#I just like explaining how I think about things
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vaspider · 17 hours ago
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Listen to me. Listen very carefully:
They are trying to wear you out.
They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.
So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.
Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!
Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.
That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.
Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.
Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.
Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.
It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?
Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.
*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.
**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.
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thankskenpenders · 8 hours ago
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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations
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The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!
No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.
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The updated Sonic Generations script
The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.
Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.
Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.
In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:
Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!
This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.
And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"
And then here's Ian's rewrite:
Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.
Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.
And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.
Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.
But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.
Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.
So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...
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Gerald Robotnik's Journal
Hoo boy.
The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.
What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.
Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.
(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)
The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.
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1) The Eclipse Cannon
Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.
Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.
See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)
Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.
Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.
(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)
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2) The Biolizard
The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.
As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.
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3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK
Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.
See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.
So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.
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4) Maria
And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.
For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.
Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.
But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:
Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.
This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.
You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.
It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.
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tookishcombeferre · 2 days ago
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I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.
We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.
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Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.
The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth
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gf2bellamy · 2 days ago
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enough — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3
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part 2
You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?
The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.
Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious. 
There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect. 
But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.
Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.
It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit. 
Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.
Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day. 
Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.
Much harder. 
Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore. 
The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.
You also felt the same way. 
Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you. 
Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something. 
“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present. 
“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out. 
Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully. 
You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.” 
Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.
The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. 
“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom. 
Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. 
It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near. 
People might call you stupid.
Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.
Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.
Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you. 
But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.
And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything. 
The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.
You were scared.
Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.
Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities. 
You didn’t think you were enough for him. 
The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.
Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you. 
Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. 
You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. 
A familiar, soft voice called out your name.
You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark. 
You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.
Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open. 
“There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.” 
Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten. 
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you. 
She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.” 
You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.” 
Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.” 
You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.” 
Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?” 
For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.
Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in. 
“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 
Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.” 
You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.
Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak. 
“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. 
Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it. 
“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?” 
You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.” 
Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.” 
You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you. 
“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.” 
You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?” 
“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.” 
Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity. 
“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest. 
She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.” 
You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.” 
“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. 
You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave. 
They stayed. 
What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins? 
You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.
But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear. 
“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly. 
You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.
The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.
The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved. 
And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. 
The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.
Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth. 
Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.
You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought. 
And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.
But you didn’t do anything about it. 
You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much. 
Still, there were cracks in your resolve. 
You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall. 
One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.
It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air. 
You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.
It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you. 
Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you. 
Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing. 
Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.
“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.” 
You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth. 
He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.” 
Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt. 
“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”
You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work. 
He let it go—for now. 
Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.
You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts. 
With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.  
Then came a knock at your door. 
Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door. 
When you opened it, your breath caught. 
Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.
His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke. 
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady. 
“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” 
“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?” 
You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.
As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.
Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind. 
You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.
Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.” 
Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. 
“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.” 
The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 
He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 
His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat. 
“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible. 
Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes. 
And then he spoke. 
“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade. 
Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears. 
You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 
Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.
He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything. 
But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response. 
The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment. 
“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—” 
“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence. 
Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you. 
“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.
You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 
You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.
Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever. 
"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts. 
His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain. 
“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”
You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.
But it was like you couldn’t stop.
“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”
“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”
“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”
“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”
“Spencer—”
“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”
His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.
“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”
Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”
“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”
He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”
The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.
But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”
For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.
Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.
When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.
Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.
But the words refused to come.
Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.
The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.
You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.
And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.
Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.
You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.
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bogleech · 6 hours ago
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top edits I'd retroactively make to whatever that version of the bible is that my country has such a big boner for (sorry I don't know what the different versions are actually called)
Drop the damnation/salvation system in favor of the kind where seriously only really really cruel selfish people go to hell but they can get out if they're actually nice deep down and are SUPER sorry for real
Take out any kind of sin that's stupid and doesn't make sense, replace with more sensible things like "don't drain wetlands" and "don't have slaves" and "if you find black goop in the ground just leave it there, trust us"
Throw in some handy instructions on what electricity is and how to build a solar panel. I wanna see what this does to the state of technology when I get back.
Explain what germs are and to wash your hands with soap please
Make the apostles more fun, like one of them should definitely be a skeleton guy and one should have plant powers.
Add a B-plot that canonizes the complete events of Adam Sandler's "Little Nicky"
Have God apologize for the existence of suffering but unfortunately all his power got used up to get Darwinian Evolution up and running
Sprinkle details about God's physical appearance all throughout until it's impossible to ignore that this is a description of a little dapper toad
I already ditched the garden of eden obviously because it's stupid but to make doubly sure western society likes snakes let's make jesus a big snake all along, and a venomous one. Biting becomes Jesus's main way of dealing with problems.
Ruin the modern protestant perception of absolute good and evil by having Jesus befriend a cool bad boy demon, which God is only a little concerned by like "(grumpy toad noises) I'm not so sure about this friend of yours young lady"
he will however slowly come around to meeting the demon's parents at a very funny dinner where everything goes TERRIBLY wrong but in the end they can all share a laugh about it
The apocalypse is a cool concept so I'd keep that but change it around so it's heaven, hell and earth uniting against a common foe: the god of the alternate, darker timeline I just erased. Nobody would know what that means but I think that would be compelling in itself. I'd like to see those philosophical debates.
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shoukokus · 1 day ago
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Beautiful day/night (or afternoon) may I request how the overblot characters in twisted wonderland would react to s/o culture clothing? (For example: spanish people have those beautiful colorful traditional spanish dress)
I tried not to make it too specific, so as to not exclude anyone!
Riddle Rosehearts
He firsts sees your cultural clothing while attending a ball in his hometown
It was just for a couple of days, and everyone in Heartslyabul was invited, Deuce, Trey, and Cater were there too. Ace didn't want to go to a stupid event
It took you all day to get ready, and Riddle was beyond curious why you were being so secretive
But when you finally came down the stairs, your stunning garb on display, Riddle knew it was worth the wait
When you explain the significance of your outfit, he's very touched
You waited all this time to wear something so important to you, for an event important to Riddle? Someone hold him, he's about to start crying in the ballroom
Leona Kingscholar
When his family invited him home for a long weekend, the only thing that would make it tolerable would be your presence
He said something about some fancy dinner party really offhandedly, and you came up with an idea to make even THAT fun for Leona Kingscholar
Outside of your room in his palace, he waits for you, tugging at the tie you gave him for some reason
When you come out, ready for the dinner, it all clicks into place. His tie matches your outfit and its colors. But more than that? You look incredible
He smirks as he twirls you around a little, eyeing all the details and any skin that's showing....
You tell him that you wanted to make a good impression, to be proud of your history and culture like his family is... Well, let's just say he's thinking about how to mix those two cultures
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul had potential investors coming to visit, and he was unbelievably nervous the night before
He was pacing, and triple checking all his accounts and even the freshly pressed suit laid out
He reminded you multiple times to have your own outfit ready, and you would assure him every time, don't worry... you got this
When Floyd and Jade escort you into his office a few hours before the event, he looks up and nearly breaks his pen in half
You look incredible! He stands and sputters as he compliments you. How did he get so lucky?! Where were you hiding this? It looks amazing on you and perfectly goes with your features
When you tell him the significance, he starts tearing up. He hugs you, whispering how much he appreciates you and the mindfulness you always give him
Jamil Viper
You and Jamil are having a cozy night in when the topic of cultures came up
With your full attention, Jamil tells you about the Scalding Sands and the society he grew up in
When the topic of clothes come up, you get excited, an opportunity presenting itself
You tell him to wait for just a little bit as you run to your room. He waits curiously until you finally come back
Your attire has been changed and Jamil is stunned. You look amazing!
