#I really liked all the female characters which is unusual for me when it comes to anime!

[alangdorf]

いつかきっと全部手に入れる、私はそう欲張りなアイドル！

On the subject of silly little experiments, here’s another one! I still struggle with foreshortening and painting so I don’t think this turned out perfectly, but it gets across what I was going for. I don’t watch tv very often anymore but I ended up watching Oshi no Ko because I got super obsessed with Idol and the plot intrigued me, and aside from one major caveat I actually really enjoyed it! Hoshino Ai, you’re a real one ＊

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A quiet neighborhood - Chapter 1

Pairing: Neighbor!Dave York x f!reader Words count: 5137 Rating: + 18, MDNI

Series Summary: In a quiet neighborhood where nothing exciting ever happens, your neighbor Dave is definitely a guy who catches your eye. What could he be hiding under his perfect exterior?

Chapter 1: We start to enter this neighborhood and the trouble begins 👀

Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush. smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, some reader's thoughts marked in italics and I think it's all for now. A/N: Here we are! I'm so nervous to post the first chapter of this story! I take it for granted now but: English is not my first language, I tried to proofread as best as I could so I hope there aren't too many mistakes. I don't have a beta, so it's all my fault, sorry. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist, thanks to anyone who reads, I really hope you like it 🥹

And of course let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are so much appreciated and they literally keep me going and try even harder! If you want to give me some advice, go ahead! ♥️

AQN - Masterlist

Your neighborhood is a quiet place. 

 White picket fences, well-kept gardens, plenty of block parties to attend, everyone knows each other and nothing ever happens. 

As a child, when you stayed at your grandmother's house who lived here, you didn't have the exact perception of how unusual and picturesque it was, like something out of a postcard.

It just made you feel safe and there were lots of kids to play with, so it was always that special place you hoped to live when you grew up. You lived a short distance away, with your parents, your grandmother would often pick you up after school and you would stay at her house until your parents got off work. You could say that you spent more time here than you did in your actual home. So when your grandmother died and left you this house, it was a natural choice for you to move here.

If you were asked who your most peculiar neighbor is, you would definitely answer Dave York. He is unlike any of the other men who live near you, messy, careless, jovial and chatty, peaceful men who are friendly with everyone. Dave is not like that, he is rather mysterious and reserved, to begin with. He is very affectionate and present with his daughters, of course, nice with his wife, but with strangers he limits himself to a politeness of circumstance, he speaks only as much as necessary, you have never understood whether it is due to shyness or a general aversion to people.

Dave is composed, precise, neat almost in a manic way in his appearance. 

He’s been living here for while, he moved here with his family a couple of years after you, and yet you've never figured out precisely what his job is, he told everyone he was a CEO for a company and no one felt compelled to investigate further, the neighborhood gossip preferred to focus on other, more juicy topics and so it remained a vague piece of information, which no one cares about. It certainly allows him to earn a lot of money considering the standard of living he leads.

It always takes you a while to wake up in the morning and you love to spend a few minutes on the porch sipping your coffee, you love that quiet moment before a hubbub of children being dropped off at school, cars pulling out of the driveway, the neighborhood waking up and getting back to life. Dave gets out particularly early so he ended up becoming part of your morning routine.

He doesn't even see you as he rushes out to go to work and you like it that way. 

He walks out of his perfect house, with a perfect garden, gets into his perfect car with his briefcase, perfectly shaved, combed, shirt and pants perfectly pressed, understated and elegant tie, shiny shoes on which not a speck of dust ever seems to have settled. You've always wondered what's underneath. 

He lives right across the street from you, so you can often see him from your window and you linger to look at him more than you'd like to admit.

You see him out early Sunday morning for a run, black sweatpants and white T-shirt, then mowing the lawn with his T-shirt slightly sweaty from running and his hair a little disheveled. 

At lunchtime you catch a glimpse of him sitting at the table in the living room, located in front of a large window with his family as Carol serves the Sunday meal. She, too, is similar in some ways. She is refined, never vulgar, has a lovely tone of voice, she’s kind and friendly to everyone, and bakes crazy desserts. She once brought you muffins to thank you for lending her a package of sugar she had forgotten to buy and they were the best you had ever tasted. And his daughters? Polite, respectful, always adorably dressed, little princesses of manners. But it is he, above all, who arouses your interest. He draws you inexplicably, for as long as you have lived here there has always been in you curiosity to find out if he has some flaw, if there is something that stirs him inside. 

And then, of course, he’s incredibly handsome, probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The first time you saw them at a block party you immediately noticed him, he stood out from all the others men. Black hair, aquiline nose, deep brown piercing eyes, plushy lips, broad shoulders, narrow waist, he wore a suit without looking either old-fashioned or snobbish, just gorgeous. You welcomed him, Carol and their kids to the neighborhood and then went back to your friends to sip margaritas and gossip. You couldn't take your eyes off him though; he was like a magnet that kept attracting your gaze.

There's nothing wrong with admiring someone from afar, is there? you tell yourself when you feel your cheeks warming up for him.

You always liked his confident but never cocky demeanor, his gestures are always measured and graceful, at parties when he talks to someone and is next to his wife he holds an arm around her waist never conveying a sense of possession but rather of protection and care. It bugs you to admit that this is exactly what you would like too.

_________________________

This morning you had to wake up earlier than usual, your boss called a meeting through an email you never wanted to receive, usually when he does it is to complain about something, which makes you want to stay in bed and call in sick. No time for Davewatching, you can't if you care about keeping your job and continuing to live in this nice neighborhood across the street from him.

You jumped into the shower grumbling, washing your hair in a hurry because you were obviously already late, and when you got out of the shower you discovered that your hair dryer was no longer working. Certainly not the best way to start the day. You cursed, fumbling in the bathroom cabinet drawer looking for a hair tie, tied your hair up in a high topknot, and sighed as you looked in the mirror to the image of a messed up you.

You couldn't do much about it, so you thought you'd put on your favorite office outfit to make yourself feel better, a dark gray skirt and jacket that you bought about a year ago. Money well spent, this suit hugs all the right spots on your body, making you feel elegant and professional, with a hint of sexiness. You feel confident. You pull it out of the closet and lay it on the bed, then look for a pair of tights to match. You rummage through your drawer and pull out at least five pairs, realizing they are all laddered. How on earth is that possible? Nothing is going right this morning. You huff, forcing yourself to wear hold-ups. Not your favorite thing to wear to work, they are certainly sexy but sitting 8 hours at your desk with silicone squeezing your thigh? No thanks. Yet this morning you have no choice.

You gather up your papers and stuff them into your bag, grab a cup of coffee adding a little milk foam that you quickly froth with a small electric milk frother, you drink it right away almost burning your tongue and then step out into your driveway heading for your car practically running, the heels you've been wearing clicking noisily on the pavement. 

You get into the car and start it, or at least try to, because it won't work. You bring a hand to your eyebrows, cursing again “Oh fuck! You gotta be kidding me!”. Your boss will have your head served on a silver platter this morning.

You get out and open the hood, to your lay eyes there seems to be nothing wrong, no smoke or other visible signs, so you think it's the battery.

You curse and get back in the car, searching your bag for your phone, your nerves are on edge when you hear light tapping on the window. You jump in your seat in fright, and when you turn around you see Dave on the other side. Great, you think. Just the situation I was hoping he'd see me in, stressed, messy, basically on the verge of tears.

You roll down the window and he asks: “You need help?” 

“Oh don't worry, I don't want to bother you, I can manage on my own,” you stammer, trying to pull yourself together. 

“The car won't start?” his voice is quite reassuring, aloof as it is.

“Yes but really, no problem, I'll call a uber.”

“Don’t be silly, let me give you a ride” you hear an amused undertone now, maybe because of your ridiculous face, you feel so inadequate and stupid in front of him, surely he thinks you're a train wreck and wants to do charity work by rescuing you as an abandoned kitten on the street corner.

You look down and see the lace of your stockings peeking out from the hem of your skirt that had ridden up too high when you sat in the car. You hastily pull down your skirt, wondering in a panic if he had noticed it too.

Your gaze reluctantly returns to him, feeling your cheeks heat up, and he seems unperturbed as he repeats, “Come on, if we don’t hurry we’ll both end up late.”

“Okay...” you whisper "well..thanks"

You get out of your car, finishing to adjust your skirt taking advantage of the fact that he has his back to you, as you awkwardly follow him across the street.

You get into his shiny expensive car almost in awe, smelling his car freshener, obviously something fancy because he’s too sophisticated to settle for something you can find at the drugstore for $2. 

It’s as clean as if it had never been used, the leather seat welcomes you, there is not a crumb or anything, this man has two little daughters and his car is immaculate.

You’ve never sat so stiff in your life, clutching your bag to your chest as if it would contaminate the car’s floor mat if you dared to put it down. 

He looks at you and urges “Seatbelt, please” and you hurry up to reply awkwardly “Oh. Yes. Of course.” and you see something shine in his eyes, a suppressed laugh, a tiny crack that disappears immediately.

You resign yourself to lay the bag at your feet and put the seat belt on, pulling it slowly, almost reverently, you feel his gaze on you and you are afraid of making another fool of yourself.

He starts the car and drives off, as you drive away from your neighborhood you try to calm down and regain control of yourself. He's just giving you a ride; there's no reason to be so jittery.

You give him directions to your office, trying to disguise your excitement as much as possible; usually you can get along just fine with anyone, but today you feel like a schoolgirl on her first experience.

You watch his profile surreptitiously as you tell him to turn right, and then left, lingering on his sculpted cheekbone, his long eyelashes, his perfectly drawn lips.

He’s so incredibly attractive your eyes almost can’t take it and so well dressed as usual, in a dark blue suit, light blue shirt and a burgundy tie with dark blue dots. 

You are almost there and a little bit sorry, you didn't feel like going to work already but now you want to sit in this car next to him until the end of the day.

When he asks you which building your office is, it takes you a few seconds too long to answer, “Oh, this one, on the right.” because you're so enthralled admiring his confidence behind the wheel.

Not only can he drive in gears, but his driving is safe, without wavering, and when he parks in front of your office you notice how he maneuvers with his open hand on the steering wheel. Sexy. You are impressed. You wonder if there is anything this man can't do.

You turn to him and whisper a thank you in a breathy voice. He looks at you and you feel his gorgeous brown eyes penetrate all the way into your soul as he replies, “Happy to help. Do you have someone who can drive you back?“

”Yes, thank you, I'll ask my coworker,” you lie, knowing that you will almost certainly have to take a bus or cab, but you don't want to give him any more trouble. 

“Okay, well, have a good day” 

“Thanks, you too”

Oh wait, there’s something…” he says, reaching your face with his hand and brushing dangerously close to your mouth with his thumb “here” He licks the tip of his finger and looks at you with his usual unflappable expression as you realize you have ridden in his car with milk foam at the corner of your mouth “you’re good now” he whispers and you would like to sink into the seat and disappear forever.

You get out of the car and walk toward the office entrance, feeling his eyes on your back, when you reach the door you turn and wave to him. He is still there, pulling up to the curb, and he gestures back to you. His car speeds away into city traffic a second later.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself before pushing open the door to your office and entering. 

_________________________

“Hey” you hear coming from above you as you are pulling with all your might at a plant that you don't even know where it came from and that is infesting your cyclamen flower bed. You look up and Dave is standing in front of you in your front garden, wearing the usual white T-shirt and black sweatpants he wears every Sunday for jogging. “Oh. Hi,” you say, passing the back of your hand over your forehead and then shielding your eyes from the sun to see him better. 

“So did you solve the car?” 

“Yes, thank you so much for your help” that feeling of being back in middle school when you had a crush on your classmate Josh comes alive again inside you. 

“Good. Was it the battery?” 

”That's right. I had to change it. 300 bucks! Fuck, I'll be damned.” You blather on without thinking that maybe you're not so close to each other to let yourself swear in front of him. 

Dave chuckles, even his laugh is polite and discreet but you can see a cheeky little light in his eyes along with a lovely dimple on his cheek that makes your face heated up.

"I know, they're expensive”

“Yeah, but what else could I do, I don't understand anything about cars, I’m better with plants” you chuckle trying to contain your nervousness.

“They are very beautiful,” he notes, moving his gaze from you to the cyclamens and then back to you, staring. He seems to want to say something more, his lips are half open out held, like everything about him.

“Thank you” There is a lull where you don't know what to say or what to do because he keeps looking at you with his big brown eyes that make you melt and then you ask the first thing that comes to mind "Um, are you and Carol coming to the Horowitz party next week?"

“I think so, she told me about it the other night. Will you be there?” you could almost tell you hear a hopeful tone in his voice, but you're brought back down to earth in an instant by your own inner voice. 

Stop doing this, he’s married you idiot. 

“Yes, of course.” you nod, smiling. 

He smiles back at you, “Well, I have to go now I'm glad you worked it out. If you need anything else however you can find me across the street.” 

