#And looking too much into things just frustrates me to no end

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Are you sure you don’t want to move in with me?”

A smile spread on your lips, though it quickly shifted into a frown as you gently set down the heavy cardboard box, holding the rest of your belongings. It had been two months since your father’s monthly payments stopped. Two months since, no matter what you tried, you couldn’t reach your dad or anyone close to him. Two months since you’ve been trying to find a job, but no luck so far. In the end, you decided to move out of the apartment your dad had insisted on you renting, and moved into a smaller and cheaper one.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, I promise.” Your best friend frowned, concern painted across her face. For someone who was usually so carefree, she now looked like she was about to suffer a breakdown.

“I know you don’t like my roommates, but they aren’t so bad once you get to know them. And I’m really worried about leaving you here. This part of town just isn’t safe.” You chuckled and nodded. She was right after all.

The only place you could afford with the rest of your savings was in the part of town everyone was warned to stay away from. The part with the highest crime rate in the entire city. The part where just a few weeks ago, a dead college student had been found. But what were you to do? As much as you loved your friend, her male roommate was creepy and you didn’t like the way he looked at you. No way you’d survive moving in with them. So, the cheap apartment in the creepy part of town it was.

“I’ll be fine, I promise. I have pepper spray and my dad had me learn self-defense. If anyone tries something funny, you’ll have to worry about him, not me!” A grin spread across your lips as you gave her a thumbs up, trying to look as confident as possible. In response, she just rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but…you better facetime me whenever you’re walking home. And have your location on at all times, you hear me?” You nodded and pulled out your phone, quickly turning the location share on, so she would stop worrying. As much as you loved her, it was starting to get repetitive.

Your friend continued to help you, before you ushered her out, telling her to get home safely and before it got dark out. Then you continued to move in, unpacking and slowly getting comfortable. Well…as comfortable as you could get when there were what felt like constant sirens and other noises you weren’t too happy to hear. Banging and moans from your next-door neighbors, screams and crashing from upstairs, and weird gurgling from the hallway. Good thing you had some noise-cancelling headphones, sounded like you would need them.

You had to admit, the first few nights, you didn’t sleep much. The noises and the general paranoia were enough to keep you up, but after a week or so, you got used to it. You put a knife on your nightstand, put a chair against the door, and glasses against the windows. To be honest, you developed your own little routine, which you quite enjoyed. And if you added the job hunt - which had still not been successful - and the work for college, you rarely had the energy to truly care about your situation at the end of the day.

Another week or so went by and you found yourself in the cafe on the campus, sending out more job applications, but it seemed like no one wanted to hire a college student who could only work odd hours. Frustration wafted through you, so you decided to grab another drink and quickly got in line, not paying attention to your surroundings. You promptly gave your order and went to pay, but before you could, the person behind you spoke up, “I got it.”, and before you could interject, they placed tapped their card, and your order was paid for.

When you turned around to thank the kind stranger, you quickly realized it wasn’t a stranger. “Mister Riley?”

A/N: Since it's been almost a year since I posted the idea, let's try this. Let me know what you think!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld

[dolliels]

HANAHAKI..

synopsis: hanahaki + the second years. you don't like them back.

WHAT IS HANAKI? a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. This problem can also be solved if the victim goes through surgery, but since the disease is caused by a grief of such a strong emotion, love, the patient will lose all ability to feel.

riddle 

riddle grew up alone, mostly. every time he seeked for comfort, for company, it’ll fall apart. it would always go wrong, he’d lose everything the moment he got too greedy.

riddle still struggled to properly face trey and chen’ya after all those years, even if he got better with it. it was too embarrassing, too lame. he felt like a loser. a sore loser who deserved nothing. oh sevens, did the world have something against him?

things were looking on the bright side. he was out of his mother’s furious grip, he has more freedom than he ever did (even if he goes by strict rules) he could make as many friends as he liked and hang out with them as much as he liked.

he still preferred being private, however. he liked his friends, you included. they were more understanding of him than any other member of the school. although he’d twist and turn in bed when he thinks back to his overblot (how embarrassing of me! he thinks) he would still much prefer being with those who accepted him a long time ago.

you weren’t too big on sweets. you liked them, sure, but the more you ate the more your mouth felt itchy. knowing riddle’s sweet tooth, sometimes, you’d secretly pass your unfinished slice of cake or unfinished strawberry tart to him. riddle rosehearts, the strict, germaphobic, lowkey a dictator, heartily took it,

if it were anyone else, he’d just stare at them in disbelief. but the thought that you bit into the very sweet treat, it threw him over the moon. he’d read of indirect kisses before, in cheesy romances he read in his spare time. he doesn’t know if this is actually an indirect kiss, but don’t make fun of him, he’s still learning!

riddle has a lot of firsts, like the first time he tried that strawberry tart, or the first time he learned that playing with friends is fun, or the first time he ever overblotted, or the first time he fell in love.

you were his first love.

he turns red when alone, imagining your face and your laughter and your joy. your silly mishaps that he has no heart on lecturing you over, or your inability to understand some of the assignments. he finds all aspects of you cute— wonderful? he doesn’t know how to describe what he’d feeling, but it gets him all giddy.

he’s frustrated often, the way he started blushing violently when you ever get in close contact with him and how you always, always seem to be unaware of this. oblivion would send you to hell.

he’s been feeling quite nauseous lately, probably because of his failed attempts of clumsily sending you signals about how he feels.

it was to a point where he threw up… petals? petals…??????? oh my god, he’s throwing up petals!!!

riddle distinctively remembers reading about this during his first year, a disease of romance, love, and failure.

his heart sinks. maybe that’s why you failed to notice.

things never go his way, riddle thinks. he’s always feeling alone. every time he gets greedy for comfort, he loses it at the highest point of his life. when things are getting better, it takes turns for the worse. that’s why riddle likes to follow the rules.

by his third year, riddle’s back to being his strict, controlling prefect. except something’s different, he’s not as angry anymore. 

that’s to be expected, though. ever since the surgery, riddle has never been the same.

ruggie

He has grown up to treasure everything he has. 

ruggie isn’t as financially stable as others, he wasn’t lucky to be fortunate enough to get what he wants, whenever he wants.

So when he does get what he wants, ruggie makes sure to keep it close to his heart like it means everything. Most of the time, it does mean everything, all of it. his life.

he hardly gives away his things (please don’t mention the kids at the slums, he’ll turn awfully shy.) and takes anything he’s given.

when you would give him the tiniest amount of food, he’d gladly snatch it from your hands and walk away snickering.

easy target for food is what you are, he thinks.

most of the time, when people give things away to him, ruggie just assumes that it’s unwanted. he’d take leftovers no problem. it’s only when you’d constantly hand things to him, always have something to give him and remember he exists, does he think you’re odd. I mean, he’s fine with taking the forgotten leftovers, but what could he possibly do when you don’t forget him?

watch ruggie clumsily fiddle around with his fingers, scanning the area for your presence. he has learned to not worry, as you always manage to come find him everyday without fail. he feels noticed.

he starts to crave for that attention.

ruggie treasures things. he keeps them close in his heart very carefully. but what would he do when you steal his heart instead? where can he hide all the things that mean everything to him?

somehow, he doesn’t mind. he wants you to see him more, ruggie bucchi, his true self.

the crave he has for your is for some odd reason, unmet. you’re oblivious to his shy antics, the way his ears turn flat when you walk away or the way he holds onto the hem of your shirt just for a second longer.

notice him.

notice him.

notice him.

when you see the way he unconsciously covers his mouth whenever you meet eyes with him, or the how he’s constantly going to the infirmary, will you finally notice him?

there’s a trail of your favourite flowers.

ruggie bucchi keeps all the special things close to his heart. when you take his heart away, how else can he express his pathetic, unrequited love? by coughing up a disease ruggie would’ve called embarrassing and shameful if it weren’t for you.

azul

azul is sensitive. he notices things way too easily. the tiny, insignificant details of someone and how they react, he will notice. that is how azul finds out how a person truly feels about him.

even if azul and that other person were considered close friends, azul would still notice the tiny little details that make him unlikable to them even just a little. it’s been a habit for as long as he could remember.

everyone always had something they disliked about azul. it was fine with him, that was normal. everyone dislikes everyone about anything. it’s not like it deters long lasting relationships. azul shrugs it off, it doesn’t bother him. it’s comforting, even, knowing what people think about him.

so it was obvious to say it was near-horrid when no matter how much time azul spent time with you, he could not spot anything off about you, anything that said you didn’t like him.

as much as azul notices how people act around him, he also notices other people. he knows all their flaws, their good sides and their bad sides. even if he couldn’t read your thoughts about him at all, he still expected to see something out of the norm about you, a bad trait, something that made you human.

to him, you had none.

were you god? how come you were near-perfect in his eyes? during cold months, the tips of your nose and ears would flush pink like a cute plum while azul turned embarrassingly pink. he thought it was ugly and didn’t make him look good, but there nothing to prove that you thought the same. he couldn’t tell anything about you at all.

you were like a confusing puzzle piece to him. unsolvable, unreadable, flawless. perfect.

it took a while to adjust, but his unwavering respect for you turned into wavering thumps of his heart and dodging eyes. maybe you weren’t perfect after all, maybe azul just likes you.

the terrible urge to impress you grew stronger everyday. 

he wanted to look as perfect as you did to him.

how can he possibly ever look perfect,

when he is sick?

hovered over the toilet, azul clutched his chest as petals slid out of his mouth as if it were apart of him. well, it is apart of him, I guess. his love for you is one with him after all.

azul is sensitive, but he tries not to show it. not only is he good at catching the little things, he’s quick to anger or get hurt. the best he can do is hide them. so he hides the feeble emotion he calls love and comes back after winter break just as the same. he’s dutiful and runs his business like he normally would, and still hangs out with you time to time. he just feels more… empty? you’ll never know why he seems to be this way, no one really knows about the surgery.

jade

jade leech is often avoided by many people.

people find him creepy, odd, off-putting, unnerving… and more comments he hasn’t bothered to find out about.

those names don’t really bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. he loves watching people squirm in fear over something he says out of the blue. It’s exciting to watch a person try to decide if they should run away or not, unaware of jade’s capabilities.

he’s used to people avoiding him. for the sacrifice of entertainment, he isn’t all that popular. jade leech is used to it.

you were different, however.

your simply didn’t find him creepy. anything he said that was weird, you’d laugh it off and say something weird back too. jade’s height, creepy smile or the way he talks, it doesn’t seem to throw you off at all. you’d smile and wave at him when no one else dared to, you’d easily graze your skin against his and pay no mind, you’d approach him without second thoughts. It was like mutual trust, something jade has learned is difficult to find when you’re him.

so you meant everything. you were just as new and exciting, a pleasant surprise from the predicted fear everyone else has. you made him feel… seen for the first time in his life. 

soon, everything you did was like a horror movie (weird analogy, I know. but it’s jade leech we’re talking about!) the intensity of when the killer would approach, or when the character is alone and vulnerable, his heart pumps like wildfire as he watches expectantly to see what the new surprise would be. his favourite feeling was when the victim would die or escape, the tightening in his chest releasing as he excitedly watches what would happen next. that was you. you were his favourite feeling.