He watches you with loving, soft eyes as you explain all the details of the outfit and what they mean
Vil Schoenheit
It was the first major event that Vil had invited you too, and the desperation to make it a good experience was palpable
A simple luncheon was surely like the jungle in Vil's world... but he was insistent that you could wear something simple yet elegant
With your cultural clothing, you decided to take the chance
Of course you would need Vil's approval so you invited him over the day before
When he enters your room and sees you inspecting yourself in the mirror, he's immediately entranced. What wonderful colors on you, how it works with your figure and features...
Telling him that it's from your culture, he's not surprised. Of course it would look perfect on you! With a kiss on the head, it is officially Vil approved
Idia Shroud
Idia finally wants to take your relationship to the next level... By showing off his costume collection!!
He has outfits from all sorts of different shows, movies, and games. It may seem silly, but they're very important to him
So the next day, you decide to reciprocate in a similar way
You invite him over for the usual game and snack night, but when he opens the door, he's greeted by you in a new, brilliant outfit
He thinks it's amazing, but is unclear on what it means. When you explain that you wanted to show him care in your own way, his hair turns a light pink
You.. showed him your important clothes in response to his important clothes? Yeah, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you
Malleus Draconia
Malleus had just bought you a ton of new clothes. It's not unusual for him to go buying up things for you when the impulse strikes
This time he had been thinking about how wonderful you'd look in some traditional Briar Valley clothing, and then... nine outfits happened
When it all arrives, an impromptu fashion starts as you try everything on to test sizes and styles
He's helping you sort through everything and hang things up when he spots an outfit he's never seen before
You tell him that it's the only change of clothes you came to Twisted Wonderland with, that it was important to your culture and meant a lot, but just hadn't the time or reason to wear it
Immediately demands to see it, and you agree. When you come out looking like the sun itself, he pulls you close and promises to keep your heritage alive and well
Requests are open!
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chasingmywhitecoat · 21 hours ago
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Btw there’s classmates of mine at MEDICAL SCHOOL who have fallen into this similar way of thinking about hormones because social media has continuously demonised hormonal birth control and made it seem as one of the main reasons for “hormone imbalances”.
It’s gone so far that many of them say they would not prescribe their patients oral birth control and I have tried to explain numerous times that not only have these medications given people who use them unprecedented reproductive freedom, but they are also the only way for some individuals to survive-like those living with debilitating conditions (e.g. endometriosis) to no avail.
Science literacy and also using your brain has never been more important than now.
My point is that while these medications are not perfect and there’s research being done about that (like causing some micronutrient deficiencies, as well as the more known increased risk of deep vein thrombosis etc.), the way most people seem to be thinking about them at the moment because of all this social media stigma is becoming harmful already.
It also illustrates just how powerful social media is- even people trained in this exact thing, who studied the human body and science behind it, fall victim to the narrative of social media. Science literacy and rational thinking are the best way to fight this imo, but social media is very good at facilitating someone’s agenda.
Bombarding people day in and day out with a certain viewpoint has turned out to be an effective way of making them believe it and it has never been more important than now (with the rise of the right) to take a step back and look at credible sources for things.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Join me on my journey to finally unbalance my hormones, toxify my body, boost my inflammation, maximize my cortisol and absolutely destroy my gut health.
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always-azriels-princess · 24 hours ago
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The Wrong Thing part two
Guysss i did it :) im so proud
Summary: the mate bond snaps, and you say the wrong thing
Part 1
Word Count: 1.4K
Azriel was avoiding you. You knew it, he knew it, the entire Inner Circle knew it. Feyre had tried to approach you a couple times to figure out what had happened, but you never answered the knocks on your door.
It was embarassing, and yet you completely understood why your mate didn't want you. The haunted look in his eyes that night appeared in your nightmares each night, and each one ended with you waking up, slicked with sweat and panting as if just finishing a marathon.
Bags had started to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep, and Azriel wasn't looking much better. You had overheard Rhys talking to Feyre on multiple occasions about how Azriel was getting unfocused during missions, sloppy during training, and quick to anger in simple conversations.
You knew you had to fix your mistake, but it was hard to think of how your mate would look at you, like he never wanted to see you again. And you didn't even blame him, you wouldn't want to see yourself either after what you had done.
"No."
The words hung around your neck, suffocating you every second of every day like a noose growing tighter and tighter. Rhys had also noticed your work as a diplomat for the Night Court was diminishing in its thoroughness.
Nuala knocked on your door, as you were deep in some paperwork updating the new peace treaty with Winter. "Come in," you called.
"Good afternoon miss," Nuala said as she walked in. "The High Lord would like to see you in his office."
You sighed, expecting something like this after on your and Azriel's actions in the past week. "Thank you Nuala, I'll be right there."
The chair scraped back after you stood up, shuffling the papers and stuffing them in a drawer.
Dread coiled in your gut as you made your way to the High Lord's office, worried he would make you confront what you had been trying so hard to hide from.
You knocked thrice quietly, hoping Rhys had maybe left to go get a snack and you could sneak back into your room. To no avail, you heard a faint "come in," and you took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
The breath you had previously took escaped you as you gazed over every inch of the shadowsinger, completely ignoring the High Lord sitting at his desk, smirking with his "I'm so amazing" face.
As you drank in the image of your mate, his shadows clung to him, wrapping around his body like a second skin, while others writhed around his feet, swarming and twisting in chaotic patterns. The tension in the room increased ten-fold and the air around Azriel began to darken, his very presence sucking in the light around him. His adam's apple bobbed as he traced your every curve, as if committing the image to memory.
You just stood in the doorway, both you and your mate frozen, staring at each other, before Rhys cleared his throat and you snapped out of your trance, breaking your eye contact with your mate. As you sat down on the opposite side of the couch Azriel was on,
"Now, you probably know why I called you in," Rhys explained. "This," he gestured wildly, waving his hands between you two, "needs to stop. Azriel, you've almost completely dropped your training schedule, and I have reports from your informants that you're missing their check-ins." He turned to you, "And you are three days behind on the paperwork for the Winter Court peace treaty renewal."
Rhys sighed and stood up, walking towards the door. Before exiting the room, he turned back and said, "I don't know what's going on with you two, and I'm not going to snoop through your heads to figure it out, but something clearly happened, so you can leave this room when you are back to normal." With a wave of his hand, the door closed behind him as he walked away, and you could hear the soft click of the lock turning, keeping you stuck in a room with male who wanted nothing to do with you.
The air in the room was thick, suffocating. The silence between you and Azriel seemed to stretch endlessly, like the tension before a storm. He sat on the couch across from you, his posture rigid, every muscle in his body taut, like he was ready to shadow away at any second.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him at first. The guilt gnawed at your insides, raw and jagged, but you forced yourself to breathe, slow and steady, to calm the racing in your chest. The room was too quiet, and yet every sound felt amplified. The way his shadows whispered, curling and slithering at his feet, the way his eyes seemed to burn into you from across the room.
He was avoiding you, but you were avoiding him too.
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat, suffocating you before they even had a chance to leave your lips.
Azriel spoke first, his voice low and strained. "You don’t have to do this." It was almost a whisper, his words laced with pain and, not anger...no, something more vunerable. Insecurity.
"Do what?" you finally managed, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. "Talk about it?"
His voice was low and strained. "You have already made your feelings very clear, and I would never try to force you into anything you don't want."