You watch him walk away toward his home as you feel that something, at least in a very slight part, has changed between you. He is warmer, friendlier, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you enter the house to wash your hands. You feel like floating and when you look in the bathroom mirror you see it.

The most gigantic of smiles spread across your face, your eyes twinkling.

You are beyond redemption, a complete mess.

_________________________

“Carol loves that brand”

You are at the mall, standing in front of a storefront window that is too expensive for your pocket, gazing at a pair of black leather pumps.  You turn around and see him. Dazzling in a black turtleneck and gray pants, black belt and leather lace-ups, he looks like something out of a fashion magazine. You would almost find him irritating if it weren't for the fact that by now you have to admit to yourself, you have a terrible crush on him. 

Molly and Alice greet you with a smile echoing their father “yes, that's right, mommy loves them”

You smile at the girls “I can imagine. Your mom dresses so well, doesn't she?”  And they look at you proudly nodding “she does” 

“I want to be like her when I grow up” Alice adds in her little bird voice. 

“Oh that's so sweet, I'm sure your mom will be very proud, of both of you. ” you tell her gently. 

Dave is silent and smiles softly, watching his little princesses behave with you. “Well, we've gotta go, we're going to be late for the movie” he says right back, looking a little embarrassed but as usual you think your imagination is really flying awkwardly by now. 

“Oh, what are you going to see?” you ask, always looking at the girls to trick your mind. You don't have to think about him, he's a married man, what's wrong with you. 

“Daddy's taking us to see The Little Mermaid!” Molly announces to you with her eyes shining ‘that's my favorite!’ 

“The multiplex at this mall shows old animated movies in one of their theaters on Sunday afternoons,” Dave explains ”the girls love going there.”

"Oh wonderful!" you reply "well, have fun then"

They're about to leave when Dave turns around and tells you "you should buy them anyway" You stand for a moment interjected "the shoes, I mean. They would look good on you”.

You stand dumbfounded, feeling that tingle spread through your lower abdomen again. You don't reply, but you watch them walk off into the crowd, Molly and Alice each to one side of their dad shaking his hand, Dave in the center with his beautiful hair, his broad shoulders highlighted by his sweater, a delicious butt swaddled beautifully in his gray pants, as soon as they disappear around the corner you go into the store and buy shoes. Even if they are too expensive and if your credit card could talk it would ask you if you are completely crazy. This is the measure of how screwed you are. You can't wait to wear them to the Horowitz party. 

——————————

The Horowitz house is one of the most luxurious in the neighborhood; high ceilings, marble floors, expensive furniture all over the place, chandeliers and silverware, these people are filthy rich. You used to tutor their daughter, Gretchen, a snooty little princess who grew up in bamboozlement and thought she could boss you around. Somehow you managed to win her over eventually, and since you seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood who could tame her the right way, her parents paid you good money.

At the time you had just graduated and were trying to find a job so that money came in handy. 

You say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz and jump into the fray, it's packed everywhere, and your neighbors certainly aren't begging to take advantage of the lavish buffet served poolside.

You see Gretchen in the corner flirting with a waiter and smile, shaking your head, she’s only 18 and already so flirty and cheeky with boys, at her age you just felt like an awkward and inexperienced potato with no sense of fashion and no idea how to talk with boys, you're thankful that adolescence is long over for you. Two of your neighbors, Jane and Gabrielle, are gossiping about Edie's skimpy dress and the new boyfriend she brought to the party after divorcing her husband just two months ago. They wave at you and you sit with them on poolside loungers, they’re some of your dearest friends in the neighborhood. 

“Where are Rafael and Carlos?” you ask, looking for their husbands.

Gabrielle waves her hand and says, “over there talking football with Hank.”

You’re the only one of your friends left single, after breaking up with Jesse two years ago, you decided to focus on your career. You got a promotion last year, but still no husband in sight.

You suggest to go to the bar to have a drink and they both agree. 

There is soft music wafting around, classical, very elegant like the overall tone of the party. It looks more like a wedding reception than a block party, but you know that if the Horowitz don't make it big they're not happy. You approach the bar, a nice drink will solve your nervousness as you try not to stumble and end up in the pool because of your brand new high heels, clinging to Jane’s arm.

Of course she laughs at you “honey, those shoes are gorgeous but don’t you think they’re a bit impractical for a pool party?” 

“Hey! You were the one who told me I needed to freshen up my wardrobe and wear heels more often!” You reprimand as Jane and Gabi laugh.

You've been waiting to wear them at this party all week, even doing some tests at home to make sure they don't give you blisters. 

They're the highest heels you've ever owned and yes, they’re not comfortable, especially to walk on the grass and around a slippery surface like the poolside but tonight when you looked at yourself, swaddled in a little black dress and these shoes, you've never looked so pretty. Your bank account has been severely undermined but you think it was worth it. And even though it would be lo the last thing you should want, you can't wait for him to see you.

You put on your favorite underwear underneath,  just to have that extra boost of confidence. 

You feel good, just as good as you have felt in months, and all it took was for him to notice you. You should probably feel ridiculous, but because he took away the apathy you've been feeling lately, you decide you won't. Not this time. And when you see him walk into the garden, black slacks and white shirt, no tie, the last two buttons left open, he is breathtakingly handsome.

The only thing that matters is the instant when his eyes meet yours, and they are not cold and distant, but it is as if they are smiling, sparkling with a light you have never seen in them before. 

You've kept your wild fantasy at bay until now, but you're sure that in the midst of all these people he's been watching you. 

You feel proud and beautiful until you see her.

Of course Carol is by his side, holding his arm and smiling radiantly in her cream cocktail dress.

And suddenly it all comes crashing down on you, how could you not consider that she would be here, with him, his rightful wife. She wouldn't have been missed. Yet you were so busy trying to look the best you could that you buried her in the corner of your mind, just totally ignored her until this moment. You grab the martini you ordered and down it in one gulp. 

“Hey! Take it easy, honey!” Jane says to you, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?” 

She’s never seen you drink like that, you’ve never actually drunk like that, maybe just after Jesse left you, but it didn’t last long anyway. You shrug and smile at her. “Oh come on, it’s a party! And I don’t have to drive.”

Rafael and Carlos come over to greet you and you're left alone for a moment while the four of them go to inspect the buffet.

You try to distract yourself engaging old Mrs Threadgoode in a conversation you don't care about about the hedge bordering your houses, but out of the corner of your eye you see them approaching, her always at his side, as they make the rounds of greetings. You even try to blend taking the old lady by the arm and continuing to babble as you move behind a huge vase next to the appetizer table, hoping they won't notice you until you hear Carol's pretty voice behind you. You turn around, thinking you are doomed, as if she can read your thoughts, but there is absolutely nothing in her gaze but courtesy and grace, as usual.

It makes you even more nervous that her husband has been your constant thought for two weeks and she does not suspect in the least. 

You greet her, trying to swallow your senseless resentment, but when you place your eyes on him you feel that tingle again, that warmth invading you from head to toe, while his gaze is as enveloping and sensual as it has ever been. “You look great,” he tells you, and Carol immediately echoes him, ”oh yes, you look so beautiful today!” You say thank you, chat for a couple more minutes, and then excuse yourself by saying you need to go to the restroom. The whole time you were standing in front of him he was just staring at you, his gaze went down to your ankles noticing your brand new shoes, and you can swear you saw his mouth bend into a smile, almost imperceptible.

You still feel stupid for wasting the whole afternoon dolling yourself up for a married man.

You cross the hallway to the bathroom and see Gretchen again, deep in conversation with the same waiter, she’s leaning against the wall, running a hand over his chest covered by a white shirt and giggling coquettishly. She looks up and sees you, “Hey there! How are you?”

“All good, hun, how are you?”you reply. 

“I’m great! We need to talk later!” she shrieks at your back as you hurry toward the restroom door. You lock yourself inside in an instant and lean your hands against the sink, sighing. What the hell had gotten into you, what did you think you were doing? 

You take a couple more deep breaths and try to downplay “okay, let's just calm down, there's nothing a couple more martinis can't fix” You look in the mirror and say to yourself “now you go out, enjoy the party with your friends, then you go home and forget about this whole thing. Enough of this crap” you whisper it in a low voice. You have just finished the sentence when you hear a knock at the door. “I'm done, just a second,” you say loudly.

You don't expect the voice you hear coming from the other side “It's Dave” 

You pull your ear to the door to make sure you get it right and ask “who?”

 “Dave. Open up” Your heart skips a beat and your hand trembles on the door knob as you are unsure what to do. “What do you want?“

”To talk. Come on, open up.” 

You don't understand what you should talk about, there is nothing to discuss, nothing happened “I'm going out now,” you mumble, check your makeup quickly and pull the handle determined to avoid  him and go back to the garden to find your friends.

You make to leave but Dave pushes you back inside the bathroom “Wait a minute” You are incredulous as you look at his enigmatic smile “What is it?” 

“You bought the shoes” You don't know what he is getting at “So what?” 

“I was right. They fit you well” He smiles at you and you feel a knot in your stomach 

‘Did you need to lock yourself in the bathroom to tell me that?’ you raise an eyebrow wryly. 

The situation is so absurd that you even pluck up the courage to answer him in kind. 

“Actually, no. But to do this...yes” He leans over you and encircles your face with one hand ‘You’re so damn perfect tonight’ he whispers, before placing his lips on yours. 

You open your eyes wide as if you've been hit by a gunshot, not expecting anything like this. 

His mouth is soft and inviting, his tongue moving lightly against your lips, and you let it in, savoring a warm and delicious whiff of whiskey, losing yourself in his flavor, feeling his hands tighten on your hips. Before you know it, he has pushed you against the marble walls, caging you into his body and continuing to lick into your mouth like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert, unleashing an unprecedented storm inside you. You moan into his mouth as your arms wrap around his back and your hips thrust against his in a silent but desperate plea for attention.

Your bodies blend perfectly, it feels like one of those wet dreams you keep having at night in the privacy of your room. Him naked on top of you covering your skin with kisses that descend over your breasts grazing your nipples and then over your belly to your pussy. Him pounding you senseless as you whine and scratch his back with your fingernails feeling so full of his cock. 

He suddenly pulls back and reality collapses on you again waking you up from the stupor you've fallen into. He smiles at you again “I just wanted to tell you this,” his hand caresses your neck, his eyes fix on your breasts accentuated by the cleavage of your dress just for a moment and as he arrived he disappears behind the door again going back to mingling among the people. 

He didn't even leave you time to talk, left you standing there like a fool, wondering what the hell it all means. What does he want from you? What is going to happen from now on? Your head is empty, you brush your lips still feeling his latent taste. If you were asked who is the most peculiar man in your neighborhood, you would surely say Dave York. You would also say that he is a total threat to your heart. 

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @syd-djarin @penascigarette @joelalorian @pedrostories @sunnytuliptime let me know if you want to be added or removed and I'll do it right away.

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

[theapangea]

Think You Can Handle It?

Characters/ Pairings: Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!!, hand job, blow job, swallowing, unprotected p in v, choking, hair pulling, gagging, female and male receiving, rough sex

A/N: I was blushing the WHOLE time I was writing this so that’s your warning lol. Hope you like it you little pervs ;)) I am trying to get better at writing smut so pls be nice! All mistakes are mine.

It wasn’t unusual for you to aimlessly walk into the Gallagher house. There were people always coming and going so they rarely locked the front door. And even when it is locked, like this time, the backdoor is kept open. 

The house is quiet when you open the door, a weird phenomenon that only happens once in a blue moon. Looking around through the entry ways to see if anyone is in the living room before making your way up the stairs. You can hear the hum of music from the far end of the hallway. A smile creeps onto your face as the Gallagher you are here to see is the only one home.

Lucky you.

Opening the door to the boys’ room, his head lifting from his textbook to see your cheeky smile staring back at him.

“What are you doing here?” Lip’s monotone voice echoes from the top bunk, a small hit to your ego.

“I’m borrreddd,” you whine, elongating the words. “So I’m here to bother you.” Your fingers graze along the wooden ladder as your other hand pushes the door shut. The locking sound clicks through the room. 

“Well don’t. ’ve got homework to do.” The annoyance in his voice is radiating.

Ignoring his command to leave as you are here for one thing and Phillip Gallagher is the only person that can help you out. Your eyes follow the dozens of posters that line the walls, head bobbing slightly to the music that fills the room, fingers trail against any object they can touch. 

Lip follows your every movement as you make a half circle around the room, only to disappear under his bed, just out of sight. Which, quite frankly, annoys the shit out of him. 

Sighing as he climbs down his bunk. “Can you stop snooping?” His chest lightly hits your back as his fingers graze yours, yanking the action figure that you held in your hand. 

His tone is soul crushing but his touch is euphoric, wishing it lingered just a bit longer. And as fast as he touched you, the faster he disappeared, tossing the toy in some unknown direction. 

Your mouth opens as you plan to say some snarky comment that will most likely make him laugh but when you turn around the only thing you can notice is his shirtless figure standing right in front of you- the messy bed head, the sleepy smile, the sheer fabric of his blue boxers, standing in between your eyesight and his cock. And boy was there something big begging to get out of those tight little shorts.