he loves the way your eyebrows moved in expression when you talked, he loved when you sneezed and looked around expecting a “bless you,” he loved the odd ways you attempted to hold your mug comfortably and most of all, he loved you. he love you very, very much.

jade leech is used to all kinds of things. he’s used to people avoiding him, he’s used to his brother’s tendencies to groan and complain at everything, he’s used to azul’s creepy capitalist tactics.

what he’s not used to, however, are the bubbly, excited emotions he feels when he gets to experiment with his beloved mushrooms, the way you took over his thoughts like the plague and most of all, he wasn’t used to the flowers spilling out of his mouth. 

this was odd, per say. jade knew of the hanahaki disease. he knew of all the downsides of it. but he never worried, because, how could he, jade fucking leech, ever love someone so pathetically?

he hoped that you’d love him back too. he oh-so deeply wished he was just as new and exciting to you as you were to him.

the blood meticulously dripped amongst his fingers, flower petals sticking to it alike. he laughed at himself. he’s always imagined that if he’d ever possibly get this disease, it’ll be flowers related to the water like lotuses or water lilies. he never thought he’d start coughing up such pathetic land-dweller flowers.

it was fine, though. jade would get used to it, eventually.

because after all, he’d rather die than stop loving you.

floyd

floyd is scary, he knows that. He’s quick to anger, moody, tall and intimidating. He’s doesn’t really care, though. He just does what he wants. He doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal.

he likes fun surprises, something new, exciting. he thinks you meet that of that.

you’re not as scared as others, you respond to his pranks and squeezes positively, you respect his mood swings and he even caught a few glimpses of you defending floyd. he thinks you’re so cute!

it’s not odd to talk about the leech twins without mentioning you. floyd follows you every and jade just goes wherever floyd goes. it’s like a little trio.

others when he gets upset, return his squeezes (hesitatingly…he hugs tight!) and find him rather silly than scary.

jade thinks you were almost made for floyd, considering how well you two get along. although jade has been with floyd the longest, he can only tolerate to a certain. for you, however, it seemed to go endless. you were so much more patient with floyd then with anyone else. although floyd made be subtle about it, he’s grateful.

floyd adored you. you were everything he loves, for he loves you.

loved you.

loved? (love)

floyd started to ignore you. you’d tilt your head in confusion— you were upset. why would your best friend suddenly act like you weren’t even there? he wouldn’t even get mad, he’d just turn the other way.

it was only so long ago when floyd was hunched over in his bed from a terrible stomach ache. jade was horribly surprised to see bloody petals staining floyd’s bedsheets.

floyd never bothered with these things. for the first time in a while, he read a book out of his own volition to figure out what it was, only to rip the pages apart when he read what hanahaki was.

childishly declaring that he loves you no more, floyd would stay away from you like the plague, whilst secretly filling his system with flowers that will kill him for ever loving someone so deeply.

floyd is gonna disappear from your life completely eventually. you’d wonder what caused your best friend to suddenly hate you, while his family mourns over the loss of a loved one, as floyd refused treatment, because he foolishly decided to love you one day. 

kalim

kalim grew up very sheltered in a loving family. The only concept of love he has is of his parents, who hold hands tightly and gush over the cutest things. they often warn him of the danger of love, and that he must be careful about the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

kalim, although clumsy and stupid, always kept that in the back of his mind.

you were like a breath of fresh morning air.  growing up knowing very little, you were the newest, most brightest experience there was. kalim was sure you were the one. he was completely sure, why else would his heart thump so fast?

he’d hug you and hold your hand, give you gifts you could never even imagine having and tell you how much he appreciates you.

kalim hasn’t gone around to mouthing the word “love” yet, but he knows that you know anyway.

so when he started coughing up petals, jamil was quick to inform the al-asim family. kalim was confused, he didn’t understand. this love wasn’t unrequited, there was no way!

it doesn’t matter, though. he’s gonna continue loving you, you and him are gonna be happy together someday, eventually. maybe not in this universe.

kalim woke up in a hospital bed, his heart heavy.

he loves you. but he forgot what that feels like. he loved you. somehow.

jamil

jamil is smart. he’s smart and knows his worth. this is why he hates being in second, he knows he deserves so much more.

why does he always to have do worse than kalim? why does he always have to be second place? jamil is smart enough to know his potential. he also knows how much he’s holding himself back for the sake of hierarchy. he hates it.

it’s not a surprise when jamil finds himself unconsciously doing slower than certain people to appear normal. his main purpose in life is to not stand out, hide in the shadows, survive. like predator hiding from prey because if found, it will be caught by the silly humans.

you’re completely different from him, though. you’re as normal as a person can be, yet you aim to reach for the stars and hold it close to your heart. jamil understands your desire to outshine people all to well. he’s been in that spot, is in that spot. he pities you.

so he sticks around. he’d casually follow you, hang out whenever he can, help you with assignments so you can be the best version of yourself. he’s voraciously living through you. if you achieve your goals, that’s enough for him. at least he was apart of something meaningful for once.

it catches him off guard, however, when you encourage him to reach for his goals as well. it’s like you’re holding his hand and pull him amongst the galaxies to gently place your hands onto the hot touch of a star.

he knows that’s near impossible to reach, from the moment he was born, his life was chosen for him. but he thinks he could reach the small goals.

jamil secretly pats himself on the back for grazing against your skin for a second longer than usual, treat you to a nice meal or help you ace a test. he hopes that at least one of the goals he could reach in this lifetime is to be with you.

jamil is smart enough to know that he’s not just sick. not when blood trails down his chin to his arms, as flowers spill from inside him.

he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could have something for himself for once. not hold himself back, grasp tightly to what he wants the most.

jamil is smart enough to know his own worth. he’s definitely not worth enough to you.

silver

silver likes the little things. he enjoys the way birds chirp in the early morning, or the way the dandelion petals flow against the wind as he watches you scrunch your nose and blow on it. and then both of you guys start sneezing. ah, summer pollen, a reminiscent part of nature.

he loves the way you hold your pencil, the way you like to tie your shoelaces, how you cut your sandwiches. these small, unnoticeable traits catch his eye quite often, and he’s developed a fondness for them.

he’s a man of little words. silver doesn’t talk much, so when he thinks of these things, he never says it out loud. maybe that’s why it took you so long to notice how he felt about you.

he was so calming, and so gentle, it tugged at your heart when he’d smile softly and tilt his head ever so slightly so the cute birds could carefully place a beautiful flower crown on his head. he’s so princely, you think. a perfect knight in shining armour, loved even by the nature.

often you’d tell him how lucky any girl would be to be loved by him. your comments made silver hopeful.

silver is a man of little words, he likes to spend his days watching rather than showing. when he does finally speak his true thoughts, he genuine, honest. his words roll off his tongue so easily and smoothly, perfect fit for such a princely man (as you call him)

so when silver does finally open his mouth to speak, talk, say of what he felt in that very moment, he throat closed up. maybe he was nervous, maybe he was lame, because to both of your guy’s horror, blood spilled.

he didn’t really know what was happening. only when he felt the urge to throw up in the infirmary did he realize what was going on.

he was familiar with hanahaki. his father always told him stories of how fae would love so strongly to humans who hated them, that those who were unlucky would be induced to vomiting flowers.

when silver thought he was fae, just like his sweet old father, silver swore to himself that he’ll never love a human. now that he knows that he is, in fact, human, silver starts to doubt himself. maybe is, in a way, a fae.

it’s alright, though. silver is man of few words. he likes to watch rather than show. he doesn’t mind what could happen to him, he won’t tell anyone. he’ll just watch you from afar, filling his heart with melancholy love until he reaches his end. which might be soon, for he loves you so strongly.

this is also from my old acc, this was a req but i rlly liked wriitng it yayy (I literally named this doc 'what the flip' and i opened it by an off chance, i totally forgot about it lol)

[gloomskulls]

YELP REVIEWS [tasm!peter parker x reader]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

warning(s): none

summary: a fan decided to make an unofficial yelp page for spider man as a joke. A lot of clients...or citizens had so much to say.

A/n: Just a random short fluff. I'll go back doing dark stories once I feel like it. I haven't really used Yelp, but my friend gave me this idea lol, so credit to Angelina lol. Don't steal this coz I'll shave your head.

Peter slumped on the couch scrolling through his phone. He frowned intensely and tapped a link you had just sent him, headlined as "Spider-Man Yelp Reviews"

You leaned against the door with a stifled grin. "Found it while looking at reviews for that new pizza place. Thought you'd get a kick out of the comments from your…clients."

Peter groaned. "Clients? I'm not running a business. What is this?"

Thumbing through the reviews, he cycled through disbelief, frustration then finally wounded pride.

2 stars

"He saved me from a mugger, but he sailed so quickly I didn't even manage to get the chance to say than you. Really rude."

3 stars

"I appreciate the help...however, he left me dangling from a lamppost for 20 minutes until the cops arrived. You could have just dropped me on the ground bro."

4 stars

"Brilliant rescue, but my phone screen got cracked when he yanked me into a speeding car. Thanks, I guess"

Peter threw his head back, exasperated. "Cracked phone screens? I'm sorry, Janet, would you prefer to have been hit by the car?"

"Peter, this is gold," you dropped beside him taking the phone to scroll further. "Ooh, look at this one!"

1 star

“I yelled for Spider-Man to come help me when my cat was stuck in a fire escape. He didn’t show. What’s the worth of a superhero when they won’t even help the little guy from time to time?”

"That wasn't even a crime," Peter exclaimed with hands thrown up. "What do people expect me to do run a cat rescue hotline?"

"I mean…isn't helping people your whole thing? Even the little guys? Or, in this case, little cats?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Oh, I'm loving it." You scrolled to another review.

3 stars

"Got my purse back after it was snatched, but when he handed it to me, he just said, 'Here ya go,' and left. No photo, no autograph. Kinda rude."

"Oh no, Peter, how dare you not stay for selfies mid-crime fighting?" You snickered.

Peter dragged a hand down his face. "Am I supposed to throw a meet and greet after every mugging? Should I bring merch? Web-slingers for kids? Spider-Man action figures?"

You wiggled your eyebrows. "Don't tempt me to start a side hustle."

He shook his head, scrolling further. His eyes widening in disbelief at the review.

1 star

"I yelled for Spider-Man to help me with my groceries. He didn't show up. Ended up dragging six bags up five flights of stairs by myself. What's even the point of having a superhero if he doesn't help the little people?"

Peter let out a strangled laugh. "Groceries? I have to save people from groceries now?"

"Be honest," you teased. "If you would have heard her, would you help?"

He hesitated. "…I mean, maybe. If I wasn't busy."

"Softie," you said, poking his cheek. "You're gonna carry someone's Costco haul one day; I just know it."

Peter groaned louder and clicked on another review, muttering, "It can't get worse. It can't possibly—"

0 stars

"Spider-Man swung by my building and broke my balcony railing. Now my landlord's charging me for repairs. Thanks, webhead."

