#but i also think. why am i trying so hard to be reasonable as if i havent been making up pure self-indulgence content this whole time

[markrosewater]

I want to speak out against the whole push towards DEI. I feel that ever since you made the push to make identity the forefront of a character it has hurt the stories you tell. Captain Sisay's race was never the focus of her character and she was a complete badass! And I fear if you did it over again Gerrard would be trans, black and disabled just because. It also cheapens the stories of world devastation when characters worry more about their gender than Bolas destroying everything.

The reason I started this blog is so we can have frank conversations about things, so please let’s talk about this.

Imagine if every time you turned on the TV or watched a movie, no one looked like you. For some of us, that’s never happened. We see ourselves constantly, so it’s hard to truly understand what not seeing yourself represented in media is like.

I do have a personal window to this experience. While I am white and male, there’s an area where I am the minority - my religion. Jews are just under two and a half percent of the US population. I have had many experiences where I’ve been in situations where everything is geared towards a group I do not belong to, and zero consideration is given that not everyone at that event is part of the majority.

You just feel invisible and like an outsider. It’s not a great feeling. And I just experience it a tiny portion of time, only things that are geared specifically towards something religious. Most minorities have this feeling all the time, whenever they’re outside their personal community.

Now imagine, after years of not seeing yourself ever, you finally see someone that looks like you, but nothing about the character rings remotely true. They don’t sound like you, they don’t act like you, the facts about their day-to-day life are just wrong. It’s clear whoever wrote the character didn’t truly understand the lived experience of the character, so the character feels fake.

You bring up Sisay. Michael Ryan and I didn’t technically create Sisay (she played a small role in the Mirage story), but we did do a lot to flesh out her character as the creators of the Weatherlight Saga. We turned her from a minor character into a major one.

And while I’m proud, in general, of our work on the Weatherlight Saga, I don’t think we did justice to Sisay as a character. Neither Michael nor I have any knowledge of what it’s like to be a black woman. Nor did we ever talk to someone who did.

And if you’re someone like us that has no knowledge of that experience, you probably didn’t notice. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

Imagine if we made a movie about your life, and we just made everything up. We invented people you never knew, we gave you a job you never had, and we had you say things you’d never say. The movie might even be a good movie, but your response would be, but that’s not my life - that’s not me.

Now imagine we put the movie out, and people that never met you assumed that was what you were like. When people met you for the first time, they assumed things, because, you know, they’d seen the movie.

That’s what misrepresenting people does. It not only makes them feel not seen, it falsely represents them, spreading lies, often stereotypes, making people believe things about them that aren’t true.

Our move towards diversity is just us trying to better reflect the world and the people in it. We’re trying to do to everyone else what a certain portion of people get every day without ever having to think about it.

But why are we “making it the forefront of their character”? We’re not. We’re making it a part of their character. But in a world where you’re not used to ever seeing it, it feels louder than it is. Things that are a natural part of the world that you’re used to feel like the background of the story because you understand the context to it.

If a man kisses his wife before going off to a battle, that’s not a big deal. It’s just a thing a husband might do to his wife when he leaves. It’s not the forefront of his character. It’s just part of his life. But you’ve seen it hundreds of times, so it feels normal.

When someone does something that isn’t your lived experience it pulls focus. It seems like a big deal, but only because it’s new to you. It’s just as mundane a thing to that character as the man kissing his wife is to him.

Even the turn “pushing” implies that it’s unnaturally here, that we’re forcing something that naturally shouldn’t be. But why? That thing exists naturally in the real world, and it doesn’t make the real world any less. Maybe you’re less aware of it, but is making you aware of how others live their life “pushing” something on you?

How you live your life is represented constantly, everywhere. Why isn’t over-representing your experience at the expense of everyone else’s “pushing” it? Why is media only being the experience of those in power the “proper way”?

Having more depth and variety doesn’t lessen stories. It makes them deeper, more rich, more nuanced. In short, it makes them better stories. In my former life, I was a professional writer. I took a lot of writing classes. One of the truism of writing is “speaking truth leads to better stories”.

There’s another famous quote: “When you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression.” You’re used to being over-represented, so being a little less over-represented feels like something has been taken from you. But really it hasn’t. Having a better sense of the rest of the world comes with a lot of benefits.

I’ll use food as an example. Let’s say all you were ever exposed to was the food of your heritage. Yeah, that food is really good, but sometimes isn’t it nice to eat foods of other nationalities? Isn’t your life better that you have a choice? Isn’t your exposure and access to the food of other nationalities a positive in your life?

Exposure to variety is a positive. It allows you to learn about things you didn’t know, experience things things you’ve never experienced, and get a better sense of understanding of your friends and neighbors.

Our actions are not to harm anyone, and if you think that’s what we’re doing, please take a minute to actually absorb what I’m saying. You’ve spent your whole life metaphorically eating one type of food, and we’re just trying to show you how much you’ve missed out on.

And while this might not impact you directly, we’re making a whole bunch of people felt seen. We’re bringing joy. Think of it this way. We make a lot of cards. Not every card is for you. But if it makes someone else happy, if they get to include it in a deck, and it makes Magic better for them, how is it harming you that we include it? You have so many cards that you can play.

To this poster or people that share their viewpoint, the narrative that a gain for someone else is an attack on you is just not true. As I just pointed out above, you play a game all about personal choice, about players getting to choose how they play and enjoy the game. Why should life be any different than Magic?

Thanks for reading.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Hey Pookie!! Hru?

I was wondering if you could do a father like Crowley with a reader who grew up pretending to be a boy but is biologically female and prefers being more feminine, Crowley takes her in after Book one and like spoils her and calls her his daughter and his little dove!

Maybe also with the reader having a big crush on Riddle and Crowley doesn’t know wether to be accepting of it or protective

Tysm Pooks!🩷🎀

adopted by crowdad!reader crushing on riddle ✧･ﾟ

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Hey Muffin! How are you?? This was such a cute idea I tried to write it even though I had so much wild homework xD Hope you like it!! I like writing Crowley and Riddle c:

I am also sorry this took so long my life took a drastic turn 😂 Fun Fact: Riddle was a character I was drawn to when the game was first coming out even though Azul was my OG bias.

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Summary: [Name] is the adoptive daughter of Dire Crowley after the incidents of Riddle Roseheart's overblot. But why does looking at Riddle make her face flush? Maybe Crowdad can help!

TW/CW: Tagged Crowley/Reader but it's PLATONIC/FAMILIAL

Notes: the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, she/her pronouns for the reader, implied AFAB/female reader, pre-relationship/Riddle, a couple of throw-away comments that imply Crewel/Crowley

Guest Stars: Divus Crewel, Deuce Spade (mentioned), Ace Trappola (mentioned), Trey Clover (mentioned)

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Dire Crowley (Familial)

Crowley didn't expect to feel so protective over [Name] but some kind of fatherly instincts were awakened during the overblot.

He insists that he is the kindest father to his new daughter.

Crowley becomes a girl-dad.

He may or may not have tried to make her take his last name.

A new side of his personality does not like the idea of any of his male students making moves on his daughter.

He gaslights other students that he has raised [Name] since childhood and [Name] goes along with it, because no one can stop the headmaster once he wants to do something.

Crowley thinks Riddle is an exceptional student.

He is still protective of her around Riddle, though.

"She is much too young to be snogging boys at school."

That line had Housewarden Rosehearts sputtering.

It is much better if his daughter is in love with Riddle than with one of his more troublesome and scary housewardens.

He insists that his daughter is more feminine when he sees that she likes to present that way more than being masculine.

Crowley goes out of his way to say DAUGHTER and SHE with a flourish (to the point that he annoys other students with it).

Crowley is annoying but he means well. Surely.

Crewel becomes her weird uncle somewhere in this process because he thinks Crowley is a little too lax.

Crewel also gives better romantic advice than Crowley does x10

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Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle is intimidated that [Name] is Crowley's daughter now.

Crowley is a lot to deal with and Riddle shies away from her.

However, [Name] is always sweet to him, and goes out of her way to talk to him, and because of this, he begins to talk to her more.

He thinks she is a nice person but is oblivious to his own feelings.

He doesn't know what to do and up asking Trey for help.

Trey has to be a Mom and a Dad to Riddle with his first real love.

[Name] might end up with Mom-Dad Trey Clover as well xD

Ace and Deuce pray for her, they are worried she will end up collared and try to look out for her while also being (terrible) wingmen in the whole situation. Trey-senpai has a migraine.

"[Name]," Crewel said, studying her expression as she sat in the empty classroom and worked on her homework, "Are you worried about something?"

"No..." she said, fidgeting with the pencil she was using to write her homework answers, "I just... Do you think my dad will be upset if I try to ask out a housewarden?"

Crewel thought about this for a moment before his expression relaxed into something softer than his usual smirk. He didn't see a reason to be so hard on the only female student in the school, especially not after hearing a few facts about her previous life from her self-ascribed father, that strange bird of a headmaster.

"I don't think he would be cross with you," Crewel told her gently, "Though depending on who it is both of us may worry."

She seemed surprised. They would worry about her? It felt like a foreign concept for her in a way. She was still getting used to the staff taking care of her like this, especially Crewel and Crowley.

"Ah?" [Name] managed to say, looked at him.

Who in the world did Crewel think... Who would worry them if she were to confess she had a crush? Surely not Riddle, right? He was a good student and a housewarden at that... Overblot aside.

"I'm not sure I trust Kingscholar. Though he doesn't seem your type."

"I mean... No, it's not Kingscholar-senpai..."

Crewel seemed relieved to hear those words from her.

"Then? Who—"

Crewel was cut off by a flurry of black feathers as her father appeared in between the two of them.

"[NAME]!" Crowley cheered as he rushed toward her to embrace her, even if it was complicated by the desk at which she sat.

"Hey... Dad!" [Name] managed, still growing used to calling him that.

Crowley smiled at her.

"How are you, my darling daughter?" he greeted her, speaking louder than may have been appropriate for the interaction.

Could he help it? He was so excited! And he wanted to know what Crewel and his daughter were speaking about. Their daughter? No. He couldn't think about that right now.

Something for later, maybe?

He returned his focus to his daughter.

"[Name]?" he asked again, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Huh? Oh! Right..." she said composing herself, "I'm doing alright. I was just talking to Professor Crewel about something I was worri—"

She did not get to finish her sentence before Crowley gasped oh-so dramatically. Worried? His daughter was worried? Why? Had he not done enough as a father? Was something wrong? Was she okay?

Too wrapped up in his emotions, neither Crowley nor his daughter (who was giving a more worried look at her father's outburst) noticed the deep sigh that escaped the black-and-white-haired professor's lips as he watched the two. They sure did get into... whatever word was best to describe such antics.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" Crowley asked her, studying her as if trying o see whether or not she was injured, "Did something happen?"

[Name] wasn't planning to tell him like this.

"No... Nothing is wrong. I just... I wanted to ask... I mean..."

She wasn't sure how to word it. This was awkward. She hadn't even been able to tell her crush how she felt yet. And now she had to confide in her overly dramatic father who might try to help her? Deuce and Ace were bad enough wingmen as it was. But, her DAD?

That was too crazy. Nope, nope, not happening.

Crowley waited for her to word her sentence this time.

"I like someone."

There, she said it! She did it! Sort of? [Name] wasn't sure if this answer was a "good enough" answer or was opening room for another secondary discussion about her love life. She had planned to maybe tell Crewel today, not their dad... not yet.

She didn't want him to worry.

"One of the students here?" Crowley asked her.

"Uhm... Yes..." she told him, wanting to be honest.

"A boy?"

He sounded worried now. He was kind of overprotective since that incident at Heartslabyul... Was this really going to be okay?

"I. Yes?" she told him, unsure if there were any female students besides herself at NRC.

She supposed there was always room for someone to be transgender that she didn't know about but to her own limited knowledge, everyone was a guy. And Riddle too was a boy.

"Hmm... Interesting. Very interesting, we had best—"

Someone cut Crowley off this time. A taste of his own medicine for that bird is what Crewel thought of the unforeseen event.

"Sorry to interrupt, I did knock" came a voice that she recognized.

Wait... [Name] knew that voice too well.

RIDDLE???

Her eyes widened at the sight of the red-haired boy in his dorm attire.

"Ah, am I intruding?" Riddle asked her.

She shook her head, face burning from embarrassment. He could have heard her. He could have heard how she felt about him. It had only been a short while since the incident and it wasn't time to be confessing her love. She still needed to get Deuce and Ace to calm down their (good-intentioned) attempts to "help" and ask Trey for his opinion. Trey was, after all, one of the people best at pacifying Riddle in his moods, and they had known each other for a while, right?

She sighed. Things weren't supposed to result in this!

"Rosehearts-kun!" Crowley greeted, switching gears instantly.

"Headmage."

Crowley smiled slightly though it was hard to tell if it was genuine.

"What did you need?" he asked the boy.

"I came to give you the notes from the last meeting."

Riddle had taken notes for the housewardens at their last meeting.

"Ah, thank you!" Crowley replied, taking the hard copy of the notes from Riddle as he handed them over.

Riddle nodded.

"That is all I needed," the Heartlsabyul Housewarden said a moment later, "My apologies for the interruption."

He turned to leave the room, saying a farewell as he did so.

"Good day, Headmage, [Name]-san."

"Goodbye, Rosehearts-kun!"

"Uhm! Bye, Riddle-senpai!"

The alchemy professor, the headmaster, and their the headmaster's daughter existed in a slightly awkward silence for a minute or two before it was Crewel who broke it with an observation.

"He's the one you like, isn't he?" he said.

[Name]'s reddened face grew two shades deeper. She was sputtering, unable to word herself properly. What did she say? How did he know? Was she obvious? Did Riddle know??!

"You like Rosehearts-kun?" Crowley asked, looking at his daughter.

She nodded.

"Despite recent events," Crowley said, "He is a fine choice from my current group of housewardens. Much better than some of the other boys in terms of safety. He will surely be as kind to my lovely daughter as I am."

Crowley smiled at her and she sighed.

At least he (and Crewel) seemed open to the idea. Now she just had to tell Riddle... But how would she do that? And wouldn't Deuce and Ace just complicate things? This would be an ordeal, wouldn't it?

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Imagine the rest yourself~

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Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[bananayuyu]

just friends (2) - back to the beginning

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 12.6k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral, cum eating

a/n: i have become completely obsessed with these two. I've mapped out 10 parts for this series (help me), please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the rest <33 new parts won't be coming out on any certain schedule as I have many other writing projects I'm working on, but I will for sure finish his series within the year. I'm too obsessed not to. also the argument at the end of this part is pretty nasty so please proceed with caution <3

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

One Year Ago

"Titi, it's 4:15, get your ass up!" you called from her desk, squinting at your eyes in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your dark, heavy face of makeup.

