jess ✮

diehard hozier fan sydcarmy truther

[ineedhands]

“ᴴᵉᵃᵛᵉⁿ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ.”

📍welcome to my blog!

jess / 18 / ENFJ / ♎︎︎ / she

divider creds: @/saradika-graphics

gradient text tutorial here!

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

-> posts on my blog will include content about things like:

જ⁀➴ SERIES/FILMS:

⚘ criminal minds

⚘ the bear

⚘ the hunger games

⚘ the walking dead

જ⁀➴ VIDEO GAMES (well, some of the many)

⚘ call of duty

⚘ red dead redemption

⚘ resident evil

⚘ god of war

⚘ the last of us

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

[capricornluna-deactivated201810]

this blog hates donald trump

[bootlegramdomneess]

You know what would've made The Bear really, really good if they just had Sydney and Carmen fucking. just smut in between good storytelling. like heated rivalry. I know the writers made it hard not to make it "that kind of show." But no one cares. we wanted fucking. I'm not speaking for myself.

[cinnamunson]

I need to wife him up (special agent dale cooper)

[vintage-tigre]

[enchantedbook]

'Night Hunter' by Vitali Skvorkin.

[whisperedmeg]

pHUNNY BUSINESS ༄ s. reid x reader

summary: spencer meets your skincare shelf, fusses about acids and pH, and wears a sheet mask just to make you smile. genre: fluff word count: 0.6k tags/warnings: none really! just some sweet early relationship fluff, chronically worried boyfriend spencer, nerdy skincare talk, no use of y/n. see here for the sheet mask vibes. title is supposed to be a pun (funny + pH lol) pls laugh or else it’ll hurt my feelings thank u prompt: here a/n: this fic was written as part of my 1k celebration event! hope you enjoy xo 😚

main event post ♡ whisper week masterlist

The first time Spencer meets your skincare collection, he looks… alarmed, to say the least.

“Glycolic acid,” he reads as he picks up a dropper bottle, glasses sliding down his nose. “That’s an alpha hydroxy acid, which increases cell turnover. Potentially irritating if combined with a retinoid. You’re not, right?”

You dot serum on your cheeks. “Not tonight, Doc. I alternate nights with my retinol. Don’t worry.”

He nods, still scanning. “Just… you have to protect your acid mantle, that’s all. Skin naturally sits around a pH of 5, and any extremes can mess with your barrier.”

“Relax,” you say, grinning. “I keep it balanced. I also wear SPF during the day religiously, so don’t get all concerned about photosensitivity.”

He smiles despite himself and reaches for the next bottle. “Niacinamide — vitamin B3. Good for improving texture and reducing inflammation.” He sets it down carefully, then freezes at the tube behind it. “Benzoyl peroxide… you keep that far from the retinol too, right? They don’t play well together.”

“I use it for spot treatment only,” you say, flicking water at him. “And never at the same time as retinol, you big worrier.”

He relaxes a millimeter then tips your moisturizer jar toward the light, reading off a few of the more complex ingredients under his breath before looking up at you again. “This is packed with ceramides and occlusives, which can reduce transepidermal water loss, and—”

“Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“You’re adorable,” you say, and he turns pink in the mirror. “But I knew that already.”

“I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I realize I must sound alarmist, and you clearly know what you’re doing. I just… like you. And your epidermis. I can’t help but worry.”

“Apology denied, because it’s unnecessary. I think you’re being sweet. But I promise, no damage will come to my epidermis by my own hand.”

He exhales with relief, then raises his eyebrows as you pull two sheet masks from a drawer and present them to him. “Do you want the koala or the panda?”

His eyes widen. “You can’t actually want me to—” He clears his throat when he realizes you are, indeed, deathly serious. “I’ll… take the panda.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you giggle, pushing his curls back from his forehead with a fuzzy headband. He doesn’t protest — not that you give him much of a chance to, anyway.

Three minutes later you’re both flat on the bed, faces covered in ridiculous sheet masks. He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes max, then we’re taking these things off.”

“Understood, doc,” you murmur, poking his panda nose. “How do I look?”

He turns his head on the pillow to consider you. “Like the cutest marsupial I’ve ever dated.”

You giggle. “Oh, so there’ve been other koala-faced women before me?”

He reaches over and laces your fingers. “I was kidding, honey.”

Silence stretches over you in the easiest of ways, and Spencer squeezes your hand once, shy and sure.

“You really were worried about my moisture barrier, weren’t you?” you ask softly.

“I was,” he admits. “Plus, I’ve never seen your full night routine like this before. I like it, though.”

You roll on your side to face him. “It’s mostly just skincare and flossing.”