"Oh," you managed a stifled laugh. "Isn't that the guy from your last patrol? You know, the one who yelled at you when you were chasing that car thief?"

Peter buried his face into his hands. "It's not my fault that balconies are so flimsy in the city. It's very hard to swing around without hitting something."

You patted his shoulder soothingly. "Don't worry, hero. I'm sure you'll get your Yelp rating up again. Maybe even start a loyalty program? Save five, get a free coffee?"

Peter shot you a look, betraying irritation and amusement. "You're impossible." You just grinned menacingly at his words.

"Hey, look at this one," you said, stealing the phone and scrolling to a five-star review, finally. "Finally, some love."

5 stars

“Spider-Man saved my dog from traffic. My girlfriend thinks he's cute. I do too, honestly. Would let him rescue me any day.”

He blinked. "What…what does that even mean?!"

"It means you’re the city’s hottest, most eligible bachelor,” you said, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Even dogs are falling for you. Can't blame them."

He rubbed his temples. “I think I need to retire. Or move to a quieter city. Do they need Spider-Man in, like, Ohio? Whadoyo think baby?”

You smiled and opened the Yelp app. “There, there, hero. I’ll fix your reputation." You assured him as you patted his back

Peter leaned over, squinting as you typed. “What are you— '5 stars. Spider-Man is amazing. Handsome. Athletic. Definitely has a great butt' Babe!" He read out everything you typed for him as you clicked the submit button

You winked. "Just telling the truth. Besides, if you're going to be stuck here, you might as well be a five-star hero."

"Unbelievable," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

[elixirfromthestars]

A Snow Day With You

Pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader (college au)

Summary: The end of the semester has you stressing beyond belief, so Bucky decides to cheer you up by spending a snowy afternoon sledding.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warning(s): none. pure fluff.

Prompt/Event: @the-slumberparty december daze -> sledding isn't as fun as when we were kids

a/n: This fluffy drabble is my holiday gift to you my dear Ray @whatever-lmaoo ♡♡ Your comments on my first fic of these two have forever carved a home in my heart, so this one is for you ♡ I hope this fluffy piece can bring you a bit of happiness whenever college gets stressful ♡ This is a standalone fic, but everyone is welcome to read more of their story!₊˚⊹☆ Thank you everyone for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ♡♡♡

where their love story began ♡ || fluffy winter fics masterlist ❆

“Babe, we're going to get hypothermia,” you grumble out, hugging your coat closer to your body. The frosty wind shoving past your face, chilling you to the bone. Bucky plops the wooden toboggan onto the snow, laughing in disbelief at your assertion, “Sweetheart, we’re not getting hypothermia.” He’s not wrong as he says this, since apart from the wind, the weather was tolerable. Last night’s snowstorm ended this morning, leaving behind ten inches of snow. Enough for a multitude of winter activities—like sledding—to be possible. 

“Maybe not, but one of us will break a bone,” you retort, watching in growing concern as other people slide down the snowy hill and end up tumbling out of their sleds when they reach the bottom. Bucky follows your line of sight and playfully rolls his eyes, “No one is going to break a bone, Y/n.” He goes to adjust your scarf, the indigo fabric a little too loose for his liking. Up close he can see the look in your eye, the one that tells him you’re not done trying to back out of this just yet. 

“Maybe you won’t, but I might. I’m not athletic enough to go sledding.”

“Baby, you don’t have to be athletic to go sledding.”

The more you speak the more Bucky’s amusement grows, but he tries not to show it too much as he sees the underlying nervousness dancing in your eyes. He finishes fixing your scarf and you plant a soft kiss on his cheek as a thank you. He smiles at you fondly, noticing your grumpy mood subside slightly. He doesn’t take your mood to heart, knowing the real reason you haven’t been feeling the best lately is because of one thing and one thing only. 

Finals.

More specifically, final grades—or the lack thereof. Most of your professors haven’t submitted them yet, leaving you in a state of limbo unsure of whether you managed to save the semester or not. 

Bucky has been your rock throughout finals season. Supporting you with extra study sessions, holding you close to soothe your frustration when it got the better of you, kissing all your tears away, and on those days you needed a break, he would put on your favorite comfort show and order takeout from your favorite restaurant. He did anything and everything he could to make you feel better. 

These last few days, however, all of that wasn’t enough to shake away the dread that insisted on making a home in your heart. Bucky knew he needed to do something different to cheer you up and get your mind off of things. After seeing how the snow had piled up overnight, he was either going to ask you to build a snowman or go sledding.

Your boyfriend—captain of your university’s baseball team—naturally chose sledding. 

“Just trust me, okay? I’ll hold you tight and make sure nothing happens to you,” Bucky promises as he makes his way over to the sled. He sits down on the end of it, his left hand gently outstretching to grab onto yours. Your gaze locks with his, your trepidation melting away the more you look into his eyes. There’s something about the snow all around him that makes his eyes a little more blue and it pulls you in with the assurance of safety. You nod, taking hold of his hand and letting him guide you to the front of the sled—slowly pulling you down to sit in front of him. 

He instructs you on everything you need to know to keep yourself stable and inside at all times. You’re not entirely paying attention as you focus more on the way he scoots forward and presses your back against his chest. His arms are on either side of you, encasing you in a protective embrace. You lean into it, letting the steadiness of his presence soothe the remaining unease in your body. 

“I’ll countdown from five and then I’ll push off, okay?” he mentions kindly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he awaits your response. You watch as others go down the snowy hill without a care in the world. Children and adults alike coasting down on sleds and pool floats, merriment written on their faces and echoing in their laughs. It helps subdue the butterflies in your stomach somewhat. 

At your silence, Bucky presses a comforting kiss to your cheek, the coldness of his lips bringing you back to him. You look over your shoulder to give him a reassuring smile, “Okay, but don’t you dare let me go, Bucky Barnes.” You warn playfully, feeling the way his chest rumbles with a laugh before he replies, “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” 

He pulls you tighter against his chest as your hands grasp onto the steering rope. He starts the countdown from five gradually inching the sled to the edge of the peak. When the countdown ends, you feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter intensely as the descent begins. Your breath gets caught in your throat and your eyes close tightly the entire way down. While a shriek of adrenaline escapes you, Bucky chortles the entire time as he’s having the time of his life. 

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Bucky poses the question when you reach the bottom, a boyish grin on his face. Your eyes open when you look behind you, noticing the way the apples of his cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold, his hair blown across his forehead, and yet the sparkle in his pretty blues unaffected by the chill. You’re reminded then and there that you’d do anything for him. Even sliding down the hill a million times if it meant keeping that joy on his face. 

“I think I left my stomach at the top of the hill, but apart from that—it wasn’t so bad,” you concede, your smile matching his. He hums in amusement, “We should probably go get it then. Shouldn’t we?” You know he’s really asking you if you two could go down the hill again, and there’s no way you would ever be able to say no, so you nod—knowing you would follow him anywhere. 

The second time you go down the hill you keep your eyes open. Marveling at the sight of the snowy trees blurring into one. By the third time, you're laughing along with Bucky and by the fourth you have the same sparkle in your eyes—enjoying the rush of the fall. And by the fifth, the stress of finals is long forgotten and Bucky feels an overwhelming sense of pride knowing he was able to lift that weight off your shoulders. 

On your last descent, things don’t go as smoothly as the other times. Halfway down the hill, the sled bumps into a large rock hidden beneath the layers of snow. You barely have time to register when Bucky yells your name, as the sled derails from its path—your stomach flipping along with the sled. 

You end up tumbling a few feet down the hill. Bucky holds you like a lifeline to his body as you land in the blanket of snow. You’re disoriented for a moment, but Bucky lifts himself to his knees in an instant, hovering above you to scan you from head to toe for any injuries. The worry etched into his features tugging at your heartstrings. 

“Y/n, are you okay? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re not hurt. Do I need to—” The fit of giggles that erupt from you cuts off his distressed rambling, a bewildered expression replacing his concern. Instead of telling him you’re alright, you decide to show him. Your hands reach out to grasp the edges of his coat and pull him down for a kiss. He melts into it faster than ice does, a cheesy smile replacing his frown. 

“I think that’s enough sledding for today,” you mumble into the kiss. He nods, agreeing wholeheartedly as he deepens it, “Mm, I second that. I can think of other ways we can spend the rest of the day,” his tone drips with suggestion, his eyes glimmering with playful mischief. You slap at his chest lightheartedly, which only elicits a deep chuckle from him before he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

No matter what comes next, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be on a snowy day than with him.

[inside-lees-mind]

Hii. Any Dr. Stone requests still hanging?

What about a ranking of how easy it is to make them laugh? (I know it's pure innocent fluff, but why the heck not)

Or, for any spicy folks: how easy it is to turn them on?

Dr. Stone Most to Least Rankings

Dr. Stone is coming back: I must come back.

I’m bored so I’m doing the spicy one. With that comes:

WARNINGS: NSFW, Hyoga being a sadist (canon)

And character list so I know who to bring up while I write this (not in order): Senku, Ryusui, Ukyo, Gen, Kinro, Ginro, Hyoga, Tsukasa

Most Easy to Turn On

Ginro: well this goes without saying. Ginro thinks with his dick. He’s always drooling over girls, abandoning all common sense to impress them, etc. Hell, you’re probably not the only one he gets turned on by… sorry.

Kinro: he tried so hard to act better than that, to be better. And he’s no pervert or anything… but it’s you! Unlike his brother, this is just because he’s so enamored with you. He is not looking at anybody else.

Gen: Most likely to turn you on. Gen is a bit of a pervert… if we’re being real. Amazing self control, but he’s been secretly thinking about getting you alone since this morning, but Senku found him first and so… it was hard labor instead! Much to his dismay. He’s not struggling to contain himself or anything though. Just frustrated…

Ukyo: He’s not perverted nor does he really think about you sexually a shit ton. He doesn’t have a high sex drive, but if you’re in the mood and go tease him… he really wishes you wouldn’t. Now the two of you have to sneak off because he’s either red in the face or teasing you right back and you’re dragging him into the woods for it.

Tsukasa: We have a bit of a jump, and this is where ranking them gets difficult for me. Tsukasa has great self control and is not likely to have trouble in public. If you try to tease him, he’ll just sternly shut you down. Maybe a little flustered, but he’s fine. In private? …you’re gonna get it.

Senku: likes to think he’s above it all things like this. He’s too focused on science and rebuilding the world… right??? He can ignore you for a while, but… rub up on him once and you’ll end up being told to ride him since you need it so bad… he needs it

Ryusui: you might be shocked he’s low… but let me explain! Ryusui loves everybody, has been surrounding himself with hot women since he was a kid (as odd as that sounds having to say it, but it’s true), and so he’s just not all that affected by anybody PHYSICALLY. I think he’d happily oblige if you wanted to get physical, but he’s not staring at your body with a hard on when you walk by or even are nude…

Hyoga: okay an odd choice for the bottom, but also a good choice. I’ll explain. He’s got excellent self control and torture skills. He’s likely to control himself well and he’s not all that affected by your attempts to get his attention. The most likely to make you wait and ALSO not let you help yourself at all. He can wait this out (while purposely riling you up) until you’re crying if need be. He’s lowkey-highkey evil bro.

