#Feel like most people didn't expect that scene

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[dreamwreaver]

ngl it's surprising to see how many parallels from canon ships Charlastor has with. lucilith, stolitz, Millie x Moxxie (have no clue what their ship name is) and Huskerdust(not canon yet but there's definitely a few similar traits charlastor shares with it)

For a non-canon ship, it sure is similar to a lot of canon relationships

If hazbin was made by literally any other person charlastor would be endgame canon. Viv has made a couple of comparisons about what chaggie is "allegedly" like that I simply don't see. They're like Jack and Sally, no because Sally never told Jack stop being the person you are to please others she actually told him to stop being something your not to try and fill an emotional void.

Oh, they made chaggie canon because the boarders were working on scenes where Charlie is talking to her partner and they just kept drawing vaggie in there because there was so much chemistry. Like, can we see this fucking amazeballs script that had the boarders sticking vaggie in all those moments because from where I'm standing show vaggie doesn't even pass the sexy lamp test. We already know chaggie wasn't originally supposed to be canon because Proto Vaggie was paired with angel dust! So what exactly is so captivating about Charlie and Vaggie's dynamic that they're established canon and yet don't feel like it? And before anyone says "well they've been together a while so it's dumb to expect them to be as passionate as the beginning"

Fizzmodeus. I don't care that Ozzie's the embodiment of lust. Half the time we saw those two together the point of their dynamic was demonstrating how stupidly in love they were while trying to disguise it as simple sexual attraction. And just based off simple math; fizz met Ozzie after becoming mammon's heir right? That clown competition has been held every year since fizz first won it right? And by the time he quits he's been doing it for nearly 10 years. Even being generous and figuring fizz and Ozzie didn't immediately get together I would still wager based on Ozzie's protectiveness, the detailed portrait in his office, the fact that he has a first aid kit with ready to go robotic limb placements it's been at least 5 years they've been together. So in that 5-10 year range they are still so in love it's sickening and obvious enough to everyone that the general reaction to the public finding out was "I knew it!"

And before we say that it was constrained for time, fizzmodeus before season 2 had a song, and Ozzie comforting fizz after he'd been knocked out. And the entire fandom clocked them as a ship. Even if they weren't originally intended to be, like chaggie, like huskerdust too, we can see them as a pre-established couple that STILL has chemistry despite having their own lives and having been together for a while.

Ozzie flat out refused to give stolas a crystal because fizz hated blitz, was trusted enough to be given the details of the worst day of fizz's life, could clock immediately once fizz and blitz had reconciled that this was the person who had his most important person's back and could be counted on. And even though Ozzie didn't like that fizz felt obligated to continue on with the clown thing for mammon, communicated that he didn't like how so many people saw fizz as a product to be bought and enjoyed, didn't like having to be the one in charge of MAKING that product, he never stopped fizz from making his own choices, he supported his partner in MEANINGFUL ways that do not change the essence of who fizz is. He listens and offers support if not solutions, encouragement that their partner can handle themselves and they will be there if needed.

Who does that for Charlie? Who refuses to leave her alone while she falls into a pit of self loathing? Really look Charlie and alastor's screen time in hello Rosie. Alastor is very calculating, and when he chooses to speak is exactly as important as what he chooses to say.

1. He doesn't like seeing Charlie wallow in self pity, as condescending as it likely comes across we already know he loves seeing Vox with his tail between his legs and doesn't believe in Charlie's goals so why wouldn't he take the opportunity to gloat about being right?

2. While he may like to prey on overconfidence in his victims we already know Charlie would have been more than willing to sell her soul for a chance at protecting her people. She was at her lowest point and rather than striking when she was in her darkest most defeated place he chose to wait until she was good and pissed and STILL didn't ask for her soul.

I fully believe he intended to make her mad because being mad means you're more than likely to do something about it. He antagonizes her on purpose so her fire comes back. When they go to Rosie's (which, again, we know he chose because cannibal town caters to Charlie's natural communication style) he only does enough to make sure Charlie's needs are clearly communicated to the overlord and provides a tangible benefit catered to their sensibilities. And when she's fully ready to be herself he does the equivalent of putting his actual heart in her hands. He had every confidence she could convince the other cannibals to join her cause. And then again the night before they could all die; he gives her his mic AGAIN. Charlie and Alastor might as well be pre-established canon because he does all the emotional work of a partner and they work together so seamlessly even when he's doing things she doesn't particularly like she knows why he does business the way he does.

[lemonduckisnowawake]

*gasps as I crawl up to this blog, covered in blood and sweat and gore* After 300 pages of story scenes, 700 pages of short stories, multiple documents of additional short story dumps, 7 folders, and some other things, I have successfully found at *least* FIVE romance scenes that aren't written with hatred and pain, aren't written out of spite, aren't made to be ridiculous and/or funny, aren't heavily made to be an allegory, aren't noncanon cause meh, AND aren't made to be a tragedy. At least 5 (it's sadly less than five but I'm done looking at what I didn't) small written things in over 6 years of Serious Writing that feature a romance that is soft, taken seriously, canon, AND not made to be purposefully ridiculous cause I Could Not.

All that to prove to a friend I could do romance softly and seriously after they shared something really very sweet and well written. ALL THAT JUST TO SHOW THAT I KIND OF ALREADY SHARED SOMETHING LIKE THAT A FEW WEEKS BACK

[sadlynotthevoid]

Tbh, ever since I saw this one anime scene in youtube where an old man told (who i suppose was) the mc of course he'd recognize his own son, he's his dad (as in, he noticed the person in the body wasn't his own son anymore), I think my expectatives went a bit way too up.

That said, I think what bothered me wasn't that no one noticed he changed, but that they did and, at least in Krs!Cale's side, no one went to him about it.

I mean, team 1's first thought when Heniroksoo exhibited not-rok soo behaviour was going to check on him to see if he was okay. They were concerned for his health, thinking he could have hit his head or something.

Meanwhile in Krs!Cale's side, people didn't worry until he went and ended up getting hurt. Which, valid. Most of them didn't meet him until the soul swap had already happened. But his family saw him suddenly start to act strange and went like "oh well" and Deruth specifically was "oh well, I have more urgent matters to take care of". Sir??? that's your damn son!

