#((I’m typically a pretty chill dude))

[roscvcins]

@diivineray asked : ❀ ! - Salty Af Munday Meme (accepting)

❀ What has made you completely lose your chill?

I don’t lose my chill a lot since I tend to process negative emotions later by myself! However, there’s definitely a couple of things that I have spoken Firmly (tm) about and I will likely do again.

1) Godmodding, and I include situational and making assumptions as such. If I have repeatedly stated my character would not end up in a situation bc xyz and someone continues to try to maneuver my character into that situation, I get kind of annoyed. If someone assumes my character would act in certain ways based off their own interpretation of canon and then plot with that assumption or write with that assumption without first asking me if I would write the character that way in portrayal, I get annoyed.

2) Steamrolling over me and my suggestions during plotting, or talking about their muse/fandom interests not really relevant to me or or my muse ONLY and nothing else. I care about your muse! I do! I want to find out about them, and I love hearing your thoughts. But plotting doesn’t work if someone only treats my muse like a prop while expecting me to hear all the ins and outs of theirs! It makes me feel like they’re just talking at me / not really listening to me and there’s no point since there’s no real communication when there’s no listening. Rp is a two way street.

[sescoups]

favorite coworker - choi vernon

masterlist

word count: ~5.3k (i'm so sorry)

summary: vernon is your favorite. he just gets you. of course you can't resist him - not that you would ever want to.

a/n: this is definitely NOT proofread, and i'm sorry. idk i just have the fattest crush on vernon, honestly i can't be held accountable

18+, MDNI!!! warnings under the cut <3

warnings: oral (m. receiving), making out, creepy old man (he doesn't do anything, he's just a creep), mention of vomit, lmk if i missed anything! <3

“Wait so hang on, you mean to tell me you’ve never what..? Gone down on a guy?”

“Oh yell it out, why don’t you,” you groan, smacking your forehead into the counter. Thank fuck you just cleaned it.

Vernon is your coworker at the record store in the middle of the city. He’s super chill, does what he’s supposed to but doesn’t stress out or get pissy if you’re having a bad day and work slowly. He’s great. He’s just… a bit unaware of his surroundings, a lot of the time. You’re lucky only two people are in the store at the moment, or you would have simply passed away.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just kinda can’t believe it? I mean, you’ve had sex for sure, right?”

“Yes, Vernon.” You roll your eyes and glare at an old man who is shamelessly looking you up and down. “I’ve had sex before. Just not a lot, I guess. And why is it so hard to believe?”

Had he been looking at your face, your raised eyebrow might have tipped him off to the fact that he should drop the topic and back off. Unfortunately, in typical Vernon fashion, he was doodling nonsense on a notepad, so he missed it completely.

“Well I mean, you’re hot,” he said before finally looking up at you. He started tapping his pen against the counter, leaning his weight on one hand against the counter. “You’re also pretty open about your life in general, so I just figured two plus two equals one, you know.”

“What the fu- Vernon. Think about what you just said.”

“Oh fuck. Yeah I deserved to fail math in high school.”

You burst into laughter at his words. This is exactly why you love Vernon, and why he’s your favorite coworker. You’re laughing so hard you barely manage to greet the new customer who just entered the store. Your coworker is smiling, satisfied with his ability to make you laugh.

The old man who is still eyeing you, now with extra focus on your boobs, comes up to the register just as you manage to sober up from your laughing fit. You clear your throat and turn to face him, giving him a tiny smile in the spirit of customer service. Apparently a mistake.

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” he starts, running his tongue over his front teeth in what you suspect is supposed to be a seduction attempt. “Would you mind maybe showing me some of the records you have in the back?”

The smile leaves your face immediately, and you’re about to absolutely emaciate him when Vernon cuts in to make sure you do not lose your job over some smarmy geezer.

“She cannot, sir. It’s store policy. Soz.”

You hold your snort in, but barely. The old man huffs and glares at the man next to you, crossing his arms over his chest. Honestly, you’re curious at this point. You’ve never seen Vernon handle confrontation - again, very chill dude - but you also know he is very protective over his friends.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the old man says with an eye roll. “I was talking to the pretty young lady.”

His smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you take a deep breath. The old man watches your boobs rise and fall. Seriously, fuck this guy. You force the customer service smile back on your face because you actually really like and need this job, and decide this sack of shit isn’t worth it.

“He’s right, sir. It’s against store policy, and I’m currently on register duty. If there is a specific record you wish to see, we can look it up in the system.”

“I’ll keep looking for a while… in case you change your mind.”

The way he winks at you makes your blood boil, and it’s a wonder your teeth don’t crack from the pressure of your jaw. The man walks away, and so does Vernon. He can’t really kick the guy out unless he does something physical, so you don’t know what he’s trying to do. Soon, though, your confusion melts into amusement and glee as you watch your coworker follow the man around the store, loudly dissing his music taste whenever he picks up a record. He keeps walking just a little bit too close for comfort, and after about three minutes, the man gives up.

You take huge pleasure in the way the man skulks out, hands in his pockets and back hunched over as if he’s trying to get away from something - or someone. Returning to the register, Vernon grins to himself and resumes his doodling without a word. You shake your head in amazement before going to help the other two customers in the store.

The next time you’re working with Vernon, you have the closing shift. Usually only one person is supposed to stay back after closing and clean up, but you just received a large shipment of vinyls that need to be sorted and placed into protective sleeves, so the two of you are working overtime together.

It’s a pretty slow shift, and the two of you pass the time by playing music for one another and guessing the artist and the title. You’re much better at it than he is, but only because you’re good at memorizing things; he has a far more varied music taste than you, and would easily have won had he remembered more than two song names and five artists. As per the terms of the game, the loser has to go out to get the dinner you preordered from a restaurant down the street. It’s not far, but it’s raining, so you’re glad to be exempt.

While your colleague is gone, you close out the register and sweep the floor so you only have the vinyl sorting left after you’ve eaten. The break room smells like wet dog and Doritos, so you bring two chairs out together with the foldable table that you’re going to use to sort the vinyls. Since no one is in the store anyway, you can people watch through the windows while you eat.

Vernon comes back in just as you finish setting up, soaking wet from the pouring rain. You coo at him when he shivers, and he shoots you a playful glare. He ends up holding his glare for all of two seconds before a wide smile stretches across his face.

“I left an extra shirt here at some point, do you think it smells like teenage boy?”

You escape the break room with two plates and some utensils in hand, laughing at his question and probably unfortunate fate.

“Because of the proximity to the break room? Probably. That shit is unavoidable.”

He grimaces before taking his jacket off, hanging it on a hook behind the register. He disappears to change while you plate the food, humming to yourself. You try not to think about how he’s probably half naked right now, and turn your attention to the fact that he most likely will smell atrocious to keep your head on straight.

You do love Vernon. He’s a great coworker, obviously, and he’s a great friend too, but that’s not really the full extent of it. You’ve been battling your crush on him for months now, because it’s pretty clear that he isn’t interested in you. Besides, if you ever did date, things would get awkward at work if you broke up. No, he is one of those people who should stay firmly at arm’s length. Unfortunately.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud bang, making you jump a good foot in the air.

“What the fuck, Nonnie?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, checking that the door he managed to fling directly into the wall hadn’t done any damage. “I tripped.”

“Only you, Vern,” you sigh. “Well, food is ready to go. Let’s eat!”

The meal, consisting of some kimchi jjigae, rice and side salad, passes by in relative silence. You occasionally hum in content, and Vernon often slurps his jjigae really loudly which prompts you to giggle. He always looks glad to have amused you, and you need to look away often in order to control your emotions.

“Dude,” he groans after his third serving, “I’m so fucking full.”

“I’m not the one who got an order for five people, genius,” you groan back, your own stomach feeling like a water balloon. “So good though.”

“So good,” he nods earnestly.

You can’t stand to look at him like this; you need something to do with your hands. So you stand up and stretch, which actually does help the food settle in your stomach a bit. Your hair, tied in a bun to avoid getting any food in it, comes down to release some of the pressure on your scalp, and then you feel ready to get started.

“Take all the time you need, man, but I’m gonna start on the first box. I want to get home before dawn, if I can.”

He flashes you a thumbs up and slumps against the table to enter into a food coma. You scoff at him and shake your head before clearing the dishes from the table. Thank God you have a dishwasher in the break room.

You bring out the first box and start sorting it, referencing the list you have as you go to take inventory. It’s repetitive work, but it’s kind of soothing, too. You do your best to make the plastic of the vinyl coverings crinkle as little as possible, wanting Vernon to rest for as long as he needs to. Three servings of kimchi jjigae would make anyone drowsy.

The first sign that he is still alive comes ten minutes later when he starts drumming a random rhythm on the table. You snort when you recognize the rhythm, pausing with a vinyl halfway into its covering.

“You can’t drum the melody to Dun Dun Dance, Vernon.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he protests weakly, cheek still pressed firmly against the table surface. “But nicely done. What about this one?” He drums out another rhythm, and now that you know it’s a melody he’s following, you recognize it quicker.

“That’s Candy by H.O.T.”

“Nice.”

“You gonna work or rest, bud?”

Vernon whines at your words and rolls his head to rest his forehead against the table instead. You wait patiently as he gathers the strength to sit up properly and kick a box of vinyls over to him when he seems more alive.

“Life isn’t fair,” he pouts, “I just did so much work eating all that food, and now I gotta do more?”

“It’s like that,” you agree absentmindedly, marking off a stack of vinyls on your list. “Can you turn on some music, please? The silence is creepy.”

He nods and connects his phone to the store speakers, choosing the playlist the two of you created together on a similar night of overtime. After that, the two of you slip into a rhythm together, unpacking vinyls, checking the list, and then putting them into a protective sleeve. It’s mostly silent aside from the music, and sometimes Vernon drums along to the beat on the table, but it’s comfortable. You kind of don’t mind spending a few hours like this.

When you’re two thirds through the stack of boxes, you both decide to take a break. Your saint of a colleague brews some coffee, and you hop onto the checkout counter to browse through your phone while your brain cells take a well-deserved rest.

“Bless you,” you say as you accept a mug full of coffee. “We’re making pretty good time today, eh?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, taking a sip and wincing at the scalding temperature. “We haven’t really been talking, so.”

“That jjigae really took you out, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

You grin at him and blow gently over your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink, as evidenced by the steam rising from it, but the smell alone is kind of waking you up. Vernon grabs your attention by clearing his throat gently, and you turn to look at him. He’s fidgeting a bit with a pen left on the counter close to your thigh.

“I, uh… I wanted to say I’m sorry about that dude the other day. The creepy one. I probably should have kicked him out, but I didn’t know if I could…”

Your heart melted a little in your chest. It was obvious he had been carrying this around with him, mulling it over and worrying about it. About you. It was endearing, and dangerous for your heart. You bit your lip and placed your coffee mug on the counter next to you.

“It’s okay,” you say earnestly. “He sucked, and I was uncomfortable, but you still made him leave. I didn’t feel like I was in danger or anything, so don’t worry about it.”

“I just feel like it’s partially my fault, for kind of yelling about the fact that you’ve never sucked a dick before.” You’re incredibly grateful that you weren’t drinking coffee at that moment, because you definitely would have spat it out all over the floor. His bluntness never ceased to surprise you. It was unbearably adorable. “I should be more aware of my surroundings, especially when talking about something sensitive like that.”

“Well,” you start, pausing thoughtfully. “I don’t really think that man would have acted differently either way, to be honest with you. Men like that are just… like that. I also don’t really care who knows I’ve never given a blowjob before. It doesn’t matter, at the end of the day. I haven’t done it because I haven’t slept with anyone who’s dick I wanted to suck, and that’s all. I just wish I knew how sometimes, you know?”

He shuffles his weight around at your words, shifting from foot to foot. He’s still fumbling with the pen on the counter, but now his fingers are clumsier than usual. You glance up at his face only to find him staring into empty space in front of him. You figure you made him uncomfortable with your oversharing.

“Sorry. That was TMI.”

“No,” he answers quickly. “We share everything. I told you when I threw up on Seungkwan’s lap and cried because I felt bad, didn’t I?” You smile at the reminder and nod. He finally meets your eyes again. “I was just thinking, you know.”

“What about?”

Vernon’s mind is the most fascinating thing to you. The way he thinks is so out of the box and different, and so beautiful. He has shown you the lyrics he writes for his friend Jihoon sometimes, and they’re so poetic you find yourself turning them over in your mind for days afterward. And the best part about it is that he always answers you when you ask what’s going on inside his head. He grants you access to his thoughts and feelings, and it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

“Well. I don’t know if this is going to come off as creepy or not,” he warns, “but I was thinking like… Maybe you should just get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” Your eyebrow rises as you ask the question, and his furrow in response.