You sat up, confused. "Az, I never said I didn't want the bond. I was overjoyed when it snapped, but I....I panicked because I know that you deserve someone better than me."
His beautiful hazel eyes softened. "But...you said no. The bond snapped and you said no." His voice was getting louder and faster as he spoke. "You were right, you shouldn't want this bond, I'm broken and scarred, and you're so....so perfect."
An ache spread through your chest, as though all the fragile pieces of your heart had shattered at once, leaving sharp fragments to tear at your insides.
"Azriel," your voice cracked as tears filled your eyes. You shifted closer on the couch, until your legs were brushing against his. "I told you this that night, and I will tell you again. You. Are. Not. Weak. You are not broken, you are not scarred, you do not have a single flaw unless it is loving your family too much. I can never take back what I said that night, and I will replay that moment in my head for the rest of my life, praying to be able to go back in the past and change it. You have a such a pure heart, so do not think for one moment that you are not deserving of me. I am the one who doesn't deserve you." You finished your speech, a soft, uneven breath escaping you.
Azriel stared into your soul, his eyes softening with wonder and adoration. He smiled softly as he drew closer. When you felt his warm breath on your face, he murmured, "Why don't we just agree that we both deserve each other," and closed the distance between you. His lips met yours, and it was like the world fell away and the only thing that mattered was the male in front of you. His hand slid from your face to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. It was slow, unhurried, like you both had all the time in the world. You smiled against his lips, fingers threading through the dark strands of his hair as you leaned into him, deepening the kiss.
The taste of him, the feel of him, was overwhelming in the best way. It was like coming home, like a storm finally releasing the tension it had held for so long. You regretfully pulled away, resting your forehead against his. You were finally home.
The peace of the moment was shattered as the door was thrown in, what seemed to be the entire court of Velaris pushing themselves through. Cassian laughed deeply, sweeping Az off the couch and hugging him "Finally!" he exclaimed. Mor, who was bawling her eyes out, flung herself at you, knocking yourself back against the couch. "THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" You paused for a second, then laughed and hugged her back.
Rhys came in with Feyre on his arm, looking all too smug. "I told you Feyre darling, I'm a genius."
Feyre smacked him upside the head.
@lilah-asteria >3 ilsym you are my first tag ever and i'm so grateful for the support so thank youuuu
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bloggerspam · 2 days ago
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Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie
This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.
Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.
Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)
===
"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"
Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.
It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.
When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.
"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."
"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"
"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."
"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."
"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."
The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."
"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.
"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."
Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.
"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"
Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"
"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."
"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"
"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"
"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."
The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"
Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.
"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."
"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"
"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."
Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."
"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."
"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.
"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."
Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."
Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."
"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."
Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."
Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."
Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."
"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"
"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."
"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."
"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.
"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"
Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?
Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.
Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—
"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."
"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"
"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."
"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.
"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.
A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.
They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.
There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.
Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"
"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"
Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.
Did he mention abs? And arms??
The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.
His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.
Tim kind of wants to cry.
"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"
Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"
Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.
Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."
Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.
"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.
Seriously, Tim might die.
"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"
Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.
"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.
"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"
"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"
"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."
Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.
"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"
"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"
Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"
"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."
"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.
"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"
"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.
"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"
"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.
"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"
Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"
"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.
"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."
Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."
Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.
"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.
"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"
"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."
Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.
"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.
It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.
Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.
"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."
"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"
"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"
Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.
It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.
"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"
Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.
He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.
"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"
"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"
"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.
Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.
"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.
"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."
Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"
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kashverse · 14 hours ago
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gojo’s sweet tooth is a menace. you learned that early on when he asked for “a bit” of sugar in his coffee and ended up turning it into something closer to a dessert syrup. so, of course, when you bake a pear and berry pie—already sweet enough, mind you—he sneaks in extra sweetener when he thinks you aren’t looking. he’s not very subtle about it. the first time, you almost missed it, but then you saw his telltale smug grin, a bit too pleased with himself as he “innocently” leaned against the counter.
"toru," you deadpan, arms crossed.
"what? i’m just appreciating your hard work," he says, licking a stray bit of filling off his finger like he's in a commercial.
"you’re ruining my pie."
"nah, i’m improving your pie," he corrects, already reaching for another spoonful.
nanami, on the other hand, is far less chaotic. he keeps things simple—apple pie, nothing fancy. no extra fillings, no surprise ingredients, just a good ol’ classic that never lets him down. it’s his go-to for the weekends, whether he makes it himself (precisely measured, no shortcuts) or picks one up from the bakery he trusts more than some of his coworkers. sometimes, you’ll walk into the kitchen and find him in the middle of rolling out dough with the same focus he has when reading financial reports. if you joke about him being a househusband, he’ll sigh, wipe his hands on a towel, and say, "do you want pie or not?"
toji doesn’t bake. he doesn’t have time, patience, or, honestly, the self-control to wait for something to cool down before eating it. but after a long day, when you casually hand him a slice of pumpkin pie, he takes it without a word. he’s not big on admitting things, so he just eats it, nodding once in approval, like that’s the most gratitude you’re going to get. but the real giveaway is how he never turns it down. ever. even if he’s pretending like he doesn’t care.
geto loves pecan pie. no debate. no discussion. no hesitation. the man would probably start a war over it if necessary. you once offered him a slice of something else, and he gave you such a disappointed look that you almost felt guilty.
"you’re really this attached to pecan pie?" you asked, watching as he took slow, deliberate bites like he was savoring each one.
"it’s a masterpiece," he said, as if that explained everything.
choso is all about cherry pie, mostly because he likes the tint it leaves behind. after eating it, he’ll glance in the mirror and smile a little at the way his lips look stained, like a kid who got into something he shouldn’t have. sometimes, he’ll grin at you with his mouth still full just to make you roll your eyes.
"cho, you look like you just drank blood."
"cool, right?"
and then there’s sukuna. you have to physically stop him from turning a normal, innocent chicken pie into something… horrific.
"you can’t put human meat in it."
"why not?"
"it’s a chicken pie."
"so?"
you glare at him. he stares back, unbothered.
"suku, if i turn around and find out you’ve replaced the filling, i swear to god—"
he smirks. "you wouldn’t even know the difference."
"i would. you know why? because i would throw up."
he just laughs, because, really, who needs horror movies when you live with him?
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little-jana · 2 days ago
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“Perfectly Thought Out”
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Words: 1.15k
Summary: Finding the perfect gift for Spencer was not easy, but you did it.
It had taken you weeks to figure out the perfect gift for Spencer Reid. Weeks of mental back and forth, second-guessing, and doubt. Because really, what do you give someone like Spencer? A man with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and an endless well of knowledge? Someone who could rattle off obscure facts about obscure things before you’d even finished your coffee?
You’d been desperate to give him something thoughtful, something that wouldn’t just end up collecting dust on a shelf in his apartment. And you think you’d finally nailed it. Or at least, you hoped you had.
Now, standing in the BAU’s break room with a carefully wrapped box tucked under your arm, you felt your nerves kick in. This was the first chance you’d gotten to give him his present, and the anticipation was eating you alive.
“Hey,” his voice broke through your thoughts, soft but warm.
You turned to see him standing in the doorway, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His messenger bag was slung over one shoulder, and his scarf hung loosely around his neck, a hint of the autumn chill still clinging to him from outside.
“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “I, uh, have something for you.”
“For me?” His eyebrows lifted in surprise, his curiosity immediately piqued.
You nodded, holding out the box with both hands. “It’s… kind of a late birthday gift. I thought you might like it.”