Definitely makes a girl have wild thoughts. And did those thoughts not want to be kept in.

Licking your dry lips as you tilt your head to the side, “You look like you have a big dick.”

He laughs, clearly caught off guard by your statement, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” It’s almost as though your tiny comment gives him some sort of ego boost as he stands straighter, puffing his chest out, the tent in his boxers growing more.

“That’s why I said something, dummy.” One of the few nicknames you have for him, rolling your eyes, “Look I know we’re supposed to hate each other and all but I have to admit that I find you really hot.” You’re unable to hold any sort of eye contact with him, shifting between his crotch area and a poster behind him. 

His eyes darken as he listens to your confession, “Wow I’m flattered,” The cockiness in his voice is thick, “You wouldn’t be able to handle me anyways,” winking at you.

The arrogance in his tone sends a shiver down your shine, a wet spot starting to form in your core. The comment really sends your dirty thoughts into overdrive, “So it is big huh?” Crossing your arms, having to physically stop yourself from showing any kind of enjoyment from this conversation.

“I don’t really like to toot my own horn, sweetheart.” One of the few nicknames he has for you, rolling your eyes as a quick response.

But you couldn’t help yourself but wonder if he was being honest or not. If The Lip Gallagher actually had a big dick or if it was just something all the girls were lying about. But they couldn’t all be lying, right?

“So can I see it?” You ask innocently, your gaze following along his silhouette.

He ponders the question for a second, contemplating the pros and cons of what could happen if you see his dick. In this case, the pros heavily outweigh the cons. Shrugging his shoulders before hooking his thumbs underneath the hem of his boxers and pulling them to the ground. His cock graciously bouncing in all of its glory as he stands back up.

Eyes wide as his member stands proud and tall right in front of you. The soft skin, pink head, pulsing veins, glistening wet pre-cum leaking from the slit makes it hard for you to look away. Definitely bigger than you thought it was going to be, not that you would admit that you pictured it one too many times. 

“Is it what you expected?” He questions, snapping you back to reality. Though you did miss thinking about how nice it would feel deep inside of you.

“I’d say better.” You barely get the sentence out as it bops slightly up and down.

The tension in the small room is thick and growing. You both stand there, not saying a word, not breaking eye contact unless it’s you sneaking another peek at his throbbing cock. 

“Can I touch it?” You speak softly, your voice barely audible above the music.

“Are you ready for that, princess?” Yet another nickname but instead of being annoyed, it was actually turning you on. The itching feeling between your legs is spreading through your body, shifting weight from one foot to another, anything to suppress the feeling for just a split second.

Nodding your head in response, your eyes big and doe-like. A quick nod from him signaling for you to approach. You can barely move at first, your legs locking from the heat growing in your core. 

You are about to touch Lip Gallagher’s dick, maybe there really is a God.

Taking a couple of short steps to close the distance between the two of you. The hot air of your breaths mixing together as you stare into his piercing blue eyes. Shaking slightly as your fingers graze the delicate top skin, wrapping the rest of your hand around his shaft. A short gasp spills from Lip’s mouth as you begin to stroke the silky skin from the base to the tip, squeezing gentling as you push back down his length. Feeling it grow against your palm, not believing that it can actually get any bigger.

Lip watches as you stroke his erection, barely able to speak. He’s had many handjobs in his years but something about how delicate you are being with him, the hints of innocence and curiosity as you hold his member in your hands. Something that is turning him on more than anything else in his whole life.

“So do you think you can handle it?” He asks as you lift your head, inches away from his face.

Choking on your words, “I'll definitely try.” 

Chuckling at your response before placing his rough hands on your cheeks, pulling you in for a kiss, the hint of cheap beer and cigarettes fill your senses. Hand gripping tighter around his cock while Lip deepens the kiss. The soft moans vibrate against your lips as your hand starts to pump again, following your movement with his hips. 

His hands travels to the base of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair while tugging at your bottom lip, begging for his tongue to be let in, the taste of beer only intensifies when his tongue dances with yours. His right hand moves down to the small of your back, pulling you towards him, your body’s needing to be close to each other. 

His lips only leaving yours as he sits down on the edge of the bed by the window, his left hand still tangled in your hair as he pulls you down to kneel in front of him, the rough carpet digging into your knees. Using his free hand to pump his aching cock, holding it straight between his thumb and middle finger as your head dips down, lips hovering over the soft pink tip. Fingers digging into his skin as they drag along his thighs, body thrusting up begging for you to finally wrap your lips around his length. Finally allowing him to release the built up tension.

Centimeters above his dick, the taste of pre-cum practically already on your tongue. Your spit falls from your mouth, hitting his raw tip as you use it to lubricate the rest of the shaft. 

Wrapping your lips around his manhood, flattening your tongue so it lays flat against the sensitive skin on the bottom, sending his body into ecstasy.

A sharp breath inhales from Lip as he stares intensely at your actions. Hands immediately release from you to grip the bed sheet, needing some form of stability as you begin to take his shaft fully into your mouth, only about half way before it becomes too much. Using one of your hands to help cater to the rest of the length that you couldn’t fit, squeezing, pulling, twisting the base as your head bobs faster on his cock. The pretty moans escaping Lip’s mouth as you suck him off.

Moving all of your hair to one side so he can get a better look at you giving him a blow job, “Fuck,” is the only thing he can manage to get out as he buckles his hips underneath you, your mouth pushing him into bliss.

Forcing yourself down more against his length, gagging as you try to take more and more down your throat. The scene increasingly becomes messier as saliva is spilling from your mouth, coating his cock in the liquid. His hands immediately pushing down on the back of your head, his hips thrusting upwards, moving back and forth slightly as you gag against him. His dominant demeanor overflows the pool that leaks through your panties. 

With one final thrust, holding a second longer in your throat before releasing you. A much needed breath filling your lungs as you wipe the remaining saliva from your chin, mouth sore from his size. His hands instantly on your face again, his thumbs wiping away the tears that have steamed down your cheeks. His eyes are softer now, concern written all over his face as he examines you.

A small smile peaks through the messy strands of hair that fall in front of your face as you continue to catch your breath. His laugh rings in your ears as he realizes you are fine. Grabbing your hand, tugging light, signaling for you to stand back up with him. Once on your feet, his hands start to roam your body, pulling your old shirt over your head, exposing your bare breast to the warm, still air. 

Wrapping his arms around your waist, turning your bodies around with your back to the bed, lowering you down gently, his lips leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down your neck. Sucking hard against your collarbone, purple bruises surfacing. 

Arching as he continues his trail down your chest, catching your nipple in his mouth. Licking, nibbling at your delicate skin, moaning in satisfaction. The trail of kisses as he moves to your other breast, using his free hand to massage the one he’s not attending too. 

Sliding his hands down your sides, goosebumps surface from where he once was. Hooking his fingers in your shorts, pulling them and your panties off of your legs, helping him in the process. Rough hands stroking against your bare legs, bringing them up above his head so that your naked core is exposed. 

The dirty smirk and dark eyes weigh on his face. Breath heavy as you can feel your wetness seep out of you. 

Digging his fingers into your fragile skin as they grip the back of your knees, bending your legs and pushing them closer to your chest, holding you in a submission position. His gray blue eyes fixated on yours while he places a small kiss on your tender clit. The small action making your wiggle under his grasp, the whine dancing around the room. A smile residing on his face from sheer satisfaction. 

Catching your sensitive nub in his mouth, humming against your clit as your body jolts towards him. Sucking and licking your raw center as you grind against his tongue. Your breath skips as he continues. 

Whimpering when he stops, placing small kisses down your folds until he gets to your entrance, sticking his tongue in to get a better taste. Mouth hooking onto your folds as his tongue tries to move deeper into your dripping core. His nose settles against your delicate clit, sending a shooting electricity through your body. Fingers tangling in his blonde locks as you hold him in place as he brushes against your sweet spot.

The overwhelming sensation builds through your body, pumping your blood with sin as his cold tongue mixes with your juices. Arching your back, eyes closed as he continues on his feast. Your moans floating around the room as he eats your pussy, rough lips, cold tongue pushing you so close to the edge. Your thoughts on Lip, his dreaming smile, hard dick, heat growing in your core as he continues to hit your sensitive spot. Enjoying your delicious juices as you ride his face. Body jolting, legs buckling as he helps you over the edge into heaven, your mind cloudy as you cum all over his tongue. Lip licking the remaining juices that have spilled down your butt.

The smirk resides on his face as he knows he did a good job. Standing as one of his hands is still holding onto the back of your thigh and the other is situating his dick to the entrance of your core. His tip turns more red as he grazes lightly between your folds. Your moans mixing as the pain of him not being inside of you becomes too much to handle.

“Put it in already,” You plead, grabbing the back of his legs, hoping that would make it accidentally slip in. 

“Needy baby.”

The two little words could have made you cum again right then and there but before you could even process what was going on, his length suddenly shot into you, pushing forcefully through your entrance.

“Fuck -” he moans, “You are so fucking tight.” The buzz of pleasure overcoming the both of you. Pushing deeper inside of your folds, feeling the head going further and further into your pussy.

His left hand abandoning your thigh to let both of your legs rest upon his shoulders, taking his hand to your neck, the purple bruises from his kisses finally appearing, wrapping his fingers around your throat, squeezing the sides gently as he increases his speed. The heat rises as he continues pumping, toes curling, back arching as he fucks you. 

Your center continues to leak, lubricating his dick and dripping around his balls that slam into you. Leaning closer to you, your legs the only thing stopping the two of you being chest to chest. Catching your lips in a passionate, wet kiss. Wrapping his arms around your head, bringing you closer to him. Slamming away into your tight core, expanding the entrance over and over again.

His aching cock flexing inside of your walls, building pressure as he continues his movement, holding you extremely close, never wanting to let you go. His name falls out of your mouth as he pounds aggressively into you. 

Toes curling, leg shaking, buckling under the pier ecstasy as his rhythm is pushing you more and more towards the edge. The dam is about to break and you are unable to hold it back any longer. The wave of emotion as you cum on his dick. 

“Fuck,” his thrust becomes increasingly messier, “‘m gonna cum baby. Shallow?”

The tiny moan of confirmation was all you could get out. 

One final thrust before he quickly pulls out and steps back to allow you to drop to your knees, smashing them roughly into the carpet. Wrapping your lips around his swollen cock, sucking as the delicious, hot liquid coats your mouth and throat. Deep throating as much of his cock as you can, his hand tousled in your hair, holding you down. 

The sound of you choking on his cock and his euphoric moans fill the tiny room. Pulling back as you catch your breath, wiping the spit and semen from the corner of your mouth. 

