#and SO many of those are reblogged from you because both your sense of humor is TREASURED and WONDERFUL

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 16: Yes, no, maybe

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

Yes, no, maybe. I don't know. Can you repeat the question?

Spencer had gotten used to hearing that song as the opening theme every Friday, from your TV. One day at work, you referred to one of your favorite sitcoms, and you were quite surprised that the young man didn’t understand what you were talking about.

It turned out that the doctor had extensive knowledge in practically all areas, but entertainment was his weak point. So when you found out he had never seen Malcolm in the Middle, you basically forced him into having weekly meetings at your house to watch all the seasons.

At first, Spencer wasn’t too thrilled, as that genre of television wasn’t his favorite, but after the first season, it turned out that he was quite enjoying the show. The sharp humor, the cleverly written plots, the chaotic and dysfunctional family... all the elements seemed to have captivated his attention.

Many times, for both health and economic reasons, you prepared food at home for dinner. But that day, you decided to treat yourselves and ordered a large pizza with a six-pack of beer for you and lemonade for your friend.

You were both comfortably settled on your couch, ready to start the next episode, when you heard Spencer speak.

“I have a theory.”

“About what?”

“About Malcolm's family”

“Hmm,” you hummed, with your mouth full of pepperoni pizza. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been thinking, and I believe Hal suffers from compulsive lying and gambling addiction, in addition to clearly seeking a mother figure in Lois. She has obsessive-compulsive disorder, needing to control everything to feel that things will go well; I’d say she’s a bit narcissistic as well, and she’s addicted to nicotine. Francis is completely impulsive, and I would even dare say he suffers from oppositional defiant disorder. Reese displays sociopathic and antisocial behaviors and has low self-esteem that he reflects through violence. Malcolm is gifted, of course, but also has antisocial and narcissistic behaviors, and is even a bit controlling and self-pitying, as if he had the worst of each of his parents. Dewey has musical genius; he’s somewhat introverted but quite sensible, and I want to think he’s the least toxic in the family. I mean, considering the family environment they’re in, they could be worse, but I couldn’t help but notice those psychological peculiarities in each character.”

Throughout the time Spencer had been speaking, you watched him attentively, and when he finished, you let out a loud laugh.

“Reid, when did you have time to think about all that?”

“This week! I started to remember, and somehow I needed to talk to you about the psychology of each family member. I think it’s very interesting; that’s why.”

“Only you could watch a show like this and come to those conclusions,” you laughed friendly.

In the background, the sound of the Wilkerson brothers fighting actively filled the room, and suddenly your friend became shy.

“But what do you think? Do you think I’m right?”

“On all points. It’s a very accurate analysis, yes,” you murmured playfully, taking a sip of your beer. “Who’s your favorite character so far?”

“I think Dewey. He seems very sweet and small… I don’t know, I think he’s a very noble and intelligent boy. Malcolm makes the mistake of letting his ego control him; otherwise, he would be my favorite.”

“Mine is Francis,” you confessed. “When I was a teenager, I was hopelessly in love with him.”

“That makes sense. I think because of your childhood experiences, you seek those chaotic situations in the opposite sex. In your partners, more specifically.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychoanalyzing me?”

“If we’re talking about psychoanalysis from a Freudian perspective, of course not. But Jung, on the other hand, had some contributions that I think are more suitable…”

“Reid,” you interrupted, placing one of your hands on his arm to get his attention. “You know I love hearing you ramble about all that, but do you really want to do such a deep analysis about this? About Malcolm in the Middle?”

It wasn’t a complaint, of course; you just sounded amused by the situation.

“You’re right; I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’ve thought so much about it.”

“That’s how the minds of geniuses work, I guess,” you joked, giving him a playful shove with your shoulder. “But now I want you to relax; let your brain shut off a little so you can enjoy silly TV situations and eat pizza like any of us mortals.”

Your friend nodded, feeling strange about all the thoughts that had arisen from something as bland as a sitcom, and he settled back into the couch, asking you for another piece of pizza. You spent the entire time laughing, eating, and drinking beside him, chatting occasionally about the show or really anything else.

Suddenly, you started to find resemblances between the characters on your TV and your colleagues in the unit, and when you dared to compare Ida, Lois’s mother, with Chief Erin Strauss, he broke into loud laughter. You rarely heard him laugh so freely, and inevitably, you felt contagious with joy, even if your joke hadn’t been that funny.

“I think she does look a bit alike,” he finally said, practically sprawled on the couch from laughter. “Especially in… you know, her particular personality.”

“Do you think you would have been in the advanced class of brainiacs that Malcolm is in?”

“Of course.”

“Show-off!” you exclaimed, teasing him for the confidence with which he had spoken while playfully shoving him.

You settled in better and pulled a blanket that was nearby so that you two could cover yourselves at least from your legs to your laps. This involved shortening the distance between you, but it didn’t bother you at all.

“I like watching TV with you,” he suddenly murmured, finishing his last piece of dinner. Spencer didn’t like the crusts of the pizza, and you always offered to eat them for him, so that night was no exception.

“I like it a lot too. It’s like… we’re getting rid of a bit of all the stress from work, right?”

“Yeah, I believe so.”

“Especially if it’s with my best friend at work.”

“Am I your best friend at work?”

“Don’t get too excited. You are because I don’t have many options.”

The man let out a hearty laugh, but he took the compliment anyway. In silence, you continued watching the comedy until, at some point during the night, Spencer spoke:

“You’re also my best work friend. And that’s saying something, considering I do have more options.”

With a smile on your face, you leaned over to kiss him on the cheek soundly, like a little girl would do with her preschool friend. It was innocent and sincere.

In the presence of the cold creeping under your feet, you both cuddled closer to each other (in the most respectful and friendly way possible) and continued enjoying the marathon, quite happy to at least be able to steal a couple of hours from the busy life you led.

[bbgnyx]

omg !! I saw your post where you said you'd be taking song fic requests and I have one. 🫣

song: you belong with me - Taylor Swift

lyrics: "But she wears short Skirts, I wear T-shirts She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find that what you're looking for has been here the whole time If you could see that I'm the one who understands you, been here all along so, why can't you see? You belong with me.."

Pairing: football player!lee know x introverted!reader

genre: angst (with fluff at the end...?)

You Belong With Me~

a/n: this is absolutely my favourite song ever! @hugsforjungwon thanks for requesting this, it was thrilling to write, and I hope you like it!

my taglist is open btw, just message me if you wanna be part of it!!

masterlist | prompt list

ty, @cafekitsune for the dividers~

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

for asks view this post

The night was calm and peaceful. You lounged on the couch, absentmindedly swiping through your phone, while your best friend, Minho, lay sprawled across you. An 80’s hip-hop song played softly in the background, prompting you to groan. "Who on earth decided to play this ancient song?" you quipped, only to answer your own question. "Oh right, we have a Minho in the room." He simply rolled his eyes, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

You and Minho had been inseparable since childhood, so close that you even defied the college rules and secretly roomed together. In your opinion, sharing a room with your best friend was far better than being stuck with some spoiled rich girl. The college dorm arrangements were always harsh, and you didn't want to take any chances.

Over time, your connection with Minho has only grown stronger, and perhaps, you've developed a crush on him. However, you knew deep down that his relationship status as someone's boyfriend rendered your feelings insignificant. It was heart-wrenching for you, but what truly mattered was Minho's happiness, even if it wasn't with you.

Tonight appeared to be just like any other normal night, with both of you lying down engrossed in your phones. Strangely enough, Minho seemed restless, his fingers dancing furiously on the screen as he typed away. Suddenly, his ringtone erupted into a fast-paced melody, prompting him to abruptly leave the room. You didn't pay much attention at first, but you could faintly hear his voice resonating from outside the door. He was tense and arguing.

You realised it was another one of the many fights between him and his girlfriend. You sighed and turned your attention back to your phone. After a few minutes you heard him come back inside, a hand running through his hair like he always did when he was nervous.

“Trouble in paradise?” you asked putting your phone down and turning your attention to him. Minho laughed ruefully, running his fingers through his hair again, as if just thinking about it was enough to make him want to pull at his hair. "Not exactly," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of fondness and frustration. "Jiyeon is wonderful, really. It's just that we have different...senses of humor. She didn't appreciate one of my jokes, I brushed it off as something trivial, and now she's giving me the silent treatment."

"Makes sense. Your jokes suck."

"They do not."

"You're the only one who laughs at them."

"You do too!"

"Only because they're so bad!". As you uttered those words, your gaze dropped to the floor, almost as if avoiding eye contact would reveal the hidden truth of your admiration for Minho's jokes.

"Jiyeon's not bad, of course, but don't you think you jumped into this a little too quickly?" The thought had been lingering in your mind, quietly questioning whether Minho's trust in everyone was warranted. It took him quite some time to let his guard down and trust someone, and although you would never voice it aloud, you couldn't help but feel that he had rushed into this relationship faster than he was comfortable with.

Maybe it was because Jiyeon actually registered as a girl to him. After all these years of being friends, you probably didn’t look any different than the boys to him. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy dressing up, it just wasn't a priority for you, and you didn't have much time for it. Growing up in a small neighborhood, you weren't exactly the social butterfly either.

Jiyeon, on the flip side, always exuded an air of elegance and charm. She was effortlessly put together, making it easy to engage in meaningful conversations with her. Although she adored Jiyeon, it pained her to see her standing next to Minho. They didn't even have to be physically close to give off the impression of a couple.

As your conversation gradually faded, you decided to play some music. The song that came on was your absolute favorite, causing you to sway your head and unleash your inner karaoke star. Minho chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping along to the rhythm.

"Jiyeon would absolutely despise listening to this," Minho remarked.

"It's quite entertaining!" you replied with a smirk.

Uh huh, sure," he playfully retorted.

In that moment, you couldn’t think of what Jiyeon thinks of all things. You saw her enough without dwelling on her when she wasn't even there. So what if the music was a bit silly and funky? You were a little silly and funky yourself. Sometimes it made you wonder how Minho could spend time with you, considering how different you were from Jiyeon. It just didn't make sense to you.

But what did Jiyeon really know? She wasn't the one who had known him for ages, who could sense his moods from across the house, or who shared all his inside jokes. No, that was you. But did it even matter anymore? Who were you to feel bitter about Minho's new love interest? Just a friend who hung on his every word, whether you showed it or not.

"I don't understand how you can listen to this," Minho interrupted your thoughts, causing you to quickly look away, feeling your face flush from almost being caught staring at him. "It all sounds the same to me. Like static."

"Not to me," you replied, watching Minho get up to make some tea. You couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of barrier over his eyes that you could remove, so he could see you for who you truly were: everything he had been searching for.

______________________________________________________________

The following day, Minho was in the company of Jiyeon during the morning, but upon his return, he seemed unusually quiet. It was evident that he had a lot on his mind, so you decided not to disturb him. However, you couldn't resist for too long.

"I noticed you left in the morning," you mentioned.

"Yeah, I was with Jiyeon," he replied.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, concerned.

He let out a forced laugh. "As alright as it can be, I suppose."

You nodded, not wanting to pry further. "Are you ready for the big game this afternoon?" you inquired.  "Yeah, I guess," he responded nonchalantly. You smiled, reassuring him, "You're our star quarterback, you'll do great." Extending your fist, you offered him a fist bump, and he reciprocated.

The game arrived sooner than expected, and you quickly put on your house scarf before rushing to the stadium to wish Minho luck. Spotting him, you couldn't contain your excitement and almost tackled him to the ground. His laughter filled the air, a rare and beautiful sound. It was moments like these that made you feel privileged to be one of the few who could bring out that genuine joy in him.

As you said 'Good Luck,' you both performed your special handshake, a ritual you always followed before every game. Afterward, Minho mentioned that he had something important to tell you and went off to prepare himself. You waved him goodbye and found a seat in the bleachers. It was then that your gaze fell upon Jiyeon, she was the head cheerleader, energetically waving her pompoms and looking absolutely adorable in her tight top and short skirt, something you would never be. You couldn't help but feel surprised that Minho didn't approach her for a kiss or something.

The game began and the crowd erupted with cheers, each person supporting their own team. In the end, your and Minho's team emerged victorious! You jumped up, threw your scarf aside, and hurried down to meet Minho.

"You were amazing! I'm so proud of you, as always," you said excitedly.

"Thanks, y/n," he replied, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

You continued to gush about the thrilling game, but then noticed that Minho was only focused on you. Curious, you asked him what was on his mind.

"I wasn't completely honest earlier. Jiyeon and I... we broke up. And I've been thinking aboutwhether I made the right decision or if I was too blind to see what was right in front of me. I think I've found my answer."

