#I think all these people could work well with the right writing

[stardust-thief]

look after you

an: this my first x reader fic LMAOO, i needed to write smth and this spencer was on my brain :// i am in the middle of a rly long donna fic but i cba this was much easier. also i absolutley have not proof read this sorry

synopsis: you get hurt while hunting down an unsub, after some reluctance (and kind words from papa rossi) you let spencer take care of you, 1.7k words

cw: descriptions of violence, panic attack, spencer swears and can drive (the most un-canon thing abt him) umm italians..., the rest is just fluffy, hurt/comfort, x reader but no y/n

masterlist

The unsub had his gun pointed at you, the cold press of the barrel against flesh. He was ranting and raving about needing to be seen and understood, having spent his childhood in emotional neglect. Teachers and parents failed him at every turn, it’s not his fault that this happened but he can fix it if he just drops the gun. Rossi tried to tell him this over and over, but he only got more angry, pushing the gun in harder and harder. 

If you were to open your eyes, you would’ve seen JJ and Luke there too, guns trained on the unsub. Their eyes glancing between you, the unsub, and the gun. But you didn’t. Not until the bang went off and you could breathe again. 

The flashing lights of the ambulance do nothing to dissuade the pressing headache you feel coming on, the movement of people helps even less. You watch as the EMT’s cart the unsub away on a gurney, sheet covering him. 

“You okay, kid?” Rossi asks from beside you, he had been hovering ever since the ambulance arrived. 

“I’m fine, just need a good night's rest. I’ll be good as new.” You hummed half-heartedly. 

David Rossi always knew when someone was lying to him, part of that talent comes from his job as a profiler, but it’s mostly because of some ancient Italian magic. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that to me. Look, Hotch is on his way with Reid and Emily. They’re gonna be taking some witness statements, but I imagine Boy Wonder will be a little distracted. I want you to let him take care of you, ok? You’ve been through hell tonight kid, let him worry.”

Italians never lie, although you wish they did. Spencer had very obviously caught feelings for you, everyone on the team could see it. Unfortunately, so could you. Spencer Reid was one of the kindest, most genuine people you had ever met, always putting other people's needs before his own. A voice in your head kept telling you that there is nothing you have done to deserve someone like him doting all over you? You had only brought trouble to the people who loved you. Eventually you learned that it was better to just keep everyone at a distance; if you don’t let them in, they can’t get hurt. Which worked well, up until Spencer.

He had such a wormy way of getting into your brain at the worst times; whether it was when you were alone in your kitchen, or at slightly dangerous, very inappropriate times on a case. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and his stupidly cute (and sometimes ill-timed) facts. Some part of you wanted to let him in, in the end the stubborn side always took over. 

Before long, you heard the worried cries of Spencer trying to find you in the chaos. Rossi called his name and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Remember, you deserve to be looked after too.” and left to find Hotch.

“Oh my god, are you okay? We tried to get here as soon as we could, but they managed to take down the unsub right? What happened, did he hurt you? How did you get so close? Talk to me are-” Oh, how he rambles. 

“Spencer, I’m fine. I just need to… rest, you know. He didn’t hurt me that bad, just a sprained wrist, couple bruises. Could’ve been worse.”

He spluttered, “Could’ve- you know, that doesn’t make this any better, I was so worried about you. He had a fucking gun to your head, I was going insane thinking about what could’ve happened. What did the EMT say about your wrist?”

“Just to rest it, and use an ice pack if it starts to swell or hurt.” You couldn’t look him in the eye, he was so worried about you. It made butterflies dance in your belly, but there was a twinge of guilt there too. He was so busy, he worked so hard and then went home to look after his mom. He had too much on his plate, how could you add more to it? “Spence, I’m really sorry about worrying you. I should be fine to leave now, so I’ll just head home and sleep it off. Have a good night.” You pushed yourself off the ambulance, eyes focused downwards, restless fingers fidgeting with the already frayed bandage.

“No- wait what are you talking about? You’re gonna drive yourself home in this condition? I can’t let you do that, even thinking about it makes me feel sick.” He lowered his head to yours and spoke softer this time, “Please let me take you home. I don’t have to stay, I just want to make sure you’re ok, ok?”

Fuck that voice did things to you. Leaning from side to side, you thought about what Rossi had said earlier. Maybe, it was ok to let someone in? It would be cruel to let him suffer more, not knowing if you were ok or somehow got in a car crash with 5 other vehicles on your way home. Just this once, you think.

Looking up into his soft eyes, you give a small nod. His lips immediately turned up into a smile, his hand comes up to cup your head, fingers stroking your cheek. It felt… nice. His thumb was calloused but he still moisturised enough for it to feel smooth, and he smelled like lemongrass and ginger. His hand fell to the small of your back as he guided you to his car. Ever the gentlemen, he opened your door and softly placed his hand over your head as you got in. Manoeuvring himself into the driver's side, he pulled out his phone and typed something, then quickly stuffed it away into a pocket and turned on the engine.

The sky was dark when you woke up. The unsub had a gun to your head at dusk, and Spencer was walking into your apartment when the moon was out. He took off his shoes and the door, and walked into your living room.

“I’ve never been here before,” he mused. “I like it.”

He looked at ease wandering around your apartment, his shoulders had relaxed and he let out soft musings as he perused your photo collections.

“Oh Spencer, not that one, it’s embarrassing!” You tried (with not a lot of effort) to pull him away from the frame.

“No this is cute, was this when you were at University?” He asked, wrapping an arm around you.

Oh my god. “Yeah, um- those were some of my friends at the time. I try and keep in touch but, you know.”

He hummed, pulling you closer into him. Finally content, he looked down at you. “How’s your wrist?”

“It’s ok,” you shrugged, “just a little tender now.”

“Where’s your kitchen, I can get some ice.”

“Spence-” you wanted to tell him no, to go home and look after himself. But his body was so warm, having him so close to you melted your brain, leaving you unable to think of any good reason as to why he should leave. “It’s the first door on the right.”

His grip tightened for a moment before he swiftly navigated you to the sofa, and turned to leave for the kitchen. The cold of the apartment rushed to get you as soon as he unraveled his arms. You hadn’t been alone all day since the unsubs attack, it somehow felt more claustrophobic. His hand on your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. The way he grabbed your arm, contorting it so he could throw you to the ground. The gun, pressed into your forehead. The knowledge that the only thing between you being alive, and you being in a ditch, was a madman's finger on the trigger. Reality faded as each memory pressed further and further into your mind. You weren’t in your apartment anymore, you could feel the cold concrete beneath your hands. The thick air in your lungs, Rossi and the unsub shouting.

A hand on your knee, a soft voice bringing you back. There was no unsub, no gun to your head. You were alive. You were alive and Spencer was in your apartment, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face.

“You with me?” His voice was so soft, you couldn’t recall ever hearing Spencer raise his voice in anger. He was so gentle when he touched you. 

The floodgates burst, choked sobs made their way past your lips. Your shoulder shook as you cried, pressing yourself into Spencer’s arms. “Oh honey,” He murmured, pressing his lips into your head, softly rocking you back and forth as you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. It was too much. You could have died today. Very nearly did. You weren’t ready to die, not yet at least.

As your cries softened into hiccups, you pushed yourself back from Spencer. “I’m sorry, that was so disgusting. It just all- I don’t know.”

 “Hey, you don’t ever have to apologise to me ok? What you went through was really scary, I’d honestly be more shocked if you didn’t cry.” His hand moved to draw soothing shapes along your back as you leaned back into him. “You want to watch something to calm down? I brought you some water and an ice pack for your wrist.”

He would be the death of you. You nod and push yourself back into the sofa, moving your wrist to rest in your lap. Spencer gently places the ice pack across your wrist and grips the tips of your fingers. He leans forward to push your cup of water towards you and grabs the TV remote, then turns and leans back so your side is pressed into his front. Truthfully, Spencer didn’t seem like the type to watch cable TV but he navigated the menu with somewhat ease. 

“Look at what’s on! It’s your favourite isn’t it, you want me to put it on.” He said as he nudged your shoulder.

He remembered your favourite film, of course he would remember it he has an eidetic memory. You hummed a yes as you relaxed your body further into his, finally content. Maybe Rossi was right, having Spencer close really wasn’t so bad after all.

[jsmainblog]

not alone - spencer reid જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩

requests are always open <3

spencer reid x lonely!reader

summary: reader is a university student and hits up bars as a product of feeling isolated/blown off from their friends. but this time they meet a very peculiar person who they spend the night with

a/n: okay don't judge this i'm not the best at writing smut this could be really bad

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), p in the v, not overly graphic but its still there yk

❤️‍🔥smut

Here you were again stumbling into another bar. It now seemed like a weekly occurence, which seemed a little sad. I mean if you told someone you end up in a bar at least once a week they'd think you'd have some serious drinking issues, or you were depressed, or both. These vists to bars where mainly fuelled by your friends, they were either busy studying or with their boyfriends, sometimes even leaving days to go back home when college got a bit much. So as you seated yourself at the bar you had the usual expectation of how this night was going to go, a drink and people watching probably and sulking, yeah definitely sulking.

You see the usuals at the bar. A family man slumped over his drink morosely, groups of girlfriends getting drinks and celebrating, asshole men hitting on women, two co workers drinking and laughing. Watching these people made your heart ache a little. How you so desperately wished for a little human connection right now. Any connection would do you wouldn't care, a friend, a stranger, even idle talk with bartender. You even wouldn't mind a little bit of physical connection. Your eyes scan the bar until the landed on him. This guy who sat alone sipping on a drink thoughtfully, he looked meek almost. You could tell he was the kind of guy who'd get bossed around alot by women, especially if they give him a bit of attention. So with a hesitant push to stand up you make your way over to him.

"Hi. You mind if I sit?" you question. You see his face properly for the first time.He was young, shockingly younger than you thought with big round brown eyes and soft pink lips. Why, he's got to be around your age maybe 24? 25?.

"Uh no, no I don't mind, don't mind at all." he stutters. You can see the flustered look on his face obviously indicative that he dosen't get approached alot.

"So whats your name"

"Spencer Reid. I-uhm whats your's?"

"Y/n. So what college do you go to?" you inquire. Maybe this could be your chance to befriend someone to lean on when your friends unsurprisingly blow you off once again.

"College? No I don't go to college, I uhm work for the BAU full time at the FBI." he states. Well that shocked you a bit. This young, lanky looking guy who looked like he couldn't lift anything heavier than a chair was in the FBI? You have got to be joking.

"Don't you have to have a degree for that? And your like what? 24? 25? Degrees take a long time so I'm not understanding how that lines up. Unless your a genius or something."

"I have an iq of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute" he rambles, but he notices you shoot him a 'get to the point look'. "Yes I am a genius. And to answer your question yes you need a degree, sometimes even a PHD or a B.A."

You look at him baffled, you could've deducted he was smart from his nerd get up but this smart? Wow how were you supposed to keep up?

