#and not only that. i only lampshaded twice.

[cozymochi]

Friend you gotta relax people are just having fun 😭

Right, of course. Sorry.

I can’t voice being mildly agitated if something is repeated over and over.

Smile and wave. Post art. The buzzkill is me. Post art.

By all means.

Keep going.

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[vergiltopia]

Insomnia

Sometimes after missions, Vergil haves a lot of struggle to fall asleep, so you spend time with him in the office.

★ warnings: NSFW, oral sex (male receiving), +18 content

★ vergil x gn reader

Sometimes after a long mission, despise the physical exhaustion of his body, Vergil is unable to sleep as soon as he goes back home, maybe it's because of all the adrenaline and rush to kill demons that still endures on his blood after hours of hunting, he just can't close his eyes, restlessness on it's pure form. At times like this, he needs to distract his head a bit to slow down before bed, but the empty side of the mattress beside you plus hearing the sound of his light steps through the hallway wake you up from your slumber within the blink of an eye.

    You know exactly where he is, it's not a surprise when you find him in the office, the soft warm light of the lampshade dances through his tired figure, a poetry book in hands while the other one holds his own chin, legs gorgeously crossed. How he manges to look so classy and beautiful even on a restless night? Vergil was so concentrated that he barely see you coming, but the devil always feels your presence.

“What are you doing awake? Can't sleep either?” He gives a quick glance by the corner of his icy eyes, and after seeing your almost shy nod, a soft chuckle comes deep from his lungs.

“Come here.” Vergil pats his lap, and you don't think twice before joining him, knowing you won't be sleeping so soon if he won't go to bed. Your read rests on his shoulder, eyes reading quietly with him, you notice the Yamato was right beside the armchair, just another clear signal of how restless he was, still aware and ready if he needs to unsheathe the katana again. Gods, you can only think about how much you missed him, it's not always that Vergil is so physical, so what you truly missed was simply knowing he was home, to hear the heel tip sound of his boots ghosting around, that was enough. Yet, there's no way you're going to deny how good his hand feels right now, caressing the curve of your waist, his touch left a trail of goosebumps on your skin, a silent need growing more and more with the strange tension in the office.

    You just wanted to kiss him right now, anywhere, so you do, showering his face with quick smooches, hands squeezing the muscles of his arms. Vergil doesn't seem to mind at all, in reality he seems pretty pleased with your affection. Seeing his approval, within seconds your hips are moving on his lap grinding in circles, seeking for attention, and you have it real quick, the thick bulge on his leather pants tells you more than anything. Vergil groans, making you expect a cold rebuke, yet, he only seems to hold his book tightly and squeeze your soft body, the way he doesn't take the eyes away from the book it's a little annoying, even more annoying when you know he does this only because it's too stubborn to admit his desire. It feels like a challenge to make him admit he needs you carnally, time to do something, since Vergil is not the only one in need. You quite jerking around, standing up only to kneel down before him, right between his long majestic legs under the desk. This finally catches his eyes, making Vergil stare down, arching an eyebrow, his expression remains neutral, except for his eyes that don't lie about the need.

“What are you doing, little bird?”

“Why don't you just relax and let me take care of that? You can keep reading, y'know...” Smirks, already caressing the leather fabric that covers his legs, trailing up to his bulge only to squeeze it like you're saying "and by that, I mean this." The devil sighs, when he thinks about relieve stress in a carnal way, it's always about eating you out mercilessly, yet this time the proposition is different.

“... Right, go ahead.” Vergil speaks briefly, already returning his attention to the book, playing your game, he kind of like to receive this attention from you while doing something else. That's all you needed to start undoing his pants, button open and zipper down, licking your lips in anticipation. Five seconds and his leather prison is pulled down just enough so his hard like rock member can spring out. You can hear Vergil sighing in relief when his cock is exposed to the cold air in the office, but he doesn't take the eyes from the book, keeping the other hand on his leg just in case you need some quick manners.

   Mouth watering, aiming to please, your lips find the leaking tip to deposit a soft kiss, a tender testament of how much you needed him right now. Kissing and licking him, you smear your own lips with his leaking essence, his taste is the best, and you savour every second by flicking your tongue relentlessly on his frenulum. Vergil's body twitch in response, biting back any sounds of pleasure while he still seems focused on reading. He was playing it so damn right it's a bit frustrating, good heavens, at this point you just wanted him to fuck your face senseless, yet the man doesn't even stare down. You needed to do something to weaken him, to break through his fortress. What's the best way to get his attention if not doing something that never fails to surprise him? With his shaft in hands, you start to softly hit it on your cheek a few times, leaving a small wet spot on your skin, and within seconds, jackpot. He was wide eyed, the book settled down on the arm of the chair, but he quickly scoffs grabbing your head with a demanding strong grip. This makes your heart pound so fast, he fell for it.

“You want me?” He rubs softly the tip of his dick on your lips, breathing heavily and frowning. Suddenly, that bratty smirk you had vanishes when Vergil himself hits your check with his shaft again, feeling the urge to show who is control.

“I made you a question, do you want me, darling?”

"Y-yes Vergil, I want you, I need you, please...” the response was shaky, you swallow hard looking at him with pleading eyes, almost as if you're fearing him for suddenly taking back all the lead of this situation, damn, he knows how to turn tables so quickly.

“You're such a good little thing.” His lips quirked up, knowing he could make you beg much more than this, except that now it's not the day for this kind of game. He slowly pushes his throbbing cock inside your awaiting mouth, the feeling of having your mouth full and to feel your warmth engulfing him caught both shaking with satisfaction to finally have each other. Vergil holds the armchair as your head start to move around him, one hand gently guiding you through his hardness, devouring him like your favorite treat. Actually, he really is.

   Your desperate hands hold onto his thighs, the pace growing more intense like you can't get enough of him, the nods of your head get a bit sloppy from how excited you get, the sight of his cock disappearing into your velvet mouth just drives him crazy, his head falling behind as he slowly bucks his hips forward as if trying to motivate you to take it even deeper, but also holding your head in place to make it less clumsy. Challenge accepted, after a deep breath, his shaft is all the way inside to the hilt, his husky moans getting more and more hard to hold back at this point, Vergil doesn't make for the loud type, but can't help when that warm greedy mouth takes him so well. The devil wanted to take you on his arms and carry to the bedroom so bad, only to ravish you in any way possible, though you suck him off so deliciously it's too overwhelming to make him think straight.

   You are about to pull your head away when he glances at you with a look that says a firm and commanding "No", only to push your head against his groin, making you gag with his cock. That little gagging sound it's enough to make him kick the bucket, fucking your mouth with wild abandon. Drool is dripping from the corners of your spent mouth as you hold your breath to not gag again, Vergil won't stop his demand, holding your hair back in a ponytail, low guttural moans echoing from his lips as he keeps pushing his throbbing member at the back of your throat. You could even hear him mutter something with his devil trigger voice, although your head is too foggy to make it coherent. That was so dirty, but at the same time, so loveable, you feel how much he needs you, his beloved mate that he looks at with so much longing and affection, brushing away the hair that got stuck on the drool in your blush mess cheeks, Vergil guides your head back, a string of saliva connecting your swollen red lips to his tip leaking tip.

“Darling... hold still, I will...” his voice was incredibly hoarse and embargoed, he aims his cock at your cheek to finally shoot a thick load of cum all over it, the mess ends up spilling to your shirt and other spots in your face. He looked so damn feverish and passionate, closing his eyes tightly, a languid low moan fall from his lips with the overwhelming pleasure to mark his mate, Vergil milks every last drop from his orgasm with a few strokes, just this once he wanted to make a mess.

“Mine, you're mine...” Vergil whispers possessively like a prayer to himself, caressing your cheek with his thumb, you can see all the longing on his tired yet satisfied blue eyes, slowly coming back from his high.

“I missed you, Vergil.” Your knees hurt a little from kneeling there for too long, careful to not hit your head on the desk, Vergil helps you stand up and then takes a tissue from his pocket to clean your face and shirt.

“I missed you too, little bird.” He takes your hand to place a soft kiss to your knuckles, a sweet contrast with his wild need from minutes ago. In the end, the sweet aftercare always was your favorite part, taking care of him till he falls asleep in your arms, with dreams of a brand new day to love him.

[murciafire]

Lady Lazarus

Jason Todd Angst

Summary: “You don’t get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection” – Nathaniel Orion

Warnings: angst, the poem is about Plath's attempts but nothing explicit

Words: >1000

Notes: The thought of Jason dying and then being resurrected often led me to think of “Lady Lazarus” by Sylvia Plath. I find that it’s even more appropriate considering that Jason’s died twice now (1988, 2024 – please let me know if I have it wrong). Since we all know that Jason reads classics, I felt that his thoughts might as well be as dramatic and poetic as seen in classic lit.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

I have done it again.

There was a chipped tile in the corner of the wall where it met the smooth surface of the bathtub. My eyes would always catch it on the days I found myself lying in the bathtub, but it was so indiscernible that I didn’t think anyone else would remark it. (Not that I would care if anyone did, nor did anyone visit me, nor did I want anyone to). It was like a scar hidden under a chin that wouldn’t be evident until you tilted your face to where God should be (but perhaps in His absence, you could stare at the sun and the rays would make the sliver of cut skin silver, brilliant and hideous).

But such a break, where it was so insignificant, would bother no one unless you knew where to look for such fractures. And I, being that I am, often find myself wandering in an agonizing game of self-loathing where I’m drawn to discovering broken things like me. Which is why I think—and when I do think these thoughts, they’re often coupled with a heaving dry chuckle—I must cover the bathroom mirror. This game, or perhaps self-torment, is one that I often lose even when I win.

I put out my cigarette on the side of the tub—I had forgotten I had lit it. My nerves were so frayed that I didn’t think nicotine could absolve me any more than drowning myself in this bathtub hoping that a self-made baptism could bring me any closer to my father. I sighed, closing my eyes while dropping the crumpled cigarette on the floor beside me. My heart beat steadily in my chest, but I was already limp like I had given up. I felt a smile curl my lips into something cruel because here I was, in rose water which I wasn’t holy enough for, but damned enough that I was swimming in my own blood.

The bathroom, I thought, was a state of purgatory where all my thoughts merged into a state of expiatory purification.  Because I was alive and somehow—“One year in every ten I manage it—”

I groaned as my bones creaked and my muscles strained as I leaned over to pull the stopper. My eyes fixated on the swirling water, taking my blood with it. I blinked a few times, looking at my hands, no longer stained but very still. As if silence was a word to describe a motion—I wasn’t sure I was breathing. But I was.

And again I find myself moving, peeling myself off the floor of the tub, stepping over the edge. A sort of walking miracle, my skin bright as a Nazi lampshade, my right foot a paperweight.

I stood in front of the mirror and in my hesitancy, I found some courage, or as if reality took form and guided my hand to rip off the towel I hung over it, so I had to face what I saw in that tile: something broken. My face a featureless, fine Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin, O my enemy. Do I terrify?—

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh the grave cave ate will be at home on me.

I smiled, my laugh hollow as I wiped my face, continuing to recite Plath. “And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty and like the cat, I have nine times to die.”

I tossed the towel onto a hook on the wall before gripping the sink to stare at myself. “This is Number Three. What a trash to annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd shoves in to see them unwrap me hand and foot—the big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies—” I pushed off the sink, throwing my hands over my face. “These are my hands. My knees. I may be skin and bone, nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.”

I slid down to my knees, my chest heaving. “The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant to last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut as a seashell. They had to call and call and pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.”

I shut my eyes, feeling my body crumple to the floor and curl into itself. Silence, I decided, was a word to describe action. Because here I was, living silently.

“Dying,” I whispered, “is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I’ve a call.”

 

I rubbed my arm with my hand, my fingers brushing over scars—new and old. My body was littered with wounds, but no one could ever see the scar under my chin. Or perhaps, the one I wanted most to notice was the crack in my heart that shattered my soul.

“It’s easy enough to do it in a cell,” I muttered. “It’s easy enough to do it and stay put. It’s the theatrical. Comeback in broad day to the same place, the same face, the same brute amused shout: ‘A miracle!’”

