#especially after the year we've had with them

[thanosscross]

Baby - Choi Seung- Hyun/ T.O.P x reader Part 4

Summary: The next forty eight hours would be crazy for you, between going public with your relationship with Seung Hyun, to becoming a backup dancer for Bigbang out of the blue

Warnings: Details of the reader having a panic attack

Today was a big day for not only you and Seung Hyun, but for the rest of the band as well, you and your boyfriend were finally going public with your relationship, feeling as if you were stable enough after a full year together to let everybody know.

As you looked in the mirror one last time you took a deep breath, the next time you'd leave this house you wouldn't be known as the boys's new friend, you would be known as Seung Hyun's girlfriend, even if had been official for a year, you were still nervous about the millions of people who admired your boyfriend and how they'd feel. Opening the door you jumped yelping as you were met face to face with Dae-Sung "Are you okay, dear?" He asked softly resting a hand on your shoulder "Seung Hyun is with our boss..but he wanted someone to check on you" He explained, you offered him a smile trying to shake your nerves "I'm okay, just a little nervous" You whispered trying to shake the nerves out, literally, Dae-Sung giggled at your actions, before hugging you gently "it's okay, you're our girl, we're not going to let anybody say anything negative, especially Seung Hyun" He reassured, you nodded softly, returning the hug before looking at him "So..How do I do this?" You asked tilting his head, while you modeled occassionally, you had never done a whole announcement video before, but the boys swore that their video announcing their new tour dates would be an amazing time, that way you could go with them.

"Oh! It's gonna be so easy, dear! Just follow Seung Hyun's lead, we've got it all scripted out" He smiled, leading you to the living room excitedly "Baby" Seung Hyun's voice was like a warm hug to you as soon as he called you, you approached him quickly, hugging him as tightly as you could, it had been almost a week without him while they filmed music videos, and that was hell enough for you. "Ready?" He smiled placing his hands on your hips, you nodded, before tilting your head "I still don't know what I'm doing" You giggled, hoping he'd give you some direction, but instead he just chuckled "Just look pretty for me, baby" He whispered to you as their manager held the phone starting to record "Hello! It's BigBang! We're so excited to share with you that we'll be going on tour again!" Dae-Sung cheered, Ji-yong noticed his cue furrowing his eyebrows "Top! Get over here we're recording our tour video!" He shouted before their manager turned the camera towards the both of you, you sqeaked in shock as Seung Hyun held the back of your neck, pressing his lips against yours deeply causing your cheeks to heat up rather quickly, the camera turning back to the boys quickly as they stared in 'shock' "Y/n!" They shouted before their manager gave the go-ahead that they were done recording, Seung Hyun slowly pulled away, looking you in the eyes before smiling, your face was hot with a blush that you attempted to hide with your hands.

Nobody was expecting the video to blow up as much as it did, the more surprising part was you were getting more love than hate, most of the reactions you had were about how adorable it was how flustered you got with your boyfriend, or your height difference, or the face Top was gently with grabbing you, but not so gentle with his kiss. As you sat in the airport you scrolled through you phone watching the boys and their management team talk, not wanting to be nosey you looked down to your phone again, not noticing the four boys slowly making their way to you "Y/n" "Dear" "Darling" "Baby" You heard back to back, you sighed looking up at them, unable to hide your smile "Yes?" You asked giggling, starting to feel the effects of your medication take over, it wasn't that you were high, but the longer you fought off the sleep the pills induced, the more you'd feel high, aw, the joys that come with the fear of flying while dating a K-pop idol. "One of our back-up dancers isn't going to make her flight..and since you've already been our back up dancer before for videos...we were thinkingggg" They started before all of them started to talking together "I don't care" You shrugged, not realizing in the moment you'd be on stage, in front of hundreds of thousands of the people, the boys cheered loudly before being hushed by Seung Hyun "Shhhh, public place" He reminded, helping you out of your seat to start heading towards the plane.

You slept the entire plane ride, even needing Seung Hyun's help waking off of the plane due to not being fully awake, whenever you did finally wake up, you were standing against Seung Hyun's side, his arm wrapped around you as they waited for their bags to come around the baggage claim. As everybody grabbed their bags you took notice to everybody thanking you again, why were they thanking you so much? All you did was take an amazing nap? Getting to the hotel you slowly started to realize something was agreed upon at some point seeing two different sets of costumes in your room closet. "My love?" You called out, seeing your boyfriend emerge from the connecting room "Babyy" He smiled "Are you ready for tonight?" He asked grabbing your hands gently "About that...What am I doing?" You asked before pulling your medication out of your purse waving it at him "I can't remember" You offered, he looked at you almost like he was going to get in trouble as the words now echoed in Seung Hyun's brain 'Baby, I have to take these so don't ask me to do anything, or ask me anything important'

"So..I might've forgot...and We asked you if you'd be our back up dancer, because one of ours missed her flight" He shyly recalled, you groaned letting your hand fall against his chest "Do you know how many people will see if I ruin something!?" You shouted, starting to pace, you heart hammering in your chest, you breathing started to become erratic as you tried to wrap your arms around yourself as a self-soothe tactic. "Baby, you haven't ruined anything ever" He stated trying to grasp ahold of you, but you stepped out of reach last minute "Seung Hyun! This is your guys's career!" You shouted, not noticing the three other boys slowly making their way into the room hearing your panicked shouts, you were trying to hold back sobs as you also tried to catch your breath pacing. "I-I don't even look like your back up dancers!" You added on, wiping the tears that were sitting on the curve of your top lip "I can't do that, Seung Hyun!" You gasped a bit as you slammed into his body, now suddenly standing right in your path, Seung Hyun grabbed your face, not rough enough to hurt you, but not exactly gentle either. "Y/n. You're spiraling, take a moment" He demanded, his tone stern, you took a few shaky inhales before grabbing onto his wrist tightly, desperate to get an actual breath of air rather than what you've been doing. "Keep going, you're okay" He added on, his tone still stern, but the volume of his voice was a lot softer. You hiccupped sightly finally taking a deep breath, feeling the familiar light headed fuzzy feeling throughout your body.

Seung Hyun kept ahold of your face, repositioning it to look at him "I won't force you..but I will say, You haven't and won't ruin anything, and the fact you're so quick to insult the woman I love is starting to irritate me" He said, his tone becoming harsher, you nodded slightly feeling his touch become a little more gentle than before "I just...you guys have an image with everything..and...I don't want to mess that up" You muttered, Seung Hyun sighed "Our image is just that, ours, we do what we want with it, with management approval, we want you" He stated, You nodded before hugging him tightly "Promise you'll help?" You asked, only now noticing he had started to get ready "We all promise to help" He agreed motioning to the separating door, the boys leaving the minute Seung Hyun grabbed you, not wanting to see you two fuck if you did.

The start of the show was smooth, you were remembering everything that was shoved at you in such a short amount of time, until their song Bae Bae. Halfway through you noticed you had completely forgot, you knew you couldn't run off stage, almost as soon as you realized, so did your boyfriend, making his way over before grabbing your hand pulling you forward slightly, to stand in front of him. He kept moving to the music, slowly moving your hand to rest on his neck before raising his arms up bouncing to the beat. Seung Hyun kept close to you, making sure if he was rapping his verse and had to leave your side he held your hand before handing you over to one of the other boys.

The rest of the show you kept losing yourself in thought, going on auto pilot basically as you danced, not really realizing the show was over until you were back in the dressing room "Listen Y/n the fans loved you! And I swear! Your body language with everybody was hot! You have to preform with us more!" The boys cheered following behind you, you turned around raising your eyebrows towards them "Hey! She's still my girl even if she had to dance with you" Seung Hyun reminded pulling you close "We have a small interview after this, do you want to start a shower for us?" He asked softly, pressing his lips against yours for a moment before changing into something more comfortable.

You did choose to stay back, letting the boys do their thing a few rooms away, the boys laughed as the interviewer started her next question "So! Top, Fans have seen your spicy video of you showing you're a taken man now, tell us, how did you come into contact with Model Y/n l/n?" He asked, Seung Hyun blushed brightly, Dae-sung proudly standing up "I've got this!! I'll be y/n!" He cheered before starting to spin making his way over to Seung Hyun, falling into his arm, Seung Hyun a mixture of blushing and giggles, catching his friend quickly, not wanting him to fall. "ooo You're hot!" He cheered in a high pitched voice, Seung Hyun laughed loudly shaking his head "That is not! What happened! You be me! I'll be Y/n! I'm around her the most" Seung Hyun protested, Dae-sung just laughed agreeing, the other boys laughing louder as Seung Hyun smiled giving Dae-Sung a flirty look through his eyelashes "Hi baby, I'm t.o.p" Dae-sung said, trying to mock his friend's voice, failing miserably "I'm y/n..sorry my friends are crazy and pushed me over" Seung Hyun explained, twirling his hair in his finger before laughing "and that's basically it" Ji-Yong smiled, knowing the two would continue joking if he didn't stop them, which is exactly what they did until you walked out, Seung Hyun shaking his chest gently against Dae-sung's arm laughing before making eye contact with you behind the camera. You covered your mouth, desperate not to make a sound, but you couldn't help it, seeing your boyfriend act so feminine was adorable and funny.

-

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Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

[alexihollis]

A Safe Place to Shelter

*Cleon and Swan's are bio-sisters AU, CW: implied/referenced abuse*

"Cleon. What are we doing." Cleon did not appreciate Cochise's tone of voice that second.

"We're picking up Swan from school," Cleon said, arms crossed as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the high school. Teenagers kept staring at them as they passed, but whatever.

"Uh-huh. And why couldn't Swan, I don't know, walk home? Like normal?" Cochise asked.

"She is walking home," Cleon said. "We're just walking with her."

"...Cleon." Really, the tone.

"Swan made some new friends recently," Cleon said.

"Oh, my fucking God, what are we doing?" Cochise asked. "You cannot- Swan making friends is a good thing."

"It is a good thing!"

And then Cochise was grabbing at Cleon, tugging at her arm. "We have to go. She's fifteen years old, she cannot have her big sister ambushing her in front of her friends."

"I just want to meet them!"

"Absolutely not! You are so-!"

"Cleon?" Cochise stopped tugging when they heard Swan's voice, more bemused than anything else.

Swan slowly stepped off the last step, looking between Cleon and Cochise with a bewildered smile, hands gripping her backpack. She needed new jeans, Cleon noticed, the ones she wore were too short, again. Her t-shirt was still a bit baggy, Cowgirl had given her a bunch of hand-me-downs recently, but she had figured out how to tie it in the back. Cleon could do without the bit of skin showing between the end of the tied shirt and the jeans but...whatever. Her shoes could probably last another couple months, as long as they still fit, but Cleon needed to keep an eye on that because Swan would never complain.

"What are you doing here?" Swan asked.

Cleon forced a smile, tried to look casual. "We were in the area. Figured we would walk you home."

"Oh, uh-" Swan looked over her shoulder and Cleon followed her eyes to two girls loitering on the steps.

One was significantly taller than the other, taller than Swan even, but especially next to the short girl next to her. The tall one narrowed her eyes when she saw Cleon looking, threw an arm around the smaller one, who looked at Cleon with big, seal-like eyes. Their clothes were worn, old in the way Swan's were, but the small one drowned in her clothes in a way rubber bands couldn't help, the ends of her jeans shredded even being rolled a few times.

"We were actually headed the library," Swan continued talking. "We have a group project for history."

"You need to check out books or something?" Cleon asked.

Swan shook her head. "Nah. The research is done. It was just somewhere to work."

"Why don't you bring them home? We've got a kitchen table," Cleon said. Then, louder, "It's just me and Cochise. Cowgirl won't be home until late and we're ordering pizza."

Swan gave her a look that said 'you're being weird and I don't know why' but she didn't question Cleon. "Uh. Okay? I can ask them? I guess?"

With one last weird look, Swan made her way back to the girls still on the steps.

"You need to be smart about this," Cochise whispered over Cleon's shoulder.

Cleon swallowed. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh," Cochise deadpanned. "There's already three of us in one room because the damn social worker thinks it'll scar Swan for life to share with her own sister."