[theartofwoompwoomp]

HELLO!!! This is my first ask here but i just wanted to throw the idea of https://www.tumblr.com/theartofwoompwoomp/770097458415058944/oh-scrap-soundwave-x-human-reader-summary-the having the alternative ending of reader saying that knockout is the hottest? I was thinking maybe instead of soundwave, it would b KO

yk because knockout just IS the hottest i mean LOOK at him!!!

have a good day/night!!

Hello !!! i’m glad you reached out ! I love the idea of making an Alternative version on this. Thanks for the request luv <3

Oh scrap

(Knouckout x human!reader)

summary:the decepticons start talking about who’s the hottest one. alternative to oh scrap. 

————————————————————————

Oh he couldn’t believe it. 

They were seriously going to argue about this ?!

He could care less about others, especially small insignificant human, opinions.

Since the beginning of the conversation it had been nonsense. But the fact they weren’t even considering him in this particular topic irked him.

Everyone knows he’s the best looking bot. Especially out of the decepticons.

Going over, making his presence known as he stands right between the whole thing. “Oh please,” standing tall making everyone look, “everyone knows I’m the best looking Decepticon around.” Smirking at the fact that his poses were proving his point.

“Besides, out of everyone, the humans have chosen to ogle my aft mode the most.” 

His tone proud. Seeing the looks on the others faces only fueling his ego more. Especially Starscreams. 

The con’s wings kept twitching. Seething in fury at his declaration. Only so much was said before the seeker had enough.

Resorting to violence, the both of them were willing to fight both verbally and physically to prove their point.

“Fool !” Launching a fist towards the doctor. “You don’t know what you’re talking about !” His voice screeching as knockout dodged and slightly missed as he tried hitting him with his saw.

The other Cons had to break them apart before one of them pulled out their bigger weapons.

Breakdown holding back Knockout, as Starscream was being held back by various Cons. Only calming down when threatened of them bringing Megatron if they didn’t calm down. 

But such threat may have stopped the seeker from continuing the physical part of the fight but not the verbal part. 

“Hah ! You really think humans would ever think you’re the hottest ?!” Grabbing his attention once more, “We have a human on the ship.” Optics widening a bit, allowing the seeker to continue.

“In fact, they’ve been here the whole time. Yet, not once did they raise their voice to defend you. So how can you be sure the humans truly find you the hottest, not your aft mode.”

He had a point. 

Out of the two of them, only starscream had gotten a compliment about their true form. But what about him? 

Grinding his denta in frustration, feeling his own energon boil. About to defend himself when someone beat him to it.

“HEY! That’s uncalled for ! The only reason I didn’t say anything was because I too busy admiring Knock out in the first place !!!”

Small and fully ready to defend your crush you spoke louder, making sure everyone heard. 

“Knockout.is.the.Hottest. End of story.”

hwat? All eyes on you, heck in normal circumstances you’d stop there, but adrenaline kicking in and annoyance from the second in command’s voice you continued. 

“So don’t you dare continue talking down on my boy, or accusing me of stupidity cause you got another thing coming.” 

Your words shutting up the seeker. No one necessarily expecting that reaction from you. 

You simply left the room, not lowering your head or displaying any doubt in your words. Actually you seemed more annoyed than anything.

But in reality, you didn’t see the look knockout had. Smirking at his victory, he pushed by starscream making sure he stumbled, he strutted off after you. 

Embarrassment only setting in when you reached your room. How could you say that in front of him ?!?? Covering your face, you cringe from your actions.

“So, I’m your boy now~ hmm?”

Crap.

You left the door open. Stupid bot. Stupid talk. Stupid EVERY THING !!! You turn to him, seeing his stupid face and his stupid smirk. 

His optics looking over your every move. Amused at the way you seemed annoyed at him too. But in all honesty all your actions made his spark warm. Knowing where their all stemming from. 

Not letting you walk off, he picked you up and gave you a small peck on the head.

“Well if it makes you feel better, you’re also the most attractive human I know.” 

———————————————————————

masterlist

[randomfoggytiger]

The Field Where I Died: The Tragic Flaws of Glen Morgan and James Wong

My thoughts on The Field Where I Died are divided into neat little categories for this episode: frustration for what we were given, acceptance of its existence, anger at Glen Morgan and James Wong's behind-the-scenes revelations, acknowledgment of their feelings, determination that the end product's truth was different than what was originally conceptualized, and genuine understanding of others' love for its creativity and vision.

But those thoughts are inseparable from a broader perspective of Morgan and Wong's work on Season 4.

I'm going to be pulling a lot of information from an interview here; but to save time (and sanity), I'll emphasize the quotes in italics instead of continually citing my source.

"I CAN DO BETTER" VISIONARIES

(Credit to: @sleepyscully.)

It's no secret that Morgan and Wong always wrote-- shall we say-- angsty episodes that drove a wedge in Mulder and Scully's relationship. Sometimes that was executed brilliantly-- Squeeze, Beyond the Sea, Home, Never Again-- and sometimes that was executed... badly. Their bent is the nature of conflict, and its potential resolution; or ideals and tarnished realities; or things we thought we knew and understood but never really did. And those are powerful tools... if, like all tools, they're wielded effectively.

They're the difference between the ridiculous conceit of Musings of a CSM-- an episode that set everyone against each other (we'll get to that)-- and Beyond the Sea-- and episode that wowed Carter (convincing him to keep Gillian on the show), fans, and critics alike.

I've already tackled how The Field Where I Died could work here (how Scully broke the cycle) and here (Scully, snakes, and reincarnation.) I have no qualms with the idea that Mulder and Scully themselves aren't romantic soulmates in every lifetime: that was never the magic of their relationship, to me. And I do love the concept that Melissa serves as a contrast for Mulder: as Morgan says,

 One reason why I wrote Melissa that way was my notion that if you’re Mulder and you found your soulmate, the love of all your loves, within the body of this unappealing person, what would you do? I don’t know if we totally explored that. I don’t know if Duchovny would agree with me – he knows more about Mulder – but I think Melissa is the type of women that Mulder would be attracted to. Someone like Bambi in ‘The War of the Coprophages’ is good for a joke, but I don’t really see Mulder going after her. There’s something sad about Melissa. There was a secret within her that was important for him to get at. That mirrors his life, and his own search for his sister. He is a character whose whole drive is to help everybody, but he’s so unsuccessful at that, and with helping himself. All he wants is to find one person that he can rescue – but he’s not too good at it.

No matter how despairing Mulder is, Morgan said, he would not be tempted, like Melissa, to end his life. “I looked at Melissa as if she decided reincarnation might be true, and that if she had chosen this life, at that point she realized, ‘This is a bad idea. This is a miserable life and I’m not getting much out of it. I’m just going back to heaven and I’ll wait for you.’ She wanted out. But Mulder, as much as he’d love to go to the other side to see what’s there, is a life-affirming character. He’s going to keep on looking. He’s not going to quit. Mulder has questions for this life.”

That rings true to me.

What I do have qualms with is that Mulder and Scully's incredible, undeniable, written-into-canon-at-this-point connection (that was established in the Pilot, purposefully, by Chris Carter himself, post here) is boiled down to a destined, warped tri-connection that is part of and secondary to his (chemistry-less) connection with a woman that doomed him in every lifetime. A woman who is an unreliable narrator, and who could easily be swaying Mulder into believing her story because of her own form of mental instability and fragility. It could be a beautiful love story, and it's undeniably beautifully shot (and mostly beautifully written), but it's not Mulder's-- it's Morgan's:

For Morgan, an episode about reincarnation and eternal soulmates was not just a good story for Mulder, but a personal expression of the thoughts and emotions he had experienced during the past year, when his relationship with Cloke grew from friendship into romance (they are now engaged), “I had gone through a failed marriage in which I had really believed,” Morgan revealed. “I had always wanted to believe there is somebody out there for you, and I had been in a situation where that didn’t come true. And I thought, ‘It’s a lie. That person you think is out there for you is a lie.’ But then I met Kristen and I was rejuvenated by that. I really thought. that you can be reborn in this life, not just life after death. I regained faith that there is one person for you, one person who, by being in your life, can motivate you to change the crappy things you were doing before. In this case, it was Kristen. I knew she did a lot of characters and voices, so I wanted to incorporate that.. I wanted to write something for her that challenged her. Also, I wanted to write something for David Duchovny that challenged him.”

("Challenged", indeed.)

And that... that rubs me the wrong way.

NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT YOU

I'm not here for Glen's romance, I'm sorry. I'm here to be persuaded that Mulder might have a soulmate, that Scully might be a soulmate, that all three could be bound in this doomed pattern for lifetimes; and if that cycle was broken with Melissa Ephesian's death. (More importantly: does Mulder and/or Scully believe it's broken?) What we were given instead was a memoir to love in general that shoehorned itself into the show without regard for canon.

I'm not angry with TFWID as much as I am other episodes (most of Existence and canon onward, for example) because Mulder and Scully's characterization never strays-- Field may have been carelessly wedged in, but it was skillful with its emotional exploration. Further, the events and facts presented so summarily contradict each other that there's no real "threat" propped up by its existence. And, while I can't excuse the cringe-inducing acting from Morgan's wife, I can explain why DD's turned out so "badly" (read: jarringly):

Bowman’s director’s cut ran so long that Morgan and Wong were forced to trim twenty minutes out of the episode.... Morgan felt that the emotional impact of Mulder’s hypnosis session might have been marred by the cutting, since it interfered with the flow of Duchovny’s acting throughout the entire scene. “I called David and I said, ‘I’m cutting it this way.’ I could hear that he was upset. I know what actors go through to prepare, and then to have to sit in a chair for a couple of hours in front of a bunch of grips and gaffers and people that they hang out with everyday, and cry – it’s just like taking off your clothes. And then to find it’s been cut out. I had to come home and tell Kristen, ‘Look, this part is coming out.’ She was upset and David was upset. Jim was off prepping ‘Musings of Cigarette Smoking Man’ or doing something and I was just very alone.’

(For context, the hypnosis scene was originally twelve minutes long.)

While I might be tempted to sympathize with Morgan, he didn't extend that sympathy equally to his wife or Duchovny, instead turning this combined loss into a one-sided self-pity party.

MULDER THE SACRIFICE, SCULLY THE SAVIOR

I also have a theory that Carter was writing Scully as a savior and Mulder as a sacrificial lamb for the mainline series (until he made William a magic baby and ruined eight years of build-up), post here.