Spencer set his bag down on the counter and took the box from you with the kind of care you’d use to handle something fragile. His long fingers brushed against yours briefly, and you tried not to think too much about the way it made your heart flutter.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said softly, his gaze flickering up to meet yours.
“I wanted to,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. “Just… open it.”
He hesitated for a moment, then carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, his movements methodical and deliberate. When he lifted the lid of the box, his breath hitched.
Inside was a leather-bound journal, hand-stitched and worn just enough to give it character. But it wasn’t just the journal itself that made it special. On the first page, you’d written a small note explaining that you’d already filled some of the pages with questions and prompts—things you thought he’d enjoy pondering or writing about. Things that would challenge him or make him smile.
And tucked into the back pocket of the journal was a collection of vintage fountain pens you’d spent weeks hunting down online, knowing how much he loved handwriting notes and letters.
He stared at the journal in stunned silence, his fingers gently tracing the cover. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes were wide and glistening.
“This is…” he trailed off, clearly struggling to find the words. “This is incredible.”
“Do you like it?” you asked nervously, biting your bottom lip.
“Like it?” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. “I love it. This is… I don’t even know what to say.”
You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to have something that felt like you. Something thoughtful.”
He opened the journal to the first page, his eyes scanning over the note you’d written. You watched as a small, almost shy smile spread across his face, and your chest tightened at how beautiful he looked in that moment.
“This is one of the most thoughtful gifts anyone has ever given me,” he said, his voice quiet but full of emotion.
You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze. “I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate you. You’re always so thoughtful with everyone else, Spencer. I figured it was time someone returned the favor.”
He set the journal down on the counter and stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Really. This means so much to me.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice just as soft.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. And then, just when you thought you might drown in the tension, he reached out and pulled you into a hug.
It wasn’t just any hug, though. It was the kind of hug that made you feel safe, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest.
“Thank you,” he murmured again, his voice muffled against your hair.
You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to savor the moment. “You’re welcome, Spencer.”
When he finally pulled back, there was a softness in his expression that you’d never seen before. It made your heart ache in the best way.
“Would you…” he hesitated, looking almost nervous. “Would you want to come over tonight? I’d love to show you how I use the journal. Maybe we could talk about some of the prompts together.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the invitation. But the hopeful look in his eyes made it impossible to say no.
“I’d like that,” you said, smiling softly.
The grin that spread across his face was worth every second of doubt you’d had while planning his gift. And as you left the break room, your heart felt a little lighter, knowing that you’d made Spencer Reid feel as special as he deserved to feel.
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mylovesstuffs · 3 days ago
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OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth
Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??
A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛
I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.
Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.
Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.
Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.
Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.
Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(
Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.
Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.
Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.
Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT
Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.
Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.
Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.
Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.
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miniwheat77 · 1 day ago
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Loser. (Soap x Virgin!Reader.)
!NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, innocent reader, NO MINORS!
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Unedited*
“You’d hit that? Even with how innocent Y/N is?”
“Ugh. Until her fuckin’ legs shake mate.” Soap laughs. Gaz rolls his eyes, laughing too. “You’re sick.”
“Nah, I think it’s an act.” Soap smirks. “No twenty-something year old is that naive.”
He doesn’t realize you’re listening on the other side of the door. They’d chose to have this conversation right outside the office you usually worked in. It was late and they didn’t figure you were still inside.
———
Later that night, you’re in the watch tower alone. It’s dark out, it’s pretty late. Soap is supposed to be up here with you, but you’re early. You’re curious about what he had said. What he meant by it anyways. Hit that? Until your legs shake? What does that even mean? You wanted to ask but also knew how wrong it had been of you to eavesdrop in the first place.
Soap walks through the door and startles you out of your daydream and you act as if you hadn’t heard his entire conversation earlier with Gaz. “Hey little lady.” He smiles. “Hi Johnny.” You smile back at him. Looking away quickly. He can tell that you’re acting off. “Everything alright?” He asks. “Uh.. yeah.” You mumble. He can tell you’re off. You knew that you should have listened to the others on base and stayed away from him. Sarah and Layla had told you on more than one occasion to stay away from him but had never actually explained why. You knew that the two could be a little overdramatic at times.
“I have a question actually.” Soap says, sliding a chair up to sit next to you. “Why do you wear your hair like that?” He asks.
“L-like what?” You brush it down. He makes you nervous, you aren't sure why.
“It’s always done up real nice. Sometimes you even got cute clips in it and stuff.” He toys with the ends that hang by your face, seeing the way your cheeks redden by his touch alone. You look down with a laugh. “Uh.. I’m not sure. I guess it’s just something I picked up on from my mo-“ you pause, shaking your head.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “Uh.. it’s just… I guess I just don’t like to talk about my parents.” You mumble. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’ll listen anytime you’d like.” He smiles, resting a hand on your knee. It doesn’t seem like it, but Johnny is being genuine. The other girls' words are always echoing around in your head. Johnny seemed nice and you needed to ignore what they said sometimes.
“They uh… they were very religious. So far beyond the normal extent that it was like a cult.” You look up at him. “No offense but is that kind’ve why you’re a little…”
“Sheltered?” You smile. “Well I wasn’t gonna say it.” He laughs.
“Yes it is. They didn’t let me have exposure to stuff like TV or books. Homeschooled all my life, expected to be well kempt and tidy. I guess some things just stuck. My room is spotless and my hair is always fixed.” You shrug. He smiles. “I like it though. Wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t I suppose.” He laughs.
“So. I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I heard you talking to Gaz earlier.”
Soaps cheeks nearly light on fire.
“Uhhh. You weren’t supposed to hear it.” He laughs. “I’m sorry.”
“Well if you’re saying sorry it means it wasn’t good, what you were saying. I don’t know what that means.”
He furrows his brows in confusion. “Do uh… you not know what Sex is?”
Your eyes widen. “What? Y-yeah I know what it is. What does that have to do with this?” He sees the way you start to backtrack. How nervous you get talking about it. “I’d hit that” he laughs, repeating himself. In disbelief you have no idea what he meant when he said it. He looks down at the ground away from you. “It’s… a slang term. For sex.” He laughs. You look confused. “You’ve never heard it?” He asks. “No. I know what sex is but I’ve not mapped out the slang terms I guess. So what you were saying.” You swallow hard. Eyes finally moving up to meet his. You're starting to realize what he had meant. “You…” You’re very hesitant. “I would have sex with you, that’s what I meant.” He laughs. You try to play it off with a small laugh but he can see that you’re different now. “I’ve.. I’ve never um…” you rest your hand on the back of your chair. “I know. I can tell.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "I honestly thought that this was some kind of act you were putting up. Until you mentioned your parents. I feel like a dick now. I shouldn't have said what I said and I want you to know that what I was saying was really disrespectful of me. I shouldn't have been saying anything like that." He looks down at his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
"What?" You ask. "I thought that wanting to have sex with someone is like a compliment or something." You mumble. "It is. Well. Kind of." He shakes his head with a laugh. "Look. It's awkward but I'll teach you all of the stupid slang terms alright? It doesn't make sense, you're supposed to grow up hearing this stuff and learn what it means along the way alright?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Okay. Yeah. Got it. " You blush. "Thank you Johnny." You mumble. "Course.” He laughs.
“You said something else too uh… until my legs shake? What does that mean?” Johnny’s face is on fire, embarrassed and blushing. How is he supposed to explain this away?
He sighs. “Well. This is what I get for being gross ah?” He laughs. “Sometimes during sex if it’s.. rough enough or good enough, your legs will shake. I guess. It’s more complex than that. You know.. Um... I'm gonna write down a website and I want you to look it up. Don't be scared alright? And don't watch it with anyone else around, it's bad."