“I just mean that you could know how to give a good blowjob, if you wanted to. You could just… pick someone to sleep with. And ask them to teach you. You know?”

“Nonnie,” you start, and your bewildered tone makes him shrink a little. “You really believe the best of people, don’t you?”

“Well- I mean yes, but I didn't mean you should just sleep with anyone. You could just pick someone you already know.”

His words give you pause. You have plenty of friends in possession of a penis, but the thought of sleeping with most of them feels kinda gross. The one exception is… Well, Vernon. And you sincerely doubt that he is offering himself up. So you do what you always do and make a joke to force your mind away from the thought of sucking on your friend’s dick until he cums for you.

“What, are you offering?”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugs.

You stop breathing. He is actually, genuinely offering to teach you how to suck dick. More specifically, his dick. The one that has been the star of many of your more illicit fantasies. You want to say yes so badly, want to finally get the experience of being something more to him, but you also don’t want to get ahead of yourself. But…

The room is silent while you’re thinking. You feel his eyes on the side of your face, feel the way he’s cataloging every emotion that overtakes your features, and you swallow harshly. Your heart is beating out of your chest and your hands are shaking, and your brain is running a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Then Vernon places his hand on your thigh. His touch is warm but light, ready to pull away as soon as you want him to, but it’s enough to bring your soul back into your body and get a grasp on your thoughts and feelings. You bite your lower lip and breathe in deeply before letting it go. Yeah, you’re doing this.

“I uh, I’m going to need some guidance,” you say, and you almost miss the way your friend’s eyes widen at your words.

“O-Of course. And if you want to stop at any time, just like, tell me, yeah?”

You smile at the comfort his words bring you. “Yeah.”

There is silence once again, but this one is heavy with a different kind of tension. You both know what’s happening, but you don’t know what your next move should be. Technically, you should be working and saving any… other activities for your own free time, but you don’t think waiting is something you’re capable of at this point.

He is the one to make the first move, placing his half-empty mug on the counter and placing himself between your legs. His hands find a place on your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt slightly. Sitting on the counter means you’re a little bit taller than he is, but you really don’t mind it. He holds your gaze for a few seconds before his left hand lifts to cup your face.

“Are you okay with kissing?” His voice is a bit deeper than normal, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t make heat pool between your legs. “I understand if not, but-”

You interrupt him with a gentle kiss. His lips are pillowy against yours, smooth and plump. You thank your past self for bullying him into using chapstick, because you can honestly say that this might be your favorite kiss ever.

Vernon’s hand moves from your jaw to rake through your hair, and you moan a little when his fingers catch a little in the back. He responds by stepping even closer to you and sliding his entire arm around your back, your chest pressing against his deliciously. The only thought going through your mind is the fact that you are kissing your favorite coworker, and how you really, really want to bury his cock in your throat.

He chases after you when you pull away slightly to catch your breath, and you don’t even mind that the oxygen deprivation is making you dizzy. You slump against him a little when he tugs on your hair again, and you move to return the favor. As soon as you pull on the hair at the back of his neck, he forces himself to pull away and gulp down some air.

His eyes are glazed over, his lips slick with a mix of your and his saliva, and his chest is rising and falling where it’s pressed against yours. It's painfully attractive. He rasps out a quiet groan and leans his forehead against yours. You love the feeling of his harsh breaths hitting your face and answer back with your own.

You feel like you’re in a bubble, because the world around you feels muted and time feels like it has stopped moving. You wouldn’t be surprised if the earth had stopped spinning.

“Sorry,” he breathes. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent. “I just really wanted to do that.”

“Stop apologizing,” you respond, bringing your hand onto his head to scratch at his scalp. “I liked it. Maybe a bit too much.”

Your words bring a whine out of Vernon, and he squeezes you tighter. You’re still on top of the counter, but you can feel his bulge against the inside of your thigh. It twitches against you every time you tug at the ends of his hair, and it makes you smile.

One of your hands snakes down and cups him through his jeans. He reacts strongly despite the thick material separating you. His willingness to show you how good you make him feel make you fall for him all over again. As if he wasn’t already perfect enough.

“Y/N,” he gulps when you move your hand against him, “we’re taking this at your pace, and I can go as slowly as you want to, but I think I might go insane if I don’t get these pants off.”

You giggle breathlessly as you pull away from him, and he forces himself to take a step back from you. You lean back on your hands, your knees still spread from where he was standing previously. He’s distracted for a few seconds before he finally remembers to unbutton his jeans and tugs them down his legs.

The bulge had been apparent through the jeans, but you can truly tell how hard he is when they come off. The way he twitches in his boxers is so obvious you almost feel bad for him. You decide it’s time you follow through and receive your lesson.

You hop off the counter and slide onto your knees in front of him. It’s unfair how attractive he is even from this angle, you think, and slide your hands up his thighs. You’ve given handjobs before, so it’s not exactly your first time touching a dick, but the goal is different now. This time, your hands are just the warmup and not the main event. You’re just hoping you can bring him some sort of pleasure in spite of your inexperience.

“Tell me how to start,” you whisper up at him. He blinks a few times at the sight of you before sucking in a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he rasps. His throat is already dry with anticipation. “I uh, I mean everyone is different when it comes to this stuff, so uh-”

“Just teach me what you like, Nonnie.” Your hands are massaging his thighs, nails digging into his skin every now and then. Whenever they do, you can feel him shudder.

“O-Oh, okay,” he breathes, sounding broken already. “I prefer skipping the handjob first, I guess. I really l-like the feeling of licking, especially at the tip, and uh-” He is becoming redder by the second. “One step at a time. Uhm, start by removing my boxers.”

You nod obediently and slide your hands up to his lower tummy, watching the expressions of pleasure as they take over his face. You assume you will never get to do this again, so you do your best to burn it all into your mind for later use on lonely nights spent with your vibrator. He shudders again when your nails scratch his skin lightly. Your fingers curl around the hem of his underwear and tug.

His cock is beautiful. It’s pretty long, curving slightly towards his stomach, and the tip of it is a perfect shade of peach. Your mouth waters at the thought of getting to taste it, and you eye the drop of precum spilling from the tip. You gently shuffle closer, but he stops you.

“Sorry, you’re fine, I just need something to lean against,” he explains when you look at him in fear of having done something wrong. He maneuvers you both so that he’s leaning against the counter you were sitting on not five minutes ago, and you’re in front of him.

“What now, Nonnie?” you ask, his eyes shutting and chest expanding to accommodate a deep breath.

“You should probably just uh, stroke me a few times first. Then uhm, then you can do whatever you want.” You blink at him a few times, trying to indicate that he’s supposed to be teaching you how to do this. For once, he gets the hint. “Like I said, I uh, like licking. When you take me in you just have to make sure not to like, bite me. Other than that, you can take it at your own speed and depth - for your comfort, of course, but I’m also not picky.”

You admire the flush decorating his cheeks and neck. He looks so good like this, towering over you and looking at you like you hold the answer to his ultimate pleasure. You try to convince yourself that you do, that you will be able to listen and follow his guidance well enough that this will feel good for him. You decide that you will.

Raising your right hand, you grip him tightly in your fist. It makes him suck in a breath, and you feel the muscles in his thighs tense up. You pump him a few times, going slow and using his precum as lube. It’s not enough, of course, but you will move on soon.

“Fuck…” he heaves, leaning back onto the counter even more. He looks into your eyes and swears again. “Please, sweetheart, as soon as you’re ready, I-I want-”

You cut him off by pressing your tongue against the head of his dick. The flavor is salty and a little bit bitter, but it tastes like heaven. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you continue kitten-licking at his slit, and he lets out a winy moan. You open your eyes and look at him, only to find him with his head tilted back to look at the ceiling.

“How is this?” you pause to ask, continuing before he’s had time to answer.

“Good, baby,” Vernon answers through his labored breathing. “So, so good. Keep going, you’re doing great.”

The praise bolsters your confidence, and you give a long lick from his base to his tip. The motion makes him moan again, so you repeat it a few more times. In no time at all, his cock is covered in a mixture of your saliva and his own precum. You decide it’s time to try and take him in your mouth - both because you’ve teased him enough, but you’re also too impatient to wait anymore.

His tip breaches the heat of your mouth , and you find you have to open your jaw quite a bit to accommodate him. A punched out groan leaves him, and one of his hands comes down to tangle in your hair. When a strand of it falls in front of your face, he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the back of your head.

You love the weight of him on your tongue, and dare to sink down a bit lower. He hits the top of your mouth. You gag around him, and he gently pulls you off of him to check on you.

“You okay? You don’t have to keep going,” he reminds you. It only serves to make you more determined to make him cum down the back of your throat.

“What can I do better?” you ask while stroking him in your hand. You still want to improve.

“Honestly?” he wheezes, his hips jumping of their own accord. “You’re doing great.” You glare a bit at him, and he smiles down at you apologetically. “Sorry. But you are doing great. Maybe try sucking a bit more? Not just placing me in your mouth.”

You nod and sink right back down on him. His noises of pleasure are never-ending, and they only increase in volume as well as frequency once you properly suck around him. You bob up and down on him, his hand clenching in your hair as he’s doing his best not to fuck your throat. You’re making it pretty hard.

“Please, baby, I’m gonna fucking- Where do you want me to cum?”

His voice is hoarse and strained, and his grip on your hair has grown so tight it’s stinging your scalp. You savor the pain and rub your thighs together, mewling around him. You grip his ass and push deeper to signal for him to cum in your mouth, and it’s not a second too soon because he immediately spills his seed into you.

Vernon cums so much that some spills out onto your chin, but you diligently swallow what you can. He tries to keep his eyes on you, but his vision quite literally whites out as he reaches his high, so his eyes screw shut without his permission. You, on the other hand, couldn’t tear your gaze from him if you tried. He’s beautiful when he cums, his eyebrows scrunched in what almost looks like pain and his jaw slack in awe. His thighs tremble, and you’re glad he’s leaning against the counter so he doesn’t collapse onto the floor.

“Fuck, how are you so good at this,” he heaves out when his vision returns. You just smirk up at him, some of his cum still covering your chin and lips.

“I had a good teacher,” you tease back. Your voice is raspy after bobbing on his cock, and he finds it painfully attractive.

He notices the way you clench your thighs together and realizes you’re still on the floor. He’s quick to bend down and help you to your feet. As soon as you’re in front of him, he’s kissing you. He doesn’t care about the cum transferring from your chin to his, nor the fact that his softening dick is still out in the open; all he can think about is that he wants to pay you back for what you just did for him.

“Nonnie,” you breathe between kisses, and instead of pulling away it makes him kiss you harder, faster, deeper. He loves when you call him that. He reluctantly pulls away when you push gently against his chest, though. “We should finish the-”

“I need to eat you out, baby. Please, please let me.” His interruption surprises you, and so does his suggestion. He must see your confusion, because he quickly clears things up for you. “I want to, because I like you so much. I promise to ask you to be my girlfriend after this, but please, let me eat you out first.”

“Okay, but Nonnie-” you say, but he interrupts you with a passionate kiss as he mumbles thanks against your lips. “Nonnie.” He sighs and pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes to stop himself from jumping you again, and you smile. “I’ll say yes right now. I want to be your girlfriend. Is that okay?”

He kisses you so deeply you lose track of where he starts and you end, but you’re just so glad to be kissing him again you probably couldn’t have figured it out anyway. You don’t talk much more that evening, and you definitely don’t get home before midnight, but at least you go home and fall into bed together. Maybe his inattentiveness was a blessing, after all.

masterlist

a/n: don't forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this post! <3

[johnbrand]

Profile Picture

Anthony had been avoiding it for over a week and now the social media manager was getting antsy. All the new frat members were supposed to submit a picture to be introduced in profiles online. It made sense, but Anthony just did not have any good pictures of himself. Typically, people sent in their senior pictures, but Anthony had not had any taken. The last decent portrait he owned was from junior year when he had had braces.

“UGH!” Anthony sighed loudly, exasperated as he locked himself into a bathroom. Worst part of it all was that he could not escape the issue because he LIVED with these people. He had run into three of the other frat boys on the way here, one of whom insisted on shaking hands as he flew by. Typically, Anthony was short enough to literally hide; people would just overlook him so that he could scurry away unnoticed. But now he was trapped, making a deal out of something that probably should not have been in the first place. 

