#a section break image

[sunburstsandmoonshadows]

Hmmmmm...... thinking of Gravity Falls and the House of Eternal Return.....

For anyone who doesn't know what that second thing is, it's an art installation by "Meow Wolf", an art collective, that's essentially a whole house that starts off normal-looking and reveals itself to break into other universes. If you live in Santa Fe, New Mexico, go explore it. I went only once and god do I want to go again.

The in-universe reason the house was distorted and became a hotbed of portals into other realities is that the family living there lost one of them (a child), and broke time and space to bring him back, and boy doesn't that sound familiar.....

[chxrrie-bxmb]

Systober Day 15: A Family (Insys/Out-sys)

For the sake of keeping this entry a bit shorter, I'll only be doing an in-sys family. The family I'm choosing are our three Sk8 The Infinity introjects: Reki, Langa, and Cherry!

Reki (he/him) and Langa (he/snow/they) are actually one of our in-sys couples, and have been dating for a while now! They both spend their time going out at the crack of dawn to try out new skateboarding tricks, and Cherry (he/cher/she) is always the one who either has to tend to their injuries or yell at them to go back inside because it's way too cold outside for their shenanigans.

Reki is pretty similar to his source, but a bit more chaotic. He hardly listens to anyone, and often tries to do his typical stupid shit in body until Langa or Cherry take over front for a minute.

Langa is a bit more on the shy side, similar to source, but is a lot more open with people. Snow's also very silly when you get to know them!

[skrunksthatwunk]

ok so. kiwami 2. rooftop scene. the ending. it's a bit of a clusterfuck but i wanna talk about one detail, a problem they bring to your attention by Fucking. Talking About Her.

haruka is watching all of this unfold.

[this post is like 4.5k words long + pretty critical + has spoilers for kiwami and kiwami 2, and really minor/vague ones for a couple others. they're not that bad though, trust me (and i added a warning in the one place it is major)]

ALSO CONTENT WARNING i'm gonna talk about kiryu's passive suicidality a good amount in this one, so stay away from this if you think that might affect you negatively/you'd be better off skipping it. i'll also make a tl;dr (which i will highlight in red) at the very end if you really wanna know what my point is that will exclude those elements <3. i am also going to use a lot of choice-based language in regards to kiryu's contemplation of suicide because i think it's the lens through which the games treat the topic, but i personally don't find it a productive or realistic way to look at suicide or suicidal ideation at all. someone dying by suicide absolutely does not mean they don't care about their loved ones enough to fight on or whatever. i love you, and proceed with caution on this one.

(also i'm using the kiwamis as my point of reference because i uh. don't have a ps2? those are the games that i played, and though the differences are likely slight, i wanna be clear about that. also,, ignore the watermark on these screenshots,, i didn't notice them and i'm not retaking them. we're all gonna have to settle for youtube cutscene comps for now xoxo)

first, we have to talk about the ending of the first game.

[note: i am Really Really Confident kiryu has a conversation earlier in the game about his going to jail in nishiki's stead being him running away and choosing not to resist his two options (go to jail or let nishiki go to jail) and define his own path, fighting his way against fate to make it happen. part of why i'm so confident it exists is because it made such an impression on me at the time. it's pretty important to my interpretation of things but i also can't find it for the life of me, so uh. sorry ✌️ i really tried. this post's takes/analysis will be dependent on this scene existing, so keep that in mind. if anyone knows where to find the scene/screenshots of it, lmk and i'll add a follow-up with it]

kiwami stuff

so as she's dying, yumi tells haruka this:

that she may be dying (painfully, and right as she's getting everything she wanted), but she doesn't regret it, because at least she did something rather than running away from it all. that you shouldn't run away, ever.

shortly thereafter, when the police find kiryu and haruka, this exchange happens between him and date. here's the play by play:

date tells kiryu he can get him out of trouble with this, and that if he doesn't, he'll get life in prison; kiryu declines his help:

kiryu is so devastated (understandably) by the back to back losses of the three people closest to him that he resigns himself to life in prison, and the death-in-effect that would be. he would prefer to waste away rather than struggle through a life without them. prison was monotonous and isolating, but coming back after a decade was overwhelming, and coming back to everything being so warped and twisted, and then losing the corrupted scraps he had anyway, well. he wants to go back to sleep. he doesn't want to be in a world where everything's the same except he's on his own. better to return to safety, to die slowly in a hell he knows well than weather a new one where he has control and agency, and thus one where he has the ability to fail and to lose anything at any time. he explains to date that that loss is why he can accept his death:

date shakes him and asks him if there's really nothing left for him, no reason to keep living at all:

then echoes yumi's advice to haruka:

which makes an impression on kiryu:

date gives him a reason to live in the form of haruka, saying she'll be on her own again if he goes to jail. he hijacks kiryu's tragic protector complex to keep him alive, because she needs him, and because she's someone precious to him:

after the dust has cleared,

kiryu and date also have this exchange, where date tells him to stay away from the cops (and presumably arrest and a return to prison, the aforementioned fate akin to death), and kiryu cites haruka as his reason to stay away, one he holds to with no uncertainty (showing again that he's accepted date's logic, that his reason to keep living even when it's incredibly difficult is to care for the more vulnerable haruka). given the weight of the consequences, to me, it feels like date's telling him not to be alone with his thoughts or something. it's almost frightening:

so, what's our takeaway from kiwami?

kiryu lost everything and hit rock bottom, but he chose to fight, and to live life on his own terms, even when it got difficult. that's the narrative life lesson he had to learn to avoid repeating the events of 1995. he made that choice for haruka's sake. it's seen as growth.

and without him, haruka would've just returned to the orphanage (assuming she could make it back to sunflower at all) with no one who knew or understood what she had been through, no one to mourn with her, and no one to give her the attention, care, and protection she needs. kiryu knows what it's like to be an orphan with a limited parental figure who only checks in every so often (kazama, "aunt" yumi), and what someone will do for attention/affection from that person (via both himself and nishiki swearing up, climbing the ranks, etc. arguably haruka coming to kamurocho by herself to find "mizuki" is similar), and what it's like to lose them anyway (again, kazama, yumi). their situations parallel each others' somewhat, and that binds them further. and after losing everyone (which he blames himself for to some extent, as one can probably assume from this and 2, and something key to his arc in later games), he chooses to protect her. and this time, he won't fail. at least partially because failing would hurt him, too. he'd have nothing left again.

okay. now we get to kiwami 2.

if you forgot, the context is basically:

everybody's fighting on the roof of a building which i'm sure will not be a running theme or anything as the series goes on

there's a bomb that's about to go off and they don't know how to/can't defuse it

ryuji shot the twist villain to death, but took fatal hits to do so

sayama's like hey!! let's get out of here!!! and kiryu and ryuji are like nooo we have to settle this oughh it's punchin time and they stick her on an elevator and send her down so she doesn't have to watch

ryuji loses. sayama returns, they have a cute sibling heart to heart, and ryuji dies in her arms. sad

kiryu is in rough shape as well, and there's like 2 minutes left on the bomb's timer

here's the scene itself:

sayama tells kiryu they have to run, and kiryu says he can't. the gist is "let's run!" "you go without me" "i'm not leaving you!" "i'm in no condition to run" "i'll carry you then!!" sayama: *sees how fucked up kiryu is, realizes he's Going To Die Anyway* "ok, then i'm staying with you!" and then further bickering about that, before they give up and make out (as one does i guess)

date (he's here now) yells this at them from a helicopter:

before someone else in the helicopter tells date this:

we get this shot of haruka calling out to kiryu as the helicopter swerves away:

and kiryu and sayama have this exchange about haruka where they say they let her down, but that she'll understand:

then they hug and the bomb ticks to zero right when the credits hit. in post credits it's revealed that the twist villain defused the bomb when they weren't looking, betraying his co-villain for reasons i truthfully do not remember and am unwilling to look up. it's not about that right now.

so, how does this scene interact with the ending of the previous game?

the short answer is "badly <3" but here's the long answer:

it's about choices.

the thing about fiction is that anything you want to have happen, as a writer, can happen. it may not be effective, internally consistent, or logical, but you can write it regardless. audiences suspend their disbelief for the sake of engaging fully with your fiction, but everyone has a threshold past which they will stop being engaged in a story and either become uninvested or annoyed. writers usually have lines they're unwilling to cross as well. but in almost every story, there's at least a couple of places where they stretch reality a little to make the narrative they want happen. this is not a bad thing at all. that's how stories get told.

now, i'm gonna be real with you. i don't care about how feasible plots are like 95% of the time. it's not something i think about much, nor is it something i prioritize. i am a very character-centric media consumer, so if world building and/or plot are a bit stale or contrived, that doesn't really bother me much so long as i'm invested in the characters involved. some people can't stand plot holes or the ways musicals burst into song or whatever, and that's fine for them. but it's not something i tend to find that all that important.

this is all to say that i have a sorta affection for rgg's flavor of bullshit pulling. and it is a powerful flavor, maybe even an acquired taste, but i can and do rock with it so long as it doesn't damage the characters too much. this is why i'm not making a lengthy post howling into the void about joji kazama or the second joon-gi han or how many secret relatives there are. those things are silly and endearing and a clumsy yet heartfelt part of a series i care about very deeply. i'll joke about it, but i don't consider it much of a flaw. it's more like personality. flaws are texture, and they help a piece's identity. point is i am very, very willing and able to suspend my disbelief for these games in exchange for a good time, particularly via good characters.

(if you want another example of where i draw the line from within rgg, the answer's the YAKUZA 4 SPOILERS INCOMING rubber bullets twist, because i think 1) it's actively horrifically stupid (especially retconning a scene we SAW HAPPEN. WE SAW BLOOD ON EACH IMPACT, AND RUBBER BULLETS DON'T OFTEN BREAK SKIN THAT DEEPLY (THEIR DAMAGE IS MORE PERCUSSIVE THAN PENETRATIVE). THESE EVENTS HAPPEN IN THE SAME GAME YOU DON'T HAVE TO RETCON IT JUST REWRITE IT. OR DON'T SHOW THE HIT AT ALL SO THERE'S MORE PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY. DON'T DO THIS JUST TO HYPE UP YOUR SHITTY VILLAIN NO ONE CARES ABOUT. and 2) (a bit more importantly) i think it actively removes saejima's primary internal conflict for that game, that being his intense guilt over the 18 murders he thinks he committed, one i was invested and interested in. but this isn't a rubber bullets post.)

characters in this series walk off a lot of life threatening injuries. they survive miraculously, they escape in the nick of time, and they pull through in the end. kiryu still somehow hasn't killed anyone. almost every game in his saga ends with an "is kiryu gonna make it out this time?!?" shortly followed by a "yeah lol. lmao" postcredits reveal. kiryu fucking punches a marble statue into dust in the first game. having a story that asks you to suspend your disbelief so much and so often means that when a decision is made, it's not the writers saying, "well, this would have to happen so we are obligated/forced to write it happening" so much as "we wanted this to happen for some reason(s)," because you already know that they're not guided solely by logic. again, this is true of all writers, it's just amplified in stories like these because they've already given you so many hard mode suspension of disbelief moments (they've broken you in like leather, yeah? or like how obvious internet scams allow for self selection by being so obvious that only the most vulnerable people would fall for them. they curate an audience willing to play along with their bullshit flavor so they can tell a story that's more likely to satisfy that audience. in a good way, in a fun way! mass appeal is overrated). there is not much limit to what this series is willing to try and sell you.

so when ryuji takes lethal damage taking out the big bad, that's a choice. when he doesn't die immediately, that's a choice. when ryuji and kiryu send sayama away in the soon-to-be-forgotten elevator so they can settle this like men or whatever despite the literal actual bomb about to go off, that's a choice. when sayama comes back, that's a choice. when ryuji does die, that's a choice. when kiryu determines that he can't escape in time, that's a choice. when sayama is unwilling to leave him, that's a choice. when she says she'll carry him out and there's an elevator right fucking there and then she's like never mind i guess i won't anymore we're dying together right now kiryu like they're not gonna even try?? wouldn't distancing themselves from the blast give themselves a better shot, something that's super possible given the 2 minutes they have with that elevator??? sayama you met him like a week and a half ago why are you ready to die with him that's not a plot hole i just think that's kinda strange whatever anyway, that's a choice. when kiryu stops arguing with her so they can kiss (next to her brother's corpse), that's a choice. when date shows up, that's a choice. when the helicopter can't save them because the bomb was going to go off too soon, that's a choice. when they put haruka in that helicopter and take her away, let her only impact be reminding kiryu and sayama that they can't help her, that's a choice. when they spend their last moments talking as if they're already dead, then simply waiting, that's a choice.

they're all choices that the writers made for the characters, and we are asked to believe them for the sake of achieving the writers' vision, as with any story. the only problem is that the writers' vision here fucking blows.

i'm not saying it would be realistic for kiryu and sayama (and even ryuji) to make it out alive, but it wouldn't be out of character for the series in the slightest. kiryu is suddenly unable to power through here, and that's a choice. so, what is their vision?

put simply, i think they wanted a romantic last stand for kiryu and sayama, a tragic scene of doomed, devoted lovers. and i think they wanted an edge-of-your-seat fake out death. they wanted spectacle.

here's how some specific choices they made undermine all that shit we talked about earlier from the first game.

once again, kiryu is called by date to live, to pick himself up and keep going, no matter how impossible the odds are. he's even reminded by haruka's presence, his one anchor in keeping himself going. the growth he had in the parallel scene in the previous game is challenged, and he fails.

it's not enough this time. and that's a choice.

it's also one i can't think of a good reason for, and that's the real kicker.