"If it's bad why are you telling me to watch it?" You ask. "Because... It's about sex and you know how apprehensive you are about it. Everyone else is too. This website it's for adults only, watch it alone. You'll understand. If you see something you want to know about you can ask me or research it on like... an incognito browser on your phone. I'll show you how to do that too." He mumbles. He picks up a piece of printer paper and looks around until he finds a pen. He writes down the very familiar website and than shows you on your phone how to get to an incognito browser. Reminding you to never watch it with people around.
You have an idea of what he's telling you to look up.
Later that night when you’re off watch, you’re making sure your earbuds are connected to your phone before you look up the website he’s telling you about, the front page is intimidating enough before you even click on a video.
Hours later you’re still awake. The amount of terms you’ve learned about, the videos you’ve seen.
You feel corrupted.
Urban Dictionary and a Porn website have turned your entire life around. No wonder your parents kept you sheltered.
You finally fall asleep just a couple hours before you’re supposed to be awake. A new ache between your legs and you’re unsure how to fix it or make it feel better. The next day, you’re exhausted but everything you had learned the night before changed your perspective on everything. The conversations you had overheard from the men on base suddenly made so much sense. Why Layla and Sarah had told you to stay far away from Johnny made so much sense now.
“Uh.. Earth to Y/N. You alright?” Ghost waves his hand in your face and you jerk back away from him, swallowing hard. “Uh.. yeah. Sorry. Just didn’t sleep well.”
“Something keeping you awake love?” Ghost places his hand on your knee and Johnny watches across from the table as you go completely stiff, looking down at his hand. “Yeah.” You say it, “wait no. No I mean no. Sorry.” You shake your head, standing up fast. “Just slept in too late yesterday. I’ve got to go get some paperwork done.” You mumble. “See you guys around.” You wave, hurrying out of the mess hall and into your office. “What was that about?” Ghost laughs. "I think she's just stressed." Johnny laughs. He was getting a little nervous by your reaction. Maybe he had given you too much all at once.
———
You were desperate. You didn't care anymore. It had been almost two weeks since Johnny had showed you the website. He'd answered any questions you had, didn't matter how awkward.
You had so much pent up arousal. You were horny from days and days of watching nothing but videos. You wanted anything. You hurried up the watch tower stairs, heart thudding in your chest. You step inside, nerves growing as you such in a sharp breath. “Hey, everything okay?” He asks.
You swallow hard. “Yeah…”
“No not really.” You mumble. You take your seat like usual and face away from Johnny for a second. You don’t know how to ask him for help, you feel shameful. “What’s goin on? I do somn?” He asks. “Yeah. Yeah you did. You showed me what porn is and now I feel weird all of the time.” You huff. He laughs. “You don’t feel weird. You’re just horny.” You sigh. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes. “Yeah well. It sucks!” You groan. You feel tears pricking your eyes from your frustration. “What, touching yourself isn’t enough?” He laughs. “Touching myself?”
The thought of you doing that sounds foreign. “Oh dear… don’t tell me you’ve been watching 2 weeks worth of porn and haven’t made yourself cum.” He laughs. You stay quiet. “Poor girl, no wonder you’re so frustrated.” He laughs. You stand up, pacing back and forth slow. You’re trying to think to yourself. “I don’t really know how, no really. I’ve seen videos but they’re usually not helpful in the slightest.” Johnny glides his tongue over his bottom lip. Seeing you so frustrated has him a little riled up himself. “I.. not sure how much trust me.” He laughs.
You turn to look at him. Your pupils are blown wide.
“I could show you… if you wa-“
You nod your head before he even finishes his sentence. He leans forward in his chair, motioning you to come forward with his fingers. Your stomach fills with butterflies.
“Just uh.. take a deep breath, alright?” You nod your head. You’re still standing a ways away from him. He reaches out, pulling you forward by the back of your thigh, until you’re right directly in front of him. He looks up at you. “S’alright lass. Nothing to be nervous about.” He mumbles. You’ve sat next to Johnny sure, but this is different. You’re closer to him than you ever have been. He smells like cologne and hair pomade. You close your eyes as you he reaches for your cargo pants. You don’t make any movements to stop him. He continues. He unbuttons them, slow. He doesn’t want to startle you or move too fast. He wants to give you ample time to stop him. You have a choice, he wants to make that known. He tugs them down slightly, you close your eyes tight. Biting your lip. What you were about to trust him with was a lot. Further than you’ve ever gone with anyone else.
He grasps the waistband of your panties, pushing them down just far enough he could get a hand between them and your skin. He glides his hand between them.
Johnny glides the side of his pointer finger across your slit. Collecting your arousal on his finger. When he draws it away he can see just how wet you are. It drives him fucking crazy.
He parts his fingers, seeing strings of your arousal across them. His cock is rock hard in seconds, by far the most turned on he’s ever been in his life. He lets out a laugh. Shaking his head. “My god you are wet.” he shakes his head, biting his lip. He growls under his breath. He wants to devour you. Fuck you until your legs really shake, until you’re crying out for more. “You been watching more videos, Bonnie?” He asks. You nod your head. “See you’ve found one you like” he chuckles. You chew at your lip nervously. “Johnny..” you whine. “Hm?”
“I want to know what it feels like to cum..” you look down at him. “Please show me.” You whine.
“I’ll show you, doll. Just relax into me okay?” He breathes. “Cmere, why don’t you sit in my lap.” He pulls you forward. You spin around, sitting down on him. You can feel his erection pressing into you. He pushes your cargo pants and panties down further, until one of your legs is completely free. “Prop your leg up on me, don’t be shy.” He sighs. His warm breath is right against your ear. He pushes your hair behind your ear, he wants you to hear him. He’s going to talk you through it.
“Just watch my hand. Do as I say. I’ll show you how lass.” He breathes. You nod your head. Your face is hot, in such a daze you barely even know what’s going on around you. “I’m so horny Johnny.. I can’t take it.” You cry. Tears filling your eyes. “Just watch darling..” he trails his hand across your bare stomach, he’d pulled your shirt up. Pushing down, until his huge hand glides over your mound. Stopping just right at the top. He circles over your clit with two of his fingers, feeling you jump against him. “It’s going to be really sensitive. Since you’ve never touched here before, alright?” You nod your head. You’re panting. “It’s your clit. You try.” He moved his hand lower, drawing circles around your opening as you start to rub your clit. You’re getting more comfortable, relaxing into him. “That’s it. Just keep doing that for me, yeah.” He breathes. He raises his hand to his mouth. Using his saliva to wet down his fingers enough. Circling his spit over your hole. He’s prepping you.
“Deep breath.” He mumbles. You nod your head.
He doesn’t have to stretch you too much. He pushes his finger in, feeling you tense up. “Oh god.” You pant. Wiggling your hips lower into him. You pause your movement, whining out. “Keep rubbing your clit baby. I didn’t say to stop.” He breathes. His voice is low and sexy. He’s turned on. A side of Johnny you hadn’t seen.
He pairs another finger up, pushing it back into you. You gasp, clutching his wrist with your free hand. “There you go darling.” Your breaths get a little more rigid. Nearly panting out as he fingers you. “Keep going darling. Gentle, not too fast now.” He guides you.
“I- oh god!” You cry. “There you go baby. That’s it… give it to me.” He whines, raising his hips into you. You can tell he wants relief of his own.