I laughed or cried; I wasn’t sure. But air came out of my lungs and clawed at my throat to make some sort of sound so I knew I was still here, lying on the bathroom floor very much still alive. But it’s a miracle that I am, isn’t it?  That knocks me out.

There is charge. For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge. For the hearing of my heart—

It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge for a word or a touch or a bit of blood or a piece of my hair or my clothes.   So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus, I am your valuable, the pure gold baby that melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—

You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—

A cake of soap, a wedding ring, a gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer  

Beware

Beware.

Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

[katuschka]

Scene One – Lampshade

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader (1st person narrative)

2.541 words

On my bedside table, I have a beautiful art deco lamp. When my lover leaves, he ties a scarf he wore for days on top. And when he’s gone I let my window open just a bit, the gentle breeze sets the scarf on motion, just like the waves in the tempestuous ocean.  Once or twice, I swear, I could smell him in my dreams.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings: longing, alcohol consumption, penetrative sex, phone sex and masturbation, sex toys, phantasmagorical dream visions

Taglist

It’s been almost three weeks since I last saw him. I’m trying to convince myself that it’s not that bad, but the truth is that I always start missing him the moment he leaves. It’s a bittersweet feeling. I’m a grown, independent woman, engaging in my daily routines...or breaking them, just to stay sane. 

But, it feels as if a part of my soul got attached to him. It travels with him wherever he goes and I feel it tugging at my insides every now and then. At first I thought it was just a side effect of the early stages of falling in love. I believed that it would get easier with time, but it never did. If anything, it only got worse. 

It’s bearable during the day. My mind’s too preoccupied with my job, thank god. It’s not really much different from when he’s here. I still have my work to do and he’s busy too, until we finally meet at home to share a glass of wine or two. And then we fuck.

That’s why early evenings are the worst when he’s away. The house is just too big, too quiet, and my mind too restless. No sound of the strings being plucked greets me when I get home, no smell of savory dishes waiting for me in the oven or on the stove. I’m too lazy to do it myself, so I just order in, only to be reproached by him later that I’m not taking proper care of myself. My lover does all these things. My body’s spoiled with constant hugs and my cheeks peppered with warm kisses. So, on days like these, this is what his lady misses. 

He knows that, so he tries to call anytime he can. It’s easier in between shows. He makes sure to call me around eight, even when it’s already 3 am where he’s at. Him being a night owl, this has never been a problem. Sometimes it’s just a quick hello to make sure I’m ok. Other times we talk for hours. 

I didn’t expect anything like that today. He might call late or not at all. Probably not at all because today’s show was too important. He wanted me there, but I couldn’t go this time. I had an important project to finish and came home pleasantly exhausted. In a perfect world, we would celebrate our respective achievements together, but this world is not perfect, so I have to content myself with the fact that he is. 

Well, not really, but I wouldn’t change a thing about him. 

So, I just poured myself a glass of wine, climbed in bed early and tried to read, only to find myself checking the Instagram updates constantly. I don’t do it very often, because I’m not really keen on seeing hundreds of women swooning over him, but someone might be streaming the show, and I just couldn’t miss it. 

Before he left, he fastened his scarf on my lampshade. That little piece of fabric is basically marinated in his scent – his strong, yet religiously comforting cologne mixed with the warm smell of him. I made sure to leave both the bedroom door and the window open, to create a slight draft. After three weeks, the scent had already faded a bit, but I still could get whiffs of him while falling asleep. Just like today. The livestream I found ended mid-show, but I wasn’t really paying attention anymore. I could feel my eyelids getting heavy long before the concert ended and without even bothering to turn off the light, I fell asleep with my phone still in my hand. 

Except I couldn’t sleep. The thunderstorm in the distance and the billowing wind kept me awake. The sky was clear when I went to bed, so I couldn’t understand where the clouds came from. It didn’t matter anyway. 

He was here. In my bed, sleeping. The intoxicating scent of clove and incense mixed with his musk wrapped around me like a second comfort blanket. The bedside lamp illuminated his disheveled hair and the clothes he had carelessly thrown over the armchair next to the bed. He was naked and all of the sudden, so was I.

It was our bedroom…and it wasn’t. The southern wall was gone, exposing us to the elements outside. Our garden turned to a stony shore, with the waves of a rough sea crashing upon it. Somewhere in the distance, I could see the storm raging.

I was feeling snug under the blanket, the warmth he elicited sheltering me from everything else around. I reached out to touch him. His skin was warm and dry and I snuggled closer to him from behind, inhaling the comforting aroma of his relaxed, sleeping body. 

He never slept much. Sometimes I wondered how he could function after yet another sleepless night, and the dark circles under his eyes often worried me. But when he did fall asleep, he looked like a baby boy, his full lips slightly parted and his brows turned upwards. A man of paradoxes. He would fuck my brains out just moments after he spoon-fed me pistachio ice-cream. My doe-eyed barbarian. A romantic adventure, but a reptile too. Always offering something new. Just like the sky outside, with the full moon now illuminating the stormy sky. Where did it come from? It was hanging there in mid-air in front of the clouds, so big, so close it seemed that I could reach it with my fingers if I just stepped outside of the room. 

But I didn’t want to. Instead, I slowly swirled around him like a serpent. I could feel him stir, his body responding to mine. It was a silent dialogue. He turned to me and pushed my chin upwards to nuzzle the soft skin behind my left earlobe. I could hear him murmur a prayer, the words of which I didn’t recognize, but I understood it anyway. I could feel his hand travel slowly down my belly, pulling my thighs apart, his palm sliding gently to my pussy and his middle finger slipping in between my folds. It’s been too long… My body reacted immediately. I arched my back and gasped for air as his moistened fingertip glided over my clit in slow circles. He kissed my shoulder and I could feel his parted lips stretch in a smile before he nibbled lightly on my skin covered with goosebumps.

He spread my thighs even more, like the petals of a blooming flower. I felt the weight of his body on mine as he shifted, obscuring my view, silencing the wind, his porcelain face dimming all the celestial lights behind him. He was coming home. 

I cried out when he entered me, grabbing pillows on both sides of my head. He, too, yelped like a puppy, laying his head on my bosom just for a while, to gain his composure. I felt every exhale of his quickened breath on my skin, and enveloped his body with my limbs in a false promise to never let go. 

He started moving inside me and I felt absolutely lightheaded, as if we were floating in an empty void. It got darker with each deep, long thrust until time and space around us disappeared and the only thing that tethered me to reality was the rhythm of his beating heart and the alluring sounds of his raspy moans. We moved together languidly, drunk in love, and the waves of pleasure running through my body intensified with each passing second. My fingernails dug into his skin…so deep until he suddenly stiffened and screamed in pain right next to left ear…

…nooo…at first I couldn’t tell where I was or who I was until the sound of my phone ringing on the pillow next to my head slowly brought me back to reality. I couldn’t believe it. What? Why? I looked at the screen and saw the name of the only person whom I could forgive for calling me right fucking now!

“Jake? Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I breathed out. 

A moment of silence before the man on the other side responded. I must have sounded pre-t-t-y irritated. “Babe? Did I wake you up?” 

Of course you did. What day is it? Oh yeah, it was slowly coming back to me. Madison Square Garden… “What time is it?” I breathed out.

“Almost one am here, your midnight. We just arrived at the hotel a moment ago, I haven’t even had a shower yet, I just had to hear…”

“Urgh,” I interrupted him with a groan, not in a reaction to what he said. My still not fully awakened body was just fighting with my mind as I tried to sit. I was still slightly disoriented and my coochie weeped. “I, uhm, I’m sorry baby. I just had a very intense erotic dream…the first one in years. And you just happened to interrupt it at the worst possible moment.”

“Oh, daamn!” he chuckled. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Not funny Jake. No one else but you could ever make me this wet. The sheets below me are literally soaked through.” I heard him inhale sharply on the other side. It took him a few more seconds to respond. “You’re wet?” It sounded a bit like a stifled groan, followed by him clearing his throat. Poor Jake, he was so taken aback by my response that Oliver had to take over. “Thaths probably because I was absolu-te-ly on fire tonight, my love! Telepathy must be one of my many superior powers. Now I need to clean the mess…”

“What do you mean?”

“Phone sex, obviously.” 

I laughed. Nah, I’m not a fan. I love his voice, don’t get me wrong, but it couldn’t possibly make up for all the stuff that my subconsciousness flooded my brain with just a moment ago. Also, I’ve always found the idea of phone sex strangely disconcerting. We could do the most obscene stuff face to face without even batting an eye, but to be describing to him how I’m touching myself? No, thank you. I’d be embarrassed. Don’t know why. That’s just how it is, And that’s what I told him.  

“Oh come on, let’s try it.” Jake was back. “Besides, it’s a mutual obligation now. I’m already hard.” 

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok Jake,” I crooned monotonously, “what are you wearing?” 

“Oh GOD!” he moaned theatrically. “You sound so sexy when you’re bored. Mmmmm.”

I laughed again, in earnest. “Sorry,” I chuckled. “Ok, let’s try it. But I’m not going to describe what I’m doing. You tell me what to do.”

“Deal.”

I heard his sheets rustle as he shifted on his bed, which meant he already had me on speaker, so I did the same. I adjusted the pillows, stripped off my babydoll and tried to find a comfortable position. “Ok Jake, I’m ready.”

“Good girl. Now, close your eyes and cup your breasts. Let your thumbs draw slow circles around your nipples. No pressure.” His voice suddenly sounded huskier than before. 

“Are you jerking off?” And then I heard it. The unmistakable sound of his fist sliding rhythmically up and down his cock. Of course he was. 

“You can’t blame me sweetheart,” he breathed out. “I got here, still full of adrenaline from the show, only to hear you tell me that I was fucking you in your dreams. I couldn’t wait any longer.” 

The sound of his heavy breath made my pelvic muscles contract and my heartbeat quicken. I licked my fingertips and let my hand slide between my legs, trying to ease the ache. “Talk to me Jake. Forget the nipples. Guide my fingers.”

“Who’s impatient now?” He let out an involuntary moan, swallowed harshly and continued: “Squeeze your clit between two fingers, scissor-like. Now rub from side to side and gently pull.”

I knew what he meant. His technique was completely different from mine and effective in its own way. I never tried to recreate it before. I did now, and it all suddenly came back to me. The dream, his touch, his dick, stretching me, fucking me, our loins dancing together to the rhythm of our heartbeats…

“Not enough,” I whined. “I need more, Jake.”

“Ok, time for Mini Me.”

That was yet another thing my lover did for me. We found a company that makes custom dildos using castings of real customers. Now, a cold piece of silicone can never compete with the real jake, but it was the next best thing whenever I needed to release the tension after a long day. I loved the shape of it. It was mine. I opened the drawer and reached for the toy. “Now what?”

“Ride me,” he groaned. 

“How am I supp…”

“Let’s pretend we fell off the bed.”

“What?”

“Off the bed! Now!” he commanded. I climbed off the bed and attached the dildo to the wooden floor. “Mini Me’s ready. What now?”

“Now sit.”

I did as I was told. I got on my knees, placed the tip between my folds and slowly slid all the way down. Our roles reversed for a brief moment as I was now guiding him through. I heard him spit into his palm and groan with relief. It was his time to take the reins again. “Move,” he rasped. “Grab your hips and pretend it’s me. Set the pace, but tell me.”

I started moving my hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, while whispering up and down and up and down to him. I was now close to my bedside table, the fragrant scarf only a few feet from me. I closed my eyes. The illusion was almost perfect. 

“That’s my girl,” he moaned. “Do you want to go faster?”

“No, this is fine.”

“Ok, continue baby. Let me hear you.”

We continued like that for several minutes, eyes closed, listening to each other. I could hear that he was close as his low moans turned to high-pitched whimpers. My thighs started shaking and I had to catch hold of the bedside table to ease the tension in my legs. I opened my eyes and that’s when I saw it. The multi coloured lampshade. As I was moving, so were the colorful lights before my eyes. It was like being there, under the stage lights, as I was listening to my man. The most beautiful song. It overwhelmed my senses and I came, screaming. From the haze of my own high, I heard him finish shortly afterwards. 