Smiling widely up at Lip, “Told you I could handle it.”

~~~

So what do you think???

Requests are open <3

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Web of Lies.

Spencer Reid has always been good at keeping secrets. You just never thought he'd keep any from you.

Pairing - Spiderman!Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Word Count - 3750

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. mentions of violence and blood. potentially smut in the next chapters.

Author's Note - i am so excited to share this with all of you!! i saw a tiktok comparing marvel characters to criminal minds characters, and couldn't get the idea of spencer as spiderman out of my head. this will absolutely have more than one part, but i'm not sure how many just yet. please let me know what you think!! as always, reblogs, comments and feedback are always immensely appreciated <3

Masterlist. Requests.

Series Masterlist.

You probably should have noticed something was wrong way before you did.

That's the thing about elusive people - and Spencer Reid is one mysterious man.

In many ways, he wears his heart on his sleeve. He doesn't filter his words like most people do - he'll tell you exactly what he thinks, exactly what he feels. He doesn't sugar coat, he doesn't exaggerate. You can always count on Spencer to tell it to you straight.

But he's not exactly an open book. You know he had a difficult childhood - you've pieced some of it together based on anecdotes and passing comments. You know he's the youngest person to ever work for the FBI, never mind the esteemed Behavioural Analysis Unit. You know he's gentle, kind, loving, supportive, and the best friend and colleague you could ever ask for.

It's just that some days, it feels like there's still so much you don't know. Which is why you never really saw this coming.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It's Monday.

Spencer Reid has a black eye.

It's not unusual for you to show up to work on Monday with Fridays injuries. Bruises, scrapes, broken bones. They all come along as a part of the job. But the last case you worked didn't involve any physical altercations. No, in fact, it was a surprisingly easy arrest. So why is Spencer black and blue?

He sits down at his desk and turns on his computer, unaware of the way you're watching him like a hawk. Reading him like a book. You're replaying the events of the last case, trying to piece together exactly when Spencer had gotten hurt without you knowing.

"Hey, Spence?" you call, making your way over to where he's sat cross legged in his chair.

His eyes flick up and meet yours, and something in you churns. An alarm bell goes off somewhere in your distant mind, but you silence it, perching on the edge of his desk.

"Are you okay?"

He smiles at you gently, enamoured with the care you reserve just for him.

"I'm good. How are you? How was your weekend? Did you go to the new farmers market in the end? Did you start that book I got you?"

It's not unusual for him to ask you twenty questions at once, so you try to answer them as best as you can, eyes still glued to his shiny bruise.

"Yeah, I'm good. It was good, despite all that rain we had. Luke took me to the farmers market, and we tried these new grapes. Did you know they made grapes that taste like cotton candy? I saved you some, they're in my bag. I'm on chapter three of the book, so nothing has really happened yet. Where'd you get the bruise, Genius?"

You're hoping that your rambling will catch him off guard, and he'll answer without thinking. He looks at you carefully, considering his reply. No such luck.

"Fell in my kitchen. Tripped over my own damn shoes, smacked my face straight into the counter," he chuckles.

It does sound like Spencer. He's clumsy on the best of days, always dropping something or stumbling next to you. It's not far fetched that his own feet have caused him an injury.

You drop the issue, and laugh along with the team when they tease him about his physical ineptitude.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It's Tuesday.

Spencer Reid is a bad liar.

You're both settled into the cushions of your couch, eyes glued to the television screen. You're watching reruns of a 90s sitcom, the laugh track echoing around the apartment.

"That paramedic was totally checking you out today," you tease gently, poking him with your foot.

A blush instantly rises to his cheeks, the rosy tint a familar picture.

"No she wasn't," he counters, tripping over his words. "She was just doing her job."

"If by doing her job you mean undressing you with her eyes, then yes, she was doing her job."

You're both laughing - you at Spencer's bashful expression, him at your obliviousness.

"Are you jealous?"

He means to tease you, but it comes out more serious than intended. Your smile drops into a surprised smirk, eyebrows raising in shock.

You sit in silence for a minute, before you confess quietly.

"Maybe a little."

Spencer tries to process your words, but his brain doesn't want to work, apparently.

"Wait... you are?"

"I guess," you mutter lowly. "I just... forget I said anything. She was really pretty. Maybe I was just a little intimated."

You jokingly nudge him with your shoulder, and go back to watching the TV. Spencer's brain finally reboots and starts running a mile a minute, thoughts flying around like comets shooting through the night sky.

You sit together for hours, slipping into sleep gently. It isn't unusual for the two of you to doze off on the couch. Sleepovers happen regularly, both of you completely comfortable with the other person.

It's 3am when Spencer shoots up, pulling on his converse frantically.

"What's wrong?" you panic, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

"Nothing. I just, uh, I have to go."

He grabs his bag and beelines for the front door without so much as stopping to explain himself.

"Spencer!" you call after him, willing him to slow down for minute. "Has something happened?"

"No, it's fine. I'll, uh, explain some other time. Just... just get some sleep. I've really gotta run."

And with that, he's out the door, leaving you bleary eyed and confused in the middle of your living room.

You fall asleep on the couch, head resting on the sweater that Spencer left behind in his rush to leave.

You're half convinced you've dreamt the events of the evening.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It's Wednesday.

Spencer Reid isn't at work.

Spencer Reid is always at work.

Emily regularly has to remind him to take time off. Luke teases that he'll steal his vacation hours if Spence doesn't use them. He's always sat at his desk, waiting for everyone else to arrive every morning.

Which is why his absence is making you worried.

The occurrences of last night are still replaying in your head like a stuck video tape, repeating over and over again. You're over analysing every word he said, every move he made. Leaving in a hurry without reason is so unlike Spencer. You consider supernatural forces, or possession, or Freaky Friday style body swapping. There's no logical explanation for his behaviour, you're convinced. Monday's black eye floats back into your mind, and your heart rate rises ever so slightly.

You march up the stairs and knock on Emily's office window with a bit more force than originally intended.

"Come in."

You swing the door open and slam it shut behind you, anxiety coursing through your veins.

"Hey, hey. Are you alright?" she asks, watching the way your eyes are flicking around the room, looking for clues.

"Where's Spencer?"

"What?"

"Emily. Where's Spencer?"

She gets up from her chair to stand in front of you, placing her hands on your shoulders.

"He's sick, some sort of flu, he thinks. I've told him to go back to bed, and to call if he needs anything."

Her words don't reassure you like she thought they would.

"Did he sound sick?"

"Huh?"

"Did he sound sick, when he called?"

"I don't know, really. I guess so."

"You're a profiler, Emily. You should be able to tell if he's sick or not," you snap.

"Woah," she counters. "What's wrong? Talk to me."

You sit down in the nearest chair, and run your hands over your face.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she reassures, kneeling in front of you. "Tell me what's going on, and I can try to help."

"It's nothing, I'm sure," you rationalise. "I'm just worried about him. Something's off, but I have no idea what it is."

You take a deep breath, Emily rubbing soothing circles into your knee.

"You know, if he were to talk to anyone about what was wrong, it'd be you."

"You think?"

"I don't think, I know."

It's no secret that you and Spencer are close. You've been best friends from the minute you joined the team, forming a connection instantly. As the years have gone by, the feelings have gotten stronger, but the both of you are too scared to admit it to yourselves or each other. You'd do anything for him, and he would do anything for you.

"Maybe you're right. I'll go over there after work and talk to him, see if I can get him to open up."

Emily leans down and gives you a hug, squeezing you a little tighter than usual.

"I'm always here for you. Both of you."

"I know," you smile gratefully. "I appreciate it, boss."

Just as you're leaving her office, Penelope calls you all into the briefing room, giving you no time to think about what could potentially be going on.

You look at the victims faces on the screen, and every single one seems to look like Spencer Reid.

✵  ���    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It's Thursday.

Spencer Reid is having a panic attack.

He's back at work, making a seemingly miraculous recovery from his short lived illness. You went to his apartment last night after work as promised, but your knocking went unanswered. You don't know where he was, but you're worried.

You've been watching him across the bullpen all morning. You're surveying him carefully when his breathing becomes rapid, eyes flickering around the room. He stands up abruptly, practically running from his desk. You follow him instinctively, all the way into the men's bathroom. He's leaning over the sink, hands gripping the porcelain, knuckles turning white. His eyes are locked on himself in the mirror. He looks as if he doesn't recognise who he sees.

"Spence?" you urge gently, careful to keep your voice low. "Are you alright?"

His gaze meets yours over his shoulder, and he tenses even more. A wave of anxiety rolls through you. Usually, Spencer sees you and relaxes - you're like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly, you're not sure where you stand with him.

"Spence, please. Talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine," he snaps.

He's never taken that tone with you before. It doesn't make you as sad as it probably should. No, it makes you angry.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way," you hiss, pointing your finger at him. "I am trying to help you. Don't push me away."

"What's it gonna take for you to leave me alone?" he asks viciously.

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, shock painting your features.

"You know what? Fine. Message received."

You turn on your heel and stride towards the door, stopping when you've swung it open. You look at him over your shoulder, and shake your head, a humourless laugh escaping you.

"Fuck you, Spencer Reid."

You slam the door behind you, leaving him alone, chest heaving and hands shaking.

✵

You're marching back to your desk when JJ calls the team together. You take a deep breath and try to release the anger from your body, but it proves difficult. It's tangled itself around your bones, running through your blood like a flash flood. You paint a smile on your face, and take your seat in the briefing room.

Spencer joins a couple of minutes later, choosing to sit across the table, rather than in his usual chair next to you. Luke takes the place instead, and reaches over to rest a hand on your thigh.

"You okay?" he murmurs lowly, careful to not make a scene.

"Yeah," you whisper back, fingers tangling with his where they rest on your leg. "I'm okay."

JJ pulls up the case details on the screen, and Luke doesn't let go of your hand.

"Where are we jetting off to today?" Matt asks, all eyes on the blonde at the front of the room.

"Nowhere, actually. Local, this time."

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, glad to stay close to home.

"Okay, the nearest PD have just sent this case through, and it's... weird."

"Weird how?" Tara enquires. It's not often that JJ comments on a case before she's shared all of the details.

"It's a man hunt, of sorts. They're calling him a vigilante."

"Ooo, like a supervillain?" Luke chuckles.

When JJ doesn't laugh, he doubles down.

"Wait, we're not actually catching a supervillain, are we?"

Everyone turns to JJ, who looks just as confused as the rest of you feel.

"Well... kinda?"

You allow your eyes to flick to Spencer, who's still breathing heavily, hand gripping the edge of the table. JJ clicks the remote in her hand, and a picture of a man in a red suit appears on the screen.

"This is the guy they're calling Spiderman. He's been spotted at multiple crime scenes over the last few weeks. He's making a hell of a lot of people very suspicious."

"Spiderman? Why is his costume red?" Tara asks, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Aren't there red spiders?" Rossi counters.

"Reid, are there red spiders?"

All heads turn to look at Spencer, who's gone completely pale. He tunes into the conversation, clearly not listening.

"Hmm?"

"I said, are there red spiders?"

"Yeah," he replies shortly. Everyone waits for him to spit his facts, to explain the different species, but he doesn't. His head drops slightly, a signal that he's done talking.

Everyone watches him in puzzlement, confused by his sudden silence.

"Anyway," JJ starts, "he's been linked to a number of local crimes. It started off as battery, assault, GBH - but last night there was a murder downtown, and he was spotted at the scene. He's prime suspect."

"Apart from, we don't know who he is," Matt adds.

"Exactly. That's why the police department have called us in. They can't handle it on their own."

Penelope starts to pass around case files, everyone flicking through at their own pace. Spencer doesn't even open his, just stares at it where it sits on the table.

"Reid, are you alright?" Emily asks, concerned.

"I'm fine. I just need some air," he replies quickly, taking his papers and striding out of the room.

You watch him go, squeezing Lukes hand a little harder.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It's Friday.

Spencer Reid is in trouble.

He's in too deep.

He can't remember the last time he took a deep breath.

His shoulders are so tense, it's a struggle to pull his sweater on.

His hands shake as he reads the case file from yesterday again.

Spiderman. Male. Mid twenties to early thirties. Slim build. Tall. Local - knows the area. Must have a connection to the police - perhaps his own radio.

Spencer accidentally knocks his knee into the desk, and winces. The wound he haphazardly stitched throbs beneath his corduroy trousers, and he prays he's not about to bleed through the material. People are asking enough questions as it is.

"Reid, Alvez, grab your jackets. You're going to the crime scene," Emily calls from up the stairs.

You watch as Spencer rises from his chair, making note of the way he's carefully putting more weight on his right leg. He rolls his shoulders once, twice, three times, before picking up his bag and heading out the door. Luke shoots you a wink as he follows him out, making you smile gently.

You decide to take a trip to see Garcia. She always knows how to take your mind off things.

You cruise into her office, instantly sitting in her spare chair, twirling in circles.

"God, you and Genius are like the same person," she giggles. "He does the exact same thing when he comes in here."

You smile instinctively, and then remember the way he spoke to you yesterday. The way he's treated you this week. The way he's acted as if you didn't exist all day. Your smile fades, and she notices.

"Is everything okay with you two?"

You sigh, and take a deep breath to try and prevent yourself from crying.

"I don't know."

"Oh, honey."

