#i only had one requirement for the movie:

[ramshacklefey]

Wait hang on this actually got me thinking about the stuff that leads up to Waternoose (ohhhh shit I just got his name wow) being held accountable:

Mike and Sully realize that the narrative of human children being dangerous is false.

They act against social and legal standards to protect Boo.

They discover that Randall is acting to exploit children in the interests of the company.

They try to inform Waternoose of Randall's actions and discover that he is complicit in them, claiming that he is doing it to protect society from the disaster of having insufficient resources.

They decide to act against Waternoose, the interests of the company, and possibly the interests of their society as a whole, because all of those things are dependent on causing harm to and exploitation of another group.

The government agency responsible for protecting Monster society from the perceived "danger" of human children acts to reveal Waternoose's corruption and hold him accountable, again in spite of the fact that this will destroy the company and cost Monster society their main source of energy.

Mike and Sulley realize that there is an alternative form of energy available that is better than Scream and doesn't require exploiting others.

THE KEY ELEMENT HERE IS THE HEAD OF THE CDA ACTING AGAINST WATERNOOSE.

Roz could have turned a blind eye to Waternoose because his plan would benefit their society in the short term. She had the power to do that. But she chose her duty to protect society from corruption and greed over everything else.

That's what allowed Mike and Sulley to use their new knowledge to improve their society's well-being and prevent the harm being done by the collection of Scream.

Without Roz, Waternoose would have gotten rid of Sulley and Mike, preventing them from realizing that there was an alternate source of energy available. The Scream Extractor was already a solution to the problem, and it's one that fit in with the social belief that children are dangerous!

So, what's the takeaway here?

It's that social/political changes will only come about if:

Ordinary citizens have the knowledge needed to find new ways of doing things;

Those citizens are willing to act against social norms and powerful people to protect others. (And potentially to act on their discoveries. Mike and Sulley had all the pieces they needed to discover the power of laughter before Waternoose was gone. In the story, it didn't come to this, but we can imagine a scenario where they tried to set up a new business in competition to Waternoose.); AND

Those with the power to regulate and hold accountable people like Waternoose actually do so.

When it comes to many current problems in our society, we already have the first two things in place. Our Waternooses are actively working to prevent Number 3 from being a thing. They're to get rid of Number 1 by destroying education systems. They're trying to get rid of Number 2 by convincing people that they're invincible and necessary to the functioning of our society. That there's no hope for change and that trying to change will hurt everyone.

If we want to change things, we have to stop them from doing that. And we can. We have the means to work from the bottom up, to educate and encourage others, and to start forcing that change.

And damn if a kids' movie from 2001 didn't manage to say all that. (I give the corporates who funded the movie no credit for agreeing or supporting that message, but the writers and animators who managed to get the movie past them.)

[haveihitanerve]

Batboys centric in which they come to the realization that Bruce is pretty (not romantically, the kind of pretty when you look at your mom's wedding photos and see her in an amazing dress).

Bruce isn't used to people seeing him as pretty, but her Brucie Wayne persona because that's the whole point of it.

ohohoho i have a hunch this is you and also this is sooooo interesting... lemme see what i got-

“Do you want to come to the tavern with me?” 

The words caught Dick off guard. Both because he hadn’t heard anyone say “tavern” in years, and because Bruce had said it.

“Um?” He glanced up from where he was sprawled over the couch, looking away from his phone. “Yeah? Sure?”

Bruce hummed, reaching up a hand as though to run it through his hair, then thought better of it, and dropped it again. For good reason too.

Dick tripped as he stood, eyes glued to his father, blown wide. Bruce frowned, glancing down at himself.

“What's wrong?” He asked, concerned.

Dick’s cheeks burned and he ducked under Bruce’s arm, heading up the stairs. “Nothing, nothing, I’m just gonna get changed.” He muttered, hurrying up the stairs and ducking behind the corner.

Because what the fuck.

Dick peeked back out, daring a glance back down the stairs at his Dad.

Bruce was wearing a loose fitted light pink tank top, tucked half heartedly into deep navy slacks, hair styled away from his face in a way that clearly revealed his age.

It wasn’t to say that Dick had never seen his Dad in different versions of undressed. Quite the contrary. Their line of work required levels of nudity, whether while dressing an injury, showering, or working their secret identity personas.

But this… Dick shook his head, heading to his room to grab some clothes to change into.

Bruce was… pretty. 

The next time it happened, Dick had witnesses. Jason and Tim were sitting in the den with him, pretending to watch a movie.

Truly, only Jason was actually focused on the story, as it was a movie that had come out when he’d been dead, but Tim would look up on occasion, usually only to draw Jason into a quick debate before dropping his attention back to his phone.

Dick himself was listening to the movie like an audiobook, a real book propped up halfheartedly on his stomach.