"Wait so how old are you?" you inquire

"24"

"Oh same" you say which brings a smile to his face. A very sweet handsome smile. Oh my god are you seriously rambling about some genius you met in a bar less then 10 minutes ago?

"So whats you degree in?" You ask

"Well i have multiple degrees. I have 3 PhD's in chemistry, math and engineering and I have two B.A's in psychology and sociology. So I'm assuming you're a uni student whats your degree in? "

"History."

"Oh yeah?" he says intrigued

"Yeah." you echo like a prayer. This Spencer guy was clearly flustering you a tad and massively impressing you.

So it was even more of a shock to the system when you are clumsily unlocking your apartment dorm with his arms wrapped around you from behind sucking on your neck. The two of you still tipsy crash your lips into one anothers as soon as the door closes. You didn't have a lot of time to think but you could tell where this was going. Now Spencer is a attractive genius you met at a bar 2 hours ago, how well is he going to go during sex? The horrifying thought of him being a virgin crosses your mind as well. You wouldn't usually take a chance on a guy like Spencer but you were lonely and now well a little needy. By the time you two are stumbling into your bedroom practically glued to each other you've accepted Spencer may not satisfy you at all. You were kind of okay with that. At least you were with someone and not sulking alone in your room which you usually do at this hour.

You sit back on the beg tugging on his tie signalling for him to come with you.

"Have you had sex before?" you breathe into his lips. He laughs softly. Why was he laughing? Was he nervous? Did he think your ridiculous for asking such a question?

"Yes I have. Why don't think I can satisfy you baby?" The term of endearment flusters you once again. 'I can't believe you are getting so nervous around a guy who probably plays crosswords in his free time' you say mentally scolding yourself.

You spend so much time talking to yourself in your head you don't even notice the lower half of you is naked and he's eating you out like a man starved eliciting little moans from you. Oh so he's good. You were a little annoyed about his awkwardness falsely led you to thinking he would suck. But you were so wrong. You can't even focus on the pleasure he's giving you because your just thinking about him. How.. No, no not perfect he is. Okay well maybe he's a little perfect. No hookup had ever treated you so gently before. His hand's cradled the backs of his thighs tracing little comforting patterns. You had to admit it gave you a little whiplash. Here he was being all gentle and soothing while his head was practically smooshed into the junction of your thighs. Your hand combs through his mousy hair tugging at the strands. No hookup had ever even bothered on foreplay ever, or was so generous. Your general conclusions about hookups is that 80% of the time it was more about them than you. But, it seems Spencer Reid was an anomaly. When you feel the familiar feeling of warmth and tingles wash over you he kisses your legs softly.

"Your being so good for me." he mumbles more to himself then you and you smile at his praise. He positions himself over you ridding himself of his clothes and the rest of yours between kisses.

"Seems like I got you all smiley huh sweetheart" he teases which earns him a nod and he chuckles leaning into give you a gentle kiss. The way he made you feel when he was inside you was like heaven on earth. Not only did he make you feel physically good, but he made you feel good about yourself. Confident, safe, perhaps even a little loved?

"Yeah that's it. Your being so good for me angel. There we go. Feels good huh? Better than you expected?" he murmurs gently. You roll your eyes at his little surge of confidence but nod a little as your hands tangle together.

"You're so beautiful" you blurt starry eyed before whining.

"Thank you, I should be saying that to you, you know but looks like you beat me to it." he laughs. Before you knew it that wave crashed over you again a little harder this time leading to you moaning his name a little louder than you would've liked. His movements sped up, he himself whining and groaning loudly before squeaking. His release leaking into the latex sheath. You were right about one thing he was a little submissive after all. He slowly guides himself out with a soft pop, discarding the now sticky latex and pulling his boxers on. You try to sit up but his hand guides you to gently lay back down.

"Stay there, let me go get something to clean you up angel. It's the least I can do for you." he whispers pressing a kiss to your cheek before wandering off to the bathroom. You lay there and sticky satisfied mess. Without Spencer you felt a little cold and empty, but he made you feel more at ease and safer then you'd ever felt before which astounded you. He comes back with a warm wet cloth wiping down your intimate areas and sweat all while murmuring sweet words of praise and compliments.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" you mumble quietly.

"Yeah if that's okay with you my apartments a little far from here. Just.. if I leave before you wake up I'm sorry but my work's pretty demanding. "

"No thats all good." you say as he pulls you to settle in his arms.

"Thank you" he whispers into your hair.

"For what?"

"For letting me see you like that." you smile at his sickenly sweet sentence. 'Is this guy real?' You think to yourself as you drifted into sleep enveloped by his arms.

The next morning your bed's empty but your not too torn up about it because Spencer warned you the night before. You sigh rubbing your face as you sit up and spot a note on your bedside table.

"Y/n I'm sorry that I had to leave I got called in on a case. I really enjoyed what we did last night and again I want to thank you. In fact, I liked it so much I wanna see you again. Maybe this time with a little more clothes on so we can get to know each other a bit better. Anyways heres my number and I hope we can get coffee or something along those lines its really your choice . But hopefully sometime soon :)" - Spencer

You smile at the note giddily. Maybe this was the start of something great?

[cupcakeslushie]

Happy holidays!

It’s hard to say how Donnie would react in every circumstance, especially an AU, which ya know, is where I kinda live lol. But even with my EW Donnie growing up with different experiences, there are moments where i actively want him to be different, but moments i have to sit and think about how he’s still the same lovable purple guy.

Canon Donnie is such a people pleaser. Donnie’s love language is clearly acts of service/gift giving, creating inventions to make the family’s lives easier…and when they don’t, Donnie tends to either go into a denial mode, refusing any criticism, or fix it mode.

He can’t handle the idea of just dropping a project—not until he has no other choice. When Shelldon literally destroyed the lair and nearly killed them all, Donnie insisted he could improve him. When he saw the billboard for Purple Game 2, he was still 100% invested in getting that game, despite knowing full well how much damage his obsession caused, and that it was a ploy created by the Purple Dragons. When April went to Witch Town, instead of him, he took that as the highest insult to his talents. If Donnie’s got a worm in his brain for something, he’s not going to let anything stop him—sometimes even, to the detriment of his family’s health.

He loves them, obviously, but he can still be very self involved, and it often blinds him to how he’s hurting them. I personally think this comes from having Raph and Leo always there to be his safety net/older siblings. If something goes awry, they’ll take care of it, Donnie is the results guy, not the plan guy. I see a lot of fanon Donnie taking on everything— taking charge in a emergency—and I’m not ragging, I even enjoy seeing that trope of Donnie working himself to death, doing it all, when it’s written very well—but in canon, Donnie relies a lot on Raph and Leo as team leaders for support and guidance. I think if something were to happen to both of them, he’d need some time to panic and pull himself together. He trusts their judgment (only ever pushing back with a few follow up questions) and backs them up. They come up with the plan, and he figures out how to implement it, or just follows along until his intelligence (or sarcasm) is needed. The times we do see Donnie take charge, he has zero patience for it lol (see Mind Meld). He will stand back, if he doesn’t have much to do and snark about what’s going wrong.

If it’s a fight situation, Donnie’s usually not the one to charge in headfirst. In both Shredder fights (and a few others), he allows the others to go in swinging before he takes a go, and then right off the bat, he pulls out some pretty big final moves (whether they worked as final moves, well 😬) so I think Donnie tends to leave the super physical stuff to the other three, unless it’s a one vs one, or if he can see they need help. He IS a great fighter, that’s for damn sure, but I think if he can go last, and make it into a big show, he has more fun with it.

There is the attention seeking, seeing as he’s a middle child. This is where I get into heavy head canon territory…

We can maybe, safely assume from canon, that Splinter gives Donnie the least amount of attention. I do think the Splinter attention goes-> Mikey, Leo (tho most of that attention is negative from being reprimanded lol), Raph, then Donnie. And while Leo tells himself the negative attention he gets from being a little shit is the same as any attention, I think Donnie desperately needs positive attention, and someone to validate all his creations.

I hope any of that made sense. I’m not the best at writing down my thoughts on a character’s motivations and personality lol. I’m mostly going off vibes when I write.

[sir-adamus]

If I’m not mistaken this year will be ten years since Monty’s passing, and people are still under the same delusion that the show was Ruined. People talk about his vision for the show when he was still around for the fall of Beacon. The show arc was ending. They could not return to the ways things were. Even the small short episodes of the beginning of the series showed the characters growing and changing.

People didn’t like rwby back then. All these ppl who are like Wow RT ruined this I can’t believe it. They did not watch or did not watch after volume 3. They are calling for a reboot of a show they didn’t even care about.

Monty’s MESSAGE has always been “the goal is not to live forever, but to make something that does”. I think he would be very proud that his idea that started with color and ketchup maps has gotten international recognition as well as a fan base that has stuck around for a decade and all the new people since it started that watch it and love it.

Rwby is not just the writing. It’s the animation and the voice actors and the entire team who bring it to life. Seeing people talk about how they would fix it is so shit because what they THINK the show should be is NOT what the show is or is meant to be. It’s not a romp through school where they fight monsters every week. The magic and the reincarnation and the generational pain IS the show and it’s reflected in the characters.

It’s with Ruby and Yang and team strq. It’s with Blake and the white fang and how it’s never too late to change. It’s with Weiss and Whitley and Willow and how it’s possible to reconnect with family if you put in the work. It’s with Winter finally choosing herself rather than the mission.

The story is Right There and has been growing and building the entire time. People saying it needs to be Fixed don’t even know what they would be fixing.

Also while he was ALIVE Monty literally said multiple times not to shit on his friends and if you didn’t like the show to leave. Funny how nobody EVER brings that up as part of his vision statement

yyyyyyup

[insomniadreamzz]

Alright, idk if your request are open, but if they are please hear me out

Modern au, maybe in college ? Where sevika is always irritated. She feels undervalued, like she's doing everything for silco (drug dealer) always fixing jinx's mess, but no one sees how important she is

But then she met reader, who's a little older and sooo easy to impress. She's always fawning over how good her work is, or maybe sees her at the gym and is like woaaaw that's so much weight at like, sevika's warm up weight..

She feels sooo good but then she sees reader is like that with everyone and she snaps lmao

Don't know if you'll read (or write) this but thanks !

Xoxo

Something special

Sevika x Fem!Reader College AU

slight Smut ahead

(Sevika has both arms in this AU and is ofc younger in that fic)

It was one of those days where Sevika just hated everything. Seeing all the mess Jinx made and of course she had to fix, of course Jinx could do anything, she was Silco’s adoptive daughter and Silco…well he was a drug dealer Sevika worked for.

Besides having to deal with that, she was still going to college. It wasn’t a secret that most people kept their distance from her, she looked strong and intimidating so no one really dared to come up to her and start a talk. Deep inside Sevika disliked it sometimes, she had to do so much and no one really appreciated her. She was the reason everything went right with Silco‘s work. Even at college she actually did a great job, Sevika was very intelligent but no one really told her, not even the teachers gave her the feeling of being seen as a normal student. They knew she had some dark shit going on and that she could crush someone with her muscles in seconds if they piss her off. Respect was good but that was a little too much even for her.