“If only I had been narcissistic enough to have taken a selfie once in my life,” Anthony groaned.

Suddenly, his phone lit up with a new notification. A text from a contact named “Michael.”

“Hey dude, it was great to meet you,” it read. Anthony wondered how the blond jock he had just met in the hallway already had his number. Let alone, why. Most people seemed to be put off by his personality, especially the hot, muscular ones. Anthony’s height was also a deterrent, as was his weight. Well actually, just about anything else one could think of. 

“How did you get my number?” Anthony adjusted his glasses almost subconsciously.

“Got it last night from you at the party,” came the reply. “Must’ve knocked you out pretty hard if you don’t remember.”

For a moment Anthony was not sure what Michael meant. He had only rushed this frat for the bullet point on his resume; he would have never gone to a college party. Or at least Anthony could not imagine having gone to one.

“Don’t you remember? That chick Nicole was all over you. I couldn’t help but get jealous.” Michael sent a laughing emoji before continuing. “She’s always been into the tall, ‘All-American’ kinda man.”

Anthony laughed as he checked himself out in the mirror. He did fit that bill pretty well. His body was practically built by the Midwest; corn-fed and stacked with beef. Anthony worked out all the time to maintain his thick-yet-polished frame. And at 6’3, all the muscle made Anthony appear even larger. He was almost always staring down at others, but that was just natural for men his size. 

“Yeah she was pretty crazy,” Anthony awkwardly replied. He had told her countless times that he simply did not swing that way. “I’m just glad someone else noticed. She had no chill, man.”

“She’s got a real hankering for the blond-hair, blue-eyes combo. It’s like something that really sets her off. You might get yourself a stalker if you’re not careful.”

Anthony’s smile broadened. Had Nicole really been that easy to read? Yeah, his sparkling sapphire eyes and luscious golden locks were usually enthralling, that was why he never covered them up. But that girl had really been on to him last night–more than Anthony was used to from others. “I could probably handle a girl like her.”

“I know. I’m just teasing,” Michael replied quickly. “I know you like when a girl is crazy for you anyway, all that attention goes right to the big boy downstairs.”

That text confused Anthony at first, but after a quick squeeze to his thickening python, he felt himself agreeing.

“What can I say,” Anthony smirked, continuing to paw himself. “I like to have a good girl who understands her place.

“Now stop fagging out on yourself in the mirror and get out here!" Michael responded. "This new pool is sick, and all the sorority chicks are here in their skimpiest bikinis.”

That final line made Anthony’s juicy dick spurt a bit into his tight, American-flag print swim shorts. Cockily, he posed in front of the mirror and took a picture of his studly body. Anthony then sent it to Michael before hurriedly exiting the bathroom. By the time Michael had forwarded the image onto the social media manager, Anthony had already acclimated into the pool, a swarm of hungry girls eagerly surrounding him.

[jjwantsme]

trouble is my middle name

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!pogue!reader

summary: in which y/n decides to leave her boyfriend alone for just a few minutes, and it results in nothing but chaos.

warnings: psychical fighting, an angry but HOT jj, bestfriend!sarah, cussing, mentions of sex, fem reader, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: jj is so boyfriend for this. you’re welcome

masterlist

“Dude,” JJ laughed, an arm tight around y/n’s waist as he laughed at something pope said, “you’re so full of shit!”

“No, i’m not! What makes you think I can’t do a backflip?” Pope argued back as he rested his forearms on his knees.

“Uh, you were on the math team?!” The blondie laughed in the other boys face, getting distracted when he felt his girlfriend move away from his arm.

He was always like this at parties, always keeping an arm around her or a hand holding hers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her when she wasn’t around him, of course he trusted her- more than he’s ever trusted anyone before.

He just knew that there were weird people out there, perverted people. And he didn’t want his honey to become a victim to their perverted ways.

“Hey, babe, where you going?” JJ quickly asked y/n before she could get too far. “Oh! I was gonna go hang out with sarah, she texted me and told me to meet her in the bathroom. Is that okay?” She smiled up at him with her sweet eyes, wrapping one of her hands around his.

JJ returned the sweet smile, “of course, baby.”

He leaned in to give her a lingering goodbye kiss, y/n humming lightly into it when she could taste the beer on his lips.

She giggled as she pulled away, “on second thought , maybe i shouldn’t leave you alone. You’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

JJ immediately scoffed, “Pft, I’m fine. Go have fun, pretty girl.”

Y/n grinned and gave him one last peck on his red lips, before walking towards where she knew sarah would be.

JJ smiled as he watched her go, just admiring his little angel. He still couldn’t believe she let him start dating her.

In his mind, y/n was 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 out of his league.

She was too pretty, too smart. He was sure she would be valedictorian by the end of the school year- she was the most intelligent person he’d ever met, outdoing pope by miles.

It’s not like JJ was an insecure person, he was definitely over confident. Before he fell for y/n, people described him as a player, being able to kill with his looks.

He just knew a good thing when he got it, and y/n was one of those things.

His state of admiration was cut short when he heard a whistle from behind him, one that he hoped wasn’t towards his girlfriend.

“Damn, look at that ass!”

JJ’s face became red with rage, steam practically coming out of his ears as he turned around.

“Oh, shit.” Pope mumbled, preparing to call y/n back as he knew a fight was about to happen.

Typical party with JJ.

JJ grabbed the ignorant kook by the collar of his shirt, gripping it tight, “What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend?!”

“Chill, man, i was just saying, it’s a nice-“

He didn’t even get to finish his crude sentence before JJ clocked him right in the face.

Meanwhile, y/n stood in the bathroom doing sarah’s hair, still oblivious to the perverted comment that was previously made towards her.

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like a fight…” sarah spoke as she heard commotion from the other side of the door, making y/n pause her movements.

Oh, fuck.

“Goddamn it, J,” y/n mumbled before heading out already knowing the fight would somehow involve her drunk boyfriend.

And she was right, immediately seeing her boyfriend getting separated from some random kook as he spit out blood from his mouth.

For a mere second, as John B and pope held him back, he caught her eye and smiled at her; making her weak in the knees, despite the fact she was mad at his aggressive mannerisms.

“2 minutes,” y/n spoke sternly as she wiped off blood from JJ’s chin with a makeup wipe, “I left you alone for 2 minutes, JJ!”

JJ probably shouldn’t admit this, but man, did it turn him on to see his girlfriend get all feisty on him like this.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry, okay?” JJ sighed, “But i don’t regret what i did! He was being a total jackass.”

“I don’t care what he did, JJ, violence isn’t-“

“He talked about you! In a…weird way. Like, about your body.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s eyes softened as she bit her lip, “you got into a fight over me?”

JJ scoffed, “Damn right, and I’ll do it again!”

Now, y/n probably shouldn’t admit 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, but knowing her boyfriend gave someone a bloody nose for her, was definitely turning her on.

She didn’t need to admit it, though, instead she just kissed him, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

Boy, were they in for a long night.

[ghostgirl-22]

Do you think patrick ever put on a queer/gay movie as a subtle way to get art out of his shell, like "yeah dude ive wanted to watch this movie for ages" and its okay its chill, look how hot they are, look how happy they are

"Is kissing boys different to kissing girls?"

Oh he definitely did… I’m sorry this is so long nonnie!!!

CW: 18+ NSFW | period typical internalized homophobia

—-

Patrick’s lying in Arts bed with his headphones on going through his catalogue of dvds trying to figure out what B movie they can watch and make fun of while they get high. The whole time Art is using his back as a writing surface to finish his math homework.

Patrick pulls his headphones off and drops them on the ground. “It’s Friday. Do you have to do that now?”

“It’s Friday night, we have the tournament Saturday and Sunday so when exactly?” Art says distractedly, erasing.

“On the bus like I do.” Patrick smiles and turns to look at him. Art pushes his shoulder back down. Patrick shrugs and focuses back on his dvds.

“Stay still.” Art demands.

“Forgive me if I’m just trying to get you to have a little fun in our last few months at Mark Reballato Tennis Academy.”

“You know I do actually plan to graduate, right?” Art says dryly.

“So you can go to Stanford?” Patrick says wrinkling his nose in irritation.

Art puts his notebook down on Patrick’s back. “You know Tashi’s gonna be there right?”

Patrick shrugs. “So, just two overtalented people wasting time…”

“Aww so you’re calling me talented?” Art teases.

“You are,” Patrick says. “When you don’t think too much, which Stanford should help you with. I’m sure they don’t over think anything there.”

“Whatever man,” Art sighs. If anything it’ll help my tennis. I think you’re just scared I might steal her away.”

“Not even a little bit, but speaking of her… do you remember how you let me put my tongue in your mouth?” Patrick smirks.

Art goes all quiet like he’s doing homework again but Patrick doesn’t hear the pencil scratching paper.

“You always bring it up like you think I want you or something.”

“You wanted something, I felt it,” Patrick says pushing himself up as Art grabs the notebook off him before it falls.

“Come on man, don’t be gross, that was for her.”

“How is that gross?” Patrick asks, mildly amused, mildly irritated.

“You know what I mean,” Art says. “‘m not gay.”

“You know there’s nothing wrong with it right? Not to mention I’ve seen you before…touched you before… and…I mean remember what we did after she left? Didn’t I make you feel better?”

“We don’t always have to talk about it.”

“We don’t never have to talk about it either.” Patrick counters.

Art takes a deep breath and rests his head against the wall trying to find a way to change the subject. “Dude, if you’re gay just let me have another shot with her.” Is what he comes up with, dumb pretty smirk on his lips.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, fine I’m gay…actually that reminds me of this movie you can gayly watch with your gay best friend.”

“I’m just joking. You don’t have to—“

“Well I’m not joking, come on, put this away, loser,” Patrick grabs his notebook and stuffs the papers inside.

“Okay Jesus, Patrick don’t wrinkle it all up.”

“I’m not, chill out. Get the smoke detector.”

Art sighs and climbs off the bed. He steps on Patrick’s bed and reaches up to disconnect the detector from its place on the ceiling. He puts it in the bathroom. Then he shoves a towel beneath the crack in the door.

All the while Patrick’s combing through his dvd case for one random movie he borrowed from Netflix at the start of the year and he’d forgotten to mail it back so they charged him. (That’s sadly how he ended up with a lot of his dvd collection.) He’d watched it once by himself because he thought the main guys were hot and he wanted to jerk off in peace without Art voicing confusion at the idea of him jerking it for a man.

But it had been surprisingly deep for one of those campy queer movies. And of course it was about a guy in love with his roommate which… even for Art’s ability to delude himself wouldn’t be subtle at all.

“What’s this?” Art asks.

“The movie we’re gonna watch. This guy is a male hooker but he ends up getting hired by this old guy who mostly just wants his company.”

Art frowns.

“Come on, relax. You can be straight and watch it. Movies don’t turn people gay and you’re not gay…so what’s the big deal?”

Art looks like he wants to argue but decides it’ll just be easier to surrender. Patrick rolls the joint while Art puts it in the dvd player.

It’s not all his fault. Art was raised with apple pie and Americana. He’s a J Crew catalogue wearing, red blooded New England boy. His family is pretty liberal but in the way that they support all of it as long as it remains out there faceless and unknown… far away from their life and their home. Art’s expected to play a sport, go to an ivy, marry a beautiful girl and likely start a career in politics if tennis doesnt pay off. So this idea that life could ever deviate from that makes him glitch out.

All the tension they have between them is so much easier to just bury. Like none of it matters. It’s not supposed to change the trajectory of his cookie cutter life anyway. Patrick is a victim of similar family expectations but he just doesn’t give a fuck and they’ve all stopped expecting things from him a long time ago because of it.

Art sits on his bed next to Patrick they’re both leaning against the wall Patricks feet dangling over the mattress, Art with his legs crossed. Patrick lights up the joint and hands it to him.

—-

They’re pretty baked halfway through and Arts fidgety. It’s at a scene where the main character is touching himself watching his roommate in the shower. “He’s hot right?” Patrick asks.

Art takes a breath. “Dude.”

“Yeah I know…you’re not gay.” Patrick smirks, but even in the dim glow of the tv he can see the way Art’s already starting to show in his boxers.

The third roommate catches the main character watching and wants to suck him off. Then while third roommate is sucking him he starts fantasizing about all three of them hooking up, kissing sloppy on the bed.

“Is this porn?” Art whispers. “Are we really watching gay porn?”

