. “'Cause I can't fall in love with you no matter how bad I want to.” - regulus with barty bc he knows barty would try his best and would understand this change but he just can’t fall in love with him!

BLUE (good god…):

1. “I try to live in black and white, but I'm so blue.” - every single fucking slytherin ever??

2. “I'd like to mean it when I say I'm over you, but that's still not true.” - this can mean so many things, it’s just all up to our imagination.

3. “I thought we were the same birds of a feather, now I'm ashamed.” - Dorcas and pandora about barty, reg, and evan because Dorcas began to work for the order and her best friends didn’t and she was ashamed, yet she thought they’d always still together and they’d choose the right path.

4. “You were born bluer than a butterfly, beautiful and so deprived of oxygen.” - pandora.

5. “Colder than your father’s eyes, he never learned to sympathize with anyone.” - barty.

6. “I don’t blame you, but I can’t change you. Don’t hate you, but we can’t save you.” - all the slytherins (JUSTICE FOR MY SLYTHERINS!!)

7. “You were born reachin’ for your mother’s hands, victim of your father’s plans to rule the world.” - regulus.

8. “Too afraid to step outside, paranoid and petrified of what you’ve heard.” - evan.

9. “But they could say the same 'bout me I sleep 'bout three hours each night means only twenty-one a week now, now.” - Dorcas about herself after leaving her friends who were her true family for nearly her whole life.

10. “And I could say the same 'bout you; born blameless, grew up famous too, just a baby born blue now, now.” - Dorcas about her friends.

[greetings-fiends]

Sometimes I think about a yugioh "night at the museum" au because I adore the natm movies and it seems like a fun and fitting scene.

Yugi as a lonely young adult taking a temp night gaurd gig at one of his grandpa's friend's museum of business.

Shenanigans ensue.

[mejomonster]

U know how sometimes you feel a bit (and that bit can vary wildly) sad about how many flaws you have (which is normal and human) and how much growing you can do (which is a good goal but perhaps self destructive once you're putting off A Certain Amount of life until you've done "more work" with that goal post of "more work" always moving farther even though at a certain point you should probably accept that every person is somewhat flawed and always needs to grow more and it's okay to Actively Live one's life and enjoy it DURING that endless process of growing)

Well I certainly feel that way again. I feel like all I should do in my free time for the next 3 months (rather than play or create or self care) is do workbooks for healing and growing. And that I shouldn't bother with my life goals again until I've completed the workbooks At Minimum. (And my instincts are saying ummm that plan sounds like a touch workaholic and avoiding actually living life and isolating)

[shoutyourporpoise]

I want a LOT more support for the body neutrality movement over body positivity at this point because in my eyes body pos gave us midsize people reassuring one another that they weren’t fat and barely-chubby models donning padding and shapewear to create the Perfectly Sexy Hourglass fatty so we could have unrealistic standards just the same as everyone else.

[shiningstages]

Getting White Day Tsukasa first try, and seeing the newer cards on JP, really makes me wanna write fanfic again..........

[januaryembrs]

YOU WERE LIKE AN ANGEL TO ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: my DARLING @avis-writeshq says- i’m a menace but i ADORED the spencer fic u posted 🥹 UGH THEYRE SO CUTE YOUR HONOURRRR 👹if it’s okay, may i request another fic with the same couple 🙈 perhaps one day reader is not as sweet or chirpy as she usually is, or she gets injured or threatened in the field? much love and lots of kisses xoxo 🫶

Description: Spencer swore he wanted to hate her. She was too happy, too chirpy, too much for a guy who spent months rotting in prison. But how could he ever hate her when she cried in his chest like that?

Length: 5k (I'm feral for these two)

warnings: post prison reid. Angst. depiction of suicide from the Unsub. gory language used. guns mentioned. mention of $nuff video and other murders. Nothing that hasn't been done on CM already.

authors note: if y'all want to see more with these two just SAY because I am all ears I would die on this ship

There were a lot of times in his time at the BAU that Spencer had wished he could have changed the outcome of their bad guy, surprisingly enough. There was the time they found their UnSub a few minutes too late, and one of the victims fathers decided to take him out then and there with a shotgun to the head. He was just a kid. There was the entire time he was with Tobias Hankel, and he lived in a state of both fear and sympathy for the boy trapped in his own body after years of abuse. There was Nathan Harris, the kid who had stopped him at the subway station and practically begged him for help to stop his urges to murder, only to slit his own wrists before Spencer could get to him because he thought he was tainted. 

He could see how it was easy in their job to get wrapped up in saving the day, in saving everyone they could. He just had hoped, on some stupid grace of a god he didn’t even believe in, that she would have at least remained untouched by the bad luck. 

Spencer had always thought, since the first day he had arrived back into the office after his stint in prison, that she seemed to just waltz through life easier than anyone else. He knew the concept of luck was not quantifiable, that it was just a coincidence that good things happened to some people, and bad things happened to others. He always grouped himself in with the latter, because what was his entire life if not one bad hand of cards after another?

Part of him had been seething with vitriol jealousy when he first met her. He hated how the elevator doors seemed to open without hesitation for her, no waiting required. He hated how her hair never seemed to fall out of place, while his required primping and preening to upkeep. He hated how she was always so happy, whether it had been she’d been given an extra cookie at the bakery for free, or her coffee had just tasted super delicious that morning, or the road works clogging the city had been put on hold the one day she needed to drive into the office. She was one of those people, he had decided, that life just seemed to smile down upon, and she beamed back in that dazzling grin. 

He felt sick to his stomach for ever wishing it gone, especially when she looked like she might never smile again. 

They never liked to say that they had easy cases and hard ones, all of their cases were difficult to process. But this one had been a handful above the rest. 

“UnSub has been killed on site, all units stand down,” Luke said into the radio, and the entire squadron took a sigh of relief, all of them except him. 

Because he saw that look in her eye, the way everything sparkly about her seemed to have vanished.

They had been following Bobbie Wrids for a week. Five bodies in, five men shot between the eyes execution style, almost six by the time they’d arrived on the scene. 

She’d gone with Tara around the front of the abandoned building; Penelope tracked their newest victim, Henry Frond, through his phone pinging off the nearest satellite towers, and it had been straight forward from there. Or at least it should have been. 

Because by the time Spencer and Luke arrived in their own SUV, Penelope had time to access the rest of Henry’s phone, and it was clear to see the victimology behind all six men. 

They were distributing snuff videos of women, some between themselves, some to other usernames on the darkweb, and Bobbie Wrids’ daughter had been one of them.

Bobbie had become somewhat of a vigilante, but he was a grieving father above all. He was a wounded animal chomping at the bit to soothe the ripping pain of his daughter's murder, the same one those men were getting off to. 

Tara and her exchanged a glance as Penelope relayed the information over their headsets, her once serious expression falling into something sombre and sorrowful. How could she arrest a man she couldn’t help but feel sorry for, one she couldn’t help but think wasn’t entirely wrong in his actions. 

“Bobbie Wrids,” Tara’s voice was stern, cutting through the silence of the desolate building. Their footsteps were careful as they made their way through the hallway, down to what had once been a rec-room, or perhaps a staff room, where they knew Bobbie had Henry, “This is the FBI, we’d like to talk,” 

They heard nothing, and she looked up to the older woman hesitantly, her finger hovering over the trigger the way Spencer had taught her. Tara took a minute, knowing she was leading the charge here with the girl being so inexperienced, before she nodded to the door knob and the rookie twisted the handle, pushing the peeling wood open gently. 

Bobbie Wrids stood in the centre of the room, moth eaten couches either side of the damp rug, the ceiling tiles half caved in from wear and tear. Henry Frond was already a pulp in the UnSub’s arms, and yet it was Bobbie that her eyes shot to first, sympathy shooting through every fibre of her being when she saw the distraught look on the father’s face. 

He was grieving. He was grieving his little girl’s death. He was looking for a solution, and this seemed to be his best bet. 

“Bobbie,” Her voice was shaky, her and Tara frozen in the doorway as the man brought the pistol to Henry’s beaten face, cocking it towards his temple before they could even explain themselves. “We’re going to come in, is that okay? We just want to talk, just let us talk-”

They had only edged closer by three paces between them as she was speaking before his knuckles turned white and he squeezed the gun tighter to Henry’s skin, the barrel contorting the flesh, “Don’t come any closer, this pig isn’t worth your mercy,”

“We know,” She said, her and Tara slowly stepping over a fallen ceiling tile, cracking under her boot as she met his desolate gaze for the first time, his head snapping to her. “We know what he did, Bobbie. What they all did.”

His throat bobbed, his bottom lip quivering and the sight of it, a man so broken, forced a frog into her oesophagus, and she willed herself not to cry. 

“They hurt my little girl,” Bobbie choked out, his face turning mauve as the tears began to build behind his eyes, “She was my girl. She was only eighteen.” 

She nodded, his wetted hues seemingly permissive when she stepped closer to where he held Henry hostage. 

“I know, I’m so sorry for what happened to her,” She said, her voice croaky, unstable as she wrenched it into something audible, “I’m so sorry,” 

“He doesn’t deserve mercy, none of them did,” Bobbie spat, his forearm crushing against Henry’s trachea in a vice-like grip. The man floundered, a wheeze coming from his lungs, not that she felt much sympathy for him. 

She sprung into action, flicking her gun onto safety and holstering it, Tara doing the same as she lowered her weapon to her side. He profiled as a vigilante; he had no reason to hurt them. 

“Bobbie, listen, I know they didn’t deserve to walk free, okay?” She said, taking the smallest step towards where the men stood, “But she wouldn’t want this for you, would she?”

The man flinched, his jaw hard as a rock with how he clenched his teeth together, as if holding back a sob. 

“Come on, Bobbie. Let him go, we have enough evidence to get him sentenced. We can get you a plea deal, I know a good lawyer,” She begged, because she wasn’t beneath it, because she knew he was a good man backed into a corner, “Please,”

Maybe it was the way her eyes were soft when she looked at him, or the fact two more agents burst into the room from the hallway, Spencer’s eye immediately falling to where she was stood so close to their UnSub, her gun out of hand. Tara stood by, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He edged with light footsteps until he was behind her, his gaze cautious, never leaving the gun in Bobbie’s hand. 

“Please,” She repeated, and Spencer saw Bobbie’s shoulders drop, every sliver of resolve draining from his body at her gentle tone, a deer approaching a hunter. 

Henry was thrown to the floor, the man practically dead weight as he gasped, almost retching at the feeling of air sucking back into his chest frantically, and Luke and Tara were quick to wrestle him into cuffs, the woman reading him his Miranda rights. 

Spencer almost made a grab for her then, because she was still creeping forward towards the man who had a loaded gun still live in his hand. He didn’t care for one second that the statistics said Bobbie wouldn’t lay a hand on her since she wasn’t part of his list. He didn’t care that every sign pointed to their UnSub being benevolent towards women, especially younger ones, that she fit his daughter’s description. Spencer didn’t care, he wanted her as far away from that gun as possible. 

His heart lurched into his throat when Bobbie did in fact make a lunge for her, just not the way he’d feared. Because she had grabbed him. She’d pulled him into an embrace, a hug, kind and sweet as she always was. 

Spencer cursed her for being so soft. It was going to get her killed. 

“Agent,” His voice was terse, worried if you dug a little deeper than the sharp surface, but she didn’t listen to him. She held Bobbie tight as the man unravelled on her shoulder, falling into heart breaking sobs and it was then Spencer realised she was crying with him. 

“It’s going to be okay, you’re okay,” She was shushing him, the killer, reassuring him he was safe, as if the killing thing wasn’t still between his fingers that clutched at her back with rough hands. 

“They killed my girl, they took her from me, and then they laughed about it,” He wailed, and she nodded, squeezing him even tighter if that was so possible, “No one would listen, the police didn’t listen, I had to do something,”

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sympathising with the criminals. But she couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help the gasping urge to comfort the man who had lost his whole world, “I’m listening. Tell me about her,” 

“She was so beautiful,” Bobbie whimpered, sniffling into her shoulder. Spencer felt his chest twinge at the scene. He hated that she was so soft. “She never hurt a soul,”

She cried with him, though hers were choked down as much as she could get them, her wet cheeks the only proof she had ever let them slip. 

“I’m sorry,” She said again, because no matter how many times she repeated those two little words, it would never bring his daughter back, “I can help you,”

He pulled away from her shoulder, and it was only then that Bobbie Wrids even noticed Spencer, his face taut in anxiety as he watched the man’s hands still holding onto her body as if she was the only thing that kept him upright, which Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if it were true. 

He fished the cuffs out of his back pocket, his finger never leaving the trigger as he stared down at their UnSub cautiously. He knew he may be being cruel, knew that ten years ago he would be just as caring as her. But that Spencer was long gone. And what remained was screaming in terror that she was in the line of danger, that she was holding the danger in her bare hands like she didn’t see the jeopardy she was putting herself in. 

Bobbie pulled away to look at her, the creases around his eyes deep chasms, and even with the smattering of grey hair, the stubble, the cold, empty look of someone with nothing left, she thought he might have been a handsome man once. He looked at her with a ghost of a smile, and one of his callused hands came up to tuck her hair behind her ear as if it had been second nature to him for eighteen years. 

“You’re a sweet girl,” He murmured, and she blinked at him, her chest easing at the way his wails had subsided into something quiet. She could help him, she swore she would help him. He was a good man beneath it all. “But no one can help me anymore, sweet girl,”

And with that he lifted the pistol beneath his chin and pulled the trigger.

—

She heard someone scream before she realised it was coming from her own throat, but her ears were ringing and she couldn’t open her eyes. Her face was wet and hot, and for a second she thought it was tears, but she was beyond crying now. She felt arms pulling her back into a strong chest, and someone was murmuring to her, or perhaps they were speaking normally and the sound of the gunshot had knocked her hearing. Either way, it was like someone had pulled a bag over her head as she brought her shaking hands up to her eyes to wipe. 

She managed to crack her lids then when the sludge was gone, only to see the room still a blurry mess. She could make out, in the haze of blobs and crimson tint, Bobbie’s body slumped to the floor, a dark puddle seeping into the rug as those long arms tugged her out of the room. She only then looked down to her hands where she had rubbed her face and she caught the same claret plasma coating her fingers, her white shirt, her pants, her arms. It covered her head to toe. 

It was in her eyes, she realised when she saw the ichor coating her fingertips. It was blocking her vision, turning the world a vivid wine colour, and she thinks she whimpered, or perhaps it was a moan of horror seeing the puddle beneath Bobbie’s body growing larger by the second. 

“I don’t understand,” She said out loud, her head spinning, and she brought her fingertips up to her eyes again, maybe to get the blood out, god there was so much blood on her face, or maybe because she hoped to everything out there that she would clear her sight and find it all a terrible hallucination, the product of one too many nights of sleepless tossing. 

But when she rubbed her lids again, this time seeing the scene a little better, Bobbie was still dead. She had still been too late. 

“You’re in shock, you need to breathe,” A voice instructed her over her shoulder, and it was from the same person who had their hands around her waist, pulling her away from the crime scene, as CSI filed in from behind them. 

She tried pushing the arms off her, weak because she couldn’t feel anything that wasn’t the horror in her stomach, and it took her a second before she listened to their words and realised she was holding a breath in her chest, the way a toddler does when they’re overwhelmed. 

“I don’t-” She gasped, the air rushing through her lungs, so fast it made her cough, “I don’t understand, I was going to help him- I don’t understand- why?”

“I know, just breathe for me, sweetheart,” Spencer. She only just realised it was Spencer speaking, because he had never called her that and the gentle tone he’d taken was nothing like his usual, civil cadence. He had been dropping a few jokes the past few weeks since she’d driven him home, had been more touchy feely with correcting her form when she was at the shooting range, had delicately touched the small of her back when they were navigating a crowd together. He was slowly cracking from his statuesque expression that hadn’t left his face since he’d gotten out of prison, but the softness with which he held her waist was entirely new. 

“Spencer, I don’t- I don’t get it,” She said, her voice bubbling into a sob as she allowed herself to be pulled away with no fight left in her. He took her into the hallway, turning her body from the sight of his hand lifeless on the floor with little to no effort. She was damn near limp in his arms, “Spencer, I don’t under-understand, I was going to h-help him, why would h-he do that-”

“Shhh, you need to breathe,” He murmured into her hair, trying to lead her out the front of the building and far away from where she’d just been front row seats to a messy suicide, “Come on, just breathe for me, baby, and then we can talk,”

But she wasn’t listening, and he wasn’t offended. Spencer knew it was the shock. He knew the symptoms by how her respiratory system had picked up in a matter of seconds and it was like she had gone from zero to a hundred. She let out a long whine, tears collecting the blood on her lash line and her chest seized into action, gulping down air, too short to do anything for her lungs, and her legs began to buckle beneath the two of them. 

Spencer stopped in the hallway, realising she was in more shock than he must have thought. He knew she was sensitive, hell it was one of his favourite things about her. He knew she felt everything so deeply, burned too easily, like a daisy wilting in a dry heat, or candyfloss melting in his mouth. Spencer knew, as awful as watching death up close was for any agent, it would hit her hardest of all of them. 

He moved around to her front, his hands migrating from her waist up to her shoulders, brushing over her upper arms soothingly. But her body felt numb, her head felt heavy, and her eyes were glazed over, down a rabbit hole entirely away from him, even when one of his hands cupped her wetted cheek gently. 

“Just breathe, hey, look at me,” He tried a firmer tone, and she bent to his will too easily. It was a punch in the gut seeing everything shining and pretty leached out of her eyes, as if she had become soulless in a matter of minutes, as if she had lost all hope in the world the second Bobbie pulled that trigger. She looked like hell, blood still fresh on her cheeks, in her hair, smeared around her eye sockets where she had scrubbed so hard to get it off her skin, “You need to calm down, you’re going to faint if you don’t breathe,”

She nodded, or something close to it, her eyes falling down to the floor, and she seemed to wrestle for control over her chest then. But what came after was worse, Spencer thought. Her brows screwed together, her eyes welling up with more of those fat tears, and her lips dropping into a devastated pout, her eyes trailing over the mess on her uniform, on her hands. 

“Spencer, I don’t understand, I tried to help him, I wanted to help him,” She sobbed, sniffling to herself miserably, and he barely even thought about it when he pulled her into his chest, not caring that her skin would dirty his shirt. 

His hand wound into her hair, stroking her sweetly as she buried her wails into his vest. He used his other arm to pull her close to him, which she seemed to have zero qualms about as she clawed at his back to keep him close, as if she didn’t want to face what was going to happen when they left that building. 

Spencer regretted ever thinking her sunshine was too bright for him. 

–

She hadn’t smiled in a whole week. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had given Penny a very forced smile when she had fussed over the younger woman the first day she got back, had said thankyou with downcast eyes and a fragile grin when the blonde presented her with a framed picture of a puppy to keep on her desk ‘incase she needed something nice to think about,’

She hadn’t looked at it once, because they both knew it wouldn’t do anything, no matter how much she pretended for Penelope’s sake that she would put it to good use. 

He had taken her out for coffee on him that first day, but by the time they had got to the front of the queue, he had been doing almost all of the talking, which had become rare nowadays since he had come home from Mexico. Usually, it had been her filling the silences, because he knew in her right mind she hated the sound of static nothingness, she found it awkward and unnecessary when she could talk to anyone without thinking about it too hard. 

They had got to the desk, the barista smiling up at him as he ordered his usual, before he turned to look at her as the woman serving asked her what she would like. But she wasn’t listening, she was watching out the window, nothing particularly invigorating beside a bird cleaning its feathers on top of a stop sign. 

He said her name, putting his hand on her back and her head whipped around, her eyes empty as they looked up at him expectantly, “What do you want to drink?” 

She blinked, waking herself from a stupor, and looked at the barista with an embarrassed expression, “Hot chocolate, please,” 

And that was all she really had to say until lunch rolled around, and she excused herself to head home early. Emily smiled at her reassuringly, her eyes wary as she watched their happy-go-lucky rookie head for the elevators with a desolate look in her eyes. 

Spencer hoped she would come around on her own, or maybe even be brave enough to talk to someone about the thoughts rattling around that head of hers, but she just didn’t. She stayed as silent as possible, only ever speaking when spoken to, asking Emily if she could finish off her reports at home, to which the Prentiss woman never protested. 

But Spencer had had enough. He’d worried himself sick over her, and where all thoughts of how endearing and lovely and charming she was had sat in his head before, now it was all just ways he could think to make her smile again. 

It was the following Tuesday by the time he braved action. She had gone home after their midday briefing, apologising to Emily with tired eyes that seemed to be growing more and more heavy by the day, like she hadn’t slept a wink in a fortnight. Which Spencer thought was entirely possible. 

He pulled up to the house Penelope had not so discreetly told him was hers, definitely not because he’d asked, and definitely, definitely not breaching any human resource policies about distributing fellow workers information (meaning Spencer had almost certainly not begged Penelope for the address with those puppy eyes of his he knew could bag him anything). 

The peonies in the window bays were wilting but her house was something out of a fairytale. He wasn’t sure why he was really so surprised. It screamed her, everything about it, from the toadstool post box to the little green, cast iron bench that sat in the garden, the metal forged to look like florets of ivy holding the sitter upright. 

He rapped the brass knocker, the metal cold under his long fingers. Brushing invisible dirt off his shirt, he hoped she would answer as the present squirmed at his feet. 

“Just a second,” He hushed, and as if she heard him, the front door swung open to reveal her bare face he hadn’t seen since he’d helped her wipe the blood from her skin in the back of the ambulance. 

She looked at him with furrowed brows, before they quickly shot to the floor, to her cobbled pathway that had clicked under his shoes, and her face washed with a shock. 

“Oh my god, Spencer!” She crouched to her knees, a slobbery lick immediately meeting her cheek as the Spaniel rubbed his wet nose up to her ear, sniffing her unique smell, as if it was a bag of Class A’s, “I never knew you had a dog,” 

“I don’t,” He replied, kneeling with her to ruffle the soft fur behind the canine’s ear, “This is Ace. He retired from the Bomb Unit a month ago and Penelope sent me his handler’s number. They said he’s the happiest dog in the world,” 

 “I would be too if I stopped so many people from blowing up,” She said, but before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, Ace had jumped up and attacked her entire face with kisses as if he too thought that statement was worth silencing. 

And she laughed. She laughed louder than she had in days, weeks, her eyes crinkling in joy as the little pink tongue stole away her sorrow, tickled away the traces of the blood that had tainted her skin. 

Spencer smiled, his eyes watching her face scrunch in a squeal, hands eventually coming up to the elderly dog’s jowls to gently push him down. 

“Oh, you are the sweetest guy,” She said, and the words had him tugging at the leash to lick her all over again, “Yes you are, you’re the sweetest little guy around, huh?” 

She chuckled, scratching down the mutt’s neck, and her eyes flicked back up to Spencer, who watched her with more intent than she’d realised. 

“Petting and receiving affection from pets causes spikes in serotonin in our brain and reduces anxiety, did you know that?” Spencer said, Ace pushing his muzzle into the palm of her hand to prove a point. 

Her smile wavered slightly, and she looked at his hazel hues that seemed to see right through her, “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been so off lately, I just can’t sleep at the moment-”

 “Don’t apologise,” He cut in, though his tone was kind, and the two of them stood back up to their full height, “What happened was horrifying, even some of the longest serving agents I know would struggle seeing that,” 

She scoffed, unusually pessimistic coming out of her mouth, “You wouldn’t,”

His head tilted, not quite understanding what she meant, because she hadn’t sounded cruel when she said it. Then again, he didn’t think she was actually capable of that emotion. 

She looked at him, a flash of something vulnerable in her eyes, something like that day he’d held her in the hallway; too fast he almost missed it.

“You’re so brave, Spencer, you’re like invincible. I mean, you survived prison and your mom getting kidnapped and you bounced straight back to work like it was nothing. I can’t even watch a murderer die without spiralling out of control,” She huffed, rubbing the bridge of her nose and before he could respond on just how wrong she was, before he could tell her that that was exactly the opposite of what had happened because he had damn near changed every inch of himself in prison to stop himself from breaking, he caught her murmuring and he thought he might just have been punched all over again, “I wish I was like you,”

His jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stepped towards her, and her head shot to him, worried she may have said the wrong thing by mentioning everything that had happened, everything Pen had specifically said was a touchy subject, and she opened her mouth to apologise. 

“Do you know how unbelievably glad I am that you are nothing like me?” Spencer said, his voice bordering on furious and her fumbled for a reply, worried she had truly pissed him off. 

She wouldn’t blame him for hating her. She’d always worried, until perhaps that day they’d gotten into her car and she’d driven him home, that her very essence annoyed him. 

“I’m sorry-” She started, but he shook his head.

“Stop apologising,” He said, his hand reaching up to grab where her fingers tugged together nervously, his hold featherlike, his face softening when he saw her expression, “I don’t want you to be anything like me. I like you just how you are,” 

She sighed, eyes doe like with emotion as she looked at him, “Really?”

He smiled, a rare and genuine smile as she seemed to glow under his words, “Yes, really.” Spencer allowed himself to enjoy the way that the twinkle returned to her expression when he smiled at her with something almost like the old Spencer in him, before he cleared his throat, “We all like you. Everyone on the team likes how you are,”

She paused, nodding to herself as if knocking herself out of a silly daze, and Ace bounced on his hind legs trying to get her attention again. 

“You don’t think I’m too sensitive?” She asked, holding her palm out for the dog to nuzzle at with that wet nose of his. 

Spencer shook his head, “Sensitive is good. It means you feel something. Means you feel the good things deeper too,” 

Her smile was blinding, because she’d never thought of it that way before, and she looked like her old self again. Spencer wasn’t stupid enough to think she was never going to think about Bobbie again, he still thought about that first UnSub he’d tried to save. He still thought about Tobias Hankel. He thought about them all. 

But he was going to make sure she never turned into him. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself if she did. He’d protect her sunlight even if it burned him to know he could never have her the way he wanted. Because she was everything good, and he was him. 

She looked down at Ace, the life returning to her as she stood aside for the two of them to enter her house, “Tea?”

Yep. Spencer felt something run hot knowing she would always be out of reach. Didn’t stop him from thinking about it, though. 

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[intersexdabi]

some of these dabi analyzers need to seek out the real world

[etfrin]

⤷❝Dimwits and Stupid Dolls | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, dom sub undertones, pussy slapping, degradation, ownership kink, dubcon if you squint (not really coz reader loves it), overstimulation, masterbation (f. receiving), voyeurism if you squint, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), mentions of torture and killing | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president! Coriolanus x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: He's tired of stupid people and then he sees you fucking yourself stupid on your fingers instead of waiting for your husband to fuck you as you deserve, of course he has to punish you

⇢☾A/N: this was inspired by that one ask of what happens when Coryo sees reader touching herself and by the fact I want to be absolutely railed by Snow when he's angry

< m. list > < arranged marriage m.list > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >

Coriolanus Snow prided himself on his perfection, his wit, the power he had, and the utter self-control he had established with time. But, the lord often gives his hardest battles to his toughest soldiers, and Coryo was no exception to that matter. His toughest battles came in the form of dimwits he had to deal with during work.

He wanted to shoot them all, melt their brains, perhaps even throw them into the games. He was seething by the time he had entered the manor. He hastily goes to his study, wondering if finishing the paperwork would make him feel better. It didn't. Of course, it fucking didn't.

He wanted to go to you, hear your laugh, have your arms around him, feel your lips against his. But a gentleman wouldn't show himself like this. His mind buzzed with hot red, his eyes in a glare he couldn't control.

It didn't even take him a second to change his mind when he saw you through the monitor of one of the cameras he had placed everywhere in the mansion. ‘Fuck it,’ he thinks as he sees you fucking your pussy with your fingers. Three fingers in, your hips bucking up to ride your digits. Your wrist was on your mouth, it was clear you were biting the flesh to stop whatever sound that was coming out, your eyes closed shut as your fingers continued to breach the entrance of your (his) pussy.

So not only he had to deal with dimwits all day, his slut of a wife couldn't even wait for him to fuck her into the mattress, you had to resort to your fingers instead of having patience. Coriolanus felt his pants tighten and his jaw clenched. He may not be able to kill those men, but a whore like you could certainly be punished for playing with what's his.

He went to the master bedroom, everyone averting his presence, knowing that they would be prey if they didn't. When he enters, you don't even realize his presence, too fucked with your fingers abusing your swollen clit. Your mess was all over the sheets. How many times have you cum like this? And yet you weren't satisfied. He's married to a slut indeed.

He walks up to the bed, in quiet steps so you don't become aware of his presence. Quickly enough, he got rid of his pants and boxers, not bothering with his shirt and vest. A gentleman would have taken everything, but you proved wrong to be worthy of that treatment right now.

Soon enough, he made aware of his presence by holding the wrist of the hand you were fucking yourself onto. You open your eyes, surprised by the touch. A whimper slips out of your mouth, the sound muffled as your lips are covered by your opposite hand. Your pussy squeezed your fingers, as you notice Coriolanus. His blue eyes were mad, feral even, his face a bit red but his lips had a smirk which indicated that he was going to enjoy this.

“Dolls should be played with,” he whispered, “but they shouldn't play with themselves, isn't that right, Dove? A good doll should wait for its owner to play.” You hastily remove the hand that was covering your sounds. “Coryo,” you whispered, your words broken with need.

“Wanted you so bad,” you said, “You were busy and… I missed you.” He felt guilt sprout in his mind, indeed with the games coming up, he hadn't spent much time with you. But both of you knew if you demanded it, he would have given his attention to you, even if it was only a minute he could spare.

“That doesn't excuse your action, pet,” he said, his hand pulling at your wrist making your fingers pop out of your slick cunt. “You were playing with what's mine. Fucking mine. Deal with the consequences.” He cups your pussy with his palm like it's the most precious thing, covering his hand in your juices. You closed your eyes, preparing for what was to come, your nerves at its most peak with sensitivity and anticipation. Smack, smack, smack.

You cried out of pain but mostly pleasure, a dizzying pleasure that filled your veins from the slaps Coryo was delivering onto your soaking wet cunt. Each slap was done with precision, the pleasure just high enough to gloss over the pain. The stings of the slaps make tears fall on your face. All the while he watches, he watches the way his hand hits your core, and the sheets get soaked with your essence. He watches as your body heats up more and more, your jaw slacked as you moan and whine, your eyes glazed but filled with love for him anyway.

Who knows how long after was he satisfied? Was it when you ended up sobbing into his chest, begging him to stop, that your pussy can't take it anymore, that it aches and you want to cum, cum, cum? You're so close and it's not enough, each slap hitting your clit perfectly, making your slit clench around nothing and gush more of your juices out. But he was satisfied as you sobbed and pleaded for him, his cock, and his forgiveness of your sins, that he had stopped his punishment for touching what's his. He tilts your head up and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“That's my girl. How many times did you cum before I caught you, dove?” You hesitate to answer but whisper, “Fo-four, Coryo. But it wasn't enough. I need you. I need you, goddamn it. My love, my Coryo.”

A filthy rough kiss was all you received in answer, his fingers sliding inside your gummy walls. “Eight times should it then,” he smirks against your lips. You can't even begin to fathom what would happen later. Not when his fingers curve up just right against your g-spot, making you spasm around his fingers.

The first orgasm by him for the night.

“Fucking take it,” he whispered against your ear, his teeth biting your ear lobe, his hot breath against your sweaty skin. He grunts, “You do it, my doll,” as he fucks into you. Your legs hooked over his shoulders as his balls slapped your ass with every thrust. Skin meeting skin and the sound of it much louder than your moans. You were by your seventh orgasm by now, the bed sheets soaked below his cum and yours.

Every time you begged that you can't, he fucked into you harder and faster. “I can't- not anymore- I swear Coryo-” you whimper. His response is shutting you by biting your lower lip hard enough that you bleed and he sucks it all up. He groans into your mouth as he tastes it on his tongue. Everything else is ignored, and no encouragement is given. This was your punishment.

Fucking take it.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness

[elizzsush]

Merfolk Courting Rituals | TWST

Octavinelle Dorm X Reader

Azul X Reader, Jade X Reader, Floyd X Reader,

---- Merfolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, in the deep sea you need to be sure of your partner after all. (Non-Human courting rituals part 2/3)

Savanaclaw Ver. | Diasomnia Ver.

Floyd:

It was spring when it happened. Almost summer. The days we’re warming up and everyone was suffering a bit for it.

Usually, you would be able to go about your business alone, or perhaps with the company of Grim if he felt like it. Today however, a certain eel was towering over your shoulder. “Shrimpy~” he’d giggle, a shiver was sent down your spin at his voice.

You slowly turned around. “A-ah? Hey Floyd…” you smiled warily. You usually, like most people in school, avoided the eel like the plague. He flashed his sharp teeth at you and extended his hand, the other one in his pocket in a more relaxed manner then your posture.

“A tooth…?” You squinted at the item, it was pointy: like his own teeth.

Realistically, you didn’t really wanna hold this. Not that you’d tell him that. You glanced up at him again and saw those same teeth, not a single one out of place. “Do ya like it?~”

He leaned closer to your face, his eyes widened ever so slightly in a more intimidating manner. Clearly his lack of personal space had never changed. “Um… yes! I do…?!” You were quick to awnser back.

Pleased with himself, he giggled loudly and walked away.

What was that about?

After that he’d keep approaching you with odd gifts… at one point he presented you with the largest pearl you’ve ever laid your eyes on and then the next day he gifted you with a handful of beautiful scales.

You dreaded to think about the poor mer behind that gift…

Either way, this was suspicious, right? When Floyd leech approached you, you either run away or get squeezed, why were you getting gifts? It also didn’t help your relationship with the Housewarden of Heartslabyul, who now avoids you like the plague.

Seriously, when you walk into a room Riddle happened to be in, he jumps up and leaves immediate- sometimes even running away like you were his tormentor instead of Floyd!

You’d also noticed that Floyd would yawn more around you… You didn’t think you were boring either because he wouldn’t be around you if you were boring to begin with! “Are you getting enough sleep?”

“Eh? Shrimpy doesn’t like me?” Floyd pouted, You noticed him glance at your mouth breifly. “Shrimpy~ that’s rude.” He’d whine louder, a darker look in his eyes than usual. You had no clue if you had offended him or not that time…

Another time was this happened. It actually happened far more often than you would think or enjoy.

“Shrimpy~” he’d say repeatedly to annoy you while you walked around school. Like when a sibling kept poking at you and claiming they weren’t touching you, but he had his hands behind his head as he followed behind you a bored expression on his face. He had been hanging around you more.

Sadly that meant your friends were less likely to approach you. And if they did it was because they neglected to see the towering eel boy.

“My, My, Floyd had taken quite a liking to you.” Jade stated offhandedly one day. You were at the Mostro Lounge (Azul was tired of Floyd skipping work and offered you free meals to hang out so Floyd would get back to work.)

You glanced at the Eel with a confused look. “What do you mean?” He simply looked down at the small necklace you had made with Floyd’s… gifts of a tooth and scales. I’m your defense they made very nice jewelry. Was it a bit messed up to be wearing some students scale and possibly their tooth? Perhaps… but you were poor and wanted something nice to wear.

With the same odd mysterious smile, Jade was off to serve the next costumer.

So you took it upon yourself to figure out what that meant!

First you went asking around Octavinelle. This was a bad idea because most students avoid you like you were Floyd.

Thankfully you managed to corner one, A trembling student you was glancing behind and around you the whole while you talked to him. "So?" You finally asked, a hand on your hip.

"Uh... What? C-could you repeat the question...?" He finally looked to you.

"Whats up with Floyd!" You finally snapped a bit, with a groan and a small eyeroll you glared at the smallfry.

"A-aren't you his...?"

"What on earth does that mean..." You groaned in annoyance too yourself. You were still, very, extremely lost.

Jade:

Whatever do you mean? You started courting him first if he wasn’t mistaken.

It was a Monday afternoon during autumn you believed, when he was serving you in the Mostro Lounge while you were studying. (They had a exclusive deal that lasted only that day) It was pretty late and so, you, like a very normal human, yawned. “My, If I’m not mistaken this is hardly that time of year.” He replied slyly as he gave you your half off drink.

You just glanced at him in confusion as he bowed and excused himself, ever the polite waiter.

That was… odd.

What was stranger was, now Jade has this habit of gifting you things he found on his hikes. It started with a flower to then a mushroom and for some reason he had gifted you a rock? He said he found it “fascinating” So he gifted it to you.

You didn’t really know either…

This whole issue began to intimidate you. I mean, Jade leech, gifting you things? There had to be some kind of motive behind it! There is always a motive behind the Octa-trios advances.

So, not wanting to owe him anything, you began gifting him things in return. “I found this at the store and thought you might like it.” You’d smile warily and a bit nervously as you extended a hand, in it a Dorsel Fin candy.

He’d smile and accept your gift, you’d breath a sigh of relief and go about your day as usual. At least now you didn’t owe him anything!

Now it became a habit, or a fun little game! Whenever Jade would gift you something, you’d look for something of equal value or better! Something he’d like. You’d attempt to one up him, but it was as if he knew about your game somehow and wasn’t letting you win.

Eventually it started to become something else, he was just... always there now? You'd turn around and almost scream! Because: was he there the whole time?

The worst part? He helped you so much more than half the time you turned around, and he wasn't there, you wished he was. He was making your life harder by not being there!

Here is the thing, you can't just get someone use to having a nice, helpful helping hand who is also attractive and then just take that away! Its inhumane.

You gifted him a terrarium you made yourself.

You didn't know why you did it. Maybe you liked his company and wanted to show your appreciation, maybe it was just because you were fond of him.

It was pretty out of the blue as well. You had been working on it for a week now, it wasn't anything remotely at Jade's own level but it was nice. (It better have been because that hike to gather everything almost killed you.)

Was it worth it? Yes. Seeing his eyes widen slightly before he regained his composure was absolutely worth it. He almost had to cough into his hand in Suprise.

Jade wasn't the most expressive, but you had a few ideas of what his Suprise would be look like. "Do you like it?"

"I do perfect. Thank you."

Note: Jade will never confess. It'll be one of those relationships where you don't know how it started but now your married so... Have fun!

Azul:

He was hopeless. Everybody knew this simple fact, except of course: you.

He was a businessman, not a... romance man!

From the way he'd tug at his tie like it was choking him when you were around, to how flushed he'd get when you even glanced in his direction. This guy was absolutely hopeless.

He actually turned... A very bright red was he turning purple as well? and immediately fixes his posture when you're in the room.

Thankfully, it takes two to tango and you were interested in him as well.

So, yeah, it was up to you to pursue the shady businessman who isn't very shady around you and instead acts like, in his own words, "an idiot."

So, no... he doesn't exactly court you. You court him.

You bring him cool things you find, blabber on about what you like and what you think he would like. He was... very confused and flustered, but happy you were there.

It was only after you took an active role in the relationship that he relaxed slightly and began to play along. Giving gifts back and ranting about the business and some poor unfortunate soul he scammed helped.