Penelope rolls over to you in her chair, wrapping her arms around you tightly.

"He won't tell me what's wrong, and pushes me away when I try to ask. We had a fight yesterday, and now he won't even look at me. I don't know what I've done to make him hate me all of a sudden," you sob, tears running down your cheeks.

"He doesn't hate you," she murmurs soothingly into your hair. "He loves you more than anyone in the entire world."

"I'm not so sure that's true," you whisper.

"It is. I promise you. He's never been good at talking about his feelings. I'm sure whatever it is, he'll tell you soon enough. You'll work this out - you always do."

You let her hold you for a little longer, sinking into her embrace. Maybe she's right. Maybe it'll all be alright.

✵

After work, you try to relax.

You cook dinner, run yourself a bubble bath. You watch a cheesy movie, eat the good chocolate you've been saving. You snuggle into the couch, pulling a blanket over your legs. But you can't settle.

Usually, a Friday night would mean a sleepover. You and Spencer order takeout, tangle your legs together and fall asleep, chattering about nothing and everything. But tonight, you're alone. You can't stand it anymore.

Throwing on the sweater that Spencer left on Tuesday, you slip on your shoes and get in your car. You drive on autopilot, mind zoned out completely. Before you know it, you're parking on the street below Spencer's apartment building.

You're met with silence when you knock on the door. You try again, and still, nothing.

A choked sob escapes you, and you rest your forehead against the wood. The tears flow freely, forming a puddle on the welcome mat.

The welcome mat.

You pull it back roughly, and find the spare key that he irresponsibly leaves there. Letting yourself into his apartment, you inhale deeply. It smells so distinctly like Spencer. The familar scent used to bring you comfort. Now, it just makes you cry harder.

You collapse on his kitchen floor, letting your head fall back against the cabinet. After an hour or so, you allow your eyes to drift closed, knees hugged tightly to your chest.

✵

You're abruptly awoken by a door slamming shut.

You jump to your feet, and let out a startled sound. Running into the living room, you expect to see Spencer, but he's nowhere to be found. You tune in to the sound of running water, and assume he's in the shower. You perch on the edge of the couch and wait.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer asks as he makes his way into the room.

He doesn't sound scared, or confused, or shocked. It almost feels like he knew you were here.

"I couldn't sleep," you reply cautiously. "Where have you been? It's 4am."

"I couldn't sleep either."

"Yeah? Then why are you bleeding?"

He turns towards the mirror on the wall, and lays eyes on a gash across his cheekbone. He definitely didn't see that before.

"Slipped in the shower."

You jump to your feet, rage fuelling your movements.

"Stop fucking lying!"

Now he looks shocked. He's taken aback, stepping away from you slowly.

"I... I'm not," he says meekly. He doesn't even believe his own lie.

"You're doing it again! What did I do, Spencer? What did I do to lose all of your trust?!"

He tries to calm you down, but it just makes you angrier.

"Tell me!" you scream at him. "I'm going insane, Spencer! I'm going fucking insane!"

"It's not your fault," he tries to explain. "You haven't done anything wrong, I promise."

"Then why don't you love me anymore?" you sob. Your knees give way, and you fall to the ground, cries wracking your exhausted frame.

Spencer's heart breaks so hard, he's convinced he can hear it shatter.

He strides over, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can. The contact makes you cry more, tears soaking into his t shirt.

"I could never stop loving you," he whispers. "Nothing in the world could ever make me stop loving you."

You pull back to look at him, astounded by his confession.

"I'm trying to protect you," he continues quietly. "I'm doing this because I love you."

You thread your hands through his hair and pull him towards you, pressing your lips to his urgently. He cradles your face and kisses you back, ignoring the way your tears drip down his face. You tug him closer, desperate for this moment to never end.

He's finally here. Back in your arms, where he belongs.

Eventually, you pull away, gasping for air. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and his eyes well up with emotion.

"Hey," you soothe, stroking his cheek with your thumb gently. "It's okay. You're okay. We're okay."

"I feel like I'm drowning," he whispers.

"Whatever it is, Spence, we'll figure it out. We always do."

"What if we can't this time?"

"Then we come up with a plan B. And a plan C. And a plan D. We've got at least 26 plans before we run out of letters."

He chuckles, but there's no laughter in it. You tilt his chin towards you, so your eyes are locked.

"I'm not going anywhere," you murmur. "No matter what it is, I'm not going anywhere."

He takes a deep breath, and releases it shakily.

"Promise?"

You smile gently, and take a deep breath to mirror his.

"I promise."

He nods slowly, and moves to sit in front of you cross legged. You match his movements and do the same, facing him assuredly.

"I have to tell you something. And you can't tell anyone, ever," he begins. "It's going to change the way you look at me. It's going to change the way you love me. It's going to change everything."

"You can tell me, Spence," you reassure. "You can trust me."

Spencer takes a deep breath - and then a second, and a third. His eyes bore into yours, and he inhales again, before uttering the words that will undoubtedly change both of your lives completely.

"I'm Spiderman."

@twsssmlmaa @evansflowers @sourskywalker @butterflylilacsverse @acornacreacure @yourrrrrprefffffect @shadowhuntyi @valenftcrush @n3x5t3rra29 @wittlewowa @slay-hamster2006 @ceruleanrainblues @sad-ass-hoe19 @dezibou @starksfavouritedaughter @lexie0037 @beautyb1ade @spencerzakwrites @thataltdisabledgirl @wannabecoolakid @cassiestars777 @min-jianhyung @lazylexiiii @convolv0 @laurenofatlantis @golden-guide @olive-gb @thebiggestscamislife @wyrdxwitch @rizosrizos26 @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @frogers @sun-fiower-seed @dancinwyourghost

[restinslices]

Yo, still waiting for that if Tomas was a sub one (canon tbh)

Cannot believe I forgot. Y’all can boo me

Imma just come out and say it. He's such a whiny sub

There are characters that give me dom vibes but I think them as subs would be fun. There are characters that give me switch vibes. Tomas gives me only sub vibes. I don't detect a dom in there. idk, that's just me tho

So needy and whiny it'd probably throw you off when you see him doing anything other than begging you to touch him 

Cannot handle teasing at all. He's ok with teasing you but breaks easily when you tease him 

Honestly he can't backup any of the shit he talks. 

One of those subs who need attention at all times. Even if you're not interacting with him, he still wants you in the area 

Kinks I think he'd have are barebacking, biting, humiliation (a HUGE one and imma stand on it), breath play, collaring (in private), impact play, sex toys and sensory deprivation 

I just feel like he's a slut in disguise. Where's my proof? I made it the fuck up. I'm doing this for US 

If you have female anatomy he's also getting pegged. IDC IDC 

Humiliation is a big one for him because he knows it's still a safe space. You can taunt him about how he's a slut, write things on him, make him get off with something unusual, ect. but at the end of day you still love him and it's all for fun. 

You can tell when he's needy ‘cause he's extremely close to you. He follows you around normally, but he's right on your heels 

To torture him more you can pretend you have no idea what he wants. He knows you know and you know he knows, but watching him try to ignore how he feels ‘cause he doesn't wanna say it out loud is priceless. 

He also has a tendency to say he can't take anymore but in reality he wants you to keep going. This is a big guy, he can take it. 

There's two good punishments for him; Cockwarming and overstimulation 

Cockwarming because he can't handle teasing. It's so simple but he can't stand it and doesn't know which is worse; when you're inside of him (actual dick or strapon, doesn't matter) or when he's inside of you. Either way, it doesn't take long for him to apologize for whatever he's done and beg you to fuck him already. 

For overstimulation he gets turned on and cums pretty easily so it wouldn't take that much to overstimulate him. 

These two go well together. Cockwarming then overstimulation as a “isn't this what you wanted?”

What would make this better is quizzing him on something. His brain stops working when he's horny so quizzing him on Lin Kuei principles or something else he for sure knows adds to it. 

He knows he knows the answer but his brain is a fog. It kinda puts the punishment in his hands but that adds to the torture. If he could figure this out, then you'd actually fuck him (or you'd stop fucking him if you do this while overstimulating him)

As I'm typing this I thought of another thing that can be both a punishment but also something he enjoys. Dryhumping. Listen to me and listen to me well-

I can see him coming up behind you when you're alone and rubbing against you to let you know he's needy. And if you told him to keep going, he'd cum but it's not what he really wants to do. 

So him being in trouble and being forced to rub against you but not be inside you or have you inside him would drive him nuts. 

Aftercare for him would be showering together, cuddling and reassuring him you didn't mean any of the negative things you said. Especially after an intense punishment, he needs to hear you don't actually think negatively of him and you love him. 

Also reading together depending on the day. Just something really chill to pull him back to reality. 

I just realized he has the least amount of words so here are afterthoughts to fix that

I know I've called him whiny multiple times but I genuinely think sometimes he can't even form coherent sentences. All that comes out are noises 

Tries not to pout but does so anyway 

He can get off just from giving head 

Loves you leaving marks on him as long as he can cover it up. He can't be scrapping and the enemy sees a hickey on his neck

Tries to sneakily break rules. For example, if a rule is “no touching yourself when I'm gone” he'll do it anyway and try to get rid of the evidence. He'll shower, change clothes, clean any toy he used and whatever else he has to do but you somehow always know. 

Tomas is not the best liar and has some habits he does when lying, like tapping his fingertips together so you find out that way or from actually catching him and pretending you didn’t

The type to break rules on purpose if you haven't been giving him attention and then be surprised when actions have consequences 

Will call you whatever title you prefer if you don't just wanna go by your name

Like his brothers, he for sure could just throw you off but he never does. It adds to the fun. He's a skilled assassin but if you said “jump” he'd ask “how high?”

The best sub to have if you want one whos so pathetically in love with you but can be a little shit sometimes 

Even after his punishments, he keeps apologizing to make sure you're not actually mad at him. 

Probably begs you to cum inside him anyway you can

I see him and start tweaking fr

[igotanidea]

Batboys x albino!s/o headcanons

Requested : yes

This one was truly a challenge and got me thinking. But I like nonobvious requests, so if anyone else got anything specific in mind, ask away :)

DICK

He would notice it straight away, like he is tuned into spotting extraordinary looking people

Definitely staring at first, but not in the creepy or judgmental way, rather astonished

He would love you, I mean, consider the fact that he had dated a princess from Tamaran with purple hair and eyes glowing green,

I believe he would be the one to try to get the attention of such person by showing off a bit, trying to display all his best feature to match your outstanding ones.

“Hey, let’s be friends!”

He would show you off as well, sometimes making you blush or causing a bit of a drama when you feel a bit insecure about going out or being put on the spotlight

Once you get into a relationship with him, he would be the protector, always ready to assure you how amazing you are, and that people are only talking because they are jealous

Definitely doing self-care together, he would love to help you oil your hair and moisturize the skin (face mask first!)

And on sunny days he would never let you leave the house without putting a ton of sunscreen on, always having a sun umbrella to protect you from the rays and/or a bag otf other accessories (sunglasses, hats, etc.)

Casually running fingers through your hair or stroking your skin, just because he can

JASON

I think he would be the one to miss your pale skin and unusual hair color

at first

come on, this guy has  a white hair strand in the middle of the forehead and a tone of scars, I don’t think he focuses on the looks that much

But he has to notice eventually (probably by being called to order by Dick or Tim because of how insensitive he is)

Cause yes, he may seem a bit insensitive and rough on the outside never really addressing the matter of your albinism, but we all know he cares much more than it shows

You want to go out, but feel shy? – he will hype you and kill scare off anyone who may even look at you in a judgmental way.

You want to stay home and watch movies, but get insecure because of the way the lead female character looks? – screw the movie, he will kiss you until you forget about the whole world and just believe in yourself

I strongly believe he would be the one to understand why you feel down the best of all the batboys

He would stand with you in front of the mirror, pointing out all those little things you feel insecure about and then his own

“See, baby? We match.”

forehead kisses and cuddling on the couch (he won’t let you leave, just holding in that iron-clad embrace, not that you care).

TIM

Oh my god …

He’s like a walking encyclopedia and that is not necessarily a good thing

The most open about the matter, but the most awkward about it as well.

Once he started getting interested in you as more than a friend, he read like a whole library about albinism and approaching you without causing any psychological pain or hurt

And with that he pushed the point to the other side

“You don’t need to walk on the eggshells around me, Tim! You treat me like an alien or something like this! I am a person!”

And after a little fight he would confess that in fact he likes you and therefore all that embarrassing behavior

He would be the one to create a safe space for you both, like a bubble,

He’s been judged before and kind of learn how to not care and just be happy and content with himself and is more than willing to share his methods with you

Grabbing your hands the second he notices you getting insecure, arms rubbing and temple kisses

Making you meet all his friends, who will love you the first second they saw you

DAMIAN

Oh, he’s the one to stare at you with that impenetrable gaze which also seem judgmental, but it’s just curiosity

He’s been raised by a cult of assassin, there are so many things he knows shit about

Making you blush hard, which is way too visible on your pale skin

No one can really tell what he thought when you first met.

Not saying  a single word, just gawking

Pushing your limits to the point when you either cry or yell at him and it makes him even more interested (and maybe tiniest bit sorry)

Since then, he’s been the one to spite you just to see your reaction

Slowly getting addicted to that, to the point where any other girls just seem to ordinary and he misses having you with your astounding features around

“You are a jerk, Damian!” “Why? Because I find you the most interesting person on the planet?”

And once you get together ? he would probably go everywhere with his katana

And I mean everywhere, just to scare everyone who may say a single bad word about you

No one would dare

Even when you are in a relationship, he would still stare at you at times, when you don’t see that