“No I wish… unfortunately they don’t show you that much but imagine if me and you and Tashi were roommates.You watching her shower… while I…”

Art makes a strangled noise and Patrick rubs his own cock, smiling to himself. Art’s just getting there but Patrick’s been hard for the last 30 minutes.

“Patrick,” Art whispers. He’s starting to touch himself over his boxers.

“Give me the joint,” Patrick says, softly. It’s their third one. “If you drop it on the bed again we’ll both be in trouble.”

Art hands it over and Patrick puts it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. He moves closer to Art reaching over to help him. Art leans back, letting Patrick take over. Patrick reaches into his boxers. “Mm Patrick… have you seen her naked?” Art asks.

“No,” Patrick whispers. “Just her underwear. But…I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“I feel like I can still taste her lips.” He moans while Patrick plays with him. Patrick can’t help but ease his other hand into his own pants. “I wanna…ah… I wanna… see her all soaped up wet and…” Art continues.

“And…?” Patrick breathes.

“Fuck… can you… can we…do what we did after…”

Patrick smiles and nods even though Art likely can’t see him. He gets on his knees and Art scoots towards the edge of the bed. Patrick takes Art’s boxers down and starts sucking him off. touching himself the whole time.

“Mm fuck,” Art breathes.

He barely lasts 2 minutes before he’s filling Patrick’s mouth with so much jizz. Patrick swallows it down, while listening to Art moaning for him. All the hair on his arms standing up. He rests his head against Art’s thigh making quick work of himself, using part of the sheet to keep it from getting all over the floor.

Patrick settles where he is on the floor, breathless when he’s done. Looking up at the television like it was fucking nothing even though his heart is still racing.

Main character has moved so far away from the threesome fantasy. He’s now angsty and worried about his best friend who’s apparently being pursued by someone else. Some other more wholesome gay man. Patrick ponders rewinding but when he looks up at Art, he’s lying back on the bed, hand casually on the waistband of his boxers, tapping his bare feet on the floor just watching.

Patrick rubs Arts leg idly.

“Who’s this loser?” Art asks of the more wholesome gay man.

Patrick laughs. It’s exactly what he thought on his first watch through.

They end up watching the rest of the film. Again, it’s surprisingly more emotional than the premise (male hooker wants to fuck his roommates). Main character ends up learning to be more open about his feelings in his time chatting with the elder gay client. And the emotional part is hearing the elder gay man talk about what he went through to fall in love with his partner when it was much more taboo and unacceptable. And how even though they meet late in life they still lived such a full and happy life (if too short) before his partner passed. And main character’s roommate even gives him a chance and they go out on a date.

Art’s rubbing his eyes when it’s over.

Patrick gets back on the bed next to him. “That was nice right?”

Art’s clearly trying to hide his feelings so he just nods and when he feels okay to use his voice he says. “Seems kinda deep for you.”

“Well I can be deep,” Patrick smirks. He curls his fingers into Art’s hair. “I mean it’s cool right? They were happy.”

”I always wonder where they imagine movies like this to happen? San Francisco probably.” Art laughs, lightly. He looks away from Patrick and Patrick puts his hand back by his side.

“Well I think it could happen anywhere but good thing you're going to California soon.” Patrick says, just as light.

Art looks at him again and then looks at his lap. “I mean it wasn’t just her that made me feel…” he murmurs.

“Me too,” Patrick says.

“So I don’t know…I mean I’m not gay but…but maybe I’m something else…”

“I definitely am.”

Art sighs. “You make me something else.”

“Is that so bad?” Patrick asks.

Art rubs his hands on his thighs and then leans in and gives Patrick a kiss.

(Had to google if Netflix existed in 2006 😭😭 it did but they mailed dvds. Also I made Patrick lie. Movies definitely make you gay. Look what Challengers has done to me!!)

[musicalmoritz]

TikTok shipping discourse is giving me a headache

So I’ve been super excited abt the recent revival of the Gravity Falls fandom because that show was a large part of my childhood. My sister and I watched it as it was coming out, I still vividly remember watching the first episode with her when it aired. It was one of my first big fandoms so I have a lot of fond memories with it (and some not-so-fond, my sister and I would always joke abt how we were just like the Pines twins so certain areas of the internet were…well, awkward to say the least)

Anyways super happy that the fandom is back but why am I seeing so much beef between Dipcifica and Mabcifica shippers??? I don’t remember there being this much discourse before, most people shipped Bill//Dip so that was the biggest rival to Dipcifica I recall seeing at the time, besides Wen//Dip. Oh and also. The other one. But usually ppl were pretty chill abt Mabcifica bcuz it went along well with the mega popular mlm pairing so like,,,even if ppl didn’t care abt them, they were content with that as a way to keep Pacifica out of the picture. There were the typical homophobes ofc but I don’t remember ppl going out of their way to hate on Mabcifica back when I was really into the fandom

This might come as a shock, but I was always Team Dipcifica. It was one of those ships I absolutely fell in love with, I read fics of them on FanFiction.Net and watched all the amvs and cosplays. I liked the idea of Dipper being the guy Pacifica could sort of run away with after escaping her toxic family because I loved her character sm and wanted good things for her. And, well, I related to Dipper a lot so there might have been some subconscious projecting going on there

So yeah, big time Dipcifica girlie but as we all know I’m also a massive multishipper and Femslash Enthusiast™️. It took me awhile to come around to Mabcifica bcuz as I was watching the show I was working through a lot of internalized homophobia, but nowadays I ship them nearly equally to Dipcifica. They are both interesting ships in their own rights with their own appeals. Pacifica was always a character in Mabel’s storylines so people shipping them romantically makes sense to me. I actually look at Mabcifica content more frequently than Dipcifica content now bcuz my main thing is sapphic ships. But if you were to ask me to pick one, I would still probably say Dipcifica

Alright now onto the current discourse. I keep seeing posts on TikTok of Dipcifica shippers explaining why they hate Mabcifica, or bashing the ship in their own edits. I also see a constant flood of comments on Mabcifica posts of ppl hating on the ship and saying Dipcifica is better. My dudes, what happened to “ship and let ship”?? Seeing all of this at the same time I’m seeing a flood of posts saying that ships don’t have to be canon or even make sense, and that ppl should let fandoms have fun, is crazy. And yes I’m gonna pull this card, it’s a little odd for people to specifically be targeting the most popular wlw ship in the fandom. “It’s toxic” mf you ship BILL//FORD

Hate whatever ships you want!! No one is forcing you to like Mabcifica. If they are then block them. But omg I thought we were trying to leave needless ship hate in the past. The ships can coexist, believe me I’m overjoyed that Dipcifica has so many canon implications but ppl are still well within their right to ship Mabcifica

I don’t even care that much abt Bill//Ford (love it and fully support it, have supported it since middle school, but I’m more of a Fidd//author girlie) but I’m glad that’s the fandom’s main focus rn, I couldn’t take it if the ONLY thing the shippers were yapping abt was which Pines sibling Pacifica should hold hands with. Another life saved by toxic yaoi

Mabcifica shippers get behind me

[c-rowlesdraws]

final very superficial appraisal of the live action one piece show:

👍:

-the set design was wonderful and had a cool sense of unreality to it (as in, the environments feel like built sets and it’s part of the fun), it was colorful and theatrical and captured the manga’s blend of piratey genre aesthetics (wooden boards, sailing ships, rolled-up old maps) and “modern” elements like t-shirts and neon signs in a really pleasing way

-the show clicks to the top of the first rollercoaster hill at the end of episode 3 and then goes at the start of ep 4 and it’s just one breathless ride to the finish. I didn’t want the show to end. I do not care about one piece and started watching kind of for the bit but now I’ll actually be really upset if it doesn’t get a second season. That’s how good the second half of this show is.

-I love how all of the characters with colorful hair have clearly-dyed hair where their roots are showing (as opposed to wigs), and in flashbacks to a few of them as children the child actors have the exact same sort of imperfect dye job. It’s wonderful. It adds to the theatrical energy of everything, like “we know you know this is artificial, but we trust you to suspend your disbelief and enjoy this fiction with us”.

-with very few exceptions, all of the actors’ performances are great. They are all cool and fun to watch and there are lots of sweet and funny and emotional moments that work because the writing is sincere. Nobody rolls their eyes for the audience’s benefit at how weeeeird their world is— they live here! I love that.

-the trap beat they did for Arlong’s theme music rules

-this story with its global ocean and seafaring/island-based societies is kind of like “what if Waterworld was like a big colorful carnival” and I love that

-the Snail Phones 🐌

Things I liked less below the cut - 👎:

-Zoro’s backstory bff being depressed because “a girl can beat a boy, but no woman can beat a man [in a swordfight]” was a disappointing line to hear two characters just… play straight in a world that up to that point had seemed pretty non-sexist? But this girl sincerely believes that, and this boy doesn’t push back at all. In this world of self-dismembering clowns and people with axes for arms, you’re telling me that there are no champion swordswomen for little kids to admire? Not one?? From skimming the wiki, it seems like in the manga Kuina’s views are influenced by her sexiest dad, but the show doesn’t include that context.

-Kuina dying offscreen in “an accident” was the only tragic thing in the show that didn’t land for me. It’s just so blatant and funny. You’ve got to get rid of her so she can motivate Zoro, because she’s dead in the manga and that’s how you motivate male main characters, with dead women, but… how? Doesn’t matter! There’s been an accident. Typical backstory girl bff behavior. Call that Fridge To Terabithia.

-Iñaki’s energy as Luffy didn’t always work for me. Some character behavior works in manga and anime, but seems awkward and jarring in real life. It’s very difficult to pull off wild limb-flailing anime exuberance in live-action— live-action Cowboy Bebop’s glimpse of Ed comes to mind. But also, I never really liked Luffy in the parts of the manga I read, either, so maybe I’m just not the target audience for a Luffy in any medium. Iñaki seems like a friendly and chill dude and he certainly gave this role 100%— and also Oda himself loved him for the role, so that says a lot.

-the whole thing with Arlong and his Fishman crew where they’re part of an oppressed and formerly-enslaved minority, so of course they have beef with humans (“but slavery’s been abolished!” shouts a human character), but they’re taking things too far and not just fighting for equality, but domination, which includes extorting, killing, and enslaving humans, starting with this poor little girl here. And since this group are clearly evil and have these big evil plans, it’s cool and great actually for the heroes, who are all humans/members of the majority, to kick their asses and kill a bunch of them. Like… I get there’s a whole thing here with Arlong being twisted by hatred into the very thing he says hates, and maybe we’ll meet more Fishmen later in the story who are just people and not bloodthirsty evildoers, but it’s not a great fictional look?

It takes me back to hbomberguy’s critique of RWBY’s portrayal of the Faunus, and the problems with making your bad guys out of an oppressed ethnic group who, the story says, might have a point, if they went about things peacefully, but are just taking things too far with this domestic terrorism stuff. The Faunus and Arlong should really be writing to their congresspeople instead!

[lightwise]

TBB S3 E10 Reaction

Life has been a bit busier the last few weeks so I am finally catching up on my episode reactions (I’m determined to do all of them this season!) And I apologize y’all, this episode made me very snarky apparently.

I’ll be honest. When this episode first came out I was nowhere near as surprised by it or horrified by it as reviewers seemed to be. Nothing about Palpatine hunting down force sensitive children as experiments and using Cad Bane to do it is a surprise, and the Vault feels so much like Andor. But even on a rewatch this episode holds up so well and honestly just starts to give a cold chill under the skin as the quiet horror of it sinks in.

- Cute kid. And the Batch nowhere to be seen. This is going to be a different episode isn’t it

- Oh no. He’s force sensitive 😫😫😫 hmmm how could that possibly go wrong

- This is giving Andor vibes 👀

- It’s always interesting seeing “regular people” in Star Wars and little markets and how they’re just trying to go about their daily lives.

- Don’t go around snitching people! Nothing good ever comes of it!!!

- Yeah this guy is worse than Timm from Andor. Wtf dude. You’re turning in a baby!!

- Also is it just me or typical Star Wars “houses” end up being pretty dark and depressing?

- Wait okay okay. So this is the CX chamber. Why can’t we see any of them yet 😩😩 what is this red fog? What are these weird conditioning pods? What kind of armor is on this datapad?? *trying to crawl inside my screen* I NEED ANSWERS JENNIFER!!