"I know, sorry," she grumbled from her bed, slowly pushing off her comforter. "Winter makes me so sleepy," she yawned, stretching as long as she couch reach, her feet falling off the side of her mattress.

"You just love being late, I think," you joked, slapping closed the lid of your highlighter, putting the brush you used back into the drawer it came from.

"You'd think I do, with how often I am," she laughed, another yawn escaping her lips, her palms rubbing circles over her eyes.

"I'm leaving without you if you're running late, just so you know," you responded, stepping up off her desk chair and over to your trusty bag, double checking you had your costume for tonight, your phone, your keys, wallet, and makeup bag.

"I'm coming, just give me a second," she muttered, pushing herself up dramatically, a deep sigh wracking through her. "I didn't get to sleep till like ten in the morning."

"What were y'all doing?" you asked, chuckling, zipping closed your bag with a satisfying sound, everything packed just right for the day ahead.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed, waggling her eyebrows at you.

"You're a couple of fucking rabbits, you two," you shot back, staring at the disheveled state of your best friend. She tipped her head back, laughing hard, that bright full smile showing across her beautiful face. She'd been smiling a lot like that lately, ever since her and her girlfriend had made things official, ever since they'd decided to move in together.

"I'm sorry, I won't talk about it so much if it's annoying," she said, finally standing herself up and shlepping off her pajamas.

"Don't stop, it's very adorable," you responded. "Why would it be annoying?"

"Just cause, you know, your last situation was such a disappointment. I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in," she said, grabbing for a pair of black leggings and pink sweater in the pile of clothes on the floor.

"My last, what, three situations, actually?" you said, trying to remember each of the ridiculous members of the cast of dates you'd been on last year.

"Dating sucks," she said, pulling her leggings on, stumbling a bit.

"Not for you, it doesn't," you responded, crossing your arms.

"Well, not now, but it did for my whole life up until this point," she said.

"Ah, turned twenty-two and now you have it figured out?" you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Hey, don't get snippy with me missy," she pouted, pulling the sweater over her head.

"Sorry, you know I just like arguing for no reason," you sighed, chuckling a bit.

"I need to find you someone who likes it just as much as you do," she joked back, grabbing her phone off it's charger.

"But who's not actually an asshole?" you said.

"Yeah, exactly," she laughed, shooting off a quick text. "Shit, 4:20," she said, stuffing her phone into her own huge bag, not bothering to check it's contents like you just did.

"Okay, we're going now," you said, walking out into her living room, heading straight for the front door.

"Wait, just let me make a cup of coffee!" she called to you, stumbling behind.

"They have coffee where we work, you know," you remarked, looking back at her over your shoulder.

"Oh my god, you love saying shit like that," she rolled her eyes, following close behind you.

"I'm not wrong," you said as you opened the front door, stepping out into the hall.

"I just wanted my pretty mug," she sighed, stepping out after you.

"Then go grab it," you said, holding the door open.

"I can do that? Make coffee into a mug I've brought in?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Okay, if I get in trouble I'm blaming you," she said, running back in to grab her favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink.

"Fine, fine," you shook your head, closing the door once she'd come out again.

As soon as you exited the building you realized you'd worn too much; it might be January still, but it was hardly cold at all, this dense desert city holding all the heat the rest of the world must be craving.

"Can we slow down?" Tina asked from beside you, your shoulders bumping as you stepped around a huge group standing on the sidewalk outside of an Italian restaurant, chatter filling the air.

"I don't wanna be late," you answered, keeping your pace as it was.

"Dude, you're so wound up," she said, snaking her hand through your upper arm, genuinely worried you'll start sprinting off if she didn't ground you somehow.

"Sorry, I know," you said, linking your arm around her's. "I'm good, I swear. Just stressed about my manuscript submission," you said, flashing her a wary smile.

"They said they'd get back to you by next week, right?" she asked, gently pulling on you to help you avoid a dark spot of something sticky on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, next week," you sighed, letting out a disgruntled noise.

"Okay, so, you just gotta wait. You did all that work last year finishing that play, you should let yourself have some fun for a few weeks. We should all go out after work today, we haven't done that in forever," she said, the two of you snaking around a line of people standing outside the old movie theater that sat just a block from your place of work.

"Doesn't Maya work Sunday mornings?" you asked, pulling up at the corner to wait for the light to change.

"Usually, but not this week. She's on a later shift today so they gave her tomorrow off," she answered you, eyes darting around at the cacophony of sounds streaming through the streets from every direction.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, and Tina started laughing, squeezing onto your arm. "Shit sorry, did that sound sarcastic?"

"It's so funny when your tone goes all flat like that," she said beside you, a genuine smile on her face. "Seriously though, there probably won't be a Saturday night where she can come out with us for a very long time. We should do it. Maybe we can even convince Sasha and Bibi to come too."

"I'll think about it," you said as the light changed, the two of you stepping down onto the asphalt in front of you. A car honked loudly from your left, wanting to turn down the street you were walking across, and you both shot the driver identical looks of confusion over your shoulders. Only another minute and you were pushing through the side door of the bar, stepping right into the back of the kitchen and waving hi to the cooks on the line. The hallway to the dressing room was already uncomfortably hot; your light layers were far too much now, so you stripped them off quickly, shoving everything into your locker and checking your phone. You weren't late, after all. Thankfully, because you were on early tonight, second in the program, and you only had time to change into your costume and warm up a bit before Ilya was calling your name and pushing you down to the left wing of the stage.

It was a fairly normal night, by all accounts. You'd been working at the bar for nearly two years by then, one of the longer standing performers. There was high turnover in the staff, as was typical in a bar, but especially amongst the performers, who'd often find sudden success in movies or TV, or decide that pursuing this was just not for them anymore. Ages varied wildly; your boss Julie was not one to obsess over youth, or any other conventional markers of beauty. All she cared about was talent; she wanted to create the most interesting, jaw dropping, entertaining show this whole city had to offer, and there was no doubt she had succeeded. Every kind of person could be found working here; sometimes servers would take on a performing shift or two, and sometimes the opposite. It wasn't rare for you to be asked to take drinks to a certain table, your costume still on, sometimes staying in character as you placed them down in front of wonder-filled eyes. You all were expected to help each other out; once or twice you'd even been requested in the kitchen or behind the bar, when there'd been one too many sudden call outs.

It was a classy establishment. Doors opened at 4:30, the show promptly starting at 5pm; it ended at midnight sharp, the bar closing only half an hour later. It was the earliest place to close on the block, only open four days a week, Wednesday night through Saturday night. It was a place people went to pregame, to start their evening with a bang, or a place people went to see a great show before heading back home at a reasonable hour. There was a drinks limit; you all could deny a customer another if they were acting unruly, your security team inconspicuous under the dark shadowy light inside, but always watching. The food served was regular bar fare: tacos, wings, pizza, burgers, but it was high quality, so good that some people came frequently just for their favorite menu item. The place was known for its drinks, too, having hoards of non alcohol options that put every other bar's mocktail lists to shame. It was known for its organized and sparkly atmosphere, known as a reliable place to have a good ass night. The patronage was a mixed bag, but the place wasn't cheap; it tended to skew a bit older, a bit more mature. You didn't hate that; it meant the behavior was generally predictable, even if you didn't exactly fit in amongst the crowd cheering you on.

Halfway through the night you plopped down on your stool in the dressing room, scrubbing free the bits of eyeliner that had smudged below your eye during your first two solo performances of the night.

"Hey girl, sorry to bug, do you have any lashes I could borrow?" Sasha came running in, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"I should, let me see what I have," you said, setting your makeup wipe on your bare thigh and zipping open your bag.

"I'm so sorry to ask, but I literally don't have any with me," she sighed, coming to sit beside you. "My right one fell off on stage and I couldn't find it for the life of me. I was trying to look for it without making it obvious," she said, a nervy chuckle escaping her.

"No worries, here, look through there. Take whatever you need," you said, handing her the small box you kept your old and new lashes in.

"Oh darling, you're a lifesaver," she sighed, snapping it open and rifling through, finding the size she needed. She still had some of that newbie air about her, not six weeks into working with you. But already she had established herself as irreplaceable; by then she emceed almost every night she worked, and thank god for that, as none of the rest of you had any talent or desire for it. Julie tended to do it, if no one else was available, but having a beautiful drag queen host the evening, one who also performed in the show, was a much better choice in every way.

"A group of businessmen just walked in and took table four, I'm hoping one of them is interesting in all this," she said, leaning forward to place the replacement lash on her right eyelid.

"I'm sure one will be, Sash, you're fucking gorgeous," you said, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from your face and giggling.

"Oh sweetheart, you flatter me," she drawled, looking over her face in the mirror. "Do you think those straight-" she lifted her hands, making air quotes, "men can tell I'm not a woman in all the typical ways?"

"Girl, I wasn't even sure the first time I saw you. Your makeup skills are unmatched," you said, chuckling at her.

"Oh stop it," she joked, shaking her head at you. "I hope my hosting skills are half as good," she sighed, finally placing the lash on her eye just right and batting her hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to get the glue to dry quickly.

"Sasha, are you kidding? You put the rest of us to shame. You should have seen me the one night Julie made my try it out," you laughed, tossing your used makeup wipe in the waste basket beside you.

"I'm sure it was just fine, you little genius," she responded, blinking her eye open and closed a few times. "Sorry to cut this short, but I should probably get out there again."

"Go get 'em, girl," you responded, shooting a playful wink her way.

"Thank you again, darling," she said as she walked past, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You squeezed it briefly; "of course," you said. Then her heels were clacking past you, and soon the room filled with noise as nearly every performer on your cast came in to start their makeup, all of you preparing for the big group number of the evening.

You'd discovered the song, randomly, a few months back. The title, Kalyna, and the album art had intrigued you; after your first listen you were imaging the choreography immediately, turning on your phone to record the sudden ideas flooding your brain. You'd never choreographed a number for the bar, but you knew Julie would be open to it if you pitched it correctly. Three weeks later and you were teaching your coworkers the choreography, chaotic short lessons between everyone's normal performances, all of them picking it up lightning quick. It was an instant hit with your audiences, the night it debuted, and had been kept in the rotation longer than most of the other numbers ever were.

That night the air was buzzing in the dressing room; everyone looked sharp and stunning in their body suits, hair slicked back and pulled tight into buns. The makeup was angular; this number was meant to evoke a bit of tension, maybe even some fear in the audience. But it also showed the strength of the team, the strength of community, and the physical strength of each of you. It was your absolute favorite number that winter; you looked forward to it every night you worked, proud to know you'd created something that stuck so fondly in the minds of the people who watched.

As you hit the stage, you saw immediately what Sasha had just mentioned. Table four, which sat just off the right side of the stage, was cramped full of men in suits, every single one sharp and fitted and so obviously expensive. There was every type of man you could imagine at the table; you spotted immediately the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Sasha's dream come to life. And when she led the first eight counts towards the front of the stage, you saw his eyes take in everything, her long legs, her face, her deep rich eyes he seemed lost in. You nearly broke character; so rare was is that people in here flirted with the performers, oddly enough, and normally you were very thankful for that. It was all a part of the classy environment your boss had curated, and it meant you felt safe. But you couldn't deny how giddy it made you to see this playing out in front of you, mere feet from where you danced.

You danced the rest of the number focused, determined not to drop your professionalism for too long, the crowd erupting in cheer as you all finished. Clasping hands down the line, you took one giant bow, spinning and running off stage as the number ended.

"Lina needs help y'all!" Ilya called as you ran through the wings, and immediately you headed down the short hallway to the back of the bar, bursting through to find her. Stacked along the bar were multiple trays of drinks; a line was forming, and your head bartender looked the tiniest bit stressed. Sweat dripped form her brow, and she wiped it away quickly with her hand, punching something into the computer before whipping around to take another order.

"Oh, good, please take those out!" she said when she saw you and Tina, pointing to the trays of drinks in front of you. "The beers are for table four, the cocktails table seven!"

In an instant you grabbed the tray in front of you, sliding past Tina as carefully and quickly as possible. This was sometimes your favorite moments of the evening, when in the adrenaline of post-performance you had to run out drinks to an excited table, who'd marvel over your performance and ask you every question they could think of. As you started weaving through the room, several iterations of 'great job!' and 'amazing, just amazing!' were thrown your way, making your smile so wide it nearly stretched off your face. You barely payed attention to the drinks in your hand, only to make sure they didn't spill, as you nodded in thanks to the compliments, smiling at the half-lit faces around you.

It wasn't until you stopped, stood close to the wall to let another server past, that you realized which tray you'd grabbed. Both table four and seven sat on the far side of the room opposite the bar, and in the chaos of the moment you'd just headed this way, not bothering to actually take note. Now, you did; eight beers sat on the tray balanced on your hand, all identical dark ales. You shot a look to your side at Tina's tray, littered with pink and blue and clear cocktails, fun decorations sticking out the top of them all. Your's was meant for table four, for those businessmen Sasha had spotted, the one's you'd just performed mere feet from.

It shouldn't have worried you, but you couldn't help remembering it now. The only time you'd felt uncomfortable at work had been when serving a giant table full of just men, when one of them had said things severely over the line with you, just to make his friends laugh. It'd only ever happened that once, but the feeling was humiliating enough to have stuck with you, your mind whirring a bit as you made you way towards the crowded table. You decided you'd set the tray down by the man eyeing Sasha; maybe you could subtly hint at her interest, though you had no idea what you'd say. But as soon as you entered their proximity and reached between two of them to set down the tray, a man across the table spoke to you.

"I love that song!" he said, and you looked up to find a sweet, bright smile and deep dimples staring back at you.

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, giving him a genuine smile back, your mind immediately put at ease. You started placing the beers around, one in front of each man, careful to avoid the plates of food already littering the table.

"Do you know the significance of the Kalyna plant in Ukraine?" the same man asked, and your head snapped to him, eyes slightly wide.

"Yeah, that's why I chose to make that number," you said before you could think, so shocked that someone here knew anything about the song you'd spent long hours researching months ago.

"You choreographed that?" he asked, his eyes going wide a bit too.

"Oh, yeah," you said, slightly embarrassed that you'd just openly admitted that. It wasn't something you tended to do, when making light chatter with customers. You grabbed the last beer, which was for him, and made your way around the table to set it down in front of him. "It's just such a great song, easy to choreograph to," you added, trying to make yourself sound less conceited, less interested in talking about yourself.

"It is great, haven't heard it in years," he responded, taking the beer from your hand as you moved to set it down.

"You've heard it before?" you asked, genuine shock in your tone. The band was not one very popular here; not a single person you knew had heard of them, and no one in the months you'd been performing it had mentioned knowing anything about the song.