“Tim, could you help me quickly?” Bruce called, a moment before he entered the den.

Tim dropped his phone, eager for an excuse to have some work to do, faltering only for a second when he realized the task wasn't case work. No, instead it was much much worse.

Dick lifted his book, cheeks burning, as Jason stared, eyes wide, jaw dropped.

Tim, however, seemed completely unbothered, hands moving quickly and effortlessly to help Bruce out before he dropped back into the seat.

Bruce ruffled his hair with a light smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Thanks Timmy. Boys.” He nodded at his eldest and exited again.

“Tim.” Jason hissed the second he was out of hearing, and Dick dropped his book.

Tim, who had returned to his phone, completely unruffled, glanced up, frowning when he spotted their gagged expressions. “What?” He asked, puzzled.

“You just-” Jason floundered.

“You just helped lace Bruce up in a corset.” Dick hissed. Tim blinked, mind whirring.

“Yes?” He finally agreed, still perplexed. “And this is important because…??”

“He’s pretty.” Jason scowled.

Tim laughed. “Guys, you do realize that our Dad is Bruce Wayne right??? The guy who wins every fashion contest? The guy our classmates call hotter than Superman?? The one person where guys go “i’m not gay but…” and girls go “i’m not straight but…” That Bruce Wayne, yeah?”

Dick scowled. “Yes. We’re aware. I’ve had to deal with those comments about him for much longer than you ever have.” He shot petulantly.

Tim raised his hands, brows furrowed. “Then what's the big deal???”

“We know he’s hot.” Jason snapped. “But he’s… he’s just.” He looked at Dick for help.

“He’s never been pretty.” Dick supplied. “Hot, yeah sure, handsome, okay, sexy, ugh, fine. But- but pretty??? He can’t leave the house like that. My ears will never recover.”

Jason nodded his agreement, looking like a grim military general at war and not a child discussing his fathers attraction level.

Tim looked at both of them, laughed, and propped his feet up on the table, picking up his phone again, chuckling like a supervillain.

“Oh man. And y’all haven't even seen him in a dress yet.” 

um. so.. okay. Firstly, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I just uh have been really busy and unmotivated and yeah im so sorry 😭- secondly, this is not like, even close to what you asked... and i also apologize for that, but i figured better late than never? and its like... kind of in line with what you asked so... yay? anyway sorry and here and hope you like it even tho its not what you asked :)

[drowning-rabbit]

fuck it, i love you

spencer reid x celebrity!reader

chapter one: i like to see everything in neon

word count: 1.6k

plot summary

chapter summary: the calm before the storm - you meet spencer reid at an art gallery and he makes you question your view on life in less than twenty minutes.

Pretending is easy. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself the majority of adulthood. At 25, you had been cruising through milestones in a convertible, with the top down and the wind blowing. Making it as a public figure never seemed attainable until it was in front of your eyes. Poor kids don’t get famous, and your situation was inopportune at best. Childhood wasn’t easy, but lo and behold: here was a thriving career in your mid-20s, launched by a recurring role in a dramatic romance series.

Except it wasn’t all that easy. The series wasn’t perfect, and it required a lot more intense scenes than you had hoped. But it had kickstarted your fame, and Michael said it was too early to leave. You had worked relentlessly to get here with no one close to your side. Parker was nice, and had been a great friend since college. He was always busy curating, though. Pinky was… there. Mags had been around constantly but was a bit clingy, and Michael, your manager, was a delight. That was it. Hollywood was lonely, and you had given up the concept of real friends entirely. Although every single available person threw themselves at your feet, no one had treated you as an equal. There were no friends in business; only colleagues. Most anyone would stab a knife into your back for an opportunity at more money and fame. Some pretended to be nice, while others were outright rude. Pinky was one of the rude ones. Although interesting to be around, she was a narcissist and constantly brought you down. She also had a thing for older men - which was odd considering her preference for dating women.

Parker had asked you to attend his latest exhibit, accompanied by Pinky. She was a featured artist. You arrived before the crowd in order to avoid most of the paparazzi, and now walked with him and Pinky through the exhibit. Cameras were not allowed inside, so you were safe from prying eyes. He explained some of the featured pieces to you, but was quickly distracted by someone he recognized.

“Spencer! Spencer Reid! Dude! Look at you!” He yelled over to two men in corporate clothing. One was older, middle-aged. His hair was greying and his expression was solemn. He looked like he had seen a lifetime of sadness. Pinky would latch on quickly. The other was possibly the most beautiful man currently in the state of California. He had the sweetest brown eyes, slightly overgrown hair, and an apprehensive smile. He looked hesitant, like he didn’t want to see Parker. That must be Spencer Reid. The name bounced around in your head like the DVD-idle screen that played during late nights in your apartment. He stood awkwardly with his hands nestled into his dress pants, his polka dot button up covered by a grey vest and a sleek black tie.