I wanted to hear every detail of his show, and he wanted to know about my project, but we were both already too exhausted, so he promised to call me again in the morning. I knew he would, because that’s what my lover does. 

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @klarxtr @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @GVFstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If you're not familiar with the town of Lily Dale, New York, it's called "The Town that Talks to the Dead," b/c it is a town connected with Mediumship and Spiritual Healing. (You can also visit and vacation there.) This 1912 4bd., 2.5ba. restored Victorian home is for sale in Lily Dale. It comes with all the furnishings and is only $250K. I've experienced this town and it is amazing.

It has a spacious entrance hall with an original staircase.

We can look at the furnishings since they all come with the house. Oh, I like that red lampshade. The sitting room is very large and shares its space with the dining area.

Beautiful Victorian fireplace.

The kitchen is very nice. I like the color of the cabinetry for this home.

The current owners have this small side hall set up as a sitting room.

This is nice. Double doors open to reveal a laundry area.

A shelving unit in the upstairs hall has a ladder. Very cute.

The primary bedroom is very large and features a built-in window seat and large nook.

Spacious updated bath has a separate water closet.

The other bedrooms are smaller, but still decent sizes.

Beautiful roof top deck.

Bedroom #4 is large. There's an outside door, but the home is big and has several additions.

Cute vintage bath.

Nice deck on the back of the house.

The 2,121 sq. ft. lot is surrounded by trees that provide privacy.

The town is near Cassadaga Lake.

This is the town's Forest Temple, built in 1894, an outdoor sanctuary where registered mediums hold a free daily Spirit message service at 4PM excluding Sundays. Forest Temple is an area of spiritual, emotional and mental upliftment. In the event of inclement weather, the service is moved indoors. Listen for the bell and follow the sign. 

This is the path to Inspiration Stump where mediums deliver Spirit messages twice a day.

Walk along the magical Fairy Trail on the edge of town and find some beautiful surprises along the way.

A fairy house along the trail.

The town is very friendly and full of delightfully pretty houses.

[susagnon]

To have: Jammingwhey’s social intelligence

"...whaddaya doin', dunce-face?"

Horikoshi referred to Kirishima and Kaminari as class 1-A’s emotional cores. Out of the two of them, Kaminari flies more under the radar, due to lesser screentime.

How does Kaminari function as one of 1-A’s emotional cores?

Let’s start with a perhaps more unconventional example:

“Flaming crap mixed with garbage” is still one of the more creative insults that appeared in MHA. Alongside Asui, Kaminari took over the quite important job of making the shifting power dynamics between Deku and Bakugou visible:

Bakugou's unrestrained violence against Deku during 1-A's first team assignment, was enough to make the class lose respect for him.

While Bakugou is undoubtedly talented and powerful, he was also blind to the fact, that he was only a big fish in a small pond.

At UA, everyone used to be in the top of their middle schools. Some, e.g., Iida, came from much better schools than Bakugou himself.

Meaning, Bakugou had no reason to prance around the way he did - and it was at UA, where he got served his first humble pie ever: Firstly, Deku fighting back. Secondly, a show of Todoroki's power. Lastly, a very sober but cutting assessment of himself by Yaoyorozu.

In contrast to the kids at his old school - and aside from a traumatized Deku - neither Kaminari nor the rest of 1-A are afraid of Bakugou. Kaminari snarking at Bakugou is him letting Bakugou know that.

To repeat: At UA, everyone used to be in the top of their former schools.

I just feel taken back a bit, whenever fanon depicts Kaminari and Ashido as being dumber than bricks. The two of them are the academically lowest ranking students in class 1-A, of UA. Characterizing them as being overall stupid, is like saying the academically lowest ranking freshman at Harvard University is generally stupid.

Don’t get me wrong: At elite schools, there are many intelligent people - and plenty more dumb people, just like anywhere else.

But everyone who gets into the school, must've been smart and talented enough, in order to beat out the dozens of other applicants for one of the coveted spots.

Considering how real-life schools in Japan work, Kaminari too, was most likely in the top of his middle school: He casually references Hemingway, like he reads his stuff for fun... Which actually might be the case, because I don’t think that American author is commonly part of the curriculum in Japanese highschools.

Furthermore, Bakugou (ranked 3rd in the midterms) and Monoma (rated with a 5/5 in intelligence in the official data book) have canonically failed exams before.

In short: Just by themselves, academic scores don't mean jack shit, if you want to have an accurate picture of someone's intelligence and capabilities - not to mention, potential.

Whiny wannabe edge-lord Shinsou should be grateful that there are generously kind people like Kaminari. I wouldn't have the ducking patience.

Aside from letting a peer know that their crappy behaviour is unwelcomed, and next to the example above, Kaminari’s social intelligence also shines in other moments.

The light novels lampshade that trait at least twice:

When he makes sure to include Kouda, making room for the latter to voice his thoughts if he wishes too.  

Another of the stories, narrates something along the lines of, ~he [Bakugou] had the feeling, that as long as Kaminari existed, Bakugou would never be alone.~

Kouda is one of the minor 1-A students. As such, he's often forgotten by the audience. But in-universe? They may not be close, but Kaminari Denki will never let anyone feel left out.

Even 1-A's snappy Pomeranian ends up appreciating him.

I mean, it starts with Kaminari running after Kirishima, who was following Bakugou. After a while, Kirishima and Kaminari trailed after Bakugou together. Since then, Bakugou has dragged Kaminari with him, and told the latter to "leave the rescue to the extras!" Thus, explicitly excluding Kaminari from 'those extras.'

And why wouldn’t you keep a good grip on such an awesome friend?

[larkral]

Oh hello again! Twice in one week? I KNOW! Thanks for the tags @imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @mooncello

@run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire and @monbons !!! Such an active week. I love it! Excited to read the COBB stuff that's coming out, and VERY enticed by many snippets and arts being posted right now!

So, this week has been a lot, BUT I did some crafting AND I started writing my Firstprince Soulmate BS. It is now over a thousand words? I don't know. My brain works in mysterious ways. My crafting is making a lampshade. I don't know, because I am very particular about what I like? Steps one and two of about a thousand steps on the current project I'm working on, but that's more than zero!

I've also done some work on Simon's two mums this week, though not quite as much as the Firstprince soulmates. So. Have six sentences of each:

Finally (already, always):

At lunch, after I sit down, Baz sits opposite me. He grits his teeth.  "Thank you," he says. Then into his water glass, he mutters, "Sorry." "Yeah," is all I can get out.  Penny sits down and doesn't say anything about it.

First Prince Soulmates BS:

 "Sorry, I'm only used to dressing like this at fundraising galas for the British Ornithological Society." "Of course," Alex volleys back, "The natural habitat of duck jokes." She laughs again, the column of her neck elongating as her head tilts back in delight, and Alex wonders if there might be at least one upside to having to attend The Royal Wedding.  He wonders if there's any way he can ask her if she intends to continue studying the annual coloration changes in the Gadwall remicle as they relate to anatidae seasonal monogamy and whether she thinks there's really an evolutionary path by which that's related to the wrist banding mark in humans. You know, without revealing himself as both a soulmate freak and a duck sex freak. There definitely isn't.

I promise there's a good explanation for why I've made Alex someone who knows all about duck sex, even though it may never appear on screen.

Tags under the cut!

I don't know who to tag for firstprince other than the folks I've already tagged for first prince and @kiwiana-writes, so consider yourself tagged in if you're a firstprince Six Sentence Sunday person.

Also tagging my usual Simon Snow crew: @stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission

@cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @basiltonbutliketheherb

@ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias

@petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars

@nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @that-disabled-princess

@shrekgogurt  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees

@j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @talentpiper11

[cowpokeomens]

@honeytama I’m so glad u asked

VAMPIRE JOLLY AHHHHH MY CLIT EXPLODED-

Sorry sorry okay so 😔 vampire jolly 😔 you saw a listing for a “personal assistant” and like, you’re desperate, okay? It’s paying damn near six figures and you didn’t realize moving to the city meant your rent would be $1600 a MONTH for the most humble one bedroom apartment you’d ever seen in your life. Never mind your aging cat and her exorbitantly priced fresh food and medication- Anyways! You don’t love the idea but you can’t beat the money, and it says they’ll comp you for gas, so fuck it! You can try! You apply and the person who listed says they’d be happy to interview you over dinner, Nice!

Only it’s a swanky restaurant, nicer even than the place you went to for your high school graduation with that one not-quite grandparent who owns multiple boats. And suddenly you feel very underdressed in your discounted Old Navy attire- though you at least had the sense to not wear jeans, so that’s a win? Whatever! You go in, tell the maître d’ that you’re a guest of some J. Karlsson, and then you try to ignore the way his eyes widen in shock! You don’t like that at all! You certainly don’t like the way you’re whisked clear through the restaurant, past the patrons whose eyebrows raise at the sight of your $12 loafers that you totally didn’t score from Amazon, into a dimly lit and empty backroom.

Only, it’s not empty? There’s a lone figure, sitting at a small table, barren save for a glass of wine. The room is illuminated by a few candles on the table, and you’re immediately like “damn I’m about to be made into a lampshade :-/ someone pls feed Snowball her vitamins when I’m gone 🙏” but then the person looks up and!

Oh!

What the fuck!

Because he’s HOT. He’s devastatingly hot, it’s unfair how hot he is, it’s unfair that you’re wearing Spanx that are two sizes too small because they’re from your junior prom, it’s unfair that you’re here in a pair of Old Navy slacks that dig into said Spanx uncomfortably, its unfair that his hair is cascading around him like some kind of sexy chocolate waterfall and your hair just sits there like normal fucking hair, it’s deeply deeply unfair that when he surveys you from behind the rim of his wine glass you want to roll over and bare yourself to him like a bitch in heat! But the world is cruel, so you pull out the chair opposite of him awkwardly, slumping down into it and immediately gnawing on your lip in anxiety.

His eyes are drawn to the movement, so you stop, correcting your posture and trying to look like a real person! He looks away, and you think he might even be 🤨 trying not to laugh 🤨 which would be charming if you weren’t so nervous! You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something or if he is, but he solves the problem by extending a hand and saying “hello, I’m Joakim Karlsson.” And you’re not a wild animal, you shake his hand back and introduce yourself, but then you realize how fucking cold his hands are and you can’t stop yourself from blurting “iron pills help with that!! I used to have freezing fingers and toes, but then I started taking iron and-“ and then you see that he’s looking very amused, so you shut up, because he’s a grown man he probably knows about iron supplements you dipshit-

But then he’s like “I’ll have to give that a try.” And you’re like aha I am already the best personal assistant in the land!! A waiter blessedly comes over and fills your wine glass, and it smells much nicer than the boxed stuff you usually get, so much nicer than you’re beginning to wonder if you can even afford to try it-

“Go ahead. Dinner is on my bill.” And you don’t need to be told twice, grabbing the glass and taking a tentative sip before accepting that, yeah, this is way nicer than Franzia could ever be. Your eyes slide over to his glass, brows furrowing when you realize it looks a lot….. deeper than yours? Almost thicker.

He follows your trail of sight and says “different bottle. A bit… fresher.” And you nod because you don’t know shit about wine, and who are you to judge if he wants to get himself something nice!! You’re sure whatever he spent on this glass for you was probably spare change compared to what his preferences are. Wine got grosser the more expensive it was, right? Or something like that.

You forget what you were thinking of when he leans forward, elbows bent for his face to rest on his hands, eyes locking with yours. “You applied for the personal assistant position.”

And you are so smart, you even remember to nod!

His mouth twitches, like he’s fighting off a grin, as he continues. “Do you have a resume with you?”

You nod again, brilliantly. He gives you a meaningful look, waiting, and you realize he probably actually wants to see the damn thing. So you scramble to pull it out, handing it over unceremoniously, and your hands are totally not absolutely shaking! Not at all why would you say that-

“Any previous experience in this line of work?” His eyes are on the paper- the pink paper, you groan internally, because you somehow thought that adding a “personal flair” would compensate for lack of actual expertise when you printed it off at 3AM last night.

“Um, I worked in a secretarial position in college, and then I was in an office for a few years-“

“But not specifically in the realm of personal assistantships?” His eyes dart up to you once, quickly, before resuming their perusing.

You really do try not to deflate like a sad birthday balloon. “Well, not specifically, no.”

He nods, closing your poor little resume folder, setting it down on the table. “Can we speak candidly?”

And you’re like he’s literally going to tell me I am the stupidest dumbest person in the world and I should walk directly into oncoming traffic and also I held my wine glass wrong because I’m an idiot but then he says “I’m really prioritizing discretion over experience. To be frank, you’re not qualified for this position-“ and the air literally hisses out of you because you are the saddest birthday balloon in the grocery store right now- “and don’t look so sad, it’s fine. I don’t care that you’ve never fetched coffee for a living. But, I do care about my privacy.” And then he’s leaning in and you can smell him and you didn’t know people could smell sexy!!! But he smells sexy!!! Is this nosefucking?? Is that what’s happening?? It takes you a full second to realize he’s speaking again but you tune in to the best of your ability “… and I’m just not particularly inclined to have someone writing a memoir about working for me after they choose to pursue other passions. You understand, I’m sure.”

And yeah you understand what you heard so you nod again!! And then he’s cocking his head to the side slightly, staring you down with an intensity that makes your cheeks heat up and you pussy clench on thin air as he inhales deeply through his nose before nodding once. “A trial run, then. I’ll have the paperwork sent over tonight. Please take your time to read through it, and let me know if you have any questions or concerns.”

He’s standing up then (was he that tall this whole time?? You didn’t think so??), so you stand up too, reaching for your bag, but he’s waving you off with one hand as he downs his wine with the other. “Stay, finish your wine, order a meal. I have business elsewhere, but as I said- the bill is taken care of.” And he’s walking away, some waiter magically procuring his jacket out of thin air! But then he stops! Turns back to you! Says, “Don’t forget dessert. Thank you for your time, enjoy your evening.” And then he’s gone! Poof! And you’re like????? What?????? Anyways I guess I have to write this now.

[dr-futbol-blog]

Suspicion

Suspicion (S02E05) is a Teyla-centric episode but it has some very interesting moments.

First, while we have to wait several seasons to hear McKay call Sheppard by his given name, which he only uses in tense situations, Sheppard does the exact opposite. He calls him Rodney most of the time but changes to McKay when things get serious.* The episode starts with McKay getting hit straight in the face with a wraith stunner, Sheppard quickly jumping in to check up on him. For the third episode in a row one of them winds up unconscious on the floor, albeit now at the onset of the episode.

This episode also marks the beginning of giving the audience a glimpse of how the private time between Sheppard and McKay differs from how they behave toward each other when other people are around. Sheppard shows that he cares about McKay ("You seem nervous"; "You still seem nervous") and twice in the episode makes sure that he is okay following a wraith attack (verbally and through touch). You could claim that he cares more about the safety of McKay because the other two members of his team are capable fighters, and surely that's a part of it. McKay is also a valuable asset for the expedition. But these things don't explain the tenderness Sheppard displays privately and how this turns to near flippancy the moment other people are within earshot.

By this time, they are already starting to work seamlessly as one which is really quite amazing considering how early days this is:

There's also a pattern emerging in that Sheppard is shown looking at McKay do sensual things (in the sense of relating to the senses). In the previous two episodes, we watched Sheppard watch McKay wolfing down a power bar, which might be interpreted as phallic.

In this episode, he watches McKay first drool from his mouth on the hospital bed and later, rub his foot on the table in the meeting room, and even later on, he is seen watching McKay's hands on two separate occasions.

What are you doing, Major?

The thing is, we are actually invited to watch Sheppard look at these things. He is making note of them. He pulls faces when he makes note of them. Sure, we can interpret Sheppard finding these things distasteful. Learning the idiosyncracies of his new team member, new friend. At the very least, we're supposed to find these moments humorous.

But he sure is paying attention to these things. Even when he's in a world of pain he's making note of them. Noticing and mentally cataloguing things that someone does is also a classic sign of attraction. One could also describe Sheppard as having an oral fixation as he brings up Rodney's mouth even completely unprompted: "At least your mouth still works fine."

We are actually asked to connect these things to sex in that Rodney is also stuffing his mouth during the "Size doesn't count" conversation in Hide and Seek (S01E03). The use of food as metaphor for sex is also lampshaded in this very episode:

Zelenka: I just can't bear the same meal day after day after day. McKay: Well, buck up a little. I'm trying to run a diagnostic. Zelenka: Sorry! McKay: I mean, we are stranded with limited resources in another galaxy. Come on, the nearest Bob's Big Boy is three hundred million light years away. We have to make do. If that means you have to eat my favourite food two days in a row, so be it. Zelenka: You enjoy military rations? McKay: I know. It's weird. Hospital food too. The only reason I don't like airplane food is you can't get seconds and I'm an absolute ...

But it's not just the mouth that Sheppard's fixed on, it's Rodney's whole entire body. His bodily functions. Which are also connected to food in the episode (as in, Sheppard graphically describes functions of the body and then jumps straight to food):

Sheppard: Without inertial dampening we'd be hit by so many gees our eyes'd pop, the skin'd pull away from our faces, our brains'd squish up to the back of our skulls and our internal organs would be crushed into these chairs... What about that sandwich?

In the beginning of the episode, Beckett tells McKay in front of Sheppard: "Your body experienced a full overload to its sensory and motor nervous system." It was the wraith stunner that did this to McKay but Sheppard seems to be suffering from a similar predicament just from observing the other man.

By the end of the episode the concept of hunger is highlighted through the captured wraith. Sheppard tells him (and bringing up someone's name unnecessarily is also a classic sign of attraction): "I wonder what hurts more: the gunshot wound or the hunger? Because I'd love to help out but how did McKay put it? We can't meet your dietary requirements."

They have every intention of starving the wraith. But the wraith is not the only one starving here. Sheppard is hungry for something that a turkey sandwich cannot satisfy.

.* We actually have to wait until the next episode to hear Sheppard use the name "Rodney" (in a non-tense situation, as it were) but it is implied that he is already using it by this episode in McKay's line "Oh, really? I thought you said, 'Rodney, you don't have to do this'," in which he refers to something he wishes Sheppard said and presumably communicating it in a way that Sheppard would say it. At the very least, in this episode McKay gives Sheppard the permission to use his... chosen name.

[abloomingperiod]

him | kim namjoon

"hey, you listening?" you ask as you make your way out of the bathroom and into the room your fiancé was situated.

"yes" he simply answers, voice calm and eyes and hands leaving his book to look at you.

when your eyes find his, you stop - on your tracks and your train of thought - to drink on the sight.

there he was, the reason you’re even planning and thinking about what is supposed to be the biggest and best day of your life for the last three months, since he dropped on one knee to ask for your hand - and later, to give you a glimpse of why you’ll need more than a week for your honeymoon.

there he was, hair growing over his neck - less than a mullet, just like you asked him to grow it into -, bare and pretty face, big and buff limbs glowing as the warm, small light from your lampshade illuminated them. sharp eyes, yet so calm and serene gaze expecting your next words.

speaking of them,

where exactly did they go?

“honey?” his deep voice asks with a small side grin, which you want to slap him for. does he thinks he’s helping you and your reasoning, when all you can think about is how remarkably low it is?

him, him, him. everything about him. all about him. him.

“right” you come back to earth, hands on your hips, “so... about our wedding”, you start, but can’t help and feel funny under his gaze, shrugging it off with an old, stupid joke of yours, “let’s end it off- nah i’m joking, but for real-”

as dumb as it is, it never fails to rip a small chuckle out of your sweet soon-to-be husband, and you swear to god it’s the prettiest sound in the world.

if it was possible to fall in love twice with the same person without even falling out of the first time, you’re sure his laughter would be responsible for it.

and once again, you’re standing there like an idiot, watching the other idiot that knows exactly what he’s doing when his lower lip gets pulled back by his teeth, and you feel like a teenager for the tenth time in the last 3 minutes. “...you okay, babe?”

just let your thoughts win and grab him, for god’s sake.

“i can’t keep my hands off of you” you confess, arms giving up, sighing and faking a frustrated face that could never be convincing. not when your legs are already folding and making their way onto his lap, slowly crawling with your knees to the only place you never get sick of in the world.

him, him, him. his skin, his warmth, his embrace.

everything about him. all about him.

“now why would i ever want you to do that?” he asks smoothly, hands immediately finding your waist and burning up your skin. his eyes held such a welcoming stare, you wish you could just say ‘i do’ right now and have him all for yourself ‘til your last day on earth.

“no but i do have something to say” you remember yourself and him, hands finding his waist and caressing around it - waist, tummy, chest, bones, everything you could find and paint with your own touch. “i was thinking, and maybe, we should throw a little something before the actual wedding, you know? like a pre-wedding thing”

he observes you, head slightly hanging to the side as his curiosity get to him.

“not that i don’t think it’s enough or anything!” you assure him, fingers going through his small silver chain that held your proposal ring in. “you’re gonna like this, hear me out: we probably want to drink our asses off. that’s just how we roll, right? but i know myself, and i know my limits... i’ll be straight up with you: i don’t think my insides can take cake, korean food and alcohol the way i wish it would.”

and there it is, one more laughing sound of his, but this time, a louder, bigger one.

the dumbass is laughing at your costs, now.

“you really can’t function outside of the ‘8 or 80′ style, can you?” his right hand flicks your forehead lightly “dumbass.”

“pardon? i didn’t ask for a funny tummy and i certainly don’t want it messed up at my own wedding. that’s a huge ass reason to throw a small something a few days before!” you interject, quickly pinching his sides, earning a cute squirm from him. “plus, i don’t wanna be bloated when i’m wearing my wedding dress.”

with that, he just stares at you for a second, and lets out a fair question as his eyes narrow at your intentions, “you’re not plotting this just because of that, are you?”

another thing you could easily hold accountable for a second fall for him: his caring.

handling and watching you more intently than yourself, sometimes.

god, it’s almost embarrassing how much you love this in him.

“no. and you know that. i really do have a suck ass stomach, you’ve seen how bad it gets” you say, easing his sudden seriousness, and with that you smile at him “plus, i want other korean stuff turning my insides out...”

he interrupts you with most delicious laugh you’ve heard in a long time - since the last time he laughed this hard (last than a day before). “ “god, you’re gross! okay, i see your point.”

“i knew you would. now, this can be very s-small,” you get into the details of your plan and his hands betray his incredulous gaze, as they travel down to the small of your back and rest on your ass, softly caressing it an earning a small tremble in your voice. “less than 20 people, your closest friends, my closes friends, a bar with at least 5 of the 10 drink options we’re having in the menu... we can bring the same flavor of cake...” your eyes keep scanning his beautiful face and the loving eyes he gives you, admiring the thought you put behind your little plan. “we can even wear a tie and a small veil! so everybody knows about it! who knows? maybe we even get a free drink. gotta milk our options out, baby.”

at that, you expect him to give you one more nice chuckle, or even a light slap on the butt, but he decides not to. instead his hands press you against his own lower body, and his plump lips attach themselves to the side of your neck. you let out a small sigh followed by a light chuckle “i’m serious!”

“i know you are” he defends himself, lips travelling north to your jaw and cheek, leaving hard pecks, making you smile like you’re high “you’re irresistible, that’s all”

you know for a fact he felt your pulse stumbling, fumbling and failing as his lips kept kissing you.

“enough for you to say yes?” you take advantage of his sweet words.

“i’m marrying you, isn’t that enough of an answer?” he asks, facing you with the most whipped out smile you’ve ever seen. “sure. anything for you.” you smile wildly at him, heart throbbing and lips mumbling a small ‘thanks’ as you peck his lips. “i can search for that bar, too.”

god, why is he so freaking him?

of course he can.

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he responds, smile never leaving his mouth, cheekily giving you his trademark wink along with it.

“you..... ugh!” your hands tangle ins his hair and your lips attack his just like you did when he proposed to you. your kiss is urgent, desperate even, and still, he manages to laugh against it. he pulls you flush against him, chest to chest and heart to heart, hands dancing around your ass.

you could never get sick of this place.

“fucking love you. can’t wait to put this ring on your finger” you pull back and confess, lips ghosting his as you watch your hands travel back to his chain.

“you and i both” he agrees, eyes and hand mirroring yours, gasping a bit. “can’t wait to see you in that dress” fingers caressing your whole torso: spectrum, under-boob, ribcage, waist, “and take it off.”

oh, are you longing for that honeymoon.

“and you will” you peck him again, “‘cause now i don’t need to care about my tummy”

his laughs fills your room and your eardrums with the most beautiful sound you can point out. his head fall back to the wall behind and his eyes close, and you wish you could have this sight and this sight only for the rest of your life.

“yes, your tummy is well taken care of”

“and that’s for you, too. i need my newly husband a hundred percent conscious and collected for the after party”

he lightly tsks at you "if i were you, i’d wish the opposite” he slowly grabs your ass and kisses the back of your ear. god, he feels like a delicious poison. “plus, i don’t think i can stay collected after watching you down that aisle.”

“you and i both” you repeat his words, head resting on his shoulder. “thank you, i owe you one.” and leaving a small kiss on his jaw.

“show me the dress?”

“never.”

“but i’ll search for the bar.”

“you did that on yourself.”

he jokingly scoffs and mumbles a small ‘fine’, and you fall in love with him all over again.

“but i’ll give you a hint. it’s white.”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

and he looks down at you, small smirk painting his face.

“yeah? wanna pay it back now?” he asks mischievously, as his finger trace your lower lip.

“i just might” you respond, kissing his thumb. his eyes hold a darker tone, and as your bodies almost mold into one with the proximity you’re in, you can feel just how much he might want it.

“...still wanted to see that dress, though.” he jokes, and you return to your position facing him, lightly slapping his rigid chest. he catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, softly kissing it, and travelling to the back of your hand.

“that gives bad luck, dumbass.”

as he keeps kissing your knuckles, his other hand ghost over your thigh, enticing you and making you shiver deliciously.

because that’s what he does. namjoon makes you stumble, tremble, flutter, shiver and fall.

him, him, him.

everything about him. all about him.

“you’re all the luck i need.”

him, him, him.

[williamrikers]

Some Personal Favorite BL Moments of 2023

this is inspired by @lurkingshan's post, thank you for that 😊

Best Show

be my favorite, hands down. this show hooked me right from the very beginning, and each week it kept outdoing itself. the kindest, most compassionate storytelling mixed with some absolutely amazing character journeys and a strong message at its heart, bmf will stay with me forever (and not only because i managed to snatch one of the utterly gorgeous box sets for my collection). 12/10 puffball music boxes

Best Scene

alan and wen pre- and post-breakup at the start of episode 5 of moonlight chicken. i've rewatched these nine minutes more times than i can count. both first and mix do some incredible acting here, and it's such an utter joy to watch. 5/5 crying firsts sliding down a wall

The Scene That Came For My Life The Most

look, i've talked about only friends episode 6 [4/4] before. you all already know that i desire mew carnally for what he did with that audio tape. i have also rewatched this scene an embarrassing amount of times. 96/69 illicit sex tapes

Most Rewatchable Show and Best Main Couple

this one goes to a boss and a babe. i have already rewatched this show twice this year, and i love it more on every single rewatch. i regularly lose my mind about how much i love this silly little show and start waxing poetic about how much this love story means to me, how much i adore gun and cher's weirdness, their communication, their commitment, their gentleness, their mutual respect, the way they help each other and heal each other, the way they make each other feel safe and loved, which my friends from the bl besties server can attest to. maybe one day, i'll put all of my ramblings into a coherent format, but for now please trust that this show is absolutely wonderful and extremely special to me. 1000/10 gaymer friends sleepovers

Best Premise (That Was Utterly Ruined By The Show)

i've got to say dangerous romance, although step by step comes in at a close second. after the second episode of dr, i was out here writing hundreds of words worth of meta, and then... well, then the show became what it unfortunately is, now. i still want to see the show that i was promised (a thriller about two poor brothers who get into hot water because of money issues and end up having to turn to crime to survive, all while the younger brother slowly falls in love with the biggest bully at school, and over the course of the show the bully needs to learn to become a better person and help sailom overcome the trust issues he should have had from growing up constantly threatened and sometimes physically abused by members of the mafia.) -20/10 stupid fucking windmills for ruining something that could have been amazing

Best Side Couple

tiwpor, you will always be famous to me. my school president itself might just have given us crumbs, but i licked those tiny crumbs right off the floor with delight, and when our skyy 2 made it canon, i lost my entire mind. i could not have asked for more. 2/2 couples t-shirts

Best Date

yang and phumjai on their practice date in episode 4 of love in translation was probably the sweetest thing that happened on any bl in 2023. in the later episodes, they had many more beautiful moments together as well as some incredibly amazing physical intimacy (plus, in the extended iqiyi cut, one hell of a foreplay scene), but their sweet date before they had even confessed their feelings has stayed with me. 11/10 slices of pandan

Best Beach Scene(s)

never let me go wins this one. no other show was as devoted to showing off their beautiful beach locations as nlmg this year. watching this show made me yearn for the sea. 1/1 tattoo of your boyfriend's name

Best Rooftop Scene

despite the stiff competition in the form of bmf and cherry magic thailand, last twilight has this one in the bag. the pain, the pining, the heartbreak, the complicated feelings, the desperate kiss... they even lampshaded this trope in the dialogue. stellar scene. 12/10 sunflowers

Best Sensuality

we've had a lot of high heat bls this year, some of them still ongoing, and since billy infamously said "a lot and deeply", i feel like the next episode of the sign might just blow all of our minds. i'm not awarding a best sex scene here so i won't have to eat my words in a few days—however, i feel confident in saying that when it comes to raw sensuality, no one is going to beat ray and sand in only friends this year, no matter how hard the characters on pit babe, playboyy and the sign might be trying. truly, nobody embodies sensual attraction like first and khaotung do. 69/10 sausages that represent blowjobs

Best Minor Character That Stole The Show

gotta agree with the masses here and say nawin laws of attraction. what a guy. every day i miss him. ∞/10 unhinged ex boyfriends

Best Viewing Experience

this is not bl, but it might as well be: midnight museum still feels like a fever dream, i have no idea what the plot even was, i understood maybe 10% of what was happening at any given moment, and i've never had more fun watching anything. this truly is the show of all time. 5/3 roles played by gun atthaphan

Wildest GMMTV Moment

also not a bl, but the piploy pissing in the car scene as an act of revenge in wednesday club would go down in history, if, you know, people had actually watched this show. what can i even say. 3/3 gratuitous pissing scenes

Most Anticipated Show Of 2024

i just had to find a way to mention my golden blood in this post. i am yearning for this show with an intensity i cannot describe. i literally need to see joss bridal carrying gawin as much as possible, it is on the baseline of my hierarchy of needs. no matter whether this turns out to be trashy fun, high camp, an actually serious show, or all three, i win. gmmtv could not have given me anything better to look forward to next year 💖

[raventhedracovis]

tell us about wordgirl bestie!

Will gladly use this as an opportunity to talk about a few headcanons that are canon in mine and @c0de-0f-the-clans reboot!

I'll stick with the characters we've done line ups for for now. Which would be: Becky/Wordgirl, Huggy, Tobey, Dr. Two-Brains, Chuck, The Butcher, Charlie, The Other Henchman, The Whammer, Invisi-Bill, Big Left Hand Guy, Ms. Question, and The Coach.

Becky/Wordgirl (or course we're starting with the girl herself):

Bi. She just is. I don't make the rules. Yes I do >:3

Non-binary but uses she/her pronouns. Comes from noticing in the show how casual she is with referring to herself as "mister". Even lampshaded in the Thanksgiving episode when she says "no more mister nice Becky! ... Or miss Becky. Either one :)".

She's got two birthdays, the day her parents adopted her and the approximate date she was actually born. Her birthday is always celebrated September 28th, but her actual birthday is closer to December 16th.

Part of the reason Becky sucks at art so much is because she sees way more colors than humans can perceive. A color combination that looks good to her just looks ugly or like the same shade of brown. Though even without the whole "painting with colors beyond human perception" thing she just generally sucks at art.

Becky is autistic and stims by pulling and messing with her hair. We also decided she has a bee necklace and she fidgets with it too.

Her full name is Rebecca but goes by Becky.

She's currently 4'5" and the shortest in her grade. When she's all grown up she's going to tower over her friends at around six feet (or more).

Bob/Captain Huggy Face:

Captain Huggy Face is not his real name (or title but I'll get to that in a later post). It's just the name Wordgirl came up with on the spot.

Just like Becky, Bob is only his nickname. Robert is his full name in the family.

Pan.

Non-binary as well. Just his vibes.

By Lexicon standards, he's considered colorblind. By Earth standards, he's not fhdh.

In his late 20's, but part of the reason is for a different post.

Chuck the Evil Sandwich-Making Guy

Trans man <3

Demi pan.

Chuck's full name is Charles Edward Guy.

Chuck is in his early 20's, a headcanon we pulled thanks to a flashback in the show where Tim and Sally are clearly around the same age they found and adopted Becky but Chuck is oh so small.

Dr. Two-Brains

He stands at 6'5" but slouches a lot and therefore looks more like 6'3".

Technically has three birthdays! One for Steven, one for Squeaky, and one for the day the two fused.

Pan. Can and will flirt with anyone and everything.

In his late 30's.

The Henchmen

The other henchman is Joey Meatball. We both had different ideas of what his name was and thought the combined name was funny.

The two are romantically involved <3

Charlie is 6'7", the other one is 5'2".

Both are in their 40's.

The Butcher

He's 6'9". Big man.

His full name is Jack Edison Shepherd Jr. He went by Butch for a while as a kid, and it kind of stuck.

Bi

The reason he struggles with words so much is because he has an expressive language disorder.

In his early 40's.

Tobey

While he was the tallest kid in 5th grade, he's only gonna be 5'4" all grown up, and it's going to make him so, so mad jhkdg.

We have also hit him with the autism beam.

He had braces at some point, as evidenced by a retainer that can be seen by his bed in most episodes. We have however, just given him braces in our reboot.

Tobey has anxious attachment style. Something I can literally talk about in paragraphs (and have. Twice.) and will probably share another day.

His birthday is reverse pi, 4/13.

The Whammer

The Whammer is half Greek, half Texan, and 100% professional wrestler. His father is a Greek immigrant who got into the professional wrestling career where he met The Whammer's mother, a professional wrestler from Texas.

His real name is Adam Minos.

Was supposed to follow in his parents' footprints and apprenticed under his dad. Unfortunately, his powers where deemed illegal for use in the ring.

In his early 20's.

He's 5'8".

Gay.

Invisi-Bill

He is romantically involved with Big Left Hand Guy. :]

In his early 30's.

He has ADHD.

Stands at about 5'11".

Gay.

Big Left Hand Guy

He is romantically involved with Invisi-Bill. :]

He's related to one of the reoccurring bank security guards.

Has anxiety.

In his late 30's.

He's 5'1".

Gay.

Ms. Question

Trans and non-binary. She's non-binary in the sense that she dodges any questions about her gender. No matter what, she will make you second guess yourself when you try to give her a label.

She's Afro-Latina.

Bicurious, because she's also dodge the question jdfkgh.

Her civilian name is Anne Neasia.

In her early 30's.

Very tall woman. Stands at 6'.

The Coach

The Coach has dwarfism. He stands at 4'8".

He's related to Timmy Tim-Bo. It's why he keeps him around.

In his late 40's.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Darkness Declares Glory | Chapter 12 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N - this fic deals with some very dark themes such as drug use, self-harm and suicidal ideation. Please proceed with caution and Minors DNI. There is a reader insert but it is very Spencer-centric.

Chapter Summary - After a really good day, Spencer finds himself backsliding. Maggie suggests a new and unconventional coping mechanism but Spencer is sceptical.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | eventual happy ending.

Warnings - Spencer backslides, self-harm, blood, swearing, handjob, non consensual activities in a dream, talk of masturbation, Tara’s flashback, past drug use, withdrawals, vomiting, masturbation (male).

WC - 5k

Chapter 12 - Entropy

What goes up must come down. It was sometimes terrifying how quickly his moods could change. He’d had the best afternoon with you in the library and the two of you had dinner together in the dining hall. And for the first time since Spencer arrived at PIW, he felt something akin to normal. 

Group therapy always put Spencer on edge but tonight it was worse than ever when Cedric made him talk more than he was comfortable doing. 

And then PT had been more draining than usual and Nick suggested going back to two crutches which Spencer adamantly refused. By the time he got back to his room, all Spencer wanted was to shoot up. 

Or failing that, hurt himself. 

There had to be something in this goddamn room he could use to inflict pain on himself. There had to be some small oversight on the facilities part. Since his attack on the nurse he wasn’t allowed to keep his toothbrush in his room which he guessed was understandable if not frustrating. 

He found himself staring at the light emanating from the small lamp on the nightstand until his eyes hurt and he couldn’t see straight. If only it burnt hot enough to hurt him…

He broke out of his stare off with the bulb and smiled to himself as he had an ephiany. 

Light bulbs are made of glass, Reid…

He fumbled switching it off and moved the lampshade out of the way. When he wrapped his hand around the bulb it burnt slightly, but not enough. He managed to unscrew it and he was grinning to himself. 

See, you’re still smart. Brain still works. 

He hopped up from the bed to the desk where he slumped in the chair. He lined the bulb with the corner of the desk before raising it and letting it come crashing back down onto the edge of the wood. As he’d hoped, the bulb shattered in his hand, sending splinters of glass into his palm. 

He rolled up the left sleeve of his sweater where his burns and picked skin were now almost healed. He emptied the glass from his hand onto the desk and picked out the biggest shard. With a large smile he took the shard to the soft flesh on his wrist. 

He cut himself once, twice, three times and watched in awe as the blood trickled from the wounds, down his arm and pooled on the carpet. 

I’m so fucking smart. How did I ever doubt that? 

Four cuts. Five. Six and his hand was coated in blood too. Seven and eight and he started to feel relief. He stumbled back to his bed, sleeve still rolled up and bleeding over his sheets as he laid down on his back. 

They’re gonna commit you for sure. This place will be a walk in the park compared to a padded cell. 

The pain swelled up his arm but it was euphoric. It felt good to take back some control over his fucked up life. He closed his eyes with a dopey smile still on his lips. 

His last coherent thought before he passed out was, fuck you, I win. 

***

He was back in the swimming pool only he wasn’t wading through the calming water he remembered. The pool water was replaced by a heavier, slightly sticky substance that lapped around his waist. He raised his hands out of the liquid and inspected them. As expected, they were coated in red. 

He was swimming in a pool of blood. 

“You really need to find a better outlet.” The voice startled him and he looked up to see you sitting cross legged at the edge of the pool. “This isn’t healthy.”

“That’s rich coming from you. I saw your scars.” He scoffed. 

“I didn’t say I knew of any healthier options.” You smirked playfully. 

He waded closer to you through the viscous liquid until he reached the edge you were sitting on. He lifted his arms which were covered in blood and leant on the side of the pool. 

“What else am I supposed to do?” 

You reached out for him and entwined your fingers in his messy locks. 

“I wish I had an answer for you.” You bowed your head to meet his and rested your foreheads together. 

Your breath fanned across his face moments before he pressed his lips against yours. He wrapped his bloodied arms around you, holding you close. He deepened the kiss, closing his eyes and giving over to you entirely. 

Somehow you were now in the pool, body flush against his. His hands wandered your body and he quickly discovered you were naked. So was he. 

He pressed you back against the side of the pool as his hand wandered between your legs. But he didn’t find what he expected. 

He suddenly pulled back from the kiss and George was leant against the pool side smiling at him. 

“Why’d you stop?” He smirked.

“Where…why…what?” Spencer blinked, turning and looking around only to find he and George were the only ones here. 

“Come here, Doctor Reid. I’ll make it better.” George pulled him closer and kissed him again, wrapping his arms around Spencer’s neck. 

As the kiss deepened once more Spencer started to feel stubble brushing against his jaw and he pulled back again only to be staring into a set of deep brown eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Luke laughed, running his finger over Spencer’s cheek. “You don’t want me?”

“I…I…” what the fuck is happening? 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Reid.” Luke moaned as he spoke, hand wandering down Spencer’s bloody torso now. 

“Where’s Y/N?” 

“Don’t worry about her. I’m here now.” Luke drew him closer and their lips met once more.

When he felt a hand wrap around his shaft, it wasn’t large and calloused like he expected and the lips now trailing down his neck weren’t rough like they had been moments before. The hand started pumping him and he guided the head up from his neck. 

“I missed you, Spencie.” Cat panted as she continued to stroke him. 

He tried to move back from her grip around his cock but there was something behind him blocking his way. 

“Stop. Don’t touch me!” He hissed at her. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, Spencie. It’s getting real old, real fast.” 

“He makes everything so difficult.” George’s voice came from behind him as his arms snaked around Spencer’s waist. 

“Stop fighting it.” Cat laughed as she quickened her pace and her lips found his neck again. 

George pressed himself against Spencer from behind, his hands wandering his torso. 

“You don’t always have to fight, Spencer.” Your voice came from the edge of the pool again where you were sitting next to Luke as the two of you watched Cat and George have their way with him. 

“I don’t want this.” He whined. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.” You shrugged. 

Spencer tried to fight against the two bodies he was sandwiched between while you and Luke continued to look on. The blood was up to his chest now, rising rapidly. 

“Please Y/N! Make them stop!” He whimpered. “Luke, do something!” 

“All you have to do is open your eyes.” George whispered in his ear. “Open your eyes and it’ll all be over.”

“He doesn’t want it to be over though. That’s what scares him the most.” Cat laughed against his neck. 

“No! No, I don't want this! I don’t want it. Open your eyes, Spencer! Open your fucking eyes!” He yelled to himself. 

Just before the blood pool rose above his chin, the bodies disappeared. He was alone again. Alone and drowning in a pool of his own blood. 

***

“Have you thought about masturbation?” 

Spencer’s eyes shot up from where they'd been staring at his shoes in a daze. He’d said barely a handful of words in the past half hour, instead choosing to stare at his battered converse. 

He’d been found covered in his own blood this morning by the nurse handing out medication. He’d been taken to the hospital wing by Doctor Sanderson, given a few stitches and been bandaged up. 

He’d been given the talking to once again, like he was a small child who couldn’t keep his hand out of the cookie jar and not a grown man who had slashed his arm with a broken light bulb. 

Maggie had tried asking him why and was met with small shrugs and responses such as “why not?” He was feeling particularly difficult today. 

He must have misheard what she’d just said. He just must have. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer frowned at her.

“I said, have you ever thought about masturbation?” She was smiling so innocently he still wasn’t sure he could have heard her correctly.

But he knew he had. 

“Uh…” his frown deepened. “In uh…what sense?” 

Did I miss a vital part of this conversation? 

“In the sense of your recovery.” 

Now she’d really lost him. 

“You…I…I don’t understand.” He shook his head. 

“Orgasms have a lot of health benefits as well as mental health benefits such as-“

“I know all the…benefits.” Spencer felt his cheeks burning. “Scientifically speaking of course.” 

“Well then you understand that frequent masturbation can have-“

“Yes, yes I get it.” His blushed deepened, spreading up down his neck. 

“The bottom line is, Spencer, we have to find something to alleviate some of your need for drugs and for hurting yourself. This can’t keep happening.” She nodded towards his bandaged arm even though it was sheathed in his sweater. 

“And you are suggesting I…that I uh…”

“Masturbate. Frequently.” 

Spencer didn’t think it was possible to be any redder. He retracted his neck, burying it down his sweater collar until it came up around his chin, like a tortoise retreating into its shell. 

“Uh…I don’t feel comfortable talking about this.” 

“Clearly.” Maggie smirked at him. “Spencer, it’s a natural part of life, everyone does it.”

“I am aware.” He wrapped his arms around himself. 

“So there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m…I don’t know. I’d just really rather not talk about it.” But he knew they were going to talk about it. 

“When was the last time you masturbated?” Maggie poised her pen above her notebook. 

She wants to write this down?!

“I-I don’t remember.” He lied, retreating further into his sweater. 

“Spencer…” She gave him a look of disbelief. 

“Oh my god.” He sighed, covering his face with his hands. “A few days ago.” 

“Good, that’s great!” Maggie practically cheered and jotted down some notes. “And how did you feel after?”

Spencer groaned and kept his eyes covered so he didn’t have to look at her. 

“Good I guess? Slightly guilty I suppose because it seemed…I don’t know…wrong?”

“And why did it seem wrong? Does masturbation usually feel wrong?” 

“Oh god please stop saying it.” He felt his face burning. “And no that’s not what I meant.” 

“What do you mean then?” 

Spencer sighed and rubbed his eyes before removing his hands from his face. He didn’t look at Maggie though, he stared back at his shoes. 

“Because of where I am, what I’m here to do. It seemed inappropriate I guess.” He picked at his shoelace. 

“I can assure you it isn’t. I think you could really benefit from it Spencer. I want you to promise me that if you start craving drugs or start thinking about hurting yourself, promise me you’ll-“

“Masturbate. Got it.” His cheeks burnt again. He just wanted this conversation to be over. 

Thankfully Maggie dropped it after that and he was able to stem his embarrassment the rest of the session. Until her parting words of “you can tell me how it goes next time” caused it to grow tenfold and he limped back to his room with a deep blush on his cheeks. 

The rest of the day all Spencer could think about was masturbation, which was less than ideal. Being here wasn’t exactly sexy circumstances. Did Maggie think men could just get it up whenever they wanted? Admittedly, Spencer didn’t usually have much of an issue with that apart from the time he’d been on Prozac anyway. 

Spencer knew all he’d need to do is close his eyes and think of you and…

…yep that did the trick. 

He leant forward, his elbows on his knees to try and cover himself as he was sitting in the courtyard waiting for his visitor. It really wasn’t the time to be trying out techniques to get it up. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. At least he knew that it worked, he supposed. 

As long as he didn’t think about you, the problem would resolve itself. 

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. 

“Spencer!” 

His eyes shot open and thankfully his deep breaths had worked and he was no longer pitching a tent in his pants as she made her way towards him. 

“Tara.” He smiled, pushing himself up with the help of his cane. 

Tara beamed at him and wrapped her arms around him the second she was in reach. 

“It’s so good to see you.” She spoke into his ear. 

Spencer wrapped his free arm around her.

“It’s good to see you too.” It was good to see her, it wasn’t a lie. 

But he still needed to see Emily. Although he wasn’t in the least surprised that it wasn’t her who came to visit. The hug ended and Tara was still smiling at him, albeit a little sadly. 

“Do you want to walk around? The gardens are really nice.” Spencer offered. 

“Sure that sounds nice.” She nodded. 

She let Spencer go first, leading the way towards the winding path that travelled the institute's gardens. It was a slow amble, what with Spencer’s injury and walking stick but it was a sunny day and she relished the feeling of the sun beating down on her face. 

“So,” she gave him a sideways glance as they walked. “How are you?”

Spencer wanted to laugh because it was such a loaded question and one with so many possible answers. But lying to Tara Lewis was one of the hardest things. He knew she wouldn’t be placated with a vague lie like the others. 

“I have good days and I have bad days.” He knew that wouldn’t be enough for Tara so he continued. “Ok so I have completely terrible days and I have mediocre days.” 

“What are your completely terrible days like?” She asked and it felt a little like he was in therapy. 

If anyone else had asked, Spencer would have avoided the question. But Tara was so easy to spill his guts to. 

“Well my last completely terrible day was yesterday. And I smashed a lightbulb in my room and cut myself on the glass.” He sighed as he spoke. 

Tara’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. 

“And your mediocre days?” 

“I don’t smash lightbulbs and hurt myself?” He gave her a wry smile. 

“Fair enough.” She chuckled a little. 

“You’re the only person I’ve been honest with about that.” Spencer mused out loud. 

They rounded a corner and started through the rose garden. The smells coming from the flowers were oddly calming. 

“That’s understandable. You’ve known JJ, Garcia, Rossi and Emily for a really long time. It’s easier to talk openly with people you don’t know as well.” Tara told him like he didn’t already know that. 

“They baby me.” He said instead. “They still see me as some little kid. You don’t see me that way because you didn’t know me when I was fresh out of the academy and the baby of the team.”

“You’re still the baby of the team.” She teased. 

“I suppose.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand that wasn’t clenched around his cane. “Can I ask you something that might sound a little weird?” 

“You can ask me anything.” 

“I’m asking not as my friend. I’m asking in a professional capacity.” 

Tara glanced at him again with a small frown. Spencer looked away from her, knowing he couldn’t look her in the eye and ask what he wanted to. 

“Shoot.” 

He exhaled noisily, in slight disbelief he was actually going to talk to her about this. 

“What do you know about…unconventional forms of therapy?” 

He felt Tara’s eyes on him. 

“Such as?” She questioned. 

Again he exhaled loudly. 

“Masturbation as a form of recovery.” He mumbled, half hoping she wouldn’t hear him. 

But of course she did. 

“Oh.” She looked away from him, focusing on the rose bushes. “Uh well…I mean as well as the obvious of providing pleasure, it does benefit your health and mental well-being. Research and anecdotal reports suggest that sexual stimulation may help relieve built up stress, achieve better sleep and a better mood, it can help prevent anxiety and depression and can improve self esteem. But I’m sure you know all that.” 

Spencer nodded, staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak so she continued. 

“It releases dopamine which obviously helps put you in a better mood. Also oxytocin is released during orgasm which lowers cortisol levels. And endorphins which will help lower pain. Really the list goes on and on.”

“Forget I asked.” Spencer felt his cheeks staining red. 

Amusement danced in Tara’s eyes as she saw the blush creeping across Spencer’s face and neck. 

“I assume your therapist has suggested-“

“Yes.” 

“And you’re uncomfortable doing-“

“Not usually.” He slowed his pace a little as his leg started to ache. “But in here…yes kind of.” 

Tara clearly sensed his pain and guided him to a bench in the centre of the rose garden. 

“You know all the facts and statistics on pretty much everything. So I’m sure that you know all the benefits of masturbation, Reid.” 

His blush deepened and he looked down at his shoes. 

“I really wish I hadn’t brought this up.” 

“I’m honoured you feel you can talk to me about it. Even if you can’t look at me when you do.” Tara chuckled. 

“I spent a long time sleeping around while I was high.” He confessed out loud. “And I never batted an eyelid. I am very aware that mastur…that it is just a natural part of life. I just feel weird talking about it.” 

“Understood.” Tara smiled to herself. “The last time I saw you, you were with a woman.” 

“I was?” He suddenly looked at her, wide eyed. 

“Yeah, pretty young thing. I didn’t want to interrupt so I left you to it.” 

“When was this?” 

“A few months after you left the BAU I guess.” 

“What did she look like?”

Tara pulled a face as she thought back. 

“It was dark. I didn’t get a good look. And her face was kind of obscured by yours. She was up against a wall, you were a little preoccupied with your tongue down her throat.” 

Spencer’s blush returned and subconsciously he rolled up his sleeve a little so he could toy with the woven bracelet. 

“Goddamnit I wish I could remember.” He groaned. 

When he looked back at Tara, she was staring at his bracelet with a slight frown. 

“I’ve seen that before.” She spoke quietly, almost to herself. 

Spencer looked from the bracelet to Tara and back again in quick succession.

“Where?” 

Tara looked up and met his gaze and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. 

“It was dark but I’m sure that was it.” 

“What? That was what?” Spencer begged to know.

“The arms wrapped around your neck…one of them had that bracelet on the wrist.” 

Spencer looked back at the bracelet, the one you’d given him the other night. He ran his fingers over the threads. 

“Are you sure?” He croaked. 

“Pretty sure.” Tara nodded. 

Spencer closed his eyes and kept his finger pressed against the bracelet hoping to jog something from his fractured memory. 

He fled his apartment, the dilaudid coursing its way through his veins. Why had he spent so long fighting this? Why had he been so desperate to maintain his sobriety? After one hit, he was already hooked. He knew there was no way he would ever stop again. 

He felt like he was on top of the whole world. It was undoubtedly the best Spencer felt since leaving prison. And he already knew it wouldn’t be the last time he got high. In fact he decided then and there he never wanted to be sober again. 

If dilaudid made him feel this amazing, why would he ever want to give it up? He stumbled out onto the sidewalk, euphoria flooding his every nerve. Yes, he was definitely going to do this again. 

His heart simultaneously raced and slowed. His lungs and chest felt like they were on fire. His brain was running rampant, bouncing around thoughts at a thousand miles a minute. 

The world seemed brighter somehow even though it was still the middle of the night. He felt like he was walking among the clouds, floating in a sea of drugs. He was smiling to himself. Spencer didn’t know the last time he smiled. He wasn’t even sure he could smile anymore. 

This was the sensation he’d been searching for since he left prison. No, this was the sensation he’d been searching for his entire life. He was so caught up in his exhilaration that he didn’t even see the other person walking his way and clearly they didn’t see him either as suddenly he found himself colliding with another body. 

“Sorry! So sorry!” He laughed, helping steady the other person by their shoulders. 

“I’m sorry.” They giggled. “Didn’t see you.” 

The most mesmerising set of eyes stared back at Spencer and he thought she must be a goddamn angel because he’d never laid eyes on anyone so beautiful. She simply couldn’t be human. 

The small part of his brain that was still functioning properly told him she was high too. And Spencer had an overwhelming urge to do unspeakable things to her. 

Not normally one to be so bold, the dilaudid took over and before either of them spoke again he took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back against the nearest wall. 

He didn’t give her a chance to speak before he crashed her lips into his. But judging by the way she kissed him back and the way her arms snaked around his neck, she didn’t mind. 

He plunged his tongue frantically into her mouth. She tasted bitter. Coffee? No, not coffee…

…cocaine. 

He pressed his body flush against hers and took hold of her delicate face in his hands. He was hard in no time at all and she must have known because she grinded against him furiously. A soft moan left her lips and he felt it vibrate against his own. 

He had to have her. He had to have all of her. 

He moved one hand from her face and down her body until he was cupping one of her breasts through her shirt. She moaned again, hips rolling against his. 

She pulled him closer and explored his mouth with fervour. He was so caught up in her he forgot where they were, didn’t notice passers by stop and gawk at the display. 

And he had no idea one of those onlookers was an old team member, slightly shocked by what she was seeing. 

His hand moved from her breast, down her bare thigh and then up her skirt. He ran his fingers over her lace panties and he could feel her wetness seeping through the fabric.

She giggled against his lips and then suddenly broke the kiss. She smiled at him before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him down the side of the building. He found himself in a dark alley, and now it was her turn to push him up against the wall. 

She ran her fingers over his jaw, down his neck and chest and came to a stop at the bulge in his pants. He moaned even though there were two layers of fabric separating them. She giggled again and it was already Spencer’s new favourite sound. 

She had a curious look in her eyes and he knew it was because of the drugs coursing through her system. He knew because he was sure he had the same look in his. 

She toyed with the button of his slacks, making quick work of undoing it and sliding them down his hips along with his boxers just enough to free his erection. He hissed as the cool night air hit his sensitive skin but it was nothing compared to the noise he made when she wrapped her hand around his shaft. 

He moaned, involuntarily bucking his hips. Her hand was so small and delicate around his cock. He glanced down to watch the way she worked him, hand moving fast and hard, up and down around him. 

He barely noticed the purple and gold woven band adorned on her wrist as she strived to push him towards his brink. 

His eyes opened with a start and Tara was observing him curiously. 

“Did you remember something?” She sounded a little concerned. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe.” He chewed on his lip. “I never know if they are real memories or if I fabricated them.” 

“Reid, you’re sweating. A lot. And you're shaking.” She reached for his shoulder. 

“That would be another bout of withdrawals. They come and go.” He sighed in defeat. 

He was used to it by now but that didn’t mean they didn’t suck. But he was better at ignoring them by now.  

“Let me help you back to your room.” Tara stood and helped Spencer to his feet. 

He let her walk with him back through the gardens and into the main building and she walked close to him down the corridor to his room. She helped him lay down, by this point he was drenched in sweat. 

“Do you want to get undressed or…?”

“No, I’m freezing.” His teeth chattered a little. 

She draped the bed sheet over him and tucked him in like he was a small child. 

“Get some rest.” She smiled softly at him. 

“Thanks for coming, Tara. It was really good to see you.” He spoke but his eyes were already closing. 

“Anytime, Spencer.” She whispered as she quietly backed out of the room. 

Spencer’s whole body was shuddering and his skin was damp with perspiration, causing his clothes to stick to him. God he hated this. This was the worst feeling in the goddamn world. 

What he wouldn’t give to make it all go away with the release of drugs. If he had more energy he might have considered taking Maggie’s advice. But right now all Spencer wanted to do was sleep. 

And maybe if he was lucky, he might never wake up. 

***

He spent most of the night he wasn’t asleep vomiting up every little bit of food he’d eaten the last few days. It was the worst the withdrawals had been in a while and it only made him want to use more. 

All of this could be solved with one more hit of dilaudid or a tiny taste of cocaine. Thankfully by morning he felt better, not good but not as terrible as he had done. 

He limped down to the bathrooms after his medication was distributed and stood under the flow of water staring at the purple and gold band. 

And just from looking at it, the thoughts of a stranger's hand wearing that bracelet wrapped around his shaft, his cock was standing at attention within seconds. 

He was alone in the cubicle, no one could see him. If he focused enough he could tune out the sounds of other patients showering around him. 

It had to be you that had jerked him off in that alleyway. It had to be, didn’t it? In his mind he could see your beautiful face, hear your delightful giggle as you made him come with your hand. But Spencer knew his memory couldn’t be trusted these days. 

Without consciously deciding to, his hand had wandered of its own accord and was already stroking himself, using the water from the shower as lubricant. He closed his eyes and pictured your face as you touched him, thinking of the way you moaned when his own hand worked its way inside your panties. 

His toes curled on the tiled floor, imagining how you felt when his fingers dove inside of you. 

“Make me come.” He heard your breathy voice in his ears. “Please make me come.” 

He chewed his lip to stop his moan leaving his mouth as he picked up his pace. 

“More! More! I need more!” 

He envisioned the way your skin tasted when he’d practically ripped your shirt open with his free hand and taken your nipple in his mouth. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” 

His orgasm was already building, his chest and stomach tightening as he drew himself towards the edge. 

“Gonna come. Oh fuck, I’m gonna come!” 

He thought of the way you felt clenching around his fingers and visualised your face contorted in pleasure as you came. He was so close, he needed the release more than he realised. 

Seconds before he let his orgasm consume him, there was a loud knock on the cubicle door. 

“Doctor Reid, that’s long enough now.” A nurse's voice permeated his sordid thoughts. 

He groaned loudly, immediately dropping his hand back to his side. 

“I’ll be right out.” His voice shook a little as he spoke. 

He hadn’t even had a chance to wash himself. He’d been too caught up in pleasuring himself. 

“Now please, Doctor Reid.” 

He rolled his eyes and shut off the shower, feeling frustrated and on edge from his close brush with his orgasm. He dried himself off and dressed quickly, his previously throbbing erection now a thing of memory. 

He hobbled out the cubicle with his cane and over to the sink to brush his teeth. It was going to be a long day. 

[maspers]

Okay so I have an idea for a Halloween movie

Not a horror movie. A Halloween movie. Spooky tropes up the wazoo. Action-packed comedy, with a taste of camp. Banger soundtrack. I don't have all the details down, but the basic gist is a pair of monster hunters ala Supernatural engage in shenanigans. Other deets include:

-The Monster Hunters duo is a blonde woman named Jack and a guy of ambiguous race (Asian-Hispanic mix?) named Cygnus, both in their mid to late twenties. They speak with British accents, but are repeatedly identified as Americans. They take turns wearing the same pair of glasses. If the audience looks closely in a couple shots they will realize Jack and Cygnus are wearing matching wedding rings, but this is the only indication whatsoever that they are married, and the fact that both of them rampantly flirt with everyone else doesn't clarify anything. 