"Yeah, my freshman roommate in college was from Ukraine and he played a lot of their music. He's a drag queen, I would go to his shows a lot. He actually did a routine to that song, too, for a while," he responded, turning in his seat a bit to better face you. By this point the rest of the table had fallen into another conversation; it seemed none of the rest of them had heard of the song before, or cared to learn much about it. Kind of made them seem like shitty friends, to you. But you were thankful for it, because all of the sudden it felt like you and this gorgeous man were all alone, your back against the west wall of the seating area, Sasha's voice booming through the speakers around you.

"Next time he's visiting I'll be sure to take him here, he'd love it," he added, taking a swig of his beer.

"Well we might not be performing that number anymore, depending on when he's coming. Our numbers are put on a rotation, and this one's overstayed it's welcome already. Though it's still quite popular, we might be able to perform it a while longer," you said, words coming easily, the normal walls you kept high when talking to customers nowhere to be found.

"That's too bad, I hope you get to keep it for a while. It's fucking great, you're a real genius," he said, looking up at you again with those perfect dimples.

"Thanks," you said, blushing, the smirk he was sending your way bringing sudden heat to your face. You'd had time now to take him in; his hair was black, short at the sides and longer on top, his suit black to match it. His skin was honey, smooth as can be, and his face was pure perfection, pouty lips and a perfect nose, a strong jaw, strong eyebrows. He was very masculine, but very pretty too, so stunning you couldn't believe your eyes. And his wire framed glasses held his look together perfectly; he looked sharp, smart, and confident. He looked the way you were pretty sure every man wished he looked in a suit.

"I don't usually say stuff like this, but, when are you free tonight? We're all headed to a huge party up in the East Heights after this, if you'd like to come. There's gonna be an open bar, a pool, it's supposed to be pretty crazy," he said, taking another quick sip of his beer, his face pure and calm as he said it.

'I don't usually say stuff like this' my ass, you thought. The words had flown off his tongue too easily for that to be believable. But it was working on you, his confidence. You'd experienced too many instances of vague flirting, of indirectness, of shaky voices and shakier hands. You'd dreamt of a moment like this, when someone saw you and liked what they saw, liked it enough to ask you out then and there with no hesitation.

"Uh, I get off at 12:30, when the bar closes," you answered him, words falling out of your mouth without intention. "I- uh- I'll need to think about it though. I wouldn't be comfortable coming by myself, would I be able to bring some friends?"

"Yeah, bring whoever you'd like. It's a big event, a few extra bodies should be no big deal," he responded, smirk turning to a full on smile. His teeth were perfect, god he was perfect, and you got lost in his face for a few seconds, resting your hip against the wall behind you, your lower lip grasped between your teeth.

"I'm San, by the way," he said, reaching out his free hand in your direction.

"Oh, yeah, I'm y/n," you replied, placing your hand in his. His handshake was strong, hand warm around yours, your fingers nearly disappearing in his palm.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding onto your hand for a second longer than needed, gently releasing it and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Nice to meet you too," you said awkwardly, eyes darting around the room. "I should probably get back to work, it was nice chatting with you," you said, finally walking around the table to grab the tray and bring it back to the bar.

"We'll be here till closing, so just let me know then if you'd like to come," he said, nodding in your direction as you started to turn.

"Okay, thanks," you said, smiling over your shoulder, before walking off hurriedly between tables, suddenly worried sick that you'd be in trouble for talking to him for too long.

"Titi, you still wanna go out tonight?" you asked as you rushed back into the locker room, two slices of sweet bread you stole from the kitchen in your hands.

"Yeah, you actually wanna?" she said excitedly, reaching forward to grab one of them from you.

"I just got invited to a party in the Easy Heights," you said, a bewildered look gracing your features.

"Hello? What?" she responded, her mouth open in a comical O.

"I don't even know, but yeah, apparently some big party is happening at a house up there? He said it will have an open bar and pool?" you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the words coming out of you.

"Who said this?" she asked, mouth full as she chowed down.

"He said his name is San, he's in that group at table four," you responded.

"Oh my god, Sasha was just telling me she was making eyes at one of those men," Tina laughed, a hand coming to your shoulder.

"Yeah, I saw that while we were performing Kalyna," you said, giggling too.

"You sure you wanna go to an East Heights party? There's definitely gonna be like coke and shit, probably worse. It might be crazy," she said, head tilting to the side.

"If it's awful we can just leave, but I kinda feel like going. I doubt we'll ever be invited to one of those again," you laughed, giving her an assured smile. "I kind of want to see what tomfoolery those rich assholes get up to."

"So this isn't about hanging out with that man?" she asked.

"He seems cool, but I think he might be gay," you said to her, crossing your arms.

"Um, why?"

"He said his roommate in college was a drag queen, and that he went to his shows a lot. And he talked to me way too confidently to be into me. If he's not gay, then he's definitely not interested," you said, shrugging.

"Babe, he invited you to a party with him, barely knowing you. He definitely finds you attractive," she said, giving you that look she does when she thinks you're being just a bit dumb.

"Okay, but, well-" you cut yourself off, holding your hands out in a gesture of pity. You were dumb when it came to this relationship stuff, downright stupid. You knew that, as frustrating as it was. You wanted to be confident in your suspicion he was into you, but you'd been wrong enough times when you were younger about this sort of thing to assume it now. You'd been made fun of countlessly in high school, person after person laughing at the mere thought that they'd be into you. You were always baffled; you'd been told by some other person that this person had a crush on you, and were only asking them about it because of that information. They were pranks, and it took you embarrassingly long to figure that out. You understood that now, you recognized it had just been childish bullying; but still, even years later, you doubted any instance of even a suggestion that someone found you attractive.

You were different back then; you'd changed so much in the few years you'd lived away from home. But still, you doubted yourself. Maybe you had a complex about being undesirable, but who didn't? And frankly, when you looked around the world, it seemed like more of the "ugly" people had partners than not. It must be more about personality, you reasoned, which made your undesirability all the more painful. A silly, sick side of you began to feel attached to being single, began to feel better than other people for it, even your ride or die perfect friend standing in front of you. You didn't need romantic love like everyone else did, you decided; you had your art to give you passion, your friends to give you companionship. And you could physically satisfy yourself just fine. It was all projection; it was how you coped. How else could you deal with the pain of never being loved, lusted after, wanted the way all of your friends had since puberty?

But even as attached to your single identity as you were, you'd perused the apps last year, a tiny buried part of you wishing and hoping that there was someone out there for you, perfect in every way. It had been a bust, as expected. You felt like a fool for even trying. You had hoped that it would give you at least a little self-esteem, even if no relationship came of it. But it had only driven that painful truth of your undesirable personality deeper into your heart, cracking it further.

"I don't even want a relationship right now, Ti, I've said that for like the past three months," you said, pulling your hands back to your chest. You felt your heart thumping there, trying desperately to come alive despite the year of terror you'd put it through.

"It doesn't have to be a relationship, you could just hook up with him, you know, have a little fun," she answered you, grabbing your hands in hers. "Let's go, let's have some fun. Just relax, spend the evening enjoying ourselves." You hadn't seen her so excited all winter; her moods were severely affected by this season, and it always felt like a part of her left you for the cold months. It made a complex mix of sadness and excitement swirl through you, staring back at her perfect face. There was no way you'd be saying no to her now, despite anything.

"Okay, fine," you sighed, pulling her into a tight hug.

It took little convincing for Sasha and Bibi to join you, and soon the four of you plus Maya were standing on the sidewalk outside, stuck like a barnacle to the side of San's huge group. You were all waiting on two limos, according to him; when he's said this the five of you looked between yourselves with huge wide eyes, grabbing each other's arms and trying desperately not to laugh.

"You realize none of us have ever been to the East Heights, right?" you said to him, the soft arm of his suit jacket brushing up against the exposed skin of your own upper arm.

"That's fine, I've only been once. It's nothing that crazy, the houses are just big," he said, looking down at you, his shoulders intimidatingly broad now that he was standing beside you.

"I thought you said this party is gonna be crazy though," you replied, squinting your eyes playfully.

"Well, it's possible. I don't really know," he responded.

"So you just said that to say it earlier?" you questioned him, head cocked to the side.

"I was trying to make my offer sound enticing," he replied, looking you up and down, that smirk back on his face.

"So you lied to me?" you shot back.

"Hey, like I said, I don't know much about this thing, it could very well be crazy," he responded, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Wow, what have I gotten us into," you said, turning to the group, all of whom were suppressing their laughter at the interaction unfolding in front of them.

"The best night of your life," he answered, nudging your shoulder in a way that almost could have been accidental, making your eyes snap back to his again.

"I hope that wasn't a lie," you said, eyeing him sharply.

"I'll make sure of it," he shot back, one eyebrow raised slightly.

A titter sounded behind you, Tina unable to keep her composure at the ridiculous bickering unfurling between you. Your eyes were locked on each other, faces closer than either of you realized. It was so damn obvious to all of your friends, then, what was about to happen. The two of you couldn't hide it for a second, how affect you were. You were still locked in eye contact when the first limo pulled up, the rest of San's group filing in, waving him goodbye.

"You can go with your friends if you'd like," you said as he closed the door, stepping back.

"Oh they're not really my friends, just guys I know through work. This whole thing tonight is a networking opportunity, what fun," he joked sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Oh wow," you said, eyes glued to the limo as it pulled away. "People network at one in the morning?"

"Us tech bros do I guess, we just love it," he said, laughing sarcastically again. "I don't really like this stuff, but my manager is making me go. He gave me Monday off, so, I can't really complain."

"Wow, you have like a normal job," you said, laughing.

"And you don't?" he asked.

"I just mean, you work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I literally don't know a single other person who does. My mom is a doula, and my twin sister is a nurse, and my dad has early-onset Parkinson's so he's been on disability almost my whole life. And the rest of my friends work here, or work at other bars or restaurants around here. Even my best friend from high school works in a library at her university, but she works weekends and nights."

It all came stumbling out of you so fast, your hand shot up to your mouth.

"Sorry, that was crazy. Just forget all that shit about my dad..." you trailed off, eyes wide with worry as they met his.

"What shit about your dad?" he answered, and your expression immediately changed to one of relief, one of laughter. Just then the second limo pulled up to the curb, and the five of you excitedly gathered by the door, San opening it for you.

"Ladies," he said, bowing his head slightly and beckoning you all to step inside.

"None of us have ever been in a limo either," you told him, chuckling as your friends excitedly squealed while carefully entering the sleek black car.

"Uh, I have, speak for yourself miss thing," Bibi said as she crouched down, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

"Well damn, I guess one of us has," you said to San as you finally stepped inside, his body following quickly after you, rich laughter ringing in your ear.

San, it turned out, was most definitely not gay. Which of course, deep down, you'd already known. You'd known it from the moment he asked you to go to that party with him, from the moment he smirked and your body sizzled under his glare. But he was so different from anyone you'd dated before; too kind, too upfront, too knowledgeable about musicals and theater and all the things you loved so very much. It almost pained you to find out he'd been studying theater in college before switching to computer science. That was why he'd been paired with his freshman roommate; at the time, they'd had the same major. That roommate, Antin, became one of his best friends; the two bonded over coming from overseas, the pressure their parents put on them even thousands of miles away. It was so sweet, so charming, and in the two hours you spent at that raucous party, you learned what seemed like all there was to know about him.

He was too perfect; it was too easy to say yes when he'd asked if you wanted to see his apartment, too easy to bid your friends goodnight as your Uber pulled up in front of their places. You thought of nothing but the hunk beside you, about what he'd look like with that suit strewn on the ground. You tried not to jump his bones the second you were alone, but damn was it hard; as soon as you arrived he'd taken your purse, and placed it in the front closet of his apartment. His apartment was huge, his front closet bigger than the bathroom you shared with three other roommates; it was fancy too, well kept, stacks of books and DVDs in the living room, only two dirty dishes in the bottom of his kitchen sink.

It was all simply too good to be true, and in that moment nothing felt real. You were present, sure, but you felt like you'd been knocked into an alternative timeline, getting to live out the life of someone far better than you, who deserved all this.

"Aren't you hot in that suit?" you asked him, your loose minidress hanging free, your body unburdened with extra fabric. You always kept a few random clothes at work in case you needed to change suddenly, and even though it was the last day of January, this tiny dress had been a great option. Outside you'd thrown a large old flannel of your dad's over it, but at the party you'd tied it around your waist, the mass of bodies creating more heat than you could bear.

"Yeah, I was sweating all night," he laughed, slowly and methodically pulling off his suit jacket, finally revealing the shape of his shoulders to you. Under his white button-up they bulged; you did all you could to stop yourself from just staring, especially as he loosened his tie and finally pulled from his head, setting it down on the small table just inside his front door.

"You can put your shoes in there, if you'd like. Oh and your shirt, here, let me hang it up," he said, reaching for the flannel still tied around your waist. His touch was electric as soon as his hands made contact; even through the material of your dress you felt the spark, your body shivering. It only lasted a second, his nature too respectful to make anything more of a moment like that, especially after what you'd said at the party to him not twenty minutes ago. You wished you could have frozen time, wished every little detail of this night could be burned into your memory forever. It would be hard to believe then that you'd forget a lot of it in just a year, that somehow so much would happen that this one night would come to feel almost insignificant.

"Can I make you some hot cocoa, or tea, coffee?" he asked as he walked towards his kitchen, pouring you both glasses of water.

"Some herbal tea sounds nice, if you have any," you answered, and he opened his pantry to reveal a small collection. You picked out the lavender mix that sounded refreshing, placing the purple tea bag in a black mug he'd set down on the counter. As he set his tea kettle to boil, you hopped up on the counter beside him, bare feet swinging in air.

"So, you think that was the best night of my life?" you quipped, looking sideways at him as he set the kettle to temperature.

"Night's not over," he responded, eyebrows flicking up in amusement.

You were squirming under his gaze, your face now level with his. His shirt and pants fit him immaculately; you were so obviously ogling him, your thighs rubbing together as you did, your eyelids heavy with lust. He could feel it pouring off of you, but he kept replaying what you'd said, and kept trying to keep his composure, because he really wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who slept with the girl right away; he had known too many of those guys at college, seen too many of them back home too, when he visited his brother in the fall. He found the hookup culture he was surrounded by almost unnerving. He'd been raised with integrity, with respect; and being here in a new country had challenged his beliefs, for sure, but not when it came to sex or romance.

But you were determined. Your body had a mind of its own, and this whole night had felt surreal for hours now. Your own, already loose morals were thrown out the window, and you didn't give a fuck. You wanted him now, forget whatever the hell you'd said earlier; you didn't even remember it anymore, too filled with arousal to think straight.