characters can have developmental backslide just like people do, and if they're given good reason for it, it can be just as, if not far more compelling that purely linear growth (i am a chimera ant arc enjoyer, and that's all i'll say. sorry if you haven't seen hunter x hunter. uhh. i am also a zuko avatar enjoyer if that helps). but i can't think of anything that happened in that game that would cause this from a character perspective. if anything, kiryu should be less likely to do this intentionally. he's spent around a year raising haruka, and a year has passed since he lost his loved ones. at the very least, the pain should be more dull, though it is established through an early nightmare sequence that his ass is (justifiably) not over it yet. given that their deaths were the initial motivation for his willingness to rot forever, theoretically, he should be more motivated to stay alive than before now that he's got more investment and stability in his life outside of them, particularly when it comes to haruka, his reason for surviving. and if the ongoing nature of the trauma was the motivator for this, then they should've had it affect him more past that nightmare scene (it really serves more as a recap of the last game than anything else) so it didn't come out of nowhere. so the reminder of the lesson that saved his life and then guided it for at least a year afterwards, one that the whole resolution of the previous game relied on heavily falls flat for... some reason.

i think this is a good time to mention that, generally speaking, you don't write arbitrary choices into characters. sure, people in real life are often sporadic, but when analyzing fictional characters, every choice is filed into a portfolio of characterization that can and should be analyzed. going for pure realism can obfuscate their development, motivations, themes, etc. their choices and reactions may be unorthodox, but they must be internally consistent. this is very related to how i view plot contrivance as well. characters drive the plot, not the other way around. stories are about the ways characters affect their worlds/lives and vice versa, and they're the human face to the themes and ideas the writers are trying to explore and express. maybe my stance on this seems hypocritical. i don't know if it is. but to me, plot issues are usually a matter of engagement and investment, while character issues are a matter of substance.

i hope this doesn't feel patronizing explaining all of this, but i want you guys to know where i'm coming from in my analysis. starting at my base philosophy on writing is the easiest way to do that, i feel. defining the terms of the debate, and all that. anyway

and i mean, look. they survive because "it was defused the whole time we just didn't see it happen", so it's not like narrative tension or realism or whatever was THAT big of a priority overall. if it was gonna be a cop-out anyway, they should'nt have ruined kiryu's development too, yeah?. and sayama fucks off to america after this game anyway, so it's not like the doomed lovers thing had much payoff or meaning after this one (though you could argue that's more an issue with yakuza 3 than yk2, which has some merit to it). which means that they chose to sacrifice kiryu's prior development and internal logic for the sake of cheap tension for their finale that was both kinda illogical in and of itself (the elevator!! the elevator!!!) and a romantic climax that neither required nor really benefitted from this staging. (like. you coulda had them make out and then get saved by date, or kiss on the elevator in a "it's moving, but will we make it in time??" way or whatever. look i'm not saying those are great options either but they're SOMETHING okay. it would remove/reduce the amount of time wasted on characters sitting around with their thumbs up their asses for no reason in this finale).

instead the message of this finale is that, actually, sometimes it is impossible to change your circumstances and fight for your own way out of an awful situation. and what should you do about this unfortunate truth? uh. die! i guess. it's the exact opposite of the encouraging, optimistic message of the last game. zetsubou chou pride my ass.

note: i feel i should mention that when suicidality is brought up within the series (particularly in substories), it is always something someone has to overcome themselves through wanting it badly enough. they simply need the inspiration and the motivation to keep going. it's arguably treated as a moral obligation. frankly, the series is broadly very meritocratic (<- bad) when it comes to this topic (and others, but that's a Whole Other Thing. see akiyama's weird loan shark tests as well). sheer will and resolve is enough to conquer any problem, be it physical or mental/emotional, and it's irresponsible to act/feel otherwise. this is the logic the games operating under, and kiryu is often the mouthpiece for this bootstrap-pulling "tough love" sentiment. so when kiryu "chooses" to die, yet faces no emotional fallout from date, haruka, or anyone else, it feels very out of place. it's not just an odd choice; it's specifically, once again, an odd choice to make in context of the game/series/character it appears in.

kiryu's just like eh, haruka'll watch her only family die right as she gets some sense of tentative stability and lets her guard down after a devastating month the year prior (and a relatively dismal upbringing before that) that we trauma bonded over. sure, she likely came to view me as the one who would stay no matter what, who was too strong to be taken out, who she could always rely on, and so i know that dying would hurt her immensely, but she's smart enough to know it'd happen eventually. her eventual recovery means it's okay for me to do this (somehow, in a way it wasn't in the first game). it's an excuse within the narrative's logic, and one it is uncritical of simply because it's kiryu. he gets a pass.

and i think with the previously mentioned passive suicidality and general series-long mental health issues kiryu displays (i mean. yakuza 5's literally his depression arc), this could be retroactively seen as an interesting choice, like a piece in that particular narrative. i don't even dislike that viewing, especially in terms of fan approach. but (assuming this went down the same in yakuza 2), they likely didn't have that in mind. all they had then was the first game and the movie. and they took the first game's Entire Message and contradicted it for nothing but a scene they wanted to have happen because it'd be suspenseful and/or emotional (without actually doing the work to earn it). and they're not fans trying to analyze his character, they're the ones making choices for him. and they chose to massacre my boy. and if the subject of kiryu's mental health was a priority of theirs, why didn't they explore that? haruka and date's feelings on him not resisting and their words not being enough (whether that blame is justified by the narrative or not (it shouldn't be btw)), the uncomfortable drifting that resigning yourself to death and living afterwards anyway often brings, literally any conversation about it besides the minimal shit we get post credits of date being like "did you know about the bomb not having a fuse?" which like. bad answer either way (which is why they weren't straightforward about it, the cowards). you can't just be like "oh uh. idk he just gave up this time. yeah he was gonna die on purpose for some reason. good thing the bomb was fake lol" and then pack up and go home!! that's stupid!! any merit the idea of kiryu dying by suicide in this scene and in this way could have had from a character-based perspective loses its weight because 1. it didn't happen (for kinda stupid reasons), which makes it fall flat and 2. no one is really affected by the fact that it almost did, including him. they sacrificed his ass and replaced it with nothing, even when there could have been interesting outcomes to it.

so the narrative effectively chose to kill him by making the situation impossible, and this impossibility is ultimately arbitrary, given the series' usual approach to miraculous, illogical escapes. that, or the choice to stay was up to kiryu and sayama, one that 1. doesn't make sense and is actively regressive in context of kiryu's arc in the only other game in the series (as well as his whole saga in retrospect) and 2. one that contradicts how the series sees/treats resignation to death/death by suicide in all other contexts without being addressed, challenged, or condemned in ways it would in all other contexts. because they don't want you to think about it like that. they want you to think he (and the narrative) had no choice, that it made sense to do that. but it didn't. it doesn't.

and look, honestly? if i was bleeding out and had like 2 minutes to live, there's a non zero chance i'd say fuck it and kiss a girl too. i get it. but i am (and this is crucial) not a fucking yakuza character. and i'm certainly not kiryu kazuma.

tl;dr (basically just rephrasing the second to last main paragraph)

there are not sufficient character reasons for kiryu and sayama not trying to escape. additionally, because the narrative regularly facilitates even less likely escapes, it's not so constrained to logic and reality that it couldn't pull this one off. the choice to let their situation be impossible this one time was a cheap and arbitrary way of forcing a scene they thought would be cool and dramatic, and in doing so they chose to cannibalize a key emotional note of the previous finale (namely kiryu's mission to dedicate his life to protecting haruka) for hollow last minute stakes-upping in this one. it is then completely disregarded anyway. god damn.

[maya-chirps]

I was rushing my Christmas post but I was having some bad chronic illness days so I might actually delay it for a bit. I'm not sure if people would still be interested in it after Christmas but I should focus more on resting and recovering for now instead of rushing an imaginary and inconsequential deadline.

I did put a lot of research in it so I hope people still like it but I'm not gonna be the most timely with it.

Hope you guys understand.

[midniqhtt]

sebastian sallow

masterlist • hogwarts legacy • 03/27/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 never forget I @zevrra

where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them

𑣲 caught in the rain I @/zevrra

you and sebastian seek shelter inside an abandoned home where every feeling is laid to bare.

𑣲 truth or dare I @ppomumgranatum

Truths emerged and friendships were tested as you found yourself confronting two years' worth of suppressed feelings towards Sebastian. Drunk.

𑣲 the dance of love’s sweet potion I @/ppomumgranatum

When a potion meant to repel backfired, it became a mishap that turned your world upside down.

𑣲 marry me I @theealbatross

The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.

𑣲 fight the alchemy I @/theealbatross

Garreth asks why Sebastian isn’t dating you. Sebastian spirals.

𑣲 i love you, it’s ruining my life I @/theealbatross

Sebastian has the worst insomnia known to man and you are not dating him.

𑣲 never not been mine I @/theealbatross

Everyone wonders if you and Sebastian are together. Sebastian wonders when will everyone mind their own business.

𑣲 a habit to kick, an age old cure I @/theealbatross

you and Sebastian are now strangers but at your most vulnerable moment he picks up the pieces. only he knows. only he can.

𑣲 fever (what a lovely way to burn) I @shadowtriovibes

"since you saved Sebastian from Azkaban, he has met you in the common room every morning and you have gone to breakfast together. One morning he isn't there so you go to his room looking for him to find him in bed, poorly.”

𑣲 request I @/shadowtriovibes

Eric Northcott is relentlessly pursuing you, so Sebastian offers to act as your heroic boyfriend to get him off your back

𑣲 break a sweat part 2 part 3 part 4 I @/shadowtriovibes

sebastian makes the house quidditch team after training all summer. before his first match, you let him talk you into a bet over its outcome that will in all likelihood ruin your friendship. (merlin, you sure hope it does.)

𑣲 mind if i move in closer? I @/shadowtriovibes

𑣲 it’s a sign of the times part 2 I @/shadowtriovibes

Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian

𑣲 fissured composure I @anto-pops

After watching you hold your own against a handsy classmate, Sebastian is feeling particularly needy and steals you away to the Undercroft to show you just how worked up your right hook got him.

𑣲 possessive touch I @/anto-pops

Sebastian has never been the sharing sort. He was happy to loan people notes or quills, maybe even the occasional book from the Restricted Section. But not you. Never you.

𑣲 sudsy confessions I @/anto-pops

Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub.

𑣲 request I @/anto-pops

𑣲 unspoken attraction I @arthenaa

The girls and you have a talk on who they'll date amongst the students in Hogwarts. No one mentions Sebastian despite being deemed the most handsome in your year. You wonder why?

𑣲 jealously, jealousy I @awkwardauthorwrites

𑣲 i think he knows I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Sebastian helps Y/N with an interesting request

𑣲 violets and verbena I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Two years have passed since the events in Hogwarts Legacy, in which Y/N has drifted away from Sebastian. What happens when she has to spend some time in the hospital wing and he comes to visit?

𑣲 in the middle part 2 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

After a few months of knowing the reader the boys suddenly realise one day they are falling in love with the reader and start to become a bit bitter towards each other and very jealous if another guy gives her attention.

𑣲 wildest dreams part 2 part 3 I @/awkwardauthorwrites

Ten years have passed since the events of Hogwarts Legacy and Y/N is invited back as part of a reunion to celebrate.

𑣲 diesel is desire I @wttcsms

sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief.

𑣲 trust fall I @fairytalesandlegacies

Sebastian Sallow teaches you how to fight against the Imperius Curse late one night, and in the process, some long-kept secrets are revealed.

𑣲 i need you I @ravenelyx

Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

𑣲 who do you smell? I @roarieluz

Sebastian Sallow has had a crush on Y/N for a while now, this isn't news to him but when a strong batch of amortentia is made for potions class it is hard to keep his mind clear of anything that isn't about you and what he wants to do to you.

𑣲 the night shift part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 I @writing-intheundercroft

You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

𑣲 a long time coming I @undergaunts

aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.

𑣲 pining in potions class I @festivalsofmargot

Sebastian Sallow is forming a huge crush on you, and it’s hitting him all at once in a very annoying way. Something as simple as not being partnered with you in potions class eats away at him.

𑣲 pretty thoughts part 2 I @/festivalsofmargot

Sebastian is down bad for you, my dear reader. But a lot of overthinking on your part makes you blind to it. So, his only option is to keep chasing after you.

𑣲 a worrisome box of chocolates I @matchavellichor

𑣲 you look better in green part 2 I @fierymiasma

In which Sebastian sees the new transfer student wearing someone else’s scarf and proceeds to absolutely lose it.

𑣲 snow, scarves, and schemes I @spaceyaceface

Y/N is sick of Leander Prewett trying to court her. Luckily, she has a best friend named Sebastian Sallow who would love to help put an end to it. They devise a plan to pretend to court up until the Yule Ball. Should be simple, right? If only. 

𑣲 the one who stayed I @talesofesther

For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

𑣲 the winner takes all I @justauthoring

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

𑣲 bludgered I @slytherizz

Sebastian never really knew what his friend saw in Isaac Cooper but he never questioned it - he made his friend happy. That is until a Quidditch match goes quickly awry and he realises his feelings for her may go far deeper than simple friendship.

𑣲 between the two of you I @cuffmeinblack

Rewriting of the events of the Shadow of the Study/Discovery quests.

𑣲 i crumble completely (when you cry) I @atlabeth

there's only one way to get into salazar slytherin's scriptorium.

𑣲 right where you left me I @anomalyaly

You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.

𑣲 in the shadow of the mountain I @ellecdc

fed up with Sebastian. After admitting he "shouldn't have acted so bitterly about your goblin friend", you expect him to be in better spirits on your next quest. He keeps putting the both of you in danger, and you've had it.

𑣲 i remember I @whizzing-fizzbee

You died during your seventh year at Hogwarts before you could tell your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, how much you loved him. But when he discovers a box of your pensieve memories, he learns the comforting, yet cruel truth.

[ebodebo]

"Come to bed," Jason calls out, his voice a low murmur as you stand in the bathroom, carefully brushing your teeth. 

He’s lounging shirtless in your shared bed, the sheets barely draped over the sweatpants he’s wearing.

"I'll be there in a minute," you call back, your voice muffled by the toothbrush in your mouth.

He groans at the response, and you giggle.

You're sporting his oversized, worn-out tee that reads, "Property of Gotham City," paired with just a set of daring red panties.