And like, I know they noticed he changed but— *frustrated noises* it gave off the impression that they were relieved. And if they had talked about it and gotten the impression that Cale just changed, matured, whatever, it wouldn't bother me. But they didn't (at least I don't remember they doing so, or they didn't as far as I read. No, sending your butler to stalk him doesn't count. Not all issues can be told at first sight), they just shrugged and kept with their day. It gives me the feeling that they thought of him like you think of troublesome matters you don't want to deal with. Like, "as long as is not a problem". (To be fair, I really don't expect Bassen or Lily to have such talk with their older brother. They're kids. But Deruth is his father—)

And also, or what they know there could had been a problem, just one they didn't notice or that didn't cause trouble as his usual self. I mean, team 1 was into something, he could have hit his head. He could have been blackmailed and the behaviour being a side effect of seeing just one side of the picture. It's a fantasy world, he could have been possessed by a ghost or something. He could have decided to complete a bucket list (which actually makes sense btw). Uh, I really don't know about this but maybe a personality disorder? They didn't really know what was going on. But they also didn't really cared until Cale started to get hurt, which was after he changed so... Yeah, it bothers me because it makes me feel bad for OgCale.

Now I need an AU where they don't exchange bodies, but OgCale's starts acting odd anyways. Like, toning down his lout behaviour, being less harsh and so, maybe doing strange stuff but that doesn't really affect them. And turns out he's completing a bucket list or got amnesia and is trying to hide it.

And his family and such don't start to worry until way later on, when the realization something big happened hits them in the face (let's be real, I mostly mean Deruth and any other responsible adult). Luckily, Rok Soo (maybe ogCale's new friend, maybe a classmate or coworker, maybe the guy from ogCale's usual cafe) got involved way earlier and they (as in Rok Soo, whoever comes with him, and OgCale) were handling it.

Sometimes i forget everyone *did* notice something was up when cale and og cale switched in both worlds. Team 1 noticed, but also literally everyone at the henituse fief. Its just that noone is abt to guess “a person from another world took over his body”, the most supernatural thing ppl might have guessed would prolly be “he got three ghosts of christmased”

[demilypyro]

So I've seen a few too many people on twitter talking about The Kiss Scene from the new Scott Pilgrim anime. People saying it's fetishistic and indulgent, people calling it male gazey, etc. And while the kiss itself is certainly a bit exaggerated, I felt like writing a bit about why I disagree, and why context is important, like it always is. But it basically turned into an extended analysis on the metatextual treatment of Roxie Richter. So bear with me. It's a long post.

What really matters about this scene is not the kiss itself, but what precedes it. Not even just the fight scene just before it, but what precedes the whole anime series, really. And that's the Scott Pilgrim comic book, and the live action movie. Because in both, Roxie is a punchline.

She's a joke. Her character starts and ends with "one of the exes is actually a girl, I bet you didn't expect that." Jokes are made about Ramona's latent bisexuality, the movie especially treating it as funny and absurd, and her validity as a romantic interest is entirely written off by Ramona as being "just a phase." There's a fight scene, she's defeated by a man giving her an orgasm which implicitly calls her sexuality into question (come on), and the movie just moves on. It sucks. It really, really sucks.

The comic fares a little better. It never veers into outright homophobia like the movie does, and while the line about Ramona having gone through a phase remains, Roxie actually gets one over on Scott when Ramona briefly gets back with Roxie. But Roxie is still only barely a character. Like all the other evil exes, she's just a stepping stone towards the male protagonist's development. She barely even gets any screentime before she's defeated by Scott's "power of love." But Roxie stands out, since she's the only villain who is queer, or at least had been confirmed queer at that point (hi Todd). In a series that champions multiple gay men in the supporting cast, the single undeniable lesbian in the story is a villain. She's labeled as evil, made fun of, pushed aside in favor of the men, and then discarded. Her screentime was never about her, or her feelings for Ramona. It was about the straight, male protagonist needing to overcome her. And that was Roxie Richter. An unfortunate victim of the 2010s.

Fast forward to current year, and the new anime series is announced. Everybody sits down to watch the new series expecting another retelling of the same story, and.... hang on, that straight male protagonist I mentioned just died in the first episode. And now it's humanizing the villains from the original story. And there's Roxie, introduced alongside the other evil exes in the second episode, and she's being played entirely straight, without a punchline in sight. No jokes are made about her gender, no questions are made of her validity as one of Ramona's romantic interests. The narrative considers her important. In one episode, she already gets more respect than she did in either of the previous iterations of Scott Pilgrim. And this isn't even her focus episode yet... which happens to be the very next one.

The anime series goes to great lengths to flesh out the original story's villains and to have Ramona reconcile with them. And I don't think it's a coincidence that Roxie gets to go first. While Matthew Patel gets his development in episode 2, Roxie is the first to directly confront Ramona, now our main protagonist. This is notable too because it's the only time the exes are encountered out of order. Roxie is supposed to be number 4, but she's first in line, and later on you realize that she's the only one who's out of sequence. She's the one who sets the precedent for the villains being redeemed. She's the most important character for Ramona to reconcile with.

What follows is probably the most extensive, elaborate 1 on 1 fight scene in the whole show. Roxie fights like a wounded animal, her motions are desperate and pained. Ramona can only barely fight back against her onslaught. Different set-pieces fly by at breakneck speed as Roxie relentlessly lays her feelings at Ramona's feet through her attacks and her distraught shouts. And unlike the comic or the movie, Ramona acknowledges them, and sincerely apologizes. And the two end up just laying there, exhausted, reminiscing about when they were together.

Only after this, after all of this, does the kiss scene happen. Roxie has been vindicated, she has reconciled with the person who hurt her, the narrative has deemed that her anger is justified and has redeemed her character. And she gets her victory lap by making the nearest other hot girl question her heterosexuality, sharing a sloppy kiss with her as the music triumphantly crescendos.

It's... a little self-congratulatory, honestly. But it's good. It's redemption for a character who had been mistreated for over a decade. And she punctuates the moment by being very, very gay where everyone can see it, no men anywhere in sight. Because this is her moment. And then she leaves the plot, on her own accord this time, while humming the hampster dance. What a legend. How could anything be wrong with this.