You grabbed onto his arm closest to you, pulling him in.

"Hey, I thought you said-"

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face towards yours, leaning back slightly to arch into him. It was feverish as your lips met, mouths open, your legs already shaking as you wrapped them around his waist. It didn't take long for his hands to find your hips, your waist; he dug in, feeling the softness of you, softness he wanted to be wrapped in forever. He'd kept his composure the whole way here, not putting a hand on your thigh in the Uber, not a hand on your back as you walked through his front door. But now, it had left him; just five seconds of you in his grasp, and he knew he could never let go. His tongue swiped into your mouth, sucking hard on your lower lip, and without thinking he was reaching under your dress, feeling over the bare expanse of skin.

You hadn't worn a bra or panties tonight. He could tell about the bra, from the way your dress caught on your chest, but the panties were a surprise, making his head fuzzy as he reached down to your ass and found it bare for him. Your hands now were desperately grabbing at his over-shirt, trying in vain to undo each pesky button as you kept kissing him, your hands stumbling and failing over and over. Finally, he reached up and just ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and falling onto the floor in a soft rattle. He flung it off his arms, his tight under shirt leaving nothing anymore to your imagination. His abs rippled underneath it; you'd never seen abs like that in person before, weren't sure that they even existed. Especially not on a man who worked in tech, whose face was prettier than a porcelain doll's.

He came back to you, breathing hard; you grabbed at his abdomen, his shoulders, his chest, desperate to feel all of the perfection in front of you. You could smell the sweat on him now, musky and rich notes hitting your nose and making your body heat even more. He moved his mouth to your neck, your ear, making you whine and squirm with pleasure, sharp sparklers of energy running down the entirety of your body. You were pulling at him, desperately, forgetting any sense of where you were, or what you'd planned for tonight. As he licked a stripe up your collar bone you squealed loudly, the feeling ticklish and pleasurable all the same, and you jerked away from him momentarily, falling into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly there was a crash; the mug next to you was sent flying to the floor by your hip, and now it's pieces spread out across the grey tile, littering it in shards.

"Fuck, sorry," you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your open mouth. You were expecting maybe a light chuckle, maybe a shocked noise, for San to want to clean this up right away before you two got to whatever you were doing; instead he laughed deeply, his bright, wide smile back on his face, dimples staring you in the face for the probably thousandth time that night. He looked down to each side of his feet, sighing ever so slightly, before moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes thoughtful.

"Fuck it," he laughed with a shake of his head, grabbing you again, his hand on the back of your neck, soft lips wrapped around your own. You giggled into his mouth, so overcome by the chaotic set of events; but it only took a moment of his lips on yours again for you to melt, your legs around him, your breathing hot and heavy as he grabbed at your dress, pulling it up at the front to reveal your bare crotch to the room, running two of his fingers down your slit to see how wet you were.

"Fuck, San," you gasped, feeling how easily his slippery fingers moved, his movement unexpected.

"You want this, right?" he asked you, voice husky and deep. His eyes were boring into yours, and his look was dark and intense. It made you shiver to look back at him, and a part of you wanted to look away, to not feel the complex string of emotions tumbling through you. It almost felt like dread; dread laced with beauty, laced with desire and sweetness and everything addictive, and you just couldn't bring the rest of yourself to look away.

"Yes, please," you responded, pushing your hips down onto his hand, grinding onto his fingers. "Please fuck me, San."

You'd never said anything like this in your life; you'd only imagined it, or read it. As cheesy as it could feel on the page, in that moment it felt consumingly empowering, downright sexy. You pulled at his belt in front of you, your mouths meeting again, his teeth scraping over your upper lip as he nearly devoured you. Once again, you struggled with undoing his clothing; he moved his hands away from you to unclasp it himself, pulling it hard and tossing it to the ground when he had. Your hands were around his chin, holding his face to you as you messily kept kissing, his hands now working on the button and zipper of his jeans. In a matter of moments he'd pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and held it in his hand, hungrily eyeing your flushed cunt in front of him.

"Let me get a condom," he huffed, clearly having to work at pulling his eyes away from you.

"No, I have an implant," you said, pointing to your left arm. You saw his eyes twitch to side for a moment, like his brain was struggling to process what you'd just said. "It's fine, I can't get pregnant," you added, in case he didn't know what the hell you were trying to say. It took another few moments for him to accept it; but once he did he moved his cock closer to your aching entrance, and rubbed it along your slit where his fingers had been just seconds ago.

"Fuck," you sighed, head hitting his shoulder as he leaned into you, as he spread your wetness over his tip. Your closed eyes cloaked you in almost darkness, only the soft light in the kitchen illuminating the room, and all you could feel was your throbbing cunt and San's movements, already whimpering and moaning in his ear. He lined himself up carefully, pulling your hips to the very edge of the counter to give him room, and slowly sank halfway down.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, the stretch not at all what you expected. He was far bigger than any man you'd ever been with; it almost hurt, and you'd never experienced this before, so you had no idea if this was a hurt that would subside, or a hurt that would grow and fester. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as he slowly pulled out of you again, thrusting back in just slightly deeper, his movements slow and controlled.

"Ahhh, shit," you whined again, grip on his shoulders even tighter.

"I need you to relax for me," he said in your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending tremors of pleasure through you.

"I'm trying," you squeaked out, face stuck in his neck as you tried to breath slowly.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, stilling his movements completely, holding onto your lower back for support.

"No, please don't stop," you whispered, finally finding some control of your breath. "Just give me a second."

San obliged, kissing the top of your head as he ran a comforting hand down your back. You continued to breathe deep, continued to take in his scent, and in a few short moments you felt the walls of your cunt finally release a bit, allowing you to rock yourself against him without pain.

"Okay, I'm ready," you said, bracing yourself, and a moment later you felt him push himself in further, finally bottoming out. You both let out a guttural groan; it felt like you'd discovered new parts of yourselves in that moment, like your bodies were made for each other, made to pleasure each other just the way you needed.

"Fuck, y/n," San moaned your name, your walls tight around him as he pulled back again, thrusting short and soft at first. Hearing your name roll of his tongue made your chest swell; it was far to intense, all of these emotions you were having, for you to utter a thing. Soon he was thrusting faster, setting a steady pace as he held firm onto your hips, his mouth on your neck leaving bruising bites that you'd have to deal with tomorrow. You were breathing ragged, an eruption of feelings so perfect coming from your core that you couldn't quite believe it.

Then it happened; he picked you up by your hips, holding you dead in the air, still thrusting into you. If anything his thrusts were harder, deeper now; the position had given him space, and he used every bit of it, his thrusts becoming longer, harder, his cock nearly falling out of you when he pulled out. Your moans turned to screams; you were no longer aware at all of what sounds you were making, so overcome with the severe intensity of the feelings in your core.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you started babbling, breathing desperately, your hands again grasping at his shoulders.

"What?" he asked between grunts, a chuckle following.

"I didn't- fuck- think this was po-ossible," you stuttered, his thrusts not letting up, the feeling so intense it almost was zapping you back into the moment again, reversing the drifting that your mind had started to do. This felt real; felt too real, too intense. You swore you could feel every vein in his shaft, feel the exact shape of his head. Your orgasm was building, fast, and you'd never come just from penetration.

"Now you know, baby," he chuckled again, not letting up. Soon you were clenching hard, the rippling feelings of your climax building to their peak, your legs around his hips, squeezing him.

"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, biting down on the top of his shoulder, shaking hard.

"Did you come?" he asked, still thrusting hard, wanting you to ride it out as much as you could.

"Yes," you almost sobbed, drool dripping down onto his bare skin. "Slow down," you whined, and he did, gradually slowing his movements until he'd stopped, placing a quick kiss on your neck and making you squeal again.

After that, the night was a blur. He took you again, on the couch, and you came so many times you couldn't keep track. He was flipping you around, holding up your legs; he seemed to know every perfect angle to make your cunt feel even better, and you gladly accepted every movement from him. When he finally came he dropped down between your legs, eating you out as his cum dropped out of you, his face a flushed mess when he looked up to take a breath. You came again; finally, you begged him to stop. Your body was spent, you couldn't take anymore. When you looked at your phone it was nearly six in the morning, and when you ventured a look over to his kitchen window you recognized the first signs of winter dawn, the sky not as dark as it had been.

He made you stay put, cleaning you up in a fluffy towel, picking you up to carry you to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress; then his own clothes came off entirely, and you ogled him all over again, as he scolded you and told you to get some much needed sleep. Wrapped around him your cunt seemed to stay permanently wet; you thought there was no way you'd fall asleep, but it was late, even for you. Soon you were both out cold, San's blackout curtains tricking your bodies. It wasn't until nearly three that afternoon that you woke.

"You stay, I'll go make us some food," San yawned, kissing your forehead, your face smushed in his chest.

"Are you sure?" you pouted, looking up at him. Even with his curtains open the sky outside was dark; what time it was now, you had no idea. After you awoke and showered, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Another slew of hours had flown by, and your pussy was aching, begging you to give her a break. You couldn't help how fucking good it felt, though. You wanted it to never end. You were sure you could be satisfied with your life if all you ever did from now on was fuck him.

"Oh god, don't give me that look," he groaned, turning his head away. You laughed, tugging yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. "I thought you said you were hungry," he said, arms around you too.

"I am," you answered, snuggling into him.

"Well I can't make you food if you're laying on top of me," he responded, squeezing the tops of your thighs.

"I think you're definitely strong enough to carry me around," you said, giggling.

"Oh, is that what you want? You done with walking?" he joked, pinching your thigh.

"Ah, hey!" you squealed, jerking off of him, trying to reach for his ribs to tickle him in retaliation. But just then your stomach rumbled, so loud you both could hear.

"Come on, let me make food. What do you want?" he asked, sitting himself up.

"Do you have eggs?" you said, and he nodded. "Can you make just some toast and scrambled eggs?"

"Of course, anything else?" he responded, standing up off the bed. The naked form of him in front of you was so distracting, especially in the hazy light coming in from outside, the evening street lights shining in through San's huge window. You took a mental screenshot; no one else could ever look this good, you thought, in such low light. It accentuated every nook and cranny of his body; he was so perfectly built, every little part. It was hard not to stare at the curve of his ass as he threw on some sweats, or the muscles of his back as he stretched his arms.

"No, I just have that for breakfast every day. I like simple food," you said, yawning again and sitting yourself up.

"Me too," he smiled, looking back at you for a moment before exiting the room, clinks sounding from the kitchen as he started preparing.

It took you some time to finally get yourself up; your body was wracked with exhaustion, but you'd never felt better. You felt on a permanent high around him; you grabbed your crumpled dress from the floor and slipped it over yourself, finally walking out to the living room to check your phone, which was probably dead. As you came out you saw San on the floor cleaning, the remnants of that poor mug swept into a pile at the corner of his kitchen.

"Oh shit, let me help you with that," you said, making your way over, but San stopped you.

"No, don't walk over here, you'll cut your feet. I'll take care of it, it's no biggie." You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, but already this dynamic felt comfortable. If he really was fine with it, then you were fine letting him deal with the mess you'd made. You turned on your heel and walked over the couch, grabbing your phone off the coffee table, checking the time.

|6:14 pm|

You saw a slew of texts, but your battery was at ten percent, so you ran to your purse to grab your charging cable, plugging it in.

{Titi}

|3:43pm| how was your night bestie?? |5:58pm| please tell me you didn't get kidnapped |6:14pm| fuck sorry, I hadn't looked at my phone till now |6:14pm| I am alive and well

|6:15pm| oh thank god, we were worried |6:15pm| nothing to be worried about 😌 |6:16pm| so how'd it go?? |6:16pm| girl, we fucked for like three hours last night 😭 |6:16pm| HELLO |6:16pm| are you okay??? 😭 |6:17pm| Maya just said you're putting us lesbians to shame 💀 |6:17pm| 💀💀 |6:17pm| we fucked for like three hours this morning too |6:17pm| GIRL |6:17pm| RIP to your vagina |6:18pm| she's never been happier 😭

|6:18pm| this is so crazy |6:18pm| you home now? |6:18pm| I KNOW |6:18pm| no I'm still here, he's making some food for us

|6:18pm| wow |6:18pm| just wow, idk what else to say 😭 |6:19pm| girl same |6:19pm| you busy tomorrow? |6:19pm| no, why? |6:19pm| I'll bring over some dinner at seven, I have so much to tell you |6:19pm| I can't wait 💕

Present

It was nearly noon, when you woke. Slowly your consciousness came back to you; at first you only felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you, and you knew for sure you weren't in your bed, nor on your friend's couch like you'd planned. You were in the place you'd ended up so many times this month; maybe close to twenty of the nights of January you'd spent here. Thinking of it pulled at you. You knew this was a mistake, ending up here, knew something terrible would come of this. But you hadn't had the will this morning to stop it. You woke grumpy, worried, with the events of the morning spiraling through your head, especially Tina's flushed face of agony and the guttural sounds she made as she threw up.

You were worried, as much as she told you not to be. You'd never seen her like this in the five years you'd known her. As soon as your eyes melted open you were reaching for your phone on the night stand, finding it plugged in to San's charger, a glass of water there too.

You shot off a quick text to your group chat with Tina and Maya. How are y'all feeling? You didn't want to smother them with your worry, so you kept it as casual as you could, sipping at the water beside you and scrolling mindlessly through the other notifications littering your screen. There would be no convincing Tina to go get checked out; you had to accept it, had to welcome the fact that it'd be you and Maya keeping her well. She mistrusted doctors, on top of the unneeded expense, and you completely understood why; with the experiences she'd had, there would be no reason to give them a second chance. But she'd always had a stomach of steel; to see her so unwell was unnerving you, tremendously.

Finally you pushed yourself up; your stomach was rumbling, your head still aching with exhaustion, but the feeling was duller than this morning. The sleep you'd just woken from had been helpful, no doubt, but you wished you felt a little more normal today, instead of sleep deprived and emotionally unsteady. You had important work to do; you needed to head home fast, needed to not get distracted by San like you always did. You couldn't afford to spend the rest of the afternoon here eating and watching a musical, forcing him to recreate it with you. You had a musical of your own to edit.

"Hey," he said when you poked your head out of his room, walking gingerly over to him in the kitchen. He was preparing some lunch for himself; a block of tofu lay resting on the counter, as San chopped peppers and onions and broccoli. The smells of ginger and garlic already wafted from the pan, and San stood shirtless, in just grey sweat pants as he cooked, looking like someone out of any person's dreams.

