#I do have characters I don't like and ships I don't like but you'll never knooooowwwww

[david-blackthorn]

I havnt read those books in the shadowhunter chronicles yet, what are your favorite things about them? (Im curious whether I should read them or not since I have such a big tbr already)

Oh maaan you're in for a ride

I have no idea which series in the Shadowhunter Universe you meant exactly but i'll start with my fav

Part I:

The Dark Artifices:

Do you ever feel like your soul needs a good mix of romantic pining, chaotic battles, and emotional devastation? The Dark Artifices is calling your name.

But seriously if you love stories that combine heart-pounding action, deep family bonds, and characters so real you’ll find yourself thinking about them long after you've finished the books? This is the series for you!

This series follows a family of Shadowhunters in sunny Los Angeles (yes, there are beaches AND demon fights) as they deal with forbidden love, ancient laws that make no sense, and plot twists that will leave you staring at the ceiling at 3 AM like: what just happened.

It’s got:

Two people who can’t be together because of reasons but have enough chemistry to destroy you.

A goofy warlock with more secrets than anyone is ready for.

A soft boy who paints and probably writes poetry but will absolutely murder you if you hurt his siblings and childhood friend.

A broody faerie loner who says “I work alone” but would probably die for his friends.

“I would die for my siblings, but also, they’re so annoying” energy.

Found-family dynamics that will have you texting your friends, “DO YOU SEE THIS?”

And, of course, the *painful but addictive* mix of love, loyalty, and chaos...

Enemies-to-lovers? No, wait—friends-to-lovers? Actually, it’s more like "reluctantly obsessed but too emotionally constipated to say it."

Three people staring dramatically at each other like ‘Is this polyamory or a REALLY complicated love triangle?

Characters who will make you scream, “JUST COMMUNICATE,” but you’ll love them anyway.

Enough family angst to fuel a therapy session for years.

A genius, autistic boy who solves mysteries but can’t solve the mystery of his own feelings

Main characters? Let’s just say there’s a parabatai bond that’s more complicated than your high school crush.

The plot? Fast-paced, full of betrayal, and packed with vicious fight scenes.

The family? Everything is fine...except when it’s not.

The romance? You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll probably scream and definitely ship things that should not be shipped. :)

Basically a murder mystery, faerie politics, and the most relatable struggle of all: Trying to keep your family alive and well while the world is falling apart.

Fair warning: you’ll never emotionally recover (and you’ll love every second).

part II:

The Mortal Instruments:

If you’re looking for a fast-paced urban fantasy series full of adventure, humor, and heart, you need to pick up The Mortal Instruments.

It’s got everything: shadowy secrets, epic battles, forbidden love, and enough twists and turns to keep you hooked from start to finish. Plus, the friendships and family bonds will hit you right in the feels.

If you like:

Hot people with emotional trauma

Family dynamics so messy even you would say "y’all need therapy"

Enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-allies-to-love(maybe) but make it *gay*

Bonus gay dads with actual functional communication (because someone has to balance the chaos)

A love triangle that's not technically a triangle, but don't worry, it'll still destroy your soul

If you do then babe, let me introduce you to The Mortal Instruments:

It’s like Twilight, but everyone fights better is hotter and has sarcasm set to ✨maximum damage✨.

You'll question the characters' life choices, then realize your own aren’t much better.

There’s an overachieving golden boy with a superiority complex who definitely Googles his own name but is secretly baby.

A girl who just wants to vibe and maybe not be surrounded by apocalypses, but alas.

A cinnamon roll nerd who says, “I don’t want to be here,” but somehow ends up saving the day every time.

And a guy who walks in like: "I’m too goth for this mess," but then adopts everyone and pays for dinner.

The Mortal Instruments is what happens when an ex fanfic writer starts a writing carrier and makes a book series: chaotic, emotional, weirdly self-aware, and packed with heart. Read it. Your inner emo kid will thank you.

Bonus:

The plot? Like Supernatural on speed.

The dialogue? Whedon-esque but with more sass per square inch.

The drama? Every fanfic writer wishes they wrote this level of ✨chaotic bisexual disaster energy✨.

If this sounds appealing, congratulations! This series was literally written for you.

part III:

The Infernal Devices:

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare is an absolute gem of a series, blending romance, adventure, and a touch of Victorian-era steampunk. If you love books with unforgettable characters, heart-wrenching love triangles (in the best way), and a beautifully atmospheric setting, this is the series for you.

It’s full of witty banter, emotional depth, and a story that stays with you long after you turn the last page. Trust me—there’s no ‘right’ team to root for, but you’ll love every moment of trying to decide.

The plot? Wild.

The romance? Devastating.

The side characters? Hot, chaotic, and probably more interesting than the main ones in most other books you’ve read.

Let’s not forget:

The Victorian Aesthetic™ (it’s giving Pinterest board).

A robot army that would make Skynet say, “You okay, bro?”

Poetry recitals that feel like life-or-death declarations.

And more tragic backstories than a Shakespearean play.

It's got:

a steampunk version of London where demons and shadowhunters roam the cobblestone streets, and your biggest problem isn’t the fog, but the ✨existential dread✨.

There’s a protagonist who just wanted to read books but accidentally became the center of everyone’s emotional drama (relatable queen).

A golden retriever boy who’s so perfect it physically hurts and is slowly dying.

And a sad boy™️ who looks like he stepped straight out of a My Chemical Romance album, only with a reading obsession.

A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Friendships so deep they’ll make you scream, “WHY CAN’T THE WORLD LET THEM BE HAPPY?”

A heroine who’s like, ‘Do I choose the guy who might secretly hate himself more than anyone else alive, or the literal angel in human form?’ (Spoiler: she chooses both. Iconic.)

Brooding boys who quote poetry in life-or-death situations (because of course they do).

*A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Start with Clockwork Angel and get ready to laugh, cry, and ugly sob over Will, Jem, and Tessa. But be warned: this series will RUIN you in the most beautiful way possible.

I won't write a summary of The Last Hours since i haven't finished it yet sorry babes, but hope you liked these *mwa*

[triaelf9]

you know what, I think I've worked out why I'm cool with some folks hating a character I like, or liking a character I hate, or liking hating a ship I like/hate etc and I think it's HOW they approach it

Is their beef with the character/ship? or have they made it about the people who like/hate the character/ship?

like "I hate Bungles, he's such a CREEP" as apposed to "everyone who likes Bungles is a ding dong and clearly has terrible taste in partners b/c they like BUNGLES like come ON who likes BUNGLES?? MORONS??"

It's the turning it into a moral thing, the "ooh I'm better b/c I hate Bungles" thing I think that ticks me off. Going after real life ppl b/c you hate (or like!) a fictional character so much "Anyone who hates Bungles should DIE" like oof, no thanks. Turning into a purity/clout/moralistic war where you attack features and traits of folks is I think where I draw the line.

Otherwise, I think I've grown into being able to be fine with ppl hating my favs/liking my hates, even if I might not connect on every point. Now THAT'S something we can agree to disagree on XD (and not like "I don't agree you're trans" or other shit things ppl try to use that phrase for lol)

[curiouschaosstarlight]

person #1: "[character i really love] should die violently!"

me: okay, bye

person #2: "i love this character!"

person #2: "[other character i really love] should die violently!"

me:

[love-strikes-thrice]

[Image Description: screenshot of Tumblr tags on light mode.

Tags read:

Getting real suspicious about the conflation of fantasy with reality in fandom.

"You must only read good and pure things! Otherwise you're secretly evil (smiley face)" is the song of book burners and history revisionists.

The growing number of fans treating shipping as a sign of moral purity is troubling at best and terrifying at worst.

Never trust someone who tells you to police your thoughts.

Never trust someone who tells you that bad thoughts are the same as bad actions.

And most of all.

Never trust a purity spiral.

Fandom

ID End]

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[allastoredeer]

Hello, don't mind me, I just need to vent for a second.

First off, I just wanna say, as an aroace person on the ace-spectrum, feel free to ship Alastor all you want. Ship him with anyone. Have fun with it. Sex repulsed. Non-sex repulsed. Grey-ace. Demisexual. Pure unadulterated smut. Whatever, have at it. I love that shit.

Just please do it without infantilizing ace-aro people.