There's a reason that The X-Files is told through Scully's perspective; and that Mulder is often compared to Ahab chasing the White Whale, to a man on a fated quest, to a boy who lost his sister and can't live freely until he has that closure. There's a reason that Scully is Mulder's "one-in-five billion", his salvation ("But you saved me!"), his constant, his touchstone-- and his "human credential", as David Duchovny put it. There's a reason that Carter banked an entire series off of a chemistry and bond he wrote into the graveyard scene, and maintains that that is when Mulder and Scully fell in love (though to what degree is up for fanon interpretation.) There's a reason that the CSM was wrong to picture Mulder as a Christ-like figure, and Scully was right to walk into Mulder's subconscious and rescue him with the truth ("Get up and fight.") There's a reason that Mulder's rescue in Deep Throat underscores his and Scully's partnership from then on out: he in danger-- be it from Jersey Devils, moth men, fated love triangles, Houston bombs, brain surgery, alien abduction-- and she his rescuer (discussed a little here.)

Why is this important? Because The Field Where I Died's concept is not without canonical merit: Mulder running headlong into danger, Scully holding him back long enough to prevent the cycle from repeating. And it ties into the mytharc's ad nauseam question of Fate v. Freewill (posts here and here.) TFWID could even work if you factor in the theory of Scully's immortality (post here.)

But the reality is, Morgan and Wong were not going for canonical adherence.

THE WONDER OF THE SUPERNATURAL, THE FAILURE OF THE HUMAN CONNECTION

Episodic timeline goofs and gaffes aside, the problems in The Field Where I Died lie deeper than which woman Mulder loves and which one he perpetually makes friendship bracelets with. The greatest problem arrives, settles, and stains with the introduction of soulmates: the recontextualization of the infamous MSR dynamic.

Morgan was focusing again on Mulder and Scully as humans; but he fumbled, amplifying then explaining away their "unspoken" as a supernatural connection rather than the meeting of uncannily similar minds:

Apart from personal considerations, Morgan and Wong wanted to reorient the show’s attitude towards the paranormal, which they felt in the third session had been expressed far too often as something evil or wrong. “The paranormal isn’t about death or evil,” Morgan said. “It’s about wonder.” In line with this approach, he and Wong wanted to avoid writing a conventional villain; instead, the principal conflicts take place between Mulder and Scully or are internal, with both Mulder and Melissa haunted by their pasts, in this life, and perhaps previous lives. 

Morgan and Wong wanted to zero in on two humans, and all their complications as such, brushing up against the unfathomable, neutral force beyond their comprehension... but then ruined that message, that build-up, by justifying the personal, human aspect-- their connection-- by making it inhuman, unnatural, and supernatural, too. All the while, of course, telling us (and believing themselves) that fans were upset because they introduced another romance for Mulder.

(As a side note: why do I excuse-- for lack of a better word-- David Duchovny's similar sentiments towards TFWID and its reception? Firstly, he, and others, genuinely loves it; and I'm happy for him. To David, it seems, love is more powerful when it is guaranteed for a lifetime and beyond-- the insecurity of someone falling out of love, platonically or romantically, is more powerful than a finite and fickle love that can be lost or tarnished. That being his interpretation-- and Morgan's intention-- I can see why he'd love TFWID. It's a powerful sentiment. More importantly, the man doesn't hold it against fans-- he thinks they misinterpreted its intent-- like Morgan thought they did-- understands why it would disgruntle, but maintains that he loves it, regardless. I can respect that position, even if we disagree; because the heart likes what it likes. I, for one, have my own likes that others might hate.)

LAZILY WRITTEN

The greatest mistake of all-- one Morgan humbly recognizes-- is the faults in the writing. Well... more accurately, that he and Wong failed to keep a complete vision that would (most definitely, guys) translate better to audiences. His ideas, I concede, were intriguing; but like all mediums, the final product is what audiences are left to judge and believe in. For TFWID, it was mixed up before the scenes were filmed, and hacked apart after the footage was wrapped-- so much so, that Morgan kept realizing the magnitude of his mistakes after the fact:

Under hypnosis, Mulder describes a scene of death and destruction from the Warsaw ghetto; in this past life, he is a Jewish woman, Scully is his father, Samantha is his son, and the Cigarette Smoking Man is a Gestapo officer. 

Next he [Mulder] becomes Sullivan Biddle, already dead in battle, Scully is his sergeant, and Melissa is there, as Sarah. He has no information on the bunkers, all he sees is death. Morgan wrote these scenes to express the overwhelming sense of loss that Mulder has felt his entire life. The scene was shot in extreme close-up, inspired, Morgan said, by his love of Ingmar Bergman’s films. “To spend three quarters of an act, six or seven minutes, in close-up, on television, is wonderful,” he said. “On TV, we’re always cutting back and forth. We’re always blowing stuff up. Jim and I participate in that. Act Four of ‘Home’ couldn’t be more different than act three of ‘The Field Where I Died.’ I’m proud of that. ”

(And you might have blown it, Glen.)

Morgan’s enthusiasm for the scene was not matched by a good number of the show’s fans, who felt the scene was overwrought, both in the writing, and in Duchovny’s performance. “I think both Kristen and David did a great job,” Morgan said. “David just can’t win. If he walks around going, ‘Scully, I’m going here. Oh. Extreme possibilities,’ everyone says, ‘...that guy just mumbles his way through.’ If he emotes, people don’t want to see that. People can say his acting was bad. I don’t think that it was, but some felt it was obviously ‘acting.’ It’s in a close-up, it’s a long monologue, so it points to acting. 

(An unnecessarily long scene that, unfortunately, had to be chopped; and was chopped so badly that, consequently, it lost its nuance and made Duchovny look like a fool by proxy.)

Bowman’s director’s cut ran so long that Morgan and Wong were forced to trim twenty minutes out of the episode, including eliminating one of Melissa’s personalities, a crude loudmouth named Jobee, as well information that supported Scully’s viewpoint, and large sections from Melissa’s and Mulder’s hypnosis sessions

 “If we’d focused on Scully’s viewpoint more, we could have thrown up the idea that maybe Mulder’s wrong, maybe this is just wishful thinking,” Morgan added. “I know this sounds really bad, but to me the hypnosis scene is more important than a teaser. I was desperate to cut out time, and in favoring emotional content over plot content, I might have blown it.”

[Morgan]: "... I read a post online asking why Scully was always a man in the past, and I hadn’t thought about that. I wish I had altered that; it was a mistake.”

And it wasn't just TFWID that was littered with inconsistencies in service to Morgan and Wong's vision.

TFWID, "MUSINGS", AND THE BLAME GAME

When Morgan and Wong returned from their other writing projects, they had to decide whether to leave the studio-- angry at its interference-- or take a deal and partly work for The X-Files and Millennium. Obviously they chose the latter, and rejoined after a hiatus of one or two years. In that time, the X-Files had become a hit. But M and W had changes, and plans to execute those changes, in mind: they both thought that the show had strayed from its original vision-- again, the "wonder" of the paranormal and supernatural-- and would be set to (better) rights with their input and direction.

Not all of their work was flawed-- Home and Never Again were tightly written-- and not all of their ideas were self-involved. For example: when joining the show, they and the other writers were told this season's purpose was to drive a wedge between Mulder and Scully, and framed Never Again around that idea:

“My understanding at the beginning of the year was that we were going to drive to a point where Mulder and Scully didn’t trust each other,” Morgan said. His own scenario for plotting out the season was somewhat different from what Carter and the other writers came up with this year, but the fundamental issue was the same: trust. “I would have slowly split Mulder and Scully up over the course of the season, then in the last episode have Scully put Mulder away for his own good, which he would perceive as the ultimate betrayal,” Morgan said. “And then the next season, they would have had an entire year’s healing to go through.”

That's not an entirely unreasonable direction to take, either.

The other writers had other plans. For good or ill, it was Chris's show; and Chris wanted to steer it in a certain direction. Those who joined and added their thoughts cohesively helped construct the mainline arcs that bloomed into Season 4's cancer revelation and Season 5's lack of faith, as well as building up Fight the Future concurrently. M and W, however, felt bruised when their visions were either tweaked or countermanded; and left the experience disgruntled. For good or ill, Chris Carter, Glen Morgan, and James Wong all had good and bad ideas; but only one of them had created the show-- something which the latter two couldn't, at times, accept.

Case and point: I detour to Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man because that episode-- from its conception to its creation to its execution-- explains clearly what led Morgan and Wong astray.

Home was successful, The Field Where I Died much less so. For both episodes, Chris Carter seemed content to let Morgan and Wong do whatever they wanted. However, a shift occurred when fans fell out of sync with M and W's vision (TFWID); and that shift manifested when Glen and James immediately wanted to jump into a CSM backstory, the mytharc domain of CC. Both writers felt the big bad of The X-Files had become gutless; and they wanted to inject some terror into him by killing off Frohike in the end. Per their original vision, the narrative element was excluded and CSM would reclaim his villainy via a Forrest Gump monologue then follow through by gunning down an innocent man. Chris Carter, meanwhile, did not want Frohike killed and did not think that CSM would care to waste time murdering a relative nobody to his life and work. William B. Davis, CSM's actor, was also insistent this version of CSM was not his character; and was so dissatisfied with it that he called up CC himself. Carter tried to appease all sides with a compromise: letting M and W write what they wanted (within limits) and reassuring himself and WBD that this episode wasn't canon:

Davis promptly called Carter to ask if this was the real history of the Cigarette Smoking Man (Carter told him no).

...“The Cigarette Smoking Man’s flashbacks were my idea, because I indeed wanted the episode to be a memoir,” Morgan said. But the idea that Frohike could be the real narrator was a Carter-imposed addition to the script, to make it seem as if the events of the episode were not real. Carter even changed the name of the script, from “Memoirs of a Cigarette Smoking Man” to “Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man.”

[Wong]: ...“The line where Deep Throat says, ‘Maybe I’m not the liar’ was another change imposed on the script so you could make the leap that perhaps this is all. a dream, or the ramblings of Frohike.”

If that weren't potentially explosive enough, Morgan and Wong went behind Chris's back, consulting others on set to create their vision, anyway. When CC turned down Glen's dogged request, twice, to film an alternate ending, Wong took matters into his own, unauthorized hands:

Morgan and Wong felt so strongly about this issue, that they decided to try an end run around Ten Thirteen. They figured that if they filmed the scene their way, and cut it into the episode, it would be so powerful that Carter would have to agree with them. Morgan called Wong up in Vancouver and told him to take a few crew members while everyone else was at lunch, and get some shots of blood spattering on the sign to the Lone Gunman offices. Wong decided against the stealth approach; instead, he filmed William B. Davis pulling back on the trigger, and Tom Braidwood, as Frohike, getting a bullet in the head. Morgan nearly panicked when he heard what his partner had done; he was certain word of it would reach Ten Thirteen down in Los Angeles. His fears were justified.

Carter, meanwhile, allegedly proved how cleverly his fingers always remained on the pulse of the show:

Wong recalled: “I was in the editing room, and I said to the editor, why don’t we print up the B negative? We’ll cut it in and show Chris. [The “B” negative was the negative with the footage of the Cigarette Smoking Man pulling the trigger and Frohike getting shot.] And the editor told me, ‘You can’t do that.’ I said, ‘What do you mean, we can’t do that? Just print the B negative.’ He said, ‘Well, it’s been taken out of the lab. It can’t be found.” In a move worthy of a scene from an X-Files episode, someone had deliberately removed the negative without telling Morgan and Wong, and they had no idea where it was. 