[poppyberry]

Everybody NEEDS to listen to the new Wild Life retrospective on Imp and Skizz's podcast. They got Grian called in and they give so many cool insights into the series (and honestly say so many things I think people need to hear)

Highlights for me:

Grian designed each wild card to be weaponized and wanted everyone to take advantage of them. He goes over each individually and all the thought he put into them and all the work the backend team put into their execution. He's rightfully really proud of them. Him gushing about Trivia Bot and how excited he was to show his friends the "coolest snail ever" is particularly sweet.

Skizz says discovering each wild card was a LOT of fun. He says something like "I can't believe as an adult I get to have so much fun." Impulse is really impressed with the execution of each, citing stuff like making it rain when the time one activated and the passive mobs spawning in before being replaced, and how the little details like that built excitement and tension.

Grian says how he understands that some viewers maybe just want more seasons of the essentially the same series, ie six seasons of just Third Life, but it's more important to him that the Lifers get to experience something new and fresh. He also doesn't like comparing each series, preferring to consider each one as its own thing.

Impulse can't wait to do another Life series, Skizz is equally excited but tries to hold discussion about it back since he doesn't want anyone pressuring Grian, who is palpably burned out. Like, you can hear how tired this man is. Grian says there will probably be more series since everyone is still enjoying it, but he's not trying to outdo himself and not to expect him to keep escalating.

Skizz always tries to do something new each season yet feels like he always falls back into the same habits and dynamics, but not this time: he feels like he got to explore a new dynamic with the Spanners and had a blast doing it. He and Grian gush about how much fun they had with their "big brother trying to keep his little brothers alive" routine.

They have a grand time making fun of Impulse and his "Sweats". Impulse is unabashedly still hungry to win a series.

Impulse didn't want to kill zombie Skizz, because of the five minute cooldown, but Skizz makes clear that he was really happy with being a zombie, even if there was a lot of doing nothing in between summons. He says it means a lot to him that he got to help with the burden of facilitating the series, even just a little bit.

Grian gives good insight into his personal life strategy: he does some things to deliberately test his relationship with other players. Standing in the Danger Zone was a trust exercise, testing Jimmy and Scar. Jimmy and Scar failed.

Despite Scar failing the trust exercise, Grian heard the disappointment in Scar's voice about the Snail Bot thing and immediately caved, but he's really happy that it led them to in-canon reconciling and becoming strong allies again.

Grian's favorite moment was making Jimmy pay for the failed trust exercise by blowing up the bunker, particularly pleased with his one liner of "it was always gonna be like this". He says Wild Life as a whole has been the most enjoyable series for him, even though he didn't get to have as much fun as the other players due to knowing all the wild cards.

All three of them gush over the scene of everybody failing to kill Joel as he teleports around, laughing about how it was straight out of a movie or an anime. Impulse feels like Joel took his superpower to a new level, but Grian reminds him the he didn't have an army chasing him around trying to kill him. They're all super impressed with how the finale turned out.

Some of the powers were assigned (Cleo, BigB, BDubs, Scar, Lizzie), some were random (Impulse, Martyn). Some were based on players' names, others on their personal narratives, but coming up with ~16 different powers without including any that would just be exploited for cheap instakills was really difficult, which is why there were so many espionage ones. Hilariously, Grian was hoping Scar would accidentally kill Jimmy by punching him off a cliff because of their ritual of trying punching in the earlier episodes. He also gave Scar that power because he knew Scar wouldn't feel bad about killing people with it.

Grian chose to give himself the mimic so he could show people how their powers worked if he needed to, and so that it wasn't given to somebody else who'd have to spend the whole session figuring out the mechanics of 15 separate superpowers and potentially dying because of it. And because he thinks its the coolest one and he wanted it (lol)

All around there's tons of fun details and stuff in this episode of the podcast and absolutely everybody should listen to it all the way through.

[qqueenofhades]

I think its genuinely fascinating how Biden has somehow become the bad vibes sin eater for the party. I'm seeing people who were doing the whole "voting doesn't matter both old men are the same" pivot hard into voting as harm reduction. The anti voting rhetoric has COMPLETELY lost The Youths on tiktok. People suddenly remember the good things the Biden administration has done but don't associate Harris with any of the things they didn't like. In my swing state volunteers are signing up in droves. People feel ENERGIZED, the vibe shift pre and post Biden dropping from the race has just been insane

Y'know, that is a... good way of putting it. It's also why I'm quite sure that Biden has probably been planning it for a while. I don't think he was intending to step down, and didn't want to be forced out at the drop of a hat, but after he realized that the circus was never going to stop until he did, he did the honorable fall-on-his-own-sword thing and definitely, DEFINITELY spent some time choreographing this behind the scenes. Because while the roll-out has been very smooth, it could just as easily (as many of us were expecting) have been a total disaster, and that doesn't happen without SOME planning. It's also entirely possible that the campaign staff flipped from Biden to Harris are superhuman, to come up with a massive online roll-out, new branding, new signs (they had plenty of 'em in Wisconsin yesterday), new everything, but I'm guessing it's a combination of both. Biden has spent his entire political career being underestimated, and after we literally made a meme out of Dark Brandon juking the Republicans out of their shoes, we should definitely give credit where credit is due in how masterfully he pulled it off.

Because we have had eight years defined by the central question of Whether The President Is a God King Who Should Serve For Life (the MAGAts obviously think yes), the sheer idea of a president willingly giving up his power BEFORE he had to is also novel and admirable. It's sad that this is the case, but so be it. The Republicans also got a heaping helping of Be Careful What You Wish For that was undoubtedly brilliant; they've been yelling for years that Biden is old and frail and can't serve and should step down. Biden went "lol okay" and gave it to them, and now they're fucked.