"Hey," you responded, sighing. His body was alight with energy; he must have hit the gym while you were sleeping, which always left him feeling perky and bright. It was wafting off of him, this positive energy, and it couldn't have conflicted more with the heavy stress coursing through you. It was abundant in your tone; you'd gotten less and less good at hiding it from him, how you felt. Especially this last month.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked you, tossing the onions and peppers into his pan before stirring them with a spatula.

"I can make it," you mumbled, crossing past him to the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf.

"Let me do it, I know you're exhausted," he said, coming over to you to grab the carton from your hands.

"No, I want to," you sighed, holding it to your side and out of his reach, a grumpy frown on your face.

"Okay, if you insist," he responded, palms up. Your terrible mood was worrying him deeply, but he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that this afternoon was in fact the time to finally do it. He'd been at the gym almost two hours, pumping himself up, doing every exercise he could think of to distract himself from the dread that was slowly filling him. It was like sand in an hour glass, falling slowly enough that he could forget it if he tried. Which he'd successfully done all morning, until your tired form appeared from his bedroom door.

You started preparing your food in silence, the sizzling of San's stir fry and clinking of dishes the only sounds in the room. You were thankful you'd be leaving him in a good mood; it was always hard to leave when he was sad, or grumpy, because every single part of you needed to make him feel better, needed a happy look on his face for you to feel okay. There was no doubt he was meal prepping for the week, given the amount of food he was making, and you sighed in hoping that the future days were on his mind now, instead of the past few.

"I realized something this morning," he said out of nowhere, tossing in his chopped tofu. Your eggs had just finished, so you turned off the burner, plopped them onto your plate, and grabbed your two slices of bread from the toaster, carefully spreading on the perfect amount of butter.

"What's that?" you asked, mind still elsewhere, running in circles and figure eights.

"We met exactly one year ago, today," he said, voice bright and breathy.

"Oh shit, really?" you asked, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer, then shoving a piece of toast in your mouth.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" he responded, voice lilting a bit. You mindlessly stuffed some eggs in your mouth, savoring the flavor of the local organic eggs that San always had in stock.

"Yeah, I just didn't realize it was that da-" you cut yourself off when you saw his face, his eyes glassy and jaw set. "Sannie, oh my god, don't cry. I'm not that special," you said, almost scoffing at the emotion coming off of him.

"Yes you are," he said, turning back to the pan on the stove, wiping something that must have been a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm really not," you responded, walking back towards his bedroom to find your phone again, which you'd accidentally left behind. Inside his room you could hear him speak from the kitchen, but you couldn't make out the words. You were distracted by the text you'd received from Maya, i'm doing even better, but Titi is still pretty bad. the Tylenol and everything has been so helpful though. and whatever those anti-nausea meds were, please thank San for me. she's able to keep down fluids now.

I'm glad to hear that. I hope she keeps getting better. She looked awful this morning, you responded, typing it out with your right thumb as your left hand balanced your plate of food.

"You gonna eat in here?" San asked from the doorway, and you snapped your head around to meet his gaze.

"No, sorry, just checking my phone. I had texted Maya asking how they were doing," you responded, mouth in a tight line.

"How's Tina?" he asked.

"Fine, it sounds like. Maya said to thank you for all the stuff you got them," you said.

"It's no biggie. I'm glad it's helping," he said, eyes blinking and face neutral. No biggie, the words made you want to roll your eyes. It was always 'no big deal' to him to do so much, and you'd started to realize that those words were total fucking bullshit. 'No biggie' was seemingly just a favorite English phrase of his, one that made him sound selfless and kind in the way he wanted to be. But you could see the flash of irritation in his eyes, you knew damn well that he was upset that you'd called this morning and made him feel obligated to come and help. He'd wanted your thanks for doing so, which you could recognize was fair. But he also should have said no, if he really didn't want to do it. You couldn't help the fact that he'd been lax with you since the start; one year now, as he'd just reminded you, of you pushing his boundaries and him relenting, and somehow he was still frustrated every time it happened. Like he didn't realize this was just how things were.

You waited till he turned around to point your eyes to the ceiling, a long deep sigh matching the movements of your eyes. You just had to eat and get out of here, one simple task. Then you could be home and worrying about the work ahead of you, or you could be on the phone to Tina and checking on her. You couldn't wait for the relief of hearing her voice.

"Did you hear what I said earlier?" San asked as you walked out of his room, sitting yourself down on his couch to finish your food.

"I don't know, what did you say?" you asked, placing your phone face down next to you.

"I asked if you remembered what you said to me that night we met, right before we came here?" he said, his own bowl of food in hand as he sat down a few feet from you.

"I don't think I do," you responded, sighing as you took another huge bite.

"Really?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes really, San, was it something I should remember?" you asked.

"It's just kind of funny, given what happened next," he said, taking a bite of his stir fry. You gave him a confused look, head cocking to the side. "You said, 'sure I'll come to your apartment, but I'm not fucking you'," he said, chuckling.

"I did not," you scoffed, shaking your head at the thought of it.

"You did, I swear," he continued, eyeing you. "Kind of crazy considering that's exactly what you did for the next forty-eight hours."

"Oh my god, shut up," you rolled your eyes, grabbing the throw pillow to your right and smacking his arm with it. He laughed and batted it away, careful to protect his food as you swung it recklessly. "Also, you say that as if I'm the only one involved in that activity, you ass. That was very much a 'it takes two to tango' situation, Sannie."

San laughed hard in response to that, his dimples popping and his chest rising and falling with each chuckle. He was satisfied to have brought out some humor in you; he knew that was the way he could get you to calm down, to feel a little better and be ready for everything he was about to launch into.

"Do you know that you're the only one other than my mom that I let call me Sannie?" he said, voice softer.

"No I didn't- wait, why?" you asked, suddenly really thinking about what he'd said.

"Uh- you just, I..." he looked at you with a confusing expression, face a mixture of what looked like shock and anticipation.

"Sannie is a special nickname only your mom uses for you?" you asked, tone harsher than he'd hoped.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking at you.

"Then why do you let me call you that?" you asked, placing your finished plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, then leaning back and crossing your legs and arms.

"Cause you're special to me," he said, resting the side of his head on his palm, eyeing you deeply now.

"San- I- I thought that was what everyone called you, I thought it was just your nickname. I wouldn't have started calling you that if I'd known it was a you and your mom thing. I'm not trying to be some replacement for her, or something," you stuttered, hands gesturing in front of your face to emphasize your point.

"Of course you're not a replacement for here, god, you're just special to me, can't you understand-"

"San, why would I be the only one who gets to use the special nickname? You have closer friends, a brother, other family you're close to, I'm just a girl you sleep with sometimes. I'm not the love of your life, or something, we're not married with a baby on the way, and now that we're a family unit of our own you're letting me use this special name for you. We're just friends, why didn't you tell me!?" you snapped, cutting him off mid sentence without a care in the world.

"We're not just friends, y/n," he grumbled, face stony. "And I don't see what a big deal it is that I let you use that nickname. You're the one who started using it without even asking me if it was okay," he shot back, face and body completely still.

"Fuck you," you muttered, standing up and grabbing your plate, walking over to the sink to clean it. "I know you think everything bad between us is my fault; you probably somehow think that shit you pulled last night is my fault, too."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, I wanted to apologize-"

"Oh, you wanted to apologize for choking me? Slapping me? Practically raping me?" you turned around, staring at him with wide, petulant eyes.

"Oh god, please don't use that word," he sighed, his food long abandoned as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"Why, cause it's honest?" you shot back, rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I did that baby, I know it was wrong, it was so wrong, I'm just, please know I'm so fucking sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you..." he trailed off, mumbling, a deep sniffle cutting off his words. He was sobbing into his hands, his bare shoulders moving up and down as he heaved, trying with all his might to stop himself from completely breaking down. The sight of it immediately shot right through you; you started crying too, in an instant a huge deluge of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor below. It was so painful, whatever this feeling was; it was like the entire foundation of your body was cracking, like you were about to crumble in on yourself and die on the spot.

"Sannie, please, stop crying," you managed to say, haphazardly wiping the tears from your eyes. But they kept coming; they wouldn't stop until his stopped, you realized; there was something in you that was breaking with him, like your beratement of him was a boomerang, swinging back and hitting you too.

"I can't, I'm sorry," he squeaked, and you'd never heard his voice like that, never seen him break down so severely.

"Sannie, please," you cried, and suddenly your feet were rushing over to him, and you wrapped your hands around his folded torso, your tears now falling onto the smooth plane of his back. "Please, when you cry I cry, and I don't wanna fucking cry right now."

It made him cry harder, hearing the desperation in your tone; he tried with all his might to calm himself, to take some deep breaths. But he didn't have the strength; the exhaustion from this past month was really catching up with him, and that high he was riding from the gym this morning was long gone. There was nothing he could do now to stop this; he never cried like this, he was sure the last time was more than a decade ago. He had no idea how to put an end to it.

"I'm sorry I used that word, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you chocked out, breathing through your tears as best as you could, holding onto him for dear life. There were no words on his tongue; he couldn't think of anything now, couldn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say to you, the conversation he'd worked himself up to all morning. Instead he was left with this terrible hollow hole in his chest; one you had created, one you filled, one that he feared more than anything. Your tears were the worst thing for him; the gash you'd carved only grew, deeper, wider, getting closer to the exact shape of you, and all he could do was sit himself up and grab you, wrapping you around him and holding you tight.

"You're not just my friend," he said, voice thin and weak with tears. "And right now I fucking hate you."

next part ->

Taglist: @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024 @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @completelyjae

@midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27

Thank you for reading and supporting me my loves! <3333

[bbokicidal]

hii! I was wondering if you could write skz boys' reaction after being rejected by yn? thank youuu

Quick drabble/hcs about this scenario because it's 5 AM -

SKZ + Reacting to Rejection

Chris takes rejection really well, actually. He doesn't overreact, doesn't ask you if you're sure about your decision. He trusts you can handle yourself and knows you well enough to know that if you don't think you would be well suited for each other - or that you're just not ready - then that was the right call.

Minho takes it kind of... hard. He's a little surprised, to be honest? Not in a bad way - He isn't mad at you, or surprised you said no. He's just surprised how deeply he hurts from it. But he'll handle it on his own.

Changbin seems to brush it off, but will feel it later. He might be too focused in the moment to really feel the rejection hitting him, the upset; But when he's laying in bed trying to sleep it will be all he can think about.

Hyunjin handles rejection really well! But also horribly. Face-to-face, he'll smile and nod and tell you he understands, because he does, really. But behind closed doors he's going to try to figure out what about him wasn't good enough for you or why you said no. He'll think it's him - that he's the problem - and likely try to better himself so he can try about with you in the future.

Jisung will handle it well in the sense that he'll be understanding about it, listen to your reasoning, but he'll take it to heart. Where Hyunjin will almost see it as a challenge, Jisung will see it as defeat. And he will most certainly cry about it in his bed at night. It may also heighten his anxiety for a while, and it's likely he won't be looking at anyone romantically for a good chunk of time after this.

Felix handles rejection really well. He understands people, understands why they make decisions when they do, understands that sometimes things just aren't mean to be. He still wants to be friends, still wants to be close, but will not make anymore flirtatious advances unless you show interest in the future first.

Seungmin handles it well, but it will take him a while to move on. Where Felix wants to remain friends and keep things normal, Seungmin may only remain close to you because he feels he has to since you're in the same friend group. And when you're around, he may shut down. He doesn't dislike you and isn't mad; He's just processing it, and it'll take a little time.

Jeongin will not handle the rejection well - simply because he's younger and hasn't had shit for a dating life. He was young when he went into the industry and had little to no romantic experience and has been hindered from it because of his job, so when he's rejected by the first person he's felt feelings for in a hot fucking minute - he's devastated. He'll come around, understand a little while later - but he will feel destroyed about it all. (He also puts his all into you before being rejected - Valentine's gifts, birthday gifts, buying dinner, seeing movies...)

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Hazbin Masterpost

Mimzy

Mimsy was an interesting one to work on. I wanted to make sure she looked inhuman like the other characters, but without making too big of a change. Canon Mimzy basically just has the black eyes and sharp teeth.

She's apparently loosely based off a chicken, which is why she has a hooked nose. But I knew pretty early on that I wanted to use peacock colors. It also helps increase the color variety of the cast by reducing the red.

More notes under the cut, including human Mimzy

Face: I gave her face markings that resemble running mascara, because I figured she wanted to be a showgirl or movie star or something. But she kept getting rejected, so she cried a lot. And apparently "mimsy" was a word coined by Lewis Carroll and is a blend of "miserable" and "flimsy".

She has vampire fangs for two reasons:

1. She leeches off others. Alastor was missing for 7 years, and the first thing she does is dump her problems on him.

2. In the 1920s, there was an equivalent to femme fetale called "Vamp". Vamps were more or less extra promiscuous versions of flappers.

Hair: An iconic 1920s hairstyle was finger waves. I made them a bit loose, because I didn't like how it looked plastered to her head.

I know she has a tattoo in the show, but I don't know how important it is for her to have it. So I just didn't bother with it. If it becomes significant, I'll add it back in.

Mimzy said that she and Alastor ran in the same circles while they were alive. He frequented the club that she sang at. But she also sounds like she's from New York, so I'm not sure how/why they ended up in the same place.

She died in the 1920s in her late 20s or early 30s. Not sure how she died.

1920s fashion--

I'll try to keep this brief. You know the stereotypical flapper dress? With the fringes? That wasn't really a thing. The style was slim, dropped waist, and no curves. The clothes weren't heavily tailored and just draped over the body like a potato sack. Fringes happened occasionally, but not often. More common was beading, pleats, tiers, and ruffles. The skirts were shorter than in previous generations, but they were still below the knee. Sometimes the stockings would be rolled down so the edge was visible--Scandalous!

While I appreciate the body diversity with Mimzy, she is honestly not an ideal choice to show off 1920s fashion. Plus sized women would utilize vertical lines to help create the illusion of thinness. So I changed canon Mimzy's film strip motif and made it vertical instead. Historically, the top would not be so form fitting, but I'm claiming that modern influences got to her a little bit. But in her human design I'm claiming it's just stylized.

The stereotypical flapper dress better resembles showgirls and lingerie, imo. Not entirely sure what to think of that, but there it is.

Makeup--There are two makeup styles to go over. Regular and movies.

Regular is fairly straight forward. Pale skin. Black eyeshadow(or a color that matched the eyes). Thin, pencil-drawn eyebrows that look kinda sad. Lips with an emphasized cupid's bow. Rosy blush on the center of the cheeks.

Movie makeup: I went down a rabbit hole with this topic. It gets pretty interesting, but I am simplifying a lot. I also only know the basics.