(And how do we know this was CC's doing? Because every single actor, writer, and director interviewed always marveled at his inhuman ability to be aware of every single, teeny tiny detail on set.)

Apparently, the incident blew over wordlessly, so much so that Chris asked Glen and James to help flesh out Millennium and called them up, years later, to craft the Revival with him (and sat nearby while Morgan teasingly alluded to the above incident, just a few years ago.)

To tie it all back to The Field Where I Died: the work they created-- while beautifully written-- was sloppily fitted into the show they were hired to write for:

And then there were the timeline inconsistencies, which Morgan and Wong didn’t even know about until the episode aired and Morgan logged on and was bombarded with dozens of internet posts complaining that the events of “Musings” couldn’t be for real, because they contradicted the teaser to “Apocrypha.” In the “Apocrypha” teaser, which is set in 1953, a young Cigarette Smoking Man (already smoking), a young Bill Mulder, and a third man, all in civilian dress, question a horribly burned submarine crewman who had encountered an alien in a flashback shown in the previous episode, “Piper Maru.” Morgan’s version proposed an entirely different history, with the young Cigarette Smoking Man and Bill Mulder, both Army officers, first meeting in 1961 at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The Cigarette Smoking Man doesn’t even smoke, until he takes his first nervous puff late in the first act. Although Morgan and Wong had seen “Apocrypha,” they didn’t remember the events of the teaser. “Okay, we’re sloppy,” Morgan admitted.

To top off the battle of egos, Glen and James laid a portion of the blame at the nameless feet of some faceless "other" rather than taking it upon themselves... or having the guts to point the finger at one person in particular:

“But somebody should have told us. They all read the script. It was the same thing that happened to us on ‘Little Green Men when we showed Samantha’s abduction.'” Added Wong: “If somebody had said, ‘Hey, you know, in the third season, this was said and this doesn’t make sense anymore.’ And we would have changed it. But nobody told us that And the internet people go, ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ and now we look like idiots. We have part of the blame obviously; we didn’t know. We didn’t catch it.”

(It's easy to feel for them and their position... until you realize that there is no evidence-- that I have found-- of them asking if there was a show bible or other resource to consult. Meaning, again, that M and W have to take some blame for this grievance, as well.)

And last but not least, they-- particularly Glen Morgan-- martyred their pain instead of fully accepting and owning their own part in this ever-evolving disaster:

But their disappointment over the changes they were forced to make “Musings of Cigarette Smoking Man” caused them to withhold the ghost story and look for something else. “I had done a lot of research and I had always wanted to write a feature about Lincoln’s ghost,” Morgan said, “But I felt they didn’t want my heart and soul anymore, so I wouldn’t give this one to them."

CONCESSIONS

While these two scalawags contributed their fair share to frustrating and complicated behind-the-scenes shenanigans, their instincts weren't completely wrong, nor all their conduct unrighteous.

They were right on the money with Home--

“Thematically, Sheriff Taylor was doing the same thing that the brothers were doing. They didn’t want things to change,” Morgan said. Scully conducts an examination on the baby, and when the DNA tests come back, she is shocked to find results impossible to believe; they indicate the child had three fathers.

“It was much more controversial than we thought it would be,” Wong said. “Some fans were repulsed beyond analyzing the show; they were just kind of sickened by it. They were pretty turned off. Some people loved it. There was a lot of really, really negative reaction.”

“I have really been stung by that whole reaction,” Morgan admitted. “To me, the show must have become so big while we were away. I think a lot of people hadn’t been exposed to what we did when we were first on the show. They were going, '...what are they doing?’ and we go, ‘But, this is what we always did!’ We had “Squeeze,” or episodes like Chris’ ‘Irresistible,’ these shocking, horrible shows. Act four of ‘Tooms’ I think is on a level with ‘Home,’ so we were going, ‘What is all the ruckus about?’ We figured a lot of people don’t know that earlier stuff, or certain tones that we were going after then.”

-- and Never Again--

“He’s been caught off guard by not knowing something about her,” Morgan said. “A date with someone in Philadelphia, someone he’s never heard of, someone she’s never told him about. He’s unnerved by his lack of certainty about her, with her being wrong about Ed.” The episode ends with Scully telling Mulder firmly, “It’s my life,” and Mulder saying, “But it’s…” and suddenly stopping. Why didn’t he finish his sentence? “It was our way of saying to the other writers, ‘Here’s where Mulder and Scully are, and now the ball is in your court,'” explained Morgan. “That’s what I always felt was our role. In the first couple of years when we were on the show, we might hand it off and then have to pick up the ball ourselves a couple of episodes later, but knowing we were about to leave and would have no input whatsoever, we just said, ‘Well, here’s this thing, how about this? Now it’s yours.’ I feel that Mulder had come to respect that there’s more to this than just him, that Scully is now a part of his life and he’s a part of hers. I think that she learned the danger of exploring the rebellious side, and that it has to be accompanied by responsibility. What she did almost got her killed. So I think that she probably has it a little in check, and yet she’s always carrying the memory of it on her back. It isn’t anything for her to let go of. But next time she’ll be smarter about it, and she won’t let it get so far away from her.”

--and were misunderstood both times.

They were also wrongfully done by here or there--

Morgan had the unhappy task of telling an understandably upset Anderson that the scene she specifically requested had been cut. 

Morgan and Wong were frustrated once more when the network decided to move “Never Again” out of its post-Super Bowl slot, and substitute “Leonard Betts,” the episode that was originally scheduled to air after “Never Again.” “Leonard Betts” ended with the wrenching realization by Scully that she might have contracted the cancer that afflicted the other female abduction victims she met in second season’s “Nisei.” This revelation impacted the rationale behind Scully’s behavior in “Never Again” in ways never intended by Morgan and Wong. “I felt horrible,” Morgan stated. “Those are not her motives for her actions in this episode. The motives in ‘Never Again’ are completely altered by posing that she has a disease or a death sentence...."

-- but did wrong themselves, despite unprecedented creative freedom (see the previous section.)

The trouble, it seems, is an inability to differentiate the criticisms they receive. The pearl-clutching, deaf-and-dumb moralizers over Home are not the same crowd scratching (nay, banging) their heads over the blatant and illogical inconsistencies in The Field Where I Died and Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man. (In fact, the last episode mentioned aged nicely, if the IMDb numbers haven't lied.) And that trouble compounds when they can't understand why a behemoth ship, constantly taking on mounting expectations and schedules, might halt for pit stops but won't change course for inconsistent passengers.

Lastly, while I can sympathize with the emotions both Glen Morgan and James Wong felt for having their work constantly tampered with, that sympathy dwindles when contemplating a few factors:

They were working for someone else's show, not their own.

They were given unlimited creative freedom upon their return, and were only reigned in after their projects continued to falter.

They were butting heads against two factors that the show runner himself wanted to keep ambiguous or under hat: CSM's backstory and Mulder and Scully's lives outside of work.

Having one's spirit crushed by back-to-back disappointments can't solely fall on the shoulders of the network or show runners when the first two ventures weren't touched, tampered, or changed (except for a run time you knew you had going in); and they can't fall solely on fans when the end results provided were lackluster in quality.

And an important last note: I do not feel that Glen Morgan or James Wong acted maliciously-- carelessly, mostly; overly self-involved here or there, most probably. Their focus remained on fleshing out the characters, exploring the ramifications of their actions, and digging up and handing over imperative context for canon-- attempting to iron out Mulder and Scully's split-up, William's adoption, and Charlie's estrangement in the Revival, for example. But they're not saints; and they still have an edge against criticism and interference that clings to and eats away at the quality of their work. In short, we are only glimpsing one aspect of Morgan's and Wong's lives during an intensely frustrating moment in their lives-- but it was important enough to The Field Where I Died's lore that I felt it was crucial to share.

CONCLUSION

For me, I'm glad Morgan and Wong messed up so badly that Gestapo CSM was still alive when canon CSM was born. To me, I think Morgan was way too eager (kindly, I shall reframe from saying 'self-involved') and way too disinclined to ask for necessary criticism for his projects. To me, I'm certain Morgan and Wong cared more about their concepts than the canon they were writing for-- making Mulder and Scully platonic (but could become romantic?) soulmates without providing essential explanation or further clarity. To me, I think focusing only on what Mulder gets out of this arrangement-- instead of exploring how this would affect Scully, as well-- was a cheap maneuver to vehicle in Morgan and his wife's love story (the same impulse that drove Morgan to write Melissa Scully as a romantic option for Mulder, that inspired the death of Frohike, and that butchered Maggie Scully's deathbed in Home Again: the impulse of wanting things his way.) For me, I'm glad this episode was too long, was chopped up very badly, and was ultimately exposed as a vanity project by fans' negative reactions. And, to me, I believe that negative reaction was largely brushed aside-- ignorantly, though not maliciously-- by Morgan because "fans just wanted Mulder and Scully together."

And, lastly: to me, Glen Morgan and James Wong-- while wrong to some extent-- at least take (partial) fault for their vision going awry. We're all human, we all make mistakes; we all learn and grow.

The rest I leave to you to draw your own conclusions.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[wardingshout]

Since I didn't draw anything for like half of 2024 I did an updated colour wheel instead! featuring only the newest of stuff I could find that fit.

I have also compiled a dump of many thoughts I want out of my head, like a little text post dump I guess. the tldr I guess I will just make "thank you".

Putting the most important thing first here which is. Every single time I catch myself thinking "no I need to draw smth other than alttp" a couple of very specific tags and messages pop into my head and I get so fired up to draw more alttp !!! the power I feel from that!!!!!

IIIIII feel like there used to be a way to do linebreaks but I can't remember how so my new text bit divider is random crap I can find lying around in my files

Ok here goes me being dramatic about something that only matters to me but feels so very important to get out for the sake of others too. I guess the gist of it is that tumblr is a rly important place to me and I'm so endlessly grateful for people always being so nice. at the end of the day I don't think I really care about much else in life than drawing and getting to share it with others makes it a much less lonely experience for me. I mostly just for myself, but I'm so grateful for the extra joy associated with posting it online too.

I feel a bit bad I can never seem to give back the kind of nice energy you guys give me. despite how much joy this place brings me, I'm just a naturally anxious person and I often chicken out of doing things myself. I'm so endlessly happy that people still bear with me or at least stick around to look at my art.

thanks to people's kindness I often find myself breaking out of the anxiety and getting a lot closer to initiating stuff myself, but I always get run over by some kind of irl issue instead, usually mental, but recently also physical health. I had so much fun on here this summer especially and I was so certain that this was the time I would make it last only for irl stuff to yet again show up and knock me out completely. every time that happens I feel like I have to rebuild whatever social bravery I had aquired from the beginning again and at this rate I won't ever get anywhere.

after weeks of very few work days, I feel like I'm finally rebuilding the courage to post and the concentration to manage drawing at all. it's not a lot of progress but I can feel it growing. from tomorrow it's back to full time work with no other breaks in sight and I'm scared my groove will be cut short already... I like my job but I've acknowledged I just can't thrive with full time work. I can bear it fine though, but it doesn't leave energy for much else in life.