After class Sevika went to the gym that was part of the college she was going to, of course they had to give the students something to be at their free time so they won’t feel bored and this was just her favorite place. No one could deny the fact that Sevika looked very hot with her tanktop on as she lifted the weights and you couldn’t ignore that sight in front of you as well as you just finished your own exercises, not able to go past her without complimenting her. „Wow! You are pretty strong.“ You said, eyes wide in surprise, it’s the first time someone went to talk to Sevika so she placed them down to be able to talk properly to you. „You think so? That’s just my warmup. I can lift way more than that.“ She mentioned and you felt really impressed. „That’s really cool. I can see you are training a lot. Those muscles suit you very well, keep on the good work.“ You encouraged her before leaving. Sevika couldn’t hide the fact that this made her very happy, finally someone saw her with other eyes, making her smile.

Every now and then you met Sevika at the campus, giving her the feeling that she was someone special. You kept on complimenting her and being fascinated by what she could do, not only with her body and strength but also with her intelligence. So with time you and Sevika happen to be friends. You knew she was sneaking out at night from campus but you didn’t question her what she was doing all night. Good for Sevika because telling you about her job would make you see her with different eyes and she wanted to avoid that.

Finally after all those years of feeling not really seen Sevika got the appreciation she longed for by you. She really started liking you. Whenever you got close to her and talked she felt something she never felt before, such a warm feeling but she liked it.

It was just on that one specific day she saw you complimenting others as well, acting the same as you did with her which made her act different towards you. She got colder to you which made you question what you did wrong. Of course you didn’t notice how special you made her feel and everything got ruined as she noticed that you do that to everyone. In fact this was just your personality, you enjoyed making people feel good about themselves and show them the positive things about themselves and less critic.

You couldn’t accept the way Sevika was acting with you though. Either she tries avoiding you or she answered you with short sentences. You ran into Sevika this evening in the hall of where the students have their rooms, you were about to get into yours while she just left hers. „Sevika wait…can we please talk?“ You stopped her, making her look at you with a serious expression as she crossed her arms. „I don’t have time but you won’t let me go anyways huh? So go on.“ The way she acted so cold made you frown. You suddenly felt a little insecure, sighing before you dared to ask her. „What’s going on, why are you so cold towards me?“

„Why? You really wanna know why?“ She couldn’t take it no more, slamming you against the wall of the hall as her hand rested on it, making sure there was no escape. Your eyes widen in shock, since you were a little smaller than Sevika you suddenly felt intimidated by her. „Because I thought this is something special…I thought you like me but seems like you act like this with everyone so I am not better than others to you.“ She explained with a angry expression and you finally start to realise where her sudden change of acting came from. „But…you are special to me.“ You muttered out, looking up at her with a soft smile as dou tried to calm her down. „I know I am kind to everyone like that but…I didn’t get as close to them as I got to you right?“ You stopped, swallowing hard, hoping you won’t make her more mad at you. „Listen…I am very bad at this. I know how to spread kindness yeah but I suck at talking about my own feelings. I-…I really do like you Sevika.“ You managed to say, her gaze softening a little as she listened to you.

She noticed the little blush on your cheeks, making her realise what you meant with ‚liking‘ her. Her hand grabbed your chin, making you look directly into her eyes, you felt like your heart would explode anytime. „Eyes only on me…understood? I can’t stand you complimenting others…“ She said with a low voice before closing the gap between you two, kissing you deeply. You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck to pull her closer into a deep kiss.

The situation escalated a little bit when she moved her tongue inside your mouth, dominating the kiss before you both had to pull back to breathe. „You know what…fuck it I am not going anywhere tonight.“ She said before grabbing your hand and leading you to her room. As soon as the door closed you kept on kissing each other before landing on her bed, of course Sevika being on top.

„Now…you gonna pay for making me feel less special than I thought I was…“ She whispered close to your ear and soon her hands roamed around your body, slipping under your shirt to touch your soft skin before taking it off. Once your upper body got exposed to her, she made sure to make you feel good, leaving hickeys all along your neck and chest, making you moan softly in return.

Your eyes lighting up once she exposed herself to you too. Her perfectly trained body making you feel all senses of sanity, your hands immediately moving forward to touch her as well and she smirked, knowing you loved the sight in front of you.

You and Sevika spend the rest of the night being a moaning mess as you rocked your bodies against each other and eating each other out like both of you were starving. Oh you made sure she will feel special again and you won’t ever stop showing her more than necessary. Showing her love, appreciation and everything she longed for and so did she for you.

[uncleasriel]

THANK YOU. This helped articulate a lot of my misgivings with this multimedia franchise that have swirled in my head for a long while.

So many of my misgivings this truly does boil down to "overabundant, easy consumerism" and "paucity of depth in the immediate source material". I'm not beyond consumerism - I have a wall of out-of-print books and DVDs for all sorts of weird stuff - but the need to spend money on every damn thing that bears the sigil of That Thing I Love is in complete opposition to my own sense of aesthetics.

I still have a slight mistrust of the Star Wars bandwagon, for similar reasons: I thought those movies were also the coolest shit when I was 8, but don't feel the pressing need to have my entire kitchen suite remodeled to look like the Death Star. But while I would look askance at someone who had that kind of zeal for Star Wars, I could at least have some interesting discussions with them their thoughts on the differing canons, the case for whether Yazhun Vhong were compelling villains, or why The Revenge of the Sith novelization was more compelling than its source material gave it a right to be.

With Harry Potter, all we get are a series of books and films that work well as self-contained adventures, but the scope of which feels pretty local, and is best suited for individual discussions about "that development with Character A sure was something,huh?" It would be like folks discussing Star Wars going "wow, that twist about Luke's father was one helluva doozy!" And Star Wars is a much bigger setting than that. Does Harry Potter have any thing of that scope?

I I think the reason I'm writing so much about a franchise I'm so indifferent to is because it's so utterly pervasive in the modern media landscape, and on an animal level, I can't quite grasp why. The books were fine! The movies were good, even! But I don't see why some people have to make their entire personalities and personal brand. I don't see why they need to inculcate their children into that brand, especially when said brand was designed to age with the demographic at the time when they were published, and tonally transformed as they aimed at a different reading and maturity level.

I try not to get judgemental about what people like. I'm wholly indifferent to My Little Pony, but when people I know gush about how they loved the show in its heyday, I just smile in delighted befuddlement and let them carry on. Someone in 2025 still using the label of "brony" is gonna raise a question or two, but I don't feel any the need to write several essays about it - I'll just give a simple "glad you like it" before moving on. I feel don't like it when people turn a something someone likes into a target of derision. Sure, there are some parts of the fanbase that get cringeworthy, and some parts of it are even vile, but the same can be said of any similarly sized IP, be it Star Wars, Disney Animated Series, and yes, even Harry Potter. The mystery about why I feel a little defensive over someone shitting all over a brony but a bit of glee over attack Harry Potter is one that I had to crack, so I thank you @galileosballs for helping me tease this out. It's good to get at the root of one's more vicious impulses, and this certainly helped tease out a lot of my reasoning.

for the record even if we lived in a universe where jk rowling wasn't a fundamentally evil person, and every dollar spent on harry potter merchandise wasn't being funneled directly into anti-trans causes, I would still think grown ass adults who are unable to help themselves from purchasing every possible thing from a mediocre childrens book franchise are extremely pathetic people

[tactical-jellyfish]

Watcher 1-1

Part Seven <3

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (no, I won't tell you who yet >:), but I will cover the symptoms as well as possible) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Warnings for this specific chapter: (technically) main character death, written descriptions of injury, gore and blood talk. Included reference and experience with post-surgery symptoms of various degrees of seriousness. One character affectionately refers to another character as "slutbag"

Keegan is a good man.

You learn this quickly, as you get into moderate, common spats with the United States healthcare system.

In the days that narrowly follow the surgery, when you're more often unconscious than awake, you often wake with the nurse (technically certified, but you really have no idea if he actually works here) at your bedside who's just... doing whatever in the corner.

You're lucky you haven't been snippy enough to shove him away from you, just yet.

In your own defense, your dignity has been directly removed by most of this terrible shit.

You can't even get up to use the bathroom, anymore. It's a bedpan.

And apparently, you're still lucky. Because you're going to get your drainage tube out of the lovely leg wound in a few days.

You are, for all intents and purposes, about to kill someone or yourself. But Keegan is still often there, answering your questions or giving you just a bit of humor to hold onto as you go increasingly stir-crazy from waiting for Laswell to finally come and give you the rundown of the tatters that must remain of your career.

It'd only be another week. You weren't sure you could last that long.

As if an angel somewhere has answered this thought, the door opens again.

"Hey, slutbag. I finally found you some enrichment."

Keegan's voice is playful, and he wears a shit-eating grin as he tosses a small bag to your bed, hitting you almost-square in the chest.

"Mm. Poor aim, Mr. Russ."

You may be tired, in pain, and you may be in a frankly terrible mood, but that doesn't mean you're not funny. Your name isn't Price.

Still, you open the little bag, and there's a box inside. You open that too, as Keegan plops himself in the chair that hurts his back because he can't be assed to bring in something better.

It's... a lock, casted out of clear plastic, with a small set of tools to pick it. Also a set of keys, which you already know you'll refuse to use for pride's sake.

Two watchful, fond blue eyes are scanning your motions and you can feel him smile, without even looking.

"I could have given you a manual, but I think you'd like it better to do it all yourself. Was I right?"

The tool's handle is smooth as you hold the lock steady, fighting to not immediately fiddle with the thing in front of Keegan. He would be too damned smug about it.

"...Thank you, Russ."

He did deserve that thanks, as far as you thought. You were pathetic right now, useless and bed-bound and panicky. And still, Keegan was willing to look upon you, he still willingly chooses to see you.

This thank you encompasses all of those things. You know you've been less than fun. Less than useful. And you know Keegan deserves to know that he's been good to you. Better than you've ever deserved.

He's quiet, for a time, but then you hear a warm chuckle as he reaches forward to give you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Don't say that like you owe me anything, kid," You really should interrupt him, tell him that, if you're not older than him, you definitely outrank him, but you don't. "You're much better than working in a shit-hole like this."

Your eyes find his, and you can see him smile as he lowers his mask. You're noticed that he only seems to do this in the room, with you. And only when you're both alone.

"...I know some people who could change that."

"Really?"

"I'm missing my leg, I still have my connections, Keegan."

His smile is worth the scolding you know Lawell will give you for trying to promise to pull him into the service.

You don't care. He's medically smart enough, and pliable enough to train into shape.

Maybe, if you can't serve anymore, you can bring someone who was more brilliant that you ever were. Maybe, your debt is still something you can repay.