“I’m a big proponent of both of those things,” he says, utterly sincere, and you giggle.

Spencer’s watch timer beeps. You peel off your mask first, then his, and he watches as you pat in the extra serum.

“Final step in the routine,” you announce, slicking on lip balm, “is a kiss goodnight.”

“You can’t apply an occlusive to your lips and then—” he starts, then stops when you kiss him anyway. He smiles into it, stunned and stupid.

“For the record,” he murmurs once you pull away, “I think your routine is perfect.”

“And I think you’re very, very cute in a panda mask,” you whisper, reaching up to your lamp and flicking off the light.

ᝰ.ᐟ

PSA: likes do very little for promoting posts on tumblr! if you'd like to support a fic, please reblog!

this ficlet was written for my whisper week 1k celebration event! follow along from September 7-13 for more 🫶🏼

[ineedhands]

so cute what the heeeeelllll

[hartleychristopher]

Reader yapping to Chris before thinking that shes weird and stops.. before Chris tells reader to continue since he's like.. super interested?? Mostly fluff :3 🎲

The subject of yap is up to you! Or it could be Chris be the one yapping!

Pairing: chris x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

Warnings: none really! Just fluff 💕

A/N: letting me pick the subject of yap?? Hehe this one is verrryyy self indulgent. You’ll see why lol

You’re sitting on the couch together, knees tucked up, phone in your hands as you talk, words tumbling out faster the longer you go. It starts innocently enough, something about thrift stores and antique malls, then it snowballs. Now, you’re mid-sentence, gesturing with your hands:

“And okay, there’s this doll—from 1965. Hasbro made her, she’s called Little Miss No Name and she’s like—” you laugh softly, a little breathless, “—she’s kind of tragic? But in a beautiful way?”

Chris leaned back beside you, arm slung over the back of the couch, watching you with that focused, gentle attention he gives when he’s really listening. His glasses catch the light when he tilts his head.

You keep going, encouraged by his lack of interruption.

“She was marketed as this sad orphan doll—in desperate need of a mother? Which was the marketing ploy I guess?? Like, the little girl was guilted into being her…child-mother? which is… wild, but her face—she has these huge eyes and this little teardrop and she’s wearing this like, burlap sack dress? And she’s just… I don’t know, so ugly in an adorable way”

You unlock your phone and swipe quickly. “Okay, wait, I have a screenshot of an eBay listing—”

You hold your phone to him so he can see.

The second Chris sees the screen, his body reacts before his brain can stop it. His shoulders jerk back a fraction, lips parting in a silent, tiny almost-gasp, and his eyes widen behind his glasses. It’s quick, barely there, but it happens.

You see it before he corrects, plastering a (pained) smile on his face a little too late.

Your stomach drops.

“Oh.” You pull the phone back instantly, cheeks heating with embarrassment. “Sorry—she’s creepy. I know most people hate dolls already and she’s—that was probably— yeah, nevermind—” you laugh, but it’s weak now. Your eyes drop to your lap, thumbs fidgeting with the edge of your phone case. “I know she’s creepy. You don’t have to pretend—”

“No— hey, no, wait—” Chris straightens immediately, panic flashing across his face like he’s afraid he just stepped on something fragile. he turns toward you fully now, one knee angling in your direction. “Please don’t stop. I didn’t mean—”

He rubs the back of his neck, ears turning pink with panic.

“I just—her eyes surprised me,” he admits quickly, earnest to the point of pain. “Like, they’re… very powerful eyes. I was not… prepared.”

that gets a tiny smile out of you despite yourself.

“They are intense,” you mumble.

“But that’s kind of cool,” he continues, warming up, voice soft but enthusiastic now that he’s back on solid ground. “Like, she looks like she’s staring into your soul… She’s got lore. I respect dolls with lore.”

You glance up at him, uncertain. Your eyes searching his for any trace of mockery—you don’t find it.

“really?” You ask softly.

“Yeah,” he nods immediately. “I mean, you were talking about her like she’s this little forgotten piece of sadness capitalism, which is honestly fascinating.” he gestures vaguely. “Also you were smiling the whole time, which—I like when you do that” he adds softer.

Your heart does a stupid little flip

“And,” he adds, leaning closer to peek at the screen again, braver now, “okay yeah, she’s a little… spooky. but in a cool way—she’s sort of… hauntingly beautiful” he smiles, a little proud of himself for his description of her.

You huff a laugh.

“She’s really expensive now,” you say quietly, as if testing whether it’s still safe to talk. “Like, people want hundreds for her. Which is insane because she only cost like $6 in ‘65–and if you can believe it, she didn’t sell very well originally—“

Chris grins, relieved you’re opening back up, and nudges your knee with his own. “No way. Really?” He teases softly.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Really.”