You can feel his eyes on you, his gaze like a warm caress on your skin. In the mirror, you catch him stealing a cheeky view of your panties as the shirt rides up, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Bad boy,” you playfully scold, reaching for a magazine on the back of the toilet and holding it up to browse through.

He throws his head back against the headboard, overwhelmed with despair. "You’re killin’ me, Baby."

You let out a chuckle as you rinse out your mouth, quickly wiping it clean with a towel. Suddenly, you freeze, your eyes locking onto a new article that catches your attention.

You grab the magazine from the counter, feeling the paper crinkle in your grip as you turn to face Jason. He sits upright, his relaxed demeanor radiating an easy confidence.

"Listen to this," you say, clearing your throat with a cough before adopting a playful, sultry news anchor tone as you begin to read the article.

"Red, Hot, and Ready: The audacious vigilante, Red Hood, knocks the charming Nightwing off his pedestal in Gotham Time’s Sexiest Vigilante Poll," you teased, drawing nearer to him.

“Uh-huh. You done?” He drawled, a playful spark dancing in his eyes.

"The majority of pollers found Red Hood's enigmatic presence rather…” you pause, shifting onto the bed and positioning yourself to straddle his lap as you draw closer to him.

His hands find their way to your hips, raising an eyebrow as you lean in closer, holding his gaze without breaking eye contact.

"…alluring," you finish, as Jason makes an amused face. 

"That was���captivating," he sarcastically says, his tone dripping with dry humor.

"I can't believe my boyfriend is a celebrity," you say with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Can you still love a nobody like me with your towering  status?" You question, with a sarcastic inflection that's hard to miss.

"It'll make me look more humble than I already am, so yes," he jokes.

You laugh. "Yes. Oh, so very humble."

He laughs softly as his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently gliding over your bare skin. You lift the magazine again, your eyes quickly scanning the 'Poller's Insight' section.

You can’t help but chuckle, clearly entertained.

"Oh my God. When asked what pollers thought of his rather blunt demeanor, they responded, ‘It’s hot. Like really, really hot,’" you say, grinning widely, your eyes locking back onto his.

“Why are you laughin?’” He asks, adopting a mock-serious tone, his eyes filled with admiration as they gaze intently into yours.

"It's just, so...hilarious," you sputter.

"You jealous you got some competition now?" He quips, fingers greedily gripping the fat of your hips.

"Hah! I'd like to see someone try to deal with you, especially in bed," you cackle.

"You wound me," he jests, with mock outrage.

You grin, casting the magazine aside, bringing your hands to sqeeze his cheeks. "You know what I mean. Baby, you're insatiable."

"I just can't get enough of you," he utters, his pupils dilate as he peers at you.

He is the spitting image of devotion. 

"You're so...perfect," you murmur, finger running down his cheek to easily trace the outline of his lips. "So perfect."

"Seems you're the only one to think that," he mutters, his fingers tracing random shapes into the skin on your hips, eyes moving to glance at your lips.

"That's alright," you begin, tone just above a whisper as your eyes flick over his shamelessly hone in on your lips. 

"You'll be just my perfect boy."

He inhales a deep breath, his fingers stop moving, and his eyes flick back to yours in an instant. You give him a light smile, lightly moving your fingers against his cheek.

He dips his head forward, lips brushing against yours. You lean into him, hand resting on the nape of his neck. His hands move to grip your waist, holding you in place as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slightly before Jason pulls it back down. Your protests die on your tongue as he slips his tongue in your mouth, fingers moving to fiddle with the waistband of your panties, easing them down behind your knees.

He pulls back, reaching for his sweatpants and boxers, which are stretched over his thighs. "Nah. Leave it on. Wanna fuck you in it," he finally mumbles.

Jesus Christ. 

"Okay," you mechanically say, already breathless.

You would do just about anything he told you to.

He grips your waist tight, moving you so you hover over his erect cock. "Ready, Baby?" He asks, eyes locked on yours. 

You grip his shoulders. "Ready," you affirm.

He hisses as he slides his cock into you with much ease. You let out a pathetic whine at the contact. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he grunts, helping you move against him. 

"Ride me, Baby. Ride me," he breathes into your neck.

You let out something of a moan and whine as you place one of your hands over one of his hands positioned on your waist, and the other stays gripping his shoulder for support. 

Your hips move back and forth, his rising to match your rhythm. He leans his head back, releasing an anguished moan in the process, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.

"Am I doing alright?" You ask with only slight apprehension. 

"Yeah, Baby. Doin' so good—so good," he amends through labored breaths. 

"Yeah?" As you speed up the pace, you retort, desperate to make him feel good. 

"So fuckin' good," he groans, throwing his head and hitting the bed's backboard as you sit completely on him, his cock slipping deeper into you. 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to his Adam's apple as you go up and down on his cock, occasionally grinding down to give your clit some more stimulation. 

His fingers dig into your flesh with much pressure. "Fuck, Baby. I'm gonna—" he grunts.

"Yeah, me too—me too," you affirm, grinding yourself against him until you're wailing his name and he's mumbling curses.

You rest your forehead against him, both of your chests heaving, and sweat gathering around your temples. "We should do that—" you begin, catching your breath "—more often."

He lifts his eyes to look at you, his mouth contorting into a cheeky smile. "I'll do anything you want, Baby," he affirms through ragged breaths. 

"See, you are perfect," you jest, releasing a stifled laugh.

He playfully rolls his eyes, hands moving to get a handful of your ass, grinding you into him a little. You moan at the contact, still sensitive.

"And insatiable," he smirks, flipping you onto your back.

You ready yourself for a long night and can't find it in yourself to be mad about that. 

a/n: another self-indulgent fic🤰<-me rn divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[grandline-fics]

Hot Off The Press

DESCRIPTION: Their reaction when you end up in the newspaper unexpectedly

WARNINGS:  none, implications of crushes

CHARACTERS: Law, Smoker

WORDS: 1,730

A/N: Just a silly idea that came to mind that I wanted to explore with a couple of the One Piece guys. I had fun doing this and may do more at some stage with other characters in this scenario. Hope you all enjoy what I came up with

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

LAW

Unlike some of the other pirates around, Law kept up with the news and goings on in the world regardless of if there was an inkling his or the crews bounties would go up or not. He needed to be aware of everything going on at all times in order to plan the best course of action and leave very little room for surprises should the next island he came to be already in the middle of some drama that could be either avoided or exploited. One morning he walked into the dining room of the Polar Tang to join the rest of the crew for breakfast. Grabbing his morning coffee he took his usual seat and flicked open the paper, beginning to leisurely read through it while enjoying idle conversation with the rest of the crew. 

“Hey Captain can I-” Penguin’s question was cut off immediately when Law was already pulling out the so-called ‘entertainment' section of the paper and passed it across the table. That was the one section he felt was an entire waste of paper and ink and only glanced at just incase something of note had slipped through. Most of the time though? Even the barest glance felt like a handful of seconds he’d never get back due to the pointless garbage written on the pages. “Thank Cap!” Law gave a non-committal grunt in acknowledgement to his subordinate’s thanks and trained his attention instead into a story about political unrest affecting two neighbouring islands. 

Unfortunately his focus was interrupted when Penguin suddenly let out a gasp just as he was taking a bite of his breakfast causing him to choke. Law set his paper down and rose sharply, making his way directly to his friend. It was a relief that in that time Law approached, Penguin had managed to dislodge the food and caught his breath. “Oi, why didn’t you chew? Nearly gave us a heart attack!” Law lectured, using his relief to fuel his panicked lecture. Penguin nervously shifted in his seat and with another clearing of his throat he shakily turned over the entertainment section to show Law and the others what had caused his mishap. Law’s eyes dropped to the print and they widened, sharply snatching it from the table just as you walked in with a long yawn breaking from your lips. “Mornin’ guys…”

When no-one answered you blinked and frowned at the group in confusion. Stepping closer you looked over Law’s shoulder to see what had gotten his and everyone else’s attention. Similar to Law, your eyes bugged and you pulled his arm towards you so you could get a better look, as iff the extra inch of space would make the page change from what you couldn’t believe you were seeing. First was the eye-popping headline “HOT PIRATE OF THE WEEK: HEART PIRATES’ HEARTBREAKER!” Filling the page were images of you standing on the dock of the Polar Tang on one of the occasions the sub had surfaced and you were performing maintenance on the vessel. 

Slowly you remembered that day. It had been so hot that you had to undo the top of your boiler suit and tie the sleeves around your waist to reveal the tank top you'd been wearing underneath. Your skin was lightly sheened with sweat and cheek smeared with a small streak of oil. Nervously you rubbed the back of your neck as you looked over the images, you were just doing your job but somehow the photographer had managed to take countless photos, all of them very flattering. It did unnerve you slightly to think that everyone would see you like this along with cheesy one-liners of ‘they can perform maintenance on me any day,’ ‘tune me up,’ ‘let’s let off some steam,’ and your favourite ‘Captain Law, can we join your crew?’

Nervously you chewed your lip and looked away to finally see your Captain’s reaction, fearing he would lecture you. Instead it surprised you to see the back of his neck and his cheeks were tinged a very noticeable pink as his eyes were glued to your pictures. Unable to help yourself you couldn’t help but smile slightly, pleased and a little giddy that he was looking appreciatively. Still you needed to break the silent tension. “I’m surprised they got my good side.”

“You stupid? Every side is your good side.” Law asked suddenly, his mouth acting while his brain was still distracted. Your eyes widened and lit in shock at Law’s words, your smile growing when realisation hit your usually serious Captain that he’d said it aloud. Flustered and unable to recover, Law swiftly turned and left the room to the safety of his office and you grinned wider to notice he’d kept a firm hold on the paper as he left.

SMOKER

Something strange was happening at G5 and it was pissing Smoker off to no end. Every few minutes calls and missives came through, the influx a lot more than normal. The usual missions and reports were overwhelmed with transfer requests coming from all sections of the world’s seas. Part of him thought it was a well co-ordinated prank being pulled on him from the different divisions by very bored and motivated Marines that he must have angered in some way. This had to have been a prank or revenge it had to. There was no way all these requests to come to G5 was genuine. 

It hadn’t even reached mid-morning yet and what little patience he had was gone when the next transfer request came through. Angrily Smoker slammed his hand down on his desk and rose from his desk, having had more than enough nonsense to last him a lifetime. If he stayed in his office for much longer, he’d be driven to making his own transfer request to get away from it all. Needing a distraction to clear his head, Smoker began to walk aimlessly in search of what seemed like the quietest section of the base. In his mind he thought if it was quiet then that meant there would be no-one around to pester him. 

“Smoker!” Smoker came to an abrupt halt and turned his head sharply to see you approach him, your pace quickened and expression just as frustrated and annoyed as he was. Your own sour mood was probably why you weren’t trying to stay out of his way. Now finding his distraction, Smoker faced you properly. You huffed out a sharp breath, relieved that the commander had finally snapped out of whatever he was thinking about and stopped long enough for you to catch up and stop in front of him. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

“Wasn’t paying attention to anything really.” Smoker explained, only now noticing his cigars had burned to nothing. Grabbing two more from his jacket he lit them and placed them into his mouth, taking a fresh inhale of the nicotine helping to make him more grounded. Releasing the breath of smoke, he used his ability to direct it away from your face as he focussed his attention on you. “So what did you need?”

“Just a general inquiry.” You began while trying to control your anger while it was still fresh. In a base full of short fuses you at least tried to stay levelheaded around your commander. You took a slow breath and looked to him, still unable to keep the scowl from your face. “How much trouble would I get in for beating up a newspaper employee?”

“Not like you to get so hotheaded about journalists…” You let out a bitter scoff at the word ‘journalist’ and your hand holding the rolled up paper tightened to the point the paper crinkled loud enough to make Smoker’s gaze drop from your face. “What’s been reported?”

“You haven’t seen it?” You asked, momentarily confused. You thought everyone else had. Or was he acting dumb on purpose so you would have to relive your embarrassment in realtime in front of him. Deep down you knew that wasn't Smoker’s nature, and his mirrored look of confusion confirmed that. With a sigh you lifted your hand, offering the rolled up paper to him. 

Smoker lightly tugged the paper out of your reluctant grip and let it unfurl. Knowing this had to be personal for you he flicked through the pages in search of the cause for your wish to cause harm to a civilian. Finally he found it, or rather it practically jumped out at him when he turned the page. Your image filled the page, the photo capturing you mid-battle. One foot had connected with the blurred shape of a pirate while your body was arched, your weapon in hand and aimed at another enemy. Smoker took in your form, eyebrows raised at how poised and strong you were. What got him the most was the fearsome, intense edge lighting your eyes, your focus entirely on stopping the pirates that had tried to ransack a village. All in all it was an extremely flattering story about your heroism and undeniable strength. Yes, there were some comments about your attractiveness but Smoker couldn’t exactly argue, not when the facts were so clearly staring him in the face-both on paper and in person. 

Finally Smoker’s eyes zeroed in on how the story piece stated you were a part of the G5 base and he let out a huff of frustration and amusement. So this was the reason for his morning-long headache. “You just have to live with it. There’ll be a different story by tomorrow.” Smoker shrugged calmly and handed the paper back to you. “Don’t let something like this bother you. Okay?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You grumbled. “Why did they have to fill a page with my picture? Why even use my picture at all?”

“Why not? It looks good.” Your head snapped up at Smoker’s murmured comment, eyes widened and heat prickling the back of your neck. He looked completely composed and stoic, acting as if he hadn’t said anything at all but you knew what you heard. Instead he lightly tapped your shoulder and started to head back towards his office, idly calling after you as he went. “If you’ll excuse me I have transfer requests to formally reject. Just keep up the good work.”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa@kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost

[ultyso]

❕More updates 2/20/2024

Twitter: Source, Source

[ID: Screenshot from Twitter with text:

Maha Hussaini @MahaGaza. 4 m

Breaking: Israeli forces just separated Rafah in the southern #Gaza Strip from the adjacent cities and areas, meaning that the around 1.5 million Palestinians there cannot now evacuate it while the army is preparing for a ground invasion.