“You look just the same. Look at you, dude. Nothing’s changed. Spencer was the only 12 year old in our graduating class. Just the same.” Parker smiled genuinely at the pretty man. His name hit the corner of your brain’s TV screen and it clicked. Spencer Reid, graduated high school at twelve years old. A man that looked like a modern Adonis but walked with the air of a childhood prodigy. Clearly intelligent, equally awkward. Beautiful. Pretending was easy - you remembered to feign disinterest. After staring at him for a few minutes, you gave up on enjoying peace of mind and walked around the gallery with Pinky. It seemed like everything out of her mouth was contemporary, which explained the nature of her pieces. You pretended to pay attention, but Spencer still lingered in your thoughts until you heard Parker call your name.

“Guys, come on.” He motioned to Spencer and the other man as they approached you. “Spencer, you ever meet a real movie star?” He asked as Spencer eyed you up and down. When he met your gaze, he realized what he was doing and quickly looked away. You kept your eyes on him.

“Movie star? Please, she's got one role on a television series about weird kinky romance. Totally blue collar,” Pinky added from beside you. You chuckled a bit and introduced yourself, refusing to let eye contact break when Spencer looked back at you.

“Hi, I'm... I'm doctor Spencer... Reid. I'm Spencer. You don't have to... call me doctor.” He stuttered through his introduction and squinted like he offended himself.

“I won't.. Spencer.” You grinned widely to convince him to lighten up a little. You were interrupted by several flashes of a camera, so Parker excused himself.

“Hey you! I told you! No photos in the gallery! All right? Out!” You sighed deeply before reaching out to grab a glass of champagne off of a tray. Paparazzi always got in the way of everything. It was hard to say acting was worth it when privacy was never an option. Sure, you loved your job, but at what cost? When was it all enough? Pretending is easy, so you pretended not to care.

“So... you're not from around here, are you?” You asked Spencer, giving him another award-winning smile. He wasn’t used to it all, and despite the awkward facade, he was shockingly easy to talk to. His hesitance to be in the limelight gave you a sense of camaraderie. It was fun to be the center of attention, but easier to blend in to the crowd. Talking to him made you feel normal, like you could have a real friend.

“Me? No.” He shook his head firmly. “No, I'm... We're running a training service about profiling for the Los Angeles police department.”

“Profiling?” You questioned. So much for a friend. He was a narc.

“Yeah, I'm with the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI. We psychoanalyze crime scenes in order to gain a better understanding of the criminal’s thought process,” He explained, crossing his arms over his chest. Oh, so maybe not as bad. He wasn’t any harm to you, anyway. It couldn’t hurt to entertain the possibility of connection. Pretending was easy, lying to yourself was a different story. And you couldn’t possibly lie about your attraction towards this man. You wondered if he could tell.

“Psychoanalyze, huh?” You watched his eyes as they averted your gaze, his cheeks still an endearing shade of pink. You wanted to see him turn red.

“Are you doing that to me right now?” You giggled as you watched his color turn. Bingo.

“What? no! I'm not psychoanalyzing you. I'm just…” He was so pretty.

“I'm kidding.” You said gently, unable to stop yourself from making sure he was comfortable. “Do you mind if I?” You reached out a hand and waited for him to take it.

He paused for an uncomfortably long period of time, staring at your well-manicured hand extended out towards his. He blinked once, twice, three times, as if trying to convince himself of something. He swallowed and closed his eyes, and you watched the trail of his Adam’s apple. When you looked up, he shook his head before opening his eyes and lacing his fingers through yours. You led him to one of the paintings on the wall while trying to hold his hand as gently as possibly. Physical contact seemed to be difficult for him, and it made you giddy that he was willing to trust you blindly. After a moment, you spoke again.

“Does it make you feel anything?” you gestured towards the painting in front of you. It was mostly dark, but splotches of neon light painted the canvas in an endearing way. It reminded you of Hollywood. When the lights were so bright, it was easy to forget the darkness lingering behind the scenes.

“Like what?” He tilted his head in curiosity, and you melted.

“I can't tell you how to feel. I can tell you I like to see everything in neon, and the lime green reminds me of partying. Fame is hard, but it’s easy to deal with. You just have to let go and live a little” You squeezed his hand a little, and he looked down before you heard a reply.

“Right now, I feel pretty good.” He squeezed your hand back. “You know, there’s other ways to cope. Maybe I can..”

“We're leaving.”

Spencer abruptly let go of you as the man from earlier tapped his back. He seemed to flinch as he realized what he was doing by touching you.