Cleon winced at that memory. That realization had not been fantastic. Two people in each bedroom was one thing, but having to move into Cochise and Cowgirl's room after the social worker vetoed her and Swan sharing was another.

"Teenagers need their space," the social worker said.

Yeah. So did twenty-year-olds, but the lady could not care less. Cleon thought it was pretty hypocritical anyways, because Cleon remembered sharing many, many bedrooms during her and Swan's multi-year stint in foster care.

That was neither here nor there, though.

"Who said anything about them moving in?" Cleon whispered back at Cochise, who just rolled her eyes.

Regardless, the girls accepted and they soon found their kitchen table taken over by books and notes and paper and a giant poster board on the floor that only Rembrandt seemed to be actually working on.

"She won't let either of us touch it," Swan explained when Cleon went to ask about their division of labor. "She likes art."

"Oh, like Rembrandt," Cleon said, the nickname of the smaller girl finally clicking.

"Yes, exactly, thank you!" Rembrandt said cheerfully from her place drawing a very detailed coliseum.

"What's this project about anyway?" Cleon asked, trying to ignore the death glare the tall one - Ajax - was giving her.

"Ancient Rome," Swan flipped through her notebook. "Each group got assigned a different ancient civilization to present on."

"Oh, nice," Cleon said.

"Eh, not really," Rembrandt disagreed, though her eyes stayed on the paper. "Ajax wanted Ancient Greece."

"Rem!" Ajax hissed quietly, kicking at Rembrandt's leg.

"What, it's the truth!"

"Shut up!"

Cleon left them alone after that. She carried in the pizzas and pulled out the paper plates and red pepper flakes, but retreated with one of the boxes into the living room where Cochise waited.

"What time am I supposed to go ask if they need to call or an escort home?" Cleon whispered to Cochise as the clock ticked past nine.

Cochise raised her eyebrows and whispered back, "Why the fuck would I know?"

So that was helpful. Cleon sighed and stood up from the couch, raising her hands above her head to pop her back before making her way back to the kitchen.

"Hey," she waved a bit as she entered. Rembrandt was still on the floor, but the poster looked completed, at least. Very nicely, too, the girl had skills. "You guys almost done?"

"Pretty much," Swan flipped through some notecards in her hand. "Only need to memorize, now, but we don't need to do that together, I guess."

Cleon nodded. Ajax was glaring, again. "It's getting late. Do you girls want me to walk you home?"

"We're fine," Ajax said, challenged almost. "I'll get Rembrandt home."

Be smart about this, Cleon.

"Okay," Cleon shrugged. "You live near each other?"

Ajax scowled, but Rembrandt beat her to the punch. "We live on the same floor. We're just a few subway stops away, we'll be okay. Thanks, Cleon!"

"Good to know," Cleon smiled at Rembrandt, even as Ajax seemed ready to punch someone. "You want to take any of the pizza home? We're never gonna finish all that."

Yeah. They would. They could easily finish those leftovers and Cleon begged silently for Swan to not contradict her.

Swan didn't say anything, though.

"Do you have anything for us to carry it in?" Ajax finally asked after a tense silent moment of her and Rembrandt staring at each other.

"Sure." And Cleon sent the two on their way with a bag full of leftover pizza.

"They seem nice," Cleon said when Swan locked the door behind the girls and came into the living room, flopping on the couch next to her and curling into her side with a book.

"Ajax, nice?" Swan snorted as she opened her book. Something about evil rings, Cleon opened it once and it was too weird for her, but Swan loved it. "Yeah, right."

"I just mean, I like them. You don't really bring friends around," Cleon corrected. Cochise was politely pretending to be very interested in an infomercial on the TV.

"...I don't know if we're really friends, yet," Swan said, eyes still on her book.

Cleon waited.

"Ajax helped me out a few weeks ago," Swan finally said, her thumb and forefinger rubbing at the corner of the page. "The three of us eat lunch together and she walks with me in the hallways."

"What'd she help you out with?" Cleon asked, concerned now.

Swan just shrugged.

"Swan..."

"I can't get in trouble," Swan said.

Cleon furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"Remember, the social worker?" Swan finally looked at Cleon. "I can't get in trouble at school or that threatens my ability to stay here?"

Yeah. Cleon remembered that. It happened after Swan got into a fight with another girl, it was a whole disaster. The only saving grace was even the other girl in the fight admitted that Swan didn't start it.

The social worker, though?

"I just don't love how quickly Julia was willing to put her hands on another girl," the woman said, oh-so-sympathetic. Cleon wanted to put hands on the woman herself in that moment.

Where was that concern when their foster dad was willing to put his hands on Julia? The double standards made Cleon want to scream.

"Yeah, what about it?" Cleon asked.

"Well, that kind of got around school, so some people thought it was funny to mess with me a bit, since I couldn't fight back, really," Swan said.

Bright fury flashed in Cleon's chest at the words. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't a big deal," Swan said. "I didn't want you to worry about it."

"It's my job to worry about you." Cleon wanted to cry.

"You worry enough," Swan promised, leaning into Cleon, resting her head on Cleon's shoulder. Cleon tightened her grip around Swan's shoulders. "Ajax handled it, anyway."

"How?" Cleon asked.

"Fought 'em. She got suspended for a few days, but it worked," Swan said.

Damn. Cleon owed Ajax way more than some cold pizza.

"You should've told me that earlier, I would have brought her some cookies from work or something," Cleon joked.

Swan shrugged. "She doesn't really like adults. It's not personal."

It was always shocking to be called an adult, but it hurt more to hear Swan say it that way. Cleon remembered what it was like, not liking adults. Not trusting adults. She never wanted to be an adult that a kid like her, that a kid like Ajax, couldn't trust, didn't like.

"You should bring them around," Cleon said finally. "Tell 'em we'll always have a meal for them."

"...are you sure?" Swan asked hesitantly. The way she asked if Cleon was sure they had enough money to get a new pair of shoes or buy extra butter for the week to melt onto popcorn.

"Yeah." They would make it work.

It wasn't every day. It wasn't even every other day, but, sure enough, Swan started coming home with Ajax and Rembrandt in tow. Always the two of them, together, never one or the other.

Ajax was very protective of Rembrandt. Cleon noticed that from the first day, but it became particularly evident the more she interacted with them. She tensed whenever Rembrandt got close to an adult, be it Cleon or Cochise or Cowgirl, who was eager to meet the "pizza thieves."

"Cleon told us to take it," Ajax had looked ready to fight when Cowgirl made the joke.

Cowgirl did not make that joke, again.

"I am not afraid of your little friend," Cowgirl had protested later that night, when Swan had half-teased her about it.

"You sure looked it," Swan poked more until Cowgirl chased Swan down the hallway.

At first, Cleon figured it was because of Rembrandt's small stature and birdlike bones. Rembrandt had a sharp tongue when she wanted to and clearly could stand up for herself.

Then, Rembrandt showed up at the apartment with a black eye and the same sunshine demeanor.

"Don't ask," Swan said quietly later to Cleon, who just nodded.

Ajax barely spoke that day, sullen and scowling. Even when Cleon broke out the rare treat of root beer, Ajax still seemed angry.

It's not your fault, Cleon wanted to tell Ajax. You're a kid. You're just a kid.

Because sixteen was so young. So, so young and Cleon remembered being young and scared, but having to look after someone younger and more scared.

"Cleon, we can't," Cochise said on the roof that night.

It rankled, but Cleon say Cochise's white-knuckle grip on the roof ledge and knew she wasn't alone in her anger. They couldn't afford to take in strays, not right now, not when they were barely more than strays themselves. The social worker still kept knocking, even though Cleon passed all the standard checks and she could never remember her caring this fucking much when Swan and her were being tossed between randos.

"We can give them a safe place," Cleon said. "We can give them a few warm meals every now and then. We can do that. They've survived this long, a bit of help can keep them going."

It did, in the end. It helped. It helped long enough for them to be looking down the barrel of graduation before Ajax came to Cleon and finally, verbally asked for help. And it happened when Cleon finally got that damn promotion she could have used years ago and they could finally move into a larger apartment and Swan turned eighteen and it didn't matter what the social worker thought, no one was going anywhere.

[kradogsrats]

*cracks knuckles* OKAY.

I think there's definitely a strong chance that the Cosmic Council was afraid of humans achieving any significant degree of power. I'm all but certain the primal elves and archdragons were afraid of humans, at least by the point of expelling them into the west and splitting the continent. A human burned the Archdragon of the Sun. The closest thing possible to a living embodiment of a primal source, and a human, with their dark human magic, turned that same primal source against it in a way that should be impossible. That's terrifying. Like, I give it at least a solid 50-50 chance that it wasn't mercy that made them exile humans instead of eradicating them, but the fear of starting a war that they couldn't necessarily be sure they would win. It's absolutely not outside the realm of possibility that the Cosmic Council reacted similarly to the Novablade—like, that's it! Time to go! Experiment over!

I also think you're onto something with humans and their flexibility and imagination. We explicitly know that elves are, on some level, bound to thinking in particular ways—they are born knowing the truth of their arcanum, and we have yet to see one deviate from that. I don't think that's an absolute or that all elves of a given type are the same/think the same way, because the truth of an entire primal is going to be both big and complicated. I've dug a bit into the differences between Rayla's understanding of the Moon arcanum and Runaan's, and we've seen Rayla's individuality in that sense acknowledged in other ways ("Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart").

Back in the misty past of, uh... last April, we had a flurry of speculation about the origins of primal elves. I put forward a whole bunch of theories, a lot of which are rendered moot by s6 onward, but some of which I think is potentially still valid or can be recontextualized. I think it's likely enough that the First Elves/Great Ones and the archdragons were peers, and I think there's a significant chance that primal magic was in some way exclusive to the archdragons (and other flora/fauna of Xadia). That is, the First Elves didn't have a hand in creating or shaping primal magic, and I believe they couldn't natively use it at all. If that's the case, and the Cosmic Order depends on humans being kept in their place under the enforcement of the dragons... well, there are potentially a lot of humans, and not very many dragons (especially archdragons) or (presumably) First Elves. So what if the primal elves were introduced as an additional layer against the rise of humanity? They can populate the world at a similar level and speed as humans (as opposed to one egg every thousand years), and more importantly... they're predisposed to be primal mages. All the other creatures of Xadia have primal abilities, but elves... elves can learn spells. It would make perfect sense to me if that was exclusive to elves and archdragons—primal magic spells are in Draconic, and the only other being I can recall seeing perform a primal magic spell is Zubeia.

This would make the most sense to have occurred after humans acquired primal magic, as an attempt to salvage that situation, but it's at least strongly implied that primal elves were established by Leola's time, since she has a friend who appears to be a Moonshadow elf (Garlaath?). I had interpreted the timeline as indicating that primal elves emerged 5,000 years ago, but that's really not specified—if we accept it could be any time in the 3,000 years between then and Leola (including at the time of the conflict with Shiruakh, which would put a fun new spin on @spicyviren's theory that Laurelion was the first Sunfire elf), it could have been for any number of reasons. One of my prior theories was that primal elves were a gift or concession to the archdragons, subjects to worship them the way humans were worshiping the stars. That also makes sense of how the Sunfire elves are more numerous, authoritative, and militant—if the draconic royal line at the time was archdragons of the Sun, of course they'd get the "best" elves, who implicitly rule over and safeguard the others.

I think the primal elves' circumstances are particularly interesting, because it's entirely possible that they are actually also victims of the Cosmic Order, both in how they were created and their intended role.

BUT YEAH something something "long slow spiral to chaos" and humans, who can write their own destinies, being the embodiment of that chaos

What Is Up With Humans, and a Brief History of Xadia

Because season seven gave us two important pieces of the puzzle and while we still don't have a full picture, I'm at least willing to try to assemble them. Let's go.

Elves and Dragons or First Elves vs Dragons

Previously to season 6, I'd speculated that the Archdragons and the First elves were peers. This was due to certain similar language used to describe them ("Oh Zubeia, your heavenly majesty" / "our adversary was literally a being from the heavens") as well as association: "In the name of the dragons and the First Elves" (4x03). It also provided an interesting contrast of the 'most powerful' elves and dragons being allied with one another, whereas the other elves were more subservient to the dragons (acting as the Dragonguard, bringing gifts, elements of worship) if not also enforcing their will over them (the Drake riders).