Maha Hussaini @MahaGaza. 9m

At least 29 Palestinians killed in Israeli airstrikes on Nussairat and Deir al-Balah refugee camps in the past hours]

Recent Update also at Reblog

UPDATE:

Twitter: Source

[ID: Twitter Screenshot: Alaa Shaath | علاء شعث @3 laashaath

الدبابات الاسرائيلية تهاجم منطقة المواصي "الآمنة" في خانيونس وتحاول عزل المنطقة الجنوبية بالكامل..

Israeli Soldiers attack the "safe" Al-mawasi area in Khan Yunis and try to isolate the southern region

11:52 AM 2/20/24 15K Views]

Twitter: Source

[ID: Twitter screenshot: Qrt message: Aseel Mousa @/aselmousa A few hours ago, Israel instructed the residents of Al-Zaytoun neighborhood and the Turkmen, to relocate to the designated "safe area" in Al-Mawasi. Shortly before, Israeli forces stormed Al-Mawasi and killed a number of civilians, and the storm is still ongoing. #Gaza_Genocide. The image

The post they qrt’d from says:

Yasser @ Yasser_Gaza 4hr Ago

قبل ساعات نشر جيش الاحتلال تحذيرا لسكان حي الزيتون والتركمان بضرورة النزوح إلى "المنطقة الآمنة" في المواصي، وقبل قليل اقتحم جنود الاحتلال المواصي وقتل عدد من الشهداء فيها ولازال الاقتحام مستمر.

أوسخ احتلال

Image shows a map broken down into smaller sections with text: الى كل المتواجدين في احياء الزيتون والتركمان

حرصًا على سلامتكم ندعوكم للانتقال فورًا عبر شارع صلاح الدين إلى المنطقة الإنسانية في المواصي]

Twitter: Source

[ID: Twitter Screenshot: Mohammad Shoaib Al-Farra @/mohshoaibfarra

فعلا الدبابات انسحبت وانتهى الحدث حسب الاقارب هناك

Translated from Arabic by Google

In fact, the tanks withdrew and the event ended, according to relatives there

6:28 PM 2/20/24 From Earth • 11 Views]

[wearenemies]

dashboard simulator

mutual 1: *poor quality image of pete wentz* does anybody know where i can buy a crowbar. for sexual purposes

mutual 2: my mikey way tulpa is coming along well

mutual 3: its so over after this mcr is breaking up forever theres no hope for us didnt you see the messaging in their staging. god. fuck its over

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 4: im killing myself tomorrow

mutual 5: both of these blog posts may seem innocuous at first, but in fact when considered in relation to one another we can observe several similar phrases, and a pattern emerges in the pacing of his prose that proves without a doubt that he’s having an extramarital affair with his singer. first, the recurrence of the phra

mutual 1: i need to get a man pregnant

mutual 4: *joe trohman image* killing myself cancelled hello gorgeous 😍😍😍😍😍

mutual 6: mcr is releasing new music next week i know this deep in my soul the messaging in their staging is unmissable guys we have never been so fucking back in our lives

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 3: *image of two members of my chemical romance publicly beating the snot out of one another* do you remember how we used to run

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 7: frank iero is like a delicious steak to me i need to rip him apart like a feral dog

mutual 8: *the most stunning lovingly rendered drawing you’ve ever seen in your life of two middle aged musicians making out nasty style* just a quick doodle :)

mutual 4: my fucking bus was late killing myself is officially back on

mutual 5: *web weave consisting of sections of beautiful niche literature, medieval biblical illustrations, 17th century oil paintings, james baldwin quotations and peterick interviews*

mutual 1: *image of patrick stump’s bulge*

mutual 7: do you guys think i could cite unholyverse in my applied religious literature thesis i cant ask my professor because she blocked my email but idk i think it counts as a good modern text

mutual 2: guys i think my mikey way tulpa might be starting to crave blood

mutual 6: *ray toro image* im experiencing divine ecstasy i need her to [DATA EXPUNGED]

mutual 9: i cant listen to fall out boy anymore guys i had a nightmare where andy was chasing me in the dark forest it seemed really real

mutual 10 (unattached to bandom): out of the beatles john would for sure have the biggest boobs

mutual 1: what if it was called when we were freaky fest

[zarvasace]

Description and a bit more info under the cut. 

A series of green, blue, and red graphics using a nice sans serif font and a Zelda display serif font with white and gold as accents. 

First picture. 2024 Linked Universe Fandom AO3 Wrapped, presented by Mina, @zarvasace. (That's me!) 

As a fandom, we wrote 2,273 fics in 2024

That's over 6 a day every day this year! 

In smaller text below: Counting only fics tagged with “Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda)” on AO3. Counting all fics last updated from Jan 1, 2024 to Dec 31, 2024. Data pulled by hand on Jan 1, 2024 at ~2:00 AM GMT-7. 

Next picture. Our favorite tags this year were:

1, Hurt/Comfort with 432 tags

2, Fluff with 352 tags

3, Angst with 335 tags 

4, Not Beta Read with 260 tags. Here there is also a brief exchange in two handwriting styles. One arrow points to this tag with the remark, “perfectionists, much?” Another cursive hand replies “Be nice.” to which the first says, “no”

5, Legend-centric with 251 tags

At the bottom of this image is a piece of parchment. The scratchier handwriting says, “Ha, I'm the favorite. Take that.” and the curlier handwriting replies “Not so fast, Ledge… we aren't done yet.”

Next picture. Favorite tags continued:

6, Blood and Injury with 230 tags

7, Wild-centric with 204 tags 

8, Whump with 215 tags 

9, Emotional Hurt/Comfort with 181 tags

10, Good Older Sibling Warriors with 163 tags. Legend's handwriting says “Din give me strength—” to that. 

Section break, and a bit more: An average of 7.46% fics every month were tagged Whump. Except October, which saw a spike to 29.5%.

Next picture. Our favorite Links. This info is presented in a table, with names on the left and number of tags on the right, organized from most to least. 

Warriors, 1408 (his handwriting says: HA!! I won something!)

Legend, 1398 (his handwriting says: BY TEN.)

Twilight, 1371

Time, 1323

Wild, 1217

Hyrule, 1151

Wind, 1143

Sky, 1137

Four, 1027

At the bottom is another piece of parchment. Legend says: “JUST TEN.” Warriors says: “Jealous?” Legend replies: “I don't know if being the favorite is a good thing.”

Next picture. Our favorite secondary characters were Malon (176 tags) and Racio (160 tags)

Section break. and the most popular pairings were Malon/Time (161 tags), Legend/Racio (89 tags*), Sky/Sun (66 tags).

At the bottom is the asterisk footnote: it's no secret that our fandom tags are a little wonky sometimes. This number adds together the works tagged “Legend (Linked Universe)/Ravio” and “Link/Ravio” where the work was also tagged “Linked Universe,” assuming that people would only tag one. 

Next picture. 2024’s longest fic was: This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja (linked below). 

Editor’s note: linked here!

With a total of 312,547 words. That's almost 971 a day! 

Began July 14, 2023, Finished May 30, 2024. 

Screenshot of the tag summary from AO3, showing a Mature rating, Gen, an archive warning, and complete. 

Significant tags: Time Travel, the Chain as Family, Time Loop, Multiversal Time Travel, Temporal War Crimes, Chain Meets Chain, Chronically Ill Sky, Four Splits Into the Colors, Fairy Hyrule, Hyrule Has a Blood Curse. 

At the bottom, Legend’s writing says: “That sounds like a lot of time travel…”

Next four pictures are a set titled Fandom Trends by month. Each month has, in order, a Popular Link, Popular Duos, Popular Genre, and Unique Tags, along with occasional handwritten commentary. 

January: Twilight. Twilight & Wild. Hurt/Comfort. Crack, Soft Legend. Commentary: Warriors says “aww.” and Legend responds “I'm going to poison your milk.” 

February: Warriors. Twilight & Wild, Twilight & Warriors, Legend & Warriors. Angst. Febuwhump 2024. 

March: Twilight. Twilight & Wild, Time & Twilight. Fluff. One Shot, Linked Universe Discord Server’s 5th Birthday Gift Exchange.

April: Legend. Twilight & Wild, Twilight and Warriors. (Commentary from Legend: “wow Twi”) Fluff. Humor, Canon-Typical Violence.

May: Twilight, Warriors. Hyrule & Legend, Twilight & Wild. (Commentary from Legend, circling Hyrule’s name: “Finally some good taste.”) Fluff. Other Additional Tags to be Added. 

June: Twilight. Twilight & Wild, Time & Warriors. Hurt/Comfort. June of Doom 2024, Sky-centric, Twilight-centric. (Commentary from Warriors: “Wait, doom?! Oh, there's Sky”)

Editor's note: congratulations to @somer-writes who singlehandedly got June of Doom in the top 10 tags of June. :)

July: Warriors. Hyrule & Legend, Time & Twilight. Hurt/Comfort. Twilight-centric. (Commentary from Legend: “leave some for the rest of us”)

August: Legend. Hyrule & Legend, Legend & Warriors, Time & Twilight. Hurt/Comfort. Crack, Fluff and Angst. (Commentary from Warriors: “I'm concerned.”)

September: Legend. Time & Twilight, Twilight & Wild. Hurt/Comfort. Sicktember 2024, Legend Has a Bad Time. (Commentary from Legend: “Excuse me?!” Warriors says: “I suppose your immune system is awful now.” Legend responds with: “ha ha.”)

October: Warriors. Time & Twilight, Time & Warriors. Hurt/Comfort. Whumptober 2024, Warriors Has a Bad Time. (Commentary from Warriors: “oh no…” To which Legend responds: “HAHAHAHAH”) 

November: Warriors. Time & Warriors, Hyrule & Legend. Fluff. Crack, Good Older Sibling Warriors.

December: Legend. Hyrule & Legend, Twilight & Wild, Warriors & Wind. Hurt/Comfort. Families of Choice. 

Parchment at the bottom has Warriors saying, “That's a nice note to end on.” Legend responds, “Not so bad I guess.” 

Thanks for coming along with me on this fun stats journey! It's been a privilege to add to this fandom. 

I thought about adding a section for ratings or prevalence of Gen fics, but I think you can guess that we’re a Gen- and Teen-heavy fandom. You can see my raw data and some more charts over on the Google sheet right at this link. Ha, link. :) 

[roseyodditea]

Sneak a Quick Kiss - Harumasa x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1.6k words. Established relationship. 2 moments where Harumasa remembers you have to hide your relationship, and 1 when he decides he's had enough.

Warnings -> A 'lil suggestive in the middle (marked and optional)

A/N -> I'll be honest, I didn't expect to like writing as much as I do and I've been getting more support than I ever thought I would. Thank you :)

Image taken from ZZZ Wiki

— Close Call #1 —

You looked out of the window into the H.A.N.D Headquarters Plaza, watching people walk leisurely. You were in an empty meeting room, one of the many shoved in a forgotten corner of the large office building. This meeting room was often forgotten about, which just made it perfect for your purpose. The purpose that Asaba Harumasa was currently late to. You sat down on one of the chairs, spreading the folder of paperwork, figuring you might as well do work instead of letting the folder be just a quick excuse to anyone curious of the meeting between you and Harumasa. 

You were analyzing a document heavy with black bars of redaction, holding up the paper to the light to read the name of the hollow that was hidden under the dark ink, Melinoe. You bite back a small giggle, realizing that Harumasa definitely shouldn’t have told you about it on your last secret date night. You continue on your data analysis work, still waiting for the very late man. You two had started this little routine over a month ago, a weekly (sometimes happening even two to four times a week) recurring meeting disguised as a debriefing of Section 6’s hollow data. The meeting's true purpose was known to no one, and you hoped to keep it that way.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door closing, familiar arms draping over your shoulder, quick playful kisses being pepper across your cheeks. “Hey, darling~” Harumasa placed one more exaggerated kiss on your cheek before hiding his face in your hair. 

“You’re late.” You chide lightly, leaning back in the chair.

Harumasa huffed and let go of you, moving to instead sit on the table in the room, shoving aside some of the work you were doing. “Yanagi caused a meeting to run late despite both me and Miyabi wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.”

You stood up, moving to stand in front of him, a familiar hug playing out as you leaned your head on his shoulder, his arms resting securely on your lower back. “You’re still late. You’ll pay for that.”

“Will I now?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his hands sliding down your sides before he hoists you up on the table with him, your thighs straddling his lap. “What’s your price?”

“You have to host a dinner and movie night at your place, meaning you have to clean your apartment.” You giggle, leaning in a bit.

“Highway robbery, absolutely unfair price, what has the world come to?” He mutters back playfully before sealing your lips in a kiss. It was slow and patient, one of his hands cupping your cheek sweetly, the other on your lower back, keeping you close in his safe grasp. 

The sound of footsteps causes the kiss to break unceremoniously, you crawling off his lap immediately, moving quickly to sit in front of the papers you had set out, Harumasa scrambling to snatch up one of the papers to look busy as the door swung open, a janitor looking up surprised to see people in this forgotten about meeting room. 

“Oh sorry, are we in the way?”

— Close Call #2 —

(A/N) -> Make out scene contained betwixt the asterisks, feel free to skip if that's not your thing. Mwah mwah kissing, you get it.

***********************

Adrenaline pumped through Harumasa’s veins after a successful investigation in Melinoe, another large target successfully taken down. In this hyped up state, a lot of Harumasa’s rational thoughts when it came to you flew right out of the window, which was why you were currently pushed up against the wall of the parking garage outside of the H.A.N.D headquarters. You didn’t even care that the rough bricks of the wall were clinging to your clothes and your hair, how could you care when there were feverish touches and kisses being scattered across your body. 

Half gloved hands sliding up under the bottom of your shirt, tracing over your skin, desperately lips begging for more, wanting to celebrate this win with you. You haphazardly shoved off his bow and quiver, the sound of them clattering to the pavement beneath your feet not even reaching your ears, one of your hands moving to his tie, pulling and trying to loosen it in the heat of a moment. Harumasa didn't even care his beloved weapon was on the ground, instead moving to press his body even close, one his thighs moving between yours, wanting to be impossibly closer.