His smile isn't wide, but it's happy. Something in your chest squeezes too hard, but he's kind enough to ignore how your heart monitor beeps faster. You know he notices, because his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"D'you want me to give you some hints to pick that lock faster?"

For once, you see that offer for help, and it doesn't strike you as a direct insult to you. You can see, right there before you, someone who wants to get close.

And it's so very stupid to trust someone. But something tells you that you will never be too slow for Keegan.

He seems fine with waiting for you to catch up.

Maybe that's why you nod at that question.

Maybe that's why he sits on the side of your bed, and starts to explain the basics, gently leading your hands into proper position as he starts to gently wriggle the tool agains the pins.

You would have never allowed this, otherwise, but it feels surprisingly good to have him there. Not because he thinks you're weak. Not because he thinks you'd be better if he taught you this.

Keegan is teaching you this because he thinks it's something you want to learn.

The tool turns before you're ready, and the lock pops open under your hands. Keegan's hands too.

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

[sungjinhos]

TRACK N03. AFTER LAST NIGHT - LEE CHAN

✷ There are some things that change with the light. The sea. Your apartment. Lee Chan.

✷ genre: angsty with a happy ending

✷ wordcount: 5187

✷author's note: hello, i had the urge to just. finish a story. to write THE END in a document. to feel the dopamine kick in. so i wrote this! it is great? who knows! you should know you are the author one must think - well, a secret between us: i didn't read this, i am posting without checking it, and without a beta read [because we die like men][in a war with typhoid i guess] anyways - the island by the way is a real island - it is called Fernando de Noronha and there is indeed a dog's bay and a very serious problem with red lionfish you can google it. i know nothing about this field so i just used googled and went with it, anyways enjoy. i am sorry for the lack of effort in the pics i am tired bye

✷ This work is a part of "The Loviest Time Universe" - A collection of stories inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen's album

✷ Smut under the read more, please if you are under 18 do not talk to me, thanks! ✷

After last night Things look different in the pale moonlight

There are some things that change according to the light.

The sea – that during the day is warm, that welcomes every adventure you have with your friends. You could always escape to the sea; you could always plant your feet on the sand and watch the waves wash over the shore.  

But with the sunset that haven always felt different. It seemed like with the absence of light a new quality emerged with the new waters – maybe it was the lack of people screaming and enjoying the day, maybe it was the soft and colder wind, you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Your small one room apartment near the beach, that cosplays as a small oven during the days and a small Siberia during the night. Every hour of the day the lights entering through the windows transformed the shadows around it.

And Lee Chan.

He was the one thing that changed the most during sunrise and sunset.

The way the light illuminated his face through the messy strands of hair during the wee hours of sunrise, the way that his smile grew bigger around noon, the way his face got a boyish glow when the sun was setting, and his eyes were growing sharp and smaller. The way that he looked like a completely different person under the moon light one week ago. And it ruined your life.

“I thought you would be on the beach right now,” Seungkwan – your best and only friend – said while putting the açai bowl in front of you.

“I told Seungcheol that I had enteritis, you know how emphatic he gets when the subject is almost dying in your own bathroom.”

“He doesn’t look like it, but he is your boss,” he says finally uncrossing his arms and sitting in the table with you, there is not a single soul in the small store he runs, “you know you guys are going to the island next week to deal with all those invasive species.”

“How do you know about that?” You ask with your mouth full – the açai cold against your palate and making your brain freeze.

“Lee Chan,” Seungkwan sighs, “he was pestering me in the wee hours of the day, which made me threaten Seungcheol about paying me more because you guys are insufferable really, but that’s not the point, the point is-”

“There is no point in this whole story,” you say picking up the bowl and getting another mouthful, maybe if you get yourself a brain freeze and die maybe you can escape the subject looming over your head the last weeks.

“Argh,” Seungkwan screams, “you will have to face Lee Chan at certain point you guys are doing the same project for four years – the project you moved to this hellhole for, the project that will grant you a silly creatures of the sea PhD.“

“I can always change projects,” you spite.

“No, you can’t,” Seungkwan says so matter-of-factly that makes you angry, “you spent forty-five minutes telling me how it was your dream since you were five and how you will have to pay back everything you received so far.”

“I can always kill Lee Chan,” it sounds like the last resource but- “and you can always help me.”

“That would make me the happiest man on earth and you know that, but I cannot kill my own family, and killing your crush is just-“ Seungkwan ponders, “depressing, It is just make a depressing headline.” He adjusts on the seat, changes his tone of voice to a news anchor’s impersonation; “Young woman kills romance interest after one drunk fuck. Depressing”

“Well,” you finally let your spoon go, “he did it first, so why I cannot avoid him?”

“Because you are not fifteen, and because you are brighter than Lee Chan that dumb fucker,” and it is true but you need to bite back your own tongue and hold back your own leg to not kick Seungkwan under the table and say that Lee Chan is not a dumber fucker even though every action the last past week has been saying the exact opposite. Maybe Seungkwan is right.

“And like,” your friend continues, “there is so much you can shit, is it day two right? I don’t think someone can survive three days of shitting for twenty four hours nonstop.”

“For God’s sake Seungkwan, I am eating.”

“And,” he starts when finally someone enters the store making the bell on the top of the door ring, “because I cannot for the love of god listen another forty five minutes of Lee Chan ranting about you, he is worried.” He finally gets up, knocking on the table like he wants to say something more, but he just turns around and get his costume service smile on and ask what the girl with white blond hair wants – bleaching your hair and going on a beach? Beginner’s mistake.

Seungkwan’s voice keeps ringing on your head.

Maybe he was right, maybe killing Chan was too much only because you two hookup once and he immediately acted like nothing happened in the following days and then you couldn’t keep up with the façade that everything was fine and pretended to be sick to not see his face for 48h in hope that that would give you peace of mind.

Maybe you could just lie again and tell Seungcheol that your period just arrived and going to the beach and entering the water would be a big no no – there are sharks out there, we are working with sharks, you know how they can smell blood and then a drop of blood and we are experiencing Jaws in real life.

Seungcheol would get pink in his cheeks due to being extremely embarrassed and would let you go if you made another three people witness the scene.

There is no way he would remember that for the past three months you had not experienced this problem. Soonyoung wouldn’t either, neither would Wonwoo. Perfect plan.

Maybe you could avoid Lee Chan like the plague for the rest of your life.

Maybe Lee Chan was a dumb fucker.

Maybe you would ruin your life just because you fell in love with said fucker.

Maybe you should just pack your bags and never see him again.

In the moment I was hypnotized You can go ahead and open your eyes

You avoid Lee Chan for exactly nineteen hours and eight minutes when he finally bangs on your door. And for a split second you think it was better when he was the one doing the avoiding.

“Are you sure you are good to go?” He asks in the cramped stairs of your very old building and suddenly you are too self-aware.

Are you fucking ugly?

Are you looking unwell? (Maybe that is just a consequence of his presence, yet you shouldn’t kick a dead dog).

Maybe Seungkwan is right, Lee Chan is a dumb fucker and therefore, you should just get over this dumb crush and treat that one fuck like getting out the system kind of thing.

“I am great,” is the only monosyllabically answer you can come up with.

Maybe it is the light, soft entering through the stylized brick wall – those small flowers made from clay and concrete that embellishes the corridor. Or maybe it is how the corners of his mouth don’t curve up. But something in Chan looks different – for the first time he looks old, or his own age without the boyish gleam that you love, serious like he only gets when he is analyzing the materials that your groups collected.

“Are you really?” He asks again when he finally reaches the stairs leaving you three steps higher than him, “are we good?”

Maybe that was the problem with your and Chan – maybe you were just in different levels of the same stair, that eventually leads to the same place.

No, you want to say, we are definitely not good.

We are so not good that I thought about blocking your phone when you didn’t send me the last tiktok aberration you find when we were supposed to be sleeping to get up before five o’clock.

We are not good because I have been two days inside my apartment, and you didn’t updated me if Wonwoo is still suffering on the boat and if Soonyoung forgot everything like he does every damn trip.

We are so not good because I want to kiss your stupid mouth.

“Yep,” you hiccup, “talked to Cheol about it, I think it was something that I ate, you know how it is, I should not buy street food at night on the beach.”

“Okay, we are good then great,” his hand patting his flimsy shorts, “that’s good.”

“Chan,” you say almost inaudible - your throat and heart constrict at the same time making your voice crumble.

“That’s good, that’s great,” he repeats, “I am glad you are okay.”

“Chan-“

“By the way we need to check if we have the plankton nets on the boat, Soonyoung forgot it yesterday which caused like an one hour delay that caused Wonwoo to freak out which made Seungcheol stressed, you know how it is, like domino effect.”

Yeah, I see you

And I think it's gonna change my life

“Are you good?” Wonwoo asks while he fixes his glasses under his cap.

“I am great,” you answer robotic. You start to think that after 28 are you good question you start to feel not good at all.

“I told you guys,” Seungcheol sighs, “you shouldn’t eat food made in the sand of the beach, those are a safety hazard, just cross the street and eat something Seungkwan put it together please. Next week we need to go to the island, the situation with the red lionfish is getting out of hand and I can’t have any of you dying on this boat or on the island.”

“And if the person dying is Soonyoung after he forgot the sediment corers?”

“That,” Seungcheol breathes, “that wouldn’t be a natural death that would be a crime, and I would be the perpetrator, so we are talking about different stuff.”

“Can you guys stop? I used the checklist today, okay? Everything is on the boat.” Soonyoung screams.

“Even the folsom plankton samplae splitters?” Wonwoo asks sitting by your side and cleaning his glasses with the bottom of his shirt.

“That was Chan’s responsibility, you said I shouldn’t handle that,” Soonyoung screams again from the other side of the boat.

“Exactly my point,” Wonwoo whisper.

“Can you guys stop fighting already,” Chan sits on your side making the small bench even smaller, you are pretty sure it is not a three-seat.

The small spaces make you claustrophobic.

The sun is up now, making Chan’s hair appear to be a lighter shade of brown. The ray of light makes his nose look more pronounced by casting a shadow on his cheeks.

Your heart thumps against your ribcage. Your shoulders are flushed together, your elbows touched, there is no space between his legs and yours. It is the first time since that night that you are touching Chan like this. The heat of his body is the same. His smell like the sea – like always, the salt and sand splashed across his body, and soap.

And in the wee hours of the day unfortunately the sea is your safe haven.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo sighs as soon as the boat starts to move, “I am getting sick.”

“Did you take your meds?”

“Soonyoung,” Wonwoo screaming while going inside the boat.

You slide across the small bench finally breathing when your body disconnects from Chan’s.

“I don’t even know why he choose to be a marine biologist if he feels like dying every time we get on a boat,” Chan’s says like he never once in his life did something unreasonable.

He stretches out his arms, like he always does, like his body needs more space when it is tired. You can feel your bodies connect again, his arm against your nape, his hands brushing against your jaw.

“People make stupid decisions, Lee Chan,” you say before you can think about it – like there is no filter between every damn thought and your mouth.

You don’t look, you can’t dare to.

You only feel Chan’s eyes on you while you stare ahead without moving because the mere thought of lifting a finger or breathing after saying what you just did makes you shiver in fear. Everything feels so delicate right now, like a gust of widow could break the sandcastle you built.

“Hey you guys, can your help with the nets?” Seungcheol screams from the back of the boat.

“Sure thing,” you say getting up and leaving Chan on the small bench.

Not afraid of getting close this time You can go ahead and open your eyes

There is a motto – you don’t remember when you saw it – but it rings true know.

There is nothing so bad that can’t get worse.

It sums up your and Chan situation.

It reaches a point where you do not know if you are avoiding him, or he is avoiding you. Or you are both avoiding each other and doing a great job at it. Every time you are dealing with the Plankton with Seungcheol he works with Wonwoo dealing with the sediments or water samplers.

When you are finally on Seungkwan’s you take turns going to the bathroom, so you don’t sit together on the table – which only gets you a look from Seungkwan. When Seungcheol asks if someone can take one for the team and make sure Soonyoung gets everything the next morning you say you can do it – which breaks the ritual of Chan knocking on your door and walking down the street with you till the harbor.

When Fridays arrive, he doesn’t ask what movies you are watching that night. He doesn’t send you another Tiktok video or how his older bothers – Seokmin and Jihoon – has been pestering him about visiting him for the first time in the city. He thinks Jihoon doesn’t even want to travel, but Seokmin said he would always visit his younger brother. Chan joked at the time that his brother was talking like Lee Chan was in a prison waiting for a weekly visit, to which Seokmin answered worse, you are knee deeps on the Academia pyramid scheme and the prison is closer.

When the day to go to the island Soonyoung was the one that pointed out that you two were being weird – sleep was your excuse while Chan swore, he was not weird, everything was normal.

And maybe it was. Maybe you were the only one that was suffering inside – the only one who heart was shirking, that was extremely miserable because you got a taste of Chan and never again you would have him. All the people of the world were right, maybe never having it is easier than getting robbed of it.

Maybe Chan’s kiss changed your palate and now everything nothing would taste the same.

You insisted that you could deal with all the red lionfish killing in the Dog’s Bay, Chan swore he could be responsible for Saint Antony’s beach. Seungcheol made you two promise you wouldn’t leave your post to talk to one another because he could not leave this island with one single red lionfish in the sea endearing a whole ecosystem.

You promised. Chan did too.

When the sun reaches the highest point in the sky you think the promise was somewhat futile. Now with the sun set and the stars dancing on the black sky you think that never again you would go against Seungcheol to steal a few minutes with Chan.

“Can we talk?”

Chan’s voice makes you jump out of your skin.

The moonlight is soft against the waves, the wind makes the palm trees dance, every shadow swaying languid. Everything screams peace and quiet until you hear Lee Chan’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” You finally look at him – his hand inside his pockets. There is redness in his cheeks, like his skin is safe keeping the rays of the day.

It makes you sad. The flushed cheeks a proof that you didn’t call him to reapply sunscreen during the whole day after walking around the island searching and cataloguing red lionfish, the fatal proof that Chan is indeed a dumb fucker like Seungkwan said so.

“What are you doing here?” He says finally sitting on the sand by your side, “I knocked on your bedroom’s door and you didn’t answer so it was or the beach or waking up Seungcheol to say you died and I needed your room’s key.”

“Hmm,” is the only noise you can make, and you pray it dignifies as an answer to Chan.

“Are we really doing this?” Chan asks, his feet going under the sand, “it has been weeks now, since-“ he halts.

Since that night, he wants to say but he doesn’t even have the courage to say it.

It must be the sand, the salt or the fact that you have been awaken for more than twenty hours now but your eyes hurt. Your eyeballs tingle, making you blink to the point that the moon gets unfocused.

“We are not like this, I hate that we are being like this,” his voice is softer now, “I know you think it was a mistake so I don’t have any hope so-“

Another gust of wind hits your face, and you feel your heart get a size smaller.

“A mistake?” You say in a humorless laugh.

Chan winces. There is no boyish glow when you look at him, he looks tired, and his soft shirt is wrinkled, and the corners of his mouth are not turning upwards.

It makes you miserable. It makes you nauseated that you are the reason why Chan looks so out of his body.

“Yes?” It sounds like a question that you don’t quite know if it is a real one, “I heard you talk with Wonwoo on the boat the next morning how everything was a mistake. I-“ Chan breathes again, his face turning sour, “It sucked to hear I guess but I got the message,” he says passing his hands through his hair, his head limp between his shoulders. “I am not an asshole, okay? I can deal with rejection, so you don’t need to feel bad or avoid me, I can deal with it we can go back to normal behavior, even Wonwoo asked what was going on.”

“Chan-“

“I can take it okay? It is on me, you never told me you were looking for something, you never told me anything really, so any ideas that I had about it, it is on 100% on me, I take responsibility for it. You never said anything, I just ran with it, it is totally my fault, so I am not ever angry I am a totally percent okay.”

“Chan-“ you try again, your mind racing against itself trying to put the whole picture together, trying to make sense of the puzzle in front of you.

“It is okay,” he repeats, “it was just-“ he sighs, “I know it is not your fault so we are good, I understand, again you didn’t said anything that would entail we holding hands in the library or going on the dates in the seafood restaurant or that our movies night would turn into something more, that all was my own wishful thinking so I don’t blame you and I don’t blame that you think it was a mistake, which clearly you told Wonwoo it was and I heard so I get it-”

“It wasn’t the party your doofus,” you scream finally making Chan shut up his enormous mouth – the corners now rounded, his irritating lips apart enough to make you think about your lips in between. “It was the non-sleeping part of it, even if it was the party that would not mean you.”

“Hm?” Chan hiccups a noise, his head tilting like you just knocked out every damn thought that was on his head and now a tumbleweed rolling in his skull like the beginning of a western movie.

“I thought about it,” you blurt it out, “I thought about it too. I was already thinking that we should order pizza and enjoy a movie. I did the whole scheme on my head ok? We would go to your house, Yeonjun would be drawing on the living room desk and Changbin would be screaming because he needs space for his digital mixer or whatever, we would laugh and pack enough clothes so you could spend the weekend, and we would do all the things we love. Not the seafood restaurant but a stroll on the pier, then we would wake up at four am and we would probably fight because you would hog the bathroom and ask stupid questions like ‘why are you washing your head if you are going to the beach’ or something insane like that. But you were the one that avoided me like the plague so if you add one plus one…”

“Ah,” Chan mutters – the corners of his mouth dancing, still unsure if it should go upwards and stretch into a smile.

“You are so dumb,” you say, this time your voice is sugary sweet.

Chan’s finally laugh – a loud sound that echoes through the empty beach. The corners of his mouth finally upwards this time, unabashedly. It stays in that position even when the sound dies but his mouth continues to stretch around his face like a cat stretching into the sun, almost lazily.

“Sorry,” he says, “what was that? I was too busy thinking about you saying that you think about me every second of the day.”

“I didn’t say that,” you retort but when Chan’s arms wraps around your waist you let yourself melt against his arms, your head finding it’s place on his shoulder, the sand against your legs.

“Oh sorry, that was me then,” he says kissing the crown of your head.

Your heart is so full that it could burst.

The research team’s dorm on the island is right by the beach and the whole time you walk towards it, Chan’s hand never leaves yours.

Your hands are interlocked when you both shower in the outdoors shower to get rid of the sand – Chan’s free hand patting the back of your legs and shorts. He keeps his grip firm when you struggle to get into the house – shoulders knocking against each other and the door frame. He doesn’t let go of your hand when you two walk through the door of his room.

The grip only seems to hesitate when you finally reach for your doorknob.

“Chan,” You call, pulling his hand until he Is inside the room.

The room, as Seungkwan would put it, is depressing. The single bed is so small not even you fit in that, let alone you and Chan. There is a small desk that is also depressing – you knee always hit the leg when you try to sit and work on writing your reports. The television on the wall is the only proof that humanity happened in this room other than your big ass backpack on the floor.

But when Chan presses his body against yours, his hands caress your jaw, and you finally get a taste of him again, you could not be bothered by the state of the room. You are too happy to care.

There is something holy, you think, in the way that Chan breathes every little noise you make. In the way that his hands dance on your ribcage with every breath. In the way that his tongue tastes you to the point that you are losing your damn mind.

There is almost no light now – the moon is timid in the sky, yet the colors in Chan’s cheeks are more pronounced. Your fingertips expand around his arm, and you can feel how warm his skin is – a small reminded that he spent the whole day under the sun.

Chan’s smile is lazy now. You feel like you are bathing in warm water, almost becoming undone when Chan’s hand presses against your stomach under your shirt.

“I want you,” Chan’s breath against your mouth, “so much.”

The noise that leaves your body should be embarrassing, but it isn’t, solely because Chan’s grunt against your neck. He nips at it, his lips following the dull pain that travels to your body. His hands grip at your hips. Another noise leaves your body, it makes Chan search for your mouth again, his lips hot against your jaw before he kisses you.

It is almost like exponential growth of a particular species of fish – they grow slowly, until it burst upward. Almost like something breaks inside of you and you can’t control how you reach for him – your nails finking in his shoulders, the way that your fingers slide against the material of his shirt until you are yanking it like there is nothing more sinful than having that layer between Chan’s and the moonlight.

Chan finally takes the matter in his own hand and makes his shirt disappear in that tiny room.

This Chan you think – is your favorite. This one under the moon, this one that every well-defined muscle gets framed by the dim light, this one that sits in the bed and pulls you until his back hits the wall, until you frame his legs with yours.

“I thought,” Chan hiccups when your fingers touch his waist, slowly getting under the material of his shorts, “I thought we wouldn’t do this again,” he admits.

“We can do this again,” you say, your tongue thick against the roof of your mouth, Chan’s hand is splay open around your back, his breath hot and haggard against your neck. It sounds like a plea to your own ears, but you don’t care.

When your hands finally envelopes Chan, his dick hard and hot against it, you whisper, “we will do it again.”

Chan’s hand holds your wrist. You can see his throat going up and down, almost like he is searching for air – it is only then you remember to breath too.

“Not like this,” he whispers so hurried you almost don’t catch it.

Chan lifts your shirt enough to kiss your ribcage, enough to kiss your sternum and to plant his lips against your breast. There is something hurried about Chan – he doesn’t take your bra off, he just gets it out of the way enough to kiss your nipple making the bra wire sit uncomfortable against your skin.

When he sucks your nipple into his mouth, he doesn’t make any mention of taking off your shirt, or bra, the only thing that he does is grab your thighs and pull your even close to him. You are joined by the hips, the flimsy material of your shorts and panties being the last barrier between you and him.

“I love when you do that,” Chan says against the skin of your breast. You know that by now Chan will be walking under the sun with crescent moons across his shoulders – your nails carving him a note that he is yours to every other human being.

“Hm?” It is between a noise and a question.

“The noises you make,” he says dragging down your shorts, “I love every sound,” he moves around the bed – pulling your hips, moving your legs, rotating his hips enough that you can feel him against your entrance, making you hiccup when he moves again finally leaving your naked.

When Chan’s hands leave you is like a cold and big wave washing you to the deeps ends of the sea. Terrifying.

“Come back,” you say without even realizing, pulling Chan by the shoulder, reaching your hands to his neck.

A laughter dances in the air again – it is smaller than the one at the beach, but it follows the same rhythm. “Do you want me that much?” He asks and you can feel the heat against your cheeks.

His hands hold your hips, finally – you can breathe again. Chan is around you - everywhere. You feel him under your thighs, against your stomach, his hands flushed against your spine pressing you against his body.

“I want you too,” he confesses, and you ask yourself if you answered his question – you don’t remember, but everything is getting fuzzy. Your skin is pulled taught, you can feel yourself ripped at the seams.

Chan guides your hips again, upwards this time. His mouth envelopes your breast again, his teeth pulling your nipple enough to the resembling pain - a reminder that everything happening is real, Chan is right there.

One of his hands leaves your hips and trails your body until it reaches your pussy. You and Chan respond at the same time with noise.

“Chan,” you breath out, unsure what you want to say.

“I know,” he says like he has figured out what you couldn’t fathom for yourself. “I’m right here,” he whispers before kissing you again. His mouth doesn’t leave yours when he guides his dick for your pussy. He doesn’t stop kissing you when you sink into him. You moan against his mouth and Chan eats every noise you make.

“That’s it,” Chan says, his hands griping your ass, mouth breathing against your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

You can feel Chan everywhere. Stretching you in all the right places. The muscles of your thighs burn, and you can feel the sweat form in every corner of your body. Chan guides your every move. Groping your legs, holding your waist, grasping your hips. There is not a centimeter of your body that he left untouched.

Chan’s fingers find your clit again. He buckles his hips and his rhythm falters. It gets harder to breath, “please baby,” Chan whispers against your throat and it is enough to make you cum, Chan follows you not even a second later.

It is hot, you can feel the sweat in the back of your knees, in your nape. The room is small enough to turn into a furnace, and the fact that you can feel Chan around you everywhere doesn’t help.

“We should shower,” you mutter, eyes closed and feeling your body move because Chan is fighting to get more comfortable, trying to find a position that this small bed can fit both of you.

“We are not moving,” he claims, “I am literally not felling my legs right now give me another hour.”

You laugh, finally, opening your eyes and looking at Chan – he is the one with his eyes closed now, the light dances on his features, but the corner of his mouth are upwards.

Chan changes according to the light.

But you think this one, this lazy Chan, spent on this small bed, with the corners of his mouth upwards is your favorite Chan.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

YoHi could you do more 50's Elvis fanfiction with other men and make it smutty if you don't mind I love your work

A/N: Of course! I thought Nick Adams would be a fun option for this, so it's set around '56. I hope you enjoy!

Hold on tight

Pairing: Elvis x Nick Adams

Word count: 1.6K

TWs: Smut, smut, smut! There's a hint of internalised homophobia but I've tried to keep it light.

It’s the millionth time this week that Elvis has seen Nick Adams, and it’s starting to piss his girlfriends off. I say girlfriends, because Elvis never was good at choosing one girl and sticking to her - he might have a main squeeze but there were always others, backups and backups of the backups… but lately they were all getting pushed out because of how much time he’s spending with Nick. The two of them just get on so well, and it’s easy for Elvis to talk to him in a way he doesn’t find it easy to talk to the guys in the Mafia. Probably because he doesn’t feel the need to be quite so macho in front of Nick, to pretend that he’s fine when he’s not. 

They’re on his Harley, driving around Memphis in the early hours of the morning when there’s no-one around to recognise them. It’s one of Elvis’ favourite things to do right now. After the success of Love Me Tender things have been getting more and more intense. Everywhere he goes now there’s a crowd of reporters and he’s surrounded by women pulling at his clothes or writing their numbers on his car. He likes it, but he also likes the escape of speeding along the empty roads on his motorcycle. Girls will go with him, but he always feels like he has to be a little more cautious when they do, to go a little slower with such precious cargo. Not so with Nick, though. With Nick he throws caution to the wind, like he’s doing right now, the other man’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist and holding on for dear life. The adrenalin courses through his veins as he accelerates even faster, riding with reckless abandon.

Nick presses his chest against Elvis’ back, heart pounding from more than just the speed of the ride. Elvis is exhilarating on his own, never mind the motorcycle. He has a kind of wildness that reminds Nick of James Dean. And, if he’s honest, he gets off on hanging around with people coming up on fame. Gets some kind of second-hand high from it, like a vampire searching for youth and power and drinking them down. Elvis hangs a left and Nick grips onto him, leaning to the right and praying he manages to stay on the Harley. He hears the other man laugh and knows it was a deliberate move to scare him a little. And it worked. He’s sitting on the back of the bike, scared and aroused. Just how he likes to be. Or is it how Elvis likes him to be? They're almost too similar. Birds of a feather. 

They finally come to a stop in one of Memphis’ many parks and tumble off the bike onto the grass, laughing together, that kind of shaky laughter that comes from time spent doing something that makes you fear for your life. 

“You ride that thing like a maniac, Presley.”

Elvis grins, wickedly. “Yeah. You love it. Clingin’ on to me like some kinda limpet.”

Nick pushes him in the side playfully. “I just don’t want to die young.”

“Dyin’ in a motorcycle crash with Elvis Presley is exactly the sorta thing you want.”

Elvis’ eyes are sparkling with amusement as Nick launches himself towards him, the pair of them rolling around on the grass, wrestling and laughing. He lets Nick win, enjoying being held down maybe a little more than he should. They’re both flushed and breathless from the play-fighting, and as Nick looks down at the other man beneath him he thinks, not for the first time, just how beautiful he is. Not handsome, or plain attractive, but actually beautiful in a way Nick didn’t think a man could be before they met. Cautiously, carefully, he leans down until his lips almost brush against Elvis’. Then he stops, afraid. Afraid of rejection, and worse than that, afraid of the death of their friendship if this isn’t what Elvis wants. 

“Aren’t ya gonna kiss me?”

The playful words break him out of his reverie and he reacts without thinking, closing the tiny gap between them and kissing his friend. His first thought is how soft Elvis’ lips are. His second thought is wondering why he didn’t do this sooner. It seems like Elvis wants it as much as he does. His lips part to let Nick’s tongue into his mouth and his strong hands pull the other man’s torso down against his own. They both feel the other’s erection at the same time, hips grinding against one another as they moan and sigh. 

Elvis’ heart is hammering in his chest. He’s wanted this for so long, but he’s been afraid. Not of what Nick would think, so much. He’s caught the other man looking at him with lust-filled eyes when he thought he wasn’t being observed. But he’s afraid of what it means, wanting another man like this. It’s against God, and nature, and absolutely not what his Mama would want him to do… but right now it feels so damn good he doesn’t care about any of that. The question of what happens next echoes in the back of his mind, floating about and trying desperately to get to the surface above all the other desperate thoughts of needing more contact and wanting to cum. 

He gasps as Nick pulls away, on his hands and knees above him now. Gasps from the shock of the sudden lack of contact. His hips buck needily and he sees a greedy look in the other man’s eyes. Nick bites his lip, drinking in the sight of that young body writhing and wanton beneath him, desperate for touch. The sudden rush of power makes him feel giddy. The realisation that he knows what he’s doing and Elvis doesn’t, and Elvis wants him just as much as he wants Elvis. With a little smirk, he moves to lie on his side, propping his head up on an elbow. 

“Turn over,” he instructs. “With your back to me.”

Elvis does as he’s told, and the other man feels him tremble as he puts his arm around him, pressing his chest into his back like they’re back on the Harley again. He kisses Elvis’ neck, tasting the salty sweat from the hot summer night. 

“N-Nick…”

“Can I touch you?” Words purred into Elvis’ ear. 

“P-please.”

Nick is briefly surprised to find him naked beneath his pants, but his surprise soon gives way to unbridled lust at the size of it. As he moves his hand up and down it feels different, and shifts slightly so he can get a look. He hasn’t seen many uncut dicks but it doesn’t phase him, if anything it’s easier not to have to worry about lubrication. Not that there’s an issue with that, precum freely leaking from the tip already. The whole thing is making him stupidly excited and his dick is positively aching. Without thinking, he shifts again, pulling Elvis’ pants down to his knees, using his other hand to direct his dick between the tops of the other man’s thighs. He tries not to get distracted by the perfect roundness of the ass in front of him, tries not to want more as he rolls his hips into it. 

Elvis stifles a moan as the hand wrapped around his dick speeds up and the other dick slides back and forth between his thighs. Is this what usually happens next? He has a feeling there’s something else, but pleasure crowds all other thoughts out of his mind. The feeling of a big, rough, experienced hand on him instead of the usual small, soft, cautious one making him feel something primal. 

“Oh God,” he mumbles, knowing he’s just a stroke or two away from ecstasy. 

Nick stops worrying about himself for a second and concentrates on Elvis, his hand in the other man’s hair, pulling his head back and exposing his perfect white throat. He runs his tongue from Elvis’ jaw to his collarbone, tasting him as he cums all over Nick’s hand with a guttural moan. Fuck. His face is so beautiful when he cums. Nick lets go of his hair and his dick at the same time, going back to the desperate pursuit of his own high, his hand gripping Elvis’ hip as he ruts against him, dick sliding between those perfect thighs, slick with precum. 

Elvis lies there, floppy as a ragdoll, letting himself be used for Nick’s pleasure until he hears his friend groan his name out loud and feels the spurt of the other man’s release on his skin. Drowsy with ecstasy, he turns over so they’re facing one another and grabs Nick’s face in both hands, kissing him passionately. They groan into one another’s mouths as their legs tangle together, oversensitive dicks rubbing against each other in a confusion of pleasure and just a little hint of discomfort. 

“Shit,” Nick mumbles against his lips. 

“What?” Elvis mumbles back, drunk on the other man’s touch. 

“You’re almost ready to go again.” 

To illustrate his point, he moves his hand to squeeze Elvis’ half-hard length. Elvis’ eyes roll back in his head at the feeling. 

“You want to?” He asks, breathlessly.

“Mhmm.”

“You wanna do it in a bed?”

Nick giggles. “Might be nice. You gonna take me back to your place?” He bats his eyelashes coquettishly. 

“Only if ya promise not to say anythin’ about my driving this time,” Elvis teases back. 

“I promise.”

Elvis looks at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Make sure you hang on though,” he tells Nick, lips grazing the other man’s ear. “Nice and tight.”

***

Taglist:

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy @presleyhearted @lvrdollep

[teaandfics]

Before the fall of Scala, there were rumors that Master Brain had a journal where he kept notes and sketches of all the portraits he eventually added to the palace gallery. No one ever dared to read it without his permission. They relied on the plaques below the portraits for any information.

But surely, someday, someone would read it. Maybe multiple people would. But Scala has been empty for a long, long time. The journal has collected dust in an abandoned tower for far, far longer.

“Portrait #11:

They never had a family photo all together. But Lauriam showed me one of him and Strelitzia, and then all the leaders had a portrait taken. I think they’d be happy with this, in spite of everything.

Lauriam, if you’re somehow reading this, I hope you found them. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see it like you hoped.

Ven, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re together. I hope you’re safe, and I hope you’ve been able to grow up past everything. You’re a good kid. And yeah, I have to admit, you did grow a backbone.

Strelitzia, we never met. But Ava trusted you enough to pick you and your brother really cared for you, so I’m sure you’re amazing. I hope you’re safe and I hope you’re together. I don’t expect you to forgive Ven, but if you can, I know you’ll get along. He’s a good kid for as much grief as I gave him.”

But no one has read these words in long time. The only words so many knew were the ones engraved on the plaque below.

“The Tarax Siblings:

From left to right is depicted- Union leader Strelitzia, Union leader Lauriam, and honorary Union leader Ventus

‘Perhaps in another life, I could have made this properly’- Master Brain”

********

I haven’t posted anything here, but I do love myself some writing as well as art. I even have an Ao3 (TeaAndFics04).

The idea came to me (and my gf) that Brain could very well undertake painting to cope with his loses. Imagine the drama of everyone finding his work, and all that jazz.

Either way, it is of my belief that Lauriam saw Ven as a little brother in some way. It would also explain why Ven later latched to Terra to have an older brother figure. It would also explain why Marluxia is so nice to Roxas when there was no chance of him being part of the coup. Buried memories and all.

Finally, Tarax comes from Taraxacum- the scientific name for Dandelions. It fits since 1. They’re dandelions and 2. Flowers + A Wayward Wind = Dandelions.

[deadstoats]

beebswap au? hatswap au? reverse au? idk, it's a beebo au

yeah, i haven't finished the game yet

yeah, i gave this au like 40 minutes of thinking

no, that won't stop me

BEHOLD

designs for my au where the main gays are swapped! if you're interested here's some info

ANGEL is a detective guy, and also a cop. yeah, he hates cops - that's why he wants to change the system from the inside, targeting a place of The Big Boss for that. also saving people is cool and awesome. he's a little bit of a perfectionist, trying to solve every case to the very end, and sometimes it looks like he doesn't care enough about his own health and life while doing his work. he may look like a careless himbo, but in fact his mind is pretty sharp, sharp enough to be a proper rival for...

OLIVER, the art critic, the art collector and the art thief. grumpy-looking guy that's just too autistic to remember to smile, looking fancy even at his worst. missing art pieces? what missing art pieces? he doesn't know anything about this... well, maybe he does. he's known for being a pretty rough art critic, but no one knows that he's also a famous thief that keeps stealing art from everywhere, leaving clues and traps for the police to solve. he gives them a chance! they can try to solve his riddles to get the thing back! no one was able to do this before tho

until one day, just once, detective Angel managed to solve all of his puzzles, but somehow activated a trap in a way that was, you know, kinda deadly. so oliver under disguise had no options but to step in and save him, and that gave police a chance to reclaim just one (1) piece of art he ever stole

and ummmm no i have no idea what oliver's crimesona would be. yet.

how these two ended up in our haunted house tho? pretty easy

oliver bought an abandoned museum, because rumors been saying there's a famous art piece hidden somewhere inside. he got eaten by The Haunted House, and when managed to get out completely destroyed the building. the one eugene was after, yeah. and yes, he's still The Traumatized One in this au, because when i see a traumatized gay person in a pixel indie game i want to fold them like a paper and kick around even more

angel, simply, was the one who've got assigned to solve eugene's case in the police departament. it wasn't hat hard, since they had enough evidence anyways, but our guy tried his best to find as much as he could. of course eugene got a "guilty" verdict because of him

so of course they both have gotten an invitation

and unlike canon, now oliver is the one who remembers everything

also a cute lil addition: in this au vivi is a reporter that kinda hangs out with cops for profit. they're allowing her on crime scenes and share info, and also she often follows angel when he's solving cases, and in return they ask her to not write about some things police doesn't need people to know or, the opposite, write about something to lure the criminal out or something like that altho, it's not like she will follow the rules, right? so in her articles there's still enough info that police wants to keep in secret... so angel often saves her from trouble with police

[mettywiththenotes]

It's actually fucking crazy how most of the league of villains are dead

I'll be honest, when Tomura died, I was very sad but I also thought that, narratively, if at least one of the other main villains were alive, preferably Toga or Dabi (because they are the only other two who have had more time invested in them by their heroes prior to the final war arc. thought was actually put into who they are as people), then the theme about everyone being saved including the villains who may need it can still mean something. Even with Tomura dead, something can still come from this

But then it was revealed Toga is dead. And then Dabi died too. Well, shit. Do we have any other villains left who can still make up the theme of "villains can be saved too"? Hmmm, let's see. Twice is dead. Kurogiri is dead. Stain is dead. Spinner is alive! Oh but there's no actual redemption for him and he's writing a book about the League's legacy. And maybe there's some hope there because he wished Shouji good luck, but, again, last we saw him he was in police custody, which doesn't really say anything good. Aaand Compress is in jail. Amazing (/sarcasm)

Actually, the only villains who could still carry along the theme of "everyone can be saved (villains too)" are Lady Nagant, Gentle Criminal and La Brava. They had redemption arcs and were somewhat saved by a hero, or at least they have a connection to him, and they survive until the end of the story

However, these are characters we don't know as well, aren't as relatable and don't show up continously like the League did. If you like these characters, that's great, but as characters who really only show up TWICE in the whole 430 chapter story (and remember, prior to the final war arc, they had only shown up once. ONCE. before being put aside for the end), it isn't as hard-hitting as it would have been with the League, and for a story like this that hinges on the implication of "but what about the villains who should be given the chance to have someone reach out and save them?", with an already full cast of main villains who absolutely had the narrative opportunity to be saved being killed off or imprisoned, it just doesn't. land well

Honestly it would have been all good and fine if these 3 were the only ones left to be saved, if they had had more appearances rather than just being one-arc opponents. Genuinely, if they had shown up more and had a bit more depth and insight into their characters or connections with the mc, I would have accepted it. Albeit sadly, since the lov would still be dead and I loved them, but I would still think "at least the theme still has meaning to it. at least there are still some villains who did get that redemption and tied it all in with reaching out for people who need it"

But that's not the case. With only having one other appearance before their last ones in the final war, in connection to the theme, it's just. weak. It's handled weakly, imo. Especially when, yknow, you kill off or put away most of the villains who could have been saved

And, actually, let's talk further about this. Because even though Lady Nagant is somewhat saved, survives and helps out the mc, she doesn't offer a good message at the end of the story. It's quite a shaky message tbh. To paraphrase, she basically says "I know I have the choice to go back into society now but honestly I don't trust it's not gonna be the same way it was again so I'm choosing to stay in jail and see what happens.". Which. I mean I guess it's something, in the face of her whole "AFO is bad but at least he means what he says" thing from before, at least now there's the implication that she's gonna wait to see how things go instead of jumping to work for a supervillain now that she has free choice again, but when the ending of your story is "things are going in the right direction" and you choose to have one of the only surviving villains who follows one of your themes stay in jail instead of returning to society or even just not living in jail but still watching what happens from afar is very. weird

And though it's a weird decision, I think the thing that would have made me feel better about it is seeing her out of jail in the future. At least just one panel of her, maybe somewhere in the background walking around the city or something. It would have made sense for her to initially be like "I'm nervous about the future and how things could change or not change at all" and then have her free in the outside world, showing that she overcame that fear of being used again after seeing how things supposedly changed. I get that this is probably something that's supposed to be left up to interpretation, but as a villain who actually made it and connected with one of the heroes, I think it would have meant something for her character, for what the heroes were trying (or saying they were trying) to achieve

Which leaves us with Gentle Criminal and La Brava. On the whole, these two are the only villains who get a redemption arc, survive the story and clearly go on to live their lives happily in society

And again, this would have been great if we had gotten more time with them. It would have been great if we had actually seen more of what their lives were like after the war, building their new business together instead of returning to villainy, instead of just having One (1) panel to show us they're alive. It would have been great if we didn't just have most of the villains, who we had more time with, who were pretty sympathetic (not that Gentle and Brava didn't have their moments but still) killed off or imprisoned without any deeper thought. But that's not the case, so it just sort of falls flat for me

Unless you're a Gentle and Brava stan and shipper, in which case congratulations. I like them too, they're cute! But it is insane to me, given everything

So I mean. Yeah. The only villains who really make it, who really add anything to the theme of "everyone can be saved even villains who may need help", are Gentle Criminal and La Brava

(and Nagant if we're giving the benefit of the doubt to the weird decision of her panels in jail being the last time we ever see her. I'm aware she's in prison just like Compress and such, but at least she has a choice whether she stays or goes, meaning she may get out in the future of her own will thanks to Hawks)

[bambisspeckles]

hii! so this is gonna be a pretty long post so i apologize. I wanted to apologize for my long absence, I've been super busy as well as just super depressed and unmotivated. I've really been wanting to write and create things for you all but I'm having a really hard time creating things and coming up with ideas.

That brings me to my next point, as much as i love writing and creating is hard to maintain semi-constant posting when I really don't know how my work is being received. I think people really underestimate the power of leaving comments or sending in asks. Of course I appreciate the likes and reblogs but I can only come up with so many ideas. When I started this blog I did it to create community, to interact with other cod fans, and to cultivate a page where we could interact and that honestly didn't really happen. I've been wanting to talk about this for a while but I didn't want to seem ungrateful. Believe I am very grateful for all of my followers, but it's hard to stay motivated when I feel like i'm expected to post but outside of likes I'm not really getting any interactions. This is an issue outside of my blog as well, a lot of fic writers have noticed and expressed the same things.

anyways, I don't want to ramble too much more but I just wanted to issue a proper apology and explanation for my absence. I still love cod and writing but it's hard to find motivate these days. If I have any ideas of things to write I will try and upload them to here but other than that right now I don't have much motivation to be active.

Stay safe, I love you all and happy new year :)

[vevobly]

not sure if ur taking requests rn but was wondering if you could do yellowjackets w someone who does photography/yearbook?

Yellowjackets With Photographer Reader!

A/N: I apologize in advance If I got your request wrong! I'm mainly writing headcanons these days, so that's what I went along with. Still, I hope you enjoy and devour this.

Jackie Taylor:

Jackie absolutely adores the attention you give her when you photograph her. Whether you told her yourself or not, she will insist that she's the best subject you've ever had. She'll suggest stuff like poses or candid shots she thinks would show her natural charm every once in a while.

Jackie is not particularly knowledgeable about photography but still, she'll try to impress you with comments like “That angle looks professional, right?” from time to time—she doesn't care if it may or may not make her look like an absolute idiot who is in love with you, she'll still do it.

When you tell her that you care more about capturing genuine moments, she's surprised. While you do like photographing Jackie from time to time, she always looks so guarded when you capture her. But after what you told her? She starts relaxing and letting her guard down around you.

Jackie secretly keeps any polaroid or printed photo you took of her tucked into her journal or locker. It's silly, she knows. But she doesn't want anyone else other than her to know about what you guys do. What you guys have seems like something special, and she'll be damned if she lets someone ruin it for her.

Shauna Shipman:

Shauna is fascinated by the way you see the whole world through your camera. She asks about your process from time to time. And just loves listening to you ramble on about all things involving or related to photography like lighting and composition.

She’s shy about being in front of the camera at first but eventually she does let you take a few pictures of her. And those pictures? All of it quickly becomes her favorite. Though, she wouldn't admit it right away to you—insisting she loves all of your pictures and not just those of her or with her.

If you ever show her a particularly good shot, she’ll quietly murmur stuff like “you’re really talented” with this small genuine, soft smile plastered on her face. There's a whole lot more she wants to tell you, but she isn't sure herself if you'd like to hear it or not.

When you're developing film in your darkroom, Shauna offers to help you even though she’s completely clueless about it. Why? Well, the heart makes you do silly things. And she just wants to spend time with you. Even if it could make her look like an idiot for it.

Taissa Turner:

Tai loves your photography and how it gives you this kind of unique perspective on certain things. She respects how much effort you put into it. And guess what? She's the one often encouraging you to enter competitions or submit your work to the school paper.

She's so proud of you and your own talent that it's to the point she ends up bragging about you every once in a while to her friends without even realizing it. She isn't aware of that herself until someone points it to her or after she's done with bragging about you to them.

Tai is camera-shy. Though despite that, she’ll agree to let you photograph her during soccer practice. But only when the team is winning and such! She'll tell you stuff like “no one wants to see me looking exhausted!” and so, when you're around photographing her.

If she notices you focusing on other people too much, she'll playfully tease you about why she isn’t your main subject yet. Or if she doesn't tease you about that, she'll tease you about how your eyes keep wandering to other people when it should be on her, your muse.

Van Palmer:

Van would think what you do is the coolest thing ever, even if you thought otherwise. No doubt, she would constantly joke about being your favorite subject. Aside from that, she'd probably pose funny and pull a ridiculous face in most photos you take of her.

She doesn't know much about your stuff but she's genuinely curious about it, especially the technical side of it. She would ask you a ton of questions and maybe even offer to help you develop your photos if you needed it (even if she knew only a little of it).

Van would suggest these fun places for you to take photos, always outing with you and basically having these mini photo expeditions with her. Besides those, she would help your gear without any complaints. But with that comes the endless jokes about photography!

She will always be the first one to hype up your work, just proudly showing it off to her friends and telling everyone how talented you—her lover is. If you ever doubted your work, Van would be there to remind you of all the great shots you've taken and just how amazing you are at what you're doing.

Natalie Scatorccio:

Natalie would lowkey be fascinated by the stuff you do. BUT! She wouldn't want to come off as too interested in it. So, she plays it cool. Saying things like "that's pretty badass" when you share your work to her. She loves all of your works but those raw shots you have are mainly her favorites.

She volunteers every once in a while to help scout interesting places for your shoots, using it as an excuse to just spend more time with you. If you wanted to take pictures of her, she'd act indifferently about it. But she's not fooling you, you know she secretly loves it.

Nat would be hella reluctant to take any photos you took of her, even if you told her it's no big deal and such. But she always budges in the end. She keeps any photos you took of her real closely, practically tucking them away like precious treasures she doesn't want anyone else to see.

She appreciates how you see beauty through photography. And aside from that, she really admires how you can find something meaningful or beautiful in ordinary moments. In ordinary things. You offered to show her how to use a camera once, and now she can't stop herself from taking pictures of you when you allow it,

Lottie Matthews:

Lottie would be extremely supportive of your photography. I mean, photography is a form of art and self-expression after all. And Lottie, contrary to what some people think, is a woman of art. She's always asking to look through your portfolio or recent shots.

She'd love being photographed by you, especially if it focused on more natural candid moments. Oh, and if it was set in natural settings like fields or forests. Besides the fact that your shots make her feel seen in a way no one else does. Your pictures of her are always oddly intimate and comforting to her.

Lottie has a lot of connections. So whether you expected it or not, she's almost always talking about you and recommending you to well-off people she knows would love to have their photos taken. Bet your ass that you're almost always being dragged to these fancy meetings between well-off people.

If you ever doubted your talent or got insecure about your work, Lottie is immediately marching up to you and reassuring you about it. She'll tell you all about how your photos have a lot of deep meanings (whether they do or don't) and that your talent is a gift that's meant to be shared.

Laura Lee:

Laura Lee would see your photography as a beautiful talent given to you by the man from above. She wouldn't fully understand the artistic side of it but she would appreciate your passion and dedication towards it though. She'll often encourage you to take shots of beautiful things, kissing you after it as a thank you.

She'd be a bit shy about being photographed but she would always let you take pictures of her if it made you happy. The thing is that she'd almost always ask to see every photo you took of her though, just to make sure she looked appropriate in it and so.

Just like Lottie, Laura Lee would love being photographed in natural settings like fields or forests. Why? Well, nature is one of the first creations of the man from above after all. Besides that, she really loves it when you capture her through meaningful moments between you guys.

If you ever felt discouraged with photography, she would encourage you to trust in your talent and in the man from above's plan. She would definitely offer you prayers and reassurance about it. Laura Lee in general believes in you a lot and aside from that, she sees what you do as something inspiring. Something joyful.

Misty Quigley:

Misty would be incredibly enthusiastic about your photography, probably a little too enthusiastic. She'd want to know every detail about the process and might even try to involve herself in it more than you'd want her to. She'd ask a lot of questions about it, like how you choose your subjects and so.

She would absolutely adore being photographed by you and she'd take it without a doubt as a sign of how deeply in love you are with her. She'd probably get a little possessive from time to time, especially when you're focusing your camera on someone else. She wants you to focus it on her more than anyone else.

Misty definitely would insist on being your main subject a lot, posing exaggeratedly over it while trying to be your muse. Her efforts come off as overbearing a lot. But hey, this is the girl that you saw and decided to like. The girl you choose to take out as your girlfriend. No complaints!

Despite how intense she could come off as sometimes, she genuinely does admire your talent and even goes to extreme lengths behind your back to help you succeed whether you asked for it or not. If you ever shared your photos with others, Misty would brag about it as if you're up and coming prodigy of some sort.

[you-me-we-04]

Okay so did anyone else think that the Scream 6 trailer is really setting up a past killer comeback? Like the room, the “I’m not like the other Ghostface.” even Gale brings up how the killers are not dead unless you shot them in the head rule. So these are my 3 theories (fan fiction) as to who the killers could be:

First up and let's face the most obvious person is Stu Macher, never shot in the head, (only crushed by a tv) forgotten by time he builds the room of memorabilia of not only his crimes but everyone else crimes and with each new killer he sees issues with their style, with their motive, with their kills. He finds them all unworthy of the Ghostface name, so he decides to take matters into his own hands to remind the world of his name and what a true Ghostface should be. It's clear Radio Silence knows their shit when it comes to Scream, so they know about the original script for Scream 3 both The cult of Ghostface stuff and Stu's role in that. Mainly the memorabilia room really gives off cult vibes, hell Gale calls it a shrine.  Only one Ghostface robe is behind glass, I think this could be Billy’s robe since Stu would likely view Billy as the only other person worthy of the Ghostface name. This also explains both going after Gale and the obsession with Sam. Stu would want Gale dead before Sidney since in Scream the whole reason Sidney gets away and overpowers them is because they were distracted by Gale, so Stu wants her dead early so she can’t mess with his plans again. He is obsessed with Sam because she is Billy's daughter and Stu may believe that because of this not only can he feel connected to Billy again but he could mentor her into being a great killer like her father. He’s not like the other Ghostface because he’s the original that has outlived all the other killers and is willing to do anything to keep it that way.

Next up we have Jill Roberts, never shot in the head (only near the heart but she was in a hospital and could have gotten the medical help needed very quickly) If she lived maybe everyone decided to keep that fact quiet since she wanted a fanbase and being a killer would give her that fanbase in a messed up way. The memorabilia room is filled with things from both killers and victims, Jill collected these things since she views herself as a victim (Forced to live in Sidney's shadow and the fact in Scream 4 she planned on being the new final girl) and the killer. Jill sets up her cult of Ghostface to act as the fanbase she wanted in 4. Plus the Ghostface we mostly see in the trailer seems to be very violent in a way very much like Jill in 4 mainly when she was setting up the crime scene. Plus Kirby’s back and it's a nice through-the-line. She is not like the other Ghostface since she got fans that are willing to do anything to prove their love for her.

Last but not least we have Angelina Tyler now I know what you're thinking, she was never a Ghostface however hear me out. At some point in Scream 3 production Angelina was planned to be one of the killers, along with this in the film while we see her get stabbed but at that point, Roman had already faked his death and maybe Angelina wasn’t the monologue type and was willing to watch from the shadows. She is also missing from the Trilogy boxset death toll thing and while that is likely a mistake I could see Radio Silence using this as a jumping-off point. Angelina’s memorabilia room represents everyone else failings both victims and killers, to her it's a point of pride that she got away with it. Unlike Roman, she has no real connection to Sidney in fact she spent so long studying other killers that she believes Sidney is the reason they all fail. So she goes after everyone else explaining why Sidney isn’t in the movie. She wants to prove herself as a killer hence why Ghostface is far more violent this time. She is after Sam so she can pin all the kills on her, so she can once again seem like the victim. She’s not like the other Ghostface since she’s the only one that got away with her crimes and lived to tell her story and she plans to keep it that way.

But hey that's just a theory a film theory, thanks for reading and let me know what you think :) 

[jerreeeeeee]

i don’t know if i’m ever gonna write the fic but i’ve been thinking abt like. the eternal stockade. the implications. lup, a lich who was trapped in a dark featureless cell for a decade completely isolated with nothing to keep her sanity but her own mind. she has to put people in the eternal stockade. how many liches does she see herself in. how many liches started out just like her. how many liches are truly too far gone. and the only liches we ever see other than her and barry are edward and lydia. they’re certainly evil, but mad? they seem pretty sane. they’re not, like, tattered echoes of souls, they’re definitely still people. even as much of a grudge as lup surely has against them, wouldn’t they remind her incredibly strongly of herself? do they deserve to be trapped just like she was? for eternity? isn’t eternity what turned john to existential despair in the first place?