He just can’t seem to keep his eyes of you, but is never going to straightforwardly admit how much you mean to him

[absolutebl]

Given the wide range of BL you've consumed and analyzed. I am curious at your perspective when comparing BLs made/written by men and those that were written by women, in a different direction, comparing BLs directed by men in comparison to women.

If you could have the time and give your perspective in this two sources of BL , that would be great.

Hum, I'm not sure how to answer this. Except in a kind of avoidance way because I question the premise.

I think, in general, in most of the film industry, the original writing has very little to do with the final result, because so many new voices and povs are imposed on it the moment it begins to be adapted. After a BL leaves its author (predominantly female) it goes to script, a writers room, and eventually into the hands of director and team. All those people are different genders (predominantly male). And all of them have a significant impact on the end result.

Sometimes the author has unprecedented influence (mame for example) but that's pretty unusual.

Statistically speaking, the origin IP (whether novel or graphic) is most likely written by a female and the resulting BL most likely directed by a male.

There are always exceptions, of course.

Even putting aside all the other people, mostly script writers, in between the two primaries (which I just don't think you can) it would be statistically challenging to draw any commonalities amongst female directors (since there are so few) or amongst male writers (for the same reason). In other words, we have many many examples of really only 1 of the 4 possible combinations, and all those examples are muddied by the nature of the filming process (not to mention the nature of gender).

In other words, it would be challenging for me to say things are generally preferable in any one version of the pairings.

I have liked BLs written and directed by women, written by a woman directed by a man, written by a man directed by a woman, or written and directed by men (although those last two I would struggle to name any BLs).

However, I have also liked and then disliked BLs from the same general team and combination of genders behind the creatives.

For me, at least, there doesn't seem to be a reliable team or a reliable writer or a reliable director whose BL product I will reliably love.

I would hesitate to place a predictor on my BL taste (or anyone else's) based on the gender of any part of the team behind a BL. That seems..... weird. Especially when queers and 3rd gender etc are involved (and we have always been involved in artistic spaces for as long as humans have existed, I suspect).

But then I feel that way about most entertainment, from music to books to plays to comedy to fashion. I can be a fan of a director's style but not like some of their shows, just as I can be a fan of an actor's performance but not the character they're playing, or a fan of a pair's chemistry but not in those roles, and so forth.

I think what youth and influencers and the internet age has forgotten is that it's okay to admire a creative individual and not slavishly adore everything that they produce. (For fuck's sake though, don't tell them that, you absolute troll.)

Creatives and creative teams also have their own taste, and that may conflict with yours. Especially with newer IP where you might want the same old same old and they need to evolved. Consumers of entertainment are remarkably resistant to creativity, innovation, and change (so oxymoronic) .

It's okay, maybe you'll like their next BL, song, book, painting, performance......

I have no idea how I got here but:

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

I do have some stuff on a queer lens here:

[prettywordsyouleft]

Every Damn Time

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: emotional angst-fluff

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: mentioning of declining health of side character, main protagonist is expressing their fears over it.

Word count: 659

Author’s Note: I wrote this back in January, when this situation happened to calm myself down from the fright of it all. Naturally, this piece is a little personal.

Jinyoung barely had a moment to react, and yet he did so instinctively. Catching you before you knocked both of you to the ground, he went to laugh and asked why you were so greedy for his embrace, only to stop himself when he felt your body shudder.

Instantly, he was on red alert. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Need you,” came out with a choked sob, and Jinyoung rearranged his hold on you.

He pulled you firmly against him, caging your shaking body so you felt protected and safe. And that was enough to unleash your emotions. It killed him to have no clue why you had entered his home and ran to him like this. He wanted to rage in your honour, ask who did this to you, uncover every little detail so he could put together a plan. So he could be the one to solve this and never let it make you break like this again.

But as he continued to hold you, rocking your body and letting out soothing noises, his mind came down from the height it had gone to.

Jinyoung had been working late yesterday and into the early hours of today, which wasn’t unusual for him, and he had almost sent you a message out of habit but realised the time was late. He remembered frowning when he had seen your last active time stamp to be after one am, yet he considered you probably had struggled to sleep and then fallen into slumber eventually.

But now he wasn’t so sure. What had kept you up so late into the night? He had his suspicions, and you finally confirmed them a moment later. “She fell.”

“How?”

“I’m not sure. I was in bed and woke to a loud bang. I thought it was one of the cats and went to check, but the TV had crashed into the wall and she was completely dazed,” you said quietly, not objecting when Jinyoung gently led you to the couch and pressed you down until you sat before he crouched down in front of you.

“She’s completely fine, well, a few bruises are going to come up, but I was just so scared. I keep having these moments where I get complacent with Mum’s illness and then she declines and something like this happens and I just—” Tears welled in your eyes and he reached forward to brush them aside, your watery gaze connecting with his. “It’s only going to get worse.”

“With time. Your mother has plenty of time still.”

“I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I could barely sleep worrying something would happen as she rested. I’ve made plans to move my things out to the study nook so I can be right there if she needs me. I’m going to have to monitor her closely. It all feels so overwhelming.”

“You should have rung me. I would have come over immediately. “

You sighed, nodding softly. “I wanted you there.”

“You needed me,” he corrected, and you nodded a second time.

“I always need you. I worry the strain I’m holding will end up breaking you when I lean on you.”

Slapping a shoulder, Jinyoung cracked a grin. “Why do you think I built these up?”

It delighted him when a small, exasperated smile curled up your lips. “You fool.”

“You need me at any time of the day or night, and you know I’ll be there.”

“Really?”

“What are boyfriends for if they can’t promise that?”

“To look pretty and carry heavy things?” You pretended to ponder, and Jinyoung tsked loudly before reaching for your hands, rubbing the coolness out of them.

“I don’t ever want to let you stress to the point of crashing into me like that again. But if it does happen, I’ll catch you, okay?”

“You’ll catch me?” you repeated, eyes wide with emotion.

His throat felt tight as he nodded. “Every damn time.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[GOT7 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist]

[skeren]

So like! I was tagging a cute post which I will state for the record has nothing to do with anything here and promptly leaped off the deep end all about my personal interpretation of ABO in the SVSSS universe. I quickly (after about ten long explainy tags) realized that these had nothing to do with the post at hand, so here I am, sharing with all of you instead.

Bonus! This, in many ways, fits very well with my whole Liu Mingyan is Liu Qingge's nascent soul and Ning Yingying is Yue Qingyuan's whole dealio that I made a post about a couple weeks ago. I will now explain.

First up, a little vocabulary for those who haven't gone researching the intricacies of ABO terminology in other languages. I'm gonna say though, I like the meanings of the ABO terms in Chinese better okay? So, quicklike, this is what me and my friend found when we went looking:

乾元 qianyuan = alpha 中庸 zhongyong = beta 坤泽 kunze = omega

I also linked the literal translations of the characters used for them for the curious. I do not, in fact, speak Chinese, before anyone comes for me. But back to the matter at hand now that everyone's on the same page! Sort of!

I already had my own ABO system but the version I went 'hey universe feel free to use this' is more of a general use case that I based initially on Marvel. My version for SVSSS has some similarities but I threw down some changes because, well, Shen Jiu.

I will explain. Basically, I do a crazy amount of RP in this fandom. I don't actually post much fic or anything for it, but I do a lot of stuff okay? It means me and my bestie have experimented. We've settled on some baseline stuff. One, PIDW is (most often) actually ABO from the get go because Airplane thought it was hilarious to get one over on his audience, since everyone has dicks. Everyone. All the genders have dicks. Male and female in this version of things only really exists for animals or the odd really unusual kind of demon.

Airplane just has a lot of really busty people with dicks, because while everyone has dicks, they also have the other half of that too. Everyone also has a vagina. See? Easy for him to play his readers if he just never mentions the dicks.

Anyway, Shen Jiu. In this nebulous situation we have a lot of overly elaborate backstory that's vaguely horrifying for Shen Jiu, because we love him and yadda yadda, things. Basically, he's a qianyuan who is 100% convinced he's a kunze because he had a baby (all those flowers that let ANYONE have babies still exist) but said baby very quickly died, in part because he really really didn't have any of the properly working infrastructure for that to actually produce a healthy child. The other half being that just because he was pregnant didn't mean he was treated any better. Thanks for nothing Qiu Jianluo, you are an awful awful person.

What did Qiu Jianluo do in this situation? Basically, our ABO folks don't actually get labeled with a gender officially until puberty. They can't. They have a facsimile of everything they need to be any of the three genders, after all, you can't just tell by looking! You have to wait!

Side note: People often do not wait and then get mad when their perfect son turns out to be a kunze, or their perfect daughter turns out to be a qianyuan. How dare you not conform to what I need for an heir/political marriage/whatever the heck other social plans some idiot might have wanted!! Also note, because of things like this there's a whole system in place for marrying off your foot bound qianyuan to a battle trained kunze to maintain an heirship in the intended line and stuff. It's awful but it is what it is.

Side to the side note: Three person relationships are considered the ideal, one of each sex, but harems still exist, obviously. It's PIDW.

Back to the point though! Qiu Jianluo, being unwilling to wait and risk -gasp- Shen Jiu possibly being a qianyuan, got his hands on some plants that would force a presentation. Namely, he wanted to put a baby in that and did his best to make Shen Jiu's body conform. It only worked... kinda. He sure looked more girly and things did their best.

Trauma all around.

But years later, this whole situation means that Shen Qingqiu is convinced his ruts (utterly debilitating, leaves him laid out and utterly completely miserable for days in horrible pain which is not normal for anyone) are heats. He is always jealous of kunze whose heats come and go just being overheated and sweaty, honestly. He always thinks he's going to die. Due to Reasons, in verses like this he often spends these with Shang Qinghua (who by our default is actually basically always Airplane with wildly divergent System/memory issues) who he at least trusts not to try anything. Up until he's mad at him for never trying anything. You're a healthy zhongyong! Disrespect him!

Spoiler: Shang Qinghua very rarely in these verses ever disrespects him without outside intervention. Does this cause problems with Mobei-jun?! No, not really, since to him Shen Qingqiu is a perfectly normal (if extreme) qianyuan for his zhongyong and he's a healthy kunze. That seems very balanced and fortuitous to him. (He's less pleased when some other kunze swoops in and steals march on him though.)

So, that's the Shen Jiu side. Which let me tell you, is hilarious when Shen Yuan comes in to take over and be Shen Qingqiu because that guy doesn't even notice he's got a vagina for... a while, typically. And once he does he's just 'huh, this explains so much' and just assumes what he's got in his pants is the weird stuff. However, this also makes Binghe's life both easier and harder at least because Shen Yuan's forever misogyny at least works with him for once. Kinda. Vaguely. In an awkwardly 'I want to shake Shizun' kind of way.

Which brings me to Binghe! Oh Binghe, you early bloomer you. We make him a kunze. Because he's a half demon kunze, however, his day to day bodily presentation is more masculine. Demons have that whole 'the girls are bigger than the boys' thing going on like birds do. They guard the home territory while the qianyuan go out and fight things. Kunze are supposed to be bigger and have a better body for carrying babies after all. Gonna fight real good. Also, big dicks to subdue a rowdy qianyuan putting up a fuss about this or that so that the kunze in question can get their way? Perfectly sensible.

Anyway, little Bunhe starts having heats at twelve, and due to him being ten when his mom died, did not actually get a proper explanation on how he can tell what the heck is going on. Ning Yingying is the one who finds him and explains, and then proceeds to keep it a secret because she only ended up on this peak at all because Shizun's last kunze student was sent off to Qian Cao by the sect leader. No, she has no idea why. She was a Smol.

Everyone knows about it though. Shizun was very upset and it's how he got Ning Yingying in trade, after all. Which relates back to the Yue Qingyuan Nascent Soul thing because he put her on his Xiao Jiu's peak at the first opportunity and look! He kept her! (Nevermind how possessive this man is. He'd keep anything and fight for it too whether he liked it or not.)

Anyway, so Ning Yingying, liking Binghe very much, kept this a secret. Bunhe didn't realize the woodshed had scent suppressors from his Shizun's time there (generational trauma for everyone) but he did know that it sure the heck felt safer than trying and failing to sleep in either of the dorms.

Though, it got increasingly rankling when years later Ning Yingying started coming around on his heat days to try to get him to let her in. What with her being a qianyuan and all. He was Not Amused. He wanted to marry Shizun and he didn't care if it made him super gay! (It would not but it's not like he had any reason to know that).

Anyway, years later, Sha Hualing does her thing! Sha Hualing is very quintessentially a demon qianyuan! Pretty, flashy, light on her feet, smaller and faster than a kunze would be! She wants very much to impress all the pretty kunzes! She's got the spirit but doesn't realize most of the people she thinks are kunze are human qianyuan. She's a demon used to demons, she'll figure it out eventually.

Side note about that: A lot of the reasons demons seem to kidnap men so often is because they think they're kunze. there is a lot of confusion and rancor on both sides about all of this. Also, zhongyong are the most highly prized among demons as they don't really have many. That's mostly a human thing.