“We're still looking at the exhibit,” He protested, wiping the hand that held yours onto his pants. Was he trying to get rid of your germs? He could be a germaphobe, since you knew nothing about him. In fact, it was kind of odd to be holding the hand of someone you met twenty minutes ago. Then again, it was also odd for an FBI profiler and a television actress to meet in the middle of an art gallery. And it was odd that meeting this unusual man had been the most interesting event in your life in a long time.

“Now. Now, now.” The older man was in an urgent rush. He had left with Pinky earlier, which meant she was up to her antics again.

“Yeah, I guess we're leaving, so...” He looked you up and down, but made no move to leave.

“Reid, now.” At this, he started away from you. Fucking Pinky.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer Reid.”

“Bye!” He turned and smiled back at you, waving quickly. You only hoped you would see him again. Pretending was easy, so you pretended it didn’t matter.

[tinkerbellknockoff]

chemistry // jinx x fem!reader

chemistry // college!jinx x fem!reader

you've never been the greatest at sciences- you were aware of that. being placed into general chemistry to fulfill a lab requirement for college forced you to face your fears: writing lab reports and talking to pretty teacher assistants.

- college au

warnings: cursing

-- a/n: gonna be slightly projecting when talking about how bad reader is at chemistry lol

you thought the cliche chemistry professor that made absolutely no sense was only for the movies. but sitting here on a stool, watching the professor measure and start mixing chemicals that you couldn't even catch the name of made you flabbergasted and honestly- a little bit annoyed.

at your university, you were required to take one semester of a laboratory class. that's only about what- four months? you thought that was going to be a breeze- just get it out of the way, and you'll never have to touch a science class again! hopefully.

it had been about two-ish weeks of your general chemistry class, and by whatever is holy... you were miserable. unfortunately for you, your lab partner seemed to be on the same wavelength as you: massively confused. which, in a way, could be comforting because hey- you're not alone! on the other hand... your grades are screwed. and, unfortunately, you actually cared about your gpa.

the second half of your misery came from the fact you loathed asking for help. throughout high school, it was a breeze being able to figure out solutions to all of your problems, but now... you basically had to find every single resource that could help you. and, unfortunately, none of them did. you've never felt more lost in your life, which is how you have led to your position now.

slipping your backpack over your right shoulder, you then lightly draped your lab coat over your arm as you walked up to your chemistry professor. you decided it was finally time for you to ask for help- and by god, did it take some encouragement. there were still a few stragglers in the room- there being the professor, you, a couple of your peers, and the gorgeous blue-haired teacher assistant.

her name was jinx. she was recommended by another chemistry professor- professor silco, if you remember his name right- which gave her the job opportunity to ta a few general chemistry classes. honestly, she had helped you out a couple of times- she was a saint.

on the other hand, she terrified the living hell out of you. jinx, in the simple two weeks that you have spent in this general chemistry lab (two times per week, so maybe four times in the lab total) showed how... chaotic she was. in the first class, she was idly lounging around in random spots of the classroom, sitting on tables with littered chemical substances, and playing with one of the bottles in her hands. you remember, in that class, she seemed bored since it was simply laboratory rules and basics- but ever since the class started doing experiments? she seemed like the happiest girl in the world.

the professor made pretty basic explanations to questions he was asked- he was a little sassy, though. he'd say your name repeatedly, chastising you, then go, "haha! i am joking. wasn't that funny?"

... no. it was never funny.

then jinx. she would quickly prance to you the second you had your hand raised, entering your personal space as she would begin rapidly explaining, and would sometimes even begin doing the experiment for you. you loved it when that happened. honestly, even throughout that chaotic nature, she would explain things decently well. she talked a lot, but she was still able to deliver her understanding pretty well. you admired her for that.

even though she was incredibly helpful, in all honesty- you hated when she would be the one to come after you raised your hand.

she was too pretty. you couldn't focus.

"well, toots," is how she would always begin the explanation for you. you couldn't quite catch if she called literally anyone else that, but it was almost humorous how she always started off with those two words. you almost felt special. then, it would be how she'd lightly grab your hips to move you out of her way so she'd be able to access the experiment better- and even with you on the side, her side would still be brushing yours.

when she spoke, she never spoke to both you and your lab partner. her pink eyes seemed to stare you down. you were too scared to break the eye contact, and the more you reciprocated the staring the more entertained she seemed to be, her violet eyes swirling. you couldn't take it.

that happened every. single. time.

and every single time you felt like you were going to burst.

so, talking to the professor, you hoped to god he would just offer his office hours.

"hello, professor," you spoke, eventually standing in front of his desk, and he turned to look at you. he gave a smile (a little bit chaotic, you thought this profession was great for him), and he said your name in greeting.

"how can i help you?"

"i was hoping there would be some sort of office hours i could go to..." you spoke, swallowing your pride, "i was looking for some help with the lab reports and saw that your office hours were for request only."

he hummed in acknowledgment, giving you an understanding look, "okay. have you checked the tutoring center?"

you nodded, "yeah. all of the open tutoring sessions for gen chem are all when i have other classes."

