#crim

[vivziepoparchives]

Animation from Oops posted to whitney8walters' isntagram September 9, 2023.

[source]

[twilightofthesandwiches]

[goannafr]

Goanna & Pheel collab....................2!!!!!!

Crim and Roundsey gal pals :3

Just like the last one, Pheel did the adorable drawing, and I coloured it in :D Pheel's drawings are so fun to colour hehehe

[halcyyan]

It is not so easy to mend a soul.

My comic for the Jade Reverie Xianxia Zine! I had the pleasure of borrowing artist Mushen’s character for this collaboration, and I think they got along just fine.

Leftover sales are up! Come get a copy or some sweet swag if you haven’t already

[songfawn]

muzzling the hound

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Crim; “draft stud”. content notes: omegaverse, mating cycles/in heat, family-planning via attempting to recruit a crime lord who is legally your dead-brother-by-adoption to knock up your best (boy)friend, and Tim Drake’s total lack of respect for both personal boundaries and Jason’s impending migraine, which lbr, at this point probably deserves its own character tag. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim is right, they do not have the time to cover whatever the fucking fuck is wrong with the little freak, right now or ever. Ra's al Ghul and Vandal Savage don't have that kind of time. Fucking Doctor Fate doesn't have that kind of time!

"I fucking hate your feathered ass," Jason says instead of all that, because that's further bullshit that he doesn't have time for right now, given the unfortunate next step in this objectively-insane plan of his objectively-insane ripoff of a replacement/fake-but-technically-it's-legal shitty little brother's. Said next step being, extremely unfortunately: "Lead the way, Voyage of the Dawn Treader."

"You're going to run out of third installments to movie series eventually, you know," Tim says. "At least over the course of a full heat, if nothing else." Jason just bares his teeth in a smirk at him before slipping his helmet back on.

"Fucking try me, Mockingjay," he says, immediately resolved to exhaust the entire film industry just to be a pill about it.

Anyway, it's a thought exercise, and Jason's gonna need a few dozen of those to fall back on so he can not think about the invulnerable and insatiable touch-based telekinetic omega that looks like goddamn Superboy looks, can't control his super-sense of touch in heat, and likes being called a bitch being grateful to him for fucking him raw. Because if he does not have any thought exercises to fall back on, he is not going to have any chance of putting in a respectable performance for said invulnerable and insatiable touch-based telekinetic omega.

[matveytale]

👀🔥15 FAVOURITE FOLLOWING🔥👀

LET'S GO! 10 FOLLOWING WITH CHRISTMAS! 😭✨♥️

Bane belongs to @stellaghost

Vanity L belongs to @king-boss-7671

Yugo belongs to @luvyourself2hell

Soulfell belongs to @lady-inkmare

Gear belongs to @marlydx

Soulswap belongs to @ruin--eclipse

Silme belongs to @hypnoasis19

Midnight belongs to @deltarana44

Crim belongs to @mullyume

Miscode belongs to @ask-miscode

AND I LOVE OC FOR 5 MOOTS!!! 😭♥️😈

Faker belongs to @servurcortado

Aurora belongs to @aurora-starlight-silly

Zay belongs to @oneeqaisara

Light belongs to @burnedtoast-cb

Lunar belongs to @reyyyt

[little-jana]

"Steady Hands"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst (hurt/comfort)

Words: 2k

Warnings: depictions of a panic attack, anxiety, use of Y/N, can be read as friend!Spencer

Summary: Spencer helps you through a panic attack.

a/n: requested by anon! If anyone is struggling please feel free to reach out to me! I have some great tips that help me through anxiety. Especially this breathing technique, it's great!

The world was too loud.

That was the first thing you registered as the panic set in. The distant hum of the café, the clatter of dishes, the muffled conversations—it all blended into a deafening roar that pressed against your skull. Your breathing had gone shallow, your heart hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your chest.

You knew what was happening. You'd been here before. But that didn't make it any easier.

The walls felt like they were closing in, and no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that you were safe, that nothing bad was happening, your body refused to listen. Your hands trembled violently as you pressed them against the wooden table, your vision blurring at the edges.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

"(Y/N)?"

Spencer.

You didn’t even realize he had arrived. His voice was soft but steady, pulling you out of the whirlwind just enough to register that he was crouching beside you.

You couldn’t speak. Your throat felt too tight, as if words would get caught like stones if you tried to force them out. Your fingers curled into your palms, nails digging into your skin, trying to ground yourself.

Spencer noticed immediately.

His long fingers wrapped gently around your wrists, not pulling, just holding—an anchor in the storm. “Hey, it’s okay. Just focus on me,” he murmured, his voice deliberate and soothing. “You’re safe. You’re here.”

You swallowed hard, your breaths still coming too fast, too ragged.

“Can you match my breathing?” Spencer asked, demonstrating by inhaling slowly through his nose, then exhaling just as steadily. “In for four… one, two, three, four… hold for four… one, two, three, four… out for four.”

You tried to mimic him, but it felt impossible. Your lungs were fighting against you, refusing to obey.

“That’s okay,” Spencer assured you, his thumbs rubbing slow, reassuring circles against your wrists. “Try again. Just a little slower this time.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and followed his lead.

Inhale. One, two, three, four.

Hold. One, two, three, four.

Exhale. One, two, three, four.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.

“Good,” Spencer said, his voice full of quiet encouragement. “You’re doing great.”

Your fingers slowly uncurled. Your heartbeat, though still too fast, wasn’t quite as erratic. The trembling in your hands dulled to a faint shake.

Spencer didn’t let go.

He stayed there, crouched beside you in the middle of the café, shielding you from the rest of the world with nothing but his presence.

After a few more minutes, you finally opened your eyes. His face was close, warm brown eyes filled with nothing but concern and patience.

“There you are,” he said softly.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking away the residual panic. “…Sorry.”

Spencer frowned immediately. “No. Don’t apologize.” His tone was firm but kind. “This isn’t something you have to be sorry for.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “I just… I hate when this happens. I should be able to control it.”

Spencer shook his head. “That’s not how panic attacks work.”

You expected him to let go now that you had calmed down, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted, moving to sit beside you in the booth, his hand resting lightly over yours. Not restraining, just offering warmth.

“Your brain is perceiving a threat, even if there isn’t one,” he explained gently. “It triggers the amygdala, which overrides the prefrontal cortex—the part responsible for rational thought. That’s why grounding exercises help. They re-engage the rational part of your brain.”

You huffed a tired laugh. “Always the professor, huh?”

Spencer smiled, small but genuine. “Only when I think it might help.”

You exhaled slowly, still feeling wrung out, but the worst of the storm had passed. “Thank you,” you murmured.

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

And you believed him.