Aside from that, on the most basic level, it's far, far easier to see the actual difference in the parties with Harris as the nominee, just because it shows that one party is willing to make progress and reflect the new demographic reality and social mores of America, and the other one is not. Now to be clear, Biden deserves an incredible amount of credit for coming out of retirement (he was ALREADY 77 years old when he became president and had had decades of a long and respected career in public service behind him) to fight, beat Trump, and deliver an incredibly successful presidency. He held the line against authoritarianism at home and abroad, he rescued the trashed American economy and managed a world-leading recovery from Covid, he stood up for democracy, he spent four years filling the benches with liberal judges to reverse even some of the Trump/McConnell hack job, he finally passed comprehensive infrastructure investment and the Green New Deal under the name of the Inflation Reduction Act -- and so on. Many of these priorities had been languishing for decades or were completely trashed under Trump, and he could not have done so much in just 4 years without all that age, skill, and experience. Hence why all the Ageism!!! was (aside from being a Republican/media smear job) dumb. He's able to do the job because he has had decades to study. Turns out that makes you actually pretty damn good at it.

Yes, Biden could not do as much as he wanted or originally planned, had to deal with MAGA Republicans and Joe Manchin/Kyrsten Sinema sabotaging him the whole time (lololol Manchin, possible possessor of the World's Biggest Ego and with Trump around that's saying something, popping out of obscurity to self-righteously announce he would not be willing to be Kamala's VP. YEAH ASSHOLE. LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED YOU. NOBODY WHATSOEVER. NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS AT LEAST WE WILL SOON NO LONGER HAVE MANCHIN IN THE SENATE). And yes, Biden made some serious mistakes of his own, because he IS from an older generation and a different style of doing politics/different beliefs that no longer resonate with the younger segments of the electorate. But this old white Catholic guy at the age of almost 80 still managed to be the most progressive president ever, coming in at a moment of incredible domestic and international crisis and getting us safely to the other side, and all cynicism, criticizing, and caveating aside, he deserves an incredible amount of credit for that. I mean that absolutely, and I am very grateful.

As I said, willingly relinquishing that power takes guts, and when Biden saw the writing on the wall that he had to sacrifice himself, he took his time, he didn't jump too early, and he didn't jump too late. On the most basic level, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to make the "both parties are not the same" argument when one is running a (comparatively) young brown woman and the other is still running their loathed felonious old demented orange traitor. Most Americans are not plugged into policy minutiae and details. They look at Biden-Trump, they see two old white guys. When you take one of those old white guys away (who goes in a self-sacrificially heroic manner and in sharp contrast with the coup-happy fascist) and put Kamala Harris in there instead, it generates an obvious jolt. People can see for themselves that there is a real difference that doesn't rely on closely reading news and tracking complex policy, because as noted, most Americans simply don't. The brown first-generation American daughter of brown immigrants is a quantifiably different story from "old white guy career politician," which for better or worse is how Biden was seen, especially the old part. We needed that establishment expertise to beat Trump in 2020; I still think Biden is the only one who could have done it, and as noted, we owe him a great debt for doing so.

However.... 2024 is not 2020, and it is not 2016. There has been this HUGE and unbelievable swing to Kamala because she represents the antithesis of what the last eight years of Trump-induced anger, fear, panic, chaos, and hatred has stirred up. That's why people are so ready to rally around her, just as they were (I daresay) around Obama in 2008, after the exhaustion, chaos, war, and mounting economic misery of Bush. Trump has been out of office for the last four years, but his shadow over the American political landscape has been omnipresent. Now people know that we finally have a real chance at getting rid of him forever, and just as Biden was uniquely positioned to capitalize on that in 2020, so Harris is now. Which is why, however tough it will be, she has a real shot at winning. I can guarantee the Republicans know that, and are shit scared. Because the Black Lady Army of Democracy has indeed arrived in force to Get This Shit Done and I don't know about you, but I found that incalculably comforting:

Yikes! All lined up for Kamala pic.twitter.com/Dt4OCDp7WX

— Alex Cole (@acnewsitics) July 24, 2024

This, at the most basic level, is what scares fascists the most, it's exactly what we need now, and what Harris is uniquely positioned to mobilize, along with her gangbusters appeal to young voters:

This is the energy we need. This is what Biden saw and planned for and which he launched us into, and where all that experience and age paid off. This is why people, even people otherwise disengaged, disillusioned, or checked out of the tedious and mind-numbering drudgery and depression of American politics, are responding to it. Because it's easy to understand, it offers hope, and it tells a very simple story that is nonetheless long overdue:

Thanks so much, Joe. Go absolutely waste that orange fucker, Kamala. We got your back.

[chirpsythismorning]

And at a baseball field...

There are very few references to baseball in Stranger Things, and so looking at these rare moments side by side, I can't help but feel like this comparison happening here is entirely intentional.

The first baseball mention we get is from 1x02, when Jonathan is driving to Lonnie's and has a flashback to a moment with Will. This moment involves Joyce yelling at Lonnie over the phone for not showing up to spend quality time with Will like they planned, post-divorce. Upon them overhearing this, Jonathan comforts Will by questioning if Will even likes baseball, to which Will says no. Jonathan goes on to say that Will shouldn't like things just because other people tell him he's supposed to. And it's this bittersweet moment on the surface, but what's hiding underneath is queer-coding. It's a moment that sort of encourages Will to do the things he likes to do, instead of falling for the trap that so many kids get stuck in because they don't feel like they have a choice other than to do what other people they expect them to (*cough* Mike Wheeler *cough*).

And so these scenes juxtaposed to that sentiment is pretty damn ironic.

1x02

Jonathan: -- He's trying to force you to like normal things. And you shouldn't like things just because people tell you you're supposed to (referring to baseball, but also hinting at Will potentially being queer).

1x03:

Dustin: Do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-Men? Or do you think she acquired them like Green Lantern?

Lucas: She's not a superhero. She's a weirdo.

Mike: What does that matter? The X-Men are weirdos?

Lucas: If you love her so much, why don't you just marry her?

Mike: What are you talking about?

Lucas: Mike seriously?

Mike: What?

Lucas: You look at her like, Hi, El! El! El! El! I love you so much! Would you marry me?

Mike: Shut up, Lucas

Notice how they're talking about El's powers and Mike is attempting to defend El, bc in his eyes she is a superhero and he doesn't see that as a bad thing (Mike is also attempting to defend this concept of being weird, bc what's wrong with that...? right...?). Lucas instantly jumps to perceiving Mike's harmless well-intentioned comment as Mike having romantic feelings for El, even implying Mike's behavior towards her means that he loves her and wants to marry her, to which Mike is pretty confused and denies...