"that sucks a ton, toots."

her voice came out of what seemed like nowhere. the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, but you kept your seemingly relaxed demeanor as you turned your head into her direction, her eyes automatically locking onto yours. she already had a chaotic grin on her face, her pink eyes swirling with entertainment, "i could help ya out."

the professor seemed to not care for jinx's bubbly behavior, "could you, jinx? your times would possibly be more flexible than mine."

.... fuck.

jinx eagerly nodded, "don't worry about it. would be an honor to give a pretty girl some help!"

was that appropriate to say?

the professor didn't have a care in the world as he thanked jinx, and then waved you two off, telling them to go schedule times to be able to meet, and giving the reassurance that he would be able to for extra support if you needed it.

you walked out of the lab, jinx seeming hot on your tail. she loosely grabbed her bag along the way, it hanging off her shoulder in a similar fashion to yours. eventually, in the hallway, you turned to face her properly. all you had to do was schedule some times, leave, eventually actually do the meetings, then bam! you're done! don't have to be threatened by a pretty girl no longer!

"so, toots. wanna talk about times over dinner?" jinx winked at you.

you had to take a sharp inhale after that. oh my gosh? was this professional? was this allowed? you don't think she cared. at all, actually.

"cat got your tongue?" jinx looked amused at your silence, her violet eyes staring at your expression, looking like a deer in headlights. "you're very expressive."

you cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment. takes one to know one. eventually, you found your words, "... fine. right now?"

you got it! look, you can talk to her. nice and easy!

her entertained expression and grin never left her face as she nodded her head, her bright blue hair bouncing in the movement. "i mean, when else could i possibly catch ya?"

"i dunno, email exists." you retort, you don't see her the reason for her to insist on going out to dinner to make plans.

"boring!" jinx continued grinning at you. doesn't her face ever start to hurt, "we can just go to the dining hall! c'mon, toots, don't be a snoozefest."

and to that, you finally caved in. her excitement seemed to elevate even more than it originally was as she started to basically bounce off the walls (not really, you're being dramatic), grabbing your hand. you were practically yanked, having to hold the lab coat in your arm tighter to make sure it didn't get dropped on the way. she energetically spoke to you the entire way, effortlessly guiding you, not caring if you were stumbling at any moment. you were surprised her relatively small statue had this much muscle. she was acting like she took 5 shots of expresso and did a line of coke.

hopefully, she didn't actually do that.

she kept rambling your head off as you both waited in line for your food. your dining hall offered an assortment of shops, which led you to get pasta, and right now you were waiting in line for the burger shop next to jinx. she eventually let your hand go, but you noticed over time that she always was touching you in some fashion. right now, her bicep was brushing against yours, her head tilted in your direction as she rambled on about some sort of engineering project she had taken up. you learned through her talking that she was a biochemical engineering major. so, basically, she was super smart. you're a psychology major, which caused her to erupt in a small fit of laughter when you told her,

"so what are you doing in chemistry, toots?! why not take like... i dunno, meteorology!"

that elicited a pout from you, scoffing, causing jinx to look at you with amusement in her eyes as she laughed harder, "you're so funny, toots! i couldn't get enough of you."

she was proving her statement.

you and jinx ate dinner together, and after some coaxing of the conversation, you got her to agree to a few study sessions over the next couple of months. every other sunday you two would meet up at the library, and have about a two-hour session covering the content from the prior two weeks. that sounded fair enough. you didn't know if two hours was necessary, but jinx insisted, believing that was the "sure way to shove everything into your noggin". you were humored by her wording of it.

even after you both had long finished your food, she insisted on sitting with you for a little bit longer, claiming that she was having the time of her life getting to know you. her behavior made you so flushed- but you tried your damned hardest to refrain from it showing. you tried desperately to act nonchalant, which jinx continuously called your bluff on, leading you to be super defensive, to which she would continue to tease you more.

"c'mon, toots!" jinx giggled. she was sitting across from you at a table, her elbow resting on top and her hand holding her head as she kept her other hand on the table, tapping her nails rhythmically, "tell me more about ya."

you were reclined back, slightly hunched in the seat as you hummed thoughtfully. your arms were crossed in front of you, which jinx found humorous. she could tell you were still a little bit shy.

"what do you want to know?" you humored jinx.

"anything. anything at all, as long as it's about you," jinx winked in your direction, her eyes never once leaving your direction, "... any... boyfriend?"

that question startled you. your eyes met hers once more. she was lightly chewing on the bottom of her lip, her eyes basically devouring you as she waited for your answer in anticipation. jinx's breath basically hitched in her throat with excitement as you shook your head,

"no. broke up with my girlfriend before college."

jinx clearly seemed giddy after your statement, only a blind man wouldn't be able to tell. you examined her behavior after, blinking, your thoughts finally catching up to you.

holy shit. you basically felt yourself erupt into flames, could she like me?