You grasp his hand, forcing him away. “Woah- hey. Everything okay?” He asks. You stand on one leg. Turning so that you could straddle his lap. Sitting down on him again. “F-fuck..” he grits his teeth. “What’re you doing?”
“I want to know what it’s like.” You look him in the eyes. “Y/N.” He warns. He knows what it is you want.
“Johnny.” You repeat his name back. “Your virginity is really important. I think you’re just really turned on. Not thinking straig-“ he clenches his eyes shut as you rut your hips into his. He swallows hard. “You can’t take it back. Once you do it with me, I’ll always be your first.” He breathes. “I think you should really think about it.” He swallows hard. “I think I’ve got my mind made up, MacTavish.” You sigh, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt. You lean into him, lips brushing over his. You kiss him, hard. He can feel your heart thumping in your chest.
Johnny is in shock. Because this isn’t just another hook up and you’re not just another girl.
You’re Y/N. The girl who is supposed to be so far out of his reach, out of his league even. You’re not someone Johnny ever expected to be sitting in his lap, wanting more than just a kiss even. Wanting to…
He has to draw himself out of his trance. You want your first to be him. And Johnny up until this point is recognized as a scumbag. Everyone knows it. He’s desperate for any kind of attention he’ll get. He knows that this is how people feel about him. Maybe they don’t know him, don’t know that he wants to be loved. He wants it all, using any way he can to get it, even if it does make him look like an asshole.
Not anymore. Johnny wants your attention. Yours and yours only, he knows it.
“Okay.. look at me.” He pushes back. “If you want me to do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You nod your head. “We’ll go slow. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to know that this is how you should be treated. Always. Okay?” You nod your head.
He unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans down his thighs just enough. You swallow hard at the size of him, not sure what you were expecting. “Are you sure?” You nod your head. Looking at him. You prop yourself up and he helps you. Spitting in his hand and gliding it up his cock. If he had lube he’d use it. Knowing how bad this is about to hurt you. Once he’s got himself lined up with your entrance, you’re eager. Pushing yourself down onto him. He tries to force you to be gentle. You’re in a hurry. Desperate to have him inside of you.
Once you get to that point, where you start to stretch, you slow. Biting your lip. He can tell it’s starting to hurt.
“It’s okay- it’s alright lass. Deep breath for me.” Soaps face crunches up in pleasure, trying his best to conceal it because he doesn’t want to enjoy this when you’re not.
“Oh fuck…” he pants. His voice is so unsteady you can’t help but smile. “Are you okay Johnny?”
“Y-yeah. You just feel so fucking good.” He smiles, eyes closing. “Just a little more, you’re doing so good for me.” He pants. You hiss, and he hesitates. Drawing his hips back into the chair and raising you up slightly. He gathers more arousal at the tip of his cock. Spearing you further onto him. It’s easier to slide like this.
“I’m going to push all of the way alright? Deep breath.” He lowers you completely, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He takes in a sharp breath, standing up with you. It’s not the best place for it, but not the worst. He lays you right on the ground. It’s clean, you’d just cleaned it the night before.
The feeling of all of his body weight on you is intimidating. Something you’ve never felt before. He takes one deep thrust and you’re gasping out, a cry leaving your lips as he penetrates to the deepest parts of you. Just like that, it’s over.
You have your eyes screwed shut and he gives you a couple minutes to adjust before he starts fucking you. He’s slow, trying to ease the pain.
And it works. Your eyes soften as they slowly open, lips going from locked shut to parted. Your hands had a tight hold on his shirt and they’re staring to relax. You were dead quiet, but as he moves you start to pant.
You’re starting to like it.
Soap sighs, thank god.
He keeps a steady pace until he knows you can take more and then he’s rocking his hips into you deeper. “Oh god Johnny.” You mewl, opening your legs wider for him. Giving him complete access to you. His eyes widen.
Johnny has been with his fair share of women, each different from the last. You’re by far the most gentle, skin soft against his. Your clutches are even soft when you run your hands through his mow hawk and grip it. Your body is like a clouded temple and the fact that he’s been allowed inside is something Johnny is going to cherish, he’s never letting this go. He’s made up his mind.
He starts driving himself into you at a brutal pace. You’re trying your best to stay quiet but it’s hard. “Ah, Johnny. S’a lot.” You breathe. “Deep breathes, I said I’d make your legs shake and I intend on it darling.” He chuckles. You can’t help but blush.
He expected it to be easier, but you’re taking a lot. “Johnny I- I’m gonna cum!” You whine. Your legs start to shiver just slightly and he smiles. “Go on doll, show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the knot building and how his cock stimulates the perfect place to make it unwind. He’s getting overwhelmed. This is the first time you’ll ever cum. Not just that. The first time you’ll ever cum, and it’s around his cock. Not from your fingers, or even his. Not a pillow you’re desperately rutting into. Around Johnny’s dick.
He lowers his hand, pressing his fingertips into your clit and your mouth parts in shock, how good he feels is unmatched. A cry barely leaves your lips and he covers your mouth with his hand. Fucking you into your high. When you hit it, your legs shake.
Just like in the videos.
You’re on the verge of crying when Johnny hits his high. He’s panting and whining and it’s almost pathetic as he reaches it. He doesn’t think to pull out.
———
“Y/N. He’s just using you. He wants to fuck you and then dump you. That’s who he is. He’s a loser.” Layla rolls her eyes.
Her words cut through you like a knife. “I.. why are you saying that?”
“Because it’s what guys like him do Y/N. He doesn’t want anything serious. He’d have a girlfriend if that were the case. I bet his body count would cripple you because he’s just a gross loser. He wants sex and no offense, but you’re naive and he knows if he shows up and shows out you’ll be dumb enough to give it to him. No offense.” She waves her hand. “I’m not trying to be a bitch but it’s true. I’m not saying to listen to me, I’m just warning you before you catch feelings and get your heart broken. You heard how he used to talk about you.”
You nod your head. “Thank you.” You mumble, turning away from her. The tears are hot as they spill over your eyelids the moment she can’t see your face anymore. You hurry away.
She was going to go find Johnny.
“I know you’re trying to get your claws into Y/N, but you need to stay away from her.”
She catches Johnny off guard, he’d just gotten off of watch with you. “What are you talking about?” He hurries to cover up the love bites he's got on his neck from you.
“I’m talking about how you’ve been spending so much time with her. I know you. You’re nothing but a loser looking for someone who will put out for you. That’s not her. So leave her alone.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got it wrong.”
“Do I? Because everyone here has heard the way you talk about her and other women.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have anything to prove to you okay? I’m friends with Y/N and I care a lot about her whether you believe it or not." He's getting angry. "Whatever. I guess since she's so stupid and naïve we'll find out when you get her to fuck you." The words are laced with venom.
His face goes stone cold and he pauses, standing straight up and taking a step toward her. He's sharp with her.
"She's not stupid. Say whatever you want about me. Call me a loser, fine. But if you say that to me again we will have a much bigger problem on our hands." He's stern and his voice is quiet. "She's smart and she's had it rough. She's learning everything day by day. Naïve yes. Stupid? Absolutely not. Now back off." He growls. She is a little intimidated but she plays it off with a huff and leaves. His reaction to her calling you stupid had taken her completely off guard.
Maybe he really did have feelings for you.
———
"You know, one way to really find out if he likes her is to hit on him and see if he takes the bait." She shrugs. "Yeah, but I don't want to hurt Y/N by doing that." She sighs. "Layla, she'll get hurt even worse if she gives her V card up to that loser and he treats her like shit after." Her eyes are wide as she looks at her.