They could have had this scene anywhere, but they chose to have it in front of a baseball field? Back to back with the episode previous including this flasbhack between Jonathan and Will?

Seconds before the homophobic bullies show up...?

they were insane for writing this 1 minute 25 seconds scene. the juxtaposition of lucas insisting mike obviously likes el so much vs troy and james showing up to say homophobic shit about will is insane.

[scruckels]

I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS BECAUSE NOT ENOUGH PEOPLE ARE.

THIS SEXY ASS FISH PINS HIS EARS AGAINST HIS HEAD WHEN HE'S:

ASHAMED

DEFEATED

Tense...? (I'll elaborate at the end)

Probably more tbh

AND LET ME TELL YOU WHY 🗣❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

In this scene, Steb has his ears pinned back. His ears naturally rest pointing outward from his head. In the second scene, it looks like he's holding them back, but if you look closer in the first one, they're actually just resting flat against his head.

I see a lot of people saying that it's probably due to him being sad about Maddie's betrayal, but I feel like that's a little too vague. YES, he's most likely sad that his buddy stabbed him in the back, but I feel like it's more a shame kind of thing.

IN THE GIF BELOW, you'll see what I'm talking about. He looks over at Caitlyn, but after giving her a small glance, he looks back down, seeming to show some kind of shame or defeat. (Maybe even hopelessness?) There doesn't appear to be an out in their situation, and Steb knows that. I suppose he COULD be ashamed that he had trusted Maddie, but I feel like it's mainly just the defeat from the battle.

Ears flat against his head:

Ears usual resting position:

You can see his whole ear in the kneeling scene, and it's clear that he's not touching it. His ears just naturally pin back during some situations.

Not only that, but there are multiple scenes where you can see his ears twich. (I picked scenes from the same episode since it's easier to see here.)

↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑↑

(In these two, you can see both his ear AND scale frills twitch)

↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓

(You gotta look closely for this one) ↑↑↑

But this is where my third bullet point comes in, as well as why I'm kind of iffy on it. During the fight with the shimmer guys, Steb almost gets FUCKING SPLIT IN HALF, but Loris comes in clutch and sheilds Steb.

While Steb is curled up for the impact, he pins his ears against his head, as you can see here.

I feel like him being "Scared" isn't exactly the reason why he pinned his ears against his head. During the whole fighting scene, you can tell he is QUITE terrified, but he didn't have his ears pinned back until the scene above. I feel like it's less terror and more tension. He tensed up and curled on himself due to him expecting impact, causing him to pin his ears back.

STEB NATION, HOW WE FEELING⁉️⁉️⁉️🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🔊🔊🔊🔊🔊🔊🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[snoopyhq]

Jealous viktor + reader 🙏

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ so with my best, my very best, i set you free

(i love laufey 🗣️ her cover of "i wish you love" with the icelandic orchestra? 2:49 of heaven)

type: viktor x reader

summary: headcanons and a drabble of jealous viktor. headcanons are pre-relationship, the drabble is the established relationship ✪ ꨄ︎

word count: 2415

a/n: OMG FIRST ASK I'M SO HONORED I'M SO EXCITED YIPPEE !!! will be working on the others whenever i have the time, but TRUST i am plotting and scheming <3 any other askers, feel free to drop by! i hope i did your request justice, dear anon.

It was unfair to you, and to him, in his most miserable moments of pure self-pity

Viktor envied those who were healthy. He wished he wasn't born with the circumstances he was dealt. He would trade anything to spend one day with a respiratory system that didn't choke him from the inside out every time he took a breath

He was jealous of you, initially, when you first met

You seemed to have it so easy

Easy laughter, easy conversation, easy friends. You had an established life, you were loved, and you held yourself together with such ease that he sometimes wonders how much you're really holding back

He feels bad for assuming you were dealing with awful problems. But it was very likely. I mean, who was truly that... happy? Well off? At ease with themself and their role in the world? He was probably projecting

And then you somehow, by all the miracles a human could possibly be granted, managed to worm your way into his life and secure yourself there too

Viktor vehemently rejected you at first. He was much like a stray cat. You just gotta continuously give them love on their own terms, and often times, it was slow, and that concept applied to Viktor too

It started with small things. Brief greetings where you called him by name

"Good morning, Viktor."

"Nice to see you here today, Viktor."

"Viktor, you have a good night ok? Get home safe."

Including him in conversations. Commentary about how you two just happened to be in the same place at the same time. The library, a cafe, randomly in the middle of a bustling street

You always had that breezy way of acknowledging things. What a nice coincidence. It was all genuine

You were pleased to be surprised by his presence

Wordlessly holding the door for him, even if you really didn't have to wait. But it was never a big deal, so

He pushed it away. Brushed it off, and tried to forget about it, but those little moments kept circling through his mind like an irritating tape he couldn't dislodge from the disc player, and turning the TV off wasn't doing shit when those scenes were basically burned onto the screen

Like the natural progression of the lunar cycle, Viktor found himself unconsciously expecting you in his life

He can't remember a time when you weren't

Your greetings, your little gestures of kindness, that skill of small talk that meant so, so much to him were cherished like an altar of worship

While he was in no way, shape, or form completely opening himself up to befriending any more people, he began to feel much more natural with you and others you gave your time to

Which brought him to his current bit of emotional turbulence

That prickling in his chest whenever he saw you with other people, giving them your precious words and quality time? Yeah, he shouldn't be feeling this

You were allowed to have other friends! You had people in your life before him, and it doesn't mean you consider him any less just because you spent a moment or two with someone else!

He would tighten his grip on his cane, those mantras feverishly chanting in his mind as he walked in circles, attempting to reign his emotions into a more rational state

He had no right to feel jealous like this, but he couldn't help it

Jayce was his only real companion before, and now that he was a council member, he had less time for Viktor. He had the city to nurture and shape, a big responsibility. The loneliness of the lab was barely a noticeable shift from before

Now, you arrived as if by careless chance, giving him another glimpse, another hit of company, and it was maddeningly cruel to have those doses be in such short time frames

He was given what he needed and wanted, but never fully

Accepting that reality was going to be harder than accepting you truly wishing to be around him, in all his sardonic glory, his blunt nature that had most other people walking away. Just not you

To grapple with this selfish desire was humiliating

He was fully aware of how innately human it all was. If only it were easier. Someday.