And it seemed, thanks to season 6, that this was straightforwardly confirmed. The Archdragons, even the draconic monarchy, worked alongside the Cosmic Council to maintain the Cosmic Order, per Leola's execution utilizing the Dragon Prince, Anak Araw, as a witness for something the Council hadn't even, perhaps, directly seen as it happened. Continuing into season seven, this association was maintained without any real hiccups. Aaravos states that "the dragons and the elves, all the arrogant fools blinded by the searing light of their own self-righteousness. They stand high, and they will fall hard" (7x01).

There's a little inclination that maybe things weren't always peaceful between the First Elves and Archdragons, given that the bite of the latter can destroy the mortal vessel of the former, but we don't have any conflict confirmed until we get to 7x07, and then boy do we.

3,000 years ago, we know of at least one battle between an archdragon and a first elf. We also know that Laurelion was battling the creature in their mortal form, hence why it could be (temporarily) destroyed, even if we don't know how long it'd take for their stars to re-align. We also don't know what they were fighting over. Perhaps who'd have control over the Earth, or Laurelion, protecting humanity from a destructive Archdragon — except...

Humans (see those consistently five fingers?) forged the Nova Blade, uniquely made to kill First Elves' mortal forms. Whatever conflict was happening, humans were ultimately more on the Archdragons' side than the Stars', and utilized what would become a basis for dark magic later — using a magical creature's body part — to forge a sword of great power.

It casts this line from Ziard in a new light, to say the least, whether it was genuine or just snide snark either way:

(More on Elarion and timeline things in a bit.)

We don't know, of course, whether Laurelion and Shiruakh's battle was unique and singular and individual, the beginning or culmination of a long drawn out conflict, or if other Archdragons and First Elves were battling one another. Just because humans were creating something to take down Startouch elves doesn't mean they were on the dragons' side either, or what magical (or non-magical) status they had at the time, 3000 years ago. But we do know, at one point since then and before Elarion a thousand years later, the First Elves and Archdragons came together to create and enforce the Cosmic Order, as Aaravos states:

To create a system that worked for them as a unit, and worked against humans. And while an oppressive system doesn't need a ('justified') reason to oppress beyond "having people on the bottom means you get to stay on top" this is where we get into the meta-narrative of it all.

Season Six: Revealing the Hand of God

The meta-narrative, or metafiction, is a form of fiction that emphasizes its own narrative structure in a way that inherently reminds the audience that they are reading or viewing a fictional work. The pulling back of the curtain, or when stories emphasize storytelling (think Hamilton following a character who's constantly worried about if, or how, his story will be told... while you are actively watching it be told.) Think of how different ATLA would be, for example, if we knew directly how the Avatar was chosen, and therefore got into the ethicals of some grand being putting a burden uniquely on the shoulders of a young child, compared to "this is just the story's worldbuilding, and we don't know how it's chosen."

Or, in other words, TDP's writers creating a purposefully unfair magical system in which to explore the conflicts that system would create (because stories are often thought experiments) but with no one in-universe to blame for that system. It just is. Or, I should say, it just was.

Putting characters in your story who Chose who got magic, or who didn't (and the consequences of it) when those choices were fundamentally Unfair, creates someone that we, the audience, and the characters, can blame for that unfair system. There is someone to be angry at. There is someone to hold accountable. The Cosmic Council decided, for whatever reason, to give magic, or create beings (elves) that had magic, and to have beings who not only don't, but cannot and should not have magic. And it was consciously decided, by people who exist within the story and within the narrative, not just by the outside hand of god creators, that humans would not.

Was this punishment for crafting the Nova Blade, and the humans (or magic-less elves?) who did side with the First Elves against the archdragons were given magic and became the primal elves (everyone but the stars)? But if that's the case, why and how did the First Elves and Archdragons — the latter previously possibly being allies of the humans — become united against humans? Did the Archdragons throw humans under the bus when the dust settled? Were the Archdragons angry at humans for, presumably, crafting the Scale of Shiruakh into a weapon as well? (We know that First Elves rarely take mortal form; was it different Before, and Nova Blade happy wielding humans gave them the incentive to stay more up into the heavens?)

We also know that pre-Fall of Elarion, the humans thought that the Stars would save them from the dragons...:

Elarion, fading bloom, afraid to wilt and dim and die, she searched the dark for but a spark and caught the dragons’ hungry eye. Elarion, frightened waif, reached bone-white branches to the night, the stars she asked their light to cast and stop the dragons’ fiery might.1

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. [...] It cannot be, wept others. The stars would not betray us!2

The dragons directly, not the Stars, had become the enemy of humans over primal magic usage, even though humans made the Nova Blade, and even though the dragons had once been allies, making it seem like an 180 switch happened in the interim. And we do know (although this could've been Leola) that eventually the stars did help humans, even if they did so without caring:

And so the humans learned to wait. They stared into the inky black above, patiently waiting for the stars to share their knowledge, their guidance, their brilliant light—and one day, the heavens finally reached for them. Held them. Blessed them. The humans rejoiced. We are saved, they cried. The stars have finally answered us! We were right to be patient—we were right to wait!3

It makes me wonder whether the Archdragons at the time made the decision for humans to not have magic, and the Stars agreed to enforce it, or whether it was the opposite / mutual.

Moving on: whatever the agreement between them was, one thing held fast of consciously choosing to deprive humans of primal magic, and then doing their best to maintain that deprivation.

Then it all changed, and an Order that hinged so completely on humans not having (primal) magic, at having humans at the bottom of the hierarchy, that it was irreparably broken, seemingly, by just a tiny taste of it, passing from Leola to her human friends.

This act, however motivated, is the beginning of the end. The start of the long slow spiral to chaos. (6x09) / So it is only fitting that I deliver their fear, the Great Unravelling, in Leola's name. (7x06)

My first part of the over arching theory I'm working towards, then, is that the Cosmic Order was made to keep elves and dragons and even archdragons in line, yes, but primarily to keep humans in line.

But why? What is it about humans that make them so unique, or dangerous, that they need to be 'supervised'? Well, I think it went further than

More Than Primal Magic

We know thanks to Callum and other sources (Ripples) that humans can connect to arcanums, and can connect to more than one, with Aaravos being our only example of an elf having more than one arcanum. It begs the question of, if Callum could do it, if there was any truly stopping from humans from acquiring it due to their nature (i.e. cuddlemonkeys like Stella are also born without arcanums, and then connect due to their environmental factors). But that's a post for another day, and I think that "humans connecting to primal magic" is only part of what scared the Cosmic Council.

And what I'm about to propose is, admittedly, both a simplistic and complicated answer for what was so special about humans. (It is also somewhat inspired by a HTTYD fanfic called "Hitchups" I read 11 years ago as a worldbuilding concept, so go figure). However, the more I turned it over in my head, the more I felt like it best reflected what we've seen throughout the series so far, so here it is.

Humans are dangerous because they have Imagination.

And I know on first glance that seems and sounds stupid, but bear with me. Humans, specifically, seem to have more the ability in-universe to imagine new, better, possibilities than we see from the elves and dragons, without prompting in the same manner. Whether it's the human gazing upon the new Sea of the Cast Out...

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am.

or Harrow's urgings to Callum, a son who already dreamed of peace even without knowing of the living dragon egg (which is what Rayla and Zubeia needed to get to the same place):

Callum, who believes that primal magic for himself is possible, even when every elf around him disagrees, and then he's right. Or Rayla's reflections on Callum, yes, but humans at large, as though elves struggle routinely with doing the same (and they do, constantly harkening back to the past otherwise):

The human kicked dirt at her, and Rayla scraped at her eyes, angry—infuriated, even. Humans were frustrating. Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them—4

Rayla, who offers up her gift of sacrifice to Rex Igneous to be the same like everything before, and it's only through Ezran's thought process and Barius' invention that it turns into anything else. Anything new, or successful.

Or the Orphan Queen, who alone sees through Aaravos' eyes, and then manages to convince everyone else who loved him that he's a traitor, who saw the possibility no one else were able to consider. Or the Jailer, who was tasked with creating the prison as opposed to just a primal elf mage, like one couldn't.

REX IGNEOUS: Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes, and helped Xadia put an end to them. (4x08) AKIYU: I was visited by a human mage who called herself the Jailer. The Archdragons had given the Jailer a daunting task to design a magical prison that could hold a Startouch elf. She needed my powers to craft the prison itself. [...] The puzzle is the real prison, she told me with a proud smile. (5x05)

In this, the humans taught me another lesson.5 [...] Aaravos thinks that if he cared for the idea [of birthdays], he’d like to remember the taste of a smooth red fruit a human had plucked from a tree for him, once. It had been so crisp, and so sweet.6

And this idea — that while elves can, humans are better at introducing New Ideas, is not a new one either. Although we see Rayla, Janai, and other Xadian creatures think of ideas/plans, they are usually still operating within the means of what they Know to be possible—to use illusions as a Moonshadow elf, to cut Amaya's line off, to use their lightning abilities or strength—as opposed to what is half-started or unlikely (the bulk of Callum's magic in season 1, and again in 3x09). And we see this best through the way that humans, 9/10, are the ones who introduce Breaking the Cycle to Xadian creatures. We see this with not-so-great ideas as well: humans do the thing, and Xadians eventually copy them.

Now, some of this is an oversimplification, of course. Dragons and elves do introduce some new ideas to human characters, teach them magic/spells, and take new ideas from one another. Callum is usually more optimistic and likely to see a new spin on things than Rayla, for example, but Rayla is the one who sees Esmeray as something other than a monster. Most of the time, though, when elves or dragons are influencing human characters though, it is through revealing information (the scale necklace; Esmeray and Luna Tenebris; that Aaravos can possess people; Terry with Aaravos' plans, etc), not necessarily inventing new perspectives.

Meanwhile, humans reveal information a good deal of the time too: Ezran discovers and shares that the egg wasn't destroyed at all; Callum finds the truth of whether Rayla's parents ran away; the Orphan Queen, as noted, revealed Aaravos' treachery; and Corvus can tell that something is up with that island (7x01).

Elves, meanwhile, tend to be much more... follower-esque. Runaan does not kill unless he is ordered to ("and then Callum will decide if you live or die"). Karim believes in Janai as queen, and treats her as such, and even when he is pushing for his own rule, it is doing so in subsequent open service to Sol Regem and then Aaravos as greater authorities ("What would you have me do? Where would you have me go?" / "You pushed me to this, sister"). The elves who don't, or aren't, usually have more human influence on their lives: Amaya and Ezran with Janai; Callum, Ezran, and Amaya with Rayla, etc.

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. [...] But I have heard the lesson of the humans. I know patience well.

And this imagination to dream, build, create, to forge, to pursue with determination, makes them less predictable. They don't have arcanums: they don't have anything they intrinsically 'know' to shape them the way elves and magical creatures, and so they can know nothing; they can know anything, and that makes them much harder to control and look over, even for those who are Timeblind (as the Cosmic Council likely is). Especially since, per the apple, it seems that yes maybe Aaravos shared the gift of magic with humans by his own admission, and maybe helped to develop dark magic... but I do wonder if humans invented it, regardless. What Startouch elf would need self-eating, after all?

As a final point for this section: even Aaravos giving humans magic wasn't his idea. Humans likely saw Leola do primal magic and learned from it themselves > to her giving them enough to make a significant difference. Then Aaravos took what had already happened, then twisted and did it again. Moreover, Aaravos plots and plans and relies on people's predictability in order to manipulate them; he may hate the Cosmic Council, but he's still fundamentally acting like them, enforcing pre-determined destinies onto other characters, Sir Sparklepuff, Sol Regem, Viren, and his other pawns chief among them.

If humans are unique among Xadia for reasons beyond magic, then them rejecting the destiny of the stars, Aaravos included, is the ultimate way to write their own destiny and rewrite the system to be truly equitable (hi Callum with Aaravos' key and a literal leaning book of destiny?) and I think that's pretty cool.