-Jack's name is not a nickname, and is established as being her actual name. Cygnus's name is actually short for something, but we never find out what. 

-Jack speaks directly to the fourth wall often, Ferris Bueller style. Often to supply witty commentary and exposition. Nobody else does this. Cygnus is the only other character to acknowledge the fourth wall's existence, but he never addresses it directly. Once or twice when Jack is explaining things Cygnus will say something like "don't forget to tell them X" or "you forgot x" implying addressing the fourth wall is exclusively Jack's thing. 

-Enough lampshading to make CinemaSins swoon. 

-The film starts with a very stereotypical castle owned by a (male) mad scientist. Cygnus is being held captive. He jokingly flirts with the scientist. But also very quickly mentions Jack, thus ensuring that the movie fails to pass the Reverse Bechdel Test. 

-Jack, meanwhile, is providing exposition to the audience and skillfully breaking into the place, beating up bad guys and loading an Igor ripoff into a catapult. "Skullcrusher Mountain" by Jonathan Coulton plays as the opening credits appear while Jack sneaks further into the building. 

-After Cygnus is rescued, both our heroes escape in a convertible. The castle is on fire. Jack assures the audience not to worry, as no American castles are real castles anyway. 

-The Villain is a very impressive politician, ideally played by Blake Lively. Her goal is to convince the monster populace to support her and help her win the upcoming election, supposedly so that she can make things easier for monsterkind. In reality she plans to tear apart the masquerade and expose monsters and trick the regular humans into destroying them. Rude. Jack and Cygnus aren't really aware of this plan at first but they do know someone is planning something with the less reputable parts of the supernatural world and so they want to put a stop to it. 

-Jack and Cygnus need to infiltrate a fancy party. The goal is to seduce a vampire hostess and steal something she is carrying on her person. Cygnus volunteers but Jack shuts him down because the last time he tried to seduce something (a succubus) he panicked and stabbed himself with a fork (flashback scene included, apparently happened in Topeka). So Jack goes to the party instead. 

-Band at party is playing an epic waltz version of the Monster Mash. Cue highly attractive dance between Jack and the Sexy Vampire Hostess. 

-Meanwhile Cygnus goes disguised as a member of the kitchen staff. Unfortunately all the Kitchen staff are secretly robots. They attack. Cue epic fight scene with comedic/awesome usage of kitchenware. "Coconut Mall" from Mario Kart is playing. 

-Cut back to Jack. She and the Sexy Vampire Hostess have moved to a side room. 

*Jack and vamp kiss*

"Oh my… Garlic-dusted lip gloss? Spicy. I like it."

"Oh, if you like that, then I have something even spicier."

"Do tell" 

*Jack stakes Vampire through heart*"SIKE" 

-Jack escapes down fire escape. Opens window to kitchen. Last lap version of Coconut Mall can be heard as Cygnus jumps out, his hair covered in Cheese. 

-I'm still shaky on the plot but they decide to go to Denny's to unwind and figure out where to go next. The postmodern jukebox version of Stacy's Mom plays as they pull up. 

-Meanwhile the villainess is scheming and is like "frick the monster hunters killed my vampire I need to bring in the big guns" 

-Also there's a police officer played by either Levar Burton or Samuel L. Jackson, who shows up right after Jack and Cygnus leave a place. Smooth jazz plays, and the lighting darkens. He seems to be familiar with our heroes, but whether he wants to help them or arrest them is unclear. Other cops are present, but are CGId to look like identical clones of ambiguous race and gender. The detective never talks to them directly, because that would require giving them personalities and we've got too many characters already. 

-So Jack and Cygnus arrive at Denny's, get in a brief debate about drinks (they order a lot of different kinds) when a motorcyclist dude shows up. Motorcyclist dude is a werewolf in the villainess's employ. He warns them to either stop hunting their lead or die. Jack and Cygnus are very sad about this, because the werewolf is not wearing a shirt under his jacket and has very attractive abs that they do not want to kill. They decide to fight anyway. Immediately everyone else in the Denny's turns around to reveal they are actually rodeo clowns. Classic wild west shootout ensues. Jukebox in the corner goes off and plays "Saturday Night". 

-Our heroes successfully take down most of the rodeo clowns but then the werewolf proceeds to wolf out (much to the joy of our heroes, as he reveals more muscles. Jack is visibly shown getting a nosebleed, and Cygnus swoons) and chase them out of the Denny's. Inexplicably, the Denny's looks different than it did when they first drove up. This is never commented on. 

-Car chase starring Cygnus and Jack in their convertible and werewolf on Motorcycle Ensues. They are forced to trick him into swerving off a cliff. Danny Boy plays dramatically as he falls. Our heroes Mourn the death of the abs. 

-Villainess has either a kindly father who looks like a college professor or an innocent husband who dresses like Makoto Naegi (if the latter, is played by Ryan Reynolds of course). They ask if villainess is going too far. Villainess responds by singing "Girls just want to have lunch" and ominously approaching father/husband. Screen blacks out before sounds of eating are heard. They are later seen with a large head bandage and muttering the chorus to the aforementioned song. 

-Detective enters and investigates the Denny's (which again looks different) and dispatches the remaining rodeo clown with a taser. 

-Heroes pull up to Villainess's fancy mansion. Various attempts at entering are foiled. Jack points out they need to enter in order to progress the plot, so they take the car and crash it directly into the front door. They then make their way through the rooms, casually dealing with a variety of supernatural threats. Reptiles and Samurai by oingo boingo plays. 

-Villainess is getting really mad that she hasn't even really been able to enact her plan yet at ALL (elections are still like a month away) and she wants the heroes gone. None of her traps have worked (even the pit trap, which Jack and Cygnus swung over Indiana Jones style, complete with the iconic music) so she goes to meet them herself in the main hall. 

-Jack and Cygnus enter main hall, with Jack playing Yankee Doodle on a piccolo and Cygnus accompanying on the drum. Villainess rebukes them for not taking her seriously. Jack tells her to put her money where her mouth is and challenges Villainess to a sword Duel. They proceed to have an epic, fully choreographed Princess-Bride-level swordfight (which just as much homoerotic tension) while an original Halloween song plays. The song heavily features an organ and electric guitar, which are being played in universe by the Villainess's father/husband and Cygnus respectively. 

- "Are neither of you going to take this seriously?"

"Of course not, have you even been paying attention to the film? This ain't Supernatural."

"Though to be fair, people like Supernatural." 

-Abruptly Villainess (just as she's disarmed) is like "enough I can't take it anymore" pulls out a gun and shoots at Cygnus, grazing him in the arm. Record scratch. Dead silence. Villainess rants about how Jack and Cygnus are being completely nonsensical and complains about a whole bunch of other inconsistencies in the story. Jack and Cygnus respond by poking holes in her own apparent evil scheme, Villainess loudly proclaims it would have actually worked. Jack and Cygnus open doors to reveal the Detective, who strides in to arrest Villainess. 

-Detective does have a legitimate warrant and I want there to be some kind of joke that it was easy for him to get one because of some other crazy sus things the Villainess was doing but I need to do more research on how Warrants work. He asks if our heroes would like to provide any commentary, but they both shout "we plead the fifth" and jump out a window. Detective chuckles and comments "Just like in Topeka".

-Jack and Cygnus ride a zip line down a hill to a nearby graveyard. They sit on a fence together, make a couple of bad puns, and Cygnus tries to soliloquize about the apparent lack of Skeletons in the entire film but is quickly cut off by Jack thanking the audience for watching. Credits roll as "Bittersweet" by Panic! At the Disco plays. 

Think it would be called "Pumpernickel" 

[zeravmeta]

so i saw kfp4. thoughts below. spoilers obviously read or dont im not your mom

unsurprisingly it was disappointing but surprisingly not disappointing in the way I expected, and honestly I came out of the movie a bit madder than expected because the concepts presented could have actually been pretty amazing if done well

so the main plot as presented is that the chameleon is the cool new badass villain whose main gimmick is stealing the powers of past kung fu villains and thus po and the new ally zhen must go and stop her!!! and this is where the problems begin

im just gonna say it: zhen is not only disappointing but also a character that functionally should not exist. shes immediately presented as being a Cool and Quirky Dastardly Rouge and so much of the movie hinges on us liking her but we have basically zero reason to, and throughout the movie she has literally no character arc. the twist is that she was working for the chameleon the whole time to steal po's staff, and now suddenly she feels bad about it and wants to help po because its. the right thing i guess. thats word for word the reason given. shes ultimately a nothing character who basically coin flips twice in terms of personality, and there's nothing to her

the chameleon, on the other hand, is beautiful missed opportunity

so as shown in the trailers her main gimmick is stealing the powers of past kung fu masters to be your standard copycat villain, but unlike what was expected, her backstory actually makes her pretty interesting:

the chameleon is just like po

she was a kung fu super fan who went from master to master across china, to every and any dojo she could find, all so that she could actually properly learn kung fu, but she was rejected for being too small. too weak. for being nothing more than a little runt, the same way po was just a big flabby panda that no one believed in

because of this, she decided to become a sorceress, with the goal of actually stealing the kung fun mastery of the masters in the spirit realm so that she can actually be worth something and no one could ever tell her that shes lesser again. literally the first line she says to tai lung when she summons him (and to some of the other masters) is that shes a big fan, and continually keeps naming the special techniques of each master she takes from ala the way po fanboys when being attacked by other masters

Honestly, she could have been the perfect case for a redeemed villain, because the big next lesson shifu presents to po in this movie is that its time for him to move on from being the dragon warrior, and to select a successor to that title while he becomes a spiritual grandmaster, equal to oogway, to be better than not only what others believe but what he himself believes. The chameleon and po were both characters that no one believed in and who succeeded despite the odds, which the chameleon herself says and po lampshades by going "man the amount of times a villain has told me we're identical, but this time its true".

Thats part of where the other issues come in: Tai lung and the spirit warriors summoned.

Tai lung in this film was not only missed opportunity, but he (and the past villains shen and kai) are so wildly out of character its kind of weird that theyre even in this movie. They basically show up at the tail end of the film just to have their powers stolen and get put into cages, tai lung says oogway made the wrong choice with po (kai and shen dont have a single speaking line), and when po wins we have tai lung going "maybe... oogway was right after all" and then they all bow to po and go back to the spirit realm.

..................yeah.

quick addendum a whole bunch of characters were also out of character, mainly shifu being a bit more dickish than he usually is, and especially po whose just like. a cop?? about zhen. "youre a thief therefore EVIL" and shying away from the criminal underworld section of the movie. like guys this is the guy who broke into a museum literally so he could geek out about the displays. but yeah

If they Seriously Truly Desperately Needed the successor plot point, there is both tai lung and the main fucking villain as options, and each are charming for their own reasons and leagues better than zhen: Tai Lung to finally achieve his dream after he'd basically been lied to his entire life and maybe reach some kind of reconciliation with shifu, and the chameleon to follow through on the themeings of the franchise of someone's belief and hard work actually being what allows them to be good at kung fu

instead we get lame fox zhen whose so much of a nothing character that the best sequence with her was right at the end of the movie when the furious five cameo and go through a montage of her eating shit the way po did initially.

aside from all the plot stuff the movie is a little wonky animated, like it actually is well animated and cool like all KFPs but the character designs and backgrounds did feel a little out of place, though the chameleon def works style wise.

ultimately malding because this movie could have actually worked really well if they just switched out a few things: Have the chameleon fool po for his staff, steal tai lungs powers, and then tai lung and po have to work together to defeat the chameleon with the rest of the movie having them reconcile as two people who worked towards impossible expectations, ultimately culminating in them defeating the chameleon with this same lesson, and maybe po either anoints tai lung as the new dragon warrior (if hes allowed to stick around) or maybe the chameleon as the new dragon warrior and someone for po to help redeem

boom far easier 10/10 movie with no stupid aggressively "like me pls" fox character. oh well, i love stale bread and water without any ice, see you in kung fu panda five everybody