For now, he would wait and bask in all the attention and friendship you offered him so willingly

You stood in front of your mirror, going over your carefully put together look one last time. You wanted to look good, and having the outfit fall into place like how you planned it in your head always gave you an extra boost of happiness before you left the house. Straightening the collar of your top one last time, you were finally satisfied.

Viktor was waiting for you in the living room. He stood up when you finally appeared, greeting you with a kiss to your cheek and a murmured "You look enchanting, as always."

You laughed and hugged him.

"And you're dashing, as per usual."

With your arm linked through his, the two of you went on your way. He had planned the date tonight. The winding route led to the sparkling, five-tiered fountain that marked the center of the shopping fair. The flowing water sparkled and danced beneath the fairy lights strung through the evergreens surrounding the space, and orchestral music floated up from where the quintet performed.

You two often went here after a long, stressful week, dining at one of the outdoor tables and idly chatting before hitting a couple stores. Most of the time, it would be the bookshop, the local woodcarver, and then the bakery. You had made it a tradition to buy one another a sweet treat, and it was always a delight to see if your guesses of enjoyment would be met or not.

There was certainly not a lack of other people around you, many of whom were also hand in hand. The center was a popular spot for local students and couples to unwind and spend time together.

When you both had your fill of sights and perusing your respective comforts, you made your way back to the fountain. The musicians had struck up a lively waltz, and many were dancing along now. Both of you shared a look, and moved to join in, albeit towards the edge of the crowds.

Dancing with Viktor was one of your favorite activities. He moved with such assuredness and care for your space, making him all the more captivating in his graces. The respectful placement of his hand on your waist, never going too far and risking your discomfort in public, and never straying away lest he appeared bored, Viktor made sure you were his priority.

After the song concluded, you spun Viktor around slowly to the rhythm of the music drawing to a close, dipping him into a kiss during the final note.

His cheeks were slightly flushed, both from the exertion and from your affection.

"I'm going to grab a drink. We can head home after, if you'd like," you told him, head leaning on his shoulder as he walked with you back up the steps.

"That's perfectly fine. I can hold your bag while you do that."

Oh, Viktor. Ever the gentleman.

You went inside the establishment, and ordered yourself a shirley temple with sweet cream, fully planning to share with him. You knew he had a penchant for the more saccharine in terms of taste. While you waited to order, another patron joined you after placing their order.

"Busy place tonight, isn't it?" they commented.

You turned your attention to them, surprised a stranger was making conversation with you, but you didn't mind. All harmless small talk, after all. You would be leaving soon anyways when your order was finished, so why not pass the time with pleasantries?

"It's one of the most popular cafes around here," you replied. "Friday nights always means live music, so people love to flock here. I should know. I frequent here often." you finished with a smile, and received one in return.

They continued engaging you in conversation, and you soon realized it was taking a bit for your drink. A shirley temple wasn't complicated, and you were worried something was wrong. Maybe they were short-staffed tonight? Did an accident occur in the back?

"Are you worried about your drink?"

"No, not really. More so the workers here," you were honest. Some of them were fellow students you see at the academy, and others knew you as a regular, and you had grown quite fond of the staff as they were of you.

"That's a surprise. You're very sweet."

Their order quickly arrived, and they bid you farewell before departing into the night. You walked up to the counter, asking if everyone was ok. The barista reassured you, saying it was only going to take a little while, and that everything is alright now. Relieved, you went back to your perch.

Outside, Viktor was waiting anxiously. This was taking a lot longer than he had anticipated.

When someone emerged from the cafe, he was tempted to get up and ask them if they'd seen you in there.

Yes, my partner. About this tall, very beautiful eyes, a smile you can't miss. Have you seen...?

God. He was contemplating approaching a stranger just to inquire about you. Luckily (or was it?) for him, they must've sensed him sneaking glances at the cafe and at them, because they approached him cheerily.

"You look a little lost. Need some help?" they asked.

"Oh, it's alright. I'm just waiting for someone."

At that, they perked up.

"It wouldn't happen to be someone wearing the same colored blouse as your vest would it?"

Yes. It was. He confirmed it.

"That's perfect actually! I was just talking to them, and since you know them, do you think they would be interested in exchanging contact information with me? They were quite lovely company, and I wouldn't mind getting to know them better."

Viktor could feel his heart drop and the temperature in his soul rise several degrees. What was going on? Where were you? What had happened in those minutes that you were gone?

"I will... ask them," he attempted to keep his tone even. "Mind giving me your contact information to pass along?"

The stranger happily handed Viktor a piece of paper, their messy scrawl sending a sting of irritation through him. That penmanship was not worthy of you, and would certainly not compare to the intricate scripting of his own handwritten notes and letters to you.

When you finally rejoined him, you could tell immediately something was off. You questioned him about it, and he huffed, telling you not to worry about it as you walked home. He didn't even pay any mind to the bag that hung on your arm, too caught up in his insecurities and worries.

That stranger was so much like you. So approachable. Good conversationalist. He couldn't help but imagine a scenario of you two getting along a little too well, and that made something deep inside him hurt. Clearly, he wasn't as good as keeping his thoughts off his face as he believed, or you had simply gotten better at understanding him, because you promptly asked him again.

"Come on, Viktor. Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

"If you knew the full extent of what I'm thinking of, you wouldn't be so quick to call my mind beautiful," he grumbled tersely.

"You can't judge my reaction for me. Spill."

He bit the inside of his cheek. Finally, he confessed. It felt like ripping out stitches from his tongue.

"... someone at the coffee shop. They asked me if I knew you, and then asked if you would be interested in their contact information."

At that, you raised an incredulous eyebrow. Ah. You were blissfully oblivious of the jarring events.

"Viktor, I promise nothing is wrong. We were both waiting for our drinks, and they happened to be making small talk with me. That's all. I love you with my whole heart, and no one else can ever--will not ever--compare."

His heart fluttered. He knew that was the realistic truth, but it was nice to hear reassurance from you anyways.