I think the point here is. I know it's just social media but I've had so many good experiences on here and they're really precious to me. I hope one day I can be well enough to be that kind of influence for others too. my activity with art and presence online has become surprisingly reflective of how well or bad I'm doing irl, so I never I never want to give up on become a more present person.

the most important thing is art though, so finding the courage to get back to posting even if it's all I do, makes me happy too. thank you so much to everyone else who posts are too. I'm endlessly excited about all the cool things I get to experience and see online, thank you!

it is absolutely absurd how many drafts I have of just very frustrated moments where literally all I type is "if I have to be sick one more time I will lose my absolute mind holy shit" and having just been sick again? really feeling that !!!! it's also like. frustrating to feel you're making progress mentally and then you constantly get knocked into bed by phsyical health instead like come on I'm finally learning how to get Out of that place... and then every time you get sick, routunes have to be rebuild all over after, it suuuuucks....

I finally got a PC which has been absolutely life saving, However. I am still drawing on tegaki only... I'm so excited I can get back to bigger works on csp but I've gotten so used to seeing only my tegaki stuff, I'm scared of how much I'll suddenly hate my art when I see it differently again... hating your own art is probably a feeling that will never disappear but even so. I think I'm at a pretty content place right now and I'm worried about shaking it up. I can't let something like that knock me down when I'm only finally getting back to drawing regularly again... I already copied over the palette for some comfort so hopefully I can find a brush that feels similar too! at least I'm super excited about getting to pick some more colours !

and a very belated tag game thing !! I completely lost the original post by now but it was from @lele5429 and I've had it in my drafts this whole time, so better late than never to fill it out!

Last song: Alt Hvad Jeg Vil by Von Quar

Fav colours: warm yellows or light oranges!

Last book: switching between Assassin's Quest and Our Wives Under The Sea!

Last movie: The Princess Bride I think?? it was long ago so I feel like I'm forgetting something else though...

Last tv show: my roomie and I binged Twin Peaks season 3 as well as most of True Detective over christmas break we went Ham

Sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet !!

Relationship status: not interested

Last thing I googled: "nosferatu rats"... I see.....

Current obsession: alttp auish shenanigans... this one has not changed since I first drafted my response to this... on one hand I feel like I'm just filling out the gaps between games, but on the other it's getting very close to full au stuff... I always wanted to draw comics but had no ideas and for the first time in my life I'm drowning in ideas and fully held back by fear and skills haha

Looking forward to: actually surprisingly nothing at all? I'm looking forward to whatever good times I can create for myself I guess. the last few things I was looking forward to didn't go so well, so maybe it's nice to have nothing but the most normal and boring daily life ahead haha

[nxzz-skz]

Bound by contract (a bangchan x reader series)

Chapter 15

ᯓ★arranged marriage between nonidol!bangchan and fem!reader

ᯓ★ warnings: none

ᯓ★ note: send an ask or comment to be added to my taglist! (please specify which one :D )

ᯓ★ i cant believe i only have one more chapter left! i have a feeling a few of you won't be the happiest with the ending, but i did classify this fic as angst after all <3

chapter 14 - masterlist - chapter 16

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The weeks after that conversation with Chan felt like a daze of confusion and frustration. Every time he looked at you, it was like he was searching for something - for the right words, for the right answer.

But no matter how hard he tried to close the distance between you, you couldn't get rid of the gut feeling that something else was wrong.

You spent more time thinking, mentally replaying his words over and over again, trying to understand what he'd said. Trust me. But how could you?

Chan had always been smart, hiding pieces of himself behind his walls. But now, those walls felt like they wouldn't stop rising higher, keeping you at an impossible distance.

And then there was Minho.

You couldn't ignore his taunts, his implications, his warnings that were telling you that you weren't seeing the full picture. A part of you wanted to ignore him - to pretend it was just his usual manipulation. But the nagging doubt never left you.

Chan's cagey behaviour only made the gap between you wider. He was always "busy," always distant, always had an excuse. He kept on saying he was protecting you, but what if the protection came at a price you weren't willing to pay?

You needed to know the truth. Needed to understand what you were dealing with.

So, one night, when Chan left for another one of his "meetings," you did something you never dreamed of - something you never wanted to do. You went through his things.

His office was the first place you looked. As soon as you stepped in the room, you eyes instantly went to the pile of papers neatly stacked in the corner of the desk. They were mostly business reports, but there were a few things that caught your attention.

Phone numbers. Names. Addresses.

The handwriting was oddly familiar. Your heart dropped when you recognised it - Minho's.

The realisation hit you like a punch to the gut. Minho wasn't just playing games. He had created something much bigger, something that had tangled Chan into its web.

Your hands trembled as you picked up the documents. There were plans - serious plans - and your heart raced as you realised just how far Chan was involved.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

When Chan came home later that evening, the tension between you was palpable. You were sitting at the kitchen table, the papers spread out in front of you. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the evidence you had uncovered.

“Y/N…”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. You could see it in his eyes — he knew what you’d found.

He walked over, slowly, carefully, like he was trying to read your face. When he reached the table, his hands hovered over the papers, but he didn’t touch them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your chest was tight with the weight of the question, with the weight of everything that had been building between you.

Chan swallowed, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t want to drag you into this, Y/N. This isn’t… this isn’t your world.”

You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor. “But I’m your wife, Chan! How can you say that this isn’t my world when I’m in it too? Don’t you trust me?”

His eyes flickered with pain, but he didn’t answer right away.

“I do trust you,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “But I’m protecting you. There are people who… who want to hurt you. I can’t let that happen.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you stepped back, the hurt visible in your expression. “You can’t protect me if you’re not honest with me. If you keep me in the dark, you’re just keeping me vulnerable.”

Chan’s face twisted with frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly at war with himself. “Y/N, I’m trying. But it’s not that simple. You don’t understand what’s at stake here. I can’t involve you in this.”

“You already have,” you snapped, your voice sharp with emotion. “I’m already involved, Chan. Whether you want me to be or not.”

The words hung between you, heavy with all the things you couldn’t say. But even though you were so angry, there was still a part of you that wanted him to take you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay.

But you didn’t think that was possible anymore.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

ᯓ★ Reblogs and follows appreciated!

ᯓ★ taglist: @bluesoobinnie @lynastrawberry @nappynapnaps @straykidslover2024

ᯓ★ perm taglist: @cafffeineconnoisseur @skzbiasot8 @candyquokka @idiotmaterial @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @hanji-coffee @jeonginsbaee

[prettygoododds]

Thank you so much @rimeswithpurple @emeryhall @roomwithanopenfire @monbons @nausikaaa @artsyunderstudy and @martsonmars for the tags! You can definitely tell everyone is done digging themselves out of the holidays and countdown. I'm loving all the content I'm seeing.

I've particularly liked seeing some people's fandom's resolutions. It made me think of my own.

I spent a lot of last year trying to find a good balance between the things I'm obligated to do and the things I want to do. By the time the COC hit, I was in the mindset that the things I needed to do were too much and I had to skip COC this year. This made me incredibly angry and resentful. I hated that the thing I wanted to do was the thing I gave up. So, with spite fueling me forward, I did the COC and I'm so glad I did. But that did make me reflect on how I proceed.

I'm not going to overthink things. I'm going to do the things that make me happy. And what makes me happy is this fandom, the supportive people in it and writing. I need to lean on other folks for the things that are obligations. I don't have to do all the things, but I should at least do the things that bring me joy.

That being said, who wants to see a little of that joy?

Picket Fence blurb:

This happens again and again.  An almost blowie in his kitchen, a hot and heavy grind on his sofa that came to an abrupt halt when his aunt stopped by, and one unfortunate tumble in his garden that ended with both of us thorny and grumpy. And look, I’m all for edging, but not like this. Not spread out over days and days and with no actual end in sight.  I’m ready to explode. Literally.

A non-Carry On blurb (A Power Unbound Jack/Alan) :

“Apologies my lord,” Alan says back, breathing heavily into neck. “I wasn’t expecting you.” “Am I to understand you are always entertaining handsome men at your desk then?” “There was a handsome man at my desk?” Alan says cheekily. “I only saw you, my lord. Who could see anyone else once you’re in the room.” “You do not have to placate me,” Jack growls, frustrated by his own insecurities. “I know a younger, better man when I see one.” “You’ll have to point them out to me next time,” Alan says, catching Jack’s chin in his fingers and forcing him to look him in the eyes. “For I saw no one who could hold a candle to my stubborn aristocrat.” Jack has to close his eyes and absorb that last sentence.

I have something else that I'll be posting soon, but I don't want to spoil it so just know you'll see something soon-ish.

I've also got to start work shopping something for the COBB. If anyone has an idea I would not be opposed to a little jump start because I am stuck.

Ok, well, I feel this got wordy. Thanks if you stayed to the end. Here's some very non-pressure tags:

@ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername

@shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @wellbelesbian @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla

@blackberrysummerblog @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature

@shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @hushed-chorus @youarenevertooold

@noblecorgi @talentpiper11 @bookish-bogwitch

[hksdlgsyappage]

Autumn

Aaron hotchner x female reader

C: angst

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Aaron Hotchner's dedication to his FBI work strains his relationship with his partner, who feels neglected and invisible.

Aaron Hotchner never seemed to stop. There were always cases to solve, lives to save, and people who needed him. But as much as he wanted to help the world, he was losing grip on the one thing that mattered most to him—the person sitting across from him in their dimly lit apartment.

She sat at the small kitchen table, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her coffee cup. Her eyes, which once sparkled with life and warmth, now felt distant, clouded by frustration. She knew who Aaron was—the man who was always there for everyone else, always putting the Bureau and its cases first—but she had never anticipated how that would make her feel like she was living in the shadows.

Aaron stood by the counter, his jacket still on, his tie loosely hanging from his neck. He had just come from another long day at the office, the weight of the day’s work heavy on his shoulders. His eyes were tired, his jaw clenched as though he was carrying the weight of the world. But when his gaze met hers, it was clear—he knew something was wrong. She had pulled away, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to reach her anymore.

“We need to talk,” Aaron said, his voice low, tinged with the exhaustion of a man who had been running on fumes for far too long.

She took a long breath and looked up, her lips tight. “We do,” she replied softly, the sadness in her voice evident. “But I don’t think either of us wants to hear it.”

Aaron furrowed his brow, stepping closer, his gaze softening. “Talk to me,” he urged, his hand resting on the table in front of her. "I can’t fix this if I don’t know what’s wrong."

She shook her head, her fingers still tracing the cup in a rhythmic pattern, almost like a nervous habit she’d developed. "You’re always fixing things, Aaron," she said quietly. "But you never fix us."

His heart tightened at her words, but he didn’t argue. He had always been good at fixing things—problems, cases, people—but when it came to his own life, it was as if the pieces never quite fit together. The team at the BAU needed him. His work consumed him. But what had that left for her? For them?