The 20s was a transition period of the types of film used. There was the older orthochromatic/blue-sensitive film, which struggled to pick up warmer colors. Reds ended up darker than they really were, and tended to emphasize facial blemishes. This was counteracted by lighting and makeup. They used Arc lights, which gave off a blue-green light, were noisy, and hard on the actor's eyes.

The idea was basically to wash everything in blue light, to counter any reds present. Then they just had to worry about values. White or creme makeup was used to even out the skin tone (At least for white people, didn't find anything for other skin tones, but I imagine the basic idea would be similar). Then dark blues were used to contour the face, enhance definition/contrast, and mimic blush. Light blues would act as highlights. The lips would vary based on if you wanted a natural look or not. Greens and yellows could get a natural to dark lipstick appearance. If red was used, it could only get a dark lipstick look. Overall, the actors would have looked pretty weird.

If regular makeup colors were used, then everything would end up looking too dark.

Panchromatic film started becoming more widespread by the late 1920s. It had a wider range of sensitivity(but was still more blue sensitive than the human eye, which is more yellow sensitive. Reds were difficult for film even into the 21st century. That could lead me into a tangent about the Raimi Spiderman films, but I'll hold it in). They were able to switch to incandescent lighting, which were quieter(important for the rise of "talkies") and easier to maintain. The way makeup was previously used in movies was essentially invalidated.

(Below)I'm not sure what type of film the left side was designed for exactly, possibly panchromatic(because the green and purple is an interesting choice) or early color. But the right side is for blue-sensitive films.

I guess I bring this up because it's interesting, and helps me justify her blue-green color scheme.

I think that's everything relevant.

(edit notes will go here if needed)

[spitdrunken]

RUNNING TO YOUR INBOX. for the valentines thing: Adam Hazbin Hotels fat ass and uhhh 🔪 &/or 🕊️

hes so perfect for that combo im giggling

HIIIIII <33333 have a little prequel piece to an order and a curse!!!!! where you are all still human! and reader has decidedly less mixed feelings about him (AKA Hates Him LOL)

notes: INCEST (parent/child, reader is an adult) unhealthy relationships, references to past (incestuous) pregnancy, breeding kink, extremely dubious consent, biblical references, definitely not period-appropriate language

===

Your father truly believes he's the one who has it the hardest. You've grown numb, accustomed to the curse that God has placed on you. To bear fruit again and again, in pain, with no say in the matter. It has been this way for so long now.

But your father never stops riling against the work that is required on the land, to feed himself and his family. Every single day he complains, even with your brothers now working along also. His resentment seems to encompass the idea of labour as a whole. (Perhaps that is the reason he was assigned this curse. You could hardly think of a worse way to punish such a self-conceited man.) Again and again, you've listened to him complain.

He hates the calluses on his hands, a result from holding his tools for hours at a time. The scars on his arms from yanking thistles out of the ground and their merciless yanking on his flesh. The dirt that gets stuck underneath his broken nails. The sweat and grime that cover his body in layers and layers and layers. The way his body has become thin and lean, a tightly bound knot of muscle and nothing else, clearly outlining his missing rib.

("When I get the fuck out of here," he'd say, hair sticking to his forehead and a mouthful of hard bread in between his jaws, "I am never going to stop eating. Not even for a fucking second. I looked so much better when I had shit to eat!")

You've asked to go outside. You're sure that you could help, like your brothers do. You'd kill to feel the dirt underneath your feet, the wind against your skin, the sun glaring in your eyes. Instead, he keeps you inside, always and forever. Not even your mother is chained up as tightly as you are. You simply aren't allowed to leave.

Instead, you have your own purposes at home. When your father returns from another long day of working the land, angry and miserable and exhausted, you're there to take the edge off. He'll slump back wherever he's seated, and let you do all the work for him.

"Let you outside? You're screwing with me, right? I prefer…" He pants, then sucks in a breath. "To have your hands nice and soft. Squeeze a little harder, yeah, that's right." You know exactly what he likes, exactly how to get this over with as soon as possible. You don't even complain or fight it much anymore. Why bother? He hisses when you bring him to the edge, hand latching on your waist and squeezing down hard. It's the most he's moved since you've started helping him 'settle down for the evening'. "No, no, no— Slow down." He gives you that lecherous, wide grin that lets you know how the rest of the night is going to go. Though it sends a shiver up your spine, heat pools in between your legs as well. You tell yourself that it's your body trying to make it easier for you. "It'd be such a waste, baby. You should have a seat, too. Gonna fill you up nice and good." He really needs to work on his lines. But you nod. It's never a struggle to get him inside of you, your body perfectly moulded to fit with his.

[s0m3b0dy2u]

"but roman..."

"why didnt you script youre immune to hate" / "why did you literally script haters into your dr???"

three words: because it's funny.

I scripted that hate doesn't bother me, and that i think it's funny. also, im very petty and i cant do dumb shit just to spite the haters if there are no haters. i did script that my friends dont get any/get very little hate. for example, people only think good things about theo because he literally posts the most gorgeous photographs, shes amazing at their job, and hes just the kindest person to literally everyone they meet. nico has haters in the way any loud and obnoxious youtuber will but theyre very few and far between and he also finds them funny, but in a slightly different way then i do. felix's legitimate work is amazing, and theres so little room for criticism to begin with, and most of his shitty takes are on tumblr, so hes safe. venus gets the same kind of hate anyone that makes the kind of music she does will, also largely angry christians like i have in my hatebase. she, of course, is the best at handling hate out of any of us. shes absolutely brutal. shes also the first to clap back if any of her friends get any hate to begin with. of course, she has the largest fanbase out of all of us so... yk how that goes, im sure. she also like... thrives off of drama.

also, i've litterally written whole critical articles about myself, if anyone wants to read them

Blasphemy Disguised as Art: The Dangerous Message of Empire’s 666

Style Over Substance? The Fall of Rome’s Theatrics

etc.

the first one is my favorite (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

lets talk about 666

the only reason the ep (or even me in general) blew up as hard as it did is because of christian supremacists.

!! i dont hate christians or christianity, and i do not intend to mock the religion itself !! 666 is about my own personal struggles with religion !! also, the christians im talking about here are the kind that hardly live like christians--the ones that dont live and lead with kindness, but instead anger, and the kind that would condemn you to hell if they saw you walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same sex because "its a sin." the bible says we, as humans, are in no right to judge one another, etc. etc. etc. the reason i didnt script people like this out in this dr is because theyve greatly helped shape the person i am today--for better or for worse. (i feel the need to mention, now, i did script out homophobia, transphobia, and other forms of discrimination) !!

these people, maybe they saw the album cover, read the lyrics, or even just read the album and song titles, whatever it was they got so pissed. most of them havent seen anything else about me, and just jumped to the "hes encouraging devil worship" "he thinks hes better than God" etc etc etc. this lead more and more people to seeing my stuff and so... yeah

also the people that are like "EMPIREs too theatric" "romes too dramatic" like... no shit?? thats my whole thing?? idk what to tell you. my fans eat it tf uppppp too.

the people that are like "mmm maybe try making happy music now?? :/" piss me off tho like no???? my whole thing is doom and gloom. i am death incarnate, im fuckin--IM A VAMPIRE OK IM SUPPOSED TO BE VAMPIRIC ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა /silly

also theres nothing funnier than tiktok comments like "you need jesus" and "go read the bible" pllssss what????? (╥﹏╥) lmaoooo

and like keep hating, all youre doing is making me more famous??? idk like....

i also love ironic haters

like yes, lets pretend we hate each others guts while were sitting in a cozy lil cafe tg

lets say we hate each others music and then drop a collab not even a week later

૮꒰˶> ᴗ <˶꒱ა

uhhhh rant over

if youre still here, how was your day/morning? remember to take care of yourselves, drink some water, eat something--even if it's just a little bit--and take a break if you need to. i love you all <3 have a nice day/night

[ihaznoclue]

Just Imagine...

Pairings -> Bumblebee x Reader

Warnings -> Family issues, school issues

Note -> Thought of something cute so why not do it with my precious boy Bumblebee!

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Just Imagine this... You and Bumblebee are both having a very hard and bad day. Bee has been working hard non-stop and he's getting tired of it but something else has pissed him off today.

With you, you're just pissed off since you have no more patience anymore, school has just been draining you and you just didn't want to go back home to get your parents yelling at you and at each other.

It was like those days where you wanted to punch something or someone who dares talk to you since you were in such a bad mood. Now here you are sitting next to your partner Bee who hasn't seen to be his cheery self.

You wondered what happened back there in his mission that got him so riled up, he's never like this unless there is a reason.

You thought he would be happy after getting his voice back and everything else, you might think it's about his home and that he couldn't leave just yet.

Bee was also wondering why you were in a bad mood as well, you're usually all over the place and always love to laugh with Miko with her terrible jokes and actions.

You didn't even know what time it was to be honest on how long you have stayed here at the base for.

So you checked your phone as it shown '9:24pm' then you thought of an idea that can help cheer both you and bee. So you tapped on bee to get his attention.

"I want to show you something" You gave a small smile towards him, he nodded as he had nothing better to do anyways so he followed you up onto the top of the base

As soon as you stepped out, the cold gentle breeze blew right past you, making your hair go everywhere which caused a chuckle from Bee who was behind you

At least he's laughing

Now you were sitting together, You sitting on Bee's shoulder as he was careful to not drop you, his legs dangling over the edge

"Looks at all the stars tonight" You whispered

"I never seen so many stars" Bee spoke

"Well you are now" You happily spoke, still looking up at the sky then thought it was the best time to ask why bee was so grumpy earlier

"Hey Bee, may I ask you something?" You asked which caused bee to look at you

"Sure, what is it?"

"I have been meaning to ask this for a while now but I didn't want to make anything worse, but What happened earlier to make you so mad? Is it something that happened back at your mission that got you so riled up? You weren't your cheery happy self" You asked

Bee thought for a moment, "What happened at the mission was that Starscream commented something about you and that just hit something in me. I just couldn't let that slide with me." Bee spoke, you could also hears his whirrling as his fist tightened

"But I am also meaning to ask you something as well, the same question that is" Bee then asked

"Oh, it's just nothing too special actually just school and my parents"

"Are they fighting again?"

"..."

"Flower, you can tell me"

"I just didn't want to go back there after everything that has happened, and school is making everything worse for me."

There was a moment of silence...

.

..

...

"Let's just try to forget all that for now, let's just enjoy each other"

Your shoulders now slouched down from the tense you've been holding for a while, the breeze came back making you shiver a little

You heard Bee chuckle, "You cold?" He asked, you nodded as you rub your arms up and down to warm yourself up

"Let's go back inside, warm you up and then I'll take care of you, My little flower"

Just thought of something before I go off to Camp tomorrow

-A<3

[wisteriahyacinth]

@fhfnejd @alwaysstreetsahead thank you for caring 🥺😭😥 here is part 2. Going more in depth.

I think the main reason why I'd struggle to be friends with everyone is because of the timing. The best way I could describe it is if you wanted to make friends with a stranger at a funeral. Like, you know you're never gonna see them ever again, but the timing to make friends is SO BAD.

I'd also like to add that I have like 0 social skills online and irl, so there's that. I overthink, get intimidated easily, and I always wonder if my friends are actually my friends. Like.. lukewarm friends aren't a consept to me. You're either a friend, or not.

First off, Luke:

I feel like he already has such a disconnect with everyone at camp except for Annabeth. He probably saw everyone as a duty or a responsibility. He'd probably be nice to me, as he was nice to pretty much everyone, even Percy. He literally stole stuff just for him. But I feel like I'd wonder if he'd see me as a friend, which probably wouldn't make me think we were. We could bond over parent stuff cuz duh, but then again, I don't think we'd be close so I wouldn't consider him a friend.

Next, Percy. He gives off not the energy I'd vibe with. He's.. mischievous? Trickster-y? Not necessarily a person I'd gravitate toward. I'd probably avoid him. But if I didn't avoid him, again, I'd probably feel bad for trying to comr up to him when he's mourning over the loss of his mom. Then of course after TLT he's like super popular and busy and stressed. I don't think I'd have the courage to walk up to someone like him. He's charismatic and charming. Not a person I'd feel comfortable yapping my interests to.

Annabeth: knowing Athena kids and their fatal flae of pride, I'd probably.. really dislike her? I'd feel threatened and unhappy. But again if I wanted to walk up to her, she's again super intimidating. She's an amazing strategist and fighter even before the og series. Like.. i know for a fact that I'd suck at everything demigodly, (despite the quiz saying im an athena kid, which NO I WANNA BE A HERMES KID, I AM NOT SMART) and i don't think Annabeth would want to be friends with me. She also just seems really cold. I feel like what would happen is that we'd meet at the arts and crafts area or library, and she'd either look very busy, or if I tried to talk to her, she would probably look uninterested and I'd overthing, causing me to ignore her forever (EVEN IF THE QUIZ SAYS SHE'S MY SISTER)

Jason: there are 2 ways we could go about this. Either im a roman camper or a greek camper. Let's start with roman

Roman- if I was a Roman camper, I assume I'd be put in the worst cohort. Perfect since Jason belongs there. BUT! Knowing his reputation, he'd probably really intimidate me. Like yeah, he tried his goddamn best to be down to earth, but I have the strange feeling that he'd be.. like Mai from ATLA? Just, trying his best to be down to earth and normal, but also walking a tightrope to use his power and influence to make things better. He has to be rigid and stiff for people to respect him enough to make changes. Like.. maybe I'd be friends with him, but I try really really hard to be friends with someone. This might cause him to think that I have bad intentions when in reality, im just insecure. He'd probably be friends with me, because I know I'd be like at the very bottom of the rank, but then again, i feel like I'd worry if our friendship was genuine.

Greek- If I was greek, I'd probably just seem him come into camp one day using the roman names of the gods. Which probably would put me off, but i don't think it would stop me from wanting to be friends with him. I just think that with him being all busy with the quest and stuff, that I'd have no time to get to know him and that I'd still probably be intimidated by him. If not by him, then I'd probably be scared of Piper hating me for wanting to be friends with him.

Piper: Knowing me, I'd probably try to make friends with Jason first. This could make her potentially dislike me. But if I didn't, I don't know if I'd have enough in common with her to be friends with her. Just thinking about her character, I don't know if she'd be willing to listen to be ramble about random things. It'd probably be like with Annabeth, where I try to talk to her, then I end up not knowing how to continue the conversation, and then overthink causing me to just completely avoid her.