"aww, damn, toots!" jinx said, but the sympathy rolling off her tongue was feigned, "that sucks. any reason why?"

you shrugged, sitting up and fixing your posture, folding your elbows onto the table and leaning forward. "wasn't a good fit. you live and you learn, i guess. what can you do?"

jinx understood, her thoughts racing with pure excitement. jinx realized she had a chance- and she wasn't the one to let chances slip up.

so, for the next couple of months, she used the tutoring sessions as an excuse to get to know you. she would claim every half hour that you two had to take a break, and then ask you questions about your day, your week, and everything that could come to mind. you warmed up to her behavior, which made her feel so elated- you began to reciprocate all of her talking. she loved talking to you.

so, when your last session came, jinx was bummed. jinx stared at you longingly, which you didn't seem to notice as you flipped through the data you had gathered during your most recent lab, scanning between it and the lab report, making sure that you didn't miss anything important. you, with the help of jinx, were doing stellar in chemistry. you couldn't have thanked jinx more.

you brought your bag up onto your lap to grab a few folders, slipping the papers inside, packing up. jinx continued to stare at you longingly, her pink eyes unusually soft as she stared you down. eventually, you glanced up, meeting her eyes. she quickly changed her expression, looking more neutral.

"jinx, i really thank you enough," you spoke up, her heart soaring at the praise. but that elation dropped as she saw you stand up, causing her to quickly follow behind, moving to walk beside you as you two began to leave the library.

"it was really nothing, toots. what was i meant to do, let a pretty girl like you fail?"

those words sounded like something she said at the very beginning of all this. that caused a laugh to slip out of your lips as you bumped your shoulder gently with hers. she pushed the door open for the two of you, the cold winter air hitting the two of you in a gust.

walking a little further away from the door, you two stopped and stared at each other for a moment. jinx for once felt the words catch in her throat as her eyes met yours. you looked so cute, your nose slightly turning red from the winter air hitting your face.

you noticed her gaze. her pupils were blown as she was dead silent, something very uncharacteristic for jinx, causing you to examine her eyes with yours. when she noticed this, she met your gaze, both of you seeming to devour each other with your eyes, before you cleared your throat.

"so, this is it, huh?" you sheepishly giggle, holding onto the straps of your side satchel. your words, as corny as it is to say, almost broke jinx's heart on the spot then. it was just tutoring- why did she feel like it was the end of the world?

"... i hope it's not." jinx spoke, her voice abnormally quiet. your eyebrows rose at her unusual demeanor, your head tilting and causing your hair to flow to the side. jinx's eyes looked over every single one of your movements, absolutely infatuated with the way you moved- the way you were you.

no one had ever been any more perfect in her eyes.

"how do you mean?"

jinx cleared her throat, "would it be bad if i did something right now? that... you may or you may not like?"

your eyebrows furrowed at the question. what the hell did that mean? but, as your lips parted, you weren't given the option to question her as she grabbed the sides of your face with her clammy and cold hands, smashing her lightly chapped lips against your soft ones.

the kiss was startling for you, your eyes open wide in shock, being able to see the way that jinx so harshly had her eyes closed, her hands keeping you right against her. as if you would slip through her fingers. so, after finding your bearings, you finally closed your eyes, relaxing as you began to reciprocate the kiss.

jinx felt like she was on cloud nine, holding you as tightly as possible against her. your lips tasted like heaven to her, her being able to taste the chapstick that she saw you always use, one that she always watched glaze over your lips. she was doing what she fantasized about doing for so fucking long.

and to her excitement, you were kissing her back.

after a few moments, she parted the kiss panting. both of your eyes fluttered open as you both lightly panted, small puffs of white smoke leaving your mouths. you locked eyes with hers, both of your pupils blown wide. you were both impossibly close to each other, allowing you to hear jinx's faint whisper,

"i like you," her eyes scanned over your face, "a lot."

a laugh left your mouth. she loved hearing your laugh- but in this context, it almost made her petrified until she saw the bright smile that was on your lips.

"i like you, too."

[musings-of-a-rose]

Could I request Benny x female reader where they engage in mutual masturbation and they make out throughout?

Touch

Pairing: Benny Miller x best friend f!reader

Word Count: 1900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Listen. This was a hot ask. I'll admit, I had to think on this one a bit (and that was mostly staring at the wall). A huge thanks to @mermaidxatxheart as usual for listening to my Ted Talks and insecurities.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“The date went bad I take it?” Benny’s eyebrows are raised as he motions for me to come inside his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I huff.

“He kept taking out his phone and texting. His mom. He was giving her a play by play of our date.”