The amount of art, fics, and takes I've come across that's so patronizing to Alastor and his sexuality. Thing's like Alastor venting to Rosie about his feelings for a character with the caption "Alastor feeling love for the first time." Or Alastor wanting to have sex with a character and having feelings about that, and someone commenting "That's called a boner, sweetheart. That means you like them 🤭"

Like??? Like do ya'll not see how patronizing that sounds? Being ace-aro doesn't mean you don't know your own body. It doesn't mean you don't understand the functions of your body.

It doesn't mean you've never experienced intense emotions. It doesn't mean you've never experienced love before.

And, look, I know these are meant to be jokes. I know. People are joking. I laughed at the first few I came across, too. It's not meant to be harmful or condescending; no one means it that way. But there's been so much with such...bad takes recently, and I don't know about any other ace-spec people (I don't speak for all ace-specs. Hell, there are probably other ace-spec's who don't mind, enjoy it, or are making content like it themselves. I just speak for myself) but GOD it's getting uncomfortable.

Alastor is in his late 30's-early 40's in human years. That is the established age range we have for him. Do you really think that he'd go that long without ever experiencing "love?" He went through puberty just like everyone else, do you think he doesn't understand his own body???

Being asexual, or sex-repulsed, or touch-repulsed doesn't mean you automatically don't explore these parts of yourself. It doesn't mean he's never, once in his life, touched his own dick, or pussy, or whatever genitalia you're giving him. He can still very well be a "virgin" (which in and of itself is a social construct) while also knowing his body and confidently handling any "sexual needs" he has.

Do you really think he doesn't know what a boner is? That in all the years he's been alive and dead (on Earth and in Hell), he wouldn't have experienced these things once? (And you know what? Maybe he hasn't! Perhaps there are ace's out there like that! But you're telling me he doesn't KNOW what that is??? Really???)

Ah, no, it's all because he just hasn't found the right person yet, right? It's not until Lucifer/Angel Dust/Vox, whoever found him, and they gave him these feelings, and oh no, poor Bambi is feeling twitterpated and horny for the first time, isn't that romantic!

Honestly, not really. It just sounds like the same, stupid shit ace-aro people hear from family, friends, and acquaintances about their sexuality. You know, the tried and true: "Oh, you just haven't found the right person yet. You'll want all that eventually, you'll see😊"

Do you not see how frustrating that is?

Look, I am all down for Alastor exploring parts of himself. I want him to navigate different relationships, feel them out, figure out what kind of relationship he wants and what he's okay and not okay with doing. But there are ways to do that without treating him like a little UwU silly baby boy who doesn't know his own body, or his own emotions, or his own relationships with other characters. Like he needs someone to teach him about himself.

How about instead, he finds someone he feels comfortable exploring these elements with? Instead of them "teaching" him how to fuck, or masturbate, or whatever the hell you want to call it, they're giving him the room and safe-space to explore it at his own pace??!!

It comes across as someone who isn't on the ace-spectrum "teaching" an ace-spec character about their own sexuality which puts such a gross taste in my mouth. Or, at least, that's how it comes across to me.

And the thing is, I know people aren't going to stop. I know they're going to keep infantilizing Alastor and his aro-ace identity, and I wasn't originally going to make this post, because you can't control what people do in fandom.

So this is mostly just a post to say: HEY! Hello! Ace-aro person here! I hope you all are having fun and I love that you're exploring Alastor's asexual/aromantic identity! Especially those who may not be in the ace-spectrum themselves, as you're learning about us and our experiences! That's awesome! Can we just do that while also treating Alastor like the adult he is? Can we do that without being infantilizing and patronizing about his sexual identity? Please?"

That's all I really wanted to say. I just needed to get this off my chest instead of letting it fester. This isn't an attack on anyone, this is just the perspective of an Alastor multi-shipper who loves exploring his relationships with other characters (sexually and non-sexually) and deep-diving into the dynamics of the show.

Thanks for reading.

[the-fiction-witch]

We Must Do This

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Seara Targaryen (Aegons Wife) Rating - 12 Word Count - 1597

Aegon dashes down the steps away from the Sept desperate to escape,

But before he could even get across the courtyard, Aemond tackled to the ground mercilessly,

"Let me go!" Aegon shouts. "I have no wish to rule! No taste for duty, I'm not suited!" He shouts, turning around in his brother's arms.

"You'll get no argument from me..." Aemond sighed, holding Aegon tightly.

"Let me go, I will find a ship and sail away never to be found..." Aegon pleaded finding his feet, his tone urgent and desperate.

Aemond considers it for a moment his eye glaring at his older brother, considering this longer than he should. If Aegon was to leave Aemond would be crowned in his stead for a moment the taste of power truly was on his tounge

"Queen Regent is waiting." Ser Criston Cole spoke up breaking the boys apart,

Aemond let out a sigh as the feeling of power left him as his brother was forced from his arms,

Aegon screamed out as Ser Cristen forced him Inside a waiting royal carriage, "No! No please!" He begged as the door was locked from the outside, He looked around the carriage for another escape and found his wife.

Seara sat her hair in a braid. Wearing her nightgown and robe hung loosely, almost slipping down off her shoulder, it was obvious she had been forced from her bed for all this.

The carriage started to drive away, and Aegon huffed loudly, falling back in his seat. "Why did they have to wake you...?" He muttered.

"they hoped I'd know where you were." She admitted "And I think they had hopes I'd keep you from running too far"

"They know me well..." Aegon muttered, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "You look good... even though you've been woken up in the middle of the night..."

she knew his compliments were just his attempts to distract from what was happening,

"... I didn't blame you for running Aegon," she said her tone becoming more serious,

Aegon's smirk faded a little, at her more serious tone, and he let out a sigh. "I am not a King, I have no desire to sit on that Iron Throne... I don't want to rule, or lead, or sit and govern while others have all the glory and honour..." He mutters, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm well aware you don't want to," she said softly taking his hand "but like it or not, you are viserys firstborn son. And... Viserys is dead." She said sadly, "... You have little choice"

Aegon's hands wrapped around hers, as he slowly looked back at her. His gaze drifted to their clasped hands, and he gave hers a small squeeze. "I know... I just don't understand why Father would name me heir..." He said quietly. Another sigh escaped his lips, "I can't do this... I can't be a King, rule..." He whispers to her.

"... You will. In time. We will surround you with the best council, and head advice from our family." She explained "... I know this isn't what you want Aegon, but... It is happening and we can't escape it."

Aegon let out an annoyed sigh, a pout almost forming on his face. "But none of this is what I wanted..." He mumbled, almost sounding like a child whining, His hand gave hers a small squeeze. "I would ruin this realm..." he whispered, his gaze slowly trailing up to look at her.

"... Would you rather your brother sit upon it?" She asked,

"My brother is more suitable to rule than I..." he muttered, His brows furrowed, as he stared into her eyes. "At least Aemond would take ruling seriously, and knows how to act like a king... instead of a drunken idiot..." he said, his grip on her thigh tightening a little.

"... Your brother is cruel," she reminds

"My brother is no more crueller than I am..." Aegon replied, his gaze not moving from hers. "What would you rather, cruelty, or an idiot on the throne?" He asked, his hand slowly moving a little up her thigh, and his grip tightening again.

"... I don't know. But it doesn't matter what I want"

"Of course, your opinion matters..." Aegon mutters. "I care about your opinion... I know I don't act like I do, but I do..." he whispered.

"... You will be king. And as your wife, I will be your queen..." She said sadly she didn't want this but she had no choice "Tamsend will be your heir and... Mellimina a princess" she said almost crying "We have no choice Aegon. I wish we did. This is not a life I want for us nor for our children... But we don't get to make that decision"

Aegon could hear her sadness, he let out a sigh. "This is... not the life I wanted. It's not the life I hoped we could have for our children..." He whispered. A pang of guilt went through him, as he gently pulled her closer to him. His hands moved to grip her waist, and he pulled her to sit down on his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you..." he muttered softly against her ear, pulling her even closer to his chest. "And I love our children... they are the only good things in my life, I never wanted to bring them into all of this..." He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his nose against her nape, breathing in her scent. His hands slowly moved around to her stomach, holding her against him, and he let out a small sigh. "I would rather run away with our children and you, instead of putting my name on that damned Iron Throne..."

"I know." She nodded "... The moment the crown is on your head there will be war."

Aegon closed his eyes, as he felt the guilt and fear build inside him. He hated everything about this. He didn't want the throne, didn't want the power. But he especially didn't want what war would bring. His arms slowly tightened around her stomach, his face burying further into her neck. "War is coming one way... or another..." he whispered.