"I know Sarah. I guess you're right. Let's give it a go. But I already pissed him off so it's got to be you." She looks up from her tray of food. "Gross. Whatever." She scoffs.
The two wait until that night. Soap gets to the watch tower first and she takes the opportunity, heading up the stairs. Layla stays at the bottom of the stairs just in case.
She wants to stop you at the bottom and give Sarah enough time to do what she needs to do.
"Uh.. something wrong?" You ask. You startle her, she hadn't been paying attention. "Shit! You scared me. No- no nothing is wrong. I just really needed to ask you a question and it couldn't wait." Her response is fast and it has you narrowing your eyes. "What is it?"
"It's... uhh." She pauses, trying to come up with something on the fly. "Look.. about you and Soap..."
"Jesus Layla, I've already starting retracting from him, I really just want this all behind us." You groan, pushing passed her. "Wait!" She grasps your hand. "What is going on? Why are you stalling to keep me down here?" You tear your arm out of her grasp and move further up the stairs but she's hot on your tail. "She's testing him!"
You pause right outside the door. "What?"
"She's going to hit on him to see if he'd cave. Y/N we don't want you to get hurt by him.” She says. "Jesus Christ." You reach for the handle but pause when you hear Soap.
"Sarah, I'm not interested okay? I've told you like 3 times now. I... I like Y/N. And I'm sure she wouldn't like knowing that you're doing this. Because I respect her enough, the moment she comes through those doors I'll tell her." He takes a step back.
You and Layla can hear it on the other side of the door but she tries to stop you as you reach for the door again.
"Oh come on John. You'd be stupid to pass this up." Her voice is low and she's trying to sound sexy. They hear shuffling inside. "You need to leave me alone. I... I love Y/N. You and Layla can believe it or not but I do and I'm done with whatever this is. Back off before I make you."
You shove the door open. "That's enough!" You yell.
Soap and Sarah jump. "What the fuck is the deal?"
"Did you put them up to this?" He asks. "Of course I didn't put them up to this, I'm not fucking crazy." The swears leaving your lips have everyone in the room startled. "I don't know what the obsession is with you two trying to protect me from Soap when it's none of your business!"
"We just don't want you to give your V card to him because he's a fucking loser Y/N!" Layla calls back.
"I already had sex with him!"
The rooms falls quiet.
Their eyes are wide and even Soap is completely baffled. "I already gave him my virginity. I already slept with him, we've had sex multiple times." You have your arms crossed. Scolding them like a mother scolds her kids. "Seriously? Why didn't you lead with that?" Sarah hisses. "Because you both have been acting crazy."
"You.. you love her? You had sex with her and you still like her..?" Layla and Sarah turn to Soap. He looks away. "Yeah. I do. Maybe if you both had given it a chance you would've seen it." He sighs. "I just threw myself at him and he didn't take the bait. I think that's enough for me." Sarah shrugs her shoulders.
"Give us some space please." You sigh.
"Okay.. We owe you a huge apology Y/N. We had no idea." Layla mumbles. "It's fine, we'll talk later." You sigh. They both leave, the moment the door is closed you're locking it behind them. "Those two, my god." You laugh. He starts laughing too. "Yeah, a bit protective." He chuckles. "I'm sorry about that." You roll your eyes.
"It's alright. They're just looking out for you. Hitting on me though, that's a bit crazy."
"Very crazy."
The both of you start laughing, unable to contain it.
"Cat's out of the bag now I guess."
"Yeah, yeah I guess it is." You look up at him. He's beginning to close the distance between the both of you. "You ready to make this official yet or what?" He smirks. "I don't think that that's the way to properly ask a girl out MacTavish."
"I also don't think it was very respectable of you to let me hit it before at least becoming my girlfriend either, Y/L/N." He raises a brow. "Fuck you." You roll your eyes. Playful smile on your lips. "I'll never get used to you cursing like that. It's kind of sexy actually." He leans in, lips right by yours. "Shut up and ask the question Johnny."
"Fine." He laughs.
"Y/N. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially."
"Yes." You laugh. "Thank god." He mumbles, wrapping his arms under your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist. He pushes you into the wall behind you, you can feel that he's already hard as he presses into you.
"Been waiting weeks to finally hear that lass."
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jintaka-hane · 3 days ago
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Just a few days ago, I discovered a fic that was so beautiful and sad it made me feel so many things at once. When I finished it, I was left thinking about it in a loop (I still do, even today), and I decided to leave a comment for the writer explaining how happy reading their story had made me. The fic was posted in 2017, and I thought... am I silly for thinking this person is going to respond to me? And a few days later... they wrote to me, amazed, thanking me endlessly for my comment.
Please, comment. This is a hobby that isn’t like sports where we get applauded, it’s a very solitary hobby, and even though we always say we write for ourselves, who are we kidding? We all need a little love. We need to know there’s someone on the other side. You don’t know how important this support is for writers.
Comment.
Even if the fic was written years ago.
Even if the fic already has a thousand comments and you think that person doesn’t need any more support.
Comment <3
i wish ao3 allowed people to give kudos per each chapter. These 100k word NOVELS need more love than 200 tiny digital hearts ☹️
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sematarygirls · 23 hours ago
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🐞 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe sees anxious!reader's tramp stamp for the first time
cw: suggestive but mostly fluff, angst if you squint
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       It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. You certainly weren't ashamed of the permanent ink artwork embedded into your lower back. In fact, you had loved it ever since you got it done.
The problem was that you were self-conscious about your body. You weren't big enough to be considered plus sized, but you weren't small enough to be considered ideal either. You were in a weird middle zone that left you feeling utterly undesirable and completely at war with your body, which led you to wearing a lot of high-rise pants and other articles of clothing that obscured your body—your lower back included.
You also met Rafe in the winter. How he, the hottest guy in Kildare and maybe even the entire world, found you of all people attractive aside, the weather meant that you were never in bikinis or cropped shirts and shorts around him.
Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.
Plus, you sort of forgot it was there. After it healed and there was no longer pain or that persistent, unfathomably uncomfortable itch to remind you that you had gotten your skin altered forever, it was out of sight, out of mind.
Those things combined with the fact that you were too scared to have sex with him meant that you had never been in a position where he had been able to catch a glimpse of it, leaving your boyfriend completely in the dark to your tattoo.
Until you finally decided to stop being a nervous wreck and spend the night at his house. It was going to be completely innocent, nothing more than some cuddling and a slightly awkward moment of realization the morning after as you felt morning wood pressing against you for the first time. You were inexperienced, to say the very least.
He offered you some sweatpants with a drawstring and a shirt for you to wear, and since you had dreamed of this since you were 13, you had obliged, trying not to seem to excited at the thought of being in his clothes, enveloped by his scent. It just seemed like something oddly intimate and domestic, something you longed for.
You pulled your pants off and pulled his sweatpants on, tying the drawstring, but the pants still hung a little loose on your hips. You turned your back to him, lifting your shirt off, and just as you started to slip his shirt on, you heard his voice, making you freeze.
"What the fuck is that?" He asked, his obscenity mixed with shock making the sentence come out much harsher and more jarring than he had intended. He wasn't as angry as his tone intended. In fact, he was really fucking turned on and incredibly curious. His sweet, shy little girlfriend was hiding a tattoo in the sexiest spot he could imagine.
"What?" You asked, quickly pulling his shirt down and turning to him, your eyes wide with worry. Your mind, adept at overthinking every micro expression and shift in tone, immediately started running with possibilities, most prominently, that he had seen something about your body that he didn't like.
