The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

Just a Trifle

It’s still odd to stay the night.

You’re not quite the girlfriend, but not quite…anything else. The two of you stopped seeing other people long ago, months ago now, though it feels longer. He teases you, touches you, kisses you seemingly whenever he can, but…you’re not his girlfriend. At least he hasn’t said and you haven’t asked. And it feels silly and stupid and immature to wait for it, to even want to, or, rather, need to call him something…to make him yours, feels silly. But still.

You don’t live here, though there are pieces of you, like demarcations of your existence all over the place. A cushion the two of you purchased together that you’d meant to take back to yours, but had looked just as sweet on his couch, especially the morning after the two of you used it to prop up your head as you laid on the sofa and he laid in your lap, playing with his hair until the both of you were asleep. Or the coffee creamer in the fridge; Remus takes his coffee black, so it could only be yours. Or the toothbrush in the travel case next to his in the cabinet, purchased just for you. Even the hand soap in the bathroom - ginger mandarin, another shopping date find - served as a symbol of your presence in his life.

And now it’s Christmas. Christmas Day had been spent with your respective families only for the two of you to end up back at Rem’s. Frankly, it’s been weeks since you were home. Every time you return, your flat is like a living memory, forgotten oranges rotting in the fruit bowl on the counter, bread going stale, always cold even when it isn’t cold outside because you turn the heating off. You don’t really live there, not anymore. Most of your clothes live at Rem’s, space in his drawers opening up, seemingly if it’s own accord. It had all felt so natural…so why can’t you ask?

I KNOW THIS ONE SO WELL IT IS RATHER ARDENTLY BY THE LOVELY @reidscanehand

enjoy, dear anon, and everyone discovering this art/incredible author for the first time!

thanks, babes xx

hope you like it, anon!!

The only consistent thing about criminal minds is that I’m pretty sure every bathroom scene is shot on the exact same set

Pride and Prejudice (2005) + tumblr posts (part 1)

The Goodness, Love

~ "Do you know I could crash beneath the weight of the goodness, love, I still carry for you?" - Hozier ~

Having to stay in hiding due to the threat of Peter Lewis wasn't the ideal way to go about it, but it did mean that Aaron Hotchner got to finally be a stay-at-home dad to Jack. And, despite the fact that Peter Lewis was no longer a threat, the benefit of the time in WITSEC meant that Aaron was able to realize that that was exactly the life that he wanted to be living. Fortunately, his team being the amazing family that they are, completely understood. In fact, David Rossi insisted upon throwing him a going-away party. Rossi's house is stunning, as always, and the team really loves any opportunity to dress up and celebrate.

I Remember Halloween

~ More and more I’ll catalogue my doubts ~

You could see the signs. Hell, you’d always been able to see the signs. Even when you and Spencer weren’t dating and were just co-workers, you’d been able to see the signs. You don’t see how anyone could miss any of Spencer’s tells, honestly, though he was terribly good at masking them when he wanted to. However, since semi-retiring from the BAU and focusing more on teaching, Spencer had been less careful, less guarded. It would annoy him if you said so, but you delighted in it - the openness, the guard finally down fully. Suffice it to say that when your adorable husband came home two weeks in a row, exhausted even after only teaching one class, you recognized it as burnout, even if he didn’t. Or wouldn’t - self care had never been Spencer’s strong suit. Which is why the element of surprise is entirely necessary, no matter how drastic it may feel. It was incredibly helpful that, despite living through a pandemic working in education and being a genius, your husband still is an abysmally precious mess when it comes to technology.

Just to add to the last few posts.

PLEASE DO NOT PUT MY FICS INTO AI. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL THEM. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST.

I try really, really hard with my writing. I love doing it. I love doing it for myself and I love sharing it with you guys. I put a lot of effort into everything I post, including graphics and playlists. Please don’t take that away from me by comparing what I do to what a robot can pump out ten seconds.

Please encourage writers in the most uplifting way you can. Please reblog, please comment, please share your thoughts and feelings with us. Tell us what you like, what you hope for. Share your excitement for the fandom, for the fics, for our work, for our plot lines and ideas. We’ll share it back.

Writers, content creators, we work so hard for free and compared to how tumblr was years ago, we receive very little in return. Add a sideblog, share your favourite stories, write a little review, send your favourite writer some feedback and some love. It’s free - just like our stories.

Please don’t let AI and the assumption that tumblr has an algorithm that works like tiktok ruin content creators love for sharing their work.