"You mean it?" he asked.

"I mean it," you said sincerely.

Setting your bags and drink on the nearby bench, you swept him into your arms and twirled him around beneath the streetlight's warm glow.

"I love you," you declared, hands holding his face tightly. Your thumb brushed against the beauty mark above his lip. "And if you ever need reminders of that, you tell me immediately. I will literally drop everything and make sure your doubt disappears completely for as long as I can hold it back."

He gazed into your eyes, his own now slightly misted. Their glossiness reflected warmth and adoration as he took in your face. Seeing the conviction there did something to him. He didn't know what, but he found himself giving in to the urge to just close the distance and kiss you right then and there, open street be damned.

It began to snow. He only realized when he parted from you, the taste of your chapstick still lingering. He looked up, watching the delicate flakes be illuminated by the warm, golden glow. If there was a visualization for the love he felt, it would be that he decided. It all just built and built from all the little things, and filled him with such life it almost hurt.

"We should go home," he whispered, looking back at you.

"Oh yeah, we should. I was going to tell you!" you gasped, running back for your drink and the bag. "They gave me extra cakes and rolls. The last ones of the specialty desserts before their next seasonal delights, so we can share them." you beamed.

"Really? That's quite generous of them."

He wasn't surprised. You were just so damn lovable. He would give you all the baked goods you desired and more, if only for another smile from you directed at him. His fingers intertwined with yours, fondness consuming him as you chatted about the different flavors of the desserts, which ones you were most excited about, and which ones you think he'd like.

He had to agree with your assessments. A dark chocolate and orange mousse did sound quite appealing for him. He already knew he'd let you have the last bite, regardless.

"Oh, and Viktor?"

"Hmm?"

"You can throw away the contact. I don't need it."

I already have you.

[lilithslittleworld]

New To This

A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!

I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)

(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).

Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...

The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.

Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," Jacob huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.

Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.

"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.

The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.

"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"

"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."

You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...

"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"

And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.

Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.

Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.

"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"

You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.

Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.

"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.

"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.

It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.

Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.

"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.

"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."

Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.

"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.

"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.

Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.

Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.

How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.

"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.

"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.

Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.

You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.

Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.

"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.

Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."

Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.

The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.

Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.

"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.

"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.

"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.

Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."

It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.

"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."

Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.

A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.

"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."

Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.

You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.

"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.

Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.

The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.

You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.

You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.

Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.

Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.

You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.

After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.

You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.

"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"

"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.

"I want you to," was all you said.

Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.

His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.

"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.

"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.

"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.

Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.

"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."

"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."

Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.

"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.

"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.

You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.

"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.

"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.

"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."

Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.

"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.

"So," you began, "you love me?"

Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."

You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."

"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."

"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."

"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."

"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.

"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."

"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"

Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."

-----------

A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[thepitlanepress]

I DON'T LIKE IT –

↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)

usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.

so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.

"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.

"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.

you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.

"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"

"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"

"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.

"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."

you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.

"you can pull off me?"

"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."

"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.

"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"

"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.

–––

he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.

he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.

when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.

"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.

"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.

you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"

"i don't like it."

"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.

"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.

"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.

and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.

"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."

his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.

"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."

"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."

"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.

its happened so many times before.

your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.

but tonight this feels different.

"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."

"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."

"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."

"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.

"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."

"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."

"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."

you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,

so you take the leap.

pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."

you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.

if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.

2024 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

[deoidesign]

How I save time on backgrounds as a full-time webcomic artist

Hi! I make webcomics for a living, and I have to be able to draw a panel extremely fast to keep up with my deadlines. I draw about 50 panels a week, which gives me about 45 minutes per panel if I want any semblance of a healthy work-life balance.

Most webtoon artists save time on backgrounds by using 3d models, which works for them and is great! but personally I hate working in 3d... I went to school for it for a year and hated it so much I completely changed career paths and vowed never to do it again! So, this is how I save time without using any 3d, for those of you out there who don't like it either!

This tactic has also saved me money (3d models are expensive) and it has helped me converting my comic from scroll format into page format for print, because I have much more art to work with than what's actually in the panels. (I'll touch on this later)

So, first, I make my backgrounds huge. my default starting size is 10,000 x 10,000 pixels. My panels are 2,500 pixels wide, so my backgrounds are 4x that, minimum. Because of this, I make them less detailed than I could or that you might expect so it doesn't look weird against my character art when I shrink portions of it down.

I personally find it much easier to add in detail than to make "removing" details look natural at smaller sizes, but you might have different preferences than I do.

I also make sure to keep all of my elements on separate layers so that I can easily remove or replace them, I can move them to simulate different camera angles more easily, and it's simple to adjust the lighting to imply different times of day.

Then I can go ahead and copy/paste them into my episodes. I move the background around until it feels like it's properly fitting how I want.

Once I've done that in every panel, I'll go back through the episode and clean up anything that looks weird, and add in solid blacks (for my art style) Here's a quick before and after of what that looks like!

This makes 90% of my backgrounds take me just a few hours. This is my tactic when I'm working in an environment that an entire scene, or multiple scenes, will take place.

But many panels will inevitably have a location that's used exactly once, and it would waste time and effort to draw a massive background for those. So in 10% of cases, I just draw the single panel background in the episode. I save all of these, just in case I can re-use it later (this happens more often with outdoor locations, but I save them all nonetheless!)

I generally have to draw about 2 big backgrounds per episode, and 3-5 single-panel backgrounds per episode! At the beginning of an arc/book the number is higher, but as the series is continuing and I'm building up an asset library of indoor and outdoor elements to re-use for the book, the number generally goes down and I save more time.

My series involves time travel and mysteries, so there's a lot of new locations in it and we're constantly moving around. If I were working on a series that was more consistent in this aspect, this process would save me even more time!

Like I said earlier, this also saves me a lot of pain and gives me a lot more options as I'm converting from scroll format to print format!

panels that look like this in scroll format...

can look like this in print!

because I drew the background like this, so I didn't need to go through the additional effort to add in the extra detail to expand it outwards at all.

Anyways, I hope this helps someone! As always if it doesn't help, just go ahead and disregard. This is what I do and what works for me, and I feel like I only ever see time-saving tips for comics that involve 3d models and workflows, which don't work for me at all! I know there's more people like me out there, so this is for you!