Of course, the other 'qianyuan' she fights is Liu Mingyan! Who is... actually a kunze, so sorry, you'll figure that out eventually too, dear sweet confused demon girl. All in all, a very big day for a young demon Saintess.

It should be noted that due to how gender and sex works in this situation, and the inability to tell the sex of a child who might go to Xian Shu, people there are less 'all kunze' so much as 'all feminine.' You will commit to the lifestyle or you don't get to live on that peak! Be pretty, be fabulous, be graceful, and above all, learn the feminine arts! Have issues growing a nice bosom? We'll teach you how to dress to hide that and fill it out.

Anyway.

Circling around and around again to that Nascent soul thing. Thought I forgot didn't you? Liu Mingyan is a kunze. So, well, doesn't it just track that by that logic so is Liu Qingge? Which means that he's a pretty slender person who mostly bounces off to the wilderness so that everyone continues to assume he's a qianyuan and doesn't try to stick him in a box and guard him like they keep trying to do to Shen Qingqiu. Noooo thank you very much. He'll never have a heat where any of you people will hear about it, that's for damn sure.

But, you know, all in all, just some thoughts, nothing detailed, about my take on SVSSS ABO. Questions, comments, additions? I'm curious.

[diazfox]

(A tentative guess about your BuckTommy vs Buddie post)

I guess a big part of it is because it's canon ? It's canon and it seems to work, and it seems to be make Buck calm and fluffy and happy in a healthy way, which is what a lot (all ?) of us want. So we can get behind that, for now.

Your "why not a similar support behind his exes / fetishizing MM relationship" question is valid and i think the difference is because it's the first time someone Buck dates seems to really fit with him without having something that we can pre-shot is going to be a problem, and the first time he goes into a relationship (getting myself ahead of things there) without it being to heal something in him ? And as I've read other people point out, Tommy's not silo-ed out, he has a backstory with the Begins episodes, he is friends with some of the 118, so it makes him less of a plot device than Buck's female exes.

And about the second part, the fetishizing part, i think sadly it's just a real thing that happens here, on tumblr and in fandom spaces : men are seen enjoying being together and fandom smooches them together together. One could even argue that it's the same for Buddie, wanting them to be together together when canon just factually says they are BFFs. I don't think anyone is erasing anything, but all that is canon about Buddie is that they are BFFs (a lot can be read as more that friends but ultimately it's with shipping goggles on, only - i'm not a very optimistic person, though).

I guess some of us think that if they didn't make Buddie happen for this long, then it may be because it is meant to stay on the fandom shipping side ? And we're given this incredible chance to have a canon lgbt character with an unusual story of self-discovery that doesn't happen a lot in tv shows so we're just enthusiastic to go with the flow ?

And if it turns out that the writers have the guts to get Eddie his own self-discovery journey, and if that later leads to Buddie happening somehow, then I think all BuckTommy shippers will be glad that it finally happened, and that it is canon, and is finally the Truth.

damn, thanks for your insight! i do see how things being canon and properly canon (like Tommy having a "backstory") can cause shifts in perspectives looking into the future.

i 100% understand why some might think buddie is a form of fetishization too. ngl i've seen strong arguments like "why can't 2 male characters share a strong emotional bond platonically? why does it have to lead to romance?" i guess my main reason for bringing up fetishization with respect to bucktommy is the fact that they are quite lacking in the "strong emotional bond" department. so it feels pretty much like "2 hot guys kissing and touching each other hell yeah" to me.

but i realise i'm overlooking the fact that this is bi buck's first relationship, though. i forgot to consider the fact that majority of this support for tommy comes from the fact that this is the first love interest of buck's to whom he can give all of himself and get twice as much with all the freedom in the world AS A BI MAN. thank u for putting me on to the fact that i've been misinterpreting this enthusiasm to some degree.

thats not to say that just bc something is canon or just a headcanon everything is set in stone. writers and actors themselves have made it very clear time and time again that audience reactions and engagement matters when it comes to plot development. in your own line of thought, right until 7x 03 they didn't make bi Buck happen for so long. so would u say it was meant to stay merely on the fandom shipping side? i just think the possibilities are endless, and maybe we as a fandom can try to have a bit more resilience to see through fan-originated storylines instead of a "i'll just go with whatever is canon bc it's easier" ethic.

[bobvarioa]

personal post warning

what even is gender?

i've struggled with that question a lot over the past few years, maybe even my entire life, so i've come to the place with a whole bunch of genderqueer people from all around the globe

i'm amab, and ever since i've learned more about being queer, i've identified as GNC.

but, that's kinda a lie? because well, i don't feel any connection to any gender at all, or at least i don't really get what people mean when they *feel* male or female or nonbinary

and well, how can you really be GNC if you don't know what you're not confirming to?

my whole life i've just felt like certain parts or characteristics of people are cool and i wish i had them, i.e. tits

i've worn prosthetic tits whenever i feel like it for about a year now, and i enjoy wearing them

i enjoy wearing skirts and women's underwear

so, cool, all fem stuff, hell im even a programmer, im probably transfem?

but i don't really want to be girl particularly, nor do i feel any sort of dysphoria with my masculine traits

i quite like having a beard, and while i haven't known life without it in quite a while, i don't really want to get rid of it

i like having a dick too lol

so, got it, a bi crossdressing man, that's not too unusual all things considered

but i don't think that tells the whole story? whenever someone calls me a girl, i feel good about it, like i accomplished something

i also go by any pronouns because being feminine or masculine doesn't bother me at all

and my friends have a nickname for me that's more gender neutral than my birth name, which i like quite a lot

so thus led me to my initial conclusion that im gender non conforming, i don't fit into any box nicely, so ill just say im somewhere between it all

not outside of it all or completely neutral, but in between

but i *still* feel like that doesn't tell the whole story

because that doesn't touch on why i do the genderqueer things i do, like for example

a transfem person will go against their birth gender because they don't feel like it suits them; they feel uncomfortable in their own body

a crossdresser dresses up to play a character, they still feel happy in their own body and don't (usually) feel strongly attached to their persona

i don't really think there's a similar reason why im GNC, and it feels almost out of necessity as there's not a good way to describe how i feel

i do understand that labels aren't everything, but i want to figure out how other similar people interact with gender, what gender means to others, etc

and most of all, i just want to figure out deep down why i do all this, and frankly i don't think i can answer that question without some guidance, i just like wearing tits :P

[rpmemesbyarat]

I think there tends to be a perception that any work of fiction more than a few decades old is going to be riddled with cliches as well as full of horrifically outdated societal ideals. And I’m not going to say that’s completely incorrect, but it’s also not the case for many works either, including some of the most famous and formative ones.

For instance, let’s take fantasy.

The film “Willow” came out in 1988. It looks like it’s just going to be a straight Chosen One story. The evil queen is killing all the baby girls in the land looking for the one with the super special birthmark who is destined to defeat her, but the fated baby is smuggled away from her clutches just in time, and is found floating down a riverbank. I thought I was going to watch her grow up, discover her destiny and probably some special powers or swordfighting abilities she beats two-dimensional sexist boys with, and journey to heroically slay the queen in an epic showdown. But nope. She’s not named Willow, and she’s not the protagonist, and none of that happens.

The lead, Willow, is the father of the children who find her. They’re little people, and all played by actual little people. So right off the bat, we’ve got a disabled protagonist played by a disabled actor, and he encounters a lot of prejudice for it outside his village. He’s also unusual in that he’s a married father with kids, not some young attached swashbuckler/prince/pirate/etc. He very much WANTS to be a great sorcerer, but shows no actual magic talent. However, he is good at sleight of hand, such as his “diseappearing pig” trick. . . which ends up being his trump card at the climax with which he tricks the evil queen. But that’s just a distraction; the person who has a super badass magical fight with the evil queen isn’t him OR the baby, it’s an elderly sorceress he meets along the way who has beef with her. So the two absolute powerhouses of the movie who go head to head are two WOMEN, and not sexualized ones either. Granted, it’s hard to get more cliche than “evil sorceress queen” but her throwing down with the old crone was VERY unexpected for me! And the other lead female character is the queen’s badass daughter, a powerful fighter who begins on her side but sides with the heroes by the end.

But it’s not the old lady who defeats the queen either; she defeats herself when she tries to kill the baby, setting up a ritual to do so. When Willow tricks her into thinking he made the baby disappear and she moves towards him, she accidentally completes said ritual, causing it to destroy her as the target instead. At not one point in all of this did that baby ever show ANY magical powers or inclination of a special destiny; none of this would have happened if the queen hadn’t believed in this prophecy, for which there really was no proof, and acted accordingly. . . which is a piece of advice I’ve seen many a writer give for how to do the “Chosen One” trope well. And again, this movie was in 1988, predating all these writing blogs and advice channels. And what’s more, Willow doesn’t get real magic in the nick of time, there’s no Deus Ex Machina, he uses his own cleverness and the stage tricks he WORKED for. I really loved that. Again, it’s like something a modern writing blog would say they would totally love to see happen sometime!

The Last Unicorn film came out in 1982, but the novel was written in 1968. And yet, it averts a great many cliches about fantasy and gender in fantasy. The lead is female, and her motive has nothing to do with men. She has agency and takes action, and is very strong while not needing to make a big deal out of being “not like other girls” to do it (though she is definitely NOT like other girls, as she’s a unicorn in human form!) for this strength. We see her fend off a harpy, fight back against the Red Bull, and it’s mentioned she’s killed dragons before as well. Plus, she comes back in the sequel “Two Hearts” to finish off a griffin. Yet at no point is she an obnoxious edgy girlboss who shits on feminity; she’s in fact very feminine if she’s anything. And she does fall in love with a man, and this does have a big impact on her, but he’s not what her quest is about, and she in fact has to choose to give up being with him to complete that quest, and leaves him entirely at the end.

She also passes the Bechdel test; she talks with the witchy Mommy Fortuna who kidnaps her, trying to persuade her to free another female monster, the aforementioned harpy. And while she talk to her woman friend Molly about her love interest, their most iconic conversation is their first, and very feminist one, in which Molly angrily sobs demanding to know why the unicorn only came to her now, when she is no longer the innocent young maiden that unicorns are SUPPOSED to come to, but instead a haggard middle-aged woman who has been living with the leader of a bunch of bandits in the woods. Definitely not a demure virgin like the mythos say unicorns love. And yet, implicitly, the unicorn does not care.

And, of course, the unicorn saves herself at the end, and all the other unicorns in the world. It never presents itself as a feminist story, and I don’t think it was intended as such, but it sure qualifies in a number of categories.

For the final example, there’s The Lord of the Rings, written in the mid-50s. I actually haven’t read this series. But what I can comment on is something that was pointed out by someone on Tumblr (alas, I cannot remember the URL) that what so many of Tolkien’s imitators get wrong is they think that Aragorn is the protagonist, and make their Aragorn rip-off be so, but that actually the protagonist was Frodo, the literal little guy, the humblest of creatures, with no magic or fighting skills, and that this was the point. And I think that’s really interesting, that the father of modern fantasy and all its cliches, actually averted this cliche; it was only his many copycats that made it one.

These works were not, of course, perfect in other ways. There’s nary a scrap of POC or LGBT rep to be found in them that I know of. But they’re also far from cliche-storms in which every character is a cardboard cutout stock type and which every plot point is easily predicted either.

So, what is my point to this post?

It’s that older works are worth reading, or watching. Especially the genre-defining ones. These are some of the most famous, most far-reaching works of the fantasy genre in modern times, and that’s because they were GOOD. It’s not even about the box-checking aspect either; The Last Unicorn is heart-breakingly beautiful writing with a story and lines that make me more emotional than any other work ever has, book and film. Willow is a jolly good watch. The Lord of the Rings…ok, I’ll level with you, I just couldn’t get into it, that’s why I didn’t read it, but its significance to the fantasy genre is undeniable, and just because it wasn’t for me doesn’t mean it isn’t worth YOU giving it a shot. But so many people are just so sure that anything from before 2000 must be unoriginal, problematic garbage, and that’s reductive as well.

Besides the fact you’re missing out on things you might enjoy, reading within your genre is especially essential if you plan to WRITE in it, in my opinion. Whether this is fantasy, romance, sci-fi, horror, or something else, it is WORTH reading the masters. It is also worth familiarizing yourself with what’s ACTUALLY cliche, and what’s a DEAD UNICORN TROPE—I’ve read waaaay too many people who wrote what they clearly THOUGHT were very clever satires, but the things they were making fun of were never actually that prevalent in the genre to begin with, people just THOUGHT they were (ex: How many stories out there are there REALLY of princesses being rescued by dragons? Actually very few. But everyone lampshades it and references it and so on!) So it’s also worth reading what’s been done before if your plan is to parody, or satire, or deconstruct, or just do something new—that way, what you write will actually BE something new, instead of the eleven millionth author who thinks their protagonist is SO UNIQUE because they are a GIRL who FIGHTS omg!!