- “Do you trust me?” Ooooh why do I think that’s going to come back around

- But also, babygirl, I don’t think you actually know what you’re signing up for

- “I could be more useful” “you wish to be the new chief scientist Dr. Karr?” “I believe I’ve earned it.” Alright. This. This is interesting. This fully encapsulates the dynamic that these two have shared. Emerie knows that Hemlock only values things that are useful, and probably only sees her own value in the light of what she can contribute, due to how she was raised and the circumstances she has been trapped in. Hemlock’s tone of voice implies that he has never considered her as being the new chief scientist, and yet he acquiesces quite quickly, almost as though he’s just too busy to think about it and if it means things are brought back up to production standard then he’s fine with it. His utter disregard for Emerie as an actual human and someone with merit is disgusting though.

- But I get it, the man’s busy, he’s got a lot of evil shit he’s trying to do all at the same time 🙄

- So we have “the assets”, which is the area that Hemlock took Palpatine in the first episodes, where the orange containment pods are and the zillo beast is being kept. We still don’t know what those assets are. The Vault is something different.

- Well. Shit. It’s Andor and Narkina 5 for kids. Lovely 😳💀

- “There are few adults left with such characteristics” I WONDER IN THE NAME OF ONE EMPEROR PALPATINE WHY

- Okay so this entire exchange is awful. The kids are so cute! Hemlock is so cold. “Specimens. Assets” ughhh Emerie what are you getting yourself into!!

- Is this the first time we’ve heard the word glasses in Star Wars?

- Oh no. So THIS is why Cad Bane was brought back 🥺🥺

- The score in this episode is perfectly eerie

- Lol Todo is not good with kids huh 🤣

- That poor mama when she wakes up and finds her baby is gone

- I hope that dude has his entire life flash before his eyes as he’s trying to pick all of those credits up

- “My name’s Eva” 🥹🥹🥹 Emerie has no idea how to handle this 😂

- I still wanna know what’s happened with these commandos. No way a clone of Jango Fett is able to look a child in the eyes, call them a “specimen” and not have even an ounce of remorse as they stun them point blank.

- “Jax?” And Eva just points. The power in knowing someone’s name vs a dehumanizing number

- It’s also interesting that these kids are species that are red, blue, and green, and when they get Bayrn in, he’s white. RGB colors make up white light when put together.

- The little peeks of Emerie’s backstory we keep getting are so interesting. She was abandoned by Nala Se. She knows that these children don’t belong here, the same way that Omega told both her and Crosshair that they didn’t belong here either. Nala Se says that the Empire will hold these kids to control them. Emerie feels like she has no power to do anything differently. So much to unpack here.

- Why is Tarkin’s holo so large?

- Lol I honestly love getting to see the backbiting politics of how the Empire functions. It’s so bad and so funny

- Also love that Project Necromancer is so secret that even Tarkin doesn’t know what it is. He’s so nosy

- Okay why does he bring up the CX schematic again and why is it so different than the one we saw earlier??

- Whoa Cid was tortured???

- “The other operatives aren’t ready to join you in the field” why????

- We’re visiting a lot of space stations this season

- Man I wish Emerie had fudged this test

- Nooo let the poor baby go home 🥺

- Oh and now we’re putting kids in solitary confinement. Great.

- C’mon Emerie. Keep clicking that moral compass until it points north

- She kept the straw Lula. She’s giving it to Eva 😭. There’s hope for her yet

[kurt-hummel-eat-your-heart-out]

John Bendy boy(Bender) with a trans masc reader who comes out to him as trans and he’s like “I knew.” Turns out he had a feeling all along and you tell him your preferred name(let it be known that he will mess up ANYONE who deadnames you.)

Omg I love this idea! @screamfome Tysm for the request I appreciate it from the very bottom of my heart🫶🫶🫶 sorry if this is a little late, I got sick over the weekend😭

John Bender (The Breakfast Club) x transmasc reader

Disclaimers/warnings?: reader has fears of era-typical transphobia, I put like the tiniest sprinkle of angst in here w that. This is written from 2nd person btw. Also relationship between John and reader is platonic in this.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The creeping chill of winter had made its way into the November air. This thanksgiving break was a much needed one. School had already been dragging you down the moment the year started, so you were always happy when you could catch a break. You were practically in distress at the fact that you were going back to school tomorrow already.

Not only were you dreading this approaching Monday, you were dreading a meet up that you had planned. You’d been the one asking John to meet up, saying that you had something you wanted to talk about. You were the one who initiated it, so why were you tempted to chicken out now?

You couldn’t help but pace around the sidewalk outside the diner you’d told him to go to. If he was really your friend he wouldn’t mind, right? I mean, who would he tell? It’s not like anyone else could see past his intimidation tactics like you had, so it’s not like he would leave you for this. Right?

John was just about the closest friend you’d ever had in your life. The way he understood you was almost indescribable. You and him were one in the same sometimes, it was like you two shared brain cells. The same thought process, similar views on your classmates, the works. You didn’t know how you two did it, you just… worked.

You knew you were pretty much his only friend, so it’s not like he would abandon you. At least, you thought so.

As you paced around, your nerves grew worse. It was no big deal, all you had to do was just… tell him you were a man. Totally casual, not at all off-putting. You mumbled your spiel you’d lost sleep over reciting to yourself.

‘Hey John, guess what. I’m a boy… no. I’m a man- fuck, no. I’m a dude. Does that sound better…?’ This train of thought was going nowhere. You let out a frustrated sigh, stopping your nervous pacing to lean against the wall. You’d heard cold things were supposed to calm you down, but this air was doing nothing to help you.

It felt like what you’d planned was leaving your memory, breaking off in little pieces until you couldn’t remember any of it. You buried your face in your hands, groaning in exasperation. The more you let yourself think about it, the more you’d psych yourself out.

Just then, you felt a light shove to your shoulder. You stumbled away from the wall, spinning around to see none other than the reason for your unease. John stood in front of you with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

“Yo, jackass.” He flashed his signature smirk, something you’d grown accustomed to seeing over the years. You could never get past how white he managed to get his teeth, it was the first thing you’d notice about him. That and little jingle his belt chains made when he walked. Usually you could hear him before he even rounded a corner, he used to joke that you were ‘telekinetic, or some magic shit’. His words, not yours.

“Where’s mister spidey-senses today, huh? Is he on vacation, to the cape perhaps?” He talked in that snooty little rich girl voice he often did to mock this sophomore in your biology class.

“Alright, didn’t know we invited Claire to the function.” You rolled your eyes playfully at him. You turned around, motioning for him to follow you inside the diner. His belt chain jingled in time with the bell on the front door, soon being silenced by the shouting of a waitress telling you to ‘Sit wherever ya like!’. You promptly chose a booth all the way towards the back of the aisle, John following suite.

“All the way back here, huh? Not trying to pull something on me, right?” He laughed softly, leaning into the uncomfortable booth cushions.

He took his usual unruly position, slouching with no particular care for his posture or appearance. You took a more reserved position. Your arms were crossed on the table, your gaze was thrown out the window, staring at the fading sun in the distance. This was one of many sunsets you’d seen with John. That was a secret of his you’d kept; he loved to watch sunsets.

“It’s really pretty tonight, isn’t it?” You mumbled, not really expecting an answer out of him. You were sort of just avoiding what you knew you had to tell him.

“Mhm…” He turned from you to the window, replicating the way you crossed your arms. As you turned back to him, you felt a sudden wave of dread. The blank-mindedness hit you again, leaving you scrambling for any thought you could remember.

“So uh, Bender…” You hesitated. You knew you had to tell him, it was the entire point of you two meeting here. You’d figured he would want to sit down for this one.

“Mhm?” His eyes were still on the bleeding red and orange hues in the sky, seemingly absorbed in the sight. If he was distracted, maybe this wouldn’t be such a shock. You only hoped.

“So I um… I didn’t ask you to hang for no reason. Actually I kinda need to spill something pretty important.” You looked down at your hands, picking at your nails. One of them was uneven from the last session of nervous fidgeting you’d had while waiting for him outside.

“‘Sup? Shit, did your dog finally kick the bucket?” His expression was serious now. One of his favorite parts of going over to your house, besides getting out of his own, was getting to see your old German shepherd. You shook your head, laughing a bit at his assumption.

“No, missy is fine. I- um” Inconveniently, you were cut off by the waitress who had greeted you not even two minutes before. You were startled by the loud request for an order from the both of you, to which you quietly asked for just some coke. John said the same, just not as quiet (not to your surprise).

“So…” you started as soon as the waitress sped away to the back kitchen. You did a quick search of the tables in front of you, just to make sure nobody you knew, or anyone for that matter, was near your booth.

“So? C’mon, this ain’t junior high. Tell me your little secret already.” He settled back into his slouched position, keeping his arms crossed. You noticed that his look still remained a little serious, which did absolutely nothing to soothe your nerves.

“Okay, so it’s uh, pretty important. Just, whatever you do, don’t go telling anyone. Okay? I don’t care if you get mad or look at me like I’m a fuckin’ weirdo. Just… this stays between us, okay?” You reciprocated his stare, perhaps a bit more intensely. You needed him to know that this wasn’t a time for jokes. You wouldn’t be able to take it if he insulted you about this, or worse, brought it up to anyone.

“Well shit… you okay man?” He seemed worried. Which was odd for him, considering he tried to keep up as much of a carefree act as he could. He usually tried to act like he couldn’t give two shits about anyone, but when it came to you it was different.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just nervous, is all.” You paused, trying to recollect any memory of the little speech you had prepared in your head. It was still a bust, so you decided to just ad-lib it.

“Okay, fuck it. John I’m- look I know the way I look is, well, I guess butch-y? For lack of a better word. Okay, what if I told you that wasn’t dressin’ the way I do to be different or uh, make a statement or something.” You rambled on, not really knowing how to get to your point anymore. All your thoughts just jumbled into a big mess, and there wasn’t much you could do to sort it out.

“I guess the way I dress and reason I got my hair like this is because, um. I see myself as a man. A guy, a dude, whatever you wanna call it. Yeah, I know I don’t one hundred percent look the part, but that’s me. I’ve realized that that’s who I am.” You ran a hand through your hair, the nerves slightly wearing off as you got everything out.

Then you met John’s gaze and promptly began to panic. He wasn’t saying anything or making any motion, just staring at you. Your expression dropped as the weight of your words set it. His lack of words spurred on thoughts of your worst fears, and the possibility of them becoming a reality. You felt a tear prick the corner of your eye, immediately looking away from the embarrassment of it all. You usually weren’t one to cry, but this could warrant it.

As he saw your panic, his expression immediately changed from stoic to concerned. “Oh shit, no you’re fine. I promise, you’re fine. I mean…” He reached out to grab your arm, reassuring you that his reaction towards you wasn’t negative.

“I kinda knew already, I just didn’t think you’d ever say it.” He gave your forearm a gentle squeeze, trying to get you to look at him.

Upon hearing this, you turned back towards him. Your face held a mix of shock and relief, surprised he wouldn’t thought about you like that in the first place and relieved that he wasn’t looking at you like some freak.

“Wait really? I didn’t think I’d be so easy to read…” You muttered, taking a deep breath in to try to keep yourself from tearing up even more. “Shit, part of me was thinkin’ you’d be kickin’ my ass over this.” You confessed to him, laughing it off now that you knew things were okay.

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Especially not you, you’re kind of my ride or die. You know that.” His words were calming your nerves. Your heart was still beating like crazy, but at least you weren’t walking out of this diner in hysterics.

“I mean hey,” he continued “I’ve got a gay cousin. You remember Tommy, right? Nobody in the family talks to him anymore, but I’ve visited a couple times. He’s doing okay on his own, but I’ve heard what it’s like for him. I would never, ever, do that to you. I couldn’t just up and stop talking to you, you kidding? And not to be dramatic here,” He paused for a moment, looking to be figuring out how to phrase things in his head.

“But you’re like, my guy. You’ve got my back when I know some of these sons-of-bitches only hang around me for the dope. You ain’t like that though, I think you can always see who I really am when nobody else does. It’s just weird, it’s like you know me better than I know myself sometimes.” The look in his eyes was one you didn’t see often. His rough exterior was gone, you could see his genuine self. It was nice when he was like this.

“But anyways, my point is I’m not letting anything change that.” He gave your arm one final pat before letting go, but he still kept that soft gaze on you. It was sort of weird, how sometimes he just knew what to say.

“Thank you, John.” You sighed contentedly, everything in your world was just about right now. “Well, I guess I should go over a few things then. You wouldn’t mind callin’ me something else, would you? I was kind of thinkin’ of a different name to try out.”