***********************

The sound of an “Enh-na!” caused the two of you to pull away from each other harshly with a pant, Harumasa looking down at the source of the sound. 

Agent Gulliver stared blankly, just holding up paperwork to you, the data analyst. His round eyes were unblinking, seemingly unaware of the situation he had just stumbled into. You and Harumasa were quiet for a few seconds before you reached out. “Uh… thank you, Agent Gulliver.” The bangboo saluted as you took it and walked off. 

Harumasa blinked a couple times. “He… He won’t tell anyone, right? Bangboo’s don’t gossip, do they?” You sighed, straightening up his tie before pushing him a bit off of you. “I’ll go pull his memory card. It’s standard for my reports. I’ll just… crop the video.” “Yeah thanks.” Harumasa scratched the back of his head. “We’ve got to be more careful.”

— Close Call #3 —

— Secret is Out —

You had told Harumasa not to push himself too hard, and what does he do? Run head first into battle without calling for backup, of course. He had it handled, but he was paying the consequences today, and of course you were sweet enough to give him company while he was holed up, miserable in his apartment. You swiped through the files on the tablet, a sleeping Harumasa laying in the bed next to you, his arm draped over your lap, holding you securely even in his sleep. An alarm buzzed and without looking up from the tablet, you shook Harumasa awake.

“Huh?” The tired man sat up, wiping the drool off of the corner of his mouth, smiling a bit when he saw you were in his bed.

“Second dose of medicine.” You replied without looking up, handing him one of the bottles. He opened it and placed one of the pills in his mouth, reaching across you to take your water and taking a couple big gulps. “Rude.” You scoff, finally looking up from your tablet.

He placed the cup back on the nightstand before grabbing the tablet, taking it from you and also placing it on the nightstand. “Your poor, sick boyfriend is suffering cold and alone in bed and you’re more focused on work?” He pouts as he pulls you to lay down with him, rather than sitting up.

“You’re only sick because you knowingly pushed your limits!” Your words had no real bite as you did, in fact, lay down with him.

“Your words wound me.” Harumasa cuddles close to you, his wheezing breath right next to your ear, but you didn’t mind, especially with the way one of his hands played with the hair at the base of your neck. “You know you don’t have to be here, right?” You let out a noise, not wanting to repeat this conversation yet again. “I love you, I want to be here, I’m not going anywhere.” You list quickly, and Harumasa didn't argue back, kissing your forehead. “I love you, too.” He whispered softly, his voice slightly hoarse. “And I love that you’re here.” The tender moment was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Oooh that’s probably our takeout.” You reluctantly get up out of his bed with a promise that you’d be right back. You opened the door holding the tip money, only to come face to face with quite possibly the worst person to see right now. “Yanagi?” You were going to ask something else, but your brain chugged when faced with this rather awkward situation.

“(y/n)?” Yanagi was honestly just as confused. “I didn’t know you and Harumasa were close.” Your silence was bordering on suspicious when you let out a polite, professional chuckle, very thankful you hadn’t changed into your pajamas yet and could still kind of pass this off as work. “I work very closely with Harumasa for my reports. A lot of the hollow data can be weird to work out so I often talk to him since he’s a really good scout. I just stopped by to grab some paperwork for him and I ended up helping him with a few things since he’s not feeling well today.” You lie through your teeth, but luckily Yanagi didn’t really seem to question it… or if she did she certainly didn’t let it be known.

“Ah, well I just wanted to drop off another set of folders for him to review. Soukaku tried to do his paperwork for him and I tried to read his handwriting through the scribbles and I wanted to double check it was accurate before I handed it in to you.” Yanagi offered politely.  

Harumasa, who you didn’t realize got out of bed, stood next to you, looking between you and Yanagi. He was tired, in pain, and frankly tired of hiding this relationship. It was his idea originally to keep the fans at bay, keep him out of hot water with the press, and make sure there wasn’t anything to report to HR, but seeing you try to cover up comforting your sick boyfriend with work? Absolutely not. He wrapped his arms around you from behind before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, your body freezing as Harumasa looked at Yanagi from his hiding spot in your neck.

“Sorry, I’m off today!” He closed the door before dragging you back to bed with him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

psssst I do, in fact, take requests. Okay thank you for reading <3

[caniball1sticdes1re]

hello, you

pairings . joe goldberg x fem!reader

warnings . stalking, mentions of breaking and entering, mutual masturbation (kind of), joe being a creep, reader being a creep

a/n . can’t let gang know i fw joe goldberg

hello, you.

see, the thing about you is that you think you hide things well. you think you pass as innocent. you almost had me fooled, i’ll give you that, but you forget one little detail. there is nothing, and i mean nothing, my dear, that you could hide from me. you’re looking through the children’s section, looking for a new book to read to your class, but i know you. i know what disgusting, vile things you want- no, need me to do to you. if Paco wasn’t upstairs and your little ex-fling wasn’t downstairs, i’d bend you over this coun-

“hey, joe.. just this please” she sets the children’s book on the counter, along with an erotica. she picks up a lollipop from the bowl next to joe, unwrapping it and throwing it in the small trash next to her. an erotica? when the hell did you pick this up, quick little thing. and you grabbed a lollipop? god, if you wanted me that bad, you could’ve just said something! poor, needy girl.

joe slides both books to his side, a small smirk on his face. “interesting choices.. this for the kids?” he picks up the children’s book, ringing it up before he scans the erotica. she nods, a small hum accompanied by her smile. “yeah! we finished the other one you suggested… it was really good.”

joe shoots her a smile, one that quickly fell when he’d finished reading the back of the other book. stockholm syndrome, huh? you really are starved. he sticks her receipt in the book cover before handing both of them back. his eyes linger on her lips wrapped around the lollipop as she takes it out of her mouth, her lips tinted red and wet.

“thanks joe, have a good day” he smiles, nodding. fuck, i cannot get enough of you.

hello, you

something i like about you is your lack of social awareness, how you forget to close your blinds before digging into that erotica. dumb thing, you want me to see you, don’t you? why else do you keep that one specific window open, your legs spread perfectly in my view so i can watch your hand move like your life depends on it?

the book is discarded by now, and soon enough she decides her hand isn’t quite enough to get her off. joe watches as she picks up two of her pillows, stuffing them under her wetness, whining as she grinds down on it. joe’s hand slips down his pants, his mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape. he pulls himself out, his hand running up and down his length as he stares at you, whimpering with every bump against the pillow. what he fails to see is that she’s wearing his shirt, one he’d lost days ago while he was out, taking care of the only thing that stood between him and his true love. fuck, you dirty thing, seems like i have my own little stalker on my hands.

joe’s hand picks up the pace, sighing and groaning out into his bedroom as images of him being the one she’s riding clouds his mind. he watches as her thrusts get sloppier, her grip getting harder on the pillows. that’s it sweet girl, cum for me honey.

and she does, throwing her head back as she slips her hand back down to her pussy to slide across her clit. her cum seeps out of her and drips down onto the pillow and at the same time, joe’s cum shoots out and drips over his hand, a declaration of her name leaving his lips as he does.

his vision goes blurry for a second, looking down at the mess he’d made. once he’d looked back up however, he watches as you lock eyes with him, smile, then close your blinds. well, shit.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Plot Method

The Save the Cat! Beat Sheet was originally developed by Blake Snyder to help screenwriters plot movies, but it works just as well with novels.

It breaks down the 3-act structure into small, specific sections (sometimes just one scene long).

Each section pushes your story forward in its own way.

The exact word count/page count of each section depends on how long your novel is and what type of story you’re telling, but you can use the colored chart below and the percentages in the instructions as a guide. 

Context Note: This method is based on the concept of the Three Act Structure, which is an inherently Western approach to plot. It can be a useful way to tell a story, but it is by no means the only one.

ACT 1

Opening Image (0-1%)

Show a “before” snapshot of your protagonist and their world.

What is life like before the adventure begins?

It represents the struggle & tone of the story.

Set-up (1-10%)

Expand on the “before” snapshot.

Explore your protagonist’s life, including the internal flaws and external challenges they’ll have to overcome in order to change for the better by the end of the story.

Present the main character’s world as it is, and what is missing in their life.

Also introduce important supporting characters.

Theme Stated (happens during the Set-up)

What your story is about; the message, the truth.

Usually, it is spoken to the main character or in their presence, but they don’t understand the truth/lesson…not until later, when they have some personal experience and context to support it.

Thus, include a scene where a character says something that hints at what the protagonist’s big life lesson will be - how they’ll have to change and grow by the end of the story.

Catalyst (10%)

The moment where life as it is changes.

Examples: It is the telegram, the act of catching your loved-one cheating, allowing a monster onboard the ship, meeting the true love of your life, etc.

There’s no going back to the “before” world from here… What is the inciting incident that pushes the protagonist into the next phase of the story?

Debate (11-20%)

But change is scary and for a moment, or a brief number of moments, the main character doubts the journey they must take.

Show the protagonist questioning themselves and resisting the path ahead - wondering whether they have what it takes, or whether or they should just run home and hide under the bed.

“Should I just…?” “I really shouldn’t because…” “But what about…” Can I face this challenge? Do I have what it takes? Should I go at all?

It is the last chance for the hero to chicken out.

ACT 2

Break Into 2 (20%; Choosing Act Two)

The main character makes a choice and the journey begins.

We leave the “Thesis” world and enter the upside-down, opposite world of Act 2.

They make the choice to begin their adventure/transformation/journey/new thing.

Show your protagonist deciding to plunge into Act 2.

The Promise of the Premise (21-50%)

This is when the reader thinks “Ah, now we’re getting to the good stuff they hinted at on the back cover of this book!”

It’s also one of the longest sections in your book.

Show your protagonist getting used to their new world - loving it, hating it, making mistakes or doing well, meeting new people (see more below) and keeping the reader entertained.

This is when the main character explores the new world and the audience is entertained by the premise they have been promised.

B Story (happens during The Promise of the Premise)

This is when there’s a discussion about the Theme – the nugget of truth.

Usually, this discussion is between the main character and the love interest.

So, the B Story is usually called the “love story”.

Introduce a new character or characters who will eventually help the protagonist learn their life lesson.

Friends? Mentors? Love interests? Nemeses (nemesi?)? Who are they? How will they help?

Midpoint (50%)

This moment is when everything seems “great” or everything seems “awful,” depending on your story.

The main character either gets everything they think they want (“great”) or doesn’t get what they think they want at all (“awful”).

Either the Fun and Games section has lead to a false victory for your protagonist (they think they’ve been doing great so far) or a false defeat (they’ve been having a hard time so far).

What happens in this moment, halfway between beginning and end?

But not everything we think we want is what we actually need in the end.

Bad Guys Close In (51-75%)

Get ready for a bumpy ride. If your Midpoint was a false victory, now things start to go wrong for your protagonist.

If the Midpoint was a false defeat, well, things seem to be looking up, but the bad guys are getting closer and will have something to say.

Note: Bad guys can be actual physical enemies, but they can also be emotional enemies, like doubt or jealousy or fear.

Doubt, jealousy, fear, foes both physical and emotional regroup to defeat the main character’s goal, and the main character’s “great”/“awful” situation disintegrates.

Show the protagonist’s newly-built world beginning to unravel.

This will also be one of the longer sections in your novel.

All is Lost (75%)

This is when something happens to make your character hit rock bottom.

It’s the absolute lowest part of your novel.

Maybe someone or something dies (either literally or figuratively).

The initial goal now looks even more impossible than before. And here, something or someone dies.

It can be physical or emotional, but the death of something old makes way for something new to be born.

What does this moment look like for your protagonist?

Dark Night of the Soul (76-80%)

Your protagonist now has time to react to their “All is lost” moment, to mourn what they lost and wallow in hopelessness.

They’re worse off than they were at the beginning of the novel.

Show how low things have gotten.

Mourning the loss of what has “died” – the dream, the goal, the mentor character, the love of your life, etc.

But, you must fall completely before you can pick yourself back up and try again.

ACT 3

Break Into 3 (80%; Choosing Act Three)

The “aha!” moment; the “lift yourself up and try again” moment.

Show the protagonist realizing what they need to do in order to tackle their problems, both external and internal.

Thanks to a fresh idea, new inspiration, or last-minute Thematic advice from the B Story (usually the love interest), the main character chooses to try again.

Finale (81-99%)

The protagonist does what they decided to do in the Break Intro 3 beat, and (because of all the learning/growing they’ve done and the support or insight from the B Story), their plan works.

This time around, the main character incorporates the Theme – the nugget of truth that now makes sense to them – into their fight for the goal because they have experience from the A Story and context from the B Story.

The Bad Guys are defeated, the world is changed for the better.

What are the battles? How will the protagonist triumph (or not)?

This is another longer section, so you’ve got the space to make things dramatic and intense.

Act Three is about Synthesis.

Final Image (99-100%)

This is the opposite of the Opening Image, the “after” snapshot instead of the “before.”

Show the reader how the protagonist and their world have changed.

THE END

Sources: 1 2 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[simp-ly-writes]

What Would You Do?

─────── · · A The Comment Section (spin-off / pt.4.5)

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: In this standalone part, everyone finds out how Spencer seems to know you better than you know yourself and the comments go wild over it. It's still recommended that you read the series for the full effect.

─ · · TAGS: standalone, gender-neutral pronouns, social media au, attempt at comedy, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART ONE | PART FIVE

─ · · A/N: thank you so much to the wonderful @sserendiipiity for this idea and sorry it took so long to write this! All original images belong to their owners, my work is my own. Asks are open for Smosh!

─────── · ·

Being in front of such a small crew was refreshing besides the hundreds of workers you were starting to get used to for your up-and-coming movie entrance. Still to this day, you didn't know how you landed such a part with all of your acting history coming from youtube but nevertheless as Courtney called you all to take your positions; a newfound anxiety found its way into your mind. This episode was solemnly focused on you and how well your fellow cast members and friends knew you.