Enjoy!

Also obligatory "my webcomic" if you want to see this in action or check it out!

[gyaruhana]

Omg can we get some more player 120 (Cho Hyun-ju) sfw n nsfw headcanons where shes protective n dominant? Pls n thank uu I loved ur last work w her🩷

Cho Hyun-ju/Player 120 - Headcannons (sfw + nsfw)

Synopsis: more Hyun-ju headcannons !

A/N: ask and i shall serve !!

Warnings: smut content

SFW:

➠ i'm immediately jumping into the scene in the last episode where she was locked in bc holy moly she was so hot.. ➠ wouldn't let you go with her unless you were well-trained with a gun and able to handle it ➠ even then she's always keeping you close behind her ➠ When she's not shooting at the guards, she's looking at you to make sure you're doing okay ➠ if you run out of ammo, she doesn't hesitate to give you one of her magazines ➠ If you end up panicking she's immediately there to distract you from the gunshots and reassuring you that everything is fine and you'll both be okay ➠ and you both will be because she refuses to die or to let you die ➠ not when you both had already made plans for Thailand after you get out of here ➠ On a lighter note !! ➠ most doting girl ever ➠ does give you some of her food sometimes if you're feeling hungry ➠ If someone insults you, she's instantly at your side to defend you ➠ she HATES people thinking they can treat you badly ➠ do play with her hair she loves it sm ➠ expect her to hold your hand a lot because she's not afraid of PDA ➠ late night talks after lights out which sometimes just turns into staring into each others eyes ➠ so many quiet "I love you"'s whispered during those talks too ➠ likes when you cup her face in your hands honestly ➠ you guys are always talking about WHEN you make it out of this place and never if ➠ so so many plans for Thailand ➠ After the death of Young-mi, she definitely needed your comfort and got so much more protective of you ➠ if you go to the bathrooms, she's right there behind you ➠ you're basically never alone during the games ➠ Absolutely fights for you ➠ Overall, so protective of you and not afraid to put someone in their place if they disrespect you

"I have a few nice places to live in Thailand saved on my phone. I can show you them when we get out," you speak from your bed as you turn to face her. She smiles slightly at your words and nods her head. You both had been planning for Thailand since forever and now the dream seemed so much closer with the money you could take home. Even if some people died, neither of you would be next. Not as long as you were there to protect each other and survive this hellish place together. "I'd like that,"

NSFW:

➠ Again, she's gentle. ➠ not a big fan of having public sex so she often takes you to the bathroom with her if you guys are in the mood ➠ most skillfull pussy eater icl ➠ she knows exactly how to make you feel good ➠ gentle and meaningful kisses that convey so much love ➠ she's just a gentle cutie ➠ always whispering praises to you ➠ baby, my girl, sweetheart - literally every sweet pet name in the book ➠ refuses to be rough with you because she wants to help you relax and be calm from the stress of the games and the death ➠ always kisses you after making you cum on her fingers ➠ which happens quite quickly honestly.. ➠ she's just a little too good at fingering you.. ➠ she's practically memorized every part of you though that's why ➠ encourages volume and expressing how you feel ➠ she bases her pace on your facial expressions because she's ridiculously observant ➠ Overall, gentle girlfriend who knows how to please you<3

"You're close, yeah?" She says quietly as she looks up at you, her fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you quickly. The two of you didn't have a lot of time as the guard waiting just outside the bathroom likely wouldn't let you stay for long. That's why she was so quick with her fingers. The last thing she'd want is for you to be left without a release. "Go ahead. Cum on my fingers, my love,"

[wildfairies]

things that are bothering me the most:

antaam stuff makes no sense, full stop. it's also explained poorly/insufficiently.

most of what we see of rivain is completely uninhabited. i also don't care about more warden shit there, i was looking forward to more lore on rivaini people and culture, especially the seers obviously, we've been dying to know more about them for three games.

every elf we've met is ok with the huge revelations that their gods aren't what they seemed and this process happened offscreen. i would think there would be many different reactions to the spread of info about the evanuris, and i would think it would be extremely important to make it clear that info had spread pre-game.

the venatori are the same nonsensical vague useless boring cult with the most nothing goals. as incredibly lame as they are, it's even stretching my suspension of disbelief that they'd serve elven gods for vague promises of 'power' given tevinter's extreme history with the elves. i would think this would come up at least one single time.

the past two points are part of an overarching issue. the contentious and complex political landscape of thedas that makes the setting interesting feels flat. i'm supposed to believe NO ONE in super-elf-racist tevinter would blame the elves for their gods terrorizing thedas? even inquisition acknowledged this, w solas/inky showing concern that revealing the orb was elven would lead to elf racism.

i'm supposed to believe NO elves who've been oppressed by humans for centuries would think 'fuck them' and join up? what happened to the elves who joined solas at the end of trespasser when they heard he was trying to bring back their empire? at least inquisition had wacky cults for every side.

walking down the street in minrathous as an elf or qunari with no difference is simply absurd, i would literally rather never visit tevinter if they were going to implement it so toothlessly. where is the immediate opinion hit for being a mage/elf the inky takes in orlais???

yes the tone is off and a little shallow. yes the companions communicate too healthily for my tastes. yes i was dreading 'evanuris are behind everything' lore reveals and that's what we got. but i honestly think i could overlook those things if the above problems were solved and it felt like the same immersive, problematic thedas.

i'm so completely infuriated by the worldstate choices i'm going to make a separate post about it. but yeah i was concerned but made no noise, i was willing to wait it out and see how the three choices played out in game. and it's absolutely ridiculous that so far two out of fucking three have basically no impact, and the last one idgaf about unless inky romanced solas. i'm so so so so mad and disappointed about this, especially after staying open-minded when it was initially revealed.

everyone loves companion quests, so i don't know why the game feels like it needs to sell you on their significance. why did we get two different scenes of varric spelling it out to rook: do the companion side quests, or else they won't be able to focus! it's such a weird and superfluous tie-in. i don't get why they went so out of their way to clarify this when it didn't need to be clarified, companion side quests are expected in rpgs and their relevance to the plot is very easily accepted/overlooked.