“Well shit, yeah.” John smiled at you. He seemed happy, and maybe a little excited about this. He’d always sort of seen you as someone like him in that aspect, so knowing that you were feeling more yourself made him happy. A thought came to him though, so he interrupted you for a moment. “Oh, and just know this. If anyone ever dares to fuck with you, you let me know. I'll knock some fuckin' lights out." He crossed his arms, giving you a smirk.

The waitress soon came back with your cokes, asking if either of you were going to order anything else. You shrugged at John, being both broke and not that hungry. So, much to your waitress's dismay, he said no. She sped off back to the front counter, grumbling about something or the other. You and John laughed it off, throwing around the idea of loitering just to piss her off.

You were glad you'd asked him to meet you here. Taking that chance was worth it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Lmk if I made any typos or if you have any constructive criticism:D

[splickedylit]

I reread domestic diplomacy for the umpteenth time and it’s just! So! Good! I love love love how from Dave’s perspective Gamzee is an absolutely fuckoff enormous clown monster who apparently stalked straight out of a horror movie and into Dave’s life as part of his alien boyfriend’s traditional alien polycule. I’m cracking up just contemplating it, it’s such a good dynamic! Especially with all the xenolinguistics and communication difficulty! 😂

I love how your Makaras are typically written as being on the absolute upper end of the troll height range, which it looks like is out beyond nearly all human outliers. It sort of sounds like the troll height distribution of your stories has a broader range in general than human heights? Or would you say that the average troll is taller than the average human, and the spread is comparable?

Hee, thank you very much! I think Dave definitely was feeling like a pretty cool dude who was totally chill about his boyfriend's weird alien stuff, but Karkat's a pretty entry-level alien as far as aliens go, lol. Turns out they also come in "7+ foot fish-goat-bug alien in clown paint" flavor.

RE: heights, I would say...hm. The average troll height is a little taller than the average human height, although the mode--sorry to break out math concepts haha--is about the same! Most trolls you meet are about normal human-sized. But I've had a long-time headcanon that trolls just continue to grow as long as they're alive, so very long-lived highbloods create dramatic outliers that bias the overall average upward! Average troll is over 6 feet is actually statistical error: Big Motherfucker Peixes, who has been growing for thousands of years and is the size of a truck, is an outlier adn should not have been counted haha

I will also say, on top of that, I think of my Tall Makaras as not even "the upper end of the range", but as outlying the range completely! Like, that at 15-20 sweeps, Gamzee is at the height that would be expected from a highblood several hundred sweeps his senior. And the GHB, at multiple hundreds of sweeps old, is bigger than literally anybody, and pretty much only matched by the Condesce, who's ridiculously old and has been growing the whole time like a lobster haha.

I find it very fun if all twelve of the main trolls we get in canon have like. Some form of mutation, or something outside of the norm about them--some of those are canon (Equius's strength, Nitram wings, Karkat's blood, Kanaya the rainbow drinker), and some of them are me having fun! And, y'know, making the Makaras big enough that even other trolls who are used to big highbloods see them and go (°ロ°)

[stuairi675]

Entry 5: 23/10/24 - Why Bela Lugosi is the Scariest Vampire of Film

No this isn’t meant to come across as pretentious. I know the film is old as balls and as such is about as thrilling as a sock puppet opera operated by your nan (which doubles playfully as a description of the effects on display, especially if you’re watching the American one and not the Spanish).

I’m not trying to be snooty about the Draculas that followed, look down at them and proclaim myself as the most cultured dude at the Monster Mash, but Dracula 1931 I think possesses a quality that all following iterations quite lack. 

And this lacking isn’t necessarily a bad thing, they’re just different, and different is good, particularly when it comes to a character as prevalent as our Vlad. It’s why Doctor Who has survived so long. Characters like Dracula, or James Bond or the Joker that seem to transcend the original actors that portrayed them need variety or they’ll straight up wither and  die with the rest of their zeitgeist. Just look at the ragged remains of Indianna Jones: every time they stick Harrison Ford’s haggard jowls onto the poster of another modern foray into that franchise a bit of me just wants to get on my knees and beg for them to put him out of his misery (Indianna Jones, not Harrison, although there is an argument for that if his appearances on recent talk shows are anything to go by).

Moving on…

I goddamn love vampires. Always have. Every aspect, every version - even the stupid shit. From the horror shlock of the Hammer Sequels to the bedazzled luminescence of the tween vampire romance craze. 

It’s funny this, because in terms of media presence I’ve begun to consider them, if not the opposite, then as some sort of bizarro reflection of elves (I mean I defy you to watch Blade or Underworld and tell me those aren’t just alt elves). And whilst my opinion of elves has already been well logged, I find myself regarding vampires with more favour, perhaps because they make no bones about how much they’d be dicks to humanity if they actually existed. Elves would be superior around you, but pretend not to know the reason why; vamps would straight up call you an inferior worm and have you on your knees, and I find something about that oddly… appealing… 

Ahem. Moving on.

And of course, if you like vampires it stands to reason that you’d bloody love Dracula, and if that’s the case, you're spoiled for choice when it comes to varieties. I should know, me and my brother for the past couple of months having been going through as many Universal Monster movies as we could get our mitts on, and naturally that results in quite a helluva lot of Draculas, but the one that has consistently stayed with me throughout is, arguably, the first (sorry Nosferatu, you’re cool but you go out a bit like a nerd).

And the specific thing that stays with me about Dracula 1931’s performance is his inhumanity, or rather the inhumanity subtly hiding behind his delivered humanity. This may seem like an odd thing to comment upon as, given the constraints of film making at the time, he, arguably, is the Dracula version that spends most time as a human, and it seems like all future iterations want to do is emphasise how much a monstrous beast he truly is/has become (Dracula 1958, Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Dracula Untold etc,) ergo 1931 has to be the most human seeming Dracula, surely? He’s just a guy, afterall.

I disagree. I think the opposite is true.

And this is a pretty typical result when a creative work is met with constraint - innovation. They couldn’t have him transform into an enormous man-bat thing and clatter a werewolf across a laboratory (Van Helsing), and they couldn’t have him fly about the place, hissing and tearing out throats (Hammer Dracula and Bram Stoker’s Dracula respectively), so what did they do? 

They made his human presence the scariest fucking thing in the world.

And no it’s not the scariest thing in terms of like shock horror, but cerebrally, it chills me to the bone. The Dracula in Dracula 1931 is an inhuman monster, put on this earth to do little more than feed on the blood of humans. He has no ulterior motive, no reincarnated love, no tragic backstory, just all the powers of the night, a preference for O negative and a one track mindset - feed.

I’m reminded of two things when I see him: Rob Zombie’s Halloween and John Carpenter’s The Thing (crazy, I know). The former comes from the little speech Dr Loomis gives when talking about Micheal Miers (the er, killer, not Shrek, unless some serious revelations come to light about the Shrek one, in which case, both) in where he says: “These eyes do not see what you and I can see. Behind these eyes, one finds only blackness, the absence of light. These are the eyes of a psychopath.”

That is the most fitting description I can come up with when it comes to Bela Lugosi’s performance. There is nothing behind those eyes. They’re not even bestial, they’re just empty. All that dialogue, all those interactions, all those little touches - fake. 

And this comes in quite beautifully with my comparison with the Thing, because the Thing is a creature of near perfect mimicry, down to the cell, down to the personality, and I just find the concept of a creature as soulless and hollow as either the Thing or Dracula being able to so effectively mimic human behaviour without possessing even a glimmer of humanity themselves so god damn unnerving. 

It’s a lure, an angler fish’s lamp, aggressive mimicry directed specifically at humans. And it makes you wonder. If whatever Dracula presents himself as is fake, what is he really like? We’re given no other possibilities, so we’re left having to just assume there’s nothing. 

I just find something so inherently terrifying about this concept, the harsh simplicity to Dracula 1931's existence. All the other Draculas have some aspect of them that's recognisable as being human, be it wrath, pride, lust, happiness and so forth. A descent into beasthood still comes from a human place, and even when they morph into some ungodly puppet or cg beast, there's still something in that we, as humans - living, breathing, thinking, sentient creatures - can understand. Contemplating the higher brain functions of Dracula 1931 is like trying to contemplate the structure of the void.

To bring in a third movie comparison: insect politics. The associated vampiric creature with our Vlad shouldn’t ever have been a bat, or a wolf - it should have been a spider.

There is no love, no compassion, no mercy, no soul, no person. Behind those eyes, there are no thoughts, save for the instincts of an ambush predator.

That is all there is: the prey, the predator, the latter’s dark, endless hunger and whatever means through which it might be able to sate it. 

Ruairi

P.S: I know Bela Lugosi wasn’t the first on screen Dracula either, but like… he’s first anyone cares about so like shut up.

[ask-dcf]

Spider OC: Spider-Pharaoh

“My name is Tutankhamun. You may know me by how the westerners call me in their gift shops. King TUT. But you can call me Kham. I was once a Pharaoh who ruled over a large desert kingdom and I did so for 10 years despite it being forced onto me when I was 9. After I was murdered by Ay, the goddess of Spiders, Neith took pity on me and gave me abilities of the mighty spider. Along with some enchanted blades I became the boogeyman of armies and evil monsters. After taking revenge on Ay. I went into a deeeep nap in my own coffin. Till some westerners decided to rob my coffin a few thousand years later. I woke up to find out I’m not only in another country but another TIME. How crazy is that? I then met this pretty girl known as Faline who took pity on my lack of knowledge on simple hygiene and fashion sense. I swear she must’ve been a queen in another life. Oh but she is definitely a witch! But the good kind! In this witchy community thing. Basically she likes magic. Saying it could help the environment. Anyways after a bit of self reflecting and thinking and almost dying cuz I didn’t have my enchanted swords with me. So I thought about going home. But then Faline ended up getting grabbed by the same robbers. And after the goddess popping up and giving me the basic “It’s your life now. Choose how you weave it” I decided that I ain’t gonna let a damsel in distress go unsaved. After a bit of new threads made thanks to my blades. And stealing a cool coat I saw. (Stealing bad kids). I saved Faline and made myself at home with this “New York”. Oh yeah! And Faline knows about my abilities and masked self. She just doesn’t know I was an undead king killer. And since all that I have been the one and only “Spider-Pharaoh””

——————————————————————————————————

So yeah this is my spider oc for all the spider hype. Who I can thank a few friends for inspiring me XD Few things about this Spider OC this is actually supposed to be an Egyptian Spider-man different race and all. I did a lot of research in this and I’m not sure if I got a lot of things right. I’m hoping I did with the details. If I mixed a few things up feel free to tell me. As for the color scheme I really do like it. The gold and yellow sorta mix well and does remind you of the typical Egyptian scripture colorings. All in all I am proud of this. He meant to be a chill dude and shares his wisdom at times while of course cracking a few jokes. If any of my friends wanna draw him with their ocs or sona’s they are very much so. And if anyone has mod questions about him feel free to ask. ^^ I may tweak him a little bit Aswell as his story. Will see how it is.

Art by @xjunjox

[lavendarlily]

ectoberhaunt day 11: calm @ectoberhaunt

the one where i write a ghost nip fic

words: 2744

read it on ao3

cw: underage drug use yes and no?

tucker and sam just want danny to take a night off.

this is so cringe sorry

Being strung out was becoming Danny’s default these days. 

For whatever reason, ghost activity had jumped up significantly in the last week. Even if he wanted to investigate it further, he couldn’t, because there were just that many ghosts to deal with. 

Saturday evening rolled around, and to Danny’s absolute shock, he’d been able to lay in bed undisturbed now for twenty minutes. He even considered risking it and finally taking a shower. It’d probably been a good three to four days since his last, and chasing after loose spirits tended to get one pretty sweaty.

Danny raised an arm and sniffed. Oof. Yeah, he needed to shower. 

He walked across the hall to the bathroom and started the water. While he typically didn’t mind cold showers due to his body temperature, a hot one sounded like a blessing on his aching body. 

Danny peeled off his clothes, and held back a groan. Jeez, he really needed a break. At this point he wasn’t sure if his healing was slowing down as a result of his tiredness, or the beatings were so constant that he never had enough time to heal before the next one. 

Once he was clean (was it actually possible to have that much dirt under your fingernails?), Danny dared to put on an old hoodie and sweatpants that had been all but forgotten the last few weeks. Peak comfort. He wandered back to his bedroom, and lost all sense of peace from his shower when he found two people in his room that he was not expecting. 

“Jesus! What are you guys doing here?” he yelped.

Sam and Tucker stared back at him with shocked expressions.