Benny chuckled. “What? During your date?”

I kick off my heels and set them on his shoe mat. “I’m all for strong family bonds, but maybe wait until after the date? I could barely talk to him. It was literally every 2 minutes.”

Benny chuckled again. “Well I’m sorry it sucked. You’re welcome to come finish this terrible movie I’m watching.”

I follow Benny to his couch, plopping down next to him. We’d been best friends for years. He was always someone I could count on to be there for me, good or bad. He never judged or questioned me, but somehow always seemed to have an answer to my problems. He hands me a drink and offers me some popcorn from the giant bowl in his lap. I grab a handful and watch whatever b horror movie is on the tv. 

“Ugh even the ugly ass monster in this bad movie is getting laid why can’t I?”

Benny coughs, choking a little on his popcorn. “What?”

Fuck, I said that out loud. 

“I uh…nothing.”

He takes a swig from his drink, clearing the last of the popcorn. “Afraid no one will touch you again?”

I groan, but I’m also desperate for advice. “No. Well…maybe. It’s not even sex. I just want someone to touch me again. Someone that’s not me or Henry Cavill.”

Benny laughs, his head flying back. “You know Henry Cavill?”

I can feel the heat on my cheeks, but I’ve already said it. “That’s…that’s the name of my vibrator.” His laughter is contagious and I can’t stop myself from smiling. He makes some quips about it and then something happens in the movie that captures our attention. 

“I can help you with that if you’d like.”

My head snaps in his direction. “What?” Did he just offer to…surely not.

He turns his head, his bright blue eyes boring into mine, a sparkle in them. “I can help you with your problem.”

Heat burns my cheeks and I’m grasping at words. Surely he doesn’t mean…he can’t…without thinking, I glance down at his hands, the grip on his bottle, and how small it looks in them. I swallow hard.

“Ben, be serious.”

He leans forward, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he places his bottle on the coffee table before sitting back, casually laying an arm across the back of the couch as if he didn’t just suggest shoving his hand down my pants. 

“I’m serious, sweetheart. Look, you’ve had a really rough go of it. And I would make sure you were taken care of. You’re too pent up. Let some steam out.”

I shift slightly in my seat, which doesn’t go unnoticed by him. It’s not that I’ve never thought about it. Benny is extremely attractive. I just never would ever think he’d be ok with that with me. For me? I can’t even think. 

“Ben…I can’t lose your friendship. That would break me.”

He extends a long finger from the hand that’s across the back of the couch and pokes my head. “Do you think I’d ever let that happen?”

I swat at his hand out of reflex. “Is that something we could control though?”

He thinks for a moment. “It’s us. We’re best friends. We take care of each other. I think we’d be fine.”

“But what if it changes everything?”

He takes my hand in his large one, completely engulfing me. He looks into my eyes and does that thing where his eyebrows pull together and makes me melt. “I promise to not let it change the way I feel about you. Do you promise?”

Could I make that promise? The not-so-minor crush I’ve harbored for him for years is begging. Your feelings won’t change because you already like him. 

“How would…I mean, what would you…”

Benny shifts to face me better. “I’d touch you however you need me to. Maybe make out a little bit if you need to be distracted.”

I press my thighs together, hoping that he didn’t notice. But judging by the way he shifts and his eyes darken slightly, I think he very much noticed. Pressing my thighs together did nothing to quell the heat, my body begging me to just let me be touched. I feel safe with Benny and I know he’d never cross a line. My skin is hot thinking about it and I finally cave, promising myself that we’d still be friends. Just friends that gave each other a hand sometimes. 

Before I can talk myself out of it, I nod, moving to undo the button on my pants. Benny reaches out and stills my hand with his own and I look up at him.

“I need you to say it out loud, sweetheart.”

I swallow hard, trying my best to give him eye contact. Were his eyes always so blue? 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what? I need specifics.”

I let out a huff and this fucker chuckles. “Touch me, Benny. I..want you to touch me.”

Benny scoots closer to me on the couch, his leg pressed against mine. His large hand cups my cheek as he dips his head close to mine, his breath puffing out over my face, fanning the anticipatory fire between my thighs. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers. 

“Yes.” 

I barely get it out before his lips are on mine, soft but guiding, his tongue gently probing at my lips. I open them and his tongue slides inside my mouth, gracefully dancing with my own as he moans slightly into me. Both of his hands are on my face now, cupping my cheeks as he continues to kiss me. Then one moves to the back of my head, slightly gripping my hair as he tips my head back, exposing my neck to him. I gasp as his teeth skirt along my skin, gently nipping and kissing along my pulse point. The hand that isn’t entangled in my hair starts to glide down my body, barely even fumbling as he unbuttons my pants. But he doesn’t touch me. Not yet. Over my jeans, he caresses my inner thighs as I spread my legs, tracing the line where my underwear sits, up and down, up and down, driving me mad. My heart is racing, pounding against my ears. I feel him pause just above my mound and I want to cry. 

