#third-person.

[rainintheevening]

Enjoyed everyone's comments on the last one so much, here's another.

[evemarielouis]

reid’s biggest problem with profiling isil is that he has no interest in knowing more. boy wonder only sees the surface in which she swims easily, calls it lake & is done with it. but there drowns his analysis, for one cannot read a book that has yet to be opened. the story hasn’t unfolded, fingers haven’t cornered the pages, lines haven’t been caressed in horror or in awe. only juno seems to have caught glimpses of her, but these too were watered down by lust & spit. cool girl, pretty girl, ditzy girl. she is a good time with a game face that never turns off. when they go out, she is with them, she gets them the good table & the right kind of cocktail. she introduces them to the barman, even though she’s been in the city for less time than most of them. and once the party is going & bonds are being weaved, one drunk confession at a time, they fail to notice that the girl is already long gone. ditzy girl, pretty girl, cool girl. already swallowed up by the crowd, buried between bodies of faceless companions. she is oh so fickle, barely a girl, so terrified of being bound that she can be seen gnawing at the rope holding them all together. calls it a hanged man’s rope, when truly it is only a necklace, one that most call family.

perhaps if reid had paid more attention to the whispers that have been going around the office, he would known that belonging to a family is of no interest for the girl who saw her mother murder each and every member of her cursed tribe. families are easy wounds to probe & she is not keen on repeating the process. oh, she remembers : even as a child, she understood that bodies were sacrificed at the altar of a wicked god and that her mother would blame her for it. rossi told hotch early on ; that girl is something else. he took it as a warning for her personality. in truth, it had and still has more to do with her abilities : it is that same shapeshifting trick that got her out of the village. visage bleeding from rock-inflicted wounds, “i’ll draw the devil’s mark on ya. ugly ugly daughter o’ mine.” walking across the soil that saw her bleed twice ; once as a girl & once as a corpse. there, the child attempted to make a promise ; found ungodly ways to keep it. child became woman and found that sex tastes like love if you keep it sweet & short. woman found that less personality means less affection, and so she became it ; cool girl, pretty girl, ditzy girl. never the one you’d imagine at the altar, never the one you’d find to symbolize home. oh, what terrible choices did she make, just so she wouldn’t suffer the same loss twice. but even that was not enough, for malborne’s body found its way to a casket and ishtar discovered that grief still tasted the same way as it did all these years ago : muddy & acrid. the lord god formed the man of dust from the ground & breathed into his nostrils the breath of life – ishtar throwed up all that dirt on her way out of the cemetery and vowed to never endure the same enchantment again.

perhaps if reid had paid more attention, he would have realized that she wants to replace him even less that he himself wants her to. all she desires is to get her hands on them so that she can learn the angles & curves of their beings. an easy way to learn how to make clay dolls of her memories, so that wherever she goes next she won’t have to go alone. it is difficult to be a living corpse. one must fill oneself to the rim with moments. only heavy memories keep you tethered – and ditzy girls aren’t the kind to get heavy.  

for the gift of her full attention, juno gets a toothy grin that curves around the pen. it is not rare for ishtar to suggest games ; riddles & dares that usually do not warrant any attention from the team. in quite the same manner as reid’s tangents, ishtar’s attempts at distraction tend to remain ignored. the few who play (penelope, derek, sometimes juno) usually get something for their gracious participation. be it files off their shoulders, gifts sent to their houses, or other gracious acts of service that remain anonymous, all is good as long as it gives them pleasure. her last deed was paying a month worth of penelope’s favorite treats & having them delivered to her house. the dare had been worth it : whatever she said in that phone got derek morgan so hot and bothered that he wasn't quick enough to avoid ishtar’s phone as she was taking pictures. with that kind of leverage on her phone, she was bound to get a few favours for the next month at least. so yes, ishtar was mischievous, but she was fair : and if juno was willing to play, then ishtar would make sure that there was something to win.

[bioethicists]

i'm just thinking abt how many providers i've had who heard my story abt psychiatric abuse + immediately individualized it. "oh, you're so smart + kind+ obviously sane! you didn't deserve that! i can't believe they gave you that diagnosis when you're obviously not like that! they shouldn't have treated u like that when all you did was xyz! they shouldn't have assumed you were crazy like that!"

there is always a third person haunting this interaction- the patient who does deserve that, who is "actually" that evilscary diagnosis, who did Have To be treated like that. if i want to soak up the affirmations of these providers, i must be careful to never become this third person. i must affirm myself by setting myself apart from her- i did not deserve to be treated like that because i am not like that.

i reject this. not only was i like that, she + everyone else like that deserve everything i deserve. they are my siblings + my friends + my lovers. i do not need to cut them out of me to believe i deserved better. i refuse to comfort myself through the lens of someone else's dehumanization. the tragedy is not that psychiatric violence was applied to someone who not insane enough to warrant it. the tragedy is the violence.

[feluka]

Friends you might wanna turn off anons for a little bit. Somebody is mass sending a graphic and disturbing ask to pro Palestine bloggers.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heh...Literally nothing personal, kid.

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[nicecrumbart]

ur art is sooo pretty to look at :3 could i mayhaps request a desert of the duo,,, if ud like to,,,

Idk what scars thinking about here but it doesn't seem very funtimeswithscar 😔

And thank youuu, finally got an excuse to draw desert duo hehe

[dreamishsara-art]

They see right through me /Always an Angel, Never a God

[madootles]

happy october third!

[arcadebroke]

[bea-the-cool-guy]

Silly comic for a silly contest which I am definitely only somewhat invested in

It would be so funny if error lost again, for the fourth time XD

[buggachat]

yes the peacock miraculous obviously needs to be felix's and is extremely significant to him and there's so much poetry about the fact that he is the holder of the very miraculous that created him and him being the holder of it is deeply entrenched into the plot. HOWEVER.

sometimes i miss the cat!adrien vs dog!felix dynamic. because it was really fucking funny

[aseriesofratherfortunateevents]

HRT isn't enough this one needs to be encased in porcelain and silk

[solacebean]

The Goat

[dinogoofymutated]

Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.

Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?

It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏

Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader

YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.

TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.

-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!

"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.

"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.

Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.

"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.

"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.

"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.

"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.

"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.

The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.

Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your chest. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.

"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.

"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.

"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4 (soon))

[payasita]

coworker asks "hey how are u" and I give them the casual "I'm alright, how are you" and they decide to be cheeky and give me the "just alright? Not excellent? Hahaha" and in my head my response is "I am on day four of my full time week, do you know how big the world is? It is vast and beautiful and that's because Hell is small. If damnation comes for us both it will be a cage" but what I tell them is "it's friday, Carl"