“What? Why are you looking at me like I’m the intruder?”

“Dude…look at yourself,” Tucker said in a low voice.

Danny looked down at the rest of his body. Where his hoodie and sweatpants were only a moment ago had been replaced by his hazmat suit, and his feet were now hovering a few inches above the ground.

He’d transformed to Phantom without even meaning to. Danny exhaled and closed his eyes slowly, then dropped his ghostly form. 

“Shit guys, I’m so sorry. Everything going on lately has me a little jumpy.”

Tucker and Sam exchanged a look.

“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. We’re worried that you aren’t taking care of yourself,” Sam began.

“And we’re not letting you get worse,” Tucker finished. He turned to fish something out of his backpack behind him, and held out a small vial to Danny, who looked at it questioningly.

Sam noticed his hesitance and explained, “It’s something we got from Frostbite. We reached out to him because we’ve been so concerned. He told us this would help you cool off, and you deserve a night of rest.”

Let it be known that Danny always appreciated his friends looking out for him. He knew he probably would’ve died-died the first week of having his ghost powers if they weren’t there. But this was something they didn’t understand.

“I can’t just leave the city unprotected,” he argued. 

“We know that - which is why Jazz and your parents are patrolling tonight,” Tucker assured. 

“Guys I really don’t think-”

“About yourself? Your well-being? Yeah, we noticed.”

The glare Sam received from Tucker prompted her to backtrack.

“We care a lot about you, Danny. But even heroes need a break.” She grabbed the small vial from Tucker and placed it in Danny’s hand. “It’s just one night.” 

Danny looked at the small vial of…whatever it was…and back at his friends. Deep down, he knew they were right - between his parents and Jazz things would most likely be okay for the night. And if what he was holding was really supposed to help him chill…then maybe he could stop worrying about it altogether and just enjoy a night off. 

He raised the vial to eye level and studied the contents. Inside was what seemed to be a glowling, finely ground substance, definitely ghostly in nature. 

He squinted at it. “Do you guys even know what this is?”

They both shrugged. “Frostbite said it was a natural medicine. Other than that, he didn’t offer much,” Tucker explained.

“Do I…just eat it?” Danny asked.

Sam bit her lip. “What if you smoked it?” she cautiously suggested. Out of the three of them, Sam was the most adventurous in…exploring self-medication. Danny shied away from it, among other mind-altering substances, in fear of losing control of his ghost half, dreading it could result in a numerous amount of bad endings. While Tucker wasn’t opposed to it, he knew he was better off dead if his parents found out. 

“I don’t know…,” Danny trailed off, as Sam already had repossessed the vial and began grabbing various items from her backpack. In a matter of seconds, Sam triumphantly held up a rolled piece of paper containing the contents of the vial. She held out a lighter in her other hand, and Danny hesitantly grabbed the paraphernalia.

When he didn’t make a move, Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed the cone from him, and placed it between his lips. Snatching the lighter, she struck a flame and held it to the end of what Danny decided to just call a joint. 

“Now just take a gentle breath,” she coaxed. 

Danny sucked in a shallow breath and immediately coughed at the discomfort in his throat, hunching over with his hands on his knees. Sam held the smoking paper away from him, and patted his back, giggling.

“You okay champ?” she laughed.

Danny glared up at her. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Come on dude, you barely gave it a chance,” Tucker argued from the bed.

“I really don’t know how I feel about my friends peer pressuring me to do drugs,” he grumbled, righting himself. He nonetheless grabbed the joint back from Sam and stuck the paper between his lips. 

“Danny, shut up and smoke the ghost weed.”

“It’s literally prescribed. Don’t be a pussy,” Tucker jeered. 

If looks could kill, the one Danny sent to Tucker would’ve had him six feet under immediately. He turned to Sam and gave her nod, allowing her to once again strike the lighter. This time he felt better prepared for the sensation, sucking a small amount of smoke in and allowing it to sit in his lungs, before exhaling it out. 

Sam gave him a devilish grin. “I’m so glad to have finally corrupted you.”

“This is different.”

She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything further on the matter, instead chastising him for letting the joint go out as she relit it again . 

HIs two friends refused to do anything else until Danny had smoked a sufficient amount of what they decided to refer to as “ghost weed”, then decided to go downstairs and set up for a movie. Tucker went into the kitchen to make some popcorn while Sam stayed with Danny in the living room to pick out a movie. 

“How about a nature documentary? This one just came out and it’s supposed to be amazing.” She scrolled through the different episodes and landed on one about African wildlife.

Danny was indifferent - he figured he’d probably end up asleep by the time the intro rolled; a nap on the couch was calling his name. 

The trio settled in, and Sam pressed play.

Maybe ten minutes into the documentary, Danny felt a little buzz in his head and a numbness in his body. 

Twenty minutes in, he felt a little delirious, but nothing more than that.

Thirty minutes in, he was laughing silently, but so hard that his body was shaking and tears were streaming down his face. Sam must’ve caught him from the corner of her eye, because she turned and asked, “Oh my god, are you okay Danny? What’s wrong?”

“Is he crying?” was Tucker’s response to his friend’s behavior.

Danny finally let out an audible laugh and pointed at the screen, which was currently showing two male giraffes fighting for dominance.

“They’re just- fucking look at them- fucking noodles just whacking- I can’t,” he stuttered between laughs, almost breathless. 

Sam and Tucker exchanged a look as their friend completely unraveled before them.

Danny continued to lose it throughout the entire giraffe segment. The film then shifted and brought them to Madagascar, introducing the lemurs and their agility in the trees. Danny then began pointing at the TV with finger guns, providing “pew pew” noises as he pretended to shoot at the animals while they jumped from tree to tree on the screen. An ecto-ray came through from one of his “pews” and blasted a hole straight through the television. Danny’s eyes went wide before he fully lost it.

“DID YOU GUYS SEE THAT?” he cried as he rolled on the floor laughing. “I shot- I shot a hole through the TV oh my god guys this is the most ridiculous shit ever I can’t-”

He continued to laugh uncontrollably, holding his stomach as he laid on the floor.

“Oh, he’s high as fuck,” observed Tucker. 

“Best to just let him get it out of his system,” Sam said. “As long as he’s not freaking out, I’m not concerned.”

“What do we do now? TV’s obviously busted.”

“I’M HUNGRY,” whined the voice from the floor. 

“...Guess I’m ordering pizza then,” Sam replied, reaching for her phone and dialing up the local pizza place. 

Danny climbed back up on the sofa, laying across the two. “What happened to the movie?” he pouted. 

“Dude, you literally blasted a hole through the TV,” Tucker deadpanned. 

“Nooooo it came like that,” Danny argued. “I wanna see more animals.”

“Sorry bud.” 

Sam finished her call and returned to the two boys. “Pizza’s ordered - now what?” (this question was more directed at Tucker for obvious reasons).

Danny had slumped back down towards the floor - his upper half still on the sofa while his lower body hung off. “I’m hungryyyyy,” he whined again.

“Pizza should only take like twenty minutes,” Sam said. 

“But I want it nowwww.”

Sam huffed, then stood, looking down at him. “Fine, let’s go to the kitchen and get you a snack.” She reached out her hand for him to take, and led him into the other room, Tucker in tow.

She sat him down at the table, and pulled her phone back out. Pulling up Tik Tok, she shoved the phone into Danny’s hands in hopes of keeping him distracted for the time being. The mish-mash of ten second music clips took over the kitchen while Sam explored the cabinets. In the fridge she found a bowl of grapes that she lazily slid in front of Danny, who was now completely enraptured in the social media before him. 

“He’s like a toddler,” Tucker said. “And we’re literally babysitting him.”

“This is kinda what we wanted though? At least he’s got his mind off things. Just wish we didn’t have to literally drug him to get him to take a break,” Sam said, sitting and resting her chin on her fists. She added, “I don’t mind babysitting one night if it means he gets a night of rest.”

The doorbell rang, interrupting their conversation.

“Must be the pizza,” she said, then stood up and went to answer the door. When she returned with the food, she expected to see the boys how she left them, but was greeted with a much stranger sight.

She hadn’t even been gone that long.

Danny’s seat was now empty. Instead, he had moved on to singing and dancing around the kitchen. The song Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! was now playing through the speakers of her phone. She glanced at Tucker, who was not so secretly recording their friend making the kitchen his stage. 

Laughing, Sam set down the pizzas, and was immediately grabbed by Danny, who started twirling her around. He paused only to lift Tucker from his seat to join his dance party, which very quickly devolved into his two friends watching him with a mix of amusement and relief. 

It’d been so long since they’d seen this side of him. 

The song ended, earning a frown from Danny. He went to snatch the phone and replay it, but Sam intercepted. 

“Hey, you wanted food, remember?” She reminded him, as she went to collect three plates and began serving out the pizza. 

“Pizza? For me?” Danny looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he stared at the hot piece of greasy, cheesy goodness in front of him. He dug in, moans of pleasure escaping as he inhaled his slice.

Tucker scrunched his nose. “Dude. It’s just pizza. You’re eating it, not having sex with it.”

“Mmph it’s so good,” he replied through a mouthful. “I’m so horny for pizza.”

“Danny! ”

Once he was satiated, Danny slumped back into his seat, eyes closed and a small smile on his face. “I wanna go flying,” he said dreamily. “Flying sounds nice.” 

“Not sure that’s such a good idea,” Tucker cautioned. Danny opened his eyes and looked at his friend annoyed. 

“I want to fly,” he repeated stubbornly. Before Sam or Tucker could say anything more, he shifted and disappeared through the ceiling. The two scrambled from their seats and bolted towards the roof of the residence, hoping to catch their friend before he flew off to who knows where in his altered state of mind. 

Once on the roof, they desperately looked in every direction for Danny to no avail. A sudden chill went up their spines, their only warning before a “BOO!” startled them from behind. 

“Danny, what the hell!” Sam yelled, the ghost before them hysterically laughing. 

“Get it guys? Because I’m a ghost? I totally got you!” he cried. His laughter slowed a little, a wave of realization washing over his face. He looked down at his hands and whispered. “I’m a ghost.” He returned his gaze to his friends. 

“Why am I a ghost?” he asked softly.

Sam groaned internally and threw her head back - this was heading towards a freak out, if she knew any better. Tucker reached out towards him, sensing the same thing. 

Danny backed away from the touch, his expression moving from confusion to sorrow. 

His head was swirling and his thoughts hitting him like bullets he couldn't defend against. It was all coming at him so fast, circling his mind again and again. He was a ghost, he wasn’t human, he was a freak, who could love a freak? 

“I’m a freak,” he whispered to no one in particular. While he was distracted by his own thoughts, Sam and Tucker leapt at their friend, trapping him in the middle of a hug. This time he didn’t fight their affection, and let them bring him towards the ground. 

“You’re not a freak,” Tucker said from his side of Danny. “You’re a hero.”

“You put everyone else first, even if they don’t deserve it,” Sam added. “You bring so much good to the world.”

“And we love you, no matter if you’re human, ghost, or something in between,” Tucker finished.

The body between them let out a shaky breath, and suddenly the cold mass became warm again as he shifted back to his human half.

“Sorry guys, whatever is in my system definitely has me all wonky,” Danny croaked, causing his friends to chuckle. 

“You don’t say?” Tucker laughed. 

“How are you feeling now?” Sam asked. 

Danny sighed, then, “I feel like that short existential crisis sobered me up a bit, but I’m not as erratic anymore.” He grinned sheepishly. “Maybe we just go back and finish the documentary?”

Tucker scoffed. “Danny, you broke the TV, remember?” 

Danny’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit, I did do that. How am I gonna explain that to my parents?”

“Ghost attack,” his friends said in unison. 

“I mean, that’s not technically a lie.” Danny shifted back to his ghostly alter-ego and stood. “Why don’t we go to my room and watch something on my laptop then?” His friends smiled up at him and took his hands, sinking back down into the home. The three of them somehow managed to squeeze onto his small bed with the computer at the foot playing the rest of the movie. At some point, their chatter and laughter trailed off into soft snores as Danny was accompanied in his first peaceful night of sleep in weeks. 