A lot of writers, both professional and aspiring, fear consuming work within their own genre, worried that they will be subconsciously influenced by it. They want their work to be wholly original, from their own imagination entirely. While I respect their choice, I also disagree that being inspired from other works is a bad thing. Inspiration doesn’t mean a direct copy. Indeed, I think people should in general stop stressing whether their work is a perfect unique snowflake untouched by any outside influence. All of us are influenced by something or other. And that’s fine. Every great work that you love was influenced by something else, consciously or subconsciously. Can you imagine if Neil Gaiman had decided NOT to write American Gods, and his own depictions of Odin and Loki, because he was a fan of Thor comics as a child (it’s what got him into actual Norse mythology!) and was worried that Jack Kirby’s version of the gods would influence his own? Ridiculous! Heck, I think it’s good to be inspired! To get ideas from other things! You just have to make them your own! And if there’s one thing that humans are goshdarn good at, it’s putting our own new spin on something we heard! That’s been how storytelling has worked since it begun!

And heck, why stop at reading the greats? Read the obscures and the flops! Read the worst shit in the genre! See what NOT to do, and think how you could do it better, and get the grain of a story from that! Get ideas from works in the genre that are forgotten or under-known! Use ideas from these that so many others have slept on, and expand them! For instance, look at the vampires of Paul Feval rather than Stoker or Le Fanu, for instance—if THEY had been the major media influences for Hollywood’s vampires, what would our modern depictions of these creatures be like? Use that as a jumping point for YOUR take on them!

Anyway, that’s all. I’m going to go watch The Dark Crystal now.

[rose-riot-johnson]

Hello it’s me again! May I request gang orca x reader angst to fluff? Simply put, orca has a really bad night, and when he comes home he doesn’t tell the reader. (They are married, 2 years in the making. And have dated for a year). The reader tries to get him to talk while she patches up some of his wounds, but he doesn’t spill the beans. They sleep, and then in the morning the reader sees orca not getting up even after his alarm rang, and is trapped in one of his huge hugs. She gets him to tell her everything and in the end, Kugo reports to the press on the status of the captured heroes turned villains.

This request does sound interesting to write about and I mean with any character, especially Gang Orca😃👍It may take time for me to complete this particular request, however this requested fanfic definitely will be something fun to work on😁👍 And hopefully it will be okay to write the reader as female rights once again😅😃👍I figured I'd let you know that if I do take a while to complete this request, it's due to a busy schedule and stuff😅

💙🩵Gang Orca Had A Bad Night🩵💙(Kugo Sakamata, aka, Gang Orca x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst To Fluff

Eversince both you and Gang Orca has a relationship together, even a year before the two years of marriage (and after that), the both of you had together, the both of you have been an open book to eachother. Unfortunately one night wasn't the night, as your husband, Gang Orca came home showing some signs that he had a bad night and he didn't even spoke a word to you, after coming back home. You noticed that his wounds needed to be tooken cared of as you said, "I will get the bandages and stuff to take care of your wounds... I will be back, Orca...", as you went to find the bandages and other stuff you might need to take care of his wounds.

While you were patching up Gang Orca's wounds, you mentioned, "From the sight of your wounds, your unusual quietness, and other things about you... I'm noticing you were having a rough night, especially while on duty...", as you then asked, "Anyways, is there anything you would like to tell me, Orca?". He still never spoke a word to you after you tried asking him to tell you what happened to him. Once you finished patching up his wounds, you watched him go straight to bed.

You sensed that Gang Orca has been bottling things up, as you knew deep down that he's not just hurt on the outside and he's keeping things inside of his chest. You didn't press on, because you were worried that it would cause a huge fight that will hurt your marriage with Orca and that he would yell at you, so you decided to let him be until you were sure he was asleep. You went to sleep in the same bed he shares with you, not knowing he's not actually sleeping. Seriously... He has ways of making sure you don't know he's still awake, for some reason. Eventually you fall asleep and Gang Orca actually falls asleep.

Next morning, the alarm clock was ringing nonstop and after ten minutes you woke up and began to realize that Orca is still in the bed even all those minutes after the alarm rang, however you realized before you woke up that must have turned over to face you while you were still sleeping. The next thing you have also realized was he has you in a huge hug tight enough to keep you in the bed and to help him(self) feel safe. At that moment, you knew he was awake, as you then finally convinced him to tell you what happened that was bothering him that night, so not too long afterwards due to your encouragement he finally reported to the press pertaining a status of the villains who used to be heroes (which are heroes turned villains)

Eversince then, Gang Orca never had to be afraid to tell you anything again and this means you won't have to worry about the consequences of showing concern for him. Your relationship and marriage with him grew much stronger for it (everything that happened in this fanfic). Your cuddle night with Gang Orca has even became an every night tradition for the both of you.

🩵💙The End💙🩵

I hope you enjoyed this fanfic my Tumblr Peeps😃👍As for you @watergod57-69 , I hope i dif well with the request😅😃👍It may took a while to complete this request, however I hope I've written enough for this request😅👍Anyways I hope reading this fanfic makes your day and/or night💙🩵🩵💙☀️🌕😃👍

[captcutshaw]

That thing you said about Bruce Robinson stating that Withnail and Marwood not having girlfriends, because they are poor. That’s really funny and it does make sense! However, it’s really noticeable, if you’re used to forced heterosexual references in buddy films, that women as a whole are never mentioned by the two, never mind attraction to them. The closest we get to this are pictures of women in their walls, but most of these are press photos of actresses. As Withnail and Marwood are thespians, it looks like their interest is an artistic, rather than sexual. And as you pointed out, the only sort of attraction referenced is homosexual. As you rightfully said, Marwood comes across as almost absurdly afraid of it, but interestingly never asserts heterosexuality to compensate, as many characters in similar films do. I’m a big dummy when it come to reading films properly, but it’s interesting that while none of these things alone make Withnail and Marwood explicitly queer (gay, bisexual, asexual, etc), there is absolutely zero effort spent on trying to convince you they are straight. If it took an interview to bring it up, Bruce Robinson probably just did not think it relevant. Again, the relationship between them is treated with greater importance. Of course, we are not sure by the end that it is completely platonic, and I don’t know how intentional that was (definitely was on the part of Richard E. Grant) but the point still stands. Sorry, this is such a long message, I hope it makes sense!

Absolutely! Thank you so much for sending me this, you've given me an excuse to go off on a rant. I've put some of my own ramblings and scattered thoughts under the cut. Sorry in advance for a complete lack of coherence.

Totally agree that it's unusual for a buddy film to have Marwood simply deny he's homosexual, then not show any interest in women to prove his point. No aggressive assertions of heterosexuality or forced female love interest, hell, no mention of women whatsoever (Mrs Parkin doesn't count)

I know he's essentially Bruce Robinson's self insert, hence Marwood being sexually harassed by Monty, who was based on Franco Zeffirelli, the director who sexually harassed Bruce Robinson (sorry if I'm just saying stuff you already know here). But yeah, Marwood isn't an aggressively heterosexual character, which makes him very inviting for a queer reading, among the various other reasons. I mean....look at him. Tboy swag off the charts.

I could list all the queer codings and references in the film but we would be here forever. Don't even get me started on all the ways Withnail is easy to read as queer. But yeah, in summary, I agree with your point that the complete lack of heterosexual attraction in the film can support that queer interpretation.

That's a good point that the photos of women/actresses in their flat could be purely for aesthetic reasons because they're thespians.

As for Bruce Robinson's intentions.... There was an interview where someone asked if Withnail was gay, which Bruce Robinson and Richard E. Grant refuted (timestamp about 21:09). Here Robinson actually jokingly (?) says he thinks Withnail is asexual because he only loves himself.... asexuality isn't caused by narcissism, but hot take!

So, Withnail was never intended to be homosexual. Which is crazy to me, what with... Withnail being Withnail. There is no possible heterosexual explanation for that man's behaviour!! And it's telling that so many people have seen the film and thought he was gay. But good news! Paul McGann has made a lot of comments about Marwood and Withnail being "young marrieds" in his commentary of the film. Also, in this interview (timestamp 6:58) he says Withnail was probably in love with Marwood. Big win for the gays. Overall, Bruce Robinson did not intend for Withnail and Marwood to be read as queer, but everyone say thank you to Paul McGann. Thank you Paul McGann

(Goes without saying, the creator's intentions don't prevent people from interpreting the film the way they want to. Death to the author etc etc. I've always liked to see Marwood and Withnail as queer because that adds another layer of meaning and just....makes sense if you ask me. Their relationship is compelling, platonic or otherwise. I personally found that it doesn't make sense for either of them to be 100% heterosexual, and asexual or bisexual readings are really cool as well.)

(On that note, not sure if it's worth mentioning... I read here that Vivian MacKerrell, the man Withnail was based on, was bisexual. So. There's that. Bisexual Withnail 2023)

[toujokaname]

Card shuffle / Episode 8

Author: Akira

Characters: AkanP, HiMERU, Kohaku, Niki, Mayoi, Tatsumi, Aira, Rinne, Hiiro

"Um. Shiina-san. I know you're hungry, but please don't eat my haaair."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: MDM Stage

AkanP: Hmmm~...? Everyone, it looks like you don't understand this project as much as I thought you would? What should I do?

HiMERU: It's more accurate to say we "haven't been told" rather than implying we "don't understand." Please don't insinuate that the fault lies with us.

AkanP: Sure. But, um, since it's almost time for the show, you'll have to understand quickly, okay? I know you might not get the difficult stuff, but I'll explain it properly ♪

HiMERU: .........

Kohaku: I can practically hear HiMERU-han's stress gauge shootin' through the roof...

HiMERU: It's okay. Thanks to Shiina, HiMERU is used to his goodwill going to waste.

Niki: And so I'm the one who takes the brunt of it...!

HiMERU: If you can't do anything else, won't you at least be an outlet for stress relief?

Niki: Uwaaah! Mayo-chaaan, HiMERU-kun's bullying me~!

Mayoi: Hwehh?! Wh, wh-why are you coming to me for comfort? It's not like we're supposed to be particularly close or anything, right?!

Tatsumi: ...Actually, an explanation is in order. At the risk of repeating the same question over and over, how exactly will the Matrix matches function?

Our precious friends, including Mayoi-san, are also feeling anxious about it.

Mayoi: Ah, y-yes, unusually aggressive speech from Tatsumi-san... Even though he usually has the aura of a holy, loving figure, being neglected like this must be stressful.

Niki: *Munch munch munch ♪*

Mayoi: Um. Shiina-san. I know you're hungry, but please don't eat my haaair.

HiMERU: Apologies, our dog misbehaved.

Aira: I could run and grab something to munch on?

Rinne: Akan-san's gonna explain anyway, so just shut it and listen, okay?

AkanP: Right. It'll be quick, so bear with me a moment. Here, umm, Sheena-san[1]? Sheena-san, here's some candy for you ♪

HiMERU: You're in the middle of work, why do you carry such a thing with you?

AkanP: When you have little kids around, it's inevitable...

I basically only produce girls in ES, but surprisingly, sometimes blunders can be smoothed over with a sweet treat.

HiMERU: Female idols, you say. They don't get recognized at all in ES, which is why useless producers are pushed on to them.

AkanP: Please don't call me useless~... It hurts my feelings.

So, um, it's been a while since I've produced boys, so please forgive me if I make any mistakes.

HiMERU: (Been a while? Does that mean it's not the first time?)

(Well, despite seeming young, only an experienced producer could accumulate so many negative rumors...?)

AkanP: At any rate... I didn't have enough time to work out the details of Matrix, but as I was struggling with that, a very talented girl helped me out.

Her name's Anzu-chan, do you know her?

Hiiro: Of course. It'd be rarer to find someone in ES who doesn't know her.

Aira: ES takes pride in her being a super talented producer, after all!

AkanP: Right, it's amazing for such a young girl... Well, she said she'd help me, so I asked her to think about the details of the competition.

So, I think we're pretty much on track there, right?

HiMERU: Anzu-san must be very busy with her change in position starting in the new fiscal year, and yet she has been burdened with all this unnecessary work...

Niki: Change in position? Really? Where does HiMERU-kun always get that kinda information?

HiMERU: Primarily from the well-informed Deputy Director, but also from HiMERU's own personal research. He's rather adept at that sort of thing and enjoys it.

Rinne: Yup, the Great Detective Crazy:B's proud of ♪

AkanP: Hehe. So, um, what was I saying...? Right, this Matrix is set up as a fateful showdown between Crazy:B and ALKALOID

These two rookie units will compete to see which are the superior idols.

Tatsumi: Although there's nothing fateful about it. Well, I understand the point.

HiMERU: There is a lot of personal history involved, however.

AkanP: Yup. So, um, what did Anzu-chan say again...

Oh, right. Maybe the challenge in this Matrix contest should center on proving one's prowess as an idol.

By pitting idols against each other like this, we'll find out who truly excels at it, right? Um, do you understand what I'm saying?

Tatsumi: Prowess as an idol? Yet another vague statement...?

AkanP: To be specific, see, this time it's supposed to be ten matches. Well, I mean, I made the call on that.

So, in Matrix, I'd like to ask you to compete with the ten elements necessary to be an idol.

Aira: The ten elements necessary to be an idol?

AkanP: Yeah. Um, for example, in the first match, you'll compete in "singing ability." There's also, uh, what else, "acting ability" and "attractiveness"—

Basically, each match will test those ten crucial elements for idols.

After ten matches, the unit with the most wins will be considered the superior idols.

Aira: It's kinda rude to call it surprising, but it does sound surprisingly interesting. Feels like some sort of variety show.

AkanP: Right? Sounds fun, doesn't it? It's amazing, really, how the plan started getting interesting after Anzu-chan chimed in—

She's been a big help! I'll have to buy her dinner or something later.

HiMERU: At this stage, are you really making her help you free of charge...

AkanP: She's the type of girl to decline compensation... She's not assertive at all. Hehehe, she reminds me of my younger days.

HiMERU: Isn't it a rather disturbing future prospect for a talented producer to end up as a landmine producer...?

[ ☆ ]

AkanP says "Shiina" in hiragana instead of kanji, indicating some stiltedness in the way it's said.

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