"The tattoo," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You didn't tell me you had a fuckin' tramp stamp."
"Oh," you replied softly, your blood rushing to your cheeks. Your mind immediately worried that he didn't like it, that maybe it would be a deal breaker or he'd think you were some kind of slut. "I-uh- I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, stumbling over your words as your mouth struggled to catch up to your brain. "I guess I forgot about it," your excuse sounded pathetic even to your own ears as it left your lips, but you didn't have anything else to say, nothing that wasn't a string of apologies and pleas that he wouldn't leave you, anyway.
"You forgot you had a tattoo on your lower back?" He raised an eyebrow, sitting up on his bed and crossing his arms, his biceps bulging slightly. He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but it was practically in his DNA. He was working on trying to be gentler with you, realizing when you needed him to be softer and when you liked him acting like sort of a dick, but working on were the operative words in that phrase. He wasn't quite there yet.
"It's just..." You struggled to find the words to explain. Rafe didn't have tattoos. He didn't know how easy it was to just forget that they were there. After a certain point, it just becomes a part of you that you're used to. You don't really think about it or perceive it as much as other people do. "I don't really see it because of where it is, so I- um- well, it's easy to forget that it's there... I guess?" You sounded completely unsure of yourself, to the point that you worried he might think you were lying, whether that was a valid concern or just your anxious brain trying to fuck with you, you weren't sure.
He leaned forward, saying nothing for a moment as his piercing blue eyes regarded you with a scrutinizing stare that made you feel like he could see right through you. You fiddled with the hem off his shirt, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously as your gaze darted around the room—you always overthought how much eye contact was the correct amount. "Turn around," he ordered after a moment, his voice low and gruff. "Let me see. Properly this time."
"What?" You asked, your eyes snapping to his and widening a fraction as you were caught off guard by his demand. You weren't entirely sure what you expected to be honest, maybe to be broken up with, or just chewed out for keeping a secret or getting such a tattoo in the first place, but for some reason, it hadn't occurred to you that he would want to look at it, really look at it.
"Turn around," he said again, his tone leaving no room for argument this time. He didn't like repeating himself, and he especially didn't like feeling like he was missing out on a piece of you, this girl that had taken him completely by surprise and made him forget that anyone else existed. "Now."
Your brain seemed to short circuit, and you stood there for a minute, blinking at him with your lips parted as if you were going to object, but instead, you simply turned around, holding your breath as you entered your natural state of constant worrying.
Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes squeezing shut in fear and anticipation as he gently tugged the shirt up, revealing your back. he tugged the sweatpants down ever so slightly to see the bottom of the tattoo, and you waited for what seemed like forever before finally feeling his warm fingers run along the healed ink.
The image depicted on your skin, like art on a canvass, was two swans, kissing to create a heart with their faces. One of them was lightly shaded, meant to depict a white swan, and the other was darkly shaded, meant to depict a black swan. It didn't have an explicit meaning to you. You just thought it was pretty and really liked swans, the fact that they mated for life speaking to your hopeless romantic heart.
His fingertips traced the line work, a gesture that was sensual and seemed to leave fire in its wake. He stared at it for a long while, such a beautiful and permanent piece of art on his girl in such an indirectly intimate area making something within stir.
"You hate it don't you?" You breathed out, the words falling from your lips in a concerned hurry faster than you could stop it. The silence was suffocating, not knowing what would come after making your skin crawl with anxiety.
"Face me," was all he said. He wanted to look you in the eyes when he said what he had to say, wanted to make sure you really heard him and understood that he meant what he said.
You turned back around to face him, looking down at him as he placed his hands firmly on your hips, pulling you forward to stand between his legs. Your brows were knitted in worry, looking down at him like you were going to burst into tears if he'd started laying into you. You really liked Rafe—it was too soon to say love but... you did—and that mixed with your people-pleaser tendencies made your stomach turn at the thought of upsetting him.
Realistically, you had no reason to be so nervous about his reaction. It was your body, you could do whatever you wanted to it, and you had gotten it before you two even got together, but your brain didn't really care about what was realistic; it only cared about worst case scenario and disappointing people.
"Baby, you are absolutely gorgeous, alright?" He said sternly, already aware that you were preparing yourself for the worst and probably working yourself up about it. "And, fuck, I mean this tattoo... it only makes you more sexy to me. You're fuckin' perfect."
Your cheeks heated up again, not with fear or embarrassment this time but at his compliment. You also visibly relaxed as the clarification that he wasn't mad soothed your nerves a tad. You let out a surprised giggle as he tugged you down onto his lap.
"You got any more sexy little tattoos hidden under these clothes?" He asked flirtatiously, flashing that panty-dropping smirk that made him look ten times more handsome, especially when he was gripping your thigh with one hand and holding you securely against him by your waist with his other.
"No," you smiled, tentatively wrapping your arms around his neck, not knowing if it was as attractive as it seemed in books. "Just that one. Sorry to disappoint," you continued, your voice soft as you bit your lip shyly—one of your many anxious habits.
"Mm," he hummed, dipping his head into the curve where your neck met your shoulder. "Shame," he murmured, placing soft kisses against your skin as you giggled. The tension in the room had completely dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted and flirty atmosphere.
Rafe knew you weren't ready to go further than just kissing, and he was going to wait for as long as you needed him to. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get horny at the idea of pounding into you from behind, your tattoo completely exposed for him to gawk at, but he knew baby steps were in order. He needed to get you okay with sex before he molded you into his little personal porn star.
                         ୭ৎ
author's notes .ᐟ   described my own tattoo as the one reader has, but if you have your own or want to imagine it as something else, feel free to do so! i just thought i should describe the tattoo for the story's sake <3
also, i know this is a little different from the giggly and jokey couple we saw in my other anxious!reader x boyfriend!rafe fic, and that is because this is toward the beginning of their relationship. reader is still trying to learn to be more comfortable with rafe enough to be herself and realize that he loves her, even it she doesn't like herself, and rafe has never done the relationship thing, especially not with a girl like reader, so he's still learning to express his emotions and be soft and warm with her the way he wants to and know she deserves.
tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @bradshawed / @fallbhind / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 /
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kooggukk · 2 days ago
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𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK
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daddy jungkook (literally)
; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)
+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist
— 1/??
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“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”
Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.
surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.
it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.
you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.
still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.
“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.
“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.
“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.
“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”
“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.
“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.
“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”
“quit.”
“no.”
“quit.”
“no.”
“quit.”
“okay.”
she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.
“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”
you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”
┈ ⪩⪨   ┈
“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.
panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”
“my resignation notice, sir.”
“your what?”
he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.
he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.
‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’
“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.
you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”
“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.
‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’
“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”
“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”
“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.
the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.
during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.
officially, this was your last week working at the school.
when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.
‘looking for a nanny’
you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.
“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.
“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.
“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”
“i stopped. for three hours.”
you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.
“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.
“told ya’..”
“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.
“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.
“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.
“you got the experience.”
“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“
“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”
“that’s different.” you groaned.
“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”
you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.
“true.”
“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.
“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”
“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.
“sure.”
you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.
the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.
you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.
a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.
his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.
“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.
“yeah, i am.”
“great, come in.”
he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.
the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.
“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.
“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.
you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.
“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.
“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.
“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.
“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.
you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”
“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”
you paused, hesitant what else to say.
“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”
“yes, first and second grade.”
after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.
“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.
“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.
“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.
“hi.”
“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.
“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.
“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”
the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.
“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.
“does that mean, i got the job?”
“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.
“monday then.”
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