You stood there, shocked, and surprised. Was this really happening?

Without warning, Minho swept you off my feet and pulled you into the most passionate kiss you had ever experienced. In that moment, it felt like the entire world disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

There was nothing wrong with exploring, making mistakes, and searching for love. But if it wasn't out there, Minho would always come back.

He would always come back to the person he had known all along.

[sgiandubh]

Such unsmiling people

The comment that moved me the most after posting that August 10 diatribe came from a very special blogger, @myrthil23. I promised her a longer, thoughtful answer, so here it is.

I share with her way more than meets the eye and with a bit of deductive skills, you could easily place us very specifically on an European map. To be honest, I was surprised (and then absolutely thrilled, of course) to find someone like her hanging on in here. But this is not the only reason prompting a response - her comment made me think a lot about a couple of relevant things.

For those who loathe foraging for reblogs, here goes:

In the colorful Shipper family, the Eastern Europeans are (supposedly) the unsmiling ones. This is one of the stubborn clichés that informed the Western gaze, especially in Communist times. Unsmiling, foreboding and unfathomable people: I am not smiling, I am laughing while writing it, because if anything, Myrthil, @zeya-zg, a couple of others and I do share a superb ability to use bullshit-o-meters, an unsinkable sense of humor and a hefty dose of sarcasm. All of these are basic, compulsory street smarts if you want to survive, God knows how, a nuclear winter of sorts.

Imagine you grow up in a world with empty supermarket shelves but permanently sold-out concert halls, where trivial details such as cotton swabs, potato chips (crisps, heh), political parties or The Last Tango in Paris are virtually unknown. Imagine your family is either cautiously aligned to some public idiocy they loathe everyday at home, teaching you at the same time to never talk to strangers. Or even worse, a political pariah, for reasons that have everything to do with the way you sip your tea, as Ella Fitzgerald would say. The latter situation (mine) was something very much akin to a civil death. And you just knew you could never be, for imbecile but firm reasons, an architect, a lawyer or even an epidemiologist: jobs way too sensitive to entrust the enemies of the people (and their spawn) with.

What is left for you, then, when the view from your window, in 1982, is something not very different from this photograph:

(side note: these people are staying in line to buy 1 kilogram of sugar for each person, which was the monthly allowance fixed by law in my country, from 1980 to 1989; you could only buy those with Government-issued tickets, not unlike what happened in the UK during WWII or what you can see in series like The Handmaid's Tale)

When all is seemingly lost, you will still have, in no particular order: books. Music (including piano lessons). Sports. Each other (although that was overall more complicated than it seemed). Going to the opera and never taking off your winter coat inside, but enjoying every second of it. Impromptu dinners by candlelight during power outages ("wir machen ein bisschen Stimmung"/let's make a bit of atmosphere, grinned my aunt). Foreign languages (a must). Fits and giggles and jokes galore. And the ability to adapt to just about anything, anywhere.

When change finally reached us, many had the almost surreal opportunity to go West. Some came back, others didn't, simply because they chose to continue elsewhere their pursuit of happiness. And yes, Myrthil is right, that fabled West was always something to behold and measure up to. In my case, it was almost too easy, but then I consider myself really lucky: going to live in Paris, at 18, felt both as homecoming and being left alone (and with unlimited credit) in a candy store.

So, here we are. We may have discovered Sylvia Plath a bit late, but I think we are decently knowledgeable about Chaucer. We sometimes may sound Edwardian and if we do, you should probably blame C.E. Eckersley's Essential English (this is how that life-long affair started, for me). And if anything, we bring another, perhaps even more inquisitive, angle to these strange things we are dealing with daily, in here.

But for the love of Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, don't you ever dare tell us what to think and with whom to talk. Don't call us stupid. Don't call us liars. Historical reasons prompted a durable allergy to sanctimonious speech and yes (I can only speak for myself) I will always, always react. Because we do not deserve the arrogance of people who have no idea of how it really was to grow up somewhere in Eastern Europe during the Eighties. Oh, and something else, lest I forget: being pariahs never bothered us - we can cope.

Other than that, we should go along just fine. :)

PS: @claraisabelcampohermoso, you probably don't know how your gif made me smile. Nadia will always be Nadia: a humble, warm person with a terribly heartbreaking story.

[reservoirreputation]

Idk how long ago you reblogged that fandom ask game thing, but 7, 12, 14, 15, 17, 18, 22, 24, 25 (all character-specific questions are for both Larry and Freddy) (I apologize in advance)

I believe I've found the one!

7. Regarding clothing, I think Freddy loves that leather jacket of his and just *believes* he looks so cool in it (he does). For Larry this is slightly cheating but his signet ring. That thing never leaves his hand throughout the whole movie (perhaps drawing our attention to Freddy's fake-ass ring? 👀).

12. Craziest/funniest AU, Freddy's fake-ass ring as told from the POV of the ring. That one will be crack treated seriously on my part, I'm gonna try and give that one a Bronte-style gothic backstory and everything. Another that would be seen as crazy, depending on your mileage for RPF, would be a ResDogs fic based loosely on the premise of Supernatural's The French Mistake, as in it's the actors of the movie interacting with the characters and vice versa.

14. Didn't even consider Orange/Pink at the start but here we are...

15. I've decided to stick to present tense all the way, now. I have dabbled in it and past tense in previous fics, but prefer present.

I used to think the more detailed a piece of writing is the better, but now my stuff is streamlined, bare bones info; if the setting is one we (or the characters) will be sitting with for an extended period of time, explain it in detail. Otherwise, don't sweat it. Those nitty gritty details will just bog you down, and unless it is plot. Relevant. I don't bother with it.

Style change in how I prepare to write/post a fic; I hold myself to the promise that I won't start posting a multichapter fic until it is 95% done. This is a lifesaver. I cannot stress enough how well this has worked out for me, especially in contrast to how badly I've been burned by being impatient in the past. It is a recent change for me, compared to how long I've been writing for, but it is also one of the biggest contributing factors to me getting so many fanfictions completed.

17. Freddy would be living for all of the comic book movies. He's got a clear preference for Marvel, but loves them all, especially compared to how little content there was when he was a kid. He's got a soft spot for the early 2000s movies (like a lot of us do) but also loves how far the genre has come.

I see Larry not being able to stand gangster movies, because they never get shit right. And when they do, it's because someone was a damn dirty snitch, and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. I can see him liking old Hollywood romantic comedies, some real escapism stuff. I think he's willing to dabble in a little bit of everything, and will humor Freddy when it comes to his picks for movie night.

18. I'm doing this on PC : D

Hang on

Tried it on discord mobile for more *spicy* results and just got stuff like 'is' and 'and' 😩

22. Headcanon for Freddy; only child, always wanted to be a cop, parents disapproved. He's either agreed to undercover work because his parents are dead, or he's not on good terms with them. Seeing how his parents dislike his career choices makes him wonder if they'll disagree with his 'life choices' and makes him close himself off almost entirely. He otherwise had a good childhood, and has hung onto many of those childhood interests, like his comic books and posters and figurines and his awful diet. There's a sense of freedom likely, in being able to be true to himself now more than ever but not throwing away what made him happy before.

Larry; I think he really wanted to embrace the greaser look of the 50s, but couldn't afford many of the clothes/products. As a grown adult, he gets to do what he wants, when he wants, including emulating the trends he was so fond of as a teen. It really represents the height of cool/generational discontent that many people his age experienced, but especially for Larry with his home life. I think a young Larry Dimmick made his California Dreamin' play and met up with the first guy that would give him a job, that being Joe Cabot, and has been loyal to the guy since. After all, only father figure is best father figure.

24. Favorite thing about Freddy: we both have similar lifestyles and want to fuck that old man.

Favorite thing about Larry: Look at him. Need I say more? Oh, and we both want to fuck that young man.

25. Least favorite thing? Your honor, my men did nothing wrong. Yes they did all that, but I don't care. Yes they contradict each other, like I said I don't care. They match each others freak and look beautiful together. I accept Freddy's 'on my dick' so I can have him at his 'I'M DYIN' HERE'. I accept Larry casually discussing chopping digits so I can have him at his 'who's a tough guy?' I like my fictional men well-rounded and a little toxic.

Least favorite thing they did; die.

[hannahstarshade]

I posted 1,858 times in 2022

That's 334 more posts than 2021!

29 posts created (2%)

1,829 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@redbuddi

@emilyparagraph

@wingless-cupid

@isitdonproof

@silverstreams

I tagged 1,843 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#yuurivoice - 289 posts

#tmnt - 239 posts

#portal - 202 posts

#tmnt 2018 - 174 posts

#rottmnt - 172 posts

#rise of the tmnt - 165 posts

#lol - 142 posts

#portal 2 - 141 posts

#alphonse - 124 posts

#fave - 104 posts

Longest Tag: 99 characters

#still love the meta theory that faust is a listener and y!finn is chasing him across time and space

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I’m coping with humor and trying to decompress after the Bittersweet premiere because what the fuuuUUCK my brain has too many thoughts I just I can’t

38 notes - Posted April 18, 2022

#4

That one time Alphonse did his chat and his pokemon a concern (source)

@yuurivoice

43 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

#3

It's Scorpio season and Pocky Day, which means it's time to celebrate this lil freak right here.

It's Alphonse Friday babyyyy 🎉🎊

(Artwork created by Jackie Eleanor)

71 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

#2

Stars Fading But I Linger

Auron has been referred to as a “dreamer of dreams.” He has a passion for writing and creating stories. However, the Auron we know now is jaded and unmoved (or at least that’s the impression he wants to give off.) “Life has not been fair to any. Fairness is a dream conjured up by those naïve enough to believe we live in a world where things don’t have to be taken if you want them.” He rose to his current position through ambition and holds high standards for himself and those he surrounds himself with. This height of hubris may give us clues to where this character came from and where he's going.

Auron is associated with tower imagery. The most obvious is the large painting of a tower behind his desk, as seen in the Holiday Party episode. However, there are other mentions and hints of towers as well. Auron’s office appears to be high above the city, mimicking the lofty space. His listener is referred to as “Rook,” short for rookie. The rook chess piece resembles a tower. After their argument, Faust muses “I wonder, brother, from your ivory tower can you see anything down here? You’re so out of touch.” 

Around the world, tower’s are symbols of hope and promise. They signify wealth and act as waypoints as well. However in media, towers can evoke a sense of isolation, loneliness, and foreboding. They may also represent the hubris and ego of a character or group of characters. The tower card in tarot holds the meaning of “sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening,” as well as “unforeseen catastrophe.” (Also of note: The tower card immediately follows the devil in the major arcana. The devil is associated with “shadow self, attachment, addiction, restriction, sexuality,” in addition to “disruptive revelation.” This may tie into Faust’s “deal with the devil” that gets references a few times. Thought that was neat.)

Auron's entire operation is beginning to show cracks. His head of talent has been fired after several failed ventures, and both Derek and Jessie threaten the power he holds over his illegal activities. On top of that, Auron has closed himself off, an example of which is distancing himself from his coworkers during social gatherings. He is just now beginning to open up to Rook. Auron's cool veneer slips after a brief argument with his brother. He admits he has a habit of indulging in temptation behind closed doors, and during the ride home from dinner with Rook he states “I would choose me over everything else.”

These story beats parallel Source Finn’s struggles and current state of mind. Finn is overworked and under scrutiny by the highest power in his realm. He keeps himself busy with his duties as a steward, remaining isolated in his tower to continue his work. After he begins meddling with the Dreamers—an act which he reprimanded his partner for long ago—he can’t stop himself. Left to his own devices, Finn persists. Both are avoiding close relationships, and both became involved in the Bittersweet trio's unexpected Christmas roadtrip.

We can even take a step further into speculation territory. All of this can be used to make the argument that Auron has a strong connection to Finn and the magics he has been experimenting with; if not the Auron in the story at present, then a Source Auron prior to passing on to the world Bittersweet take’s place. He could have been responsible for creating or first discovering the garden of dreams that Finn continues to tend to. This would give greater gravity to him being a "dreamer of dreams" that created worlds with second chances. However, the responsibility or the effects of indulgence became too much, and eventually he became a dreamer himself. Maybe he was Finn’s predecessor, or maybe he was that fellow steward that worked alongside Finn, and all that remains now are unconscious memories of lost dreams and a tower that foreshadows inner and external turmoil.