“Can you slide your pants off for me?” He breathes into my ear. My hands fumble as I try to shove and kick my pants off, ignoring the smirk on Benny’s face as the pants land somewhere across the room. 

“Panties too. Promise I won’t look.” He covers his face, a large gap between his fingers where his eye is obviously looking out. 

“Don’t you need to see?”

He closes the gap in his fingers but keeps his eyes covered. “Nope. Your sounds will guide me to where I need to be.”

Fuck. Me.

I toss my underwear somewhere by my pants. “Ok I’m-”

I have no time to think because he’s back on me, kissing me hard, like he’s never needed anything so bad. My fingers tangle in his hair, the cool air from his apartment hitting my bare skin, but I don’t care. Benny’s large hand is on my inner thighs again, tracing circles, but also pushing them open. I keep them where he leaves them, my body practically shaking with anticipation.

One long finger slides down me and I jolt, my thighs trying to close, but he pushes them back open before resuming his touch. He slides all the way down to my entrance, gently tracing circles there and I gasp, my eyes still closed as I let myself get lost in his touch. Our foreheads are pressed together, his own breaths coming out a little more ragged as he drags his dampened finger back up me, pausing when my legs jump. He takes his time at this spot, small circles across my clit, fast and slow, fast and slow, my breaths coming out in small, fast pants. 

He slows his movements, gently pushing a finger inside me. I moan, louder as he pulls out and adds a second finger, curling them inside of me as he moves them in and out. One spot has me gasping his name and that’s where he stays, curling and rubbing inside of me as his thumb resumes circling my clit, slow and fast, gentle and harder, the pressure building quick and fast. I grip his wrist and he stills. 

“Can I touch you? I want you to come with me.”

He nods and I move my hand over and undo his button, sliding his zipper down gently. He’s already hard, straining against his boxers. I lower them enough for him to spring free and he grunts. I grip his wrist again and pull his hand out of me with a whimper, but then slide him back in and out, fucking myself with his hand a few times as he moans in my ear. Then I take his wet hand and rub it against my palm, dropping his hand back on me before gripping him with my slicked hand. He whimpers, swearing under his breath before he pushes his fingers inside me again, immediately resuming the slow curling and rubbing, his thumb pressing gently on my clit. I slowly work him up and down, squeezing harder and softer, matching my pace to his. He kisses me hard but then breaks it, our foreheads pressed together as we pant and moan. 

In some super move, he pushes me onto my back, his hand still firmly working me over, my legs spread wide as he settles between them, fucking his hips into my hand. His arm strains next to me as he holds himself up, curling his fingers a little deeper, swirling a little more and I can’t hold back anymore. I cum, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, my legs twitching as I pulse around his fingers. Another few presses of his hips and Benny grunts, small pants coming from him as he spills himself over my stomach, my shirt hiked up to my chest. We stay like that for several long moments, both of us trying to catch our breaths. His eyes open and meet mine, holding my gaze for a moment before he blinks, pulling his hand from me as he sits up. He tucks himself back in as he looks around, shrugs, then reaches behind him and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He drops his shirt on my cunt, using the sleeve to clean off my stomach, to hold up his promise of not looking. He glances down and picks up my underwear and pants, handing them to me as he turns his head away. I make sure I’m cleaned off before getting dressed, sitting back down on the couch, the movie still playing on in the background. Minutes pass in silence between us, my stomach twisting in knots with every passing second. 

Benny clears his throat. “So…are we never talking about this again or can I finally take you on a date?”

My eyes snap up to him, his already on me. There’s no pressure here, he’d be ok if I said we’re never talking about it again. But that’s not what I want. 

“Just so long as we can have dessert at home.”

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

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@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso 

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

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@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[loving-family-poll]

2nd Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 2

Propaganda under the cut:

Anna/Elsa:

THE juggernaut Frozen ship, and I will never forget our glory days!! Anna's act of true love canonically saving Elsa, and then them having a bunch of children from Elsa's sneezes in the Frozen short… Iconic. They will ALWAYS be the most important thing in each other's lives (remember the time Kristoff was trying to propose to Anna, and she was like "Hmm did you see how Elsa was acting weird? I need to go investigate")

Staple for the incest and yuri fandom of the 2010s. Ridiculously romantic storyline of having the kind of true love that's stuff of legends, capable of trumping fear and breaking curses. They are willing to sacrifice anything for each other and we even have a dumbfounded person looking at how beautiful the other is atop of the stairs. Olaf is their baby I guess.

In their attempt to pander to homophobic fans and make a movie about sisterly love instead of lesbians, Disney accidentally made the most beautiful