Leo: I might actually become friends with Leo, assuming he isn't stuck in his cabin? Like.. he seems funny, and I know for a fact that I'd see through his facade cuz I RELATE BRO. Like, I may not know WHY, but I know we'd relate to each other. He seems charming enough for me to want to get to know him, but also not very cold or judgemental, which may make me inclined to talk to him. I just don't know if we'd have much of a friendship cuz duh, main characters have too interesting of lives and basically forget friendships with characters that aren't main characters. :(

Frank: Frank seems to be.. normal and approachable. Like.. he doesn't strike me as a person whp would judge me for being weird. And I feel like we'd relate to not associating with our godly parents. Like i took the quiz and got Athena, but i associate more with hermes. Because strategy n stuff, i suck at, but Luke in TLT described Hermes kids as jacks of all trades and masters of none, which feels perfect for me. Just like how Frank felt like he didn't fit in with the typical child of Mars stuff and preferred to be seen as a child of Apollo.

Hazel: She also seems like Frank, very sweet and nice and normal. She doesn't seem like she'd judge me. She might scare me a bit because she can be very strong, but hey, that just means that if she saw me feeling insecure about my friendship with her, she'd reassure me strongly.

Grover: I might become friends with Grover? The only thing is that I wonder if I'd feel secure. Because like.. what if he only became friends with me because of his job of being a protector?

Silena: I think I'd become friends with her. She just seems like a sweet person. All she wants to do is make things better. Especially with the Aphrodite rite of passage. She seems to be a good person who will do the right thing when it's needed.

Will: I don't know, because again, he has so many responsibilities. He'd probably intimidate the hell out of me. And the timing too! I could have made friends with him in like.. TTC? But.. I dunno.

Nico: HOW WOULD I MAKE FRIENDS WITH THIS GUY?? HE'D SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME. Like.. there's a chance that I'd want to be friends with him. He's a loner, im a loner, it makes sense. But also.. i imagine him to just look constantly unhappy. I feel like I'd fear him getting angry at me. I'd probably try to talk to him about.. something? Maybe something nerdy if I snooped enough to know that about him? But I really don't know if he'd be willing to listen to me talk about Superman for 2 hours.

Reyna: Reyna is just like Jason. She's just.. so stiff and rigid. Like.. she just looks so intimidating. Assuming im a roman in this scenario, when she first gets to camp, she's probably already very skilled. I could have tried making friends with her, but then again, she was like Jason. A perfect candidate to be preator. Someone who is seen like that is very responsible, very put together. Aka, the perfect person to scare me away and make me feel self-conscious. I'd probably have a better chance making friends with Jason compared to Reyna.

Rachel: There's just no way. She's like.. a minor celebrity or something? Rich and powerful and an activist. I could very well have become friends with her talking about activism stuff, but she's also rich and well, she just seems like a person who'd make me insecure again.

Thalia: There is literally no time in which a regular camper could talk to Thalia. She gets revived then is sent on a mission to get Nico and Bianca. Then there's the whole quest in TTC then she becomes a hunter. WHERE IN THAT TIME AM I, A REGULAR CAMPER SUPPOSED TO TALK TO HER?? Also she's punk.. I feel like she'd scare me away. Like.. maybe I'd think really hard to talk to her. But then i feel like a convo with her might fizzle out and make me overthink again.

Is there anyone im missing? I really dunno if I should make a part 3 lol

[qoldenskies]

Okay okay I'll yammer about Rise!Splinter in your ask box because oh my god I cannot STAND people who legitimately villainize him on main. Like, alright, you can call him an emotionally unavailable or even slightly neglectful parent all you want, because even the show itself makes it clear that his parenting style wasn't exactly PERFECT and probably left the boys with at least a SMALL myriad of issues (Raph's parentification and Donnie's constant need for approval come to mind, though I can't say for sure whether those are entirely borne of Splinter's parenting style lmao). But I feel like so many people through trying to villainize his actions deliberately gloss over the fact that he was probably struggling with hardcore PTSD after spending a decade or more basically being forced to fight in a DEATH ARENA, not to mention probably having a good deal of body dysmorphia because he's suddenly been kind of forcefully shoved into a body that he can't even recognize as his own anymore. PTSD is a genuinely crippling condition to struggle with at times. On top of the depression he more than likely had, it'll make you not even want to get out of bed some days, and to struggle with that AND take care of four INFANTS that you've basically suddenly found yourself the sole caretaker of HAD to require a great deal of both mental and physical strength from Splinter. I'm sure he had his hard days, and the show points that out, but he was still trying his damn hardest to be there and be present for these kids, even if he fucked it up at every turn, even if he was far from the BEST parental figure that they could have had.

People can critique his parenting style as they wish (hell, even I do it), but so many depictions of him as an awful parent feel like they're glossing over the legitimate mental issues that he more than likely has, and idk sometimes I just feel like yammering about it on main

yeah like, a parent can seriously fuck you up completely unintentionally and have understandable, sympathetic reasons for it (while still not being in the right! a kid is never in the wrong for being hurt by an adult who failed them! but they're also well within their right to understand and empathize with a complicated parent who loves and changes for them!). generally im sure a lot of people who write abusive parent splinter genuinely had horrendous and abusive parents and are venting, which is why i tend not to be judgemental to people who do. characters are ultimately devices to drive a plot and if they're writing a story where they want to put them through some shit, that's one way to do it. aus are aus and allat

HOWEVER. lord does it frustrate me when people act like his behavior in the show itself is actually like that. i think its really uncharitable and unsympathetic. like if you want to see some of the things he did to them as potentially unforgivable thats fine, because if they're upset with him they dont have to forgive him, but him dealing with crippling ptsd and depression while being someone who goes out of his way to parent and change and grow while handling it just makes it idk nasty to me ,,,,

and also maybe this is just a hot take but esp. when it comes to raph and donnie i think them having more complex feelings about him makes for more compelling angst. its juicier, and i love to read stories that are empathetic towards everyone involved.

i am not a splinter defender but i will still fight splinter haters (not actually. dont fight me i will cry, i dont main tag most things anymore for a reason lmao)

[kt-the-lee]

A Moment Of Silly - a Criminal Minds Tickle Fic

hello my lovely community! it has been brought to my attention that there is a serious lack of Criminal Minds tickle fic, so i thought i would rectify this situation! i actually wrote this one a few months ago and i legitimately just forgot to post it, but honestly i have no idea why because think it's my favourite ticfic I've ever written and i am still very proud of it :D

A/N: this was initially just meant to be a lee!hotch fic at first - but i couldn't NOT write a bit of lee!reid because THAT MEAN NEEDS TO BE WRECKED AT EVERY OPPORTUNITY OKAY I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

Word Count: 3678

Lees: Aaron Hotchner (mainly) and Spencer Reid (i couldn't resist)

Lers: Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid

The jet was mostly silent as the team settled into hour 2 of their 5 hour flight. Hotch slept across two seats with Derek also deep in slumber across from him. Spencer and Emily were completely engrossed in an intense round of chess, complete with glares and sighs as they routinely outsmarted each other. JJ had tucked herself in a corner, going over some requests for the BAU and quietly ranking them in importance in her brain.

This comfortable silence did not last, however, as a low giggle filled the plane. Everyone conscious whipped their heads around, making confused eye contact and trying to decipher who the hell had just made that noise.

“Spence, that MUST’VE been you,” said JJ, not entirely sounding sure herself on her own conclusion.

“Nuh uh, I’m sat opposite him!” said Emily. “He didn’t make a sound!”

“Maybe it was a ghost!” grinned Spencer. “I’ve had a growing theory that this jet is haunted, and this just proves-“

He was cut off by the giggle again, but this time the three awake were conscious enough to trace the sound back to its origin. The origin being a fast asleep, brunette man with a grin etched upon his face in his slumber.

The three couldn’t help but giggle in return, trying to stifle their volume so as to not awaken their fellow sleeping agents, but this was becoming all the more difficult as their own giggles mixing with Hotch’s unconscious chuckles led them into a moment of pure silly.

“Y’know what,” pondered Emily as she managed to compose herself from her giggles. “I don’t actually think I’ve heard Hotch genuinely laugh before. That might just be because I haven’t known him as long as you guys, but I do think that’s the closest I’ve heard.”

Spencer and JJ locked eyes, both thinking back on the time they’d known Hotch. They both thought long and hard, trying to sift through memories of mirth in the BAU and trying to recall whether Hotch shared in their joy. They both came to the same conclusion.

“I haven’t actually heard him properly laugh before either.” said JJ, a hint of sadness to her voice.

“Well, there could be plenty of reasons for this!” said Spencer, emitting a groan from the others as they felt an infodump coming. “Laughter is inherently vulnerable, and Hotch tries to keep a shield up as much as he can. As well as this, laughter is a purely social activity, proven in the fact that you are 40x more likely to laugh when in a social setti-HEHEHEY!”

Spencer’s infodump was cut short as he felt Emily reach under the table and squeeze the muscles above his knee a few times. His knee shot up, trying desperately to curl and wriggle away but the table above his legs entirely blocked him from doing so. Instead, all he managed to achieve was knocking over the entire chessboard.

“Now THAT was uncalled for!” protested Spencer, still giggling.

“I think it was fully called for!” chuckled Emily, giving his knee another squeeze for good measure. It was then that JJ had a lightbulb moment, the idea growing on her face in the form of a devious grin so obvious that both Spencer and Emily enquired to what was going on in her brain.

“I think I have an idea on how to hear more of Hotch’s laugh!” grinned JJ, ambling over to take the seat next to Spencer.

Emily caught on instantly, glancing over at their slumbering superior and chuckling to herself at the thought of Hotch being made to giggle like Spencer had done previously. Spencer, however, still looked confused and had somehow missed the cues between the girls. “What are you two on about?”

JJ and Emily both rolled their eyes.

“Care to help me clarify?” asked the brunette to the blonde, reaching back under the table to resume her squeezing motions on Spencer’s knee as the man let out yet another stifled yelp. JJ’s grin somehow widened further, her hands finding home under Spencer’s arms, scribbling and poking at his underarms through his shirt.

Spencer squealed and fell backwards, shooting his arms down and knees up into the table, again. JJ and Emily couldn’t help but tease the poor boy:

 “Well, you’ve trapped my hands under your arms now! I guess they’ll just have to stay here tickling until you lift them again!”

“Shhhh, you have to be quiet Spencer! Hotch and Morgan are asleep! This is so inconsiderate of you to laugh this loudly”

“What’s wrong Spence? You’ll definitely end up injuring yourself if you keep wriggling like this, just keep still!”

“Tickle tickle tickleeeeeee~”

Upon that last remark from Emily, Spencer’s shrieks and squeals got to a volume that stirred Derek from his slumber. The duo immediately clocked that he had woken up, but made no move to stop their attack as Derek immediately smiled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Get his belly, the poor boy’s like a puppy dog really” encouraged Morgan, earning a string of curses from the victim.

“Hehehehehey! We’ve detracted from the original point of this discUSSION-” Spencer’s laugh jumped an octave as JJ’s hand slipped under his shirt and fingers danced patterns all over his stomach. This, coupled with Emily’s hands now sneaking behind his knee, sent Spencer’s brain into overdrive as his endearing laughter filled the plane.

“He does have a point” said JJ. “And we probably shouldn’t carry this on for too much longer as this idiot is incapable of not overreacting, we don’t want to wake Hotch before we’re ready!”

Emily nodded in agreement, and both girls retracted their attack on the youngest member of the team. Spencer immediately curled in on himself and pouted, muttering under his breath

“I wasn’t OVERREACTING.” He grumbled. “There’s plenty of theories why some people are more ticklish than others, all of which are conflicting, but regardless I cannot help that I ended up on the more unfortunate end of the spectrum.”

“’Unfortunate’ my ASS!” retorted Derek, finally awake enough to amble over and take the seat next to Emily. He then reached underneath the table to squeeze at Spencer’s knees once more, earning a yelp and a flinch. “We all know you love it, genius. You give yourself away.”

This earned a kick and a glare from Spencer, but he couldn’t mask the smile that lingered on his face. The three others just chuckled; they all knew Spencer loved the attention and the silliness, and they loved how embarrassed he was by it.

“Anyway, we’ll leave you be now. What WAS the original point of the discussion?” pondered Morgan, remembering what Spencer had touched upon earlier. “And why was Reid getting his ass handed to him? Not that he doesn’t usually deserve it.”

Another kick from Spencer made Derek laugh as JJ explained about Hotch laughing in his sleep, how they’d drawn the conclusion that they’d never heard Hotch laugh properly, how they’d come to tickle Spencer in the first place, and the plan that they were hatching before they got distracted with the former point. Derek grinned, mischief flooding his face as he excitedly nodded his head at the beginnings of this plan.

“Oh it’ll 100% work.” He smiled, a fond memory filling his brain. “I have actually heard Hotch laugh before – I visited him for whatever reason one Sunday afternoon, Haley answered the door and led me through to the living room where him and Jack were playing tickle monster. Obviously it was more of Jack getting tickled by his dad, but occasionally he would get him back, and his reactions did seem pretty genuine!”

JJ and Emily’s eyes lit up at this, grinning with fondness over at the (somehow) still-sleeping Hotch.

“So… we’re absolutely doing this, right?” said Emily.

“Oh, 100%” smirked JJ.

As JJ said this, the quartet all whipped their heads around as they heard Hotch shuffle on the sofa. He had gone from curled up on his side, mimicking the position of a foetus, to fully spread out on his back like a stretching cat. He appeared to still be fast asleep, although now, the position he laid in drew immediate attention to his torso. The four burst into giggles once more at this.

“Oh, it’s like he’s ASKING for it.” chuckled Morgan. “He’s literally left himself wide open for us.”

This statement from Morgan was more ironic than any of them realised, as that was exactly what Hotch had done.

Truth be told, Hotch had woken up to the same squeal from Reid that caused Morgan to rise. However, he had initially just tried to go back to sleep as, as much as he knew the team needed those playful moments of silly between them, he didn’t feel the need to get involved himself. It wasn’t until he overheard the conversation that followed from Reid’s attack that his interest piqued. Clearly, the fact that he’d inadvertently giggled in his sleep was fascinating to the rest of his team, and he decided in that moment to have a little bit of fun with them. Hotch wasn’t actually all that ticklish himself, so he knew he could fend off his team of FBI children very easily. It was this conclusion that led him to roll onto his back “in his sleep”, just to enhance the game for the others.

He felt the presence of four people surround him as he worked to keep his breathing mimicking that of an asleep person. Endeared by the childish whispers and giggles of the team, he enjoyed how much fun they were having, like a group of children ganging up on a very patient dad.

“So what do we do first?”

“You’re meant to be the genius, pretty boy!”

“Yes well I’m usually on the receiving end, aren’t I!”

“Don’t grumble, we all know how much you love it”

“Oh shut up, JJ”

“All of you shut up or you’ll blow this for us!”