“I’m trying,” he said after a long pause, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m trying, but there’s always something else, something more urgent. I’m not trying to push you away. But I can’t stop, not when people need me.” She stood, a sudden movement, her eyes flashing with frustration. “And what about me, Aaron? Don’t I need you?” she asked, her voice rising, but not with anger—just hurt. “I know you love your job, but I’m here too, and I’m… I’m drowning.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he just stood there, stunned. The truth had never been so sharp, so clear. He had been so absorbed in his work, in saving everyone else, that he hadn’t noticed how far apart they had drifted. “I didn’t mean to…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, because he knew the truth—he had meant to. He had meant to give more, but somehow the balance between work and love had always been skewed.

There was always another call, another case, another life that needed saving, but in the end, he had lost her. “Do you even see me anymore, Aaron?” Her voice cracked as she looked at him, her heart breaking in two. “Do you see how much I’ve changed? How much we’ve changed? You say you’re trying, but you’re not. You’re here, but you’re not really here.”

He wanted to say something, anything to make it better, but the words wouldn’t come. His mind raced through the days, the nights he’d stayed at work, the calls he had ignored, the moments he had promised to make up for later. Later had never come. And now she was slipping through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, a mere breath against the thick silence. “I never meant for it to be like this. I never meant to make you feel invisible.” She shook her head slowly, the weight of it all too much to bear. “It’s not just about you apologizing, Aaron. It’s about what you’re doing with that apology. You keep saying you’re sorry, but you don’t change. You think that being sorry will fix everything, but sometimes that’s just not enough.”

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stepped back, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and sorrow that tore him apart. “I can’t keep waiting, Aaron. I can’t keep waiting for you to come home, for you to come back to me. You promised me once that we’d find a way, that we’d be a team. But I’m not in this alone anymore. I can’t be.”

Aaron’s chest tightened, his breath shallow. He didn’t want to lose her. He had never wanted that. He had promised to always be there for her, but somewhere along the way, the job had become a wall he couldn’t tear down. “I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you more than anything, but I don’t know how to do this… how to make it right.” She closed her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. “I love you too, Aaron. But I’m not sure I can keep waiting for you to see me. For us. Maybe this is where we stop trying.”

The words felt like a death sentence, a final blow he had never expected. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other—it was the overwhelming reality that love alone couldn’t hold them together anymore. The cracks had formed, too deep to ignore, and no amount of apologies could fill them.

Aaron stood in silence as she walked to the door, her heart aching with every step. He wanted to stop her, to beg her to stay, but the truth was, he had been living in a lie—thinking that his love for her could somehow fill the emptiness created by his absence.

“I’ll always love you,” he said quietly, watching as she turned the handle. "But I can’t make you wait anymore."

She paused, her hand on the door, but she didn’t look back. The silence between them was deafening, and all that remained was the sound of her heart breaking.

And with that, she walked out the door.

Aaron stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the door she had just closed. The weight of his choices hung over him like a dark cloud, but the truth remained—he had been too busy saving the world to save the one thing that mattered most. Now, he was left with nothing but regret and the haunting question of when he had stopped seeing her.

[sukunasbow]

using a pink ribbon to bind readers hands with galinda for the first time:

bondage with galinda ; mdni

“are they too tight, darling?” the blonde’s gaze glances at the pink ribbons keeping your wrists tied to the bedposts. you’re lying down on the bed with raised arms and nothing on, giving her the perfect view of your body.

“a little.” you huff. “this is so unfair, i just wanna touch you.”

“you should’ve thought about that before i caught you flirting with fiyero in class.”

“for the millionth time, i swear to the wizard that i wasn’t flirting! he just wanted help with the paper we were working on.” you look up at galinda with furrowed eyebrows as she stands at the end of the bed, slowly starting to remove her pink babydoll dress, leaving her in nothing but thin lace panties that match the colour of the dress. your gaze looks up and down at her body, practically eye fucking her. “please, baby. i’ll make you feel so good.” you whisper, “promise.”

galinda gives you a mocking pout, shaking her head gently. “no touching, only looking. i’m teaching you a lesson…” she brings her hands up to her tits, sensually squeezing the soft and plush flesh. “if you want to keep touching me.” she pauses for a moment to pinch her own nipples, letting out an exaggerated moan to tease you. “then next time fiyero tries to sneakily flirt with you by requesting help for work he’s typically perfect at completing, i expect you to turn him down.” galinda rolls her eyes back as she continues fondling her own breasts.

“i will, i promise.” you lick your bottom lip and watch her with hazy eyes. “just please, come on.” your eyes drift down to stare at the slight peek of her cunt through the see through panties. you feel yourself instantly get wetter, your clit throbbing with need, begging for attention. galinda’s lips slowly firm into a smirk, knowing exactly what you’re feeling. she pulls down her panties and before you can get a long look, she climbs onto the bed and straddles your hips. she sits herself down on you and you let out a small whimper at the feeling of her own wet cunt rubbing against yours. “galinda, i’ll do whatever you ask, just..” before you can continue begging, you’re cut off with intense pleasure as she rocks her hips back and forth, your clits bumping together with every movement. “fuck, yes, keep going..’ss good.”

“hmm, that feels good, sweetheart?” she coos, looking down at your with her big doe eyes.

“yes, yes.” you eagerly moan out. your lips part to say something else, however, your clit aches when she suddenly climbs off of you and walks to your shared dorm room dresser. you move to try and and reach out for her, but you’re immediately pulled back by the ribbon. “fuck!” you raise your voice in frustration. you shift your head to the side and try and bite at the knots, attempting to free yourself.

“no, no.” galinda hurries back to the bed, carefully moving your head back to face her. “patience.” you bite your lip in anger, desperation filling your mind, wanting nothing but to touch every inch of her soft body. your girlfriend climbs back into the bed, sitting down in between your spread things, giving her the perfect view of your pussy. “i’ve been wanting to try this out.” she grins and shows you a glittery pink vibrator that you bought for the two of you months ago. you jokingly bought it, as it screamed her with the colour as soon as you saw it.

“galinda, i’m sorry, baby. i jus’ wanna touch you.” you whine.

galinda ignores your pleas and presses the vibrator to your clit. a low buzzing sound echoes throughout the room. your eyes flutter shut at the immediate pleasure and your hips buck at the sensation. “i wonder what this button does.” she feigns innocence, clicking the button on the toy and increasing the vibrator power to the maximum.

“oh my, fuck! galinda, ‘ss too much!” your hands twitch in the ribbons and your legs shake. the vibrations jolt on your clit and you can feel them in your core, sending shivers up your spine. “please.” you moan out.

“i think you can take it, hm?”

your mouth falls open and saliva pools at the corner of your mouth. “galinda..” you mutter out. she spreads her legs slightly and brings her free hand down to her pussy, slowly starting to move two fingers along her clit, getting herself off as she watches you come undone under the vibrator. “i can take care of that for you.” you’re barely able to finish your sentence, overcome by your own pleasure. your moans get louder as she shakes her head and presses the vibrator down onto your pussy even harder. “fuck!” you cry out. tears fill up your eyes as you feel yourself come undone, your clit throbbing while your pussy gushes out cum, painting the bedsheets below you.

“so pretty.” galinda breathes out, continuing to rub at her clit while staring at the sight of your leaking pussy. “did so good for me, honey.”

your chest heaves as you recover from your orgasm. “i did good?” you pause, “then let me touch you, please. i know you need me to help you out.” ever since the two of you got together, galinda constantly mentions her struggles to get off without your hands or without your help.

she contemplates for a second, her hips bucking towards you as the pads of her fingers speed up on her clit. “promise you won’t flirt with him again?”

despite knowing you weren’t flirting with the prince, you’re desperate to touch her and avoid facing even more punishment for arguing about the topic. “i promise.” she hurriedly nods and rushes to untie you.

“come here, then.” she gasps, waiting for you to dive between her spread legs.

[theamityelf]

The first time Celeste put makeup on Makoto, he noticed his classmates starting to act differently around him.

Taka kept stuttering and his face was as red as a tomato(from holding in laughter, he assumes). Mukuro wouldn't even look at him(probably because she did wanna laugh). Leon wouldn't stop staring and would always open the door for him(probably because as a joke). Chihiro always carried his bags and books(only because felt bad him). Mondo kept getting angry and frustrated with him and rarely talked to him(okay, he doesn't know why that one happens). And Junko kept calling him pretty boy(to make fun of him, of course).

He sees his classmates different behaviors and didn't think much of it once the whole 'Celeste doing his makeup' kind of becomes a thing, thinking they were probably making fun of him. (What he did not see, however, was his classmates being idiots while trying to impress him)

(previous post: class treating Makoto differently bc of makeup)

Kyoko and Sayaka both try to nudge him closer to understanding the effect he's having on the class.

"You sure are getting a lot of attention today," Sayaka says brightly.

"Yeah, it's pretty embarrassing, but part of my promise to Celeste was that I couldn't wash it off until the end of the day, so I'm kind of stuck with it. Hopefully, everyone forgets about it tomorrow."

"Embarrassing? Why?"

"Well, I know I look silly, and everyone's kind of laughing at me..."

"Not at all! You look cute! I'm sure everyone's just noticing how cute you look."

"Haha, you think so? You always have such a positive spin on everything."

Meanwhile Kyoko's approach is more like:

"Do you have plans for lunch today?"

"Yeah," Makoto replies. "Byakuya's kind of ordered me to go off-campus with him to a fancy restaurant, so he can prove something about how bad my taste is. I was worried we might miss class if we go off-campus for lunch, but Byakuya says the waitstaff will be moving at the speed of light to accommodate him. So now I'm just worried that we won't hear the end of it from Taka when we get back."

"I see. Has Byakuya invited anyone else out to lunch?"

"Not that I know of. Oh, did you want to come, too? I think he's in the library, now, if you want to go ask him together."

Kyoko hides a smile behind her gloved hand. "As tempting as that is, I was more curious to discuss the exclusivity of the invitation. Has he ever invited someone to lunch before?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. From what he's said, probably not."

"Interesting. Then something must be different about you."

"I think it's great that he's ready to start having friends. If I can convince him to take Celeste somewhere nice, maybe she won't put this stuff on my face again for a while."

"You don't like how you look today?"

"I don't know. It's...weird for me. And everybody's staring and laughing."

"Laughing? I think maybe you need to think more about the reactions everyone has had. Try to get past your initial assumptions and really pay attention. I believe you can figure this out yourself."

"Figure what out?!" Makoto asks, as she walks away.

[getawayheaven]

.

[artsydudejude]

hey so babe haha hear me out babe what IF.... i made my jekyll & hyde a metaphor for autism..... wherein jekyll represents masking and the hyde transformation is brought on by overstimulation and stress culminating in a meltdown. and then hyde. is just pure unrestrained autism + a whole lotra rage thanks to the stress of prolonged masking.... haha wouldn't that be weird lol probably a dumb idea... unless 👀

[longmaxsilvarg]

will forever have a soft spot for chloe cause yeah dawg i get it we can try to avoid becoming attached out of the overwhelming fear of being abandoned again but miserably fail together