A Detour: Aaravos' De-Powering

Back on the note of "the Cosmic Order and Council we see presented in S6 is not the way things always were" from before, I want to talk about Aaravos' de-powering. Specifically, both of them. Again, we tread into speculation territory here (because when do we not when it comes to the deep lore) but bear with me.

In the pre-S6 posters of him and his cube/book, Aaravos wears the same crown as the rest of the Cosmic Council. We don't know enough about Startouch elves to know if they all wear them, or just the Cosmic Council, or if every Startouch elf besides Aaravos is on the council anyway, with his classic bangles and even fancier outfit.

But by the time we see Aaravos in S6, he doesn't have his crown. This could be something he relinquished by choice, a side effect of residing on earth (though he has no trouble going to the 'council' room for lack of a better term), or otherwise stripped from him. This could be what made him less powerful than the rest of the council.

We know that the Cosmic Council didn't leave right away after primal magic was given, either. It was only when Elarion had grown from a fledging to a thriving city thanks to primal magic, and the dragons seemingly took issue, that the Stars left and Aaravos remained. We don't know why for either choice, beyond Aaravos wanting to stay and 'help' humanity (ie. get closer to the Great Unravelling):

Elarion, unworthy whelp, Wept as the stars turned black the sky, They donned their masks They turned their backs, And left Elarion to die. Elarion, dying husk, did wilt and whimper in the dark, ‘till the last star Reached from afar His touch: a blaze, a gift, a spark.

But as @kradogsrats pointed out, perhaps the Cosmic Council left because they were afraid. We see time and time again that fear, when listened to, is a turning point for people leaving: Soren ("I don't want to do this. I'm afraid"), Rayla (afraid of what Viren might do to the world and Callum), Lissa ("she was afraid, she said no"), Terry (of becoming someone he's not), and of more isolationist behaviour. Janai becomes demanding in 6x02 ("Take your masks off, I want to see what you are truly feeling. You are... afraid?"), asks Karim "what are you so afraid of?" in 4x02, to which he responds with permanent integration. And others who overrule fear — "Of course he was afraid, but you had a job to do!" / "It won't follow because it's afraid of me" — being antagonistic because of it.

Aaravos — who the other First Elves at least trusted — doing / becoming something awful, which causes them to turn and run. Maybe they're more de-powered than we think (we are assuming, after all, that they're at the full height of their abilities and can kill him, neither of which may be necessarily true). Aaravos states in 'Patience' that "I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother" and the Epic of the Void poem in Tales of Xadia ponders:

Where do the fabled Great Ones hide? What secrets have you locked inside? [...] Of Starfolk, fabled, fallen, found— Once everywhere, now none around. Is all we are to know of thee Consumed by Dark, or cast to Sea? So bound to Earth, are we denied The touch of Stars? Have our Gods died? Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?

So, seemingly, there was the removal of Aaravos from the council, then something that made him be 'Fallen,' and that includes why he can't just access the First Elves wherever they are now the way he could before. With all this in mind, onto the 'conclusion'.

So What's the Point?

Quick timeline run down:

5,000 years ago: First Elves and 'ordinary' elves are separate. There are Archdragons and humans. Only First elves and archdragons, presumably, have magic.

3000 years ago: Laurelion and Shiruakh have their battle. More fighting between the archdragons and first elves may be ongoing. Humans forge the Nova Blade and presumably the scale armour.

Between 3000 and 2000 years ago: Primal elves are made distinctive. Aaravos is higher up in Startouch 'society'? First elves are more regularly walking around on the mortal plain. Aaravos has his first de-powering. Leola gives humans magic and is executed. Anak Araw is the Dragon Prince and Aaravos' goal of vengeance is born.

2000 years ago: Elarion is thriving under primal magic with humanity. Dragons (and possibly first elves) don't like it. The First Elves leave (ish). Sometime in the next 800 years Aaravos robs the Starscraper, taking a singular staff and a quasar diamond and gives humanity dark magic.

1200 years ago: Sol Regem is Dragon King. The Staff of Ziard is gifted, sowing chaos. Stand off with Ziard happens.

1000 years ago: Luna Tenebris is the Dragon Queen. Humanity is exiled to the west under the Judgement of the Half Moon, potentially after poaching all the unicorns. The Mage Wars happen, with the Staff passing through many hands, with Xadia not stepping in to stop any of it.

300 years ago: Luna Tenebris is murdered, throwing the archdragons into a succession crisis. Queen Aditi mysteriously vanishes (aka is eaten by Aaravos) before she can resolve it. The Mage Wars end (?) possibly because of Aaravos' imprisonment thanks to the Orphan Queen. She acquires the Key of Aaravos and passes it down her new royal line; the Jailer presumably keeps the staff and passes it down her occupational line of high mage of Katolis.

The one wiggling thought is that Ziard states that "One of the great ones" gave him the staff in 3x01, implying that more than just Aaravos are still around, but Sol Regem being pissed does imply that he knew it was Aaravos directly. Speaking of Sol Regem, I get the sense that he knew more than he was letting on, given that he tattled on Leola, hated humans but grew much more bitter as he progressed towards modern day (no more offers of mercy or bargaining), and his distaste for Aaravos despite not being involved in imprisoning him with the other Archdragons. The fact that he has the bleakest view on Xadia ("You think I can reign and fix what is broken in Xadia? No one can save it") and is the one Archdragon we know was canonically old enough to be contemporaries with the First Elves does not help matters, either.

I suppose what this all amounts to is that, with both the Archdragons and humanity (allied or not), First Elves faced a lot more conflict on the mortal plain than maybe first considered, before things evened out to something more stable and reverent. Humans were made to be distinct from primal elves on purpose, but in a flawed manner (i.e. they can connect to arcanums Anyway), possibly in a way that inspired Aaravos to do the same if he wasn't inherently connected (which is perhaps what his book used to be as a conduit). First Elves might've left because they were freaking terrified, and not necessarily just indifferent.

Meanwhile, the more you look at humans, the more they're beautiful freaks of nature within Xadia, and while they've undoubtedly done fucked up things in pursuit of magic and power/protection, we know Aaravos stoked the Mage Wars, and it also wouldn't surprise me if certain facts (like the unicorn extinction) was the responsibility of other parties in Xadia in congruence, rather than just on their shoulders. Unreliable narrators and all that + even when they were present, the Cosmic Council seemingly wasn't doing much, relying on Sol Regem both to report to them and to serve as a witness, and then doing fuck all about Aaravos when shit actually hit the fan. Maybe Aaravos and his quasi-human army hyped on primal magic freaked them out.

Uh. Thoughts?

[taylorsabrina]

PLEASE LET THERE BE A COLLAB WITH SABRINA ON THIS NEW ALBUM PLEASE OH PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!

[slimeylee]

why have these last years fucking sucked ass

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

we've already done it in my head | spencer reid x reader

You have fantasies about Spencer, and you feel bad about it when you have to see him at work. Thing is, he has fantasies about you too.

wc: 4.8k, rating: explicit

tags/warnings: professor!spencer, post prison!spencer, bau!reader, fem!reader, sexual fantasies, masturbation, daddy kink, getting together, hookups, friends with benefits (?), mentions of public sex/exhibitionism (they don't actually do it), fucking with feelings but neither of them really realise it yet lol...

a/n: i am insane and that's all i'll say about this fic. jk i started this at the top of the month and i'm glad i've finally finished it. this was such a crazy one to work on, aside from being swamped with school work. thank you to my lovely friend from twitter vic who kept encouraging me to work on this hehe. inspired heavily by taylor swift's guilty as sin? (obviously) and chappell roan's picture you just for those horny yearning vibes yknow? please enjoy this insanity!!! (crossposted to ao3)

Spencer rushes in from the university when Emily calls. It’s a serious case, one that Emily decides Spencer needs to be pulled away from his teaching for. She doesn’t feel good doing it – the whole team knows how important teaching is to Spencer, but he understands all the same when he comes into the round table room. Spencer sits down at the last empty seat next to you, his hair a mess as he sets down his things and flips open the case file. He turns to smile at you, before Penelope starts the case brief.

It’s a long, tiring day of work after landing in California, the BAU having been called in to investigate the murders of young moms in the area, and you need a glass of wine and a nice hot bath to even fathom everything you’ve seen today.

You should just turn in for the night, the Bureau being particularly kind with their budget as you all get individual rooms. Your drowsiness should put you fast to sleep, but your mind is racing with thoughts of Spencer.

Spencer’s been in his nice suit all day, filling out his shirt nicely. You’ve noticed his stubble growing in, and his hair is messy and gorgeous. You can’t help yourself for feeling this way, as guilty as you feel about it. You’ve been harbouring your crush on Spencer for way too long, in the couple of years since you joined the BAU. Spencer is a sight for sore eyes for sure, but his kind gentleness despite the horrors of what you all do for work is a welcome reprieve. 

While his sweet nature was what had you falling for him in the first place, Spencer could be extremely sexy, even if he didn’t know it. 

Today was especially tough for you. You and Spencer were sent in to interrogate a particularly uncooperative suspect, playing into the good cop-bad cop dynamic. Your coaxing wasn’t doing anything, and Spencer had ended up raising his voice in an attempt to intimidate them. He’d slammed his hand on the table, a loud clang against the metal, and his large figure only served to crowd the suspect in to scare them further.

You only got to know Spencer after the mess that was him getting wrongly sent to prison, but Spencer supposedly wasn’t like this before prison. Still, you found Spencer’s quiet intimidation incredibly attractive, and you had to keep your composure in the interrogation room earlier.

And your mind drifts to Spencer from earlier, his rough callousness with the suspect, his glare wild and intimidatingly sexy, you end up thinking about him.

About Spencer, who is so kind and sweet with you and the rest of the team, seeming like he couldn’t hurt a fly. 

About Spencer who could also be domineering and intimidating. He seems like he’d only pull it out if you asked, but the duality has you hot under the collar. 

Your eyes slip shut, mind swirling with thoughts of Spencer, about having him all to yourself, about him wanting you. 

About his large hands on you, making you feel so small under his firm grasp. 

About him pinning you down on the hard, cool metal of the table in the interrogation room. 

About him caging you in with his arms, the look in his eyes almost crazed and full of lust for you. 

“Spencer,” you gasp, before Spencer kisses you fervently. His stubble is rough against your skin, but you don’t care. Spencer kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his next meal, with such desperation that you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re gorgeous,” Spencer says. He kisses your jaw, down your neck, and his large hands are all over your body. You feel so secure in his grasp, he feels you up and drinks his fill of you. He gropes your tits, your thighs, your ass, manhandling you into spreading your legs, so he can press the hardness of his cock to your cunt. “Look what you do to me.”

You whimper, fully indulging in this wet dream as you slide a hand into your underwear. “Spencer,” you gasp.

“You’re so hot, you make me feel crazy,” Spencer hums, rolling his hips against you. You’re separated between layers of fabric, but Spencer humping you like this turns you on to no end. 

You rub at your clit in tight little circles, your wetness aiding the slide as you get yourself off to the thought of Spencer.

“Spence,” you moan, frustrated. While Spencer’s hardness grinding against you is literally a dream, you want to imagine his cock buried inside of you. You’re perfectly capable of moving this along, so you do. 

Magically, Spencer’s clothes are off and so are yours, the perks of a fantasy being that you don’t have to awkwardly stumble through taking your clothes off. You have a hazy picture of what he’d look like naked in front of you. You imagine toned muscle, a slight pudge to his tummy from his time in prison, his pecs filled out nicely. You imagine his cock would be pretty, as pretty as he is, veiny and thick and all sorts of perfect. 

“You’re too fucking good to me, baby,” Spencer groans, the blunt head of his cock pressed up against you now. He rubs off against you, sliding over your clit, your folds, over the wetness leaking from your whole. “Gonna fuck you so good, just like you deserve.”

Without hesitation, Spencer’s cock slips into you, the perfect thickness to make you feel full as he slides in inch by inch. 

You slip your fingers into yourself, aided by how impossibly wet you are just at the thought of Spencer, and your groan weakly. Two fingers aren’t enough, not when you bet Spencer could fill you up, like he’d split you in half on his cock. 

He pushes into you until he’s pressed flush against you, buried inside of you to the hilt. He starts to pound into you, like he’s uncaring of what you need, but the way he treats you turns you on impossibly.