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

[I wrote this post like a diary entry, personal feelings here, I like to write my thoughts down to process them and also purge them so I don’t have this whole mental debate every time someone appears in my notifications to say something to spark it etc etc]

I can be very "don't knock it till you try it" about things, and part of what actually made me realize how acespec (or demi) Simon reads, how much he centers his desire in Baz etc is actually engaging with content that argues the opposite. I remember when I was still reading the books (I think it was february, last year?) I saw something like "we can all agree Simon likes more than one gender based on [insert boobs quote]" and I was like "oh sure, totally" – it was... months? later that I went back to that like "wait a minute... no, we do not agree, please read that quote again but slowly." Or it was seeing content where Simon was into Agatha that made me realize the difference between the assumptions people make vs the things that are actually said by Simon and Agatha and how they express it vs (maybe more importantly) the things that are never said. Seeing Simon portrayed as ~typical young boy crushing on the Pretty Girl~ is part of what made me realize how he’s not actually like that – and likely has never been like that – with her. The way he expresses himself in what he thinks and the formative things from the past he shares (like saying he has always “wanted her” in a memory where he is actually wondering how it feels to be like her) (and the things he never thinks!) about her doesn’t support it. The first time I read that inanimate objects I was like "so he was attracted? yikes" (my first read with those two, even before giving them any thought, was a constant "yikes"... I Did Not Like their Vibes, I'll tell you that much). It was a second or maybe a third read of that scene that got me like "oh, this sneaky little mess is not even answering the damn question here.... he completely avoids giving a real answer until he starts saying he doesn’t think he was attracted... You almost fooled me, Simon. You almost fooled me..."

Part of me realizing how Simon is really not experiencing attraction whenever he says someone is cute or whatever is looking at content that argues otherwise – it's in seeing why this is argued. Or how, despite me seeing the appeal and loving some characters who are Total Sluts, when it’s Simon I’m like “I don’t knock your game or your hoe ways but I might as well call you Willy or Jon or something.” It’s just became essential to who Simon is, to me, the things he’s communicating when he’s calling himself a “Baz-sexual,” and the way in which he doesn’t see the appeal of sex for the sake of sex. I've personally come to hate slut Simon AUs, actually (there's a difference between being A Slut and being horny) (Simon is only horny around one person) (I understand that sometimes, the appeal is no deeper than “X is hot, the people want to see X fuck!!” but to me it doesn’t apply here because it just stops feeling like it’s him and not Willy boy or whoever.) 

I don't write as much about Baz only because of how clear he is in his thoughts, whereas Simon is easy to misinterpret, or tricky to figure out, but: I also don't think Baz would be into the Slut Life, or that he would be into or remain into someone who's enjoying a life of slutdoom (as a compatibility thing, I mean. This dude sees mule-headed Simon sticking his chin out to single-mindedly commit and he's suppressing an exasperated sigh and a boner) (his exchange with Dev makes me think he's pretty chill about others being Sluts, but I don’t think it’s something he wants for himself or would be into in a potential partner; he dreads a future where he might be sneaking out to sleep around – which to me speaks more to how he doesn't think he would fall in love with anyone who isn't Simon, rather than him desiring casual sex. He wants emotional connection and devotion and commitment and monogamy). I have a stronger "nope" reaction with Simon, and I think part of it it's that Simon hits a very specific spot in the way he engages with intimacy that I don't often see in media, much less with male characters. It’s part of why I’m drawn to him, and like I said: when you remove the things he communicates with his “baz-sexual” comments, I think an essential part of what makes the character goes missing and... I miss it, when it’s not there. I think about how in the MRB AU, even when Simon didn’t hope for more than just Baz’s friendship, he was completely unable to keep his attention away, or look for something with someone else. He wasn’t going to the clubs or hooking up to decompress or something, it was all Baz for him. Not to be crass, but as soon as even the concept considers him sticking his dick in non-Baz orifices (outside of the very specific comphet scenario where he is notably not even turned on) I'm putting my hands in my pockets, whistling as I look for the exit. Nothing to see here, for me. Just not for me. 

I recognize that part of it it's that I'm here for snowbaz exclusively and I'm not even a little bit interested in reading them in any sort of romantic or sexual scenario with anyone else (or any lasting thing that could come out of it, like co-parenting with someone else or a divorce scenario where there are still ties or something like that) which means there are plenty of stories what I would normally be totally into! but as soon as I cast Simon and Baz in the lead roles specifically... that kinda puts a damper on things, for me. I would read the fuck out of certain stories and concepts, but not necessarily with them. I don’t mind when it’s like, past experiences that are meant to inform things about the characters (but who the ex is it’s none of my business!) I don’t think every story is for every character (although I understand some find the appeal in this sort of approach). Part of the appeal with those two for me is in the ways in which they love each other and how much and how unhinged they are about it (it’s only ever been Simon for Baz and... it’s only ever been Baz for Simon! Even though he dated before! half of this blog is about noting the latter haha he might be less obvious or less direct, but it’s there) For everything else... I’d just rather look elsewhere

[circusgoth-dotcom]

Quick Stop Grocery

Ship: Jay x Bear x Silent Bob

Word Count: 762

Summary: Set before the events of Clerks, Dante (and technically also Randal) gets acquainted with Bear, the most recent addition to whatever Jay and Silent Bob have going on.

Content Warnings: Canon-typical mentions of drugs (mainly weed) and sexuality, 90s cis understanding of gender.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife @groovyships @void-selfships

It was appearing to be an average eleven o’clock on a Sunday in Leonardo, New Jersey, at the Quick Stop grocery and its joint video store. Dante Hicks worked the register at the Quick Stop, while his good friend Randal Graves worked in the video store. Most of the time, Dante had no trouble with customers. They came in, gathered their shit, perhaps bought a pack of cigarettes, and got out.

He’d get the occasional friendly visit from his girlfriend Veronica to make the slow hours go by faster as well. And of course, as always, there were the relatively- in the grand scheme of things -harmless drug dealers that hung around the front of the store. He’d considered shooing them off when they first started loitering, but for once he agreed with Randal: not his store (not like he owned the property, anyway), not his sidewalk to shoo drug dealers off of. Besides, they didn’t seem to be affecting the flow of traffic to the Quick Stop, so why the Hell should he care?

Today was slightly abnormal however, because while there were normally two of these relatively harmless drug dealers, today there were three. Well, maybe the third one wasn’t dealing drugs, but they were certainly with the drug dealers. Despite the generally nice spring weather, the drug dealers’ friend wore several layers: a beanie, a scarf, a sweater, a thick coat, baggy pants, beat up knock-off converse shoes, and fingerless gloves. They glossed the aisles for a short while and soon brought a bottle of Faygo cola, a bag of sour gummy worms, and a Milky Way bar up to the counter.

“That’ll be $7.94,” Dante spoke boredly as he scanned each item. The drug dealers then entered the store. Jay, the thin blond one, eagerly swept around the corner and threw his arm over the stranger’s shoulders.

“Dante, meet my favourite girlboy dudelady, Bear. Bear, this is Dante, I think he’s pretty chill,” Jay grinned.

“Er, nice to meet you, Bear,” Dante finally looked up as Bear handed him the money. Bear nodded in recognition. “About as talkative as the other one, I take it?”

“Hey man, don’t disrespect Silent Bob like that, he has a name, y’know!”

“Sorry.”

“I talk,” Bear spoke up from within his cocoon. “I guess you could say I’m a good balance, but Jay does enough talking for both of us.” He shared a fond look with Silent Bob, the large brunet one, who had taken up the space beside him.

“Damn straight.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment…” Dante breathed, “anything else I can help you with?”

Bear shook his head. “No. Nice finally getting acquainted with you, though.” He held up his fist and Dante awkwardly accepted the invitation to a fist bump.

“Silent Bob wants an Icee, actually,” Jay piped up as SB drifted off to the machine.

“I’m going over to the video store, then,” Bear turned and briefly kissed Jay before floating out of the store.

“Boygirl dudelady??” Dante had to ask.

“Well, yeah, I don’t really understand it but I’m trying my best. Bear was born a chick but now he says he’s a man, but he’s still got tits and a pussy, so,” Jay shrugged. “I’ve only heard of people like him in porn.”

“And you’re dating him?”

“Kind of? He likes to kiss his friends, and shit, pussy is pussy, my dude. Me and Silent Bob share him between ourselves because we’re cool like that.”

Silent Bob came to pay for his Icee, a swirl of cherry and blue raspberry.

“I usually just see the two of you, how’d it come to be a trio??”

“We met at a super tight club. Bear bought weed off us and took us back to his apartment, we didn’t do anything sexual with him but we still found we had a really cool connection. Bear didn’t have any real friends so I said shit, we’re you’re friends now, motherfucker! The rest is history.”

“Good for you.”

“Thank you, man. I better go make sure your friend’s not being a fuckin’ pair of numbnuts to him, though, Bear’s a total movie whore and when you get him going…” Jay whistled and made a wide gesture with his hand. “Bye, Dante!”

And with that, the two drug dealers left. When they entered the video store, they found Bear having a heated discussion over recent horror movies with Randal, though it seemed fairly contained compared to the kinds of arguments Jay and Silent Bob had seen him go off on.

[episodicnostalgia]

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, 101 (Jan. 3, 1993) - "Emissary"

The Breakdown

Captain Benjamin Sisko takes a commission as commander of Starbase Deep Space Nine, in order to aid the Bajorans as they rebuild their civilization following their revolution against, and liberation from, the Cardassian empire.  The only problem is the Bajoran gods (aka ‘The prophets’) are apparently totally real, and also a race of nonlinear alien beings who live inside a wormhole which leads to the far-off Gamma Quadrant.

You see, upon making contact with them, Sisko becomes the chosen Emissary to the Prophets, which accidentally makes him an important religious figure to the Bajoran people. Oopsie! But I think it’s safe to say such a minor thing won’t become much of a complication further down the line.

Sisko doesn't have much time to deal with all that mysticism and superstition stuff right now though, since DS9 has suddenly become super important to the federation and the Bajorans due to it's proximity to the wormhole. Surely this an exciting opportunity for new discoveries, and certainly won't lead to an all-out war with a dangerous new enemy.

The Verdict

For all the clunky dialogue and stilted performances (consistent with most ST pilots) you’ve got to admire just how ambitious ‘Emissary’ is. Unlike other Trek premieres, which tend to be more adventure oriented, this one spends a lot more time on world building, politics, and backstory; it’s evident the show runners were building towards something from the start (even if they hadn’t entirely figured out what that ‘something’ was).

The latter half of the episode is where things get weird, and honestly I’m here for it. The prophets/wormhole-aliens are a pretty solid concept, which leads to some mostly-smart writing, that admittedly gets a bit too proud of how clever it’s being. All said, I prefer it when a show unapologetically takes a swing at an original idea, and while there are some misses here, ‘Emissary’ manages to avoid striking out; which is appropriate considering show’s use of baseball both in this and future episodes.

Had this been DS9’s only episode I would perhaps hold it to greater scrutiny, but thankfully that wasn’t the case. Also, knowing where the show ends up, I have to admire how much the series finale owes to this weird little pilot.

3 stars (out of 5)

Additional Observations

Sisko has no chill. At one point he's shown an interactive-vision/memory of his first meet-cute with Jennifer (his dead wife), courtesy of a mystical bajoran orb (which puts him on the path to making contact with the wormhole aliens/prophets). Based on the interaction we're shown he’s lucky Jennifer didn’t drop kick him when they first met. Give her some personal space dude.

CROSSOVER/CAMEO: Sisko clearly needs trauma counselling, but maybe Starfleet should have known better than to send the embodiment of his wife’s killer to brief him. That exchange between Sisko and Picard was TENSE.  That being said, surely Sisko must realize Picard was violated and stripped of his will during his time with the Borg, right?  Perhaps Starfleet should invest in better compassionate education on the subject, considering that some people still hold Jean Luc responsible for Wolf 359 (a big-deal space battle, if you didn’t know) in the most recent season of ‘Picard’.

Gul Dukat is a great villain and overall character.  Some of the actors take a number of episodes (and even seasons) to grow into their characters, but even as a guest-star Marc Alaimo nails his performance right from the beginning.  Not too over the top, but charismatic as hell.

Having the Wormhole Aliens communicate through Sisko’s memories and thoughts is a clever way of recycling the cast and saving on additional prosthetic makeup or VFX; this method also effectively sets them apart from the typical humanoid species, making them more unique, and highlighting their importance to the series.

DS9’s design really is iconic and that opening score slaps.  In fact, this is probably my favourite Star Trek opening theme.

Lol. It’s nice that Picard honours Sisko’s desire to stay on the station, but he REALLY doesn’t seem fond of the commander. This marks the last time these two characters will interact on screen, and I like to imagine that was an intentional choice by both men, even though it was probably just that Patrick Stewart was too busy/expensive for a return appearance.