As everything began to relax in your guy's relationship. It got too comfortable, well, comfortable wasn't the right word. He was comfortable, you were suffering.

Why wasn't he making a move?! Didn't he like you?

Meanwhile, he was feeling pretty good. Jade and Floyd had gotten to a place where they don't tease him as much about not being able to make a move with you. (He didn't you made all the moves.) And his crush was showering him with attention!

You'd glance at him nervously while you sat at Mostro Lounge. He was counting his contracts. His new ones he had started to reaccumulate.

You physically couldn't hold it back anymore. It had been a week. A whole week of nothing new happening between the two of you. The words fell from your lips fast, like rushing water you tried to hold back but couldn't. It would have always slipped through the cracks in your fingers anyway... So you asked him, the burning question. "I like you. Do you like me...?" You finally blurted out.

"What?" He froze up. His head whipping in your direction he didn't know what to do or say and- he was ruining this wasn't he?

Azul had always been an anxious boy, it helped him- Because despite those anxieties he'd show them. he'd overcome them! He always had. But what do you do exactly when the person your heart has been beating oddly for asked that?

"I- um..." was all you needed before you stood up and left. Trying to fight back the small burn that began in your eyes before you cried. "Wait!" He called out but you had been out the door far too soon to even remotely hear him.

It was... a whole thing. He hated it, you hated it, and despite him refusing to admit it, you both cried over it. You always did love the classic miscommunication trope. But it happened. And frankly, you' prefer it this way in the long run. Because when everything was cleared up...

You got to kiss the octopus boy!

A smile on your face when you pulled away, he stared at you slightly shocked but very happy.

In a side note, after you kissed him, he wondered around aimlessly for a good while before he broke out of whatever spell you put him under. (You're still the magicless perfect of ramshackle...)

___________

Note: Floyd is my favorite. I hope you could tell lol Do I adore Azul? Yes! Was he the last one I wrote so it was kind of rushed and not very long? Also yes... I tried to make it a bit special-er?

[spicybunni]

YANDERE HUSBAND HEADCANONS

Hello Darlings! This is an imagine I had in my drafts about a husband who just loves his wife so much he wants to care for and impregnate her💕 Hope you like it!

WARNINGS ⚠️: NSFW!! (Minors do NOT interact), NSFW descriptions, fem!darling, controlling husband, pregnancy mentions

-You’ve been Married to your husband for a year now and it’s been great. The biggest change was your last name changing to his and having a big rock on your finger. The second was him asking you to be a stay-at-home wife…

-You loved your job but…how could you say no to all your needs being met by a man who worships and adores you? He just wants to take care of you and be comfortable. “Is that so bad of me to want for my little wifey?” He would ask while kissing the knuckle of your hand.

-He told you if you didn’t like the lifestyle that you could go back to working. (As if he was gonna let that happen.) which made you feel better about just being at home all day and spending his money. And also letting you believe you had some control. But of course that wasn’t the end of his plans..

-Before having unprotected sex your husband would always gush about having babies with you and how great of a mother you would be. Your face would turn red at the thought at first but then you brushed it off as your husband having baby fever. It’ll pass right?

-Ha. If only it was a phase.

-This man has been wanting to impregnate you since the first year of you two dating. He loves you so much and think life would be even more amazing if you carried and raised children together. He wants to see your big belly and be there for when you get needy and become oh so helpless with the excessive hormones.

-But despite not using protection you always tracked your period for your health. Your husband started to get into it as well to lookout for your ovulation week. His favorite time of the month.

-He would low key get a little bummed out when you would start your period. But it gave him motivation to try harder…go harder… cum inside you harder…

-Perhaps he could just do that position you liked a few days ago….you were really squeezing him and begging for more.

-Yeah by the way, this man keeps track of what positions are best for making a baby and what makes you cum hard on his cock.

-You are no dummy to his antics. It takes two to tango. You knew your husband wanted a baby and…let’s just say he was very convincing in his actions to want a family.. 👀

-Plus you were married so there really wasn’t anything to be worried about right?

-So why do you shake with anxiety as you look at the test in your hands? The reality of it hits you hard in your bathroom. You feel good but also nervous to tell him. Even though he always claims he’s wanted kids with you just couldn’t help but prepare for the worst. But you also knew this would happen eventually when you let him cum inside you.

-A week prior when you two went out for dinner, your husband was the most possessive man ever. He hated when other men would even get to look at you. His grip was tighter and gaze so dark. On the way home he was holding onto your thigh as if you would fly away.

-That night you had 3 hours of raw heaven. By the end of it you remember being sticky and a bit sex drunk. Not being able to move your legs to your butt feeling sore. Your husband did not waver. You felt so full of him and content you couldn’t even complain.

-“My perfect wife, taking her husband’s load so good…”

-A week and a missed period later your husband in question is downstairs cooking dinner for you both. He figured since youre in the shower (and taking a pregnancy test) that he would surprise you!

-You come down in a bathrobe, hand griping on the tie. “Hey honey?”

-He turns his head to you, immediately becoming worried at your facial expression and appearance. Turning off the stove burners he comes over to you. “What’s up baby? you okay?” He puts a hand on your waist and another resting on your cheek to look at him.

-“I-I’m pregnant..” you stutter out. You back up from him to get his full expression. His face would be surprised but then he would become red in happiness and embrace you. You blinked a few times not saying anything before your husband exclaims with watery eyes “I’m so happy!!”

-You both embraced the news and continued into the night gushing about this new chapter you started. For your husband it was more of a marker that you’re finally all his. And he can’t wait for the little rascals he’ll continue to fill you with.

-That night after dinner you both lay in bed with your husbands hand holding your stomach protectively. You place a hand over his, smiling and drifting to sleep before you heard your husband mumble “Now you’re all mine..” in his sleep…

❤️