"... Is this truly not what you want?" She whispered

A small laugh escaped Aegon's lips, but there was no humour behind it. "More than anything I didn't want the crown. I didn't want the throne, I didn't want any of it." He whispered in reply. His grip on her remained, holding her body close against his. "Why would I want any of it... when it's just more responsibilities, and I have you and our beautiful children. I don't want the throne, I want you..." he muttered.

she shivered for a moment before she whispered once more "... Your mother is preparing the coronation immediately. When we arrive at the red keep we are to dress and be taken there immediately. With the children... She's arranging the coronation to be inside the dragon pit" she explained

Aegon's grip on her waist tightened a little, as a shiver went down his spine. "The dragon pit...?" He muttered. His head slowly pulled away from the crook of her neck, to look at her face. His arms moved from around her stomach to rest on her hips again.

"... The dragon pit" she nodded "... Where our dragons rest." She said hoping he would see her plan

Aegon's eyes narrowed a little, as he stared at her face. His gaze slowly moving over her expression, before he felt realization slowly hit him as he saw what she was trying to say to him through hints. A smirk slowly started to appear on his face, and his grip on her hips tightened a little. "The dragon pit...." He muttered, as he slowly nodded. A quiet snicker escaped Aegon's lip, as he leaned a little closer to her. His smirk still lingering on his face, as he stared into her eyes. The dragon pit..." he repeated again, his voice more of a whisper now. His eyes moved down to her lips again, and he slowly moved his head forward, until his lips were barely centimetres from hers.

"... We would have to be quick, and we'd only have one chance. But we could slip away, take our dragons and escape... I'd have to ride with the children neither of their own dragons are big enough to carry them and even so, the children cannot fly them yet"

Aegon nodded his head a little, his face still only centimetres from hers. "This is the only way isn't it...?" He whispered.

"I fear it is..." She nodded "... We shall go. To dragonstone. To my mother and bend the knee. She believes she is still your father's heir and she will tear down any in her way, our only hope is to go to her, to go dragonstone pledge ourselves to her and hope she gives us and our children mercy"

Aegon slowly moved his fingers off her hips, letting his hands move up her body, until he was gently cupping her jaw, holding her head gently between his hands. He continued to stare at her lips, before bringing his gaze up to look into her eyes. "We can do this..." he whispered to her before slowly nodding his head. His grip on her jaw tightened a little, as he leaned his head down again to press his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he pressed himself against her. "We must do this." He nodded,

Before the carriage stopped at the red keep both were forced out and taken to their chamber to be prepared for the coronation. 

[bitchlessdino]

okok i'm here for a request

wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.

so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)

Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.9k

tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name

author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro

Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.

You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.

You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 

“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”

You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.

“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder

“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”

“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”

You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”

“But you were thinking about it.”

“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”

You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries���“

“Will you ever let that go—“

“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”

The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”

You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 

“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”

“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”

“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”

You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”

Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.

“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”

“I actually have plans tonight.”

“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”

“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”

You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”

He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”

Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”

Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”

You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.

Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?

You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.

However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.

“Hellooo…”

The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.

“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”

You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”

“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”

“Okay. Where are you right now?”

You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”

Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.

“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.

“Very handsome.”

You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 

“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”

You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“You.”

Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.

“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”

Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”

Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound that handsome.”

“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”

There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 

Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.

“How much have they had to drink?”

“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.

His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 

You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.

Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”

“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”

It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”

“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.

You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.

“Did I do or say anything weird?”

He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”

You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.

“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”

“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.

“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“

“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”

“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.

“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.

You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.

“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”

“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 

“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.

You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.

“You’ve been quiet.”

You bow you head. “Sorry.”

“Why are you being sorry?”

“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”

You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Apologizing again? Look at me.”

It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.

Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.

“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.

You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.

Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.

His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.

“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”

Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.

“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”

You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”

He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”

“You…have?”

He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”

Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“

“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.

Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.

“Where did they go anyway?”

Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”

His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.

Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,

Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”

You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 

“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”

His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.

“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”

You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.

He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”

You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”

Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”

You gingerly nod.

“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”

Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.

“Such a good little darling.”

His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.

You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 

You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”

Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.

“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”

Part of my 3K Follower StayCation!!!

[colorfullyminded]

TLDR

Okay I cannot believe I'm about to go off like this, but this has been bothering me for awhile, and it's only making me more spiteful. I have been enjoying the influx of Billford art lately. Amazing, great wonderful. What I have Not been enjoying, is the absolute vitriol the Billdip fans have been getting since the influx of TBOB. I was a billdip shipper for awhile. Hell I was a billdip shipper when I was a Parapines shipper-- I liked shipping Dipper with boys. I was also like 14 or 15 at the time. Obviously, if you follow me now, you'll probably notice what my main ship for Dipper is. I grew out of Billdip, and moved on to Pinescone. I have been shipping Pinescone for 10 years. However, not once did I go around saying "Lol, glad I matured and became a better person and shipped something healthier", nor did I post in the billdip tag, condeming people for a fictional ship! And saying mine was better because it was less problematic.

"I'm really glad people stopped shipping Bill and Dipper together. Bill is a 1000 year old triangle demon, and Dipper is 13--" Stop. Repeat what you just said.

"Bill is 1000 year old triangle--"

Repeat that last word to me. "....triangle?" TRIANGLE! I'm sorry what?! This ship is already completely wild enough. You're getting mad at this fictional age gap-- AND BILL IS A FUCKING SHAPE! A FUCKING SHAPE! This ship was weird from the moment GO! And Billford isn't any better. IT'S STILL A SHIP WITH A FUCKING SHAPE! And you're going to sit on your high horse and look down on the Billdip community. On top of it-- they have an age gap too! Bill is still thousands of years old or whatever-- however long it's been, who knows? And Ford was in his 20s or so when he met Bill. That's still a huge, ridiculous age gap-- that Bill could easily use and manipulate; which he did....and then also caught feelings and became a sad ex, but that's beside the point~ Both of these ships are still insane. And again, the bigger thing I think people are just ignoring about these ships--is that Bill is a TRIANGLE! THREE LINES CONNECTED TOGETHER! And this is the hill you're going to die on? ...Cause apparently it's mine. First of all-- as many people pointed out-- Ford Pines did not exist until the second half of the final season. People couldn't ship Fordbill because there wasn't any Ford to introduce.

"Well, even before Ford, I never shipped Billdip! I always disliked it." ...Okay, that's totally fine. Not everyone needs to like or agree on the same ship. Lord knows there's probably people who don't really care for Pinescone either. There's a lot of popular ships that I can't stand. But I'm don't go into a ship tag I don't like, screaming to a void for self validation. I don't go around mocking other people for ships that they had in 2014-- or even still today! It doesn't matter! I did that when I was a kid-- and then realized that was rude, and it was better to just ignore the ships I didn't like and enjoy the ones that made me happy. And grow a community of kind, like minded friends. And listen, I am all for safe spaces and being able to block things that make you uncomfortable. I am not saying people who find the BillDip ship uncomfortable to be idiots or babies or overly sensitive-- or anything like that. I think if something makes you uncomfortable, that is okay and I think it's perfectly fine to blacklist a tag that you don't want to see. I also think it's imperative that people tag things as accurately as they can so people looking at your work can know if one of your pieces has a thing that they don't like-- and therefore can avoid. What I don't appreciate is the fanhate for this ship that is sprouting up like weeds. You can not like something, you can be disgusted by it (I have my Gravity Falls ships I can not stand, nor do I feel comfortable with), but attacking real people for a FICTIONAL SHIP-- two characters who are drawings on a piece of paper and can not be affected mentally, physically or emotionally by fanwork; who still retain the same shape after everything we put them through-- to the point that you send death threats, or threaten to Doxx, or just harass relentlessly, I have always found that more childish and disgusting. You are causing real world pain to people. Me fucking up Dipper Pines is not going to do anything to him-- because he doesn't actually exist. He's a cartoon character. I could squash him and stretch him in Wonka's taffy machine--- I could throw him mock speed at a wall and watch him explode on impact-- but he still exists. He's not dead; I can pick him up and dust him off, and If I wanted-- I could decide that eh, 'Not a scratch on him'. And I'd be right. Because he is a cartoon character, and I am just a fangirl. I can not change anything about him-- I have no ability to make anything I headcanon canon. And even if I was the original artist-- it doesn't change the fact that Dipper would still be nothing more than a creation. A construct of shapes; he can not be hurt or traumatized in a way that leads to real life consequences-- because he is not real. I am not a cartoon character. My friends are not cartoon characters. Artist and Writers who stay in their lane...are not cartoon characters. If you hurt us...it will linger. It will leave a scar. If you can not tell the difference between Fiction and Reality, then I think maybe media might be too much to handle-- and I think you need to really reevaluate yourself.