Soon the heat of a thousand LEDs made you start to sweat as you smiled at the camera and introduced this weeks episode, "Hey guys, welcome to what would (name) do. And here today I am with my friends Trevor, Amanda, and of course, Spencer. Yes, we have been reading your comments everyone-"

The crew in the background began to laugh as Spencer shook his head with a small smile, foot taping yours from underneath the table as you waited for everyone to finish. "-and Spencer and I will be going back to our regularly scheduled content together. But thats besides the point! I am going to be reading these question cards that I totally wrote and your goal is to guess my answer. So if I said, 'Who do you think if the last person I messaged?" You all would answer..."

Putting the cards down quickly and going for your phone, you rolled your eyes at yourself for seeing who, as always was at the top of your history. Head now in your hands- knowing how quickly the fans would clip this next moment. Courtney began to count down behind the camera, voice trying to hide her giggles as everyone knew the answer right away.

Picking yourself up and trying not to make eye contact with anyone at the table, Courtney didn't even get a chance to hit one as both Trevor and Amanda have already flipped over their boards, arrowheads pointing towards Spencer with large grins strapped across their faces.

"And why do you think its you Spencer" you ask, not even having to look to look as you stare into the camera with a straight face. "Because we are each others conscious?" Spencer answers matter-of-factly, the smile he sends you breaks your character as you announce one point each before moving on to the next question.

"Okay, If I could learn any skill and be super good at it, what would it be?" You take a second after reading the card, unsure of your own answer as you look around the room for any ideas. Peering down the table, everyone seems to be writing a lot as you tap your marker lid against the table. Courtney begins to count down once more as Trevor rapidly erases his answer and writes down a new one as you raise your brow curiously before marking down your own.

"Let's see these answers, because I am unsure myself."

Trevor goes first out of the line, "I had a few ideas but I think I remember talking to you about being a better driver... that or being a quicker reader."

"I completely forgot about that- I would agree, being able to read and remember scripts super quickly would be awesome. Let's see what everyone else wrote down though, Spencer?"

"Well I said that you want to learn everything about music. I know that you always have wanted for some groups to make one more album or for others to pick up their sound. But what if you could make your own music just how you want it to sound?"

"Fuuucckkk, thats so good!" you moan out, trying to imagine everything you could make before your eyes flash back open in horror. You clasp your hands over your mouth before throwing your head back laughing as Spencer shoves your shoulder, "Not in front of the cameras!" He points dramatically at every single one as you grip his shoulder trying to calm yourself as he two joins your laughter.

Amanda had erased her answer by the time you two caught your breaths as Courtney asked off-camera why. "This game is what you kids would say, rigged. Like what am I going to say thats topping thing one and thing two here? But I was going to say skateboarding," Amanda responds in a lighthearted tone.

"Skateboarding?" Trevor asks, eyebrow raised as you nod your head, curious to learn the answer. "I don't know! I just thought it would be something cool that you would like to be really skilled at."

"I mean... it would be pretty cool. I could be all Tony Hawk Skate Park all around the office," you voice, picturing a future video idea before giving points out to Spencer.

─────── · ·

The video continues as expected, your fellow cast mates mocking annoyance and play-fighting amongst one another as Spencer nails question after question, often answering better than the answers you come up with for yourself about yourself.

At some point, Amanda and Trevor had tackled Spencer to the ground, begging him for answers as he held his hands, glasses askew as you sat and watched from your chair, tears stringing down your face as you hunched over, your stomach hurting from laughing so much as Courtney yelled for break, you all taking your fourty minutes to grab drinks and snacks at the cart.

"You do know how crazy the comments are going to be underneath the video, "OMG I ALWAYS KNEW SPENCER AND (NAME) WERE MARRIED'" Amanda mocks in an obnoxious girly tone as you shake your head, knowing her words to be all true true as Spencer leans down and steals a bite from for sandwich. You glare playfully at him as he turns around chewing, going to find Alex to ask how the other shoots are going back at Smosh Games.

"Well, its better than the hate. I thought I was actually going to get fired or killed if we didn't release that video soon enough," you respond a bit tensely as Trevor flicked your forehead. "Hey, none of that, (name). We all would've made sure it never came down to that."

Amanda nods in agreement as Spencer rejoins you both. He places his chin on your shoulder, asking you quietly, "How're you doing?"

"Better," you respond with a small smile, taking in his equally tired expression as you ask him the same question. He hums out positively before leading you both back in front of the camera.

As soon the red dot starts to flicker in your face once more and before you can finish the question, Amanda had already stood up, chair screeching against the floors as the table shook from her enthusiasm as she screamed out her answer. "Describe what you think I would wear tomorrow-"

"SOMETHING OF SPENCERS AND JEANS, where are my points?! Take THAT SPENCER!" Amanda dances for the camera, fingers flipping the man off as you hide behind the board, giving her the point as no one else bothers to answer.

─────── · ·

"And for our second to last question today..." you all were starting to grow loopy. After a full day of shoot after shoot, you all started screaming out random things at one another, sometimes without context and the outline of a gameshow had gradually turned into a shouting fest. "...Fuck, Marry, Kill-"

"SPENCER, SPENCER, SPENCER," Alex shouted from off-camera, chest raised proud of his throw-back answer to an earlier episode as Amanda wheezed out, Trevor throwing his board for the bit, "that was going to be my answer too!"

Spencer's ears had flared bright red as he started off into the distance. You hide your face in your hands once more, shoulders rising and falling with silent laughs before managing to read the rest of the actual question left.

─────── · ·

By the end of the shoot, Spencer had one as he raised your hands together cheering before taking a bow to the crew and then the camera. "Well, to no one's surprise, Spencer won todays episode but I have to say, you all surprised me with your answers. It feels so good to know I have all of you as my friends. And to all of those watching at home, be sure to check back in the next few days to find the new content we have cooking up. Bye!" You all wave towards the camera's before the screen shuts of to black.

─────── · ·

A few weeks later...

🔔 Smosh Pit just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

What Would (name) Do?

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 132k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 430k views 1 day ago you'll never guess who wins this episode! click to read more

3,333 Comments

username01 1 day ago The team was COOKING on this video. username11 1 day ago Well, this is one way to shut us all up and goddam it I'll take it all! username44 1 day ago Anyone else had to pause this video multiple times to look at the camera in their room and scream BC this was TOO much for little ol'me to handle. username13 12 hours ago "You'll never guess who wins," - yeah right. ▼ 50 replies ↳ username88 4 hours ago IKR? The bigger shock would have been if Spencer was banned from participating hahaha. ↳ username20 12 hours ago Kinda feel like he should've been. I mean the cast was taking it great but it must get kinda annoying how he knows every answer. Some even seemed like (name) didn't even know themselves! ↳ username54 30 minutes ago This is concrete evidence to the (yourshipname) case, these two idiots belong together. username73 12 hours ago I am salivating over all of the edits I know will come from this video. Where is @ (yourshipname)updates when you need them? ▼ 1 reply ↳ (yourshipname)updates ✓ 10 hours ago I am here and am happily overworked! We are eating good folks! username52 30 minutes ago Trevor and Amanda pinning Spencer to the ground with (name) cry-laughing in the background was not a meme format I thought I needed. I can't wait for the next Who Meme'd It!! username14 1 day ago "Spencer, Spencer, Spencer" - Alex Tran 2024 username02 just now I honestly thought they would all be quicker to name Spencer as (name)'s lest message. Like whenever they are not actively filming I swear I see them smiling at their phones in the background of videos. username05 23 hours ago (name) and Spencer: try not to fall in love. difficulty? impossible. username66 15 minutes ago Amanda calling the game "rigged" was so good. BC let's all be real here, this was fan service at its finest and i'm not even upset about it. username70 1 day ago The fact that they kept (name)'s: "Fuuucckkk, thats so good!" in is shocking to say the least. These edits about to be straight WILD. username23 14 hours ago There's literally to much to comment about, I am going insane. username80 1 hour ago "SOMETHING OF SPENCERS AND JEANS, where are my points?! Take THAT SPENCER!" Amanda has confirmed what we all believe people, let us all thank her in the comments below \/ ▼ 44 replies ↳ username54 30 minutes ago Yes, thank you dear Amanda!! ↳ username90 30 minutes ago I love confirmation bias. ↳ username54 just now I love how Spencer wasn't even mad. Like bro was damn smug about that fact while (name) was blushing so hard thinking none of us would ever catch on XD

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: I am kinda obsessing over (name) and Spencer...

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios

[togglesbloggle]

It's interesting to me how much people struggle to intuit differences of scale. Like, years of geology training thinking about very large subjects, and I'm only barely managing it around the edges.

The classic one is, of course, the mantle- everybody has this image of the mantle as a sort of molten magma lake that the Earth's crust is floating on. Which is a pedagogically useful thing! Because the intuitions about how liquids work- forming internal currents, hot sections rising, cool sections sinking, all that- are all dynamics native to the Earth's mantle. We mostly talk about the mantle in the context of those currents, and how they drive things like continental drift, and so we tend to have this metaphor in mind of the mantle as a big magma lake.

The catch, of course, is that the mantle is a solid, not magma. It's just that at very large scales, the distinction between solids and liquids is... squirrely.

When cornered on this, a geologist will tell you that the mantle is 'ductile'. But that's a lie of omission. Because it's not that the mantle is a metal like gold or iron, what we usually think of when we talk about ductility. You couldn't hammer mantle-matter in to horseshoes or nails on an anvil. It's just a rock, really. Peridotite. Chemically it's got a lot of metal atoms in it, which helps, but if you whack a chunk of it with a hammer you can expect about the same thing to happen as if you whacked a chunk of concrete. Really, it's just that any and every rock is made of tons and tons of microcrystal structures all bound together, and the boundaries between these microcrystals can shift under enormous pressure on very slow timescales; when the scope of your question gets big enough, those bonds become weak in a relative sense, and it becomes more useful to think of a rock as more like a pile of gravel where the pebbles can shift and flow around one another.

The blunt fact is, on very large scales of space and of time, almost everything other than perfect crystals start to act kind of like a liquid- and a lot of those do as well. When I made a study of very old Martian craters, I got used to 'eyeballing' the age based on how much the crater had subsided, almost exactly like the ways that ripples in the surface of water gradually subside over time when you throw a rock in to a lake. Just, you know. Slower.

But at the same time, these things are more fragile than you'd believe, and can shatter like glass. The surface of the Earth is like this, too. Absent the kind of overpressures that make the mantle flow like it does, Earth's crust is still tremendously weak relative to many of the planet-scale forces to which it is subject- I was surprised, once, when a professor offhandedly described the crust as having a tensile strength of 'basically zero;' they really thought of the surface as a delicate filigreed bubble of glass that formed like a thin shell, almost too thin to mention, on the outside of a water droplet. On human scales, liquid is the thing that flows, and solid is the thing that breaks. But once stuff gets big or slow or both, the distinction between a solid and a liquid is more that a liquid is the thing that doesn't shatter when it flows. And it all gets really, really vague, which I suppose you'd expect when you get this far outside the contexts in which our languages were crafted.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. [𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝟏𝟖+, 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱. 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 [𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠], 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚+ 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

You weren’t sure when you started to feel this way.

It ate at you—the sensation. Nipping at the bits of yourself that were far too obvious in a mirror. They rushed through you like you were a lamb for slaughter. It was often you wondered if all of those creatures you sought could feel it too, this vulnerability underneath a tough skin.

And you could see it too. In the mirror, passing a reflecting door or window, in the sunglasses of a friend. Every time your image reflected back to you, a wave of self-doubt washed over you.

It was debilitating and something you never voiced aloud. The thoughts simply ate away at you as the days passed on and the world unraveled with it.

Little help came when your daily return to safety came in the form of a mismatched bunker. In it, the glamorous common sections provided a bit of beauty while the corridors were bland and the rooms much more so. There was nothing there to make you feel pretty—let alone beautiful in such an ugly world.

When the bunker was quiet, those thoughts came alive.

Everyone had gone off for the day. It was one of those strange, sitting duck kind of days where there wasn’t a story to chase or evil lurking around the corner to seize a moment. It was quiet, content with whatever lull had formed for the time being. You were alone in your room flipping through an old book on werewolves that was quickly losing your interest.

For once, you just wanted a break to be normal. To feel normal and be normal without a fear of cosmic retribution for wanting to be someone other than what you had become. This… monster-hunting sidekick chick who feels a bit down and out about the cards life dealt her.

Dean and Sam weren’t on the same wavelength as you, you had imagined. They played off their content with this life as perfectly as anyone could.

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts abruptly. It startled you. Shaking a little jump from your skin, you approached the door with caution as your knowledge had led you to believe you were alone.

But as you cracked open the door, it was painfully obvious you weren’t.

“Dean?”

He gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I thought you’d be—“

“I told Sam to go on his own,” he clarified. Sam went down to Wichita early that morning and with the roar of Baby, you had assumed Dean had tagged along.

“Oh.”

There was something more stirring in the air around your room. The internal self-loathing was misting and Dean’s presence was billowing. For you, all it took was one glance into his green eyes to fall into an abyss of him. Dean Winchester had girls falling to their knees, praying for a miracle that he’d notice them and fall in love with them and end up with them forever.

He never did but it was too notable to ignore.

He made your heart thump louder. The blood stirring the cauldron of doom inside, building a pool of sweat in your palms and your pupils to grow wider. He was a beautiful man—it was almost embarrassing to think that he’d pay more attention to you than he did.

And there was a scorned inside for the scattered moments he did make you feel something more.

It was on days like this: when everyone was gone and fate had found you alone together when something clicked into place, drawing you together like moths to a flame and touch was a burning relief.

Having sex with Dean was an action that lit up the pitting feelings of doubt.

Every time your shirt came off—hideous.

Every time your pants came undone—ugly.

Every time he gave himself—unworthy.

And every time you let go—pathetic.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth and gnawed at it. Dean leaned against the frame but didn’t push. He never did.