Their petty squabbling was silenced by Emily. She brought a finger to her mouth, indicating utmost silence from the rest of the team as they obliged. She then leant over and began to trace very gentle patterns into Hotch’s shirt, just about where the front of his ribs met the top of his stomach. She slowly increased the intensity, trying not to wake him too suddenly but at the same time trying to eek out any reaction from the man.

Nothing.

“Oh come ON” she grumbled under her breath, walking her fingers down to spider at his entire torso through his shirt. She covered all bases; stomach, sides, every indent of his ribs.

Still, nothing.

“You have got to be kidding me. That would’ve had Reid absolutely convulsing if I’d pulled that move on him!”

Spencer glared and reached over to poke Emily’s side, earning a squeak from her and an elbow into his arm. “Clearly not just me, then.” He smirked.

Emily looked ready to unleash hell on Spencer once again before JJ separated them both. “Task at hand, people! You two had better behave before I ground you both.”

JJ signalled to Morgan to up the ante. He sat on the floor at the lower half of Hotch, trying every tickly method he could think of on his knee to try and irk even a smile out of him. JJ settled at the other end, using her nails to scritch all the way around Hotch’s neck.

Once again, nothing.

JJ huffed in disappointment and Morgan let out a stream of curses at their failed attempts to tickle their superior.

“Literally, how.” pondered Morgan. “I know we all bully Reid here, but I think all four of us would’ve at least had SOME reaction to that, I mean come ON”

“Well, he could still be ticklish!” said Spencer. “The nerve cells that produce the tickle response, although often found in the same places across most human beings, can be found in unorthodox places sometimes! That being said, we haven’t even covered all bases with the obvious spots yet, like there’s the feet-“

“I wouldn’t waste your time.” a low, fifth voice joined the conversation.

The four whipped their heads back around to stare at Hotch, eyes open and grinning up at them. They all looked absolutely outraged, and the expressions of their faces alone was enough to earn a small chuckle from the man.

“It was a nice try, guys. But clearly you just profiled me wrong.” He smirked. “I’ve been awake for awhile, I just thought it’d be a little bit funny to see you hatch your devious plans like that for it to not come to fruition.”

He chuckled again as his team couldn’t seem to find any words, only disgruntled grumbles and glares of apparent defeat.

“You can carry on tickling me if you want! I can laugh and wriggle and do a full Reid on you, I do that with Jack sometimes to let him when we play!”

This did not appease the team as Derek let out a grumble of “No, it wouldn’t be the same.”

Hotch chuckled again and settled his arms behind his head, closing his eyes once more. “Nice try anyway, team. It was a good effort.”

And he thought that would be the end of it.

In fact, it almost was. Emily and Morgan had begun to shuffle to their original seats, but JJ and Spencer stood still, eyes glancing between Hotch and each other. They both recounted the attack from earlier, JJ’s tease about Spencer trapping her hands under his arms replaying in both of their minds as they glanced at Hotch’s now-exposed underarms.

“Hey, Reid, you know what you were saying earlier about covering all bases?” JJ whispered in a hushed tone.

Spencer nodded. “You’ve read my mind, actually.”

The pair quickly caught Emily and Morgan and relayed their theory to them, hatching a far quieter plan between the four of them as to avoid Hotch’s listening ears.

Hotch felt their presence around him once more, and jumped slightly as Derek spoke to him far closer to his ear than he was expecting.

“Actually, Hotch, we’re bored.” he said. “And also don’t believe you. At all. So we’re going to take you up on your previous offer.”

“Oh? Go ahead.” said Hotch, not making any movement from the position he was in.

Emily dove in again immediately, repeating the motions she had previously crafted on his torso once more, far more determined this time. Hotch just shrugged, a slight grin forming on his face from the sensations, but nothing more.

JJ and Morgan also resumed their motions from earlier, this time switched in roles. JJ used the squeezing technique on Hotch’s knees that had driven Spencer up the wall previously, and Morgan tantalisingly tracing every nerve cell on his neck, digging in at the odd pressure point. Hotch shuffled slightly and chuckled in surprise, not expecting all three of them to coordinate like this. It didn’t tickle enough for him to outwardly react more than the single surprised chuckle, and was ignorable enough to remain still and smug.

That was, until, Spencer joined the fray.

A pair of hands crept from where Morgan was sat, resting in a claw shape on Hotch’s underarms. Spencer curled and uncurled his fingers a single time, the quartet watching Hotch stiffen at the sensation, this simple movement alone sending a zap of panic through him. His eyes widened along with his smile and, even though Spencer hadn’t made any further movement yet, instinctively snapped down his arms.

Well, he tried to, anyway.

Morgan was quicker than Hotch, immediately stopping the onslaught on his neck and quickly catching his wrists, preventing him from putting his arms down. Hotch tried desperately to fight Morgan’s grip, but he was simply not strong enough. The grip around his wrists and arms left his underarms fully exposed, and this realisation alone was enough for Hotch to lose his cool demeanour.

“He’s all yours, pretty boy.” chuckled Morgan as Hotch struggled in his grip, trying and failing to bring his arms down and protect the spot that had been so cruelly exposed.

“JJ, Emily, stop a sec.” ordered Spencer. “I want to see if this is gonna get him as bad as I think it will.”

The girls grinned and ceased their motions. Hotch protested, counting on the fact that he could distract himself from the one spot that would light him on fire by focussing on the duller sensations. The quartet simply ignored him, all four watching with shit-eating grins on their faces as Spencer started to repeat the curling motions from earlier, this time not stopping and slowly increasing in intensity.

Hotch screwed up his face, trying desperately to ignore how much it fucking TICKLED. He couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth turning upwards as Reid persisted, the chuckling from the four of them not helping the situation in any way.

“He looks about ready to explode!”

“What’s wrong, Hotch? Thought you weren’t ticklish?”

“Seems we profiled you correctly after all!”

“C’mon Reid, you can try harder than that!”

Spencer glared at Emily. “What more could I be doing right now! I am tickling him, am I not?”

“Not PROPERLY. You’re literally just spidering.” huffed Emily. “You’d think someone as ticklish as you would know exactly how to tickle someone else!”

“Well, funnily enough, I don’t really pay much attention to your technique when you get me!” said Spencer, an embarrassed flush returning to his cheeks. He tried to think scientifically about the attack from earlier, and how JJ had been tickling his underarms. He switched up his movements, digging in more circular motions as opposed to the spider-like movements before.

Suddenly, they all heard it again. The same noise that had started this whole debacle.

The dam had broken. Hotch had spent such an effort beforehand to stifle his reactions that all of them just came at once. Low giggles very quickly turned to howling laughs as Reid abused this new technique, finding every tiny ticklish spot and making mental notes as to where his laugh changed in volume and pitch. He squirmed in Morgan’s grip, trying desperately and failing to get some relief from the onslaught. He then tried to bring his legs up, but a very determined Emily sat her entire weight on Hotch’s legs so he was fully immobile. All he could do was laugh.

And honestly? He didn’t mind it as much as he thought it would. It reminded him of playfights with Jack, except it was his four adult children. His four adult children who were getting incredible amounts of satisfaction from this, and his four adult children who could overpower him far more easily than his three-year-old son could.

Emily and JJ decided to resume their attacks from earlier, the brunette tweaking and poking at his sides whilst the blonde tormented his knees. Since the dam had been broken, these spots also seemed to get a decent reaction from Hotch as the combination of all three of them tickling him silly was enough for him to let out a squeal that was most unlike him. His four attackers erupted into laughter.

“Hotch, what was THAT.” howled Morgan, using what wiggle room he had to find sensitive pressure points around Hotch’s neck as he still held him tightly.

“I almost feel bad for him.” chuckled Spencer, shuddering as he imagined how dead he would be if this attack turned onto him.

“I don’t! He lied to us!” cried Emily, not in the slightest bit feeling any guilt. “He told us he wasn’t ticklish, but he is! He’s tickle tickle tickleeeeeeish-”

“Oh Emily that’s just CRUEL” grinned JJ. She herself had been on the receiving end when Emily had been full-tilt tickle monster, and she knew how much her words and teases made everything tickle so much worse.

Hotch could only laugh. He would get tired of this soon, he knew. He was never the biggest fan of being tickled, but life had been so intense lately that this moment of carefree, childlike silliness had benefited him more than he’d realised. He concluded that this couldn’t be a fix too often as it would just become repetitive and irritating, he had a certain image to maintain as their superior, after all. However, it was perfect for this moment, and the four could sense it. They knew him well enough to not tease him about how much he was visibly enjoying himself, however, as they knew it would ruin the moment immediately. So the quartet simply laughed along with him and poked fun at every noise and reaction he made.

Eventually, Hotch called it off. He lay back, catching his breath, residual chuckles still draining from his mouth like the last drops from a closed fountain. He looked up at the rest of his team, all four grinning like children, clearly beyond proud of their antics. He couldn’t help but feel proud of them.

“If any of you attempt that again, best believe I’m sending you straight to Strauss.” he said in a mock-serious tone. “But, I supposed that’s what I had coming for me when I lied to four very persistent behaviour analysts.”

He shuffled himself to standing and began to make his way to the bathroom on the jet.

“Oh, and by the way. I’ve seen the way Morgan reacts when Garcia gets too close to his neck.” Hotch grinned. “Thought the three of you should know this!”

As he disappeared into the bathroom, all he heard was a “FUCK YOU, HOTCH!” and an “EMILY, DON’T YOU DARE!” before the sounds of Morgan’s muffled cackles filled the plane. Hotch smiled. He had gotten his fill of the playfulness, but he knew his team needed more than him. They were young, they were so smart and so good at their jobs, and if this was the way they unwound and found joy then Hotch could do nothing but encourage it.

[bloogers-boogers]

THIS. I’m glad you’re feeling more free to discover new things about yourself! It feels nice to have control of your own path without someone dragging you to theirs. I discovered a lot of things about myself that I never consider having, happening or experiencing when I decided to stop listening. However I’m lucky I was never forced to be religious I was lightly encouraged to follow one if I wanted to however I was never put in schools or forced to go to church. It was all willingly, there was a point in my life that I went leaping into different religions (to find some sorta place to belong to, to feel understood?) until I felt comfortable in one (christianity) but as much as I felt comfortable in the church I was at, I never felt connected to the words of the bible. Or the belief of a god. But they’re moments I do question it, from the religions I’ve been, there certain things I kept following without much of a care. Just cause it doesn’t hurt to believe in something if it gives a good message? Makes you do good. This is the idea I followed most of my life when it came to religion. I may have a hard time believing in whats shared from different beliefs but I do believe in good faith. I no longer follow a religion however if I’m asked I would simply answer that I haven’t been connected to god in a while. Im not saying I stopped believing but im also saying im not really interested in talking about it. But that doesn’t stop that I was surrounded by people with conservatives views and opinions that affected the way I thought as a child. A reason to why im also careful in how I say I don’t believe in religion, MAYBE a god, but not religion. They’re people who’ll force it to you with corrupted ideals,beliefs or whatever (like fucked up people) which entirely goes against the whole message of god. Who are we to judge someone based on their race, gender or sexuality. If god were real I doubt he’d care, he loves all his children. Base on the church i was at I was told you’re only ready to be forgiven if you’re ready to accept god into your heart. Nothing else. I wasn’t pushed to accept him, to be there or to follow a way some pastor declare were the right things to do. There was no rules but to respect others, be kind, and spread the word of god to anyone who needed it. Everyone was welcomed there. The moment they changed pastor I immediately felt a different vibe from the previous, I felt pressured to speak about the lessons we were being taught about and I didn’t like how he’d preached. I wasn’t comfortable. It felt forceful. Religion felt like a joke and god felt so far away from me. So I bailed, I was already distancing myself from that church because of other problems and this just made it easier for me to leave.

And now I just follow what my heart wants to believe! I believe in whatever the afterlife takes me to, in the meantime I enjoy what life offers me. Or at-least try to. The moment someone uses god as an excuse to be an asshole I cringe so hard because fuck no. Those are beliefs from man, not god.

So yeah, I don’t care if it’s a sin to obsess about fictional characters (nswf drawings, smut fics, sexualizing a character, fantasying about said character, etc), not following a religion, to explore myself, be queer! Have no idea what the hell am I in gender terms. Call me weird, tell me I’m going to hell! I don’t care, it won’t change how I think or see the world. I feel comfortable in how things are currently within my thoughts of faith. That’s what matters.

I’m happy that you’re in better more comfortable place ❤️ sorry for the long ranting! I didn’t think I’d fall back into talking about my religion problem

Adamsapple has made more comfortable in exploring sex topics, be more comfortable in my body (explore it further), being more open to showing off some of my skin, not feeling ashamed in feeling sexy or wanting to, but also like made me more comfortable in drawing sex. Something I thought I’d never stop feeling ashamed or embarrassed on doing. If this ship has damaged my brain it also damaged my insecurities and conservative beliefs taught as a child that have only brought me unhappiness, shame and anxiety. I love you Lucifer and Adam 🥺❤️

[devotion-disorder]

re: elves and other non-human races having a fetishized view of humans - it makes me think of how in many fantasy settings humans are the only race able to interbreed with the other races, or are always the most common in interspecies pairings 🤔 Can see how being very attractive/attracted to other species could becomes a stereotype for humans, or a defining trait like intellect for elves, strength for orc/demons, senses for beastfolk...

Classic fantasy rules typically have 'versatility/adaptability' as a human's special trait, but there's a better case for breedability methinks, if only unofficially 🤭

omg nonnie youve literally put it in better words than i can ever come up with. I havent been able to shake off the idea that humans would be seen as the sort of “blank-slate” species in a fantasy settings either; but ive also thought of framing it in a way that it is this exact…plainness? that makes humans stand out to some. if i were to push it further (and disregard all semblance of biological reasoning) perhaps humans are sought after because their weaker gene expressions will always give way to potent non-human genes, and halflings bear little to no sign of their human blood (at least on surface) - meaning that if all else fails, humans would be perfect vessels with great success for breed-ability...im not sure if im making any sense at all LOL but this is just a long-winded way to say humans are the superstar interbreeding extraordinaires with a 120% success rate!!!! which make them magnets to nefarious horny non-human/monster folk that need to get their shit ROCKED

[icewindandboringhorror]

What would you choose? :0c

(note: original image is from HERE (link) - but I edited it to add a wider variety of options.. also added $3 extra to the total, even though I know that makes it more uneven lol, I thought if you're adding 10 whole extra items, the money to spend should at least be increased slightly, if that makes sense..)

[guinevereslancelot]

starting to kind of date someone right before christmas is so stressful fr. do i get him a gift or what we've been on two dates but i'm seeing him tonight n it's christmas eve.....but what if he didn't get me anything then it will be weird.....

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner