#classic score attack

[smbhax]

Playing Classic Score Attack mode in Tetris Effect: Connected on PS4.

Well, I guess I got a new tiny high score, 67652 pts. 'p'

Zoomed the view in and realized the gosh darned blocks are blurry. Blurry 2D in new games has become my biggest pet peeve of late! There was that blurry Shanghai game, a blurring of some of the game with a certain setting in Zachtronics Solitaire Collection--and now someone had the gall to make a blurry Tetris game!!! RAWHWHGAHGHA

[b-blushes]

💀 why

💀 why

this was going to be a longer post but actually it's fine like that i think.

ANYWAY I'M GONNA TURN THIS DAY AROUND (it is. 8:55am) AND HAVE A GLORIOUS SATURDAY

[madridfangirl]

I'm taking you home NOW!

(Part 2 of the one-shot. On popular demand. Part one here. This is SMUT.)

Summary: Jude sees his girlfriend at a club, tries to control himself as he watches her have the time of her life, but ultimately decides to take the matter in his own hands. What happens when he finally gets his hands on her?

Inspired from an anon request.

She hung up. Jude couldn’t believe she hung up on him.

He stared at his phone, then at her through the glass, then back at his phone.

Boy, was he going to make her pay.

Ananya realised that wasn’t a very smart move but he had completely thrown her off-guard. Between fight or flight, her instincts went with the latter. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked back to her table, the intensity burning her skin even through the distance and glass divider. She didn’t dare to look in that direction and sat down with her back to him.

Jude stayed there for a few seconds, half-inclined to walk down there right now and make good on his threat. But if he did that, sex would be off the table tonight. His parents / team would get a heart attack from the scandal he would have caused. And Ananya - oh she would strangulate him with her bare tiny hands.

Grudgingly, he dragged himself back to his teammates. Brahim elbowed him as soon as he sat down, telling him he was being too plain. Just that, the rest of the guys were pissed drunk already and hadn’t noticed. Jude couldn’t get himself to care. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Ananya knew he wouldn’t just let it go. And she was proven right 5 mins later when her phone buzzed. 

It was a picture with him, Cama, Vini and three waitresses. Two of them were on either side of Jude, their arms around his back and his around theirs. Both leaning against him, a little too close, looking all giddy and infatuated. The typical reaction he invoked in girls.

She started at her screen, open-mouthed, at his obvious attempt to rile her up. No, she won’t give him the satisfaction. She watched her tone carefully before texting him back.

Ananya: ??

Jude: Sent by mistake. Was sending to one of the girls.

Please, like she was born yesterday.

Jude: They didn’t have their phone on them so I took from mine & sending over. To the one on my right.

So, Jude had her number and she had Jude’s. 

Ananya: How sweet.

The girl was pretty. A classic petite, sexy Spanish brunette. A high-end waitress for the VIP section of one of the most posh clubs in Madrid. In her tight-fitted top & mini-skirt. Ananya knew from first-hand experience how Jude had a fetish for such uniforms. 

Jude: Yeah she’s over the moon. Thanking me non-stop.

She groaned. The boy was smart, talking in insinuations so she couldn’t hold anything over his head. So he doesn’t lose the moral high-ground he had right now. So he could always say later ‘oh it was just a nice thing I did for my fans.’ 

The fucker. The absolute shrewd twat. 

It had taken him all of 5 mins to swing this. The girl was probably touching his arm right now, trying to get his attention in her barely there attire. Batting her lashes, smiling extra hard. Reserving special service for him. Ready to drop her knickers at his one look. 

Her friend probably wanted to join in too. Both in a frenzy over how sweet he was being. Trying to score with the hottest property in football right now (literally & figuratively), who was drunk (ergo unreserved) and looked like an absolute meal tonight. 

This happened all too often with him. Offers for quickies in washrooms / hook-ups / one-night stands tended to pour in for him freely. Jude would tell her every time someone hit on him so explicitly or proposition him so openly. It was an unspoken understanding between them, something that gave her comfort.

Usually, he would nip these things in the bud, not providing any encouragement. But tonight, would he indulge a bit? To get back at her for her supposed flirting?

She hadn’t flirted, she hadn’t. She just smiled a bit cheesily at the bartender and chatted him up so she could get her drinks faster. That’s it. That wasn’t flirting, right?

Jude would vehemently disagree. But fuck him. 

And fuck the fact that he knew her so well. He knew what this photo would do to her. The exact things running through her mind. How she would notice that his hands were on their waist, not their shoulders which was his usual with other girls. How she’d be able to tell that the girls were trying to throw themselves at him. 

And it had taken him less than 5 mins to orchestrate this. Such was his charm.

The bastard. She hated his guts right now.

He wanted every single one of these 30 mins to be a torture for her. Not letting her have the win. And he was succeeding. In her heart, she knew he wouldn’t cross the line, she trusted him. But there was a grey area that existed between nonchalance and crossing the line. And Jude being Jude was obviously well aware of that grey area of ‘humouring someone’ or ‘harmless flirting.’

If she was making him wait, then he wanted to make sure she feels the pinch of it too. To the point where SHE suggests to call it a night sooner. How sweet a win that would be for him, he’d forever throw that in her face.

No. Whatever happens, she won’t succumb to such lows. Even the great, most desirable Jude Bellingham would have to wait once in a while. Even if it was killing her from the inside.

Ananya: Careful, unless you wanna sleep on the couch tonight.

Jude: Neither of us are sleeping tonight.

She hated the shiver that ran down her spine. She hated the power he had over her, making her tremble just with his words.

In need of some liquid courage, Ananya downed three more shots of tequila quickly. That, and the lack of food during the night, hit her straight in the head. She went to the washroom to fix her look, re-applying the makeup.

It was almost time. To walk into the lion’s den. A pissed-off predator on edge. At least that’s what it felt like as she somehow found the way to the back-door of the VIP section.

When she saw his car, she froze. Not knowing what to expect tonight. He’d always been possessive & dominant, but tonight he felt unhinged. Like some switch had flipped in his head. 

When she didn’t move for a few more seconds, her phone started ringing. She didn’t bother looking, she knew it was him. Growing impatient. Wanting her to move her butt. As if he was the king of the world.

Cocky, entitled prick.

Half-pissed and full drunk, she marched to the car. As soon as she got into the back-seat, she turned towards him.

‘Just you? Thought your admirers would join you.’

Jude scoffed, looking at her like she had let his childhood pup run to the road and get hit by a car.

‘Look who’s talking.’

Their eyes locked in a fiery staring contest.

‘YOU SENT ME A FUCKING PHOTO YOU JERK.’

‘You started it.’

The fact that he was able to keep his head and speak with an even tone pissed her off further.

‘I started it? I STARTED IT? OH YOU LITTLE…’

A timid uncomfortable clearing of throat from the front seat broke her out of her rage. Poor Agnes wanted to be invisible in that moment.

‘Ummm, sorry but shall we get going? The security is signalling us to clear the lane.’

Jude recovered quickly while Ananya sat numb. Having completely forgotten about the sweet chauffeur’s existence. Someone she had grown fond of. Someone her uncle’s age maybe. Someone she respected. And she just made a scene in front of him. Horrified, she sunk into her seat.

‘Yes please. Take us home.’

‘Sure thing.’

His place was a short 15 min away. Especially at this hour of the night.

She was determined to let these minutes pass without any other incident. But Jude had other plans.

He took off his jacket and threw it over her, covering her waist and legs. Before she could tell him she wasn’t cold or anything, his hand found its way under the jacket to her thigh, lifting her dress up, grabbing her bare skin.

She gaped at him in shock, but he looked straight ahead, completely nonchalant. 

The pressure of his hand increased. She bit her lip to muffle her gasp, trying to push his hand away but Jude stayed firm. She tried again but he gripped her harder, showing her how it will play out if she struggles more.

She couldn’t push him away with more force. She couldn’t call him out verbally. She couldn’t throw the jacket away while his hand was there. With Agnes sitting ahead, all these would create such a scandal in her head that it would take forever to recover from the embarrassment.

And Jude knew that. He knew she didn’t have an escape, and he pounced on the opportunity.

His hand travelled further up, brushing against her core. Her shocked whimper didn’t go unnoticed this time, and Ananya tried to cover it up by pretend cough.

‘Would you like some water?’

Agnes passed over a bottle to her, which she took gratefully. While Jude suppressed a smirk building at the corner of his lips. How she wanted to slap that pretty face right now.

While she sipped the water, his fingers brushed against her again, and some water spilled out. A trail of droplets went down her lips, via her long neck, soaking her cleavage, disappearing into her strapless dress. Drawing Jude’s attention. He stared at her wet, smooth, glistening skin and cursed inwardly when she wiped off the spilled water with her hand, missing his thirsty look altogether.

His hand assaulted her sensitive skin with more intent, alternating between her thigh and her core. Feeling how wetness started to pool between her legs. 

Helpless, she looked out of the window. Hoping for the universe to swallow her whole. Biting her hand / wrist to mask her whimpers. Feeling a strange mix of anger, frustration & arousal. All feelings accentuated due to her drunken state. He was stroking the fight away from her, one touch at a time. Every move calculated to turn her into a whiny hot mess. Needy, pliant and ready for him.

She hated him for putting her in this vulnerable position. But her body was responding to the thrill of it. Jude was the king of spontaneity and adventure, never a dull moment with him.

Finally, they reached home. The ride felt like 3 hours to her, but it had only been 12 mins.

‘Thanks Agnes. You can leave the car here.’

The middle-aged man turned towards his boss, confused. The car was in the open driveway, not in the covered garage where he usually parked.

‘It might rain tonight. And the dust…’

‘It’s alright. See you tomorrow. Good night.’

‘Good night to you too.’

A very confused Agnes got out of the car, as his passengers remained in the back seat.

Ananya knew where this was going. Doing it in the car was one of Jude’s fetishes too. He would have preferred an open road if he wasn’t who he was. She was just thankful he waited for Agnes to be out of hearing distance.

As soon as Jude saw the compound gate click shut, he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his lap, making her straddle him. Her dress inched further up by the position, pooling at her waist, revealing her matching red lace panties. Jude traced the border of the flimsy garment with his index finger, losing his focus for a few seconds, while she tried to gauge his mood by studying his face.

She was still mad at him but darn it she also needed him now. His expert fingers had worked their magic as usual. And her drunken state was making her needy. She liked to be taken softly & slowly after being buzzed. While that wasn’t gonna happen tonight, given the mood he was in, but maybe she could find a middle ground.

Ananya leaned forward, trying to kiss his lips, but he grabbed the back of her head, keeping her in place. Staring at her with a ferocious intensity. Like he wanted to eat her alive.

‘You had your fun tonight.’

Being the sole object of his undivided, obsessive attention was also intoxicating in its own way. There were surely worse things in the world than Jude Bellingham wanting to fuck you anytime he wanted.

And she needed him to get on with it, preferably not too roughly.

‘Yes, with my friends.’

Her tone was soft and assuaging. She moved in his lap, trying to rub herself against his crotch, but he grabbed her hips too, not letting her dictate the terms.

‘Not JUST with your friends.’

The image of the bartender and those ugly, sweaty guys trying to dance with her was still fresh in his mind.

Arguing that point would be useless, so she changed tact, keeping her tone sensuous.

‘Does it matter? I was always going to come home to you.’

He scoffed, incredulously. 

‘YOU REFUSED ME. I NEEDED you and you REFUSED ME.’

He was painfully half-hard most of the night, all because of her. And she had refused to take care of his need.

‘Didn’t refuse you baby, just asked for a bit more time with my friends.’

‘Yeah right.'

Despite her horniness, his petulant tone was starting to set her off. Here she was trying to be the adult, to let bygones be bygones, but he was stuck on being petty. 

‘What are you implying exactly?’

‘That you FLIRTED with that asshole, you KNEW what you were doing. And then you picked your friends OVER ME.’

He was probably right about the flirting bit. In a rational state she may have conceded this. But rationality had gone out of the window at his entitled cribbing.

‘Yeah, and what about what you did, huh?’

She grabbed the collar of his shirt, both to shake him and to steady herself.

‘I got one night in weeks, WEEKS, to get out of work early and have fun with my friends. But you wanted me to drop EVERYTHING and run to you at your first command? To be at your beck and call all the time? I don’t deserve one night off?’

‘All the time? ALL THE TIME? We have barely….’

‘SHUT UP.’

She yelled like she meant it, shushing him up for good.

‘And you had the audacity to send me THAT photo? Fuck that, you had the audacity to TAKE THAT PHOTO? What did you do to make them so giddy, huh? Smiled at them? Paid some compliments? Let your gaze linger? Brushed your fingers against their hand? What did you fucking do in those 5 mins that they were FALLING ALL OVER YOU?’

Jude leaned back against the seat. Smug, proud, making no effort to hide the sentiment.

That egotistical dickhead.

‘Who says I did anything?’

‘I’ll fucking slap you I swear. TELL ME.’

Jude eyed her, calculating his next move, choosing his words carefully.

‘Just said I liked what they were wearing.’

She shook him by his collar. Hard.

Jude loved it when she was all pliant and needy. But he loved it even more when she was this feisty & lippy with him.

The image of him complimenting them and them turning into mush on the spot made her want to puke. 

Enraged, Ananya moved to smack him on his chest but he grabbed her wrists, hard enough so she feels the sting.

Another defiant staring contest ensued, as she struggled to get off his lap, failing miserably, her movement making his blood rush south.

Defeated and pissed off, she reverted to a verbal retort.

‘Maybe I should call that bartender and say that to him too, yeah? He did give me his number after all.’

He hadn’t. Well, he was about to do that but she cut him off at the right time. To hell with facts though.

Jude stilled, then turned the full force of his glare at her, face heating up with ire at her words. 

She tried to meet his eyes head on, but it was like staring into the sun. It burned her, and she flinched, looking away to shield herself.

He locked her arms behind her back, tightening his grip on her wrists, his hot & heavy breath causing goosebumps on her face. 

She thanked her stars for not mentioning Arjun instead of the bartender, an option she had considered briefly. God knows how nuclear he would have gone then. Would have probably kept her locked in his room, tied to his bed for weeks on end.

‘He did what?’

His voice was low & threatening, somehow a lot more sinister than when it was raised. She felt its effect straight between her legs.

‘Answer me, sweetness.’

Oh, the bite in that suppose endearment. She shuddered involuntarily. But she was too far in to back out now.

‘I…I wasn’t gonna do anything about it.’

‘Immaterial, darling. You let him think he had a shot, yeah? That he could take you home tonight, or to his car, or a quickie in the loo. Correct?’

She shook her head from side to side in a no, unable to find the right words to respond. 

‘No? So when you were bending over the counter, giving him a view of this…’

He grabbed a breast harshly, making her gasp.

‘….was it to tell him that you were taken?’

She whined loudly under his touch.

‘Jude c’monnn I….’

‘Quiet.’

She hated herself for complying immediately. Like an obedient pet. 

The temperature around them was both burning hot and ice cold at the same time. Silence hung heavy in the air, only the sound of heavy breaths breaking through. 

And then, she heard the unlocking of his belt buckle.

Her eyes went to his waist, as he slowly took off his belt. What he did next made her throat go dry.

Jude tied her hands behind her back with his belt, in a tight grip, while she was still straddling him. His eyes boring a hole through her shaking body.

‘Someone needs to learn how to behave. And a reminder of who she belongs to.’

She wished he would go back to his frenzied ire. Because whatever it is he was doing right now with his chilly even tone was a thousand times more unnerving. She had never seen him like that before. 

‘This dress……was to be worn for me. But now, you’ve ruined it.’

She guessed his next move, but before she could utter a word in protest, strong hands ripped through her dress. Forcefully and mercilessly. Like that garment had personally offended him somehow. 

Ananya saw the remnants fall over the floor of the car in a pile, swiftly followed by her lace panties. It was a shame; she really liked both of those. He had bought them both for her.

Jude looked at her now naked form, while she still hid from his gaze.

He tapped on her lips with two fingers, gently. Then shoved them inside. Spreading her legs with his other hand, he shoved two fingers inside her wet, tight, leaking heat. Then latched on to a nipple with his teeth. Her resulting cries were muffled with his fingers in her mouth.

She was helpless, unable to do anything but to let him have his way. Whining & moaning through it all.

Jude’s hands worked at fast pace, sending her into an overdrive. Then, he switched both hands, making her taste herself on his fingers. As his mouth paid equal attention to both nipples. 

She shuddered violently when his thumb found her clit, as his fingers scissored her mercilessly. And she came on his fingers while screaming his name, falling over his chest, as he made her suck the fingers clean.

Jude gave her precisely 10 seconds to catch her breath, while he unzipped his trousers.

Immediately after, she found herself being brought down over his rock-hard dick, whimpering all the way through. As always, she struggled to take him all in, especially with this angle, and he revelled in the sight, getting extra hard by it, finally nudging his way in.

She had never been rendered this helpless before. Her legs were cramping and her arms were immobile as he bounced her up and down relentlessly, like a maniac. The overstimulation making her eyes water.

His mouth travelled through her torso, leaving angry marks on her sensitive skin. It was pointless asking him to go easy so she didn’t even try.

But when his thumb found her clit again, forcing her towards another orgasm while he was still nowhere near his, she begged him to slow it down. He went just a tad slower, just to humour her but the pressure made her head spin. He was playing her body like a pro, applying just the right pressure at all her sensitive spots together, wrecking her completely. While she was just a helpless doll in his lap.

Jude looked at her bouncing body, swollen & sweaty with his attention, just how it should be. Instead of slowing it down, he increased his pace. And the pressure of his fingers and teeth.

Ananya cried out in painful pleasure. 

She knew what he wanted. She had been fighting hard not to give him the satisfaction. But she was close to shattering again. And he would keep going like a madman till he extracted what he wanted from her. He’d somehow push out his own release and she was nearing the brink of passing out from overstimulation. 

After a long time, she looked straight into his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry?’

‘Yeah, what for?’

‘FOR EVERYTHING.’

She cried out with an extra hard thrust.

‘More specific.’

He wouldn’t let go, not even now, not when he had her completely at his mercy, not when she was meeting him 80% of the way. 

‘For….the bartender…the waiting…the dancing…the fighting…..the dress…..the bra…just…..please Jude.’

Her helpless moaning of his name and the sheer submission of her body did the trick. 

Jude undid her wrists, and brought them around his neck, stroking the bruised areas softly.

She sought out his lips for comfort and he kissed her back slowly, while still bouncing her rhythmically on top of him. Sweaty limbs intertwined. 

Their lips found their familiar motions as her nails dug into his shoulders. He sighed at the sensation. Both nearing their peaks.

‘Dove?’

Her heart swelled at the fondness in his tone and the use of her nickname.

‘Yeah baby?’

Their eyes met. How she could just drown in those honeyed orbs and never come back for air. What a sweet demise that would be.

‘Nothing happened with those girls. I didn’t want them.’

Her heart threatened to leap out of her chest now. And her tears spilled for a different reason. He kissed them away, peppering her face with kisses.

‘I know baby. I know.’

She hugged him tightly, as he rocked them both to their pleasures, coming down from their highs while still clinging to each other.

A few minutes later, he unwrapped her from around himself, covered her in his jacket, and carefully picked her up to carry her to bed, tucking her in.

As he slid under the covers and came to hold her, she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

Confused, he searched her face but came up with nothing.

‘What?’

‘You need to go back to the car now.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I don’t want Agnes to find my torn clothes tomorrow.’

‘I’ll do it in the morning.’

‘We might end up sleeping late and he comes in early.’

‘You want me to go down right now?’

‘Won’t you? For me?’

‘Fine. Whatever.’

She smiled as he stomped his feet all the way down to the car, making his displeasure known, but still keeping her wish.

..........................................................

There you go.

I had no plans for Part 2 but your enthusiasm made it happen.

Let me know your thoughts / comments :)

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all ��uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[noneorother]

All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part2*

The Bonkers Meta Series 2: Electric Boogaloo. This week on the chopping block: The official Good Omens 2 soundtrack album!

Part 1  l  Part 2  

If you, like me, have absolutely no respect for your time (or your 2023 Spotify Wrapped) and are willing to sit with the show and the David Arnold score album running side by side to match up all the songs, then you too can find out what I did: exactly 6 songs in the album go off the rails in the show in a very specific way. And you know what they say about a song…

So let’s break these misbehaving songs down, shall we? 

A Bell Tolls for Thee

There are SO MANY DAMN BELLS in season 2. I think the sound department might have had a competition going. But I want to show you the bells that happen in the music of the show, but not in the album.

Specifically, there are tubular bells all over the score in David Arnold’s orchestration in season 2 (and some in season 1). It’s an instrument used throughout classical music to represent grandfather clocks or church bells, signalling time passing, like striking the hour. But, this season has done something devious: it sets up your expectation by putting tubular bells in all the regular places in the score, so that you notice less when they whack a big tubular bell ring in a place where it should not be, at a key moment in the story. 

Feel free to go back and listen to these time codes in the show, it’s going to become obvious real fast.  

S2E1 - 14:55 l Song : Into Soho Aziraphale answers the door to a naked Gabriel, and recognizes him for the first time. A bell rings once.

If you listen closely to the album version, David Arnold recorded a beautiful and uplifting ending to this track. Too bad we never get to hear it in the show, it splits off into a bell toll and then a reorchestration. We never hear the end!

S2E1 - 42:30 l Song : Tiny Miracle Aziraphale & Crowley perform a class-A miracle, and Crowley pokes the barrier with his finger. A bell rings twice.

Same thing for Tiny Miracle! The ending of the song in the album we never get to hear in the show, it gets interrupted by 2 tubular bell tolls and another reorchestration of other music. 

S2E3 - 33:59 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Aziraphale considers the statue of Gabriel in his present day trip to Edinburgh. A bell rings three times.

This one starts from silence with 3 bell tolls as a reprise of “Something terrible” starts just after it. The second and third bells are woven into the music on beats they never appear in those bars on the recording. 

S2E4 - 38:00 l Song : Zombie Dressing Room  Shax asks Beelzebub for permission to attack the bookshop. A bell rings four times.

This one is extra weird (see my first music post). Even though we stretch out Zombie Dressing Room way after the dressing room scene is over and into the Shax in hell scene, it still manages to work in 4 new tubular bell rings that aren’t there in the score, and we never hear the same ending as on the album. 

S2E5 - 00:05 - 10:14 l Song : Reprise - Something Terrible Shax requisitions troops and gathers her legion. A bell rings five times.

This one is tricky because Shax’s scene in hell is cut up 5 times, but you probably see where this is going: every time we cut back to Shax there’s a new bell rings once that wasn’t in the recording.  

S2E5 - 29:56 l Song : Shax Shax arrives from Hell in the elevbator to attack the bookshop. A bell rings six times.

This is the last time in the season when we hear extra tubular bells. In a pretty bizarre turn of events, the demons Shax has mustered have walked in from down the street, but Shax takes the elevator to arrive at the bookshop. What a way to treat your troops. In any case, we get a final song that doesn’t get the ending it deserves, and gets cut off in favour of a reprise.

Taco Bell: Live Confused So why put so much effort into signalling these 6 specific actions with bell tolls? The first three are clearly Aziraphale & Crowley related, while the second three are Shax related. (All the Shax actions accompanied by bells have flashing lights above Shax.) Could this be a way of signalling we are halfway to the second coming, 6 hours until midnight on the armageddon clock? Or something else entirely?

Every time we hear the added bells, the soundtrack in the show deviates from the planned endings written for the album. Are these mistakes in the timeline, that were never supposed to happen in the ineffable plan? I guess we'll all be listening together for tubular bells in season 3... -------------------------------- Thanks to @embracing-the-ineffable for the encouragement, and the Ineffable detective agency for all their hard work. Part 1 is here!

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Maybe dc×dp Jazz×Jason magical ceremony bullshit for soulmate friday?

"Hear-ye-hear-ye!" A glowing green man dressed in what looked like the stereotype for any comedic relief in midevial films called out as he floated above the city of Gotham, his voice projected around the world. "Her Royal Highness, Queen Regent of the Infinite Realm Throne has decided to cast the Ritual of Bindings, to draw her soulmate near in order to give DNA to help the Deaged King who has been injured and needs to be Reborn! Queen Regent Jasmine Nightengale will cast the spell in Three Scores! All those touched by Death may be called!"

Predictiably people freaked, running around screaming. Or talking about it, which was what the Justice League did right after, speaking at the table.

"Look, it's legit," John Constantine said to the others. "I've met Danny, the King, before he became deaged, and he's a good sort so is his sister. If she's calling upon the ritual... well, I honestly think she has no other choice."

"So she's going to force whoever-" Bruce said but John glared at him.

"No she ain't. Rather she'll give them a choice. It would be safer for her spouse to be her soulmate but she could find any random man to sleep with to get the DNA." he told Bruce who nodded grumpily. It appeared all they could do was wait.

After three hours, Bruce got an alert. Jason's tracker went offline. He didn't think of the Queen then, rather became worried about other things.

He should have thought of the Queen.

-0-

Jason found himself in a throne room, and reacted appropriately. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at a guy in armour. "Where the fuck am I?" he demanded.

"You are in the throne room of the Infinite Realms." a feminine voice said from behind. He turned to see a redhead behind him, dressed in a black dress. "I am Queen Regent Jasmine, and you are my soulmate."

"...Oh shit," Jason said, remembering the proclamation. He looked at the woman who looked back nervously. "This is for... the King?"

"My brother Danny is the High King. He was injured by an enemy of his, Plasimus. Vlad, our enemy, was obsessed with our mother. He wanted her but she hated him. Eventually he discovered Danny was transgender, as well as learning that Danny is like himself, what the citizens of the Infinite Realms call a halfa. Half human, half ecto being as they are called." Jasmine said in a tone that became choked as she spoke. "He attempted to claim Danny. I don't know how, he became confusing with calling my brother a son or a consort. I don't know which he meant and I don't want to know." Jasmine swallowed. "He attacked and our parents passed in the attack while Danny became injured. He needs to be Reborn, and I can provide half the DNA. I need another half."

"So... you want this a one off?" Jason asked. "Why not go out and pick up a random?"

"I don't want a one-off. I want a partnership. I want to raise my... my child with a partner. I also want him safe, and calling upon my soulmate will help." Jasmine said. Jason stared at her, wondering what to do.

He had never thought of marriage, or kids. Frankly with his life he didn't think it a reasonable thought. But here was a Queen asking him. His soulmate even.

(The part of him who loved the classics, who snuck smut novels and who had opinions on romance flicks was cooing inside of him, begging for this chance.)

Jason always did like kids...

"Alright so... what do we do?" he asked Jasmine who smiled beautifully. He wanted to put that smile on her more.

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 6

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Claudia killing in front of Madeleine (2x06)

Sensing Madeleine's fear, Claudia brutally kills a group of young Parisians who attack Madeleine one night. Madeleine finds Claudia crouched over a man, drinking his blood. While Madeleine is shocked and afraid, she remains quiet and does not run, Claudia acting calmly and gently telling Madeleine that she is a vampire. The scene is shot like a classic horror sequence, focussing on Madeleine as the dead bodies are slowly revealed to her one by one. Additionally, the scene has notable parallels to Louis's turning in 1x01, Claudia mirroring Lestat killing the priests, and Madeleine mirroring Louis when she falls to her knees. The scene mixes horror and romance to great effect and is a climactic moment in the pair's relationship that the audience has been waiting on for several episodes now. It is scored by 'The Fantasy of Happiness' by Daniel Hart, originally from Claudia's monologue at the end of 1x04. Both scenes are tensely fragile moments and highlight Claudia's growth, while still showing this sense of instability in her due to her aggressive kills. "I'm gonna clean up. And then we can talk" "You're a..." "Vampire."

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

Insecure open relationship negotiation (1x03)

Disgusted, jealous and hurt after watching Lestat flirt and presumably sleep with Antoinette Brown several years into his and Louis' relationship, Louis confronts Lestat in a rare moment of vulnerability. Lestat laughs off Louis's feelings, delighting in his jealousy, viewing it as proof of care and even love for his maker. The pair then negotiate an open relationship, Lestat claiming that it staves off the boredom that a marriage of centuries can cause. The scene is humorous as it is obvious both vampires deeply hate the idea of their partner sleeping with anyone else, Lestat seemingly going through several stages of grief as he allows this to go forward. Additionally, this moment is a very clear sign of the deterioration of their relationship, showing how both men put themselves into bad situations just to see the other hurt, in search of proof that the other cares for them. "So I can fuck whoever I want?" "Of course. Of course. Of course! As long as you come home to me. Of course!"

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

[witchofthemidlands]

i know, i know realistically that because tales of the tardis is making it's return that “the one who waits” or whatever “the big bad” is that shall be giving the doctor & UNIT grief in the finale will probably be that villain from the pyramid serial that was, in fact, the first proper classic who serial i ever saw because it was on the sarah jane adventures dvd but up until the new tales of the tardis instalment was announced, i was so deep in the theory that this is all leading up to the trickster's greatest comeback of all time: ruby is an element of the pantheon & seeing as i've clowned too close to the sun i'm unleashing the insanity that's been occurring in my brain since “the devil's chord”

so basically the doctor said 8 words about maestro & i haven't been sane since.

“that thing must be part of the pantheon”

that was it for me then, i was CONVINCED that this might be leading up to have something to do with the trickster because in “the wedding of sarah jane smith” the doctor & the trickster/the pantheon talk about how they heard about one another through legend:

& from the spreading of the salt this era of doctor who has been all about myths & legends breaking their way through into the universe & the first half of the finale is titled “the legend of ruby sunday”

THEN maestro attacked ruby & the music played from within ruby is VERY similar to the score played in “whatever happened to sarah jane smith” when sarah jane was giving maria the puzzle box which protected her (& then later alan) from the trickster's power & this was the first time the trickster ever came into the whonivese & whilst i thought i was reaching here, i was CLEARLY not the only one who thought that the score progression sounded similar.

https://youtu.be/ARVTQ91P5RE?si=_TD41qhQ_PbQ-8kp

after “the devil's chord” i didn't want to say anything because i thought i was going to sound absolutely crackers but it was simmering, the thoughts that whatever ruby is COULD be connected to the trickster or the pantheon. honestly even if it turns out to be nothing to do with the trickster themself but just another element of the pantheon that's at play & what everything is leading up to, i'd consider that a win.

the full downward spiral into madness began after i witnessed the horror that was “73 yards” which both scared me for life & after like no doctor who episode has done in a VERY long time because not only was i actually scared of ruby sunday & was thinking WHAT IS THIS BEING but it also unleashed this:

deep down, my rational brain KNOWS it's not what my unhinged brain thought it were but in fact what it literally was which was a story filled with elements of welsh folklore BUT my brain said:

to my brain, “73 yards” reminded me of the doctor in “turn left” saying:

and whilst i was in my post 73 yards state of horror/being genuinely afraid of what ruby was there's was two options my brain was throwing out:

1) ruby could be one of the pantheon/the trickster’s brigade she's one of the changelings like the time beetle because life WAS changed in tiny little ways & this was literally probably one of ruby's worst case scenario: that everyone would leave & she'd be alone all her life & her fears manifested in her potential trickster/changeling power & made a whole new reality for her that she enabled herself to stop. it was all just her & the extent of her powers which could be used for very bad.

2) and this is the one that i latched onto like a person deranged:

ruby is a creation of the trickster, the trickster is “the one who waits” because the trickster has been “waiting” for a way to break into the universe & then i just went wild with this theory of mine because of the sarah jane adventures.

in the (devastating) final season of the sarah jane adventures, sky smith was left on the doorstep of sarah jane's house when she was a baby, similarly to how ruby is left on the threshold of the church on ruby road. now that's a reach, yes but HAD the sarah jane adventures series 5 finished the way it was intended to be finished, sky smith would have turned out to be the trickster's child in an finale called “the battle of bannerman road” & her trickster powers would have been awakened by the trickster. sarah jane would apparently have been considering this to be true because she'd gotten jo jones to research “trickster myths” sky would have returned to herself but would have evolved into an entity that would banish the trickster from reality & guard him in a prison forever:

The Battle of Bannerman Road (unproduced TV story) | Tardis | Fandom

honestly i started to imagine that a similar situation could happen with ruby because this story was ultimately never made & whilst i am probably clowning to the highest degree here, i thought about jo & clyde's segment of “tales of the tardis” & how clyde's story is left open ended as if it could possibly be continued & what better way to continue clyde & rani's story then to bring them back during a potential battle with the trickster? there is also the fact that the other unnamed episodes of the sarah jane adventures WERE actually made into stories for a fantastic show called “wizards vs aliens” specifically, “the thirteenth floor”

so perhaps rtd could be using the bare bones of “the battle of bannerman road” for the conclusion to the mystery of ruby sunday.

as i said, i went rather deranged with this one & it's probably going to be the greatest comeback for sutekh, who will probably turn out to be “the one who waits” possibly the head of the pantheon & the creator of ruby but my brain has decided to throw one more twist:

✨sutekh x the trickster✨

i'm kinda glad that this will all be over soon so i can be proved wrong & can enjoy a peaceful state of mind again, finally set free from my trickster theory 😅

[milksuu]

Hii! This is my first time sending a request haha! Well, could you Heartsteel Aphelios with Reader who’s a hardcore Gamer?

(I mean, like ungodly amounts of hours on a multitude of games. Always hitting new high scores. And the classic, eyebags from lack of sleep.)

⌜heartsteel!aphelios x fem!reader⌟ ╰ ❝ YOU CAN'T WIN A GIRLFRIEND IN A 1 V 1 ! ❞

❥ prompt: Aphelios thought there wasn't a single soul in the entire universe stupid enough to challenge him to a 1v1. But apparently, the 'God of Gaming' thought to use their last brain cell to bet their final testament. Little did you know, you'd fall from grace, then forced to play in some idols sick twisted game of pay-back. ❥ content/warnings: enemies to lovers vibe, affectionate bullying, name calling, teasing, fake relationship, fluff (?), 100% emotional dmg ( + crit. bonus on reader)

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ 'GOD OF GAMING'....that's what they call you. An immortal being born to play and dominate the realm of video games in all facets. Sleep's inevitably for the weak and uncommitted. It's a mark of honor to wield dark, heavy under bags beneath your eyes, so long as it meant keeping your rightful place on the throne.

Even in the realm of FPS, no one dares contest your dominance on top of the leaderboard. It's impossible for anyone who even thinks to get more than three hours of daily sleep. Until this night, at the deathly hour of 3 A.M on a Tuesday, an unknown player sweeps in announced. First round on top was a newby flook. You were busy taking a few breaks in game to sip on your energy drink. Second time, the damn bastard is kill stealing from even your weakest team mates. Third time he makes top of the leaderboards...now that's a personal attack on your reputation.

It's not long till various social tweets race like wildfire across all media platforms. Nothing more than constant jabs and reminders of how fickle your place is in this revolving door of a world. It makes you crinkle your fifth can of gamer fuel. There's only one way to respond to this usurper trying to contest your territory.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS sits back in his chair, tapping a finger on his desk. He narrows his eyes against a blaring screen. Who even was this? He had no clue. All he can recall is playing some random game out of boredom, then a monsoon of social tweets pestering him and some other guy who likes gaming. Maybe a little too much, he suspects.

He does his own social media rummaging, scuffing at his findings. You practically live inside your room, dedicating your whole life to playing video games. Apparently, it's your entire livelihood. He doesn't envy you one bit; pity is the better word that comes to mind. Your entire aesthetic is wearing an oversized hoodie that covers everything (probably your man boobs), and even your face. Except for your eyes. Holy hell, those eyebags were heavier than Sett's banana hammock on a hot summer's day.

Lazily, he opens up his calendar; checking event dates, rehearsal dates, fan meet dates. Tomorrow's his only free day for the week. Luckily for you, that's the one day you demanded from him. And of course some holed-up undesirable would ask another guy to challenge him at a internet cafe. No big deal. He'd set aside a few minutes to put you in your place. Then, completely forget about your entire existence the next day.

Aphelios accepts the challenge and locks in the date. When the day of divine retribution comes, he shows up twenty-minutes before hand. He purposely waits in front of the internet cafe you chose. Only to enjoy the sight of watching some idiot (you) sweating in a hoodie, barely able to catch your breath before you stood at his feet. Oddly enough, something different turns the corner. Eye-catching, even.

"Hey. Looks like you didn't chicken out on me," you comment, brushing away your done up hair from your shoulder. "Guess I'll give you kudos for that."

Aphelios does a double-take, trying to process the image of you online to what's standing in front of him. From his perspective, you look every bit of a model that just stepped out of a photo shoot. Where did those bags go? Man boobs? No, girl boobs? Was being reversed cat-fished a thing?

(Imagine the power of a whole eight hours of sleep and wardrobe change)

You quirk a brow at his silent, mile-long stare. "Um, yeah. Let's make this quick. I have plans to go shopping after this. So I want to get this over with so I can get on with my day. Sound good to you?"

Before he can respond, you brush pass him, slipping through the doors behind. Blinking away his sense of whiplash, Aphelios follows. It's not surprising to find a group of fans swarming and buzzing around the entire place. He's still stun-locked by your unexpected appearance. Observing as you go about in graceful fashion, greeting and hugging those in support of you.

"How about we make a deal before we start," you approach him again, placing your hands hotly on your hips. "I win, and you announce on all your social media platforms that I'm the better player. And your terms?"

Aphelios pauses. He made a hasty assumption. Thinking you were some guy living like a wall rat inside his own apartment. The slight margin of error has his lips curling in the most sadistic fashion. This was going to work out much more in his favor. And there's no intention of letting you off so easily. Being an attractive girl was never a default for mercy. He pulled out his cell, and typed the following:

If I win, you have to be my girlfriend for a month.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ YOU READ the words out loud, and the whole atmosphere cuts to silence. Your mouth trembles, before you burst with laughter as does the rest of the room. Clutching your cramping stomach, you swat the air in frantic motions. "Y-You can't be serious," you say with attempts to catch your breath. "You think you're going to win? That's so funny. How embarrassing for you. To think you'd even have a single chance to date me." Calming your breaths, you send him one final death glare and spit out the word. "Delusional."

Walking to take your seat, you ignore his unfaltering gaze trailing you. There's a glint in his eyes that tells you he's enjoying whatever hamster wheel is spinning inside his head. You need to add the poor hamster is obviously sick, forced into labour and probably part of a lab experiment.

When the match starts, no one feels the need to invest too much into the game. You were, after all, the 'God of Gaming'. It wasn't going to be a fair match to begin with. Until the game ends before anyone can blink twice; especially you.

The rule to win the round was simple; land the first headshot. Needles to say, you didn't.

Your eyes widen against the screen. Your death screen pops, and your lifeless body collapses. Adding unnecessary amounts of salt in the wound, your scumbag of an opponent crouches over your head. Repeatedly. Your trembling vision shifts away, past your monitor to the opposite side. Slowly, Aphelios leans casually into view, a cocky eyebrow cinched high into his forehead.

You grit your teeth, hand tightening into fists that would mark the inside of you palms. Pestering whispers and scandalous talk rise and echo around you. There's no way to escape the shame. You bow your head in defeat. What else can you do? There wasn't any use in fighting. You have to save whatever drop of class and honor you have left. Anything out of pocket, and your whole reputation could crumble. You push yourself away from the desk, pacing to meet your bastard of an opponent on the other side.

"Good...good game," your voice strangles to leave your tight lips. You try hard not to ruin your face with a scowl. Especially when Aphelios stands pretty damn tall, staring down at you like a child that just had good a spanking. Taking out his phone, he shows you some text:

Sure. Guess you would call it a good game. And now that you're my girlfriend, it's only reasonable to go on a date with me. As my reward and all. Those were the terms. Right?

The blood inside your veins boil. You want nothing more than to slap that phone out of his hands, and crush it beneath your heels. You reserve to grinding your teeth. Aphelios merely smiles through a devilish crinkle in his blood moon eyes. And it's now dawning on you; he's made a full-proof plan to make you suffer.

From what I know, girlfriend's hold onto their boyfriends hands. And also call them 'babe' as a loving pet name. Right?

You want to scream at the top of your lungs right now. Holding your breath, you withhold it from your surrounding scrutiny. When he reaches out his hand, you take it tensely. He chuckles when your manicured nails dig aggressively into the skin of his hand.

It’s cute how badly my girlfriend wants to hold my hand. I’d be careful, though. The harder she squeezes, the more I kind of like it.

You gulp and loosen your grip. Honestly, where the hell does he get off saying stuff like that so casually? How humiliating. And it was just the start of your month of impending doom.

Like any ‘proper’ date, he drags you to one of his usual spots in town for a meal. It's odd to witness him take the lead so naturally; as if you really were his damn girlfriend. When he offers to order and pay for the both of you, you almost hesitate. However, you weren't going to turn down a free meal. Even if it came from your current worst enemy.

“Oh. Um…then I’ll have the burger. No pickles.” Aphelios sends you a yard long stare, and you know he's siphoning you for more. You blush, turning a cheek. “Please, b-babe?”

You can tell he leers underneath his mask, like a cat whose gotten his cream. He leaves you briefly, before returning and setting a tray of food in front of you. For a moment, you stare at the hamburger with warranted skepticism. You raise your pair of squinting eyes at Aphelios, whose already pulled down his mask to quietly enjoy his meal. After a beat, you lower your restraints, and slowly take a bite. You immediately stiffen and gag, spitting up into a napkin. There's definitely pickles—loads of them.

Aphelios almost chokes on his own laugher at your award winning expression of disgust. He slides his phone across the table:

Oh. Sorry. I thought you said extra pickles. ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Freaking bastard! Before you can smack his phone off the table, he snatches it back to the safety of his pocket. With a growl, you slough off the heaps and slices of fermented food. You're able to de-pickle the patty, but there's little joy in eating something with the faint essence of the nastiest condiment.

And after a not-so-enjoyable lunch, he takes you to a nearby pâtisserie for dessert. While waiting, and you have a half a mind to run out. Or call the local circus so they can come get their evil clown back. You're terrified to see what he's planning to bring you. And when he does, your mouth instantly waters. You stare down at a cute, decorative dessert parfait. It looks perfect with no hidden pickles (don't put it past him though). Your eyes glisten at the extravagant layers of yogurt, fruit compote, and whipped cream. Not to mention, the glazed whole strawberries on top, glittering with snow powder sugar. Giddy with excitement, you almost forget the silent devil sitting next to you. Before you can take the first bite, Aphelios intercepts your hand, brings it to his lips, and claims it for himself.

There's only one spoon, you know. And like any good girlfriend, it only makes sense to hand feed her boyfriend. Down to the very. last. bite.

There's a twitch in your face. You really want to dump the whole dessert pile onto his head. Unfortunately, that would be a major insult to the parfait. Exhaling your fury through your nostrils, you belly the desire to murder him with a plastic spoon. Grumbling, you perform your embarrassing 'girlfriend' duty. Nearing the end of this round of torture, he smiles—all at your expense, of course.

Wow. Am I full. Thanks for that. I'm actually feeling kind of generous from all your devoted attention. Tell you what. I'll let you have the last bite.

"Yeah, right," you snort. "Like I would ever share the same spoon with you, let alone anything you've touched on this Earth—hmph!" Before you can finish your berating monologue, Aphelios flips your hand around and slips the spoon inside your mouth.

ㅉㅉ You shouldn't talk with your mouth full. Silly. You might choke. And I rather not have that on my conscious.

You whine, trying to swallow your way through a verbal tantrum. Who knew it'd be so difficult to argue with delicious yogurt in your mouth? Still, reality settles shortly after the sweetness melts from your tongue. A certain thought springs a bitter aftertaste. For all intents and purposes, you both just shared an indirect kiss.

You smack the spoon on the table, feeling your face heat up. Yet, he's just sitting there, sly with composure. Not bothered by any of it—this sick 'fake dating' sims game. It wasn't fair. Nothing about this was fair! How many times did you have such an experience through your dating visual novel games? Too many to count. Yet, despite all those perfect moments with your various 2-D boyfriends, this fake 3-D imposter, just ruined the whole trope experience for you. There was no way you could replay those scenes and not think about your suffering today. You would damn this man to Hell again, but obviously, he enjoys vacationing there.

It was funny when you thought your gruelling date would conclude after dessert. Aphelios made sure to think of various, and random places to drag you to for no good reason. He's perfecting the art of physically and mentally exhausting you. Stroll in the park? He may or may not have put a caterpillar on your head. Watch you freak out about it, and then relish in having you beg him to help you. Lovely time window shopping at an outdoor mall? He makes sure to slip away and watch you panic trying to find him in the mass of busy bodies. Before you know where your head's at, you blink up against lit downtown buildings, store fronts and street lights.

Well, today's been fun. Just one last thing to make this date perfect. Something my girlfriend will definitely love.

An all too knowing smile creases his mask again. Taking your hand, he leads you away to the next destination in mind. With your eyes half-lidded with fatigue and feet already beaten to a pulp by your heels, you force yourself to stop caring. Like everything else, you'll just go along with it and pray it's over soon.

⌜LUV-U ♡ HOTEL⌟

Your mouth drops at the sight of a pink and flickering neon sign a few steps away. Did he really just drag you to a Love Hotel!? You swallow hard. Nevermind, you did care. You cared a lot! "This has to be a joke, right? You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to let you take me inside—"

You're cut short as you're tugged forward. Nearing the entrance, your heart pounds louder than the surrounding nightlife. Your thoughts are racing. And watching another couple walk out looking rather satisfied with their stay doesn't help your emotions at all. That is, until he casually leads you past the hotel and around the corner, where there's vending machine against the wall. He releases his hold and gestures to it.

What are you talking about? Take you inside where? And no. There's no joke about this being the best vending machine in town for canned coffee. ㅎ_ㅎ

You stare with dumbfounded horror as he purchases two cans, and places one in your stiff hands. You look down at your coffee and contemplate just about everything up till this point. How big of a mistake it was to meet someone like him. Worse yet, be at his mercy over a stupid bet you set in place...and actually lost. How did your life turn out this way? Regret and humiliation well up as tears against your eyes. You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth. With the last of your dignity on the line; you'd rather die at this point than cry in front of him.

░꒱♡‿ִ₊˚→ APHELIOS lowers his drink from his lips, watching you from the side of his lashes. Looks like you were at your limit. Maybe he went a little too far. But every bit of his ego wants to rationalize it was well deserved. A pestering knot tightens like a fist at the base of his sternum. It bothers him enough to turn his neutral expression into a frown. His gaze catches your trembling legs, and traces them all the way down to your heels. His eyes widen by a margin; it's insane to think you hadn't complained about your feet hours ago. Looks like that knot wasn't going away anytime soon.

He tosses away your cans and raises his phone:

Take off your heels.

"What?" You're at a complete loss for words. Was he now going to force you to walk barefoot on the gross streets? You shake your head. "No way. Forget it. If you want me to take them off so bad, then do it yourself—Jerk!"

Aphelios flutters his eyelids in annoyance. More so that, for a split moment, he found himself not entirely hating the insult used against him. Forgetting the stupid interruption of his brain, he bends down and starts unlacing your straps. "H-Hey, wait a second you freaking weirdo. I didn't actually mean it literally."

It doesn't take much effort to hoist you onto his back, wrap your arms around his neck, and press your thighs snug against his waist. He anticipates a spit fire reaction. To his surprise, you simply huff and puff out your cheeks, muttering another possible insult. Honestly, he was sure you would've taken this opportunity to choke him out in a headlock. (He would've done it, but glad you didn't).

With a final adjustment, he hands you his cell phone, open with the map application. It seems it takes you a moment to realize he wants you to put your address so that he can dump you back wherever you live.

"You really plan on carrying me all the way to my house?" He can't see your expression, but by delivery alone, he can hear the blush in your cheeks. After a few taps and a mutter, he gets his phone back. "You better delete my address later. Or your new name's going be 'Stalker'."

Aphelios can't help but scuff. Like he would waste any more of his free time on inflating your already big head. He wonders how you even manage to fit your head through any shirt holes.

For a short while, you don't speak. As he walks through more quieter neighborhood streets, he feels your body condense further into his back.

"Mm, you know, for a being a cold jerk...somehow, you feel super warm," you breathe sleepily against his earlobe.

After a mumble or two, you commit to a terribly sleepy idea. Closing your eyes, you place your lips against his neck. Lingering, your mouth is soft and warm against his skin. Slightly sticky from whatever lip gloss you still have left. After the longest moment of his life, you abandon your spot. But he can feel your sleep drunk smile from how close your lips still are.

"Heh, there..I already kissed you, so...now you can't make me do it later....jerk."

When you finally doze off with light breathes and snores, Aphelios comes to a complete halt. It takes a moment to process. Then, without his consent, his neutral complexion flushes bright pink. The spot where you kissed him feels like it's burning a hole straight through him, down to his thumping pulse. He exhales a hot and heavy breath. It's warm enough to puff in the night air. With a shake of his head, he finds his walking pace, continuing towards your apartment.

He refuses to let you sway him with whatever tricks and flirts you have up your sleeve. He wasn't a swoonful idiot like most. And Aphelios knows he has a whole month worth of you still left. He'd make sure you always knew who you were dealing with. And by the end of it all, he'd make sure you'd never be able to get him off your mind.

A brewing smirk lifts one corner of his lips. This game was going to be more fun than he expected. And just like every other game, he would ultimately win.

Too bad for you, he mused to himself.

an;; ahhh thank you all for all your sweet messages i've been receiving through my hiatus. really appreciate it. trying to get back in the swing of things of answering anon. reqs. and working on my cleaning lady fic as well.

ngl, i swear, i hc so hard the phel can be such a sadistic/vengful bitch hell bent ruining anyone's life. like hes so unbothered by things and keeps to himself, that the minute you try to test him in that department, yeah no, you're officially on his shit list for life. how sweet how my man can hold grudge. <3

[fairene]

what even was the austrian gp lmao ??? no one expected the last few laps 😭😭😭

IT WAS INSANE??? but i was so fucking here for it. i was honestly expecting something sort of... tragic to happen between max and lando, given the fact that they've been toe-to-toe for the past two races. it was inevitable, i think!

there were mistakes made on both driver's parts, i feel, but lando was courteous enough to give up his position when gaining an advantage, but max did not. this frustrated me, but hey-- that's racing. shit happens that is out of our control.

moreover, the final collision between the two of them was the peak of the weekend. max refusing to lay down to lando's attack is a classic max from 2021 that we haven't seen competitively in years. though i think he does need to learn from this, and the stewards can't keep simply giving him a slap on the wrist in retaliation. lando wasn't able to score points at the end, whereas max was.

but i am so thrilled for george. winning at toto's home race. he knew that something was brewing between the top two contenders, and simply let them juke it out at a distance. it was a smart play by him.

oscar's overtake of carlos was a grand watch, too, given that i am such a huge fan of him as well. it was well earned at the end, but not without the speckles of drama. it was an immaculate show, and i am so so stoked for silverstone this coming weekend.

[imagineitdearies]

Battle Log for Chapter 37/38 of Perfect Slaughter!

**Warning! Spoilers for ch37 and 38 ahead!**

If you guys haven't noticed yet what a total nerd I am, this will make it abundantly clear. I showed Cazador's monster stats a couple months ago that I homebrewed/crossed from BG3 and our classic D&D vampire, but I hope you didn't think I stopped there. If you like battle logs and getting into the nitty gritty of D&D mechanics, please enjoy this breakdown below the cut!

First, if you want to reach peak nerd about it with me, take a look at all the details for our main three! (*Note: I did mix Astarion and Tyrus's BG3 stats with a vampire spawn's ability scores, considering it's canon that Astarion lost a lot of things like strength and healing ability after being tadpoled)

Monster Stats: Cazador Szarr

Tyrus Aman'del's Character Sheet

Astarion Ancunin's Character Sheet

Or otherwise, as you look over the battle log, just keep in mind a few things:

"Legendary Actions" are special actions available to powerful monsters in 5e combat, such as vampires. Besides his normal actions, Cazador can take three legendary actions between turns, but only at the end of another creature’s turn.

Cazador has "Legendary Resistance" as well, which is simple but quite powerful: when he fails a saving throw, he can choose to succeed instead, three times per long rest.

At the top of each round, Cazador receives 10 temporary HP per ritual source.

Thanks to Magic Circle, all of Cazador's attacks are rolled with disadvantage.

In his diseased condition, Tyrus rolls with disadvantage on attacks and saving throws, and his movement speed is reduced by half.

Pre-Round

Cazador: 270 HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: 35 HP each (four) Skeletons: 27 HP each (thirteen) Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Cazador steps onto trap and speaks the words to trigger it ("Ecce Dominus!") All at once: Glyph of Warding (7th level) - 43 fire damage (succeeded saving throw, only takes 21 damage) Glyph of Warding: Magic Circle Glyph of Warding: Silence Glyph of Warding: Sunbeam - 38 radiant damage *Cazador spends his first legendary resistance to succeed saving throw, only takes 19 damage) Glyph of Warding: Phantasmal Killer (7th level) - 49 psychic damage

Round 1

Cazador: 181 HP +70 temp HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: 35 HP each Skeletons: 27 HP each Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Ritual Circle: 29 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Two unarmed strikes, 5 bludgeoning damage on second hit *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam **Fails save for Phantasmal Killer again so spends his second legendary resistance to succeed it Tyrus: Dash to Astarion *Cazador Legendary Action at the end of his turn, Bite attack for 18 total damage on ghoul Astarion: Paralyzed Ghouls collective hits: 26 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 13) Skeletons: Dash into range of battle *Cazador Legendary Action, Move without opportunity attacks Godey: 13 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6) Chatterteeth: Casts Eyebite: Frightened on Cazador

Round 2

Cazador: 183 HP +70 temp HP Tyrus: 100 HP Astarion: 115 HP Ghouls: three have 35 HP, one has 13 HP  Skeletons: 27 HP each Chatterteeth: 74 HP Godey: 74 HP

Ritual Circle: 30 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray (succeeds saving throw; takes 15) Cazador: Calls three swarms of rats (arrive in 4 rounds) *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Help action to rescue Astarion *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 21 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw 10 piercing damage; Cazador heals 21 HP Astarion: Casts Expeditious Retreat and pulls Tyrus out of radius Ghouls collective hits: 21 slashing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 10) Skeleton collective hits: 44 piercing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 22) Godey: 16 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 8) *Cazador Legendary Action, fails to Bite Godey Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 13 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 3

Cazador: 193 HP +60 temp HP Tyrus: 79 HP Astarion: 105 HP Ghouls: three have 25 HP (one dead) Skeletons: ten have 17 HP, three have 6 HP Chatterteeth: 53 HP Godey: 64 HP

Ritual Circle: 23 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: One failed unarmed attack, one failed bite  *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from the nearest spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Astarion: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 16 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 8 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Ghouls collective hits: 14 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) *Cazador Legendary Action, fails to Bite a ghoul Skeleton collective hits: 34 piercing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 17) Godey: 15 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 21 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 10), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 4

Cazador: 169 HP +40 temp HP Tyrus: 73 HP Astarion: 107 HP Ghouls: four have 17 HP, one has 9 HP (one dead) Skeletons: three have 9 HP, seven have 1 HP (three dead) Chatterteeth: 45 HP Godey: 56 HP

Ritual Circle: 26 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Two unarmed strikes, 5 bludgeoning damage on second hit *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 20 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 10 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 10 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 5 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Ghouls collective hits: 0 slashing damage Skeleton collective hits: (dead) Godey: 15 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 7) Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch (crit!) for 29 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 14), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 5

Cazador: 142 HP +20 temp HP Tyrus: 53 HP Astarion: 92 HP Ghouls: one has 2 HP (three dead) Skeletons: (all dead) Chatterteeth: 25 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 21 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray (succeeds saving throw; takes 10) Cazador: Hits magic circle barrier for 0 damage *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Tyrus: Removes the glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Bonus action takes a healing potion at Astarion’s insistence (13 HP) *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 18 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 9 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Removes the last glyphs from another spawn/ritual source *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Ghouls collective hits: 8 slashing damage (resistant; takes 4) *Cazador Legendary Action, Bites last ghoul for a total 14 damage Godey: Fails to hit Chatterteeth: Fails to hit with Chill Touch

Round 6

Cazador: 128 HP + 10 temp HP Tyrus: 57 HP Astarion: 92 HP Chatterteeth: 25 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 24 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Hits magic circle barrier for 0 damage *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Fail to bite Chatterteeth Rat swarm 2: Fail to bite Astarion Rat swarm 3: Bite Tyrus for 8 piercing damage Tyrus: Casts Message and speaks to Chatterteeth *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 18 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 9 piercing damage; Cazador heals 18 HP Astarion: Kills rat swarm 3 with 31 total damage, bonus action Bite for 7 HP healing *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 6 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 3 piercing damage; Cazador heals 6 HP Godey: 12 slashing damage on Cazador (resistant; takes 6)  Chatterteeth: Casts Chill Touch for 17 necrotic damage on Cazador (resistant, takes 8), Cazador can't regain hit points until the start of her next turn

Round 7

Cazador: 104 HP Rat swarm: two have 24 HP (one dead) Tyrus: 42 HP Astarion: 81 HP Chatterteeth: 1 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 24 radiant damage from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Arcana Check to find Sunbeam rune in the ritual circle *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Fail to bite Chatterteeth Rat swarm 2: Fail to bite Astarion Tyrus: Reanimates all thirteen skeletons with Animate Dead, 7th level *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 14 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 7 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Astarion: Kills rat swarm 2 with 28 total damage *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Skeleton collective hits: 33 piercing damage (resistant; takes 16)*Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 21 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 10 piercing damage; Cazador does not heal Godey: 0 slashing damage Chatterteeth: (dead)

Round 8

Cazador: 44 HP Rat swarm: one has 24 HP (two dead) Tyrus: 14 HP Skeletons: four have 10 HP, two have 3 HP (six dead) Astarion: 74 HP Godey: 36 HP

Ritual Circle: 22 radiant damage on Cazador from Sunbeam ray Cazador: Successfully finds Sunbeam rune in the ritual circle and removes it *Takes 20 radiant damage at start of turn because of Sunbeam Rat swarm 1: Bite Astarion for 3 piercing damage Tyrus: Reanimates six skeletons with Animate Dead, 4th level *Cazador Legendary Action, Vampiric Bat Swarm!! All take either 14 piercing damage or if they succeed the dex saving throw, 7 piercing damage; Cazador heals 14 HP (Three skeletons go down, Tyrus goes unconscious and gets thrown off the edge of the platform) Astarion: Grabs Tyrus's hands before he's too out of reach, lifts him back up from the platform *Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn due to vampiric regeneration Skeleton collective hits: 33 piercing damage on Cazador(resistant; takes 16) *Cazador drops to 0 hit points, which activates Misty Escape to his coffin

Bonus Round

Astarion: Throws Cazador out of coffin Tyrus: Uses class feature "Command Undead" on Cazador(see Tyrus character sheet or necromancy subclass for details) *Cazador fails the saving throw, but spends his last legendary resistance to succeed) --after a bit of angsty dialogue and commands-- Tyrus: Uses class feature "Command Undead" on Astarion *Astarion does not resist/chooses to automatic fail on saving throw Astarion: Slashy slashy dagger dagger!!! (All it took was 1 point of damage, Cazador had not healed yet) Tyrus & Astarion: Hug 🩵🩵🩵

[smbhax]

Tetris Effect: Connected PS4 \\ How To turn off xtra FX & play NES-style Classic Score Attack!

[lucawrites11]

Do you have any opinions on the England men's team? Always find your takes on teams interesting

it's appropriate that lionesses are the primary hunters and leaders in the wild, this is the same for england so without further ado... an analysis of the shit england team

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 THE THREE LIONS 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Okay, so what do England men need to change? Southgate. His tactics and his line-ups and how he tells his players to play are the problem. This generation of England men's players are truly a golden generation with so much talent but a complete inability to lose it on the pitch. John Stones' talent come from his ability to play centre-back like Leah Williamson and drop into the midfield to create an overload that pushes forward an attack, he does this for city but he doesn't do it for England and that's the same across the pitch.

The first thing that I think needs to happen is a change to the line-up. Southgate has identified the problem down the left. He was starting Alexander-Arnold in the left midfield who was playing consistently poorly so brought in Gallagher to replace him but he did equally as poorly. However, the problem down the left is Foden, he's playing well, but his role is a left-winger and he's not playing that role.

He drops into the central attack (to cover for Kane's drop into the midfield that covers for stones' insistence to stay back instead of dropping into the midfield) and creates chances, but this cuts off the more positive chance creation along the wide areas. Foden shouldn't come off the pitch but there needs to be a shift down the left and this should come from the line-up switching from the 4-3-3 that Southgate has been playing every match to a 4-4-2 diamond like this:

Gordon would solve the problem down the left, playing as a natural left-winger that regularly links up with Trippier at club, exploiting that link would allow for a more positive chance creation on the wings and stretch the play into both wide areas. Gordon plays classically like Lauren Hemp whereas Foden prefers to play with the freedom that is normally afforded to a player such as Lauren James because of the ability that they both have to create magical moments out of nowhere.

Furthermore, Saka has been one of the most consistent players for England down the right wing and having effective wingers creates an incredibly wide pitch to play on and gives England so much more goal-scoring potential. He plays like Beth Mead if anyone wants a Lioness reference.

Moreover, two forwards in Foden and Kane allows for more players in the box, which England has been lacking, and gives Foden and Kane the freedom that they have been craving because they can compensate for each other leaving their natural positioning. Kane has the freedom to move into a midfield role with the assurance that Foden can remain as a central target in the box. This is an issue that similarly crops up in the Lionesses with Russo's drops into the midfield however Toone can cover for her but that's not a role that Bellingham plays especially with no cover in the midfield with Stones refusing to create an overload so he can't drop forward to play it without leaving Rice isolated.

Furthermore, this allows for Gordon to be brought onto the pitch without Foden's essential creativity and magical moments being sacrificed, something that's crucial to England.

Additionally, a tactical shift needs to occur with Pickford being given the space to play his natural role as a sweeper-keeper and good on his feet much like Hannah Hampton. He needs to drop into the backline to give Stones the ability to push into the midfield and break down the low block that most opposition uses against England and create chances centrally.

Ultimately, England needs to make a lot of changes tactically and in terms of the line-ups and I think that showed in the last five minutes of the game against Slovenia, Gordon was on the five minutes and was the key players in two chances being created. He's crucial to this side and they NEED to use him, the pundits, the commentators, my mum over 100 times before, during and after the match are all begging for it. Southgate needs to use him. They also need to change their tactical instruction to the players because Pickford and Stones are being told to play how they are playing, that is not of their own volition.

The difference between England and the England men's team is a decent fucking manager. The FA needs to pull their heads out of their asses and accept the men's team can be managed by a foreigner because they aren't taking Eddie Howe from my club and the fans can't be trusted with a woman yet (the best England option is Emma Hayes fight me). English managers are shit, honestly, they should just say 'fuck it' and hire José Mourinho at this point. At least, he'd make them play like a team, ANYTHING, ANYONE would be better than Southgate at this point. It also needs to be a tournament manager so not Pep, saw someone saying Pep should be England manager and fuck off he'd be shit at it.

[madridfangirl]

I'm taking you home NOW!

Blurb from Part 2 (final part). Part one here.

Smut. Jude*female reader.

.......................................................................

She hung up. Jude couldn’t believe she hung up on him.

He stared at his phone, then at her through the glass, then back at his phone.

Boy, was he going to make her pay.

Ananya realised that wasn’t a very smart move but he had completely thrown her off-guard. Between fight or flight, her instincts went with the latter. She could feel his gaze on her as she walked back to her table, the intensity burning her skin even through the distance and glass divider. She didn’t dare to look in that direction and sat down with her back to him.

Jude stayed there for a few seconds, half-inclined to walk down there right now and make good on his threat. But if he did that, sex would be off the table tonight. His parents / team would get a heart attack from the scandal he would have caused. And Ananya - oh she would strangulate him with her bare tiny hands.

Grudgingly, he dragged himself back to his teammates. Brahim elbowed him as soon as he sat down, telling him he was being too plain. Just that, the rest of the guys were pissed drunk already and hadn’t noticed. Jude couldn’t get himself to care. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Ananya knew he wouldn’t just let it go. And she was proven right 5 mins later when her phone buzzed. 

It was a picture with him, Cama, Vini and three waitresses. Two of them were on either side of Jude, their arms around his back and his around theirs. Both leaning against him, a little too close, looking all giddy and infatuated. The typical reaction he invoked in girls.

She started at her screen, open-mouthed, at his obvious attempt to rile her up. No, she won’t give him the satisfaction. She watched her tone carefully before texting him back.

Ananya: ??

Jude: Sent by mistake. Was sending to one of the girls.

Please, like she was born yesterday.

Jude: They didn’t have their phone on them so I took from mine & sending over. To the one on my right.

So, Jude had her number and she had Jude’s. 

Ananya: How sweet.

The girl was pretty. A classic petite, sexy Spanish brunette. A high-end waitress for the VIP section of one of the most posh clubs in Madrid. In her tight-fitted top & mini-skirt. Ananya knew from first-hand experience how Jude had a fetish for such uniforms. 

Jude: Yeah she’s over the moon. Thanking me non-stop.

She groaned. The boy was smart, talking in insinuations so she couldn’t hold anything over his head. So he doesn’t lose the moral high-ground he had right now. So he could always say later ‘oh it was just a nice thing I did for my fans.’ 

The fucker. The absolute shrewd twat. 

It had taken him all of 5 mins to swing this. The girl was probably touching his arm right now, trying to get his attention in her barely there attire. Batting her lashes, smiling extra hard. Reserving special service for him. Ready to drop her knickers at his one look. 

Her friend probably wanted to join in too. Both in a frenzy over how sweet he was being. Trying to score with the hottest property in football right now (literally & figuratively), who was drunk (ergo unreserved) and looked like an absolute meal tonight. 

This happened all too often with him. Offers for quickies in washrooms / hook-ups / one-night stands tended to pour in for him freely. Jude would tell her every time someone hit on him so explicitly or proposition him so openly. It was an unspoken understanding between them, something that gave her comfort.

Usually, he would nip these things in the bud, not providing any encouragement. But tonight, would he indulge a bit? To get back at her for her supposed flirting?

..........................................................................

Here you go. Thought of dropping something before the full thing is done :)

[lazymonth]

( I have an idea and need to note this concept / AU and for some reason OTHER PEOPLE need to know it with me! )↷

✰ King candy / Turbo if he got adapt into the popular Disney Villains media ✰🍭🏎️

In this case I have two ideas and probably the only two popular Disney Villains media I know. Twisted wonderland, Descendants <-

( Also sorry for my English.. and some swear words )

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

;; I have completely retired from this fandom since 2022 and promise myself I'll never go back to it. It's all because I lost my game account in my present phone and all my progress in the game ( more than 5 SSR cards specially Idia dorm uniform and I already in Chapter 6 ) even though I still have the game and the same account in my old phone but I'm too afraid to open it.... Well, it has been a year now since I lost it and my feelings for this game are better now. But I still retired from this fandom

Ok, back to the concept. Twisted Wonderland mostly focuses on classic types of Villains but I wanna know what it would be like if one day Disney feels a little bit funny and put the modern villains in and adapt his story into this game

Just like in WIR He starts at being Turbo does something very bad and gets kicked out but comes back as King candy. So here's the idea

☆ The character lore ;

Terlos " Kingan " Candás ( Definitely quick makeup name ) or Terlos Candás was a student of Night Raven College and belonged in the Ignihyde dorm. He's a low percent of Ignihyde students who are kinda active people but Terlos not much of a good guy doing to his power-hungry personality.

Just like most Ignihyde dorm students. He has intelligence on Technology specific hacking and gaming but the thing that makes him different from other is he's a Magical Shift player too that's literally only him and his Twins friends who's playing it in this dorm

But during one of the Magical Shift Tournaments something happens. Night Raven Battle with another school and Terlos being the spotlight. Sadly the longer the game goes player from another school start to make a score more than Night Raven and steal Terlos's thunder

He's so jealous, jealous enough to attack that player with fury. The damage is more than enough to make the Tournaments stop immediately. That poor player gets sent to the hospital, sadly the damage from the magic put him in coma

from what happened Terlos got banned for playing Magical Shift forever but not only that Terlos got fired from Night Raven...

.... but he's not giving up yet. A year later Terlos disguised himself making a new identity name Kingan Candás or KC for short and this time he's getting into another school instead of Night Raven he goes to Royal Sword Academy being the fake royal among them. KC knows that RSA is a competitor with NRC so it's a chance for him to get revenge on his old school

�� In game story ;

The storyline runs pretty similar to Chapter 5 about NRC vs RSA kinda thing but this time the difference is it's Magical Shift Tournaments between these two schools and the one who cheats and Overblot.. is Kingan himself

While the tournaments are running Yuu and other characters found some suspicions on KC during the event. And at the end they found out about his true identity of him being a wolf in sheep's clothing. After that KC snapped so hard he got Overblot and it's Yuu and other characters to deal with it before the tournaments start

.... After that the headmage of both schools know they think about how to deal with KC this time. Luckily he doesn't get fired from Royal Sword but gets banned from playing Magical Shift ( again ) Being kept a special eye on by all teachers and staff in RSA to make sure he won't do anything wrong again

☆ Unique magic concept ;

" Cheat code! " This Unique magic has the ability to make Terlos see through every movement of what's going on like reading his own hands. Know what other people are going to do next, know their weakness or see them even if they're hiding behind stuff. It's like using a cheat code in video games to win

;; After listening to What's my name, Rotten to the core and It's goin' down so many times I start to have an idea. I know it sounds so crazy and literally almost impossible for King candy / Turbo because he's a game characters. But hey, if we high enough anything can be possible

Similar to Twisted Wonderland that focuses on classic types of Villains but Descendants Mosley focuses on their children instead. At this point I’ll throw a lot of " logic " things out of the window and trying my best to use my imagination to make things make sense as possible

☆ How KC got to Isle of the Lost ;

Just like other villains that they get brought back to life to be imprisoned in the Isle of the Lost. In this case is quite special than the other

After King candy-bug survive from the beacon he’s hiding for a while in Sugar Rush until he change the hiding spot to other arcade. Somehow can avoid Surge Protector and other game characters by going in time that Litwak's Arcade still open and no characters out of their game

KCB has hiding in another game for a while but that game get unplugging because of the unpopular. He thought he’s died already until… his eyes open again and found out the arcade gets transported into new places. It’s not normal an Arcade Central but it’s some places that’s dark but full of colorful lights. Dr. Facilier’s Voodoo Arcade

The arcade plug straight to the wall, limited him from leaving the game but in the same time KCB doesn’t hiding himself anymore that makes the characters in the game scared and hiding from him instead because there’s no one who can help them now. Well, that’s mean he’s kinda succeed on take over the game this time

Even the game probably doesn't work like what Dr. Facilier think but this little weird thing makes him interested and designed to still keep the arcade like this

☆ Royal child...? ;

Descendants of course focus on the villain's child so like.. what if KC has a kid? It might sound crazy and impossible but hear me out. Your question might be " who's the mom " but what if.. KCB doesn't need her?

" They don't know they're in a game. All they know is eat, kill, multiply "

This dialog from the movie gave me an idea about " multiply ". KCB of course still has a cybug code and I'm pretty sure the cybug doesn't give a F about gender so... Yah, you know what I mean gonna skip that egg laying part

Maybe there's a lucky one that hatches and being a Cybug Hybrid with flexible code makes them can transform between humans and The hybrid

Oh boi, it's getting more unreal and fictional every minute

☆ Get out of the Arcade ;

Now here's the " it's magic britch. I ain't gonna explain shit " parth

KC's child ( that I don't think about the name or gender yet ) because they also have a cybug code making them grow up fast and becoming a teenager in just a few weeks. So many days pass one of Dr. Facilier's daughter Celia finally found out about the truth why their arcade game acts weirdly. It's because the characters have their own subconscious and awareness

She tells her dad about this and bolt of them gets really excited about this information. Dr. Facilier and Celia designed to communicate with KC and his child tell them that they know about the character's awareness and don't need to hide anymore with promise they won't unplugged the game

After that both sides of them have become a friend specialty Celia and KC's child. One day Ceila designed to bring her digital friend to the real world. There's nothing magic can't do so she's looking for the magic that might take her friend out of the game

And guess what? She found the spell that can take something unreal to exist ( it's hard to explain and I have no idea what I am talking about ). As soon she cast the spell to KC's child the magic pulls their body out of the arcade. The effects of the magic giving KC's child and new body to fit in the real world while they still can transform to hybrid-cybug form ( similar to Mal turn into dragon and Uma turn into octopus mermaid )

☆ Auradon Prep ;

Celia recommended KC's child to come to Auradon Prep with her so they could study together in the same school. KC's child who already wants to go explore the outside world answering it and moving to Auradon Prep

Even that KC's child hiding their identity of the original being video games character and telling other people that they're just another person from Isle of the Lost

But sometimes they go back to the isle to meet their dad and update about the outside world

•─────────•♛•─────────•

♛ Bonus part ! ;;

In this part I'll explain about some of the references I put in and something that you guys might have a question with ;

【 Twisted Wonderland section 】↷

> Why did I put Turbo in Ignihyde?

: Turbo or King candy might sound more fit in other dorms like Heartslabyul doing to the red color ( and the fact KC have a reference design from Mad Hatter ) or even Pomefiore doing the purple color and royalty feeling. But the reason why I'm putting him in this dorm instead is because of his skill that is related to technology like video games and hacking and both of these seem like a skill that is especially on Ignihyde dorm. ( Also it's my favorite dorm too )

> The Turbo twins in this concept

: Turbo twins have a similar role like Jade and Floyd in the main game. They're both sticking around T. being a good partner but deep down they both kinda dislike T. a bit just like other people. And of course they're also in Ignihyde. This time it's kinda fit because the dorm main color is blue

> Unique magic reference

: " Cheat code! " It's a reference to konami code King candy used to entering The code space

【 Descendants section 】↷

> Why I don’t bring King candy to the real world too?

: Simple. It’s feel curse and I feel like it’s more good for KC if he still stays inside game ( Live action KCB it’s feel.. wrong to thinking )

> The timeline

: Timeline of this concept it’s between Descendants 3 to Descendants: The Rise of Red for making it kinda present as possible

¸ .　　★　° :.　 . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　☆

For who to reading it to this part I want to thank you for watching me writing about all this Concept, What if, AU kinda thing sm. It’s taking me a few days it finished it and don’t think it’ll be this long, LOL

Anyway I might drawing about both of this concept in future… If I won’t forget it first

[the-far-bright-center]

"The film’s deeply visual emphasis also plays out in linear and direct relation to the previous prequels: The Phantom Menace is characterized mostly by the warm tones of Tatooine and Naboo, with the majority of scenes occurring in bright sunlight; Attack of the Clones balances evening and late daytime scenes, its palette dominated by the steely grays and blues of Coruscant and Kamino to underline the moral relativity of its central character; finally, Revenge of the Sith plays out predominantly at dusk and at nighttime, frequently situating its characters in political chambers designed according to the film’s “evil” tones of black and red. So too does the style of composition and movement bolster the film’s tonality: even in the midst of their narrative complexities, Menace and Clones are punctuated frequently with rousing set pieces, lending the films an exciting forward momentum. Contrarily, Revenge of the Sith submerges itself in the discomforting particulars of faltering political systems and fatal misunderstandings. The aforementioned opening provides the film’s only sequence of pure “escape,” and even that sequence takes a moment to fester in Anakin’s decaying sense of morality. Much of the film devotes itself to conversations with impossibly high stakes, dialogue delivered in a kind of blunt efficiency that recalls silent cinema; the words are functional, serving only to supplant the audiovisual power on display. When characters speak, they speak broadly and dramatically, leaving no room for confusion: “You’re breaking my heart”; “from my point of view, the Jedi are evil.” The performances also frequently hearken back to older styles: when Palpatine transforms into the treacherous Emperor we remember from Jedi, actor Ian McDiarmid exudes the expressive excess of kabuki theatre, a style lent famous cinematic context by Akira Kurosawa in Throne of Blood (1958) and Ran (1985).

Given the newly expansive potential afforded by digital technology, Lucas is no longer limited to simple filmic references. In Revenge of the Sith, he boldly visualizes his interests in classical mythology and literature; to be sure, the prequels recall the tragedies of Shakespeare, perhaps most evidently in Palpatine’s similarities to Othello’s Iago. However, Lucas digs deeper and further into the past when he depicts Anakin and Obi-Wan Kenobi duelling across the volcanic vistas of Mustafar. When discussing this scene, it is crucial to acknowledge Camille Paglia’s wonderful and laudatory piece in Glittering Images. Indeed, it is in this scene that the film’s awe-striking and unprecedented anachronism totally takes over: painting his images digitally, Lucas taps into our knowledge of Dante, of the legend of Faust, the Christian Hell and the Greek Hades, of the metaphoric burning of Icarus’s wings in the form of Anakin’s smoldering body. Appropriately, John Williams’s score moves further from Korngold-echoing whimsy with each successive prequel, and in Sith it acquires operatic overtones. Never one to divide “high” art from “low,” Lucas draws from every available well of visual representation to craft this uniquely digital genre entertainment, a film that is broadly drawn in its emotional strokes but rigorous in its cinematic grammar. The starkly outlined divisions established by the five preceding films break down in the Mustafar sequence, emphasized by the combatants’ matching lightsabers. It is almost as if we are watching the mythic Star Wars world burning down, an epic downfall of elemental gestures. We can no longer perceive this man, Anakin Skywalker, as an enigmatic monster in a robotic suit; not now that we have seen him weeping with rage at the network of choices and obstacles that led him to hell. If only every myth were graced with such far-ranging moral gradients; Anakin chooses evil, because it seems to him like the only right choice at the time. Now that is tragedy."