Characters and scripts written by Yuurivoice

Artwork created by Jackie Eleanor

Sources (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10)

82 notes - Posted August 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I thought of an alternate title: Alphonse dunks on the tutorial child. (source)

@yuurivoice

235 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[grumpygreenwitch]

Fanfiction 22-23

Originally posted 10/17/23. The thing is, as much as I have a problem with the vampire situation in the Guild Hunter universe, I can also admit that it fits within the universe, much for the same reasons and points Alyss has made so far. The lil’ sunflower’s just lucky that he’s caught the Cadre at a time when its members are all critically open to the possibility of change and progress. Barring one of them, who really ought to go back to his nap.

Buy me a Ko-fi? And please remember that reblogs are about the only way my stories get out there.

1-2-3 + 4-5 + 6-7-8-9-10 + 11-12 + 13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21 + 22-23 + 24-25 + 26-27

22

Alyss was shown to a computer room under the hyperbolic watch of three angels and two vampires, both of whom felt so old to his senses that the hairs on the back of his neck kept lifting up as if he were their prey. He behaved, for the most part. He printed out the lists for every territory, even if he very much doubted some of them wanted the things. He also printed several copies of another personal project and handed them out to one of the vampires, a dark-skinned, dark-haired, strikingly handsome man. “Would you please make sure to get these to Archangel Suyin?” She’d been kind to him and Alyss could only hope that her kindness would extend to others. “And Archangel Raphael too, I guess,” he added. For all his ruthlessness the Archangel of North America had been fair, and he’d listened. “Or um, I guess, get them to someone who can?”

The vampire’s brows went up. He stared at Alyss levelly, trying to find humor in the dark brown eyes; he saw none, only the young angel’s earnest solemnity. The vampire had come to indulge his curiosity and meet Alyss, nothing else, but he hadn’t expected the little goldfinch to really not know who he was taking to. “I’ll see what I can do,” he assured Alyss evenly.

Alyss nodded. Then he hit the manufacturer’s reset for the computer.

“Would you like me to set it on fire as well,” the same vampire asked, amused, when the angels around them realized what he’d done and lunged forward to try and stop the process.

“No, it’s not mine,” Alyss told him wanly. “I’m so tired. Do you know which way to my cell, please?”

The vampire pressed his lips tightly shut. It would have been mean to laugh, and there was no guarantee Alyss wouldn’t misunderstand the gesture. “I’ll take you there,” he assured the angel. “Come on.”

Alyss followed the vampire dutifully, and they walked in silence for a long moment.

“Do you really believe that? That the vampiric contract is unfair?” “Yes,” Alyss said, walking slowly and hoping he wouldn’t have to answer too many questions. He was very tired and he had a terrible craving for Jean’s cornbread. “Most of all because there’s no room for error, no room for the fact a vampire is a newborn when they sign it.”

“I’d hardly call myself a newborn,” the vampire countered mildly.

“Then why do you count your age from the day you’re Made?” Alyss replied. “I know bloodlust is a terrible thing. I’m not a fighter, I’m not on the frontlines, but no one could miss the horrors that happened when all those vampires rose up. But it’s hard to see detail in a mob. I have. I’ve seen detail. I’ve been to so many places, so many homes. Do you want to know what teaches a vampire to crest that wave? It’s not fear. It’s support. The ones who learn self-control the best are taught, not terrorized.”

“So, what, love?” The vampire scoffed.

“What? No! This isn’t a Beatles song,” Alyss chided him sternly, and the vampire’s amusement rose to new heights. “Support! A support network. Friends. Family. Companions. Knowing that if they slip up they won’t automatically be killed, that someone will be there to catch them before they fall into the abyss. That someone’s there to teach them how to walk on the edge without falling, to begin with. That there’s someone there saying, ��if you are in danger of falling, here’s my hand, take it, pull yourself up.” Alyss huffed, rubbing wearily at his face. “We teach our babies. They get a hundred years of leeway if not more. You’d think we’d teach the other babies we make, too. Do you think you could get a message to the security forces here at the Refuge?“

All of the vampire’s amusement had vanished at the stark, unexpected truth that the young angel had put before him with such simple words. For a long moment all he could think of was the many times, the many people for whom he’d been that hand, well knowing that he was all that stood between them and the abyss.

For a second all he could think of was the one moment when he had been offered that hand by his best friend, when he’d needed it the most.

He had to bring himself back to reality with an effort, and gave Alyss a sharp, hard look when the young angel’s final words sank in. "Why?”

“There’s an angel running around. He’s, he was of Charisemnon’s Court. I think he ought to be…” Alyss groped for a word that would fit beyond his own incensed feelings. “Watched. He might be guilty of war crimes but that’s not something I’d really know for sure.”

“Describe him,” the vampire growled.

Alyss described Moissani as best he could, and then added, “Oh, I, uh…”

“Go on?”

“I might have punched him,” Alyss finished in a rush. “Last night.”

“Last night, when, last night? You weren’t supposed to have any visitors.”

“He snuck into my cell.”

“That’s a punching offense?”

“No! It was, it was just what he said.”

“Uh-huh, and that was?”

“Wait, how do you know I wasn’t supposed to have any visitors? I did too have visitors!” But by then they were at the gates to Elijah’s ward, and the vampire handed him over to the guards there, threw him a jaunty little wave, and stalked away.

23

Alyss’ heart sank when the Cadre reconvened and he heard a faint, familiar voice coming from the chamber as he drew close. “No, oh, no.”

He couldn’t rush in, his guards wouldn’t let him, so instead he stayed back with a sparse crowd of people, none of whom he recognized aside from Jessamy and the Hummingbird. And, of course, Kliman, who faced the Cadre with calm composure as they spoke.

“Have we not wasted enough time in this matter?” Aegaeon was asking. “How many more people are we going to have chattering on today? The boy is guilty, he admits it freely.”

“He is only guilty if we agree that the laws he has broken are true and right as they are written,” Elijah countered mildly. “It could be said that in claiming a flaw inherent in the vampiric contract and Making, he is defending himself.” His tone became almost casual. “It’s a pretty good defense, to be fair.”

“It is criminal behavior all the same. Unless we want to inspire vampires to run from their contracts? What need for the Guild, then? Let them run wild, slaughter the human population. What do we care?”

“Security found your friend,” a familiar voice rumbled behind Alyss, the guards making no effort to shoo the vampire away. The angel turned briefly to look at him, but his attention was fretfully riveted on Kliman, looking so tiny at the center of the chamber. “He’s being watched. He claims you have something of his.”

That did get Alyss’ attention, and he felt his entire body go tight. “He can present a bloody contract for authentication, then,” he replied sharply. He caught sight of the Hummingbird saying something to Jessamy and a severe-looking angel with wings of dark gold edged in black. “And then he can bite my whole ass.”

“The whole point being made is that the Guild is as necessary as the efforts Alyss has put forth,” Raphael replied in counter to Aegaeon, his tone tight. “Alyss himself made that point. In analyzing the information he has provided, I am forced to agree with him.”

Alyss cringed. “Oh, that’s going to get him in trouble with his Consort.”

The vampire next to him made a low, amused sound. “Those are his Consort’s words he’s repeating. Which she growled out at him after he told her of your meeting earlier and gave her all those documents you sent him.”

Alyss turned to face him, incredulous. “Who are you?”

“I will not decide on something as serious as an angel’s execution without giving due consideration to every part of this matter!” Titus exclaimed. “Already the information he has given me shows this behavior isn’t just abhorrent, it’s widespread, and it’s old. Discipline is one thing. This is… a sickness.”

“Then perhaps you should have not looked at the data,” the Archangel of Central Europe declared.

“Do you persist on ignoring the matter, Aegaeon?” Caliane demanded.

“There is no matter to ignore. Don’t presume to tell me how to deal with my affairs.”

“No. But a majority vote does.” Her voice pitched to carry, the oldest of the Ancients declared impassively, “I would hear the evidence Kliman offers on behalf of Alyss.”

“So would I,” Alexander looked deeply thoughtful, and deeply troubled. The other votes came almost simultaneously.

Alyss saw Lilah move forward with a podium and a laptop. Kliman waited for the vampire to finish whatever she was doing and offer a nod, and thanked her before turning to the Council. “You have heard Alyss’ words,” she began. “And that is more than I ever thought could be achieved when I was doing the work he does. Yes, the knowledge you can’t read from his mind you can probably pluck from mine. I’m older, but I’m no Archangel. And I don’t think in numbers.” She smiled fleetingly. “But I know some of you are beginning to see how deep this rot has spread while the rest of us sat in comfort, hoping that the rest of our brethren were, if not good, at least decent.” She glanced at Aegaeon, then at Raphael. “Old age does not oblige any of us to be good. I think we very recently learned that lesson quite well.”

“Get on with it,” Aegaeon gritted out.

“I want you to hear from those Alyss helped.”

“No -!” Alyss tried to surge forward, but the vampire had caught him even before his angelic guards could, his grip implacable and unbreakable. “No, she can’t! Kliman!”

The older angel turned to hear her name called. She didn’t look surprised to see Alyss struggling to get to her. “All of them agreed,” she declared to the assembly, leaving Alyss so surprised he stopped struggling. “Every last one of them. Being caught is not nearly as important to them as making sure what happened to them never happens to anyone else.”

“Oh, but -” Alyss fretted with a low, inarticulate sound.

“I’m sure some part of you is occasionally worried about your own continued existence, Alyss, not just everyone else’s,” the vampire told him, astonished and amused in equal parts.

Alyss strained in his grip. The vampire might as well be made of steel.

“You want to let go of my bird,” a low, low growl suddenly came from a man who’d just stepped past one of the guards with absurd, inhuman grace. He wasn’t armed, he couldn’t be, not so deep in the Refuge, but he radiated menace like a small sun.

Alyss’ breath stuttered out of him; the world, so grim and frightening until a moment ago, when it seemed like he had no more agency than a lamb among wolves, burst into colors and life. “Jean!”

The vampire holding onto the young angel turned very slowly to look at the new arrival. “I don’t think we’ve -”

“I know who you are. I don’t give a fuck. You can kill me easy, we both know that. But it won’t be clean, and it won’t be quiet.” Jean smiled ferally. “Because I’ll make sure of it. Let go of my bird.”

“And you are?”

“His Second.”

“Then you can keep him from interrupting, can’t you?”

Jean held the other vampire’s eyes for a long moment before he sighed, something very like his familiar exasperation showing in his lean features. He dropped his head and rubbed at his forehead before looking up and facing the angel. “Alyss.”

“She’s going to reveal them!” Alyss protested feebly, caught between his joy at seeing Jean and knowing, by that tone, that the vampires were in agreement. “To the Cadre!”

“They know.” Jean slipped in front of him. The guards, at a nod from the other vampire, had fallen back. “Bird, come here.” He touched lightly Alyss’ face and whispered, “I’m sorry. There’s not enough words to tell you how sorry I am. I just want you to stay put. Just that and I’ll take whatever comes after, alright?”

Alyss twittered in wordless, defeated protest.

“He’ll behave,” Jean told the other vampire, who let go of Alyss.

As soon as he was free, the angel crashed into his vampire, holding him as tight as he could. Jean, caught unprepared, staggered briefly back before he could wrap his arms around the angel. “My bird. My sunflower.”

“Why are you here, why did you come? You were supposed to stay safe in Boston!” Alyss protested, even as he kissed the taller man.

“I’ve never been safe a day in my life, Alyss. I don’t need to be safe, I need you.” He pulled away to look at that delicate face, the dark hollows beneath the sweet brown eyes. Every time he caught a glimpse of what had been done to his angel’s wings he felt a cold, black fury come up inside him and try to choke him. “I didn’t mean a single word I said back at the lodge. I let my nightmares run away with my mouth. I’m sorry.”

“No, but you don’t understand, Moissani’s here. He knows I know of you, he knows. I, he made me angry and I punched him, but even when I thought I wasn’t saying anything he still figured things out and I -”

“Wait, you what?” For a moment, the mere mention of that name had made the whole world shrink to nothing, turn into a devouring, laughing void. It lasted about as long as it took for the rest of Alyss’ words to sink in, shattering the darkness so thoroughly Jean wasn’t sure it’d be able to put itself back together again. “You punched him?”

“Um.”

“Ah,” the other vampire said conversationally. “You must be the one who inspired that whole ‘bite my whole ass’ thing.”

Jean looked between the two of them. “Alyss doesn’t swear.”

“Um.”

“The angel I met sure does. Now shush, we’re beginning to get looks.”

Beyond mortified, Alyss would have hidden under his wings and attempted to disappear if he could. Unable to do so, instead he buried his face against Jean’s chest. The scent of his vampire, so familiar, so dear, finally drowned out the nearly overpowering scent of ancient predator from the other vampire. Jean’s arms came around him once again, holding him close.

They listened, the Cadre and the people gathered with them, as vampire after vampire came online, unafraid, determined. As each of them described horrors beyond number. Many of them had prepared themselves for a hard life; they expected nothing less than the most rigid discipline. “You take a dragon into your veins,” one of them said, “you expect learning to ride it will be hard and bloody. Seventy five years didn’t teach me shit about my dragon.” He looked haunted in the tiny screen. “They taught me only that nothing I ever did, that no matter how I obeyed, my only reward would be torture.”

“I was never going to be free,” the Finnish woman spoke in heavily accented English, her voice terribly devoid of emotion. “Every effort Kolia put forth was meant to break me. If my body was busy healing, he would abuse my mind. If both were unfit, I was cuffed to the floor until one healed enough to serve. There was no end. His harem, they are all like that. It is less trouble and better profits.”

“I know hard work. I knew I was in for a fight.” The young man spoke angry Spanish, translated by an angel with pale cream wings splotched with tan and gold. “But I thought I had at least a chance. If nothing I can do is good enough, then tell me! Teach me! Don’t just starve me and lock me up in a barrel for your buddies to play soccer with!”

And so it went, until suddenly the build-up of archangelic anger and energy caused the computer to spit out sparks and black out with a sad little sound.

“These people could be anyone. Paid to say such things.” Zanaya looked furious, but her words were a transparent attempt at seeing two sides of the issue when in truth she’d been leaning already towards one. The words of the Finnish vampire had touched something in her that was whispering and would not be silenced.

“Then allow me to present to you one of those vampires, here, in the flesh.”

“Here, take him,” Jean said quietly.

Alyss was slipped from one vampire’s arms into another’s grip before he knew what had happened. “Wait, what?” By the time he realized what was going on, Jean was next to Kliman. “No!”

“Do you want to tell him what he can and can’t do with his life?” the other vampire asked quietly as he held onto the struggling angel, his voice full of dark, unspoken intensity. “You can.” The words surprised the angel into holding still and actually listening. “I’m almost sure he’d do what you asked. But he might never get another chance to face his demons. Give him this. He needs it.”

“But Moissani’s here somewhere!” Alyss twisted frantically against that unbreakable grip.

“And if what you’ve said is true, he’s not gonna touch your vampire, Alyss. I promise. Not ever again.”

Kliman had stepped back to give Jean the Cadre’s full attention. The vampire stood there, staring at the floor, breathing a little ragged. “Well, you’ve heard all that and you’re not impressed. Can’t say I’m surprised, but in my world most angels never cared anyway.” With a sudden burst of movement he yanked off his jacket and the long-sleeved shirt he wore, and threw them aside. “Last time someone saw me without a shirt on was a year ago, give or take, a pure accident. No one sees me. No one touches me. I can’t stand it. It feels like the goddamn scalpel all over again.” The grid of scars gleamed whitely in the lights of the chamber. Around his neck there was a plain cord. He grabbed it and twisted to his back the blood-dipped, amber-colored feather, then spread his arms and turned slowly, letting them all see the extent of the scarring.

Alyss went limp in the vampire’s grip at the sight of the feather.

“Who did this?” Suyin asked, one of her hands gone to a tight fist. “Who is your Maker, who holds your contract?”

“There was no contract. I was a ditch-digger in the French Territories four hundred years ago. I had three things going for me: I looked good, I knew how to fight, and three separate outbreaks of god-knows-what had failed to kill me. That was enough to perk up the feelers of a little plague doctor living in Africa under Charisemnon’s aegis.” He paused as the Council’s attention sharpened. “God, he made it sound good, you know? I drank something on this side of the pond and woke up in his stronghold, already Made. Clean clothes, clean food, all the learning I never thought I’d have. Training, supposedly to become part of his guard. He made it sound like Christmas had come early and I just hadn’t noticed. He could’ve given me a contract and I wouldn’t have been able to read it, let alone sign it.”

Jean spat out the poison of his tale, the things he’d never been able to tell anyone, not even Alyss. The centuries spent being carved into a grid, so much so that even vampiric healing couldn’t rid him of the scars. Of disease and poison being cultivated on every inch of him, studied, dissected, tested, tempered. Of attempting escape twice, and failing. Of escaping a third time only because he’d had help. “It was easy for him,” he explained when Raphael asked. “Just break a coupla necks, say it was me. With the price he offered, Hunters tripped over themselves to bring me back.”

By the time he was done talking he was so exhausted his brogue had begun to take over his voice. “Far as I know, I’m the only one in the pipeline,” he admitted. “The only one without a contract what’s got away. Y'all want to believe your people are… fair.” The vampire smiled humorlessly. “No. You want to believe vampires are treated right, hard, but right. Hell, no. Do I think you’re goin’ to fix this? A year ago, I woulda said no. But I’ve met a few angels since that honestly seem to give a damn. One, a fluke, two, an exception. Three?” He glanced at Alyss. “Yeah, three sold me on it. But I’ll be honest. I’m expecting y'all to prove me wrong.”

“I hold Charisemnon’s territory now, vampire,” Zanaya said quietly. “It is my duty to right his wrongs. So take this with you. I can do nothing for the horrors you faced or the injustice you’ve survived, but this much I can do: let the Cadre bear witness, four hundred years is enough. If there had been one, consider your contract fulfilled. You are free.”

[readymades2002]

lilstinky

  you 

IS THIS FROM SOMETHING??????

YEA!!!!! VERY end of this yewchube video!!!

[perpetual-stories]

22 Essential Literary Devices and How to Use Them In Your Writing

hello, happy Monday. Hope you’re all having a wonderful day!

I will skip the pre-info and dive right into it.

What Is a Literary Device?

is a tool used by writers to hint at larger themes, ideas, and meaning in a story or piece of writing

The List of Literary Devices:

Allegory. Allegory is a literary device used to express large, complex ideas in an approachable manner. Allegory allows writers to create some distance between themselves and the issues they are discussing, especially when those issues are strong critiques of political or societal realities.

Allusion. An allusion is a popular literary device used to develop characters, frame storylines, and help create associations to well-known works. Allusions can reference anything from Victorian fairy tales and popular culture to the Bible and the Bard. Take the popular expression “Bah humbug”—an allusion that references Charles Dickens’ novella A Christmas Carol. The phrase, which is often used to express dissatisfaction, is associated with the tale’s curmudgeonly character, Ebenezer Scrooge.

Anachronism. Imagine reading a story about a caveman who microwaves his dinner, or watching a film adaptation of a Jane Austen novel in which the characters text each other instead of writing letters. These circumstances are examples of anachronisms, or an error in chronology—the kind that makes audiences raise their eyebrows or do a double-take. Sometimes anachronisms are true blunders; other times, they’re used intentionally to add humor or to comment on a specific time period in history.

Cliffhanger. It’s a familiar feeling: You’re on minute 59 of an hour-long television episode, and the protagonist is about to face the villain—and then episode cuts to black. Known as a cliffhanger, this plot device marks the end of a section of a narrative with the express purpose of keeping audiences engaged in the story.

Dramatic Irony. Remember the first time you read or watched Romeo and Juliet? The tragic ending of this iconic story exemplifies dramatic irony: The audience knows that the lovers are each alive, but neither of the lovers knows that the other is still alive. Each drinks their poison without knowing what the audience knows. Dramatic irony is used to great effect in literature, film, and television.

Extended Metaphor. Extended metaphors build evocative images into a piece of writing and make prose more emotionally resonant. Examples of extended metaphor can be found across all forms of poetry and prose. Learning to use extended metaphors in your own work will help you engage your readers and improve your writing.

Foreshadowing. At its core, storytelling has one ambition: to capture and sustain your reader’s attention and keep them reading your story. Foreshadowing, or slyly indicating a future event, is one technique a writer can use to create and build suspense.

Humor. Humor brings people together and has the power to transform how we think about the world. Of course, not everyone is adept at being funny—particularly in their writing. Making people laugh takes some skill and finesse, and, because so much relies on instinct, is harder to teach than other techniques. However, all writers can benefit from learning more about how humor functions in writing.

Imagery. If you’ve practiced or studied creative writing, chances are you’ve encountered the expression “paint a picture with words.” In poetry and literature, this is known as imagery: the use of figurative language to evoke a sensory experience in the reader. When a poet uses descriptive language well, they play to the reader’s senses, providing them with sights, tastes, smells, sounds, internal and external feelings, and even deep emotion. The sensory details in imagery bring works to life.

Irony. Irony is an oft-misunderstood literary device that hinges on opposites: what things are on the surface, and what they end up actually being. Many learn about dramatic irony through works of theater like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet or Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex. When deployed with skill, irony is a powerful tool that adds depth and substance to a piece of writing.

Metaphor, Simile, and Analogy. Metaphors, similes, and analogies are three techniques used in speech and writing to make comparisons. Each is used in a different way, and differentiating between the three can get a little tricky: For example, a simile is actually a subcategory of metaphor, which means all similes are metaphors, but not all metaphors are similes. Knowing the similarities and differences between metaphor, simile, and analogy can help you identify which is best to use in any scenario and help make your writing stronger.

Motif. A motif is a repeated element that has symbolic significance to a story. Sometimes a motif is a recurring image. Sometimes it’s a repeated word or phrase or topic. A motif can be a recurrent situation or action. It can be a sound or a smell or a temperature or a color. The defining aspect is that a motif repeats, and through this repetition, a motif helps to illuminate the central ideas, themes, and deeper meaning of the story in which it appears.

Motif vs. Symbol. Both motifs and symbols are used across artistic mediums: Painters, sculptors, playwrights, and musicians all use motifs and symbols in their respective art forms. And while they are similar literary terms, “motif” and “symbol” are not synonyms.

Oxymoron. An oxymoron is a figure of speech: a creative approach to language that plays with meaning and the use of words in a non-literal sense. This literary device combines words with contradictory definitions to coin a new word or phrase (think of the idiom “act naturally”—how can you be your natural self if you’re acting?). The incongruity of the resulting statement allows writers to play with language and meaning.

Paradox. “This sentence is a lie.” This self-referential statement is an example of a paradox—a contradiction that questions logic. In literature, paradoxes can elicit humor, illustrate themes, and provoke readers to think critically.

Personification. In writing, figurative language—using words to convey a different meaning outside the literal one—helps writers express themselves in more creative ways. One popular type of figurative language is personification: assigning human attributes to a non-human entity or inanimate object in an effort to express a point or idea in a more colorful, imaginative way.

Satire. Satire is so prevalent in pop culture that most of us are already very familiar with it, even if we don’t always realize it. Satire is an often-humorous way of poking fun at the powers that be. Sometimes, it is created with the goal to drive social change. Satire can be part of any work of culture, art, or entertainment—it has a long history, and it is as relevant today as it was in ancient Rome.

Situational Irony. Irony: it’s clear as mud. Theorists quibble about the margins of what constitutes irony, but situational irony is all around us—from humorous news headlines to the shock twists in a book or TV show. This type of irony is all about the gap between our expectations and reality, and it can make a memorable and powerful impression when we encounter it.

Suspense. No matter what type of story you’re telling, suspense is a valuable tool for keeping a reader’s attention and interest. Building suspense involves withholding information and raising key questions that pique readers’ curiosity. Character development plays a big role in generating suspense; for example, if a character’s desire is not fulfilled by the end of the book, the story will not feel complete for the reader.

Symbolism. An object, concept, or word does not have to be limited to a single meaning. When you see red roses growing in a garden, what comes to mind? Perhaps you think literally about the rose—about its petals, stem, and thorns, or even about its stamen and pistil as a botanist might. But perhaps your mind goes elsewhere and starts thinking about topics like romance, courtship, and Valentine’s Day. Why would you do this? The reason, of course, is that over the course of many generations, a rose’s symbolic meaning has evolved to include amorous concepts.

Verisimilitude. Verisimilitude (pronounced ve-ri-si-mi-li-tude) is a theoretical concept that determines the semblance of truth in an assertion or hypothesis. It is also an essential tenet of fiction writing. Verisimilitude helps to encourage a reader’s willing suspension of disbelief. When using verisimilitude in writing, the goal is to be credible and convincing.

Vignette. A writer’s job is to engage readers through words. Vignettes—poetic slices-of-life—are a literary device that brings us deeper into a story. Vignettes step away from the action momentarily to zoom in for a closer examination of a particular character, concept, or place. Writers use vignettes to shed light on something that wouldn’t be visible in the story’s main plot.

I’ll make a post going into each of them individually in more detail later on!

Like, reblog and comment if you find this useful! If you share on Instagram tag me perpetualstories

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[missrubybird]

TS4 Cottage Living Sims Part 2

Here are some more country folk to populate Henford-on-Bagley! Thank you again to the EA Game Changer Program for making this content possible! All these Sims have backstories which intertwine with each other and those of the Sims of Part 1.

Below the cut you’ll find:

Individual Download Links for the Sims

As well as a Zip File containing all the Sims

Sims’ Backstories and Traits

CC Links

All Sims have all 8 Outfits using only CL and Basegame except for those Sims with pets, those require Cats&Dogs as well, obvs..

Note: There is CC included in the Download Files, make sure to put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below! ♥️

Have fun!   🐮 ♥️ 🐇 ♥️ 🐥  

CC LINKS:  Lashes // Skintone // SkinDetails // Jake’s Glasses

Credits: @cienzroza @kijiko-sims @annamsblue @pyxiidis @tamo-sim @squeamishsims @berryconfetti @vibrantpixels @vegantrait @rheallsim @simbience Thank you to @maxismatchccworld for reblogging ♥️

Note: You need the No EA Eyelashes Mod by Cienzroza for the Sims to look exactly like they do in the pictures!

➞ Cottage Living Sims Part 1

DOWNLOAD ALL SIMS HERE or individual Links below

Sim Links from Top to Bottom:

Melanie Koenig

YA // Quick Learner // Cheerful // Bookworm // Clumsy

You might think that being the local nerdy librarian and a former teacher’s pet (which her peers always resented her a bit for) means life wasn’t always easy for Melanie. Granted, she is one smart cookie but her people skills never were the best. And yet, while Melanie definitely is a bit awkward, she also has a very sunny disposition and there is very little that can dampen her spirits. She loves reading and has a huge collection of books that she adds to regularly, although the classics are her favorite. And she does prefer watching old Hollywood films on her couch with Pete her cat but every once in a blue moon when Melanie closes the library for the night, she lets Milly and Sabina drag her to the pub for a spot of karaoke.

Bella Teeluck

YA // Quick Learner // Music Lover // Childish // Neat

Bella, like Melanie, was always a good student but what Melanie lacks in people skills, Bella has in abundance. She’s especially popular with the elementary students she teaches because she starts every lesson with a song and she’s never lost the joy of playing with kids’ toys. Bella loves children and they love her because they sense that Bella is still a kid at heart. Music is very important to her and she will often get out the guitar and play pop songs while her nb kid Robin dances and sings along. And sometimes, when he has closed up the shop, Bella’s brother Jonas comes over and joins in, to the great joy of Robin, because Jonas always brings along a new children’s book.

Jake Rowland

YA // Essence of Flavor // Lazy // Bookworm // Jealous

Oh, Jake.. See, here’s the thing with Jake: Jake is majorly in love with Jonas, the local what’sitshop owner, and they have been on and off for a while but Jonas is just a bit too much of a free spirit to believe in monogamy, much to the dismay of Jake, who, let’s be honest, wants Jonas all to himself. And it could all be so perfect, because they both love to cook and they share a great passion for a good story. But Jonas can’t quite be tied down and Jake spends a lot of his time thinking of ways to convince his friend to settle down together (although Jake does like living with his sister Milly because she doesn’t mind when he slacks on his chores.. yet again). Oh, and Jake is not at all too keen on the looks that newcomer Cai is giving Jonas every time he visits the shop!

Kamilah Sabry

Adult // Domestic // Self-Assured // Ambitious // Family-Oriented

Kamilah is the proud mom of recent university graduate Cai and she’s the mayor of Henford-on-Bagley where many say she’s the best mayor the little town has ever seen. Kamilah is a power house and a doer and ‘impossible’ is not in her vocabulary! There is a lot to be done and, by golly, will it be done, if it weren’t for a certain prominent senior Henford-on-Bagley citizen, the formidable Lilly Lindgren, who seems to fancy herself a bit of a deputy mayor. The two can often be seen around town, with Lilly talking to or rather at Kamilah, giving her (unsolicited) advice and telling her how things should or shouldn’t be run and if Kamilah weren’t such a diplomat, she might just tell Lilly to shove it where the sun.. flowers don’t grow.

Prof. Saatvik Acharya

Elder // Gregarious // Cheerful // Genius // Perfectionist

Ah, yes, what would Henford-on-Bagley be without Professor Acharya, another one of the town’s staples. He still holds the occasional lecture at Britechester University but these days he prefers working in his lush garden where he cultivates the most exquisite roses, envy of many a hobby botanist around, and where he can be found playing chess and contemplating the meaning of life with Sabina or Herbert on many a lazy afternoon. Saatvik has a witty and warm sense of humor and even reclusive Delphine doesn’t mind when he comes by to chat about her roses, not only because Saatvik is so charming but also because he’s gentleman enough to leave a lady’s secrets alone. Quite unlike Lilly, who is always on everybody’s case but Saatvik and Delphine alike know well enough to hide behind their rose bushes when Lilly comes by.

Herbert Birch

YA // Muser // Gloomy // Foodie // Lactose Intolerant

Poor Herbert. Life really did a number on him when it made him lactose intolerant because, see, Herbert is a dairy farmer like his parents before him and their parents before.. you get the drift. Herbert only found out recently about his affliction but at least now he knows why he’s always been so, uhm, bloated. It’s a bit of a tragedy because Herbert loves blue cheese like no one else but he also likes writing poems ~ Herbert is a bit of a sensitive soul ~ and dreams of publishing them as none of his friends have the heart to tell him that they’re not very good. So, clueless Herbert milks his cows, composing in his mind a poem to win over Rosa, the pretty girl with the raven hair and the strawberry earrings. Maybe his friend Milly can put in a good word for him! 

Sabina Buckland

YA // Collector // Animal Enthusiast // Vegetarian // Outgoing

Sabina is a true child of nature, she lives at the edge of the forest and will often be found wandering the woods, talking to the animals and collecting what nature has to offer. You might think she’s a loner but Sabina loves people and she will always stop by the Prof’s cottage for a casual musing about the universe and how the stars are aligning that day, cheer up Herbert as he fusses over his newest tragic poem and have some coffee with Jonas who she sells the crystals and fossils to that she finds on her wanderings. Yet, for all her approachability there is something a little mysterious about Sabina and the town folk sure wonder why the mushrooms around her little house grow so abnormally large, winning the Finchwick Fair Competition five years in a row!

Note: There is CC included in the Download Files, make sure to put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked above!

[thencitytales]

Essay writing - JHS

🌷 Pairing: Johnny Suh of NCT x gn!reader

🌷 wc: 1.5k

🌷 Fluffy Fluff

🌷Warnings: I think there are none, let me know if I'm wrong!

🌷Hello again my friends! Finally wrote something new! Reader I awfully late on assignments and Johnny is ready to help! Hope you enjoy! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

(image found on Pinterest, creds to the rightful owners)

A blank slate.

It was 11.30 PM and you were staring at a blank document that had to be turned in, in half an hour. 

You fucked up. 

You fucked up bad this time. 

No cup of coffee could’ve helped you. 

In under half an hour you had to write at least 5000 words on a topic you had no idea about. An essay that was worth 50% of your grade. And your crush comfortably lying in your bed.

“It’s not going to write itself Y/N”

“Thanks for the insight, Johnny. I must’ve gotten the wrong model of computer, how silly of me!” You turned around and saw him sprawled out on your bed in all his majesty with his grey sweatpants and his favorite hoodie. He smiled and winked at you.

“Listen it’s not like you have to turn it in at exactly midnight, do you?” He said calmly.

“Are you an idiot or do you just ask stupid questions for a living?” He chuckled at your sarcasm, a thing he had come to like during the short period of your friendship.

“What I mean is, you can take your time and then say you had problems with the wi-fi or something. It’s going to be a matter of a couple of hours anyways.” He just stared at you after finishing his sentence, expectantly.

You pondered what he just said. 

Despite what everybody said, Mr. Yoon was not all that bad. You’re sure he would’ve let it slide. 

You looked back at Johnny.

“True,” You said.

“C’mon,” He said getting up and reaching for the stool at the side of your bed. He positioned himself next to you, at your desk. 

“I’ll help you.”

“Aren’t you here to see Jaehyun?” Johnny was one of your roommates’ best friends after all, so there wasn’t a single chance he was here for you. 

You basically only saw each other during lectures and at some of the parties that his frat organized. He was just your silly little crush. Nothing serious at all.

“Is he here?” Johnny knew Jaehyun wasn’t. He got stuck at his job at the grocery store when his boss asked him to revise the inventory that one of the new kids made. Which was, of course, full of errors and he had to redo it from scratch.

“Well, he should be here any minute now.” You answered back oblivious of how busy the boy actually was. A glint of sadness could be seen in your eyes, it was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“Well, he can wait. I feel like this is more urgent.” You smiled, happy about his answer and about spending more time with him.

“Besides, you’re prettier. Spending time with you is more enjoyable, even just for that.” 

He knew what he did. He saw the natural blush creeping up your cheeks and he was having a blast. 

Not only because he liked having this effect on girls. 

He especially liked having this effect on you.

He liked you very much. Like very, very much. You were the only girl in a long time that didn’t bluntly try to flirt with him. You were just able to, somehow, be yourself.

The truth is that after a while you just gave up on trying to impress him because you saw how many prettier girls were flirting with him and lost the will to even try.

Johnny also liked your sense of humor. It wasn’t quite like his but they completed each other well. You laughed at most of his jokes (not all of them, that’s important for him). You laughed because you found them genuinely funny and not just because you wanted him to think you thought he was funny, like any other pick-me girl.

And last but not least, he found you so damn beautiful. 

The other girls really had nothing on you in his eyes. He couldn’t quite understand where it all came from. 

He just remembers that, at one of those infamous parties, you were both drunk, out on the lawn with Jaehyun and his girlfriend. Out of nowhere, fireworks started to explode in the distance giving you a free show. You were looking at them wide-eyed with the brightest smile on your face, almost stuck in a trance. Johnny turned to look at you and just couldn’t turn back to the pyrotechnic show.

You were the best show he could enjoy right at that moment.

“Thank you, you are prettier than Jaehyun too.” He stays silent for a moment, taken aback.

“That’s not what you usually tell me!” He nudged you with his elbow, a smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m trying to be nice, just like you. Besides, I am taking a risk by boosting your ego this much, it’s already pretty big, I might regret it later.” He chuckled. 

This is what he liked about your friendship. The fact that you could bicker with one another freely. 

Sadly, as previously stated, it was just a friendship.

He knew he had some sort of effect on you, but he thought it was just because you found him attractive. After all, he was undeniably handsome, whoever said the contrary would have been lying and everybody knew that.

So he would tease you, making you blush and whatnot and his heart told him that maybe that meant he had a chance at something serious with you, but his head told him it was just his overall appearance.

On the other side, there was you. Hopelessly in love. Extremely in denial.

You had your feelings hurt before. By frat guys. By J names. You mention it, somebody that fits the description probably broke your heart already.

So at this point, you’re pretty good at not getting your hopes up. Or at least your head is. Your heart still has to receive the message.

With both of your minds working at full capacity, about three cups of coffee each and a Red Bull for Johnny alone, that he chugged all in one big sip, In about an hour and a half the essay was done. It was not the best, but it was good enough. 

You quickly scribbled an email with a streak of excuses and sent everything to Mr. Yoon.

Johnny laid back down on your bed.

“You know, I might have to make you pay rent if you stay on my bed for another minute.” You said to him.

“Well, only if you agree to split it with me” He shot you a wink, his flirty side coming out every chance he got. 

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense” You said, thinking about his words.

“Just come here, will you?” He patted the free space next to him. 

Something in his tone was different. It wasn’t as flirty as before. It sounded like he meant it, like he wanted you right by his side.

You got up from your chair, after closing the laptop, and went to lay beside him. 

He welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug. 

“What are you doing?” You chuckled trying to get out of his grip, but that only made him tighten his arms even more.

Suddenly, you both came to a still when you realized how close you two actually were. It’s not like you never hugged before, but this time it felt different. Something about the way you two were behaving right now felt so domestic.

So right.

He moved without thinking. His muscles were doing the work for him. Hands changing position, one sliding down to your waist and the other coming up to cup your face.

You were still, trying to process everything that was happening. What you were feeling, what he was feeling and what both of you wanted to happen next. 

And then, at the same time, you closed the space between you. Lips crashing in an awkward, but still romantic kiss. He tried to adjust the angle, to make it a bit more comfortable, but as soon as his lips were off of yours, you laughed.

“What?” He asked, not sure how to feel. Was it wrong? Did he make a mistake?

“I heard stories about how good a kisser you are, but that was awful, Suh.”

“Oh my God, I hate you so much” He started laughing as well and threw a pillow at you.

“No you don’t” You quickly moved closer to him once again.

“But you’re lucky, I don’t hate you either” You finished your sentence with a peck on his lips.

Right at that moment, the door to your room swung open.

“I HATE MY BOSS, I HATE THAT KID, WHERE THE HELL IS JOHNNY HE SAID HE WAS STILL HERE” Jaehyun started ranting about his day, but quickly came to a halt seeing the two of you.

“Really? My roommate? Johnny, I have no words left for you, now please, would you come to my aid? Really need to play some games or something.” He said exiting the door.

“That was a nice monologue.” Johnny looked at you.

“And I’m just so lucky there’s at least another hour of that for me” He said getting up and following his best friend.

“I’ll wait for you here!” You said smilig.

“I think I like the sound of that.

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

[caffiend-queen]

Top 5 Comfort Characters

I copied this from the lovely @wine-and-whines because the reblog was getting really long...

wine-and-whines

Very interesting thread and thank you for tagging me, @mareebird! I haven’t honestly thought of comfort characters or personal faves for many a good year. I honestly don’t think I’ve had a pure “comfort” character but I definitely can rank a few favorites I’ll catch in movies / tv series / books.

1. Elena "Lenù" Greco (My Brilliant Friend / Elena Ferrante) -- One of the few characters through whom I’ve experienced a similar friendship and struggle since I lost a friend two years ago and it still kills me. I really recommend the TV series.

2. Harry Potter - I miss those midnight parties ...

3. Charlotte (or Samantha) / Sex & the City ... gotta be honest. They are both my spirit animals depending on the day. Sweet and spicy :)

4. Princess Leia / Han Solo / Obi Wan Kenobi - loved those three in particular

5. Loki ... not necessarily for comfort but for the journey (and ... Tom ..fine only Tom ;-)

What say you @winterisakiller, @myoxisbroken, @caffiend-queen, @finchbaggins, @shiningloki, @regentofjotunheim .. and anyone else :)

Thank you, my dear @wine-and-whines! Also, always for Tom. This is a given.

1. Loki:  Always. In every form and incarnation. He is my true and forever love. Whatever is happening outside the story or series or film I’m immersed in does not matter for those perfect moments he is with me.

2. James Bucky Barnes: He is beautiful and noble in a way that no other Marvel character is. Aside from Loki, he has suffered the most. But he still shows up. And I want him to find a nice girl (or guy, or girl and guy, I’m not fussy) he adores and beeeee happpyyy.... (Excuse me as I weep brokenly for a moment.)

3. Thomas the Tank Engine: Yeah, I know this sounds fucked up but hear me out: my twins have autism, and even though they're teenagers now, one of my boys will pull up a Thomas episode on YouTube after a hard day and it is magically calming. I associate Thomas with the release of fear, or frustration or sadness.

4.  Frøya from The Norsemen: This is classic Norwegian comedy in a way that is so Norwegian that I will laugh uncontrollably but everyone with me does not get it. After living in Oslo and Bergen for a year, I totally love their sense of humor.  Frøya is the classic Norsk beauty who beats the living fuck out of any man who tries to challenge her. In fact, she knocks out one idiot and then grinds herself to an orgasm while sitting on his unconscious face. I know it’s weird, but I just love her. She’s honorable and good in an appallingly brutal, matter of fact way.

5. Johnny Rose from Schitt’s Creek: This man was brought about as low as you can go, but he shows up every day in his nicely tailored jackets and finds new ways to support his wildly neurotic family. He shows up. The most comforting thing ever.

Yeah, I’m guessing I added way too much exposition here, but...

So! @nildespirandum​ @imanuglywombat​ @kimanne723​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @thedarkplume​​ @lokislastlove​ @gotnofucks​ @cockslut-padalecki​ @threeminutesoflife​ and @syntheticavenger​, and anyone else who’d like to play, who are your five comfort characters?

[nimata-beroya]

I was reluctant to write this post but I need to get it out of my chest. I know that the larger a fandom is, the more dramatic it gets. That's the case with Star Wars. In the past few weeks, the negative discourse in the TTB fandom has gotten to my nerves.

I fail to understand why some people waste their time and energy on something that doesn't bring them joy. They could simply step away and focus on something else. I'm not saying that they can not criticize the show's flaws, which it has… many of them, but if it's that all they do all day long, then it's not worth it! What's more, with their negativity they sour the experience of others that do enjoy the show.

Neither is the need to bash characters with baseless arguments, only because the show takes a different route than what people want. It's not your story to tell, it's Dave's and of the rest of the writers involved. It's THEIR vision.

This is going to be a long post, so I'll put the rest below the cut. If you think you'll feel attacked by what I'm talking about, please scroll past it and move along. You don't need to read it.

First, I want to talk about both Hunter's and Crosshair's radical stans. To love one character doesn't mean you're justified to trash the other. They all need to understand that BOTH CHARACTERS are in an impossible situation and do their best with what they got. BOTH ARE VICTIMS OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES. VICTIMS OF THE EMPIRE.

My blood boils every time I see someone, often Hunter's radical stans, saying that Crosshair is bad, the villain. *Breathe in, count to 10, breathe out* Aren't they watching the same show as the rest of us? Did they forget that he has an inhibitor chip implanted in his head, which is activated? Not only that but don't they remember that the Kaminoans tweaked with it at Tarkin's orders? Several times?! CROSSHAIR IS BEING CONTROLLED AGAINST HIS WILL. Everything he's done so far is literally not his fault.

Crosshair's caustic personality is not enough to make him a villain. Even before the chip activated, he was a jerk and a bit insensitive sometimes, yes, but that doesn't make him a bad person. He's just human. He also has a dry sense of humor, he's extremely proud of his brothers even when he taunts them, he can show compassion. Could the activation of the chip exacerbate the worst bits of his personality? Possibly. But it's beyond his control. How can anyone blame him for that?

And the "Villain" label is wrongly used on Cross, let me tell you. Crosshair is an ANTAGONIST, not a villain. If you want to know the difference between those terms, then you should read what I said in this reblog on a post from @rebekadjarin.

The only way I can accept to call Crosshair a villain is in the event of after removing his inhibitor chip he decides on his FREE WILL and for EVIL REASONS to stay with the Empire and do bad things. In that case, I'll be the first to bitchslap him. Not a second before.

Let me tell you, Cross' radical stans aren't any better, calling for Hunter's head for leaving behind and not trying to rescue their beloved. *Breathe in, count to 10, breathe out* I would like for any of them to tell me when and how Hunter missed the opportunity to do the deed?

Let's recapitulate what has happened so far and see when The Batch could have gotten their brother back:

By the end of episode 1, the batch leaves Kamino believing that Cross turned on them. They didn't know about the chip yet so, to them, Cross was who did the betrayal. It was him who was gunning for them.

It's on episode 3 when they realize that Cross' behavior is influenced by the chip, but they're grounded on that moon because the Marauder needed repairs after the skirmish on Saleucami.

With the ship flying again, could have they gone back for their brother? Yeah, nope. That wasn't happening. They had no fuel, no food, no supplies, and even when Tech fixed the ship, I don't think it was at the top of its conditions to risk another round against Imperials and their guns. So they headed to Pantora and ran into Fennec Shand

Which led them to Ord Mantell to get information. At that time, found out who was that bounty hunter hot at their heels took precedence over helping a brother who, as far as they knew, was relatively safe. They were not, their little sister less than anyone else. So they made the deal with Cid

You could argue that they didn't need to accept the Corelia job to retrieve the tactical droid from the decommissioning facility, but Cid didn't give them much of a choice, tbh, and I have the feeling that they still needed money for the supplies that they didn't get in Pantora (shopping got a little short there didn't it?) The job was a bust because theY ended up giving the info to the Martez sisters.

By episode 7, Rex comes, and everyone goes to Bracca to take their implants out.

Until this point, the shadow of Crosshair gunning for them was distant and vague. But then…

Crosshair caught up with them and tried to kill them. (I do believe that Cross, even at this point, was fighting the chip. He doesn't miss shots ever, CT-9904 does. But the batch doesn't know that. They have a very fresh memory of Wrecker trying to kill them. They know that under the chip's influence no plea works. Even so, Hunter tries to talk to Cross. The batch does what they can to not get to the worst with him but neither want to die so they chose the best next thing.) They barely escape. Well, sort of.

Omega gets kidnapped by Cad Bane, Hunter gets injured. But they survive the day and get reunited

More now than ever, the batch knows how a great threat Crosshair is for them. He knows them too well and there are no unconventional tactics that would work on Crosshair. The batch is at s huge disadvantage, so what do they do? Run. Run, boy, run. Strategic retreat, let's call it. They go back home with the tails between their legs and Cid reminds them about the huge debt they got with her. They have no choice but to accept another job with which neither of them is happy about

To everyone's surprise, they find themselves free of debt, with money. Here could be the moment to get Cross back. Really? Do you think so? What should they have done? Go back to Kamino and waltz through the hallways full of brainwashed clones that would kill them on sight and say "Hey, haven't you seen a toothpick lover jerk around? We'd love to take him away from here". Yeah, that would've gone so well 🙄 Besides, Crosshair wasn't in Kamino, he was in Ryloth so their effort would've been wasted.

Indirect showdown with Crosshair in Ryloth. Barely escape, again.

So, seriously, tell me, when exactly was the opportunity to rescue Crosshair? And all this is without considering that Cross wouldn't go willingly with them, the several squads of troopers that are around him all the time. The Bad Batch is good but they know their limits. Rescue Crosshair, for much I'd love to see it happening way sooner, it was simply impossible.

And before I go, one final rant. This is about those who whined and whined about the "filler" episodes, especially last week's (1x13). Can you imagine how it would have been if Infested had been an intense episode considering that this week's killed us all?! And we got 2 more to endure, which I'm sure will utterly destroy us all. Yeah, I'm very glad that, despite everything, Dave does take care of us giving us a moment to breathe before launching us into the abyss of despair.

[miyuwuki]

CONGRATS ON THE FOLLOWER MILESTONE 🥳🎉

May I please have a KNB matchup?

I am darker skinned African American girl with very short (almost bald) black hair and brown eyes. I wear glasses, I’m 5’3”, and I love fashion and always make sure to dress my best whenever I leave the house.

As far as hobbies and interests go, I’m a mixed bag. My main passion is music and I love to listen to, create, and talk about music 24/7. I also love to roller skate, read, write, and debate about politics. I consider myself a scholar and I take my education very seriously, maintaining good grades but mostly thriving in English, History, and other classes of the sort. I work as a barista and I love my job.

For personality, I am a Libra and my personality is INFP. I’m very outspoken and have practically no filter, always voicing what’s on my mind. I’ve been told that I carry myself well and that I definitely don’t act my age. I also keep my head high and my confidence up at all times when I’m in public. I goof off a lot and constantly crack jokes and I would say I have a pretty dark sense of humor. I could be perfectly summed up as the “awkward black girl” if that makes sense. I hope this is enough and thank you once again! 🙏🏾❤️

a/n: hello and thank you! please enjoy @rapsgoddess !!

KUROKO NO BASKET

takao kazunari

takao!! he loves seeing you dressed up all nice and cute, and he loves to take pictures of you in them! “babe, you look so cute in this outfit.” he loves joining you in your interests; especially roller skating. he finds it so fun!! so he often bothers you to take you out to a rink and you guys literally just laugh and have so mcuh fun. he loves looking into your eyes, especially when you’re working on music because he sees the passion. he goes to any performances you have and literally acts like your biggest fan. since you’re so smart, he often asks you to help him with his studies (especially when the coach threatens him that he needs to get his grades up, or he won’t be able to play). expect him to show up randomly at your work, saying things like “i’d like one order of you please.” he’ll stay until you close so he can walk you home (he is attached to you af). the way you carry yourself feeds into his ego so much, because “that’s his girl.” you guys have the same laugh when joking with each other, and overall this relationship is like being in a relationship with your best friend. 

imayoshi shouichi

he fits you so well! imayoshi may seem boring, but once he meets you, he is so keen in getting to know your interests. he learns and grows so much from you despite acting like the way he is. he especially loves it when he discusses politics with you! your discussions go in depth with him, but when it gets a little overboard he’ll shut you up with a kiss <3 he loves watching you create your music because you’re so focused, and he’s so proud of you. he likes the fact that he doesn’t have to worry much about you, because he knows you can take care of yourself well (although, he is still so observant with you and keeps an eye on you at all times). you guys often study together, and he is quite dark himself, so you both have a lot of dark humour inside jokes. oh! you guys are academic rivals; as much as he loves you and you love him, you guys compete who gets the higher grades and make so many bets LMAO. i think he’s the type to ask you to make him a drink if you can after your shifts at work, and one day he wants to make a coffee that you like. 

disclaimer: i am not accepting any more matchups— i am merely clearing out my inbox for those who have sent their matchup requests before the due date.

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

[jstlikemagic]

It’s An Everything Thing. - Jeff Wittek Smut

Title: It’s An Everything Thing.

Pairing: Jeff Wittek/Reader

Rating: R (NSFW/Swearing) | Doggystyle, missionary, oral sex, protected sex.

TW: Hints at a small sexual assault situation but doesn’t surround the plot if that makes sense.

Summary: Y/N and Jeff don’t like each other... oh wait.

A/N: So, this contains smut and angst which is exciting! Please reblog and/or like if you enjoyed this! 

Looking around the party, you lost sight of your friend David. He invited you out to his party at his house. Which meant Jeff was going to be there. You and Jeff hadn’t talked since the fight you two had a few months ago that ended up in you two blocking each other on all social media and avoiding each other at all costs. Knowing he was going to be there made you so anxious but also ready to get fucked up.

Walking around, you started to look for the open bar. Your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when you spotted it with it’s beautiful Grey Goose bottles and a 750 of Fireball sitting on the bar cart. Stumbling upon the bar cart, you made yourself a mixed drink and walked away to find some place to chill and sit for a while. As soon as you turned into the living room, there was just crowded space and nowhere to breathe. As you tried to navigate your way through the living room someone had accidentally tripped you while they were dancing. All of the sudden, your drink spilled on you as you fell on top of a stranger on the couch.

“You fainted straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” Jeff scoffed. Looking up at him and realizing who it was, you quickly stood up.

“Piss off,” you spatted back. You walked away in a hurry to the bathroom, hoping no one would notice that you spilled your drink and it was completely soaking your clothes. Making it to the bathroom, you placed both hands on the side of the sink, looked in the mirror, and sighed deeply. You weren’t sure if you were mad at the person who tripped you, the fact that the drink you had was all over you, or the person you fell on was Jeff. 

“Ya know, I can get you a tide stick or something or I can give you a change of clothes or I can let you go home naked,” Jeff offered while peeking into the bathroom while winking at you.

“Nope, I’m fine. Goodbye,” you tried to shut the door but he stuck his body through the opening, enabling him to slide through.

“Are you really fine though? It looks like ya pissed your dress!” he laughed. You sat down on the toilet lid and put your head in your hands. You started to cry due to the anxiety and frustration of his presence. “Oh no, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you-”

“Jeff, go fuck yourself. You’re a fucking dick and I’m not sure why. Even in my times of need, you still manage to make me miserable. Now, can you please leave me the fuck alone,” you screamed at him through tears. This was it. This was the breaking point. You were done with his egotistical, obnoxious, and annoying personality. He was just too much, especially right now.

“I like to joke around with you. I know you don’t think it’s funny but I always used humor and shit to hide that I was into you. At least twice a week, I watched guys hit on you, my friends ogled over you. I just need you. I know you’ve heard me say it before but I mean it,” he confessed. You just stood there in shock. 

“Funny way of showing you’re into someone, huh?,” you pushed past him and walked out the bathroom while wiping your tears. And there was your answer.

[A week later…]

Scotty was performing at the House of Blues and he invited you to come as a guest and celebrate with the Vlog Squad. Your mindset coming to the concert was that you were just gonna ignore Jeff so it seems like nothing's changed. The other guys had no idea what went down at the party because you told them you had to leave for “girl stuff.” That was enough for them to not question anything. Still, it was irritating to even think about spending at least four hours in a dressing room with a man who had the nerve to make fun of you and then cover it up with some bullshit.

“Y/N, can you hand me another water please,” Scott asked sweetly. Responding with just a smile, you walked to the mini fridge and gave him his water. What you didn’t see though because your back was turned, was that Scott eyed you the whole time. From the point of you swaying your hips as you walked over to the fridge and all the way to you bending down to grab the water. He licked his lips at the sight of you but specifically your ass. Sitting on the other side of the room was Jeff who eyed Scott. There was rage building up in Jeff. Even though you weren’t his anything, he still had this duty in the back of his head to be yours. “Thank you, babe,” Scott said as you handed him his water.

“No problem, Scott. Anything for you,” you dautingly said while shooting a glare towards Jeff’s direction. “Actually, I have a request. Can I have aux, guys? I have a song I really wanna dance to!”

“Sure, take it over!” Todd yelled from the bathroom. Why he was still controlling the music while taking a shit was beyond you but it was whatever. Connecting to the bluetooth of the speaker, you furiously scrolled through your playlists. You came across the “i like to drink and turn up” playlist and found the perfect song to fuck with Jeff. If he actually meant what he said to you a week ago, this might be the perfect revenge. You weren’t normally about the whole revenge thing but Jeff basically made you feel awful about yourself so why the fuck not.

Pressing play, everyone recognized the first few seconds of the song. It was “Or Nah” by Ty Dolla $ign, a very sensual and raunchy song but still loved very much by all of those in the room. With your red solo cup in your hand, you stepped up on the coffee table set up in the middle of the dressing room with your back facing Jeff. Making sure to flaunt your back side, you hiked up your shorts just a little bit so your ass was hanging out just a tad bit but enough to make Jeff go wild. Swaying your hips and dropping low every few seconds, it looked like you were dancing to “Come Get Her” by Rae Sremmurd instead. You knew you got the reaction from Jeff because he just looked up at you in awe, he looked like he wanted to jump your bones.

“Jeff, are you okay?” you heard David scream over the music. You turned around to see Jeff’s knuckles completely white from gripping his cup so hard. He had a straight edge face which brought out his perfectly sculpted jawline. Pausing the music, you just stared at him and he stared at you back.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. Y/N is a fucking bitch and I can’t stand her right now. God damn it,” he raised his voice. In one swift moment, he got up and walked out the door with it slamming right behind him. 

As he walked out the door, all you saw was Todd walk out of the bathroom while saying “Is there something I missed? Why do we look genuinely confused and spaceshot?” Nodding your head, you got up and decided to look for Jeff. Where would Jeff be? Where would Jeff be?

Turning the corner, you saw a little bit more of a private patio with plants peeking out in the back. You saw the back of his head but he was slumped over with his head burrowed in between his forearms. Debating if you should say anything, you kept your distance and mustered up the courage to say “Hey, um- I’m sorry. I don’t know why you’re upset but-”

“You don’t know why I’m upset?” he interrupted. “Y/N, I fucking told you how I felt about you, it was like you were gloating it in my face that I could see you, I just couldn’t touch you or have you. It’s not even a sexual thing. It’s an everything thing.” You could see how frustrated he was. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was so red. In the back of your head, you hoped he hadn’t been crying. You know that you meant to be malicious and wanted a response but you thought that it would’ve been more of a banter rather than the situation now at hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry that I made you upset. But to make things clear, I’m not yours and probably will never be. With that being said, get that through your head. You can fuck any girl you want within reason so it’s best of you to stick with that route,” you pleaded. You never actually thought of what it would be like to be with him whether it be platonic or sexual. You for sure didn’t want your mind to go there. Stubbornly, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He treated you wrong all these years and you weren’t sure of where your future even stood with him now after the dancing escapade. 

The truth was that you were scared. Scared of liking, or loving for that matter, anyone because of the trust issues you developed. Many people in your life had fucked you over and Jeff was already on that list. That is why your walls were up completely when it came to him. Maybe I should give him another chance? No, no. I can’t do that. He’s an asshole, Y/N. He’ll always be one. 

“Y/N, I guess it’s whatever right? I’ll just try to move on. Won’t think about you, won’t speak about you. Y/N, who? I just want to let you know that I may never be able to move on but I still hope maybe one day, you turn around, and at least wanna try being friends,” he spoke with sadness dripping from his voice with every word. 

[A year later...]

Sitting in a lawn chair by a firepit, you were just scrolling on your phone. You were at David’s house party and just felt lost. Feeling out a place and out of loop because you hadn’t seen the Vlog Squad in a year and didn't bother to. After the whole Jeff incident at the House of Blues, you thought it was best to give the guy some space. 

“Y/N! Is that you?” you heard David scream from across the backyard. Watching him run over, you laughed at him almost tripping over a rock. He was alway so fucking clumsy when he was drunk. Iyt only took one drink but boy was he hammered  As he made his way over to where you were sitting, he pulled up a chair right next to you. “How have you been?” he asked. 

Biting your lip, you just looked at him and shrugged. You weren’t fine. Not at all. Ever since the Jeff incident, everything played in your head. Every possibility did. Would you two have been dating by now? Would you two have been civil and friends? You wouldn’t know. You obviously couldn’t tell David any of that either. Hearing someone scream his name from inside the house, he quickly got up, said goodbye, and escaped the awkward moment you two were having.

Realizing you were alone again, you decided to get up and actually assert yourself. As you walked through crowds of people you spotted your best friend, the bar. Getting yourself a beer, you settled on one of the breakfast bar stools that sat right in front of the kitchen island. The kitchen was basically empty since the actual party was outside and in the living room. Taking a swig of the beer, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. “Hey sweetheart. Any reason you’re alone tonight?” the stranger asked while rubbing your shoulders. 

Taking another swig, you turned around. You didn’t recognize the guy at all and he wasn’t the least bit attractive. “Yeah, I’m waiting for someone. Thanks though,” you said nervously.

“Well, why don’t I make friends with you while you wait,” he said while placing his hands on the top of your thighs. Not knowing what to say, your mouth was left agape. You hoped that in this moment someone would fucking save you from this creep. Placing your hands on top of his, you tried to remove his hands off of you. But they were glued onto you and he squeezed your thighs. “Baby, I just want to have some fun. Is that too much to ask?” he whispered in your ear. 

Clearly uncomfortable, you just let him start caressing your thighs. As he started kissing your neck, you felt yourself get nervous and wanted to scream. Not wanting to cause a scene, you just remained silent and froze up. As you looked out into the living room to see if anyone would notice, you spotted him. He was wearing a black Carhartt shirt and khakis. He looked like an angel in the crowd of people. Hoping he would catch your attention, you just stared at him with this sad look on your face. 

When he finally caught your gaze, it felt like when you see someone after a breakup. Shocking but also familiar. He furrowed his eyebrows and right after that you mouthed “help me.” Getting up from his spot, he walked over to where you were sitting. “Hey, man. Get the fuck outta here alright. I’m her boyfriend so I’m the only one who should be touching her like that,” he threatened. Throwing his hands up, the guy slowly backed out of the room.

Both of you had no idea what to even say to each other. Do you say “thank you” or “hi” or should you just walk away and pretend that this never happened. Contemplating in your head, you just got out a “Thank you. Like a lot. I appreciate it.”

With his eyes darting over the place, he contemplated what to say. “Y/N, can we please go somewhere private?” he asked while fiddling his long fingers. Nodding to him, he grabbed your hand and led you to the guest bedroom. Sitting on the bed, Jeff pulled up a chair to sit right in front of you, giving that space that the both of you needed. “Now, I’m not gonna sit here and tell you what I’ve told you before. But I wanna ask if you’re willing to even try being frie-”

“I don’t wanna be your fucking friend,” you spatted out. Suddenly, his face dropped to the ground and you could see the sadness forming. “Jeff, I wanna fucking be with you. I wanna be the only girl you have in the world. I wanna be the one who you wake up to, fuck with, sleep with. Everything.” Realizing that the liquid courage overshot this one, you just stared down at the ground and waited for him to say something.

“Alright, so where has this come from? Last year, I’m pretty sure you wanted to kill me. This year it’s ‘Oh Jeff! I wanna be with you.’ Y/N, did you think I was gonna wait forever for you?” he threw back at you. He had a point. You waited a year to figure out maybe there was something there. I mean tonight he struck something within you because of how he was the only one in the crowd of people that actually helped you in that uncomfortable encounter. He seemed to be the only that cared for you at this point.

Looking up at him with tears in your eyes, you just shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you then. Maybe I actually realized that we could be great together? Maybe love wouldn’t be scary if it was with you? I don’t know,” you muttered. Folding your arms, you fell back on the bed. Grabbing a pillow, you used it to cover your face because you could just feel the sobbing about to start. Feeling his eyes burning through you, you just sighed.

“Well, I know I could cover one of those tasks you want with me,” he said with a smirk on his face. Crawling up to your body, he just smiled at you. Caressing his hair, you pulled his neck closer so your lips met. As corny as this sounds, the kiss was more passionate than you could ever imagine. Wrapping your legs around his waist, his hips lightly ground into yours which made you moan uncontrollably. “You’re gonna let me make you mine tonight?” he asked while you caught your breath.

“Make me yours, baby,” you provoked. With that, he pulled himself off of you, and attempted to pull off your skinny jeans. Seeing that he was struggling to get them off, you laughed. Hearing him mutter something under his breath, he finally got them off your ankles and onto the floor. Looking at your underwear, he could see a wet spot.

“Wow, already wet for me? Just like at the party last year?” he joked. You rolled your eyes. 

“Will you just shut the fuck up and fuck me? God, stop being annoying,” you whined as you threw your head back. Slowly peeling off your underwear, he took in the view. This is what he had been waiting for. All those years, he had been waiting for a moment to get you alone and see this side of you. Not the naked side, he enjoyed that, but an intimate side that the two of you could share.

Moving his face up to your pussy, he just breathed and it sent shivers down your spine. You might've been waiting for this moment all year but you had waited what felt like a longtime for someone like Jeff in your life. Someone you knew that would protect you and treat you like the goddess you are. 

Sticking his tongue, you gripped the sheets in tight handfuls. Moaning through your gritted teeth, you felt his tongue doing circles around your g-spot. Wanting him to delve more into your pussy, you grabbed his hair and brought him closer. Soon enough, he was hitting the right spot and you couldn’t keep back your shrieked breaths and moans. Darting his tongue back and forth, you could feel a knot in your stomach forming. 

It wasn’t a familiar feeling because you had never been satisfied like this before. No guy had ever actually wanted to eat you out unless you asked for it. His first move was to eat your sweet pussy because he wanted to show you that this was all about you and your comfortability. 

Feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, you gripped his hair and tugged it hard. Feeling yourself tighten around his tongue, you let out on him. Licking up your cum, he took a step back to admire what was in front of him. An attractive, vulnerable, and sweet, Y/N. Throwing yourself up from the bed, you whipped off your shirt and unclasped your bra. Reaching for his shirt you tossed it over his head and to the corner of his room. Unbuckling his jeans, he stopped you. “Y/N, I wanna show you what you’ve missed out all this year. No need to pleasure me. Looking at you unfold for me is enough,” he smirked.

“Okay, then how do you want me?” you asked sweetly. Hearing that was enough for Jeff to cum right on the spot. He didn’t know why but the innocence in your voice flipped a switch in him. It made him feel bad about how he was gonna wreck your pussy for the next ten minutes. 

“I want you on all fours. Right now,” he demanded. Taking his belt off, then his pants, and boxers, you groaned at the sight of his cock. It was already dripping precum. Grabbing a condom from his dresser drawer, he opened the package and slid the condom on his hard cock. With your ass in the air, he lined his cock up to your wet pussy. Placing a hand on your back, he slowly pushed in. Hissing at the sensation, he pulled back and said “Y/N, are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?”

“Nope, I’m fine. Just need to get used to it,” you replied. Trying again, he slowly entered you while making sure to not put all of himself in just yet. After inching in every time, he put himself inside of you. He found his rhythm and was fitting himself completely in your tight pussy. Gripping on your hips, every once in a while he’d smack your ass. 

Grabbing your ass and smacking it, he said “Oh, you like it when I fuck you like that? You like it when I smack your ass, baby?” Nodding your head, you managed to pant out a ‘yes.’ Suddenly, he removed himself from you. Feeling empty, you whined at the awful sensation. He took you by your hips and turned you on your back. 

“Sorry, baby. I want to take you this way. I want to look at you while I cum,” he breathed. Instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips, he inserted himself again. Only this time, he placed his lips on yours which earned him a moan from you. His face then found himself in the crook of your neck and his lips on your neck. Holding on to the back of his neck, you needed the support from him completely fucking you into tomorrow. Every thrust was hard and fast and it was perfect. 

Even though it didn’t seem like the typical intimate and romantic moment, it was. There was a certain closeness you two felt with each other during this moment. He was giving himself to you and you were giving yourself to him and it was perfect. 

Feeling him slow down, you took that moment to catch your breath a little bit and refocus on what was happening. Jeff lifted himself up and supported himself with his elbows. Looking up at him, you could tell he was very close. His face was scrunched up and his mouth was agape. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck,” he muttered. As he looked down at you, you could see the lust and passion in his eyes. As he intently was locking eyes with you, he let out a low moan and came into the condom. 

Rolling off of the bed, he took the condom off and threw it in the trash. Laying next to you in bed, you were just heavily breathing while looking up at the ceiling. “Did you cum by any chance,” he asked.

“No but I don’t think that really matters right now,” you responded. Turning towards him, you moved yourself closer to him. “What matters is, what do we do now? I mean we fucked and I told you how I felt so,” you pondered.

Pulling you into his chest, he sighed. “Well, we have one of two options. Option one is that we never speak of tonight and we pretend we still hate each other. Or we could do the better option, which is to maybe see where things go between us?” he noted. Looking at him and his arms that were wrapped around you, you smiled.

“Ya know, I’m really liking option number two but can we add an option three to this?” you questioned.

“Which option would that be?” he asked.

Growing a huge smirk on your face, you pulled yourself on top of him and placed your hands on his chest. “I was thinking we see where things go but we also have round two.”

[spockandawe]

I doubt this is something I’ll ever even try to write, because I rarely have the energy these days to devote my energy to a ‘lol but what if’ ship. But never say never, and I legit wrote the emilonni and tlj/sqq fics, after all, so I’m going to write this down and maybe, possibly, someday come back to it.

Now, hear me out

Wei Wuxian/Jin Zixun

Yes, yes, I know, but give me a second. It’s the sort of ship where I kind of want to do it just to see if it can be done, and where the idea of ‘textual support’ is kind of laughable, and it’s not like I’m smashing together two super-popular characters who just never happened to speak, and it’s the kind of ship where I think I could only shake one fic out of it before I was repeating myself, BUT.

First, a quote:

The person at the head of the group was Jin Zixun. He said, “Zixuan, is that Wei making trouble for you again?!”

Jin Zixuan said, “None of your business, don’t worry about it for now!” Seeing that Wei Wuxian grabbed Jiang Yanli and was about to take her away, he added, “Stop!”

Wei Wuxian said, “Oh, you want to fight? That’s fine with me!”

Jin Zixun said, “You Wei, just what do you mean by going against Zixuan so many times?”

Wei Wuxian looked at him. “Who are you?”

Jin Zixun paused in shock, and fumed, “You don’t know who I am?!”

“Why should I know who you are?”

When the Sunshot Campaign had first broken out, Jin Zixun had insisted on defending the back lines, due to an injury. He hadn’t had the chance to see what Wei Wuxian was like on the front lines, and most of his knowledge had come from rumors. He hadn’t care much for him, thinking that the rumors were simply exaggerations. However, a while ago, Wei Wuxian had summoned all of the dark creatures in the forest with a whistle, calling away the fierce corpses Jin Zixun’s group had been about to capture, causing their efforts to be wasted. He was already displeased.

Now, in front of his face, Wei Wuxian was asking who he was, stirring up a strange sense of indignation within him— He knew Wei Wuxian, yet Wei Wuxian didn’t know him, and even dared ask who he was in front of everyone. It was as if this had caused him to lose too much face. The more he thought about it, the more irritated he became.

Now, there’s a thoughtful meta I hopefully reblogged to my sideblog, which I would have to dig up or recreate on my own, about the most sympathetic possible reading of Jin Zixun. If memory serves, it has a lot to do about the precarious nature of his social position, where he’s part of the Jin clan, and kind of the closest thing Jin Zixuan has to a brother, but also, everyone knows that Jin Zixuan has half-siblings coming out of the woodwork, and many of them would be stoked to get Jin Guangshan to accept them into the family. At this stage in the story, Jin Guangyao is already a major player and a hero of the war and part of the venerated triad, where Jin Zixun spent a lot of time... not in the thick of things, like most other peers of his generation.

Is he an asshole? Yes! Is... Wei Wuxian an asshole? Also yes! One of them may be a more likeable asshole than the other, but that’s part of the excitement of a story like this, trying to coax people into holding a fannish position that they’d never considered before, and aren’t particularly eager to be convinced of. I don’t think I’m bad at that uphill climb, it just takes a lot of energy that I don’t often have to begin that journey in the first place. Also, one of these assholes is a certified grade-A torturer, and it’s probably not the one you dislike. Jin Zixun isn’t starting from an insurmountable disadvantage here. 

And see, the thing that got my attention is this: Earlier in this chapter, Wei Wuxian is a little melancholy, thinking about how since the Sunshot Campaign, lots of people are scared of him, hardly anyone is willing to be alone with him, and almost nobody would ever be willing to approach him alone. And here, we get the information that because Jin Zixun was injured early and wasn’t on the front lines of the Sunshot Campaign, he doesn’t know to be afraid. He tried to provoke Wei Wuxian before the hunt, he’s about to keep provoking Wei Wuxian, he’s Jin Zixun and he doesn’t afraid of anything. Yes, he’s about to say some very hurtful things, but I look at that, and I think ‘okay, now how do we recover from this?’ Giving Wei Wuxian someone who just... plain isn’t afraid of him (but is also derailed by me, your author, from taking that to unrecoverable places) would be good for him. Jiang Cheng will antagonize him and isn’t afraid of him, but they also share years of history and are dealing with a lot of other stresses in this situation, and Jiang Cheng is asking things from Wei Wuxian that Wei Wuxian is struggling to provide, and the golden core thing is still hanging between them. Lan Wangji isn’t afraid of Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian parses his concern and worries as antagonism and criticism, and those stress him out in a whole different way. This dynamic, as much as I would have to work to make it happen, would bring something new to the table.

One of my favorite activities is crackshipping with sincerity, and when I poke at this, it genuinely feels like richer territory than it looks at first glance. A lot of the antagonists share some fascinating character notes with our lead, and what’s most interesting to me here is an elevated-but-precarious social position and the various stresses that puts upon our characters. Jin Guangyao is the most obvious example, and Su She echoes it more quietly, with how he struggled within the Lan Sect and eventually left (honestly, kudos to him for him and mianmian to be two of the only characters to realize that their home was hurting them and to leave). Jin Zixun is in a family position that’s close to being brothers with his sect’s heir, but isn’t quite brothers, and is close to the seat of power, but also in a precarious social position if someone acts against him. Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin create a dysfunctional family dynamic to grow up in, where Jin Guangshan’s heart attention strays from his wife, and his wife has beat at least one kid who wasn’t biologically hers in the household.

There’s some common ground, is all I’m saying

I don’t even know what would happen, necessarily, I’m talking this all out here right now, and the interesting part of ships like this is digging in extra deep, and seeing what unexpected thing shakes out. It isn’t quite in the style of the other notable rarepair fics I have managed to write, which tend to follow a paradigm of ‘[person] is floating unmoored from the world, and [love interest] gets them engaged with life again’, but it’s not totally out of line with my interests. Svsss won’t give us more detail about Tianlang-jun? Okay, what happens if I make him hopelessly fond, what happens then? What happens if I properly re-engage his sense of humor? I hardly had anything of substance to go on with Horuss, and that fic is old, but I managed to pull interesting things out of him with Roxy. And I mean... what does happen when Jin Zixun stops self-destructively antagonizing the people around him and starts acting in more neutral ways? Not even positive, I think this relationship is going to have a strong antagonistic component, but what happens if he stops basing his interactions purely on who gets the higher rung on the social ladder?

Now, I do have a problem, which is that plot is something that happens to other people. See also: the reason there has not been a tianlang-jun sequel. I think that it would almost definitely have to do with repairing the situation between Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli and both of them managing to dial it back a LITTLE so as not to completely sabotage their family member’s happiness, and that leading things forward. And in a ridiculous pipe dream that will never be realized, because either possible pov will be completely oblivious, I would also want to include Jin Zixuan’s confused bisexual awakening and his resentful (also confused) attraction towards Wei Wuxian, even if he still ends up with Jiang Yanli, but... wei wuxian isn’t going to notice, and neither is jin zixun, SO. That’s probably right out. And the plot implications would have to be... significant. Setting it post-Sunshot campaign means that the Wen situation is simmering, and any plot that involves me untangling that mess... terrifying! I wouldn’t know where to begin! But like, also. What if I could write this ship in a compelling way. I bet I could do it. Nothing feels as good as the sensation of ‘I have scored points on my own darling readers by convincing them to like something they didn’t want to like’, and usually, I only get that from the second person pov. It would be so hard to write this ship. But also, what if I did it.