He pauses for a second, smiling at you softly. “I like hearing about the stuff you care about. Even the weird stuff—especially the weird stuff.”

The word weird lands gently this time, like something cherished instead of judged.

So you show him the picture again. This time he studies it properly, squinting a little, his head tilted thoughtfully.

“…Okay,” he admits. “yeah she’s definitely watching me. But I get it now.” His arm curls affectionately around your shoulders, pulling you and Little Miss No Name (staring at him from your phone screen), closer to him.

<3

TW: for people that are creeped out by dolls! Pic of Little Miss No Name below for reference!

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A /N again: I collect dolls, she’s one of my dream dolls… one day I’ll have her *clenches fist*

chris taglist: @fritzhardt @avwade69 @maiiuelle @avrells @fordthegamelord819 @xoxocher @sweetcalebb @z0mb1epuzzy @dnpo1son @k4sey1st @always-andromeda @eclipse134 @childrenoftheuniecorn

[ineedhands]

i love chris hartley that’s bae

[ineedhands]

the concept of being anti bush is much like being a trump supporter because it feels politically and conservatively performative and it’s mostly men who perpetuate the idea.

[ineedhands]

nothin will empower me more than calling my male friends the most feminine names ever like yes! that’s my princess!

[deansdeer]

Hi really quickly sorry

FUCK TRUMP

FUCK ICE

FUCK FASCISTS

FUCK ISREAL

FREE PALESTINE

FREE THE CONGO

FREE SUDAN

I LOVE IMMIGRANTS

I LOVE QUEER PEOPLE

I LOVE PEOPLE OF COLOR

HUMAN RIGHTS ARE BASIC RIGHTS

If you support ice, support the genocide, racist, homophobic, maga, or a nazi.

THEN YOU ARE NOT WELCOME ON THIS BLOG.

This isn’t a matter of “opinion” it’s a matter of are you a fascist or are you normal

[aerishey]

I can't get over how soft Sydney's voice gets sometimes when she's talking to Carmy. Like, in 3x07 the contrast of how she addresses Marcus and Carmy is so telling. She answers Marcus with her regular voice, like ugh, Wednesdays, uh no 😩 then in a second, she changes to this angelic, gentle voice, "What about you, your answer?" 😇 same in the wedding episode.

And the phone call in 4x06? I didn't put the whole thing here, but she called him, she told him her dad is okay, then she just... lingers on the line with him? Carmy even asks her if she needs anything, and she's like no, and still she just stay with him in the call? No thoughts, no anything, nu hurry, no urgency, just to be with him for a moment?? Voice so gentle and soft it breaks my heart.

Sydney loves this man so much.

[ineedhands]

baes

[ineedhands]

guys why the HELL is nobody writing about john wick these days. that man is sooooooooooo fine

[eternallyniah]

Every time I see a big tall guy I just think damn I need that

[ineedhands]

i’m a simple girl xxx

[eternallyniah]

maybe i'm just overly horny

[ineedhands]

amen

[esote-rika]

ANGELS IN THE NEW AGE MASTERLIST

1920s AU. Detective!Reid x Flapper!Reader

New York, 1926. Spencer Reid. A private detective whose genius precedes him, with a past that refuses to let him rest. He views the city as a site for play, knows the law from the inside out, and treats everything as a puzzle to be solved.  Enter you, the biggest puzzle he’s encountered yet.  Beneath the bobbed hair and short dresses hides a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. You know which speakeasies water their cocktails and can weave in and out of New York City’s back alleys better than he can. After one too many encounters, the two of you team up. Together, you run a discreet investigation office nestled within a private library. New York is unforgiving to angels and criminals alike, but perhaps it’s easier to stand against this formidable city when you have company. Even if that company consists of a grizzled detective, and a carefree flapper.      General Contents: 1920s AU, post-prison Spencer age and personality wise, fem!reader, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, descriptions of crime and violence, probably period inaccurate details, (bear with me, I can only research so much lol). Be sure to check individual chapters for more specific tags.

MASTERLIST

COMING SOON...

extras:

coming soon...

a/n: this is NOT a series in the traditional sense, just a semi-connected alternate universe. my brain is a very fickle thing and latches onto ideas like moth to a flame. this one is actually from last year lol. title from lana del rey's young and beautiful. no taglist but you can follow/check out #flapper!reader for updates and fics

[ineedhands]

oh my god this is SICKENING

[ineedhands]

if abby anderson has no defenders just know im ashes sat in an urn somewhere