#wip: cm

[void-botanist]

angst prompt time

❛ we just can’t seem to get it right, huh? ❜

Hot off the presses, traumatized dudes Sid and Colin break up for a year and then try getting back together and it goes. questionably. Nothing explicit in this one but it's basically Sid getting his buttons unintentionally pressed and writing it gave me anxiety so I am putting it under a cut lmao

---

Colin stopped pacing to press the sides of his hands to his forehead like he was too angry to even look at Sid. Anxiety flooded the pit of Sid’s stomach, overriding his low-level fear with the feeling of bracing for impact.

“Why is this so fucking hard?” Colin’s hands snapped down in front of him for emphasis, and then he started pacing again. “Why is it always like this?”

Sid stared at the floor, squeezing his hands together too hard in his lap. What he wanted to say is that it wouldn’t be like this if Colin wasn’t always like this. So angry. So...scary, honestly. Which felt ridiculous to think when he was a full head taller than Colin, and all Colin ever did to be upsetting was give dirty looks and yell and walk away in the middle of conversations. It shouldn’t hurt the way it did. Colin wasn’t his fucking parents. And yet...he really did sound like them.

Colin paused to look back at him. “Why don’t you ever say anything?” The anger in his voice had turned into a wildness, a desperation, and even worse, an exasperation.

Sid tried to make the words come together honestly. Because it wasn’t true anymore that he didn’t have anything to say—he just couldn’t fathom how to phrase his feelings in a way that wouldn’t make everything worse. No matter what, he wouldn’t be expressing what he really meant, or he would sound too mean, or Colin would jump down his throat about it. Just imagining all the possible results made him want to cry, but he couldn’t even do that, because then he’d also get yelled at. So he stared and felt his breath shudder as he tried to keep himself together. Because he wasn’t allowed to just walk out of the conversation. There was no way he could make his legs do that.

Colin was silent for way too long, but Sid didn’t dare to look at him. Then it would be obvious that there were tears starting to pool in Sid’s eyes despite his best efforts. If Sid just stayed quiet for long enough, this conversion would finally end and he could stop pretending that he didn’t want to bury his face in his pillow and sob.

Colin’s weight settled next to him on the edge of the bed, then a hand appeared on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Colin said, his voice still tense as hell but his tone a lot more gentle.

“Hi,” Sid managed, eyes on the floor.

“Are you okay?”

This would probably be over faster if he just said he was. “No.”

“Well, we have that in common.”

Sid looked over. Colin wasn’t almost crying, but his face was crinkled into something like regret.

“I don’t know why this shit pisses me off so bad,” Colin continued. “I just...I don’t know how to talk to you, it’s just...”

“I don’t know how to talk to you either,” Sid said in that low, neutral voice that always sounded mean and sullen when he used it, but in his body just felt like fear.

“Can you try?” Colin’s sideways look said he wasn’t totally sure he wanted to hear it, but he didn’t say anything else.

Sid weighed his wording options again. “Can you not yell like that?” Something about Colin seemed to pull away and he scrambled to explain. “It just—it stresses me out. It’s hard to talk to somebody if you don’t know whether they’re going to yell.”

“I can try. But you gotta actually talk to me.”

Sid’s heart sank, even though that was the obvious thing for Colin to want. “Okay.”

After a couple seconds of nothing, Colin sighed. “Do you even want to do this? Us?”

Maybe it wasn’t his heart sinking. Maybe it was his entire being. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Because we just can’t seem to get this right,” Colin said without looking at him. “This is at least the second time, the second town, the second planet—and we’re still just...is this even fun anymore? I feel like I’m turning into my fucking mom.”

Sid almost wanted to laugh. “Which one?”

Colin gave him half a smile. “Both of them. So fuck me, I guess.”

---

Pinging the AOM taglist because this happens in the sequel: @vacantgodling @writernopal @multi-lefaiye

To join or leave my taglists, fill out this form.

[mariasont]

hey hey so don’t imagine hotch being obsessed with tugging your pony tail.

don’t think about how when you’re at work, he’d try to be professional but you’re being just a little too flirty, a little too cute, and he just can’t help himself. how he’d walk past your desk, hook a finger around it, and give it a gentle tug.

and how he’d get the tiniest smirk on his face when you turn around all wide-eyed and flustered.

and how he’d say something like, “eyes on your work.”

don’t think about how if you have a habit of puffing out your cheeks when you’re frustrated, especially when hotch is a little stern with you, he’d just walk past you, give your pony tail a yank and say, “quit pouting.”

and how you’d probably pout harder

definitely don't think about how you’d be out somewhere with the team, maybe at a bar, and some guy is talking to you a little too long. you’re not even interested but hotch is watching and waiting until he’s had enough. how he would step in close, fingers curling around the base of your ponytail and gently tug you back against him.

“i think she’s good,” he’d tell the guy. you’d be weak in the knees.

don’t think about how one day you’d be rushing into work, ponytail a little messy and he notices. it would be early, just the two of you and he wouldn’t say a word, just stands behind you, smooths a hand over your head and redoes your ponytail. and how when he’s done he’d let the ends of it slip through his fingers before pulling it.

“better.” and how he’d just walk off like it didn’t completely derail your morning.

AND FOR SURE DO NOT THINK about how he’d have you in his lap every evening, one hand gripping your ponytail to keep you from going anywhere, from looking anywhere but him.

[spiderziege]

no art atm because half my day is spend on uni work and the other half on my new obsession that is mosaic crochet

[aa-draws]

WIP of the BAU team as little dolls :>

I already did Spencer and I wanted to draw more of the squad in that style (I'll draw more of the other main characters soon,,,, Just did the usual 7 first. I'm just one person after all, huhu)

I'm planning to make these as stickers or even acrylic charms for myself :D

[ratatoastwrites]

i’m currently working on a request, but after i post that, i already have two fics planned 🥸

so here’s a little sneak peek for you guys 🧚‍♀️

they’re both about halfway done, so i might have to change/add to the cws a little, but eek! 🐁 so fun! ✨

these might be the most self-indulgent fics i’ve ever written (so far) lol, but i hope you guys will like them 🧚‍♀️💕

[mblue-art]

ptide

[yararts]

Defenitly not done with Dilla and Caleb adopting Miles/Spider in our Avatar AU! 💙💙

I have tons of drawings for the sweet family and more once I'm finished with my studies, this is one of the sketches ^^

And yes, soon baby Miles will have a brother too 💙

[lovelooksgudonu]

old asami doodle

[blackbird-brewster]

I was writing fanfic on my phone all the way up until they put me under for surgery earlier 🫡 (Surgery went well!)

Hoping to get Chapter 9 of All This Woman posted later this week.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

All This Woman

Ships: Tara/Penelope, Tara/Emily

Rated: E | WC: 51,000+ (WIP)

Summary:

Tara has found herself in a sort of 'situationship' with Penelope. They're not dating, but they're also not-not dating. After months of this routine, Penelope finally decides to address the sexual tension, by undressing Tara.

There might be a chance of making their relationship work, they just need to work out a few kinks first.

[Set in Season 11]

[lukiechino]

Cardinal Broach

Spencer Reid x Reader

An unfinished wip I might continue if I get the inspiration back. Kinda based on the S13 E19, Ex Parte.

“Which color tells my mom I’m super-uber excited and not dreading having lunch with her?” I asked Spencer, showing him two outfits; one was a floral shirt paired with dark green pants and the other was a yellow and orange stripped pants with a white blouse. “Or should I go with my formal suit that I got for my friend’s wedding?”

Spencer locked up from his book on Edgar Allen Poe to examine the outfits with squinted eyes. “Well, if you want to appear excited, it’d be better to wear saturated, bright colors, since the brain’s pituitary and pineal glands are stimulated by light and that regulates more serotonin,” he said, knocking out the floral outfit. “But yellow can cause anxiety and shorts the temper of those looking at it.” So the other outfit was a no-go too.

“So the wedding suit?” I asked, tossing the outfits on a chair while I sat sown beside him with a sigh. “Getting ready to have lunch with my mom shouldn’t be this hard.”

“The wedding suit might make it appear you’re not being open or comfortable with your mom,” Spencer said. I groaned, before grabbing his arm and tugging him to the bedroom.

“C’mon, help me pick an outfit, Mr. Profiler.” Spencer put his book aside with a chuckle and let me pull him to my closet—stuffed full of bright patterned shirts and dresses.

“To start; what color should I wear?” I asked, sitting him down on the edge of the bed, in front of the closet.

“Orange or a bright teal would be good since Orange is the middle ground between yellow—which is a cheerful color—and red—which is an attentive color,” Spencer said. I grabbed a sleek button-up with orange flowers, a loose pastel orange top, a striped orange shirt, then a striking orange blazer.

“But it shouldn’t be overly formal or else you might be perceived as arrogant or dispassionate.” I threw out the floral shirt. “But it shouldn’t be too casual or she might think you didn’t put any thought into the outfit.” Then I threw out the pastel top.

“And,” I said before he could say anything else. “The resteurant we’re going is super duper fancy, and fancy places always have the air conditioning cranked to the max.” I said, tossing the thin striped shirt—I wasn’t about to bother finding the perfect coat for the shirt.

I hung the blazer on my doorknob, turning to my dresser. “Now I just gotta find a shirt and pants—do you think a white button-up and some brown pants will be okay?” I didn’t wait for Spencer’s response as I dug through my drawers.

“I think your mom will just be satisfied with you showing up,” Spencer said, taking the white shirt from me and pulling it over the ironing board.

“Thank you,” I said as pulled my legs through the tight brown pants on the edge of the bed. Spencer hummed as he ironed the shirt—leaving it as smooth as if it just came from the dry cleaners. “What jewelry should I go with?” I asked as I buttoned up my shirt.

Spencer, who sat on the edge with his book, pursed his lips in thought for a moment. “Didn’t your mom give you a gold cardinal brooch?”

“That’s perfect!” I gasped, hurrying to one of my jewelry boxes stuffed into my nightstand. “Then I can wear my gold hanging earrings…” I hurriedly clipped on all my jewelry and grabbed my purse.

“Love you,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek. “And thank you so much.”

“Be careful,” Spencer said, a small smile on his face as I left the room. I looked back at him smile. Even though he never said it, I liked to assume “be careful” was just his way of saying “I love you”.

“Stay safe at work, and call me if you got an away case, please,” I said, not wanting a repeat last week, where I came back to an empty home only to find out Spencer was all the way in California.

“I will,” he assured, sparing me one last smile before I left the apartment.

The resturant, as I predicted, felt as cold as a Alaskan winter night. I pulled my blazer closer to me as I wove through cloth table scattered about the dimly lit dining room until I found my mom sitting at a booth against the wall.

She was squinting at the drinks menu when she saw me and gasped. Mom stood up and hurriedly brought me into a bone crushing hug. “I missed you so so much, sweetie,” my mom whispered in my ear while her arms wrapped around me tightly. “Oh how have you been?”

“Good,” I said, awkwardly scooting into the booth. “Um, how’re you? And dad? And…” I wanted to avoid bringing up the topic of my brother so soon. “…everyone else?”

“Me and your dad are doing great. He’s still thriving in retirement, even picked up growing his own tomatoes,” Mom said. I scrunched up my face at the mention of the disgusting fruit. “Oh trust me, I know,” she chuckled.

A waiter strode over, smiling politely at me and Mom. “Hello, my name is Issac. Can I get you two lovely ladies started off with something to drink?” He asked, his attention immediately turning to me. My mom threw me a look that I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at.

“I’ll have water with lemon,” my mom said.

“Diet Dr. Pepper for me.” The waiter nodded curtly as he scribbled down our orders, gracefully walking off. My mom grinned at me and I sighed. “What?” I whispered.

“He’s cute,” my mom said, wiggling her eye brows. I rolled my eyes, leaning back. In her defense, she didn’t know I was dating anyone. But still, her desperation for me to find someone to get married to would always be uncomfortable.

“He is,” I said, trying to change the subject quickly. “What are you planning on getting?” I looked over the menu stuffed full of expensive Italian dishes, going down a list of pastas.

“Oh I don’t know, I might just go the basic route of spaghetti and meatballs,” Mom hummed. “What about you?”

“I might get this tortellini plate,” I said. “But switch the cheese ones with mushroom ones.” Mom pursed her lips, squinting at the menu.

“Now I don’t know what to get…it all sounds so good…”

I smiled, before Issac came over and slid our drinks in front of us alongside a small basket of lightly salted breadsticks. I took a deep breath, savoring the warmth and the fresh salty smell of the bread.

“You two ready to order?” Issac asked, pulling his miniature notepad out his apron. I looked at my mom, who just gestured for me to go first while she continued to look over the menu.

“Well, I’ll have the Tortellini plate,” I said, smiling up at Issac. “But can you swap out the cheese Tortellini with the mushroom ones?”

“Of course,” he answered, turning to my mom. “And you, ma’am?” My mom gave the menu one last look over before nodding.

“I’ll have the…Bombolotti all’Amatriciana,” my mom said slowly, trying her best to pronounce the dish.

“Two wonderful choices,” Issac said as he took up the menus. “Especially the Tortellini. The mushroom one is my favorite,” he chuckled, slipping some curly blond hair behind his ear.

As Issac walked off, my mom swatted my arm with a grin. “He’s into you.”

“Or he’s just being polite,” I said, taking a drink of my soda. “And besides, he’s not my type.”

“Oh and what would that type be?” My mom asked, leaning forward on her elbow.

I sighed. “I’m just not gonna date right now.”

“Why?” My mom asked, pursing her lips as she sipped on her water. “I was already married and had a kid at your age.”

“Mom, that was you, I’m not ready for that type of…stuff. I may not ever be ready.”

“Oh please, I need a grandkid,” my mom sighed. I pursed my lips and looked to the side, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Why don’t you pressure Jacob into having a kid this much?” I muttered, leaning back against the cushioned seat.

“This isn’t about Jacob, it’s about you,” Mom said, making me scoff. “Way to avoid the question,” I wanted to say, but I kept my mouth shut. “And at least he’s in a relationship—“

“I’m in a relationship,” I finally said.

“What—since when?” My mom asked.

I sighed. “Almost a year.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to. Can’t you accept the fact not everything in my life is your business?” I questioned, leaning onto my elbows as I stared at her.

“I’m your mother—you should at least tell me when you’re dating someone,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you want to?” She was talking like I was crazy and that only made me angrier.

Thankfully, Issac came by with two large plates in hand. He glanced between us and could tell we were in the middle of a quiet argument, so he didn’t linger, and just slid the food in front of us.

As soon as he walked away I leaned over my plate and whispered, “because I didn’t want you to pressure him like you do to me.”

“Don’t be so sensitive,” my mom said, unwrapping the napkin around her utensils. She plunged her fork into the pasta and ate her food as she glared at her plate. “I want to meet him,” she finally said after a moment of silence.

“When he wants to meet you, he will.” I just focused on my food, savoring the mushroom-stuffed pasta. It was better than focusing on my fuming mother, who gripped her fork until her knuckles turned white.

“And here I thought you could at least give me a peaceful lunch—guess I was wrong,” Mom huffed.

“I’m tryin—“

I couldn’t finished before screaming erupted from all around of us—followed by the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

[thlayli-ra]

Would anybody like a snippet from my Young! Punk (valetverse au) WIP? 🥺👉👈

(TW - Colt Cabana is in it too)

He'd never seen such a dirty kid in all his life. Wearing over-sized, baggy jeans with tattered hems and torn knees, the light flickering off a metal chain that snaked out of his back pocket to clip onto his front belt loop. Over his faded band tee, he wore a black bomber jacket with red tartan lining coated in an assortment of embroidered patches and badges emblazoned with band logos and names, the majority of which Colt had never heard of before, each one lovingly hand-stitched onto the worn fabric.

Looking further up, Colt found himself following the sharp line of the young valet's jaw, the small patch of stubble on his chin, the long slender nose. He had a mop of ratty hair hanging from his crown, bleached blonde but with dark roots showing. And piercings. Several piercings, in fact. Both ears, his bottom lip, and he was sure he spied a flash of metal inside the kid's mouth too.

While he studied the stranger, his gaze suddenly landed on the other man's eyes. They were staring right at him. Intense, sharp. Intelligent. Colt faltered under their lens.

'You got a name, kid?' the valet asked.

'Uh yeah, it's Colt-, no wait, Scott-'

'Well which is it? Colt or Scott?'

'It's uh, well actually it's-'

'Fine, I'll choose,' the valet sighed with a roll of his eyes. 'Colt, it is.'

Somehow, he didn't mind that. Not when this kid said it. 'And uh... what's your name?'

The valet gave a lop-sided grin, his hazel eyes twinkling. 'Name's Punk,' he said.

[weirdlybeans]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HOTCH!!!!

[ssahotchnerr]

you know something no one ever talks about is the fact that jessica may have kids of her own??

in 5x10 there’s that mention jack’s with his cousins — they can’t be sean’s — aaron’s only sibling. it was never mentioned haley had any other siblings rather than jessica, so any cousins would most likely be her children. unless it’s like his second or third cousins or whatnot.

but regardless i love the fact that this means whenever jack is with her, more often than not, he’s also with his cousins 🥹

[dilf-in-peril]

I was almost done with this guy over a year ago but I didn't figure out how to make the chain marks look good so I gave up on it. Might as well share this now. It's a linocut but this print is overwatered. I never managed to replicate this effect again.

[fantasticalleigh]

late night WIP

(this is (sadly) not an nsfw thing)

[grain-of-sando]

ohmygod im midway thru finals week AND writing a new fic on the side when suddenly my macbook keyboard decided to BREAK ಥ_ಥ so in the meantime heres a lil cm punk wip while i run to my nearest apple store!!!!!!!!

You were completely and utterly hopeless. I mean, it’s one thing to innocently admire your best friend and take notice of their looks. You’re not blind! If a friend looks good, it’d hurt not to take note of that, right? Granted, that might just be what you’re telling yourself, because right now, as you stare at your utterly lost expression in the water-droplet-stained mirror, all you can think about is how CM Punk’s oh-so-cute expression would look after kissing him silly. Okay, backtrack. Don’t start encouraging yourself. These thoughts are just from pure boredom. He would never think of you that way, and it’d be better if you didn't entertain the thought of liking him that way, either. Not only is he your best friend, but he’s your coworker; dating him would be a horrible idea! You think. Groaning, you scrub your face harder and shut the faucet off. You snatch a paper towel and blot the water off your face. You don’t look as disheveled as you feel inside. Small wins. This crush kind of came out of nowhere. One second you’re having lunch with him and talking to him about the new show you’re hate-watching, and the next you’re feeling your heart leap out of your chest over him pinning you to the ground during a spar match. One of his arms flexing to grab one of your legs up and the other spreading across your body to keep you in place, all while he has the most focused expression of his life… Damn it. You are really, really in love with your best friend.

guys im so srs my k key doesnt work the accessibility keyboard function is all i have left. pls pray for me but mostly my macbook