“Why didn’t you go?”

He shrugged his shoulders. In his own bashful way, he looked down at his shoes.

“Didn’t want to, I guess,” he said. “Got better things to do than go see a city I’ve seen a hundred times before.”

There was more to do there. There were more girls there to choose from.

“Well it’s not anymore exciting here,” your eyes gave an unfortunate admission. “Just me.”

“You’re plenty exciting,” Dean lifted his head with a scoff. “I figured if you stayed behind then at least it be worth staying behind for.”

When he said phrases like that, it was so casual. It made you roll your eyes in a shallow disbelief he was flagrant with saying your worth anything. Wichita had more than you could ever offer.

You rested the side of your body on the door and clung to the doorknob on the other side tightly.

“I’m afraid you might be wrong on that one.”

Dean’s eyes flinched in curiosity. They searched your face unabashedly for answers it was unwilling to give.

“Why?” He asked. “We never get any time to ourselves. It’s… nice for a change, yeah?”

“Sure,” you agreed. “I just don’t think I’m worth staying behind for.”

He let out a laugh. No smile, just an amused laugh at the suggestion. You weren’t sure if you should feel miffed or reassured.

“Spend five hours in the car with Sam on a Saturday or spend the day with you? I’d much rather be here.”

His honesty was endearing. It was far different from the man you met so many years ago. He had grown comfortable, willing, in that time and if you thought hard on it, it was generally only around you.

For Dean, being vulnerable was cracking his soul open. It was as debilitating as your inability to see yourself as valuable was. But he was comfortable here, alone, and he was content in letting it bleed from every part of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Is there a plan I am unaware of?”

Your day was to be spent flipping through books and taking notes of what resolutions could help you all the most.

Dean shrugged again and kicked his foot out slightly. You knew what he wanted, hell, you wanted it too but you couldn’t feel that inside of you.

“I don’t know,” he played. “That’s really up to you.”

Ball, court.

“There’s no one here,” Dean reassured you. You could be loud. You could do what you wanted. You could take your time.

“I know,” you nodded your head. You twisted the knob on the other side of the door.

“We don’t have to,” he backed up with words. The last thing Dean wanted you to feel for him is resentment for propositioning you. “It’s alright. I can… I can,” he cleared his throat, “take care of myself.”

“No,” you said quicker than you meant to. “No.”

“No?”

“You don’t have to take care of it, Dean.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded at him as the tone shifted. In your hearts, the beating anticipating was in your throats. You could feel it in the jittering movement of your fingers and toes and the insatiable appetite that manifested inside.

The door you were holding on to opened slightly to gain him entry. He took the signal, brushing past you and not feeling cautious when his hand came to rest on your side as he pushed by.

It dawned on you as he entered that you’d never had sex in your room. It was always Dean’s and the one, singular occasion he caught you in the library on a day like this one and ate you out between the bookshelves.

You shut the door behind you as he stepped into the room and took it in differently than before. He’s been in it, sure, but when the circumstances change, everything changes too.

“You remodel?” He joked, pointing around the room that looked identical to all the others. “Looks nice.”

“Thanks,” you smiled. Leaning against the door, you folded your hands behind your back. “It was a real task, you know? All the painting and laying the wood.”

He nodded with a hum. He patrolled the space before shrugging off his flannel that rested atop a t-shirt.

You weren’t sure what he wanted exactly but you were hesitant to approach him.

Sitting, facing your bed from its place on the floor was a mirror. And you’d be fucking damned if you watched yourself fuck Dean Winchester through your reflection.

It might be the death of you.

And you didn’t want to curse Dean with that memory.

He kicked off his shoes without instruction. Pieces of himself began to unshed before you. First the shirt, then the shoes. His hands went to his belt, flicking it open and unraveling itself in swift motions that your own hands had learned to do before.

Dean didn’t look at you, he didn’t ask you to join him.

His hands went to the bottom of his shirt and as he lifted it up and over his head, you weren’t shameful to ogle him. That was why he was here—for you to feel him, touch him, worship him in ways he wouldn’t get elsewhere.

There were plenty of other girls in Wichita.

He tossed his shirt to join the flannel before looking at you. Dean held out his hand to you, beckoning you.

“Come here,” he said softly. It could have been enough for you at one time, but it wasn’t today.

You shook your head.

“You come to me.”

If you knew Dean correctly, he would, and he did.

Even in your doubts, having Dean near you was comfort. His eyes drank you in. Completely encapsulated by you and only you and he felt free in that space. He was giving and grateful.

So, he stood toe to toe with you. One of his hands creeped up your slides and slotted into the space where your hands created an opening to the back of you. He silently begged for you to untangle your hands, taking one of them in his own as he allowed the position to draw himself closer.

He held on to you in two ways: against you, pressing you into the door as his nose knocked your own, and his and your intertwined hands pressing into your back. You used your free one to cup his face. You hummed in agreement. Dean tilted his head, breathing in deeply as the skin of your face grazed his own. He could play a long time. The hand you let linger on his cheek brushed along the sides of his neck, folding itself around his back and gripping onto his opposite shoulder. His skin was hot to the touch. Dean let his fingers detached from yours and he cupped at your ass to pull you closer. There was nowhere closer than him. Flush against his body, feeling everything but the blood rushing through him and he soaked in the staggered breaths of anticipation.

You tipped your head away from his to look in his eyes.

His short stubble was tough under your palm. Nothing, however, could detract you from the way his eyes bore into you. He had lovely lashes, fluttering and romantic compared to his outward appearance of “tough man.” They complimented the way his eyes changed from welcome to conversation to lust.

Maybe it wasn’t love, but it was enough for now.

“How’s this gonna work?” You asked him, breath fanning his face.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he mumbled. Eyes hooded, trapped on your lips as they wet themselves. “But we’ve got time. We can go slow.

You nodded like he read your mind. Slow, steady, different from other times.

“I don’t need slow,” you murmured. He gripped your ass harder than before, pushing you against him before letting go and running his hand smoothly over the rump.

“But I’ve got too many clothes on.”

“You’re damn right about that, sweetheart.”

Dean needs no true instructions.

Even in your wallowing pitiful despair of self-destruction, as long as you truly couldn’t see yourself everything would be fine. It would be fine. Dean’s hands roamed your body freely with the invitation. Hands large and free, they begged to grip and squeeze what they could but settled on unraveling the fruits of the goal. With every piece of clothes that came undone and piled themselves onto the floor at your feet, you spied Dean’s eyes grow shades of green. Each deeper than before—tantalizing from opportunity and wolfish in a hunt.

His hands met the tops of your bottoms, trading the top of it with his fingers as they grazed the skin of your stomach. You laid your head back against the door, admiring the way he had the smallest sign of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. Something glimmered, something gleamed in his eyes when he looked back. Dean leaned in, planting a light kiss on the edge of your lip but not on them before falling to his knees.

Clad yet in his beltless jeans, Dean ran his hands over the curve of your waist and down your legs. The agony of time made your heart thump. Thump, thump, thump against your ribcage and into your mind and into the place where his head was mere inches from. You loved the way Dean made you feel—you just hated how you felt on your own.

The muscles of his shoulders worked elegantly as he removed your bottoms and re-ran his hands upwards along your skin. Light goosebumps formed along his trail and he smiled, letting out the lightest laugh in admiration.

Dean’s thumbs found themselves on the edges of your underwear and he paused.

“Like I said,” he was gruff, “we’ve got all the time in the world. So, how do you want me?”

There were few men in the world who would offer themselves to a woman. Be freely tasked with whatever she wanted, not he.

But again, you hated decision making. From dinners to motels to books to people, you hated being the shot caller.

“Use your imagination.” You settled on. “I’m all yours, Dean.”

And since he was already on his knees, he supposed he’d start there.

Dean bent an index finger and rested it at the top of your underwear before dragging it downward, slowly watching your eyes and chest as he inched closer and closer to your core. He didn’t stagger as he crossed a threshold of your covered clit and continued further as he wrist turned and his palm rested against the front of you, his fingers pressing into you from above you panties.

He rubbed his hand back and forth, arching his fingers to press inwards but not moving the Fabric away but caressing it into you. Dean shifted his hand upwards and outstretched a finger on your clothed clit to massage small circles on the bundle of nerves. His opposite shoulder knocked into your leg, opening the space for him as on of your hands shot to a dresser top beside the door and the other rested on his head.

He could feel your hand falling with every ministration. He turned his head in the direction of your hand, the heat of your hand on his face pulsing as the blood was rushing.

“Are you gonna keep fingering me like a middle school boy or really make me feel something, Winchester?” You looked down at him.

He stopped moving his finger.

“Well you told me to use my imagination, sweetheart. You gotta be more specific than that.”

“I want you to eat me out,” you clarified. “I want you to use your fingers and then I want you to fuck me before everyone else comes home.”

Dean’s eyes lit up. A smirk, followed by a “yes ma’am” gave him the orders he needed.

In your imagination, you thought it’d be here by the door. He’d eat you out from the floor and then fuck you against the door but for some, god-fucking-awful reason you can’t place, Dean got up from the floor and walked toward the bed.

His reflection of his back toward the bed reminded you of what you didn’t want to see in it—you.

Dean took a second to undo his jeans and remove himself from them. He was strained already against his briefs but didn’t care to take care of himself first or make it the “problem” needing to be fixed.

And like before, he extended his hand out to you.

“Come on,” he called out and it was hard to ignore the order itself.

A wave of nerves washed over you and made you cold. The sudden realization that you were nearly nude, he too, and your brash words of sex were all that was on the table became too much of a reality. His outstretched hand remained cold.

If you hadn’t known better, you could have assumed a poltergeist had appeared in the room. The sudden chill, the bucket of water dropping on reality bursting a bubble of pretend before it was too late. You were self-conscious and it began to leak like a sieve through the floorboards and walls and all it took was for Dean to truly, really look at you to see that something had changed drastically in the minutes it took for him to move, remove his pants, and hold out his hand.

The romance, the lust, or the sex had died in the moment.

Your hand grasped the edge of the dresser tightly and you couldn’t bare to look at Dean. A shameful, whimpering dog-like mentality was embarrassing and you didn’t fathom it would take on this large of a life. It encapsulated your wants and your needs and was now preventing you from finishing a job that you’d become all too familiar with and it should have been easy.

The mirror reflected those thoughts.

“Hey,” Dean closed his hand and his brows furrowed. “Hey.”

He received no response, just a near frozen you. You shook your head no.

“W-what’s wrong?” He questioned in a state of confusion. Things had changed so quickly. You clicked your tongue, shutting your eyes tightly before opening them again and looking anywhere but him and to the left.

“It’s…” you staggered your words. “It’s, I just, I thought that… well…”

You laughed incredulously at yourself. The hand once gripping the dresser flew to your face in embarrassment and over your eyes.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

Dean could only reiterate his “hey” over and over as he approached you calmly. He shushed in reassurance as he tried to remove the hand that covered your eyes.

“No, no, Dean—I’m fine, really, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Dean said quietly. “What’s going on, hm? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you let him move the hand from your eyes yet you couldn’t look at him. “Nothings wrong I just… I just needed a second, that’s all.”

He didn’t believe you.

He never did when times like these flared up. Whether it be about what he knew or didn’t, any time where you, Sam, or anyone else had a sliver of doubt or injury or sadness, Dean would stop his world to help even if it hurt his own.

“Sweetheart, I think we both know that isn’t true.”

“I’m good. Really.”

He studied you for a time. Just looking, watching the way the muscles in your face twitched, the lack of contact you gave back to him. Dean was far from stupid even if he had his moments; he could see through the veil.

“Then come on,” he proposed. “Let’s just sit down and we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You knew he wouldn’t force you to.

Dean made the slightest move to step backwards and your eyes flashed in the direction of the mirror.

“It’s ok!” Goddamn. How many times were you going to say it?

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him back. “It’s alright!”

Dean shook his head.

“No, it’s not.”

“We can just do it here,” you suggested. It wasn’t exactly the romantic afternoon he had planned out in his head. “Right here.”

“Against the door?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. Your gaze popped again in the direction of the mirror.

Dean caught it this time.

“The doors fine with me,” you restated assuredly. Dean nodded but didn’t make a move to finish what he started before.

Instead, he lifted one of his hands and cupped your face gently. His green eyes bore into you like lasers, prodding for answers he wasn’t sure he’d get but attempting to discover them nonetheless. There was a slice of pity, a lingering disappointment he couldn’t mask but above all else, Dean wanted you to be truthful to him.

He’d spent forever being lied to. Being told that there was only one path to getting what people needed out of life and listening to the directions of people who didn’t truly care what happened to him nor what he wanted. In a small corner of his own personal heaven, he wanted it to be nothing short of perfect even if perfection could never be attained.

And lies were always the cause of its destruction.

“What’s wrong with the bed, Sweetheart?”

You shook your head.

“This ain’t like a… monster-under-the-bed kind of situation, is it?” Dean joked. You scoffed, a smile cracking itself on your face and he could feel the way it grew underneath his hand.

“No,” you laughed. “There’s nothing in here except you and me.”

“Good,” he said lowly. “Then what’s wrong with that mirror on the wall?”

The smile on your face fell.

“Th-the mirror?”

Dean turned his body slightly to open the pathway to the mirror. Floor length and bolted into the wall sat a mirror across from the bed. It was there when you all arrived at this destination and you had never bothered to move it, only growing to hate its location when you got up, got dressed, and when you met the reflection on accident when you were halfway to self pleasure.

“You keep looking at it like it might come alive.”

“There’s nothing in the mirror.”

No real demons, at least.

“Then come to the bed,” Dean offered again. “I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

The ground was too hard even if the idea enticed him. He’d work you to your orgasm and then need help getting up—one too many throw downs with evil and the world catches up with you.

“We could always go to your room,” you suggested.

Dean’s hand caressed your face. You knew he knew you were avoiding something larger than just a room.

“What’s wrong with the mirror, baby?”

Ah shit. Baby.

“Dean—“ you started in argument against him but he wouldn’t let you. He wasn’t letting this go until it was like all other mysteries in his life and it was solved.

“No,” he argued back. “No, and you know you’re not telling the truth. What’s wrong with the mirror?”

“Nothings wrong with the mirror!”

“Yes there is,” his voice was getting tougher, rough around the edges in frustration with not you, but the thoughts swirling within you.

“No—“

“Yes!”

He let go of your face and grabbed your hand.

“Dean—“

Dean took one step toward the mirror and you broke the façade.

“Fine!” You grunted, tugging your hand out of his grasp. “Fine! It’s the fucking mirror, okay?”

“Well—“

“I don’t like it! It’s at the end of my fucking bed and I can’t stand looking in it.”

Dean’s eyes shifted again to a slight sadness and you wanted to throw a brick at the glass.

“Sw-“

You cut him off. “All I see when I look in that reflection is someone who’s… disgusting. I just… I can’t look at myself anymore and I certainly don’t want to watch myself doing something I don’t deserve to do.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dean wanted to reset the day. “You’re not disgusting, sweetheart. Why did you say that, wh—“

“You could have gone with Sam and had someone else for the day, Dean. Someone pretty and sexy and fits all the right boxes for you. I don’t know why you didn’t go.”

“I don’t want them” he said your name firmly. “I stayed because I want you. I don’t want them. They don’t know me or what I like and I chose to be here.”

“Because it’s easy or because it’s convenient?”

“Because it’s perfect.”

“It’s not perfect, Dean.”

Dean stood there aloof in his briefs. Across from him, you were the most vulnerable he’d ever seen you and you were beautiful. There was nothing that caused him to feel repulsed or rejected. He was encapsulated by a glow he’d grown fond of and wanted to be held in. You were gorgeous, underwear and all, and nothing you’d say was going to change his mind.

“To me it is.”

Dean’s head tipped to the side in observance again. “I don’t know what you see—I won’t know what you see. But to me, I see someone who checks all my boxes and it takes nothing else.”

“I can’t look at myself.”

“What if I showed you someone else?”

It didn’t sound right to you. Dean could see it on your face as the confusion fizzled the upset and he wanted to walk it back to clarify yet didn’t.

“You’re not ask-“

“No one else is here,” he shook his head as he reproached you. He grasped one of your hands and hesitantly brought you to the mirror.

“But I want to show you someone else.”

You wanted to protest against him so loudly but when he stopped you in front of the mirror and stood behind you, the words died on your lips. You saw the same person.

The vision in front of you was lumpy and frumpy and the choice of underwear was quickly becoming something to regret.

“Who do you see?” Dean asked you. One of his hands rested on your shoulder, digging into the spot where your neck and shoulder met. The other held onto your own and intertwined your fingers gently.

“I have a feeling you won’t like what I say.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I see… an unfortunate woman. She’s not a supermodel and she’s not a celebrity. So… she’s not the standard of beauty. Her hair’s not done and her makeup is well… not ready for the magazines and she chose the wrong day to wear this color bra.”

“Anything else?” Dean listened.

“The man behind her is too handsome for her. He deserve someone who matches what he gives and that’s not the person in the mirror.”

Dean let that sit in the air for a moment. The seconds felt heavy and you wanted to look away from yourself and crawl under the covers and never see the light of day again.

“Can I tell you what I see?” Dean asked you and you shrugged.

“I can’t imagine it’d be any different than me.”

Dean cleared his throat and from his reflection, his eyes crawled along every inch of you that was exposed to him. You were under a microscope and he the scientist.

“I see my best friend,” he started and you knew you were quickly sinking. “I see a woman who is so strong and capable and caring and good. I see pretty hair and pretty eyes and maybe… maybe…the best lips in this bunker. But I may have to take that back when I look at myself.”

You squeezed his hand.

“I see a woman who has the most beautiful body.” He took the hand from your shoulder and slowly ran the backs of his fingers along your spine. “Every part of her distracts me. I catch myself starting at her when she’s not looking and I have to look away before she notices. Every color looks good on her and she looks the prettiest like this.”

“Anything else?” You said quietly.

Dean looked you in the eyes from the reflection. There were a million things he could say.

“How long do we have?” He laughed. The sound bounced off you; his chest vibrating against your back.

“I haven’t always been the best… anything… when it comes to women. But goddamn do you make me want to be someone else, sweetheart. Like maybe I could be a rock star and you can be the most devoted groupie or… or maybe I could be a firefighter and you can be a school teacher who can’t wait for me to get home.”

“I think you’re projecting, Dean,” you chuckled and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight against his bare chest.

“The woman I see in this mirror is perfect to me.”

“I wish she could see that for herself,” you said dejectedly.

“Then let me show her how,” he prompted. His mouth at the base of your ear, his breath was hot on the side of your face. “Let me show you how.”

“I do—“

He said your name strongly. “If you don’t face it, you won’t overcome it.”

A half a second you thought he might have read that from his Dad’s journal back in the day. Perhaps it was a statement he had grown up with but no matter that root, he sought the end to the cause.

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing different from what you had said before,” Dean’s hands began to shift. They curved over your back and to the front of your body. You watched in the mirror was they traced along your sides and over your hips. The slow agony of his glide caught the fabric of your underwear and begged for them to be pulled away, but he let them remain.

“I’m going to eat you out, like you asked,” you caught his eyes in the mirror and blood rushed to your face. Cheeks hot and flustered, you can’t believe how blatant you had been before. “And then I’m going to fuck you like it’s our last night on this fucking earth, alright?”

“And what of the mirror?”

“You’re gonna watch yourself, us, through it from the bed.”

“I don’t know if I can do that, Dean.”

You panicked a little inside. But his hands kept roaming and his eyes were changing their shades again, and in it all, all you could feel was him. His hard body, his rough hands, the breath on your face, and words he spoke overtook the insecurities that plagued you.

“You can,” he assured. His long fingers played at the strap of your bra, inching it away from your shoulder and letting it slip down your arm.

“I know you can because you always listen to me,” he whispered in your ear. “So? What do you say?”

The same fingers that let the strap fall moved under your arm and around to the nearly exposed breast. His hand snaked around your body and up to cup the one breast before squeezing the flesh tightly. You shuddered a breath and he knew he had you.

Dean took your earlobe between his teeth and let go with a small ‘pop.’ His hand squeezed and soothed, the other sitting patiently at your hip. Fingers tugged at the exposed nipple and you watched it harden like magic in the mirror.

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me, baby.”

You met his eyes again.

“Fuck me, Dean.”

And he smiled into your neck.

There was something unexpectedly titillating watching Dean go down on you.

It was daunting at first. Dean had led you to the bed, sitting you on the end and crept up onto the mattress behind you. Your reflection stared back hauntingly—dreading yet curious as to what it may appear as in front of you. It was strange, watching Dean and feeling his touch but not truly looking into his eyes. His hands caressed your body and the seriousness of his need to prove your mind wrong was enough to challenge yourself.

He wanted to prove you wrong. Dean wanted to show you how beautiful you were in the throes of ultimate vulnerability and passion.

“Look,” he positioned your head to look in the mirror across the bed.

“I want you to keep looking, alright? Even when we move or I move you, I need you to keep looking.”

“What if I wa—“ You turned your head to the side to look at him but he took his hand and repositioned your head.

“What if I want to look at you?”

“I’m right here,” Dean looked at himself in the mirror. He puffed out his chest slightly, you biting your lip in his boyish confidence that never seemed to leave him.

You knew, however, how much Dean gave to everyone else. One day, you promised, you’d give Dean something he needed too.

“Now,” he rubbed the sides of your arms before moving out of the way and off the bed. “Lay down.”

“But—“

“I’ll tell you how to do it,” he dismissed.

You shimmed up the bed slightly and leaned back. Your back hit the mattress with the thud and you weren’t sure what to do with your hands, so you just folded them across your stomach. Dean scoffed and looked down at you to which your brows furrowed.

“What?” You questioned.

“You’re acting like you’ve never done this before.”

“Well,” you countered. “In a way I haven’t.”

“Yeah but we’ve done this before,” he made a gesture between the two of you with his finger. “Relax.”

You nodded your head and breathed in deeply. You had done this before. You had. He’s done it a hundred times and if you were counting, he actually liked doing it so it was more than a hundred times over the last few years.

Dean knocked his knee against yours, tipping his head in silent order to open them which you complied obediently with. Now, spread before him, your heart was racing.

“Sit up on your elbows.”

You did.

“When I get down,” Dean warned. “You’re gonna see yourself. And if you get too overwhelmed, you tell me and we stop.”

God, you loved him. You really did.

“Okay,” you said in a quiet nod.

Before you could back down, before he went down, he leaned across to you and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I mean it, yeah?”

You agreed. “Yeah.”

Dean hummed and kneeled on the floor against his better judgement. His hands that rested on your thighs went to your hips, catching the fabric between his palms and slowly, he pulled down your panties and helped remove them from your legs. Above his head, you could see yourself in the mirror—the most private part of you wholly covered by Dean’s head and the expanse of his back took up the rest of the space.

He lifted on your legs off the bed and onto his shoulder. He peppered a few scattered kisses on the inside of your thighs as he repositioned himself for the taking. You were right there, waiting. Dean’s own want was growing by the second and all he wanted to do was taste you.

He hooked his arm around your leg and brought his hand to your core, thumb pressing into you with a jolt. And then he pulled his head inwards. Painting a stripe with his tongue, that was all it took to let the fear escape your body.

Dean was at the alter of you; the reflection emboldened your acceptance of yourself and his actions that formed a deeper well within you. He kept going. His head moving, bobbing for every motion he made. His fingers pulled you open as his tongue painted pictures inside of you.

Each stoke of his tongue, of his fingers along the sides and his thumb pressing into your clit made the blood rush down. You throbbed, burning for something more as you watched nothing but the back of his head and the muscles of his back constrict with his ambition.

Dean watched you watch yourself. He was proud of you—how you didn’t truly watch him or fall to your back instead. You mewled, gasping with a jolt as he prompted himself to use his fingers more. He took it as a sign. Instead of palming himself on the outset of his briefs, he took his other hand and brought it to your pussy that beckoned it.

“You good baby?”

He moved the hand that was already there to your thigh and groped it. You split for a moment from the mirror to look at him. His cheeks were flush, chest laboring with a breathlessness he welcomed.

“Perfect. I’m perfect.”

He ran his tongue over his lips as he smiled and your heart skipped a beat.

“Damn right,” he encouraged.

You anticipated him to continue on with his mouth but he sat back on his knees on the floor. Straining in his briefs, Dean just looked at you before rising with a grunt and kneeling next to you on the bed.

“Sit up,” he pointed to the end of the bed and you did as told again.

“Wha-“

“Shh,” he hushed. He sat sideways next to you with one of his legs tucked under him. Dean’s hand reached out and rested on the space between your stomach and cunt and when you looked up, he clicked his tongue at you.

“Mirror,” he redirect you and suddenly, his fingers were inching lower and lower until they were meeting the wet remnants of his mouths product.

Your mouth fell open in the slightest; a rewarding breath escaped your lips as his finger, then two breeched you and met your warmth in an eager welcome. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you and gathered the wetness that built quickly, Dean’s forehead fell onto the top of your head and his body leaned into you.

With every staggered breath he was more rewarded. His fingers relished the sounds your pussy made as he sped up his wrist faster.

“Oh,” you barely mumbled out. “Fuck, Dean.”

Dean hummed and the rumble went through you. He kept his pace and you wanted to close your eyes, stall the feelings building inside of you but didn’t. You didn’t disobey his wants and efforts of helping you get over this self deprecation that was sealing fate before there was a chance to solve it.

“Dean,” you said again but not worried. He didn’t stop at his name.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting the spot you ached for him to find without cause. The muscle in your leg jolted and your hand went to his arm, tightly holding on as the other dug into the sheets of your bed and formed new wrinkles in its wake.

The heat was fast in its approach. Screeching from an abyss of darkness to only be awakened by the light of him, your end was near. It was greedy to want it all the time yet Dean was more than willing to give forever if it meant he’d feel this way.

“Come on,” he egged you on as you clenched the two fingers. “Baby come on, I’ve got you.”

“F-fuck, Dean, I-Christ,” you writhed in pleasure. He was leaning against you and his eyes closed let the reflection before you come alive in more ways than one. He was all yours—not a single word or person or thing could change it. Completely and utterly devoted to you and for once, when you looked in the mirror, you felt beautiful.

Your breath hitched in your throat and there was little else you could say as the room was filled with nothing but your heavy breaths and the sick sounds of your pleasure.

Those sounds, the mirror, and Dean’s words were all it would take to send you over a ledge. The burning, bright light of relief was striking. It was blistering in its blaze and entirely too much to send words tumbling out of your lips. All you could do was dig your fingertips into his arm and watch your body twitch at the intensity.

It shook your legs; shoulders twitching with the muscles in your stomach convulsing. Dean slowed his fingers to a stop. He held them inside of you for a second before removing them as carefully as he could and he rested the hand above your knee. Your finish on his fingers wet your skin and brought a coolness that hadn’t been there before.

Dean pushed his head against yours. He opened his eyes and met yours face to face, not in the mirror.

As he hoped, there was something inside of yours that changed. There was no regret and the cruelty of your mind was the past for now—even if the evil crept in the shadows around the gleam that surrounded you now.

You were beautiful. You were perfect.

And if you couldn’t vocalize those words yourself, at least he knew you could see them.

“Did you see what I see?” He asked lowly. He wasn’t done with you yet.

“Yes,” you whispered. “I see it.”

“Good.”

“But I don’t want to look at me anymore.” Your eyes weren’t tortured. “I just want to look at you.”

When he fucked you into the mattress, you did. You took in him and only him and when everyone returned when the sun had long gone down, you felt anew when Dean glanced at you from across the table and that glow of renewal hadn’t left you.

As always, comments and reblogs encourage writers the most! I thank you for reading and I am so thankful you took the time out of your day to read what I’ve put out here. Thank you!