Your fingers aren’t enough to satiate you, but you thrust them in and out of you in an effort to mimic how Spencer fucking you might feel. You moan, a little louder than you’d like.

“Spence–” you gasp, in your fantasy. It should be scandalous, Spencer taking you over the table in the interrogation room. You don’t know if the thought of people being behind the one-way mirror turns you on or not – being watched, letting Spencer take you in front of everybody. You like the thought of Spencer being so obsessed with you, so desperate, needing to fuck you right where you work.

The metal table is cool and harsh against your hips, but you don’t care if it hurts as Spencer fucks you relentlessly, quickly taking on a brutal pace. It’s exactly what you need, what you want Spencer to do with you, being rough and frantic enough to make you scream his name.

You whimper his name under your breath, bashful even while in your fantasy. 

Spencer has you pinned down, but it’s not like you intend to get away. You want to savour this even if it’s only in your mind, shameful as you’re getting off to the thought of your coworker. You just need this out of your system, need Spencer out of your system, and then tomorrow you can face him like a normal, well-adjusted person. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, palm grinding against your clit, fingers pressed inside of yourself. You’re shaking, with the thought of Spencer fucking you until you can’t take it anymore, the ideal of him in your mind too perfect, until you’re moaning into your hand as you orgasm. You sob, clenching tight around your fingers, feeling your slick gush out as you ride your high.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, but after both a long day and a crazy good orgasm, you end up passing out with a tissue clenched in your hand, with your panties and sleep shorts kicked off to the foot of the bed.

---

Spencer can’t stop thinking about you.

He shouldn’t, not when you’re his coworker and also one of the people he’s friendliest with in the unit. 

Spencer would say he couldn’t bring himself to trust many, especially after coming out of prison, but you were the one he warmed up to the easiest. A new face in the BAU wasn’t uncommon, but Spencer had found himself drawn to you. You were kind and warm to him fresh out of prison, your tenderness a welcome reprieve as he’d gotten accustomed to being back at the BAU. With your intellect and quick wit, matched with your beauty, Spencer could not help but be attracted to you – but that’s besides the point. 

Spencer knows how much your friendship with him means to you, and he’s certain that that’s all you see him as: a friend. 

Yet, he can’t stop himself from thinking about you in those pants. Those pants that hug your curves just right. Those pants that make your ass look great – not that he was looking – especially when you’re leaning over an interrogation table, trying to play the good cop with the suspect from earlier.

Spencer had hung back, trying to get a read on the suspect while you spoke to him. Him getting to ogle your figure and stare at how good you looked in those pants was unintentional, but he definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Spencer only felt a bit bad wrapping his hand around himself in the shower, mind flooded with thoughts of you. Water, almost scorching, running down his body, his hand moves fast and reckless, exhaling harshly as he gets himself off. 

He can’t get you out of his mind, your gorgeous figure, your pretty face, your wide eyes and thick thighs and soft lips – he shouldn’t be thinking of you like this. You were a coworker, a friend, for God’s sake, and yet he can’t stop imagining you under him. 

He can’t stop imagining pressing you against the table in the interrogation room – your lithe frame underneath him, making you look so small, making him feel so big. 

He presses his growing problem to your perfect ass, watching you writhe underneath him. You keep looking back up at him, with your wide, wet eyes and your flushed cheeks, looking like you need him to give you exactly what you need.

“Please, daddy,” you whine, and Spencer is groaning and undoing his belt before your pants get pushed down too. Stroking his cock quickly, Spencer easily finds his way to your entrance, wet and dripping with your slick. He pushes into you, pressing kisses to your neck as you groan with the intrusion. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Spencer coos at you. Spencer feels you press yourself back up against him, pushing his cock deeper, and he loses all sense of control as he starts to fuck you hard. He feels like a madman, unable to hold himself back as he takes and takes and takes, fucking into your tight wetness, his head spinning with how good you feel around him. 

You’re whining and moaning under him, your noises music to Spencer’s ears as they echo off the walls. Your cunt is wet and sloppy as Spencer fucks you, wanting to give you everything you need and more.

“Fuck, baby,” Spencer groans, his hand tightly fisted around his cock. The way the tip of his cock leaks is easing the slide, as he pictures in crystal-clear detail how your cunt would draw him in, slick and messy be fucks into your perfect, tight cunt. “You’re too good to me.”

“Daddy,” you sob, your hands clawing down Spencer’s back. Spencer gropes you greedily through your clothes, grabs your tits and feels his fill of your waist, your perfect ass, your thighs as he rocks himself back and forth between them. 

“Gonna cum inside of you, love,” Spencer grunts, his pace unrelenting. His hands are on your thighs, gripping you tight, both fucking into you and dragging you onto his cock over and over. “You’re gorgeous. Gonna make a mess of you.”

You’re whining underneath him, making him feel too good, as you clench around him tight and moan even louder. Spencer can’t help himself, thrusting into you hard and fast and eager until he’s cumming.

He spills into his hand, the thick white ropes of his cum washed down the drain with the spray of the shower from above him. Visions of you flash through his mind, your gorgeous frame, your pretty face, your mouth on his. 

He’s barely towelled off before he’s knocked out in his bed, too tired to even process feeling guilty about jerking off to you. 

---

Sure, perhaps it’s childish to try and avoid Spencer all day, especially when you have an active case all of you need to be working on. You must be a fool to think that getting yourself off to Spencer would help, because all you can think about is your fantasies of him last night, how you imagined him bending you over and taking you– Not helping, you remind yourself.

Emily must secretly be on your side or be able to read your mind or something, because Spencer is relegated to work on geographic profiles and speed-read through case files back at the police precinct, while you get sent out onto the field to chase down your killer. 

But you can’t avoid Spencer forever, and you aren’t any good at it either. You feel like Spencer’s eyes are on you the whole day when you and him are in the same room, but you never look up at him to find out. While you could chalk up your nerves to a serial killer still being out on the streets, you don’t have any more excuses at the end of the day when you’ve finally caught him, and the team decides to get dinner to celebrate.

You purposely wedge yourself between JJ and Emily when you sit down at the table, trying to avoid Spencer, and you think you’re successful with getting away with seeming a little out-of-it when you end up slipping away early, claiming you had a rough sleep last night.

You’ve barely settled down in your hotel room for the night, finally feeling like you can relax, when there’s a knock at your door. You have no clue who it could be, but you open the door, and–

There Spencer is. 

“Hi,” you say curtly, feeling embarrassment wash over you all of a sudden, because all you can think about is getting off to the thought of him last night. You feel your cheeks warm, but you hope it’s not obvious that you’re blushing. Then, in an attempt to seem somewhat normal and well-adjusted, you add, “What’s up?”

“I should be asking you that,” Spencer says, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. “What’s up with you today?”

You press your lips together in a thin line before you say, “Nothing’s up. I’m fine.”

“Come on,” Spencer prods, his head cocking to the side as he deadpans. “You know I can read you like an open book. Something’s up.”

You frown, Spencer stoking the flames of brattiness in you. “Yeah? Tell me what’s the matter, if you can read me so well.”

Spencer’s eyes widen slightly. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

“I- I thought we said no inter-group profiling,” Spencer says, his voice a little weak, and for the first time, you see Spencer look a little helpless. It’s kind of hot. 

Do you make him… nervous?

“Yeah, but if you insist on thinking something’s up with me…” You shrug, smiling. Spencer just blinks at you.

No. You couldn’t possibly entertain the thought. 

Spencer clears his throat. You watch him fidget with his hands just slightly, before he puts them by his sides to seem confident. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me, on purpose or not – both attest to your desire to avoid me somewhat. You could barely look me in the eye all day, which means you might be embarrassed or guilty of something, likely having to do with me.” Spencer says, his voice even, but he isn’t looking at you. 

You raise your eyebrows. His explanation is both specific and vague, and you feel slightly called out and safe from his scrutiny at the same time. But, you can’t shake off the feeling that there’s something more to Spencer’s words, the way he’s looking at you like he hopes you can’t pick his brain apart. 

So, you turn it back onto him, “Then, what do you think is the problem? You aren’t looking at me either, and you were fidgeting with your hands. Is something up with you, then? It almost sounds like you’re projecting, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer freezes, like he’s a deer caught in headlights. You can practically see his brain running a mile a minute, overthinking every possible outcome, overly self-aware of himself, his actions, his thoughts.

You try to stop yourself from smiling, because Spencer is kind of cute like this. “You wanna tell me what it is then, Reid?” 

“When did this become about me?” Spencer squeaks, his usually cool facade quickly disappearing. There’s a look in Spencer’s eyes, as he nervously looks you up and down, and oh– “I just– Well, I– You–”

“I’m thinking we might be on the same page, here,” you say, smirking. “Wanna tell me what it is?”

Spencer furrows his brows, his mouth agape as he looks up at you, but you’re putting your hand on his chest and trailing it down slowly. “Oh–”

“Tell me, Dr. Reid,” you cock your head, eyeing him up and down lazily. When you look at Spencer’s face, he’s shocked, enamoured and turned-on all in one. 

“You’re… attracted to me,” Spencer says, somewhat uncertain. “The same way I’m attracted to you.”

“And what makes you say that?” You hum. 

“I thought I heard you last night. Through the walls,” He says timidly, nothing you’ve seen from him before. “Thought I should’ve gone over to help, but I realised you were, um– You were pleasuring yourself. To- To me.”

“The walls are thin, huh?” You laugh, a little sheepish, but you note how Spencer’s becoming shy at the thought. “Did you…?”

His eyes grow wide. “Did I do what?”

You smirk. “That tells me everything I need to know, Reid,” you say, laughing.

“Well, you shouldn’t presume–”

“Shut up and kiss me, Reid,” you huff. You pull Spencer closer to you by his tie and you press your lips to his. 

It’s too perfect, when Spencer’s mouth is finally on yours. His hands cupping your face, Spencer kisses you hard and eager, like he can’t believe that he finally gets to have you. He kisses you like he’s starving, desperate for you as his next meal. You moan as his hands reach for your hips, pulling you in closer to him, greedy as he feels you up.

“Did you fantasise about this too? About me, like this?”

“This is better than I could’ve ever imagined,” Spencer says breathily. “You… You’re so attractive.”

“Could say the same about you,” you laugh, reaching to unbutton his shirt. His tie is already loose, hanging around his neck, but you want to see more. You undo the top few buttons, revealing more of his chest. You trail your finger over the exposed skin, letting your nail graze it slightly. You hear Spencer inhale sharply, and grin to yourself, proud of the effect you have on him. “So, do you want to just stand around and talk, or do you want to fuck me?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, and you chuckle. As if he hadn’t expected this was how it was going to go. Spencer purses his lips. “I mean, absolutely. I want to fuck you. But, um– We should definitely talk about this though.”

“Later,” you say, waving him off, before you lean in to kiss him again. Spencer grabs your waist again, like he needs to have you close. He lifts you slightly, making you squeak, but the both of you stumble over to the bed, unable to keep your hands off of each other, unable to keep your mouths off each other. You sit down on the bed, Spencer crowding you in with one of his knees on the mattress.

You loosen his tie and take it off, while Spencer moves to unbutton your shirt. HIs hands move deftly, eager to undress you, and he pulls away to marvel at the curve of your breasts in your bra when he pushes the satin shirt off of you. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself,” you say. You appreciate the view: a dishevelled, eager Spencer Reid in your bed, his hands all over you, his shirt half-undone, revealing tanned skin and a gorgeous body. “Need you to fuck me right now.”

Spencer laughs, perhaps a little incredulously, and he instead moves to take his shirt off instead. “I’ll- I’ll do that.”

“Good,” you say, distracted as you admire Spencer’s frame, the lines of his body, the softness of his stomach. He’s so hot you might die. “Very good.”

“I’m glad you like the view,” Spencer says, a little timid, like he’s shy to show off in front of you. He meets your gaze when you look up at him, caught in the middle of ogling him with no shame. 

You smile up at him sheepishly. “Please fuck me, Spencer.”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles, warm and gentle. He helps you slide your pants and underwear off your legs before you spread them. Spencer’s jaw drops, his eyes focused on the slick mess of your cunt. “Oh, my God.”

“Yeah?” you laugh, thoroughly amused with his reaction. “Show me how much you want me, too.”

Spencer’s hands are quick to push down his bottoms, dress slacks and boxer-briefs on your floor in an instant, wrapping a fist around himself as he works himself up for you. You can’t tear your eyes off of him – “Spencer, you’re… big.”

“Am I?” Spencer asks, and you’d lose your mind if you weren’t expecting Spencer to fuck your brains out. 

“You are,” you say calmly, because if you let yourself sound any more excited he might think you were insane. “But I can take you.”

Spencer grins. “Good.”

His fingers press against your cunt after you tell him to do so. His slender digits pick up all the slick that’s leaking from your hole, spreading it around messily as he toys with your clit. You shudder with the sensation, throwing your head back against the pillows. Then, one of his fingers slips into you, and he coaxes you open with a care you haven’t felt from most partners before. “How’s that?”

“So nice,” you groan, getting used to the feeling. He fucks you on his fingers, slow and careful, intent on stretching you out until you’re comfortable. You whimper and whine, feeling embarrassed at how vocal you’re being, but Spencer is kissing your breasts without a care in the world, and then you’re thinking about letting him know that you do feel good. Your next gasp is less ashamed, as Spencer coaxes a second finger in.

You’re panting as Spencer fucks you on his fingers, the repeated motion only working you up even more. The squelch from his fingers fucking you is obscene, and his eyes are wide as he looks at you. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. 

“Fuck me, Spence,” you say. 

Spencer bites his lip as he sits up and settles between your legs. He’s tugging at his cock as he lines himself up with your entrance. He slides his length along your folds, wet with your slick, and you groan at the friction. You grunt, wanting more, “Come on, Spence.” 

His hand on your leg, Spencer leans forward so he can press into you, and Spencer is practically folding you in half so he can fuck you. You moan at his thickness deep inside of you, filling you up, and the stretch is so undeniably amazing. Spencer’s length drags against your walls, such a delicious sensation deep in your bones, and you sob a little.

“Does that feel good?” Spencer asks softly, his voice tender. 

“So good, Spence,” you gasp. Spencer kisses your cheek, down your neck, and waits patiently for you to give him the go-ahead.

You feel his cock twitching inside of your heat, both your fantasies unable to live up to the real thing. Confident, cocky Spencer in your dreams is just that – a dream. The Spencer right in front of you is perfect, more perfect than what you’ve dreamed: shy but so attentive and sweet. He takes such good care of you. It makes you lose your mind a little bit.

“Fuck me,” you insist, and Spencer puts his hands on your hips as he starts to move. He fucks you deep, just the way you need him, and you cry out as he digs into your soft flesh, holding you tight so he can fuck you hard. The way Spencer pounds into you has your whole body trembling, pleasure coursing through you like electricity, till your mouth has fallen open and your toes are curling. 

“You’re so much better than I imagined,” Spencer groans, eyes squeezed shut as he puts all his energy into railing you. “Can’t believe this is real.”

You clench around him just to hear him moan, and you’re proud of yourself when his hips stutter and a groan rips through his throat in his pleasure. He glares at you. You grin, as Spencer keeps fucking you.

“What- Oh, fuck– What did you imagine? With me?” You gasp, as Spencer rolls his hips in a particularly deep thrust.

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut, before looking down at you, like he’s really contemplating if he should say this. “I– I pictured bending you over the interrogation table. Fucking you, making you scream my name, taking you right there, I–”

You moan as Spencer hits that perfect spot inside of you, your legs trembling as you gasp, “I– Why did we have the same fucking fantasy? Fuck–”

“What? You thought of me that way too?” Spencer sounds incredulous, like he can’t imagine you thinking of him that way– As if he isn’t drilling you into the hotel bed right now.

“Fuck, Spencer– Oh, my God– Yeah, I– You had me pinned down on the table, and you were fucking me in the interrogation room, in front of all of them–”

“God, you’re perfect,” Spencer grunts, burying his head in your shoulder as he uses the leverage to fuck you deeper, harder, faster. You can’t stop moaning Spencer’s name, simply too overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you, the way he’s fucking you into the mattress. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Spencer fucking you like a madman, giving you all the pleasure you need but still being greedy enough to take and take and take. 

“Please! Spencer, you– I’m gonna cum, I can’t–” You cry, sobs wracking their way from your throat, so loud but you can’t be bothered to keep yourself quiet. Spencer groans your name, a sweet, sultry sound, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. 

“Cum for me,” Spencer hums. “You’re so perfect, and you’re laid out like this all for me. You’re so fucking hot. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You’re sobbing as your orgasm hits you, overwhelmed by Spencer’s filthy words and his filthier actions, so intense as he fucks you into next week. It’s too good, and you lose yourself much sooner than you expect. Your pussy clenches tight around Spencer with your orgasm, sending him over the edge as he fills you up, cock twitching as he cums inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, his weight comfortable as you both catch your breath. Your mouth feels dry, but you don’t care when Spencer is leaning over to kiss you again. It feels so right, this wild feeling you only thought existed in your dreams.

The next morning when the team is gathered in the hotel lobby to head to the hangar to fly back to Quantico, Emily gives you a pointed look, and Rossi is clapping Spencer on the back with a knowing grin. You apologise sheepishly, while Spencer grows red, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team. He only meets your eyes, and the two of you share a smile. You can tell neither of you want this to end here. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you get back home. 

[lacydollette]

ROUGH SEX WITH YOUR CO-STAR ⸻ jensen ackles

warnings jensen ackles x fem!reader, actor!jensen, actress!reader, age gap, 18+, mdni, dom!jensen, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), forced blow job, hair pulling, choking, p in v (unprotected), praise kink, jensen being freaky asf, wc: 3.8k

The sound of laughter and music filled the bar as you and cast of The Boys gathered around the table, enjoying a rare evening off after a whirlwind of interviews, conventions, and press events promoting the new season. You sat near the edge of the group, a glass of wine in your hand as you watched the scene unfold. You’d been on the road with them for two weeks now, traveling from state to state to promote the show, and despite the exhausting schedule, nights like this made it all worth it.

Especially with your costar Jensen sitting just across the table, his smile lighting up the room, making everyone around him feel at ease. And despite your usual calm aura, he could tell you were taking it all in, probably still adjusting to the chaotic rhythm of show business.

You had joined the cast as the newest love interest for Soldier Boy, Jensen's character, and while you’d been nervous about working with such an established actor— he quickly made you feel comfortable. He was kind, funny, and despite being almost fifteen years older than you, he never treated you like the "new girl."

When you’d first started working together, Jensen was like a mentor to you but soon enough,m he found himself noticing more than just your talent. While you also found yourself noticing things about him—like the way he smiled at you when you two ran lines together or how his hand would linger just a little longer on your arm when you wrapped a scene.

And then, of course, there was the fact that you found him undeniably attractive. Everyone knew Jensen was good-looking, but up close? It was something else entirely. You’d kept it professional, though. He'd just come off a divorce, and the last thing you wanted was to complicate things for him or yourself. Still, there was no denying the chemistry between you two, both on-screen and off. And Jensen wasn't oblivious to the tension that had developed between you over the last few weeks either..

"Hey, y/n," Jensen called from across the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was leaning forward, his voice cutting through the laughters around you. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?" You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, just still getting used to it." Jensen grinned, his eyes glistening in the dim light. "You sure? We've got drinks, great company. Seems like a perfect night to me."

You chuckled, sipping your wine to hide the fact that your heart had started beating just a little faster. He'd been like this all night—talkative, laughing easily, and more physical than usual. His hand had brushed your arm more than once when you talked, and every time, your skin began to burn—in a good way.

As the night wore on, the group started to thin out. Some of the cast heading back to the hotel, but you, Jensen, and a few others stuck around, ordering another round of drinks. The bar was cozier now, quieter, and the low lighting gave it an intimate atmosphere.

So Jensen found himself talking to you more closely, the casual distance between you shrinking without you even realizing it. "So, how are you feeling about everything?" He asked, his voice low as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "The show, all this traveling. It's a lot, huh?"

"Yeah," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "It's been amazing, though. A little surreal, honestly. Sometimes I still can't believe I'm here, working with you guys."

"Well, you're killing it," Jensen said, his eyes locking onto yours. "I mean it, y/n. You've been great this season." Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself. "Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Don't downplay it. You're talented as hell. And...you're fun to work with. Really fun," he added, letting his words hang in the air. He hadn't meant for them to sound as loaded as they did, but now that he'd said it, he found himself holding your gaze a little longer, wondering if you’d caught the shift in his tone.

Your heart raced as you glanced up at him, trying to read his expression. Was he just being friendly? Or was there something more behind his words? "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say, or even if you should say anything at all. But it was hard to ignore the way he was looking at you, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle way his knee brushed against yours under the table.

"You know," he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes never left yours, "I think we've spent more time together on this road trip than we did shooting the season." You laughed softly, grateful for the slight change in topic. "Yeah, but the road trip's been fun. It's nice getting to see different places, meet fans, and, you know, bond with the cast." Jensen's grin widened. "Bond, huh? Is that what we're calling it?" You laughed, clearly trying to brush off the tension. "What else would you call it?"

"Something else entirely," he said, his voice low, a hint of challenge that sent a shiver through you. Before you could respond though, Karl called over from the bar, breaking the moment. Jensen leaned back, laughing at something the others were saying, but his hand lingered on your lower arm, his thumb tracing a small, almost absent-minded circle against your skin. It was such a subtle gesture, but it sent a thrill through you.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on here than just casual flirting. There was tension between the two of you, a pull you couldn't ignore, and you were certain he felt it too. But as much as you wanted to explore whatever this was, you knew you had to be careful. Still, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered every time he looked at you. For now, you’d play it cool. But something told you that whatever was happening between you wasn't going away anytime soon.

Eventually, even the most fun nights had to end. The bar's lights dimmed and everyone decided it was time to call it a night. You all made your way back to the hotel, the cool night air helping to clear your mind, which had been buzzing with thoughts of Jensen all night. When you finally reached your room, you kicked off your shoes and put on your silk pyjamas before flopping onto the bed with a long sigh. The events of the night played in your head—Jensen's teasing remarks, the way he'd stayed close to you, how his touch lingered just a bit too long. There was definitely something there, you could feel it.

But as your thoughts swirled, you suddenly realized something. Your phone. Where was your phone? You shot up, mentally retracing your steps. Then it hit you—you’d given it to Jensen earlier in the night to hold onto because you hadn't brought a purse with you. "Dammit," you muttered, cursing yourself for forgetting. Now you’d have to go to his room and get it back. You groaned inwardly, knowing it would feel awkward after the way you’d been acting all night. But there was no way you could go to bed without your phone.

Reluctantly, you got up, slipped your shoes back on, and headed out of your room. You walked down the hallway, heart thumping a little faster than it should have. You told yourself it was just because you didn't want to bother him this late, but you knew the truth.

It was Jensen.

And the way he made you feel, had you on edge.

When you reached his door, you took a deep breath and knocked. No response. You frowned and knocked again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. You were just about to turn and head back to your room when the door swung open. And there stood Jensen, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, his hair wet and dripping from the shower. He looked at you with those piercing eyes, a playful smirk on his lips, completely unfazed by the fact that he was half-naked in front of you.

Your breath caught in your throat. God, he looked unbelievably sexy. His broad chest was still glistening with water, and your eyes instinctively trailed down over his abs to the towel hanging low on his hips. You were completely overwhelmed, mind scrambling to find words, but all you could do was stand there, staring like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Uh... I—" you stammered, trying to get rid of any filthy thoughts that were coming to you. "I need my phone... I think you have it? I gave it to you earlier at the bar." Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused by the way your cheeks flushed as he smirked. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that," he said, his voice playful. "Come on in. I think I put it on the nightstand."

You hesitated for a split second, heart hammering in your chest, but you forced yourself to move, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, cozy, and the scent of his sweet body wash hung in the air. You tried not to focus on how close he was standing to you as you made your way to the nightstand where your phone sat.

As you reached for it, you could feel his eyes on you, the tension between you almost palpable. You picked up the phone, your hand trembling slightly, and turned to face him. He was leaning casually against the wall now, arms crossed, still wearing nothing but that damn towel. His demeanor was teasing, but there was something else in his gaze too—something that made your pulse race even faster.

"You know," Jensen said, his voice low and smooth, "you could've just called for it. Oh wait," he added with a smirk, "you didn't have your phone." You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "Yeah, a little hard to call without it," you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant but clearly nervous.

Jensen chuckled softly, pushing off the wall and walking toward you, stopping just a few feet away. He looked down at you with that same playful glint in his eyes, the air between you thick with something unspoken. "You sure that's all you came for?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. He saw the hesitation in your eyes, the flicker of doubt, but also curiosity, maybe even a hint of longing.

Your breath hitched. You could feel the tension between you two, the way his gaze held yours, and for a brief second, you wondered what would happen if you just... leaned in. But then reality came crashing back. Jensen had just gone through a divorce. He was vulnerable, and you didn't want to complicate things, not like this. Not now.

You forced yourself to smile, though your heart was still racing. "Yeah," you said, holding up your phone as if to prove your point. "Just needed this." Jensen's eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he stepped back a little, his smirk softening. "Well, you've got it now."

"Thanks," you said quickly, eyes dropping down to the floor as you couldn't bare to look into his piercing green eyes, yet the pull too was strong, so that you raised your head again just seconds later. His eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you standing there, still holding onto your phone like a lifeline. The playful smirk never leaving his face, his voice low and laced with a teasing challenge.

"Yet you're still here."

The words hung in the air between you, thick with tension. You froze, the grip on your phone tightening. Were you imagining things? Misreading him? The way he had been so flirtatious all night, the casual touches, the lingering glances-it couldn't be nothing, could it?

Your mind was spinning, trying to make sense of the situation. You weren’t sure if you were overthinking or if you were too tipsy to trust your own judgment. But the way he looked at you now, like he was daring you to stay, made your pulse race.

He must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because his expression shifted. He moved toward you, closing the distance, his hand finding your waist with an almost deliberate slowness. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and before you could process what was happening, he pulled you just a bit closer.

It was a bold move, one that made your heart skip a beat. You were taken aback, breath hitching in your chest as you looked up at him. His face was inches from yours now, and the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. For a moment, your mind raced with mixed emotions. You knew this could complicate everything. And yet, the pull between you was undeniable.

Jensen's thumb gently brushed your side, his touch grounding you as the intensity of the moment swirled around you. His green eyes bore into yours, and for a split second, you were unsure of what to do. But then, in the next heartbeat, your hesitation melted away. Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a rush of heat and urgency.

The second your mouths touched, it was like a dam had broken. The tension that had been simmering between you all night finally erupted into something raw and electric. Jensen responded immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you fully against him, eager to finally feel you, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

Your mind blurred with a heady mix of desire and disbelief, your hands instinctively finding their way to his bare chest, your fingers grazing his muscles still damp from the shower. You could taste the faint bitterness of alcohol on his lips, and the fact that you were both a little tipsy only seemed to add to the intensity of the moment.

His hands roamed up your sides, one slipping into your hair as the kiss deepened, his body pressing you gently but firmly against the edge of the bed. Your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you softly plunged onto the soft mattress.

You unconsciously bit onto your lower lip as you looked up at him, unholy images replaying in your mind as your gaze fell onto his happy trail, wanting nothing more than to rip that damn towel off of him. Jensen noticed how your eyes stuck to his body just a little too long, eliciting a chuckle out of him, "Go ahead, no need to be all shy now."

For a second, a small ounce of doubt crept into your mind—this was risky, so risky. You two were co-stars, and if anyone found out, it could lead to complications neither of you were ready for. But as Jensen's hand reached down to your chin, grabbing it with his big palm, that doubt vanished, replaced by desire.

You couldn't bare the need for him any longer, immediately getting to work by dropping onto your knees, the anticipation almost killing you as Jensen teasingly began to remove the towel from his hips. His eyes never left yours as he pulled down the white cloth, revealing his already hard cock. The sight of him, made your breath catch in your throat, gulping as you saw how big he actually was.

You came face to face with his length, looking up at him through hooded eyes, "Come on, show me what that pretty mouth can do." He groaned, immediately sending tingles to your core, desperately pressing your thighs together. With easy hands you held him in your soft palms, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the already leaking precum over it.

Pressing your lips together you gathered all your courage and inched closer, sticking out your tongue and licking a stripe all the way from his base to the tip. You repeated this action a few more times, then fully taking him in your mouth as far as you could go.

"Holy fuck, baby." Jensen growled, his head thrown back in pleasure as he couldn't believe how good your wet and warm mouth felt around him, only having imagined it before. You began to swirl your tongue around his cock, jerking off what you couldn't get in your mouth, as he reached to grab a fist full of your hair, yanking you back a little so he could grab at your neck with his other hand.

"You wanna be a good girl for me, right?" He mumbled in between grunts, admiring your plump lips that were so desperately trying to get back to sucking him off. You nodded hastily, this man could literally do anything to you and you’d thank him after.

"Good then, open up wide, baby."

He instantly took advantage of your parted lips and plunged himself down your throat in a swift motion, your eyes widening as you had to gag at the force. "Shhh, relax." Jensen cooed, his voice now softer as he gave you some time to get used to your mouth being full of him.

Once you gave him a small nod he began rolling his hips slowly into your mouth, your hands grabbing at his thighs to steady yourself. It was a weird feeling to have him down your throat so deep but as he continued his movements you began to like it, wanting him to go even harder.

You jerked your face closer to his abdomen, earning a deep and breathless chuckle from him. Realizing how eager you were lapping at his dick he picked up his pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again, driving you crazy.

The built up of saliva and precum that was dripping from the corner of your lips, helped Jensen even more to slide his cock in and out of your warm mouth. His grunts became louder and his hands were gripping the back of your head as he fucked your throat, your moans sending vibrations throughout his body, and he knew that if he continued he wouldn't last any longer.

But cuming just in your mouth tonight wouldn't satisfy him, he needed more. Pulling you off him by your hair you shot him a confused look, scared that he might've changed his mind and didn't want any of this, that it was just the alcohol on which behalf he was acting out, but his words quickly made all your doubts vanish.

"Need to finish inside you, y/n." He said, before pulling you back onto your feet and yanking your small frame onto the silky sheets. Towering over you he ran his hands along the soft fabric of your pyjama shorts, pulling them down harshly as you freed yourself from the little top that was just barely covering your tits anyway.

By the way his eyes widened and the way he pulled some air in sharply, you could tell that he took notice of your dripping wet cunt, already leaking onto the sheets. "Jensen.." you whined, the urge to finally feel him inside taking over you.

"Patience, baby." He smirked up at you, eyes full of lust as he placed some teasing kisses onto the insides of your soft thighs, making you squirm in desperation. Jensen jerked his still glistening cock for a few times, his one hand stayed at your chest, playing with your tit, as he lined himself up with your entrance.

Looking up at you for approval, you nodded which gave him the sign to proceed, his tip brushing over your clit and through your slick folds to lube himself up, before pushing into your needy cunt fast. You gasped at the sudden fullness, his cock stretching out your walls so perfectly, making Jensen grunt as he burried himself completely inside you, as if you were made for him.

"Gosh, look how perfect your pretty cunt is sucking me in. Really needed me that bad, huh?" Your eyes scrunched together, feeling yourself get wetter from his words alone. You rapidly nodded, breathing out a soft "mhm..shit..yes" as he chuckled, leaning down to press open mouthed kisses to your neck.

He was quick to go back to his previous action, rolling his hips smoothly against yours as he picked up his pace, soon slamming into you at an ungodly speed. The almost pornografic noises that came out of your mouth made him chuckle, clearly knowing that there might be some complaints by the morning, but he didn't care.

He kept on pounding into your eager pussy, your legs wrapped around his hips by now, making him hit much deeper, if that was even humanly possible. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.." you cursed underneath your breath, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach screaming for release.

"Cum all over me, sweetheart." Jensen groaned into your ear, his hot breath making your skin prickle. His hand crept down, two of his digits rubbing circles at your clit, causing you to let out a loud, almost scream-like, moan as you released all over him, creaming his cock.

"Fucking shit.." he grunted, teeth pressing into his lower lip as he gave you a few more hard thrusts, pearls of sweat forming on his forehead as he chased his own high. Groaning out loud you felt him twitch inside of you, cuming deep in your cunt, painting your slick walls white.

As both of you calmed down you still couldn't believe that this was actually real, even as Jensen pulled out of you and plopped onto the bed beside you. "Shit y/n, that shower was hella pointless..definitely not complaining though." He laughed, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist, pulling you close.

"Well, screams for a round two then." You replied, stroking his muscular chest. "You mean this or the shower?" He eyed you down, a smirk plastered on his face as he pointed in between you two. You just shrugged, yet the devilish smile plastered on your lips gave it away.

wow this was a wild ride, and i am actually kinda proud of this one !!

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @nuemanfilms @hischrrypie @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @drewsarms @rubyvhs @deansenvy @supernatural-wolfie @sammyluvr @nxptvn @rafecameroninterlude @deansbite

[lilacgaby]

title: gala gone wrong?

pairing: prohero!bakugo x prohero!reader

katsuki was suddenly forced to confront his feelings for you, when you were put in the date auction for charity.

the heroes gala was something katsuki wouldn't look forward to normally. but this year he had a plan. he was going to ask you to be his date.

...originally. he chickened out last minute and owed kirishima 1000 dollars.

he was surprised to see you come alone though, opting to sit next to him which made him fist pump internally. you were a very successful hero who also doubled as a model. for what reason you ask?

none really, you just did it cause days off of hero work were boring. walking runways, topping charts, and beating villains with style was just another day for you.

you looked especially gorgeous this evening though, working with another up and coming designer to design a dress that perfectly complimented everything from your skin color, to you hair, to even references of your quirk.

katsuki suddenly felt underdressed in his suit, but to be fair every hero who was a man was dressed in a suit. except for monoma.

the auction portion of the gala started before the awards were to be given out.

the awards were pretty pointless in katsuki's mind. the only ones that mattered to him were the final rankings of popularity, efficiency, and the overall category.

"you nervous?" you whispered, talking over the first few lower ranked hero's to be auctioned for a date.

"nah, i know i won at least in popularity." he said, trying to keep eye contact with you without stuttering.

"hmm. what if i won? huh?"

"shut up."

she put a hand over her mouth, when suddenly-

"and the last date to be auctioned, a night with the top ranked woman hero [name]!"

"huh? oh that's me!" you said, collecting your dress as you walked to the stage, leaving katsuki blinking in confusion to himself.

you were in this? i mean it shouldn't have been a surprise, you had a rabidly loyal fan base, even since U-A. but what was he supposed to do? bid?

"the bid starts at.. 15,000 dollars." you rolled your eyes and gestured for people to go higher, and they did.

"17,000!"

"20,000!"

"30,000"

numbers were being shouted from all around the room, with the highest bids barely even being able to be tracked. the bids ranged from new heroes who definetly could not afford you, to old men who you really wish couldn't afford you.

you covered your mouth as you let a laugh escape you, this was hilarious to you, you'd have to do this more often.

after a bunch of back and forth, one booming voice cut all the others off.

"500,000 dollars. cash." to your surprise it wasn't an old creep. grand, also known as shindo yo, had suddenly bid. just as they were about to call off the auction and announce shindo the winner,

katsuki's internal dialogue won and 'forced' him to bid too. "750,000 dollars." he declared.

he doesn't think he'd have done it had it been any other idiot who wanted a chance with you, but that loser had to go.

"sold! to dynamite! we've broken a record here folks, 750,000 for the charity of --"

the words faded into the background as he looked up at you, smiling and walking over to him. he felt is heart speed up, his hands drown in sweat, his hair puff out.

"if you wanted to take me out you could've just asked katsuki." you joked, taking him by the hand as you pulled him back to the table towards the back you two were settled in on.

"whatever, now we have an excuse to."

"don't tell me you like me or something katsuki? how embarrassing."

"i told you shut it."

she laughed and settled down, poking him on the cheek. "its okay if you do, i like you quite a lot dynamite."

he flushed red at that, tiny explosions being let out from his hands inadvertently because of how caught off guard he was.

she held his hand under the table, before looking straight ahead to the ceremonies going on in front of them. he smiled and leaned back.

the awards were pretty boring when compared to the view of you, so until they had gotten to the cool stuff he just eyed you.. daydreaming about the life you'll have together someday.

he focused again when the top three heroes in popularity, efficiency, and overall were to be announced by all might.

at the end of the night, not only did he leave with a number one trophy with 'popular vote!' embedded in its side and an all-might signature at the bottom,

he also left with a lipstick mark from you right on his cheek, some flowers, and a small note that read 'see you tomorrow :)'.

[artemiss-moonchild]

.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Welcome to my Tuesday morning PSA about plastics!

So--I was walking along the Bolstadt beach approach sidewalk here in Long Beach, WA yesterday afternoon, and I started seeing these little orange pellets on the ground that looked a little bit like salmon roe (but probably weren't). So I picked one up, and it was most definitely rubber. I went around picking up every one I could find, and while I didn't keep exact count I probably amassed 50-60 of them. I took this picture before depositing them in the nearest trash can.

These are airsoft gun pellets, and you can buy them in big jars containing thousands of them. That means that someone who decided that the beach was a great place to shoot their airsoft guns could easily litter the place with countless little bits of plastic rubber in less than an hour. We already have a huge problem here with people leaving trash, including tiny bits of plastic, all over the beach (you should see the gigantic mess after 4th of July fireworks when thousands of people come in from out of town, blow things up, and then leave again without picking up after themselves.)

But these airsoft pellets have a particularly nasty side effect. You know how my first thought was "wow, those look kind of like salmon roe?" Well, we have a number of opportunistic omnivore birds like crows, ravens, and several species of gull that commonly scavenge on the beach, especially along the approaches because people often feed them there. If I can catch the resemblance of an orange airsoft pellet to a fish egg, then chances are there are wildlife that will assume they're edible.

Since birds don't chew their food, they probably won't notice that the taste or texture is wrong--it'll just go down the hatch. And since they can't digest the pellets, there's a good chance they might just build up in the bird's digestive system, especially if the bird eats a large number of them--say, fifty or sixty of them dropped on the ground along the same fifty foot stretch of sidewalk. The bird might die of starvation if there's not enough capacity for food in their stomach--or they might just die painfully of an impacted gut, and no way to get help for it. If the pellets end up washed into the ocean, you get the same issue with fish and other marine wildlife eating them, and then of course the pellets eventually breaking up into microplastic particles.

You can get biodegradable airsoft pellets; they appear to mainly be gray or white in color rather than bright screaming orange and green. But "biodegradable" doesn't mean "instantly dissolves the next time it rains." An Amazon listing for Aim Green biodegradable airsoft pellets advertise them as "Our biodegradable BBs are engineered to degrade only with long-term exposure to water and sun and will degrade 180 days after being used." That's half a year for them to be eaten by wildlife.

I don't know, y'all. That handful of carelessly dropped rubber pellets just encapsulates how much people don't factor in the rest of nature when making decisions, even on something that is purely for entertainment like an airsoft gun. We could have had a lot of the same technological advances we have today, but with much less environmental impact, if we had considered the long-term effects on both other people and other living beings, as well as our habitats. We could have found ways from the beginning to make these things in ways that benefited us but also mitigated any harm as much as possible. Instead we're now having to reverse-engineer things we've been using for decades, and sometimes--like the "biodegradable" airsoft pellets--they still have a significant negative impact.

But--at least there are people trying to do things better, thinking ahead instead of just on immediate profit. We're stuck in a heck of a mess here, figuratively and literally, and changing an entire system can't be done in a day. Maybe we can at least keep pushing for a cultural shift that emphasizes planning far into the future--if not the often-cited "seven generations ahead", then at least throughout the potential lifespan of a given product.

[orchidbreezefc]

ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.

161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.

imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.

maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.

on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.

and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"

if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?

when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.

also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?

it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.

[batsyheere]

Phantom doesn't trust the Justice League as far as he could throw them- which was a weird statement to make considering, so he might as well say he did not trust them.

First there had been the attempt to exorcise him. That had been done with some very obviously coerced members of Dark, who had eventually been stopped by a panicked Constantine who Phantom now had weekly tea with. (Because Danny needed more ways to defend himself outside of his ghostly abilities, and especially with the attention of the JL now focused on him. Constantine had not put up much of a fight, especially after that incident.)

Following that had been the JL's attempt at peacemaking and finally handling the Anti-Ecto Acts- which had simply sped up the work that Team Phantom had been working on since the majority of their group hit 17 and the threats were more human than ghost. Taking credit for the years of activism and appeal Team Phantom had already made efforts in had soured whatever they wished to gain.

Offering him a place within the teams of Young Justice or the Titans had been another layer of insult when they tried to pressure him into some sort of mentorship- Phantom very much was insulted by the implications that he needed any such help after the years of being left to fend for himself. And the implications that they thought they could control and observe him now.

The final straw was their invitation to join the Justice League itself.

"I don't know about you," Phantom drawls, tone almost apathetic as his head leans against his fist. He was hovering in the air, sat back in a pose his little sister often called his "I'm dealing with idiots and politics" posture. "But if I've repeatedly rejected and ignored an individual who asked for help, then ignored their requests to leave them be... well, I wouldn't assume they would wish to join your club and be pleased by it."

"King Phantom," Wonder Woman begins, one of the few who actually had any sense. She looks exhausted.

Another member, one of the Green Lanterns whose names Danny couldn't be bothered with after some rather volatile debates with the dead of Oa, cuts her off.

"Look, kid, you're being offered something most other heroes only dream of being offered-"

"Most other people have to be recommended or apply to join the League, or otherwise be ignored and left to handle situations such as a chunk of the Midwest sinking into the Infinite Realms through the directions of a tyrannical conqueror seeking to gain access to the mortal world."

Silence. There were a few winces, as well as a few heroes who were glancing nervously towards Superman who was frowning.

"Look, we've obviously made mistakes-" the man in blue begins. Phantom cuts him short as well.

"A mistake is dismissing a call about ghosts as a prank," he states. "A mistake is making assumptions based off the research of science and believing it to be true."

He sat up, crown flaring above his head with frost as the temperature in the room dropped.

"What you have done is blatantly allow a government to persecute and prepare acts of genocide, while ignoring the evidence and pleas of the people you swear to protect. You then proceed to ignore the word of those who have stood the line of defence and resolve the matter without any representation of the voices that fought long enough to be heard."

"What would you have us do."

It was Batman who spoke up. While not his favorite member of the League, Phantom could appreciate the fact that the man had been left out of most of the formal decision making on these matters- even Amity Park had heard of the strange mass outbreak of Arkham residents spilling into Gotham- something that had not happened in quite a while. It had kept Batman and his associate busy enough to keep away from League business, in an effort to keep the chaos contained to Gotham's borders.

But Batman had many issues and Phantom had very little care for them.

"At this time? Move on. The situation is handled, and those who have not screwed up diplomatic matters are informed and may keep contact. We want no further ties to the Justice League or it's members at this time."

[reasonsforhope]

"In short: Thailand's Senate has approved a bill legalising same sex marriage in the South-East Asian country.

It will afford same-sex couples practical benefits such as being able to have children through IVF and make emergency medical decisions for their spouse.

What's next? The first weddings may take place later this year, 120 days after the law is announced in the Royal Gazette.

Thailand has become the first nation in South-East Asia to legalise same sex marriage, with the country's Senate approving the landmark bill this afternoon.

The legislation was expected to pass after it cleared the country's House of Representatives in a near-unanimous vote in March.

Despite Thailand's bustling gay bars and prominent transgender community making it a mecca for LGBTQ+ tourists, until now local same-sex couples there have been unable to marry.

The law will take effect 120 days after its announcement in the Royal Gazette, so the first same sex weddings may take place later this year.

Couples who have been waiting years have hailed the move as a historic moment that will afford them rights only reserved for spouses.

A Lifechanging Law

Photos of Anticha and Worawan [including the article picture], dressed in floor-length white gowns and trailed by rainbow flags, getting married at Bangkok's first Pride Festival two years ago went viral, but they are still not legally married.

Now they will be able to change that, and Anticha Sangchai is elated.

"This will change my life and change many Thai people's lives, especially in the LGBT community," she said.

"It is a historical moment and I really want to join with my community to celebrate this moment.

"I want to send a message to the world that Thailand has changed. Even though there are still many issues, this is a big step for us." ...

There were an estimated 3.7 million LGBT people in Thailand in 2022, according to LGBT Capital, a private company which models economic data pertaining to the community around the world.

For the young couple from Bangkok, being able to marry also has very real practical implications.

If they want to have children through IVF, Ms Sangchai says they will need a marriage certificate first.

"I am quite concerned about the time because we are getting older every day, and the older you get the more difficult it is to have a healthy pregnancy," she said.

"So we've been really wanting this law to pass as soon as possible."

Cabaret performer Jena is excited Thailand's laws are finally catching up with the nation's image...

She too had worried about the practical implications of being unable to marry.

"For example, if myself or my partner had to go to hospital or there was an accident that needs consent for an emergency operation, without a marriage certificate we couldn't sign it," she said.

She now wants the government to move forward with a law to allow transgender people to amend their gender on official documents." ...

An Economic Boost?

Thailand has long been famous for LGBTQ tourism and there are now hopes this new law could allow the country to cash in on the aging members of the community.

Chaiwat Songsiriphan, who runs a health clinic for people in the LGBTQ community, said laws preventing same sex marriage were the last barrier holding the country back from becoming a gay retirement hub.

[Note: They do not just mean for rich westerners; Thailand as a gay retirement hub would probably appeal most to and definitely benefit LGBTQ people from throughout Asia.]

"Thailand has an LGBTQ-friendly environment since Thai culture is quite flexible," he said.

"One of my foreigner friends, a gay friend, told me that when he's in his country he has to pretend to be straight … but when he comes to Bangkok he said you can be as gay as you want.

"When we talk about retirement or a long-term stay for the rest of their lives, what people need is … food, good healthcare services, transportation, homes.

"I think Thailand has it all at a very affordable price."

He said it could help give the country a desperately needed economic boost.

"This will have a lot of benefits for Thailand's economy because when we talk about retirement it's people literally bringing all the money they have earned for the rest of their working lives to spend and invest here," he said.

He said he, like the rest of the community, was thrilled by the news.

"It's not about a privilege, it's just equality," he said.

"We are we also humans, so we should be able to marry the one we love.""

-via ABC Australia, June 18, 2024

[the-greatest-magic-of-all]

Since it's coming up on the first anniversary of FH: Junior Year, I've been thinking about that hypothetical (probably unlikely) fourth season, and I really think it should be set during the Bad Kids' High School Reunion. Especially after MisMag 2, I feel like the storytelling opportunities just compound if the Intrepid Heroes had the space to let the Bad Kids' circumstances change more drastically than they would if they did a Senior Year or even a Homecoming.

Like, you could totally still have the first episode set in their Senior Year, and have it be on their Graduation Day. The Bad Kids could have all of their sweet, sentimental moments that you'd want to see (while also setting up the season's Big Bad, ala The Seven) and have the six of them (Fig crashes the Grad Party) take a group picture photo.

All of them are filled with so much hope and aspirations before hard cutting to ten years later and meet all of them in their late twenties (thirty for Fabian), and they are doing... not horribly, but we've seen what Spyre's like for teen adventurers. What's it like for a bunch of adults who used to or still do adventure??

How much have the Bad Kids grown? How much have they backslid into their old ways? How much do they keep in touch, and who are the ones who are still closest after high school?

How does Fig feel about getting older and maybe losing some of that teenage rebellion? How does Kristen deal with actually having a congregation that's counting on her? How often does Gorgug think about killing his new boss, Arthur Aguefort? How exhausted is Adaine in the midst of the Wizard equivalent of a Doctorate (and her mother still evading her and Aelwen)? How badly does Riz need this reunion because adventuring without his best friends just isn't the same? AND most importantly...

How many divorces is Fabian Aramais Seacaster on, and why is it two?