And just to vent some other things that i keep seeing that are frustrating: You can't claim the twins are only 13-- and then on August 31st go "Happy 20-something Birthday Mabel and Dipper!" And then proceed to drop a picture of them as adults. Well which is it? Do they age or not? Because Gravity Falls showed them canonically aging. If you think the twins age-- then you can't suddenly turn around and go, 'no you can't ship them-- Dipper is a child!' but you drew him as an adult. So sorry, it looks like you can't draw the twins grown up anymore. You claimed they're 13, so better draw them 13 forever--. Aged up stories and works exist for a reason, especially for a fan who grew up on the series. The characters might have grown up alongside them. It's not unlikely for a person to ship Billdip when Dipper is much older.

And on that note, for people who are like 'well older billdip is fine-- it's just people shipping him during the show that deserve to die.' Okay... and like I said, this rant is coming from a recent influx of Billford shippers spitting on Billdip shippers. You know? The TOXIC Old Man Yaoi!

You're still shipping something that is problematic. You are still shipping something twisted and wrong. And I am not judging you. I am here for this divorced arc. I am thriving. But you can't just pick and choose what is and isn't okay. And let me first off explain; if there is something that personally triggers you about a toxic ship, and you want to avoid that-- again, perfectly understandable. Perfectly reasonable. You are the makers of your content space. And I am not judging anyone for that. I want people to be safe. I want people to have a good time in fandom spaces. I want people to not have to deal with the things that upset them or frighten them, or disgust them. But you can not say one is fine, and one is not. They're both bad! They're both toxic. In real life, these ships would both be charged with serious crimes! And yes, there are some crimes that are worse than others, and if you asked me what I thought was more problematic-- I'd say Billdip-- but both of these ships are extreme, and severe in their problematic content. You are still consuming problematic content. If it's a personal thing, that's fine; avoid it. But don't sit there throwing stones from your glass house.

[perseephoneee]

Can you do a isaac lahey imagine where the reader us on her period and freaks out and doesn't know what to do so lydia tells him what to do

hehe yes omg

period talk (isaac lahey x f!reader)

warnings: fluff, period talk, dumb boy

a/n: try the drink mentioned if you want to imagine running through hogwarts on a winter day.

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

Isaac wouldn't admit it, but he loved the cold weather. He liked when the winter season would hit, and holidays were a topic of conversation. Holidays were the only time his Dad treated him like he was actually proud of him, and despite that fucked up relationship, Isaac couldn't help but romanticize the season. It's why, when Beacon Hills hit a new low for the weather, he was excited to see you at school. Perhaps he could even convince you to skip class and get hot coco with him.

Unfortunately for him, your period had started therefore your mood was sour. The cold just added to your discomfort, and you basically hissed at him when he came by your locker.

"Woah, what did I do?" Isaac recoiled, a nervous laugh on his lips. You took a deep breath before turning and facing him.

"Nothing, you did nothing," you sighed. "I'm just...not doing great."

"Whats wrong?" Isaac inquired, brows furrowed and concern evident on his face. You loved your cute werewolf boyfriend, and while he was very helpful, he probably couldn't do much for you right now.

"I'm on my period," you admitted with a twinge of shame. Talking about these things was never fun, even to someone you trusted. A blush coated Isaac's cheeks as he processed what you said.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Should I, uh, do something?" Isaac stammered, hands in his pockets.

"Just be you, I'm a big girl and can handle myself," you chuckled, lightly slapping his arm as you closed your locker and started in the direction of class. Isaac stood in the hallway a moment longer, before deducing a game plan and targeting the area of the school he knew the familiar red head would be. She was typing on her phone when he ran up beside her, backpack slung lazily over his shoulder.

"I need your help," Isaac said hurridly, earning a squeak of surprise form Lydia. She set two angry eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to run away. Women did not like him much today.

"Stop sneaking up on me like that," Lydia rolled her eyes, putting her phone in her purse. "What is it?"

"Y/N is on her period, and I want to help, but I don't know what to do, and you're a girl and you're smart so I thought you'd have some ideas?" Isaac rushed, lips pressed in a thin line as Lydia cocked a brow at him.

"Why do you have to make everything so dramatic?" Lydia huffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Isaac sent her a look though that showed that he wasn't going to figure anything out, anytime soon. "Look, unless she asks for products, don't bother trying to buy her them-- you'll likely get the wrong ones anyway. Get her her favorite warm drink, a heating pad, blanket, maybe an activity or something calming."

"Drink, heating pad, blanket, activity, got it," Isaac listed out everything, brows scrunched together in concentration. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, during this time, she's always right. Even if you think she isn't, just agree that you're wrong and she's right. Otherwise, she'll claw your eyes out," Lydia crossed her arms, daring Isaac to challenge her. He stayed quiet though, and she loosened up her stance. "I have to go, have fun, don't get killed."

Isaac was never that great at social cues, but he really liked you, and that was enough. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling taking pit in his stomach, he skipped out on school to go get the necessary things Lydia listed. Starting off with a butterbeer chai, a concoction you created (two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee, caramel drizzle, and chai); going to CVS for a heating pad and a blanket; then finally the bookstore down the street where he found a book you wanted (after searching through his phone for fifteen minutes trying to find the text where you mentioned wanting a new release). By the time he had finished his grand adventure, school was out and he would be able to surprise you.

You were having a crappy day with a side of more absolute garbage, so you were very pleasantly surprised when your golden hair boyfriend comes bounding up the street as you exit the school building.

"Woah, where's the fire?" you chuckle. You finally take notice of the bags he's carrying, as well as the drink.

"These are for you," Isaac stutters, passing you the drink. You peer in the bag and can't hide the grin on your face as you take in the plethora of supplies he got. "I know you weren't doing well, and I felt bad, so I got some stuff."

"Isaac, you are the sweetest puppy of a boyfriend a girl could ask for," you smile, wanting nothing more than to pick him up and twirl him around (he is too tall, you are too small). "How did you know what to get?"

"I asked Lydia," he mumbles, staring at his feet. You fight back a chuckle.

"Probably the smartest thing you could've done."

"That was my thought process as well," he chimes, scratching the back of his neck and shooting you a grin. You lean up, kissing him on the corner of his mouth and looping his arm through yours.

"C'mon, lets go hide from the cold together and I'll bitch to you about life," you chime, the cold dusting yours and Isaac's cheeks in shades of pink.

"Sounds perfect, just like you," Isaac smiles, kissing the top of your head as you walk off back home.

[zahmaddog]

The Bad Batch Workout Split

I'm a bit of an intense gym-goer. Anime, live-action characters, and other animations have really inspired me to go above and beyond what I thought I could do. Clone Force 99 inspires me so much! They're all so fit, have different advantages, skills, and physical strengths. For fun, I created a workout split based on each of the modified clones. I hope you enjoy it! There’s a bit of a fanfic element to it as each Bad Batcher describes their favorite workout routine:)

(Part 2)The Bad Batch Workout - The Frat Boy Days Edition

Wrecker - Legs

Wrecker never skips leg day. Whether he's on a mission or with Gonky in the back of the ship, he's always training! Wrecker encourages you to train safely! He says to feel free to train until failure on machines, but to pick a weight you'll be safe with on the free weight work.

Leg Extension - 2 sets of 15

Hamstring Curl - 2 sets of 15

Deadlifts - 3 sets of 6-8

Leg Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Smith Machine Split Squats - 2 sets of 6-8

Gonk Carry (Sandbag Carry) - 3 reps; set a distance you’re comfortable with.

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Crosshair - Push & Shoulders

Crosshair is built to carry his gear and Firepuncher 773 up mountains, towers, and more. His shoulders are strong to sustain his sniper work and throw enemies in close hand-to-hand combat. He suggests getting someone like Echo to spot you so you can work harder, but if you're going it alone, be smart and hang out with the Smith machine.

Incline Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Bench Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Shoulder Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Delt Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Farmers Carry - 3 reps; set a distance you’re comfortable with

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Hunter - Back & Abs

Hunter knows he has an amazing back to waist ratio and maintains a steady back routine to maintain it. To build out your back, he suggests warming up your abdominal muscles first, then heading straight into heavy rowing work.

Cable Crunch - 3 sets till failure

T-Bar Row - 3 sets of 6-8

Assisted Pull Ups - 3 sets of 10-12

Cable Lat Pulldown (Palms in) - 3 sets of 10-12

Cable Row (Narrow) - 3 sets of 10-12

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Tech - Full Body + Cardio

Tech may be all brains, but you have to give credit where it's due: the guy is built. He'll climb up vertical surfaces with Echo on his back, overpower enemies with a broken femur, and perform fantastic movements to protect others. Tech suggests performing heavy compound movements to work multiple muscle groups at once and mastering your own body weight. At the end, listen to a podcast, music, or show; or if you can maintain focus and a higher heart rate, read a book.

Assisted Chin Ups - 3 sets of 10-12

Hexbar Deadlifts - 3 sets of 10-12

Barbell Squats - 3 sets of 10-12

Assisted Pull Ups - 2 sets of until failure

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (See Below)

Entertained cardio - 45 minutes

Omega - Arms & Accessories 

She may be the little sister, but Omega is a straight up badass and her brothers know it. She's getting used to performing compound movements with her brothers, but enjoys working on accessory movements as it's time for her to focus on herself in the gym and get away from all the "bro" noise.

Calf Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Preacher Bicep Curl - 3 sets of 10-12

Tricep Pushdown - 3 sets of 10-12

Hammer Curl - 3 sets of 10-12

Front Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Shrugs - 3 sets of 10-12

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher

Clone Force 99 has exceptional grip strength and endurance. Here's the burning finisher for the end of each workout. If you don't have access to battle ropes, any free weight arm movement can replace it.

Each exercise till failure x3

Battle Rope 

Pushups

Static Hang

Clone Force 99 says good luck on your training. You'll need it.

[some-pers0n]

I'm gonna be blunt and say that I really don't think a lot of people kinda get these two characters. Sure, yeah, there'll be people like "Psshh no?? Me?? I know exactly who these guys are" and like, yeah maybe you do. Maybe you'll read this while nodding your head and whatnot. Maybe you won't.

Either way, I think there's a decent amount of people who don't...get Qibli and Winter. I mainly see it in shipping stuff. I know it's kinda idiotic to go looking for character stuff in shipping-- you know what?? No. I think it's perfectly sound logic to try and look for meaningful character writing in ship stuff, especially with fanfics. I've got that aroace mindset where I can only comprehend a ship if it has a clear and exact thematical and character-driven purpose.

Anywho, I think there's something to be craved with how Qinter is talked about in the fandom. I think there's something in general to be desired when discussing Qibli and Winter in general (or, hell, most of the characters) or other ships they're in, but I want to discuss Qinter mainly as a means to view them through the lens of a relationship. Some sort of duo and pair. Two young dragonets trying to survive.

Winter and Qibli come from incredibly similar backgrounds. That sounds ridiculous at a first glance, but when you think about it, they do. They both were raised with terrible parents who held them to an unrealistic standard that neither really wanted to be.

Winter was forced to become a child soldier and be the best of the best, despite his best rightfully not being absolutely perfect and having a ton of heart and soul in him. Ironically enough, his sheer loyalty to his friends that he displays later would be commended in the IceWing army, but is only looked down upon because he's showing anything other than pure apathy at existence and disgust when confronted with the other tribes. Winter is a kind soul who was shaped and twisted into becoming somebody far meaner to fit the idea of what his parents wanted him to be. It's a mask he wears to fit in. To be at least be tolerated by the dragons he only wants the approval from.

Qibli was raised in the slums of Scorpion Den. The back alleys and dark, seedy streets that are avoided. He had to fit the build of a thief. A petty pickpocket that lurks around like his family, doing nothing more than swiping whatever goods they could get their hands on. Qibli was kind and sweet, which obviously was a terrible sin in the eyes of his family. Like Winter, this planted a seed of wanting to be loved, although to a significantly larger extent than Winter felt. Qibli became obsessed with the idea of being loved as he hated being seen as nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be praised and admired because of just how neglected he was. So, he pretends to be somebody likable. Somebody who others care about. A mask to conceal the dragon he feels can never be loved.

Because of their backgrounds, they feel at odds when they're introduced to one another. Qibli is the laid-back jokester type while Winter is snarly and angry. Thanks to Moon's powers though, we get a look into them even before their book.

We see that Qibli is paranoid and his brain is constantly trying to predict others. He's always in a state of stress and fear, putting on a performance to try and be liked and see which dragons are the biggest threats to him. He's never gotten used to living outside of the crime-filled Scorpion Den, and the memories of childhood where he had to lay awake thinking that some dragon who his mother stole from will murder them all in their sleep remain. He's scared and afraid.

Winter managed to convince himself that he is this mean and nasty dragon, but really he's not. There's moments of hesitancy in MR from him. He's also just. generally not really that much in the wrong in the book. Sorry my Winter Apologist side is coming out but y'all hate too much on a character who was just kinda mean for some random dragon he only knew for a couple days at most by then doing stuff that was very suspicious. Yeah obviously Moon is the protagonist and we like her and know the full context, but Winter?? He doesn't know anything!

I digress however. They're in. not the best of states. Sure, yeah, Qibli had ran from Vulture and Cobra and was now Thorn's adoptive son of sorts, but he was obsessed with Thorn to the point of almost blind worship. He hailed her as some grand dragon because he had never been loved before. Being loved by somebody felt incomprehensible. He wants to repay it since he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Winter on the other hand has just gotten away from a terrible situation, where his family more or less just hates him. They hate him so much it's not even funny. Winter had gotten Hailstorm, somebody who Winter loved and admired, was stolen away by the SkyWings and presumed dead for years because of him. He blames himself. He constantly thinks that he should've been the one taken away instead. He doesn't see himself worthy to live, especially not compared to Hailstorm. Hailstorm is charming, smart, strong, and better in every capacity to Winter. How could he ever live up to that?

Their shared flaw is that they feel inadequate. They feel as though there's something inherently flawed with themselves, something that they need to hide away. It was shaped because of their similar backstories, where they were neglected and abused and put down because of them never being able to meet the unreasonable expectations placed on them. Because of this trauma, their personalities in the present are shaped to try and fit in.

It's only by being with the Jade Winglet do they begin to unlearn those habits. I would imagine that, in moments where they chat with each other for the first real time (not fighting or anything), they...notice how alike they are. Like holding up a mirror to themselves. Despite how differing their personalities are, they feel one in the same. The other side of the coin.

It's why I think Qinter really works as something more than a cheap means for comedic relief. They bounce off each other really well and in an interesting way, which makes for their interactions feeling a lot more meaningful when they put away the act and show and are genuine. I honestly think that they would want to help each other out. They see themselves in the other and don't want them to feel like they have to do this, but they can't even save themselves.

It's only with time however. Healing is a process. It's sure as hell hard to do it all alone. It's why I love a lot the themes of friendship and togetherness in arc 2 especially. All of the POVs learn how to be more confident and sure of themselves through their friends. I just wish that Qinter was talked about in a more intellectually stimulating way than "yellow boy laughs at blue boy for being angsty teen"

[eloiseyybish]

Touching on recent 9-1-1 fandom discourse, I think it's important to contextualise. You see, the thing is, I've typically in the past shipped non-canon ships, but they've taught me a lot about fandom culture.

Ngl, this kinda started with The Mighty Ducks (Charlie/Adam shippers rise) and keeps going onto fuckin Klance (I'm just mad about how the writers left Lance and Allura as individual characters regardless of their romantic status at the time) and Zosan (OPLA did not help this).

So I 10000% know what it's like to ship something and for it to never to be canon because that's like 95% of most ships (especially gay ones) in fandom.

I promise you...if Buddie doesn't go canon... you'll live. You'll still have the same fanon couple that you've worshipped for so long.

Just, please... stop the 'Tommy Bashing' fics just because he is hot enough to make Buck discover his sexuality (instead of Eddie). I don't have the energy especially when some people don't even un-tag Bucktommy with these fics. They still keep Buck/Tommy as the main couple even though all they're doing is making Tommy OOC and an asshole (idk I haven't actually read the fic because I muted the creator when I saw that's what they were doing)

This is all new to me.

Normally, I don't ship the canon one, but Bucktommy is cute, guys, and idk what to tell you if you disagree. There isn't a single interaction they've had (in canon, not fanon) to show you that they don't desperately want to know each other better.

My point is: YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR SHIP TO BE CANON FOR YOU TO SHIP IT. As a veteran, I'm so shocked at the entitlement of NEEDING your favourite ship to be canon because that's the only way it's valid.

Please, grow up and understand that things don't happen in this world just because you want them to. Canon or not shouldn't stop you from being able to enjoy the dynamic.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

The ATSV fandom is dead! Everything is so slo-

The Hobie tag gets MULTIPLE posts a day. There's a least one Miguel fic published everyday, if not multiple. My favorite artist just posted hi-res Hobie art fully colored like a week ago. Ask 'you got one night with Miguel and a bottle of liquor. WYD' and watch you'll get like 45 responses saying the most smuttiest detailed choke-slam-into-a-train type BDSM in your inbox I PROMISE YOU

The Hobie and Miguel girlies DO NOT SLEEP.

'Dead' - Go hyperfixate on an anime that ended in 2002 who's only new material is Japan-exclusive one-off releases that have never been translated to English then get back to me.

'Dead' - You wanna hear dead? Go play around in the Big Hero 6 tags 💀💀

'Dead' - You remember Wednesday?? The biggest Netflix show of 2022?? Remember? Bet you don't!! Dead fandom.

'Dead' - Go watch all the seasons of Gossip Girl. Watch Vampire Diaries then go in the tags. THAT'S DEAD. That's MUMMIFIED. CREMATED at this point. Death Note and Buffy too.

Bruh you wanna know what my OTHER movie fixation is?

Bullet Train (2022). One off film adapted from a one off book. No sequel. No NOTHING. Go in the bullet train tag bro. We're STRUGGLING. There's like four of us in a huddle screaming about the movie Bullet Train.

We're not waiting for a next movie. Nothing's coming. Half the characters fucking die in the movie so there not coming back. We're just riding this sinking ship until our last goddamn breath 😭😭 ffs

If a character gets like 5 posts a day in their tag, that fandom is not dead girl count your blessings it ain't REALLY dead

Imagine not getting new art of Hobie for over a month. Imagine looking for Miguel smut you haven't read only to see the last one was written three months ago.

COULD YOU IMAGINE?

'Dead', girl this fandom ain't even on life-support and I'm GLAD

[aezuria]

uptown girl!

"she's been living in her uptown world, i bet she's never had a backstreet guy" —billy joel

content: mortal au!leo valdez x reader

╰┈▸ info: stuck-up reader (she gets character development later), cursing, reader is ~18, early 2000s core

notes: stella finally posted a fic !? (pls tell me if u enjoy i need validation 😔)

this has got to be the worst way to start summer ever. first, your morning was ruined by a bird shitting all over your car window—not a mess you had the time nor the patience to clean. then, on your way to pick up your friends for some much needed girl time, your car had the fun idea of breaking down. great. it left you on the side of the road, dialing up your father. which, when you think about it, really wasn't your fault! your precious ride just spontaneously combusted or something. nothing to do with the fact that you've crashed the front about seven times since january. after all, you'd gotten them fixed! it should be the mechanic's fault. or maybe, this car was cursed!

but of course, your dad just had to disagree. apparently it was his "last straw."

you winced away from the phone's speaker as his voice burst through. "you have been so ungrateful lately! when you asked for that car, i bought it for you! i looked over the fact that you don't even have your license yet! all i asked was for you to take care of your things!" he cried. from the tone of his voice, you could imagine the creases dug into his forehead. okay, now you felt bad. just a little.

before you could apologize, he finished with, "you just wait until i get there, young lady."

leave it to him to take away your guiltiness.

"dad!" you watched in horror as the truck towed your sleek red baby to god knows where. you turned your stricken expression on him, hoping to elicit at least a little bit of sympathy. but it seemed like his mind was made up on this one. dammit.

he crossed his arms sternly, putting his foot down. "let's go. we'll talk more in the house."

"-so you want to ship me away to some place crawling with bugs and creeps for the rest of the summer!?" you screeched along with the chair as its legs slid across the kitchen's tile floor.

your dad raised his hand in a placating gesture. "now, now, just until your car is fixed. it might not even be a whole month." he shrugged. yeah, real comforting. "and the city's a nice place. we lived there when you were young, remember?"

"no, i don't remember." you snapped. you did remember, but that brought on memories you'd rather not have right now.

he sucked in a breath. "alright then. it won't be so bad. we still have that apartment, and i got it cleaned up recently. it'll teach you some responsibility and independence." he nodded, satisfied with his decision.

you opened your mouth to snark at him again, but he continued, "and you won't be completely alone. there's a nice young man who will be fixing up your car, just down the street from the apartment building. i asked him to show you around when he has the time. and you'll have your phone, so make sure to call me, okay?" his strict behavior gave way to the soft spot you knew he had for you.

"...okay," you agreed reluctantly. once he really made up his mind about something, there was no changing it, so there was no use in arguing.

he smiled, patting your shoulder gently. "great. now pack your bags."

"be sure to buy groceries, and do the laundry, and clean every so often-" your father rambled on and on. if he was this worried, why wouldn't he just not go through with it? and why was he acting like you couldn't do basic chores!? it's not like you ever did them, but they couldn't be too hard, right?

"i get it dad." you rolled your eyes, staring out the car window. the buildings were all drab, painted in browns and grays, without a single bright color in sight, save for the red stop signs.

he pulled into an empty parking spot in front of the building. your insides recoiled. you swore it didn't look this... dilapidated all those years ago. or maybe you just had better taste now.

"we're here! looks like it's got a lot of.. character." he tried to cheer you up, but even you could tell he didn't think to check how it looked. it would've hurt too much to do so.

your lip scrunched in distaste. "i can't spend a single second in there."

"don't worry, it'll be over before you know it." with one last reassuring smile, he turned and left.

the apartment itself wasn't too bad, it was all cleaned up, just as your father had said. it smelled faintly of lemon cleaner, pillows fluffed and spritzed. your room was cold despite the warmth that came with summer. the pristine sheets were unfamiliar against your skin, as if you were tucked into a hotel bed. the sound of tire rolling against pavement never ceased, people had places to go, places to be even in the dead of night. a draft through your window made you shiver. you should close that in the morning. you curled in on yourself like you did when you were little, only this time there was only the unfeeling fabric to hold you, instead of the warm, long forgotten embrace no one could quite replicate.

you cringed at the shoddy place your phone had led you to, and looked up at the peeling paint sign that read: valdez mechanics. how charming. you even debated touching the rusty doorknob, but it swung open before you could turn it. which would be nice, if it didn't almost smack you in the face.

"watch it!" you hissed, side-stepping in time to see a boy your age walking through. his hair was a mess, and there were grease stains all over his face and clothes. his fingers were tap, tap, tapping away at his leg, to the rhythm of the song blaring inside. you think he'd be cute if he wasn't so dirty.

“sorry ‘bout that!” he laughed sheepishly. he stared at you for a moment too long before asking, “you here for the thunderbird?”

“yes,” you said shortly.

he chose to ignore your clipped tone, flashing you a smile. “come on in then, yeah?”

you followed him into the tiny shop, already wanting to leave. the place smelled of oil, and you could barely find a clean place to sit on. there were tools thrown everywhere, the floor sticky with dried up grease.

“i’m leo, by the way.” his voice snapped you out of your judging thoughts as he led you to the back. you finally saw your car, propped up with the hood open.

“y/n.” you barely glanced at him as you rushed over, examining the damage. “so? what’s wrong with her?”

he gestured with the wrench in his hand—when’d he get that?—and pointed to the engine. “well that’s all busted up, so i’m gonna have to build a new one for ya. i’ll do you an oil change too and-“

“yeah um, how long will it take?” you interrupted, giving him a smile you did not want to have on.

“i’d say three to five weeks? depends if i have any other stuff that comes in so…”

three to five weeks of your summer wasted away here? when you’re supposed to be having the best time of your life before college!?

“are you serious? can you get it done sooner? i can pay you some more-“ you reached into your purse.

“whoa!” he caught your wrist. his hands were clean now, must’ve wiped them on a rag. “money won’t make me work faster, honey.” he let go and shrugged. “sorry.”

honey? “well then what will? cause i need to leave as soon as-“

“some help, maybe?”

you blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. “you want me to help you? the person who’s paying for all this?”

“technically, your father’s the one paying,” leo pointed out. “and y’know. you don’t have to help, of course. it just might make it go a bit quicker…” he trailed off, dimples poking through as he tried to hide a cheeky smile.

you huffed. “what do i have to do?”

”i am not sticking my hands in those.” you defied, shaking your head firmly.

leo scoffed, flapping the gloves around. “come on! this is the cleanest pair i have!”

"put this here?" you asked, shoving a part that you forgot the name of into an empty space.

"hm?" leo looked up from his fiddling, jaw dropping in horror. "no no no!"

"oh i know how to do this!" you exclaimed as he gave you a screwdriver. "my dad always said 'lefty loosey, righty tighty.'"

the boy nodded. "yeah! try it out." he pointed to a loose screw.

you successfully tightened it (to the right), giving him a proud smirk. "see?"

"yup." leo grinned at your enthusiasm, even though it was the most basic thing ever. "try and tighten the rest. i'll be right back."

a loud clatter made leo jump from across the repair shop. he rushed over to you, finding the parts that were supposed to be screwed together in complete disarray. "uh, maybe you shouldn't help..."

"really?" you deadpanned. "i hadn't noticed."

"sorry." he laughed. "scooch."

you pursed your lips. no one told you to "scooch" before. but you moved over anyway.

"wanna keep me company?" leo slid his gloves on and began putting the contraption back together.

no, you thought. but you didn't have anything better to do other than wander the city like a clueless idiot. and you hated looking like an idiot. "fine."

the shop was quiet, save for the occasional clanging as leo worked on the engine. his rambling was cut short as he focused on his work, something you didn't know he could do.

"nice car you got here. i've always wanted to drive one of these." he patted its side appreciatively. "where'd you buy this?"

scratch that. maybe he could only shut up in two minute increments.

"don't know. my dad bought it for me." you looked around, not even bothering to hide your boredom.

"right." leo laughed. you found he did that a lot. "must be nice."

your eyebrows knitted in confusion. "i guess?" what did he mean by that?

"i hate it here. it's so boring!" you complained over the phone. cooking dinner had been an absolute mess. “and that leo guy is so weird.”

"give him a chance, will you? he could show you around town, maybe teach you some manners…” you father muttered the last bit.

"what?"

"nothing! all i'm saying is give that boy a chance. who knows, he could be a great friend."

“‘great friend’ my… foot.”

[inlovewithgreta]

Heya! i was wondering if you could do a Captain Phasma x f!reader fic? Maybe a little bit of spice? It could be any plot btw! (Captain Phasma is one of Gwendolines characters! :))

Space Racing - Captain Phasma x Fem!Reader

Summary: Phasma distracts you in the most best way possible.

Warnings: Praise, oral sex (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), I think that's it!!

Word Count: 1.6k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @bellatrixsbrat

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

"Sometimes I worry about your flying skills," your lover admitted, after her head hit the back of her seat when you increase your speed.

"It's not my flying skills that you need to worry about." You were smiling from ear to ear. You never got the chance to fly, but when someone bets you to a race, Phasma had no choice but to tag along.

Knowing you would've gone with or without her permission..

You heard her take in a sharp breath, unsure of if it was because of a passing asteroid that was a little bit too close or the subtle graze of your knee against her own.

"Oh?" She tilted her head. "And what is it that I need to worry about exactly?" She asked.

"Well, when I win this bet—"

"If you win the bet—"

"When I win, I'm going to have so much fun making you pay for ever doubting me."

Phasma quickly rolled her eyes in a playful manner.

"Once I have you on your knees, you'll have no choice but to beg for my forgiveness," you teased.

"And what would you make me do?" She knew it would never happen, but alas she was curious what your mind would come up with.

"I'll have to feel it out once the moment comes of course.. but, one thing's for sure is I will not let you up until I am entirely satisfied."

"You sound awfully sure of yourself, sweetheart. But your friend here might just give you a run for your money and beat you." She pointed to the ship on your left, slowly passing you.

Your concentrated face had Phasma admiring you. She loved the way your eyebrows knitted and the bottom lip that got pulled in to be bitten by your teeth.

Her hand curling around the back of your neck almost broke your focus. But now was not the time to be distracted. You had a bet to win.

Her gesture was light yet possessive, sending an immediate shiver down your spine as her fingers toyed with your hair.

"Phas..." you mumbled, trying to stay focused.

Instead of removing her hand, she allowed her fingers to leave your hair to trail along the side of your throat. In a slow, teasing manner.

Your eyes flicked to the woman sitting next to you, but she tutted and shook her head.

"Keep your eyes straight ahead, princess."

You let out a deep breath, attempting to focus. It was hard to ignore the fingers that left a fiery trail across your skin. When she dipped them lower, you couldn't help the gasp that escaped.

With an agonizing slowness, Phasma soon went low enough to trace the upper swell of your breasts...then even lower down your body. Another gasp fell past your lips when she went even farther to trace your nipple through your shirt.

"Not so sure of yourself winning, now are you?" She asked, knowing how much your teasing was easily distracting you.

You hadn't noticed how far she leaned in, lips just barely gracing the shell of your ear as she spoke. Her voice was lustrous and deep, and her lips were soft and light.

"I don't think this is what I had in mind when I let you accompany me."

"You think you let me accompany you? Oh darling, you have it all wrong." Phasma teased the edge of your bra.

You knew exactly where this was headed, and you eagerly awaited her next moves. You couldn't help but shiver in anticipation as she grazed your nipple once more before rolling it between her fingers.

"You okay, love?" She smirked, teasing you to her best ability. She knew the effect she had on you. How hot and bothered you easily got.

You silently nodded your head, not trusting your voice at a time like this. Where you knew you would be shaky and breathy.

Phasma put a warm, comforting hand on your knee to give you some time to recover from her hands on your breasts. But she knew exactly what she was doing.

Her hand only temporarily stalled, only moving to inch it higher up your inner thigh.

"Phas, please..." You truly couldn't take anymore, all the teasing, the touches, the sultriness in her voice.

Her hand reached your center, fingers teasing you even more through your clothes. You couldn't help but gasp from the touch.

"Imagine if they could see you right now..." Phasma increased the pressure, forcing you to buck you hips against her hand in a desperate attempt for more friction. "Trying to get yourself off on my hand while you attempt to beat your silly little friends in a race that you're no longer participating in."

You had finally reached a point that you couldn't take anymore of her taunting and teasing. You pulled the ship to a stop and turned to face your smirking lover.

"No more teasing. I need you. Right now." Your eyebrows were knitted and lips were down in a faux pout, leaving Phasma to let out a deep, husky, laugh.

You grab the blonde by the front of her shirt, glad she was not wearing her usual suit. You pulled her into a deep, hard, demanding kiss. Phasma matches your energy immediately, tongue sweeping into your mouth.

You try to undress her, but you bump into the steering wheel. With a huff, you pull the lever to move your seat back. Phasma is quick to kneel in front of you, pulling your pants down eagerly.

"How's this?" She asks, placing a gentle kiss on your knee.

"Much better.." You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. "But I'd like to see more of your skin too."

The blonde smiled, before unbuttoning her top and revealing her white bra that looked angelic with her milky skin.

"That's more like it."

Phasma reaches up to cup your face, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You hum when her soft lips demand your own.

You feel breathless when she pulls away, to make her way back down your body. Your legs spread wider to make room for her. Adrenaline pumps through your veins as Phasma pulls your panties down your bare legs.

"This excites you, doesn't it?" She asks with a teasing tone. "Imagine someone looking inside our window here. Me between your legs, fucking this pretty pussy of yours right out in the open."

"Yes, I love it," you admitted. Phasma runs her hands up and down your curves, before flicking her thumb across your clit.

"You like it when I touch you like this too, huh?"

Her touch left sparks in their wake, sending a longing straight to your core as she circled your button.

"Yess..." you bucked your hips. "But I like it more when you use your mouth." You tug at her blonde locks, urging her head forward.

She takes the hint, and places a small, light peck to your center. A small hum left your lips, finally getting what you've been craving most.

"I love when you take what you want from me," she mused.

Her long pointer finger gathered your slick around your entrance before slipping inside you. As you gasped from the intrusion, Phasma didn't wait to insert her middle finger.

"Yess, Phas..." You let your body relax as your lover started her slow pace.

"Tell me how you want me, and I'm all yours." Between her accent, big blue eyes gazing up at you, and her fingers inside your cunt, you didn't know which one made your pussy throb more.

"I want you exactly like this. Between my legs. Using your fingers and that pretty mouth of yours to fuck me."

Phasma nods with a smirk, "I may have a pretty mouth but this pussy is a whole lot prettier, my love." Her mouth reaches your clit, and you gasp.

"Yess..." Your head falls back against the seat while your lover fucks you. With a free hand, she reaches up to tuck a hand underneath your bra to cup your breast.

Fingers toyed with your nipples while the others fucked your pussy with long, feverish strokes that had your breathing growing heavy.

She pushes her finger knuckle deep, and you let out a long, loud, pornographic moan. The overwhelming onslaught of sensations had you seeing stars. And not the ones that were outside the window.

"Gods, that feels so good.."

Phasma slows down to give you a moment to catch your breath... only to then slowly bring her pace back up. Every stroke, and thrust of her fingers had you moaning out in pleasure.

She does it over, and over, and over again. Slowing down, just to pick up her pace all over again. Her lips were wrapped around your button, and with each hum from the blonde, you bucked your hips.

The hand on your breast twists and pulls at your nipple. The pain from her pinches mixed beautifully with the pleasure between your legs. Gazing down however, was the last straw for you.

Big blue eyes were still gazing at you, almost undressing the rest of you with her eyes. The sight was plain out filthy, and the sounds coming from your wet pussy as you came, had her letting out another hum as your juices dropped out of your used hole.

"Phasma!" Your body felt numb, as your orgasm ripped through you. The cramped space from the seat had your body closing in tightly around the blonde.

As you were finally able to catch your breath, Phasma slowed her movements little by little. She wanted to elongate your orgasm as long as possible, but still ensuring you weren't overstimulated.

"I hope they don't think we got lost," you laughed, suddenly remembering why you were there on the ship in the first place.

Phasma leaned up, to pull you into a deep, smashing, demanding kiss.

"Y'know, I can't bring myself to care about your little friends. All I care about right now is you.. and cleaning up this little mess you made." Phasma kissed your inner thigh before pulling away to grab anything within reach to clean you up.

And that's when you noticed the damp front side of her shirt and the small wet spot below you.

"Christ, Phas... what have you done to me?"

"Fucked you good, sweet girl. That's what I did."

She was gentle while cleaning you up, and your heart was bursting with love. The last thing you ever imagined, was being treated like a Princess by one of the most badass stormtroopers you have ever met.

general masterlist | gwen masterlist | taglist

[meldelen]

So earlier today I saw this post on Instagram musing about Sauron in The Rings of Power, labelling him as a tragic antihero, with a chance to be redeemed/saved but definitely doomed, and that making him quite attractive as character to the viewer public.

I was thinking about it and I don't really think this fits nor Sauron as character in Tolkien's original lore, but neither in The Rings of Power. Sauron is not an antihero. The way I see it - and I accept I might be wrong - an antihero is a character that has some redeeming qualities, someone who acknowledges that has done evil - which Sauron does - and might repent or not, but unlike Sauron they're not driven by malice, they do not actively seek to cause harm even if they will do at some point, and maybe they will act to repay/compensate the evil done in the past - whether is recent or not - or try to do so, even if it implies the cost of their own life. Morally grey characters, if you want, but with cracks of light in their grey armor.

If you're familiar with Game of Thrones, which is rich in these kind of morally grey characters, I see, for example, Theon Greyjoy or Jaime Lannister as examples of antiheroes. I also want to see an antihero in Raistlin Majere - if you're familiar with Dragonlance - even if he has done so much more evil than the other examples. But the more I try to apply it to Sauron, the less it convinces me.

Maybe Halbrand could've been that antihero they're seeking, if Halbrand had been real. If he had wanted to take the redeeming path he claimed to have when Galadriel was still open to him.

But there's no Halbrand. There's only Sauron. And you can see all his choices as Halbrand, even if claimed to try to find his peace, are poor choices, because he's driven by selfishness: letting Diarmid die and getting the Kingfisher heraldry instead of helping him, abandoning the castaways in the raft to save his own skin, stealing the guild crest instead of earning it, and over all, faking a Southlander king's identity even if reluctant at the beginning. Now, if Halbrand was real, for how much pain he might have caused in the past, this doesn't look like a redeeming path. This doesn't look like antihero, or someone who can be redeemed/saved. Neither is he doomed. Because these are his personal choices, and he could do differently, only he just doesn't want to.

As Annatar, he shows more clearly what he is: a villain, a pure chaotic evil being. The Rings of Power works wonderfully showing he's incredibly complex, and cunning, and clever; not one-dimensional, not the typical mwahahaha villain he was hinted in Peter Jackson's movies because the narrative didn't allow him to be expanded further, but a villain, nevertheless. He does evil, he causes pain, and he does it for his agenda, because he wants it this way, even if he believes otherwise.

The discourse about wanting to heal Middle Earth, creating perfect peace and rejecting Morgoth's sadism and cruelty is just the discourse of a narcissist that believes his own lies and thinks he can do better. Celebrimbor tells him: "You're truly the Great Deceiver. You can even deceive yourself." He really believes in his own bullshit. He thinks he can do better, if only everyone else bend to his will and do what he says when he says so.

Shipping is fun and nice but if you watch season 2 with attention it's horrifying to see what Sauron really is throughout his actions, even if wrapped in the fairest of forms. His cruelty, brutality and outright Machiavellian way with which he manipulates and punishes are painful to watch, specially in the case of Celebrimbor, whom he also admired as a craftsman. The repugnant and sadist way in which he tortures and brutalizes Galadriel with Morgoth's crown because she has rejected him again was the foulest allegory of rape I've ever seen, in an universe where you'll never get sexual scenes, while loyal to Tolkien's lore. He claims not wanting to hurt her, but moments later, he enjoys her agony. And the way he excuses and absolves himself of all his sins because he wants to heal Middle Earth - save, and rule, he sees no difference - and because he was brutalized by Morgoth is also painful to watch.

Tolkien wrote - more or less - that he had served/suffered so much under Morgoth's grip that he fell easily back into evil, for he didn't want to see anymore other way of doing things. He could've done differently, but the exit to his labyrinth was to throw himself at the feet of Manwë and the other Valar and be judged, accepting whatever punishment went to him. But he didn't, for he's unmeasurably proud and would not suffer such humiliation. Beautiful how the show puts in Halbrand's mouth the words "and I knew if ever I was to be forgiven that I had to heal everything that I helped ruin", nice excuse to not go to bow to the Valar. I like to think he's also terrified of the idea he might be cast into the void where Morgoth is now, and be reunited with his former torturer. He made no secret about how much Morgoth still haunts him. But all this sadness and suffering absolve him of his present sins? Of course not. But he thinks they do.

In the end what we have is a cruel, prideful, sadistic, vain and narcissistic villain who has convinced himself that the world will be better when he rules it, and in his mind the order he wants is the suppression of Middle-Earth's people's free will. That doesn't mean he could not have good feelings; as I said, he felt respect and admiration for Celebrimbor, he rejoices at the beauty and peace in Númenor and Eregion - which he'll later destroy - and whatever he feels for Galadriel is genuine as well - it is moving to see how easily he admits and displays his feelings -, but that works as long as they respond to his wishes. When this turns differently, he starts breaking his toys, even if with Galadriel he takes a great amount of patience.

But these genuine feelings are not redeeming qualities. Neither is he doomed, as I said before, he could walk away from this path, he just doesn't want to. He thinks he's the good guy, compared with the monstrosity Morgoth was, he only will use whatever means he needs to meet his ends. And there is not love - the way we understand it, a selfless act of self-delivering - in anything he does, neither towards Galadriel who gets a special treatment in comparison to other characters - Mirdania for example - because unlike the latter, Galadriel means something to him, he sees someone with a similar pride, a similar ambition. What he fails to see is that Galadriel is not driven by evil and malice, because he's unable to recognize that evil and malice in himself.

So, in the end, not antihero, but villain. The worst kind, refusing to see that the real illness of Middle-Earth is himself. As Galadriel very well puts in, "You want to heal Middle-Earth? Heal yourself."

We know he won't listen, and that does not make him tragic either, for tragedy is something uncontrolled, left for the fates, and he is conscious of every step he takes, even if when something fails he lets himself get taken in a wave of rage and despair, as the pathetic being he really is.

The real tragic antihero here has always been Adar. At least him, for much pain and destruction he might have caused serving in Morgoth's/Sauron's armies, wanted something better for his Uruk, and was able to put his pride aside for a different outcome, even if it was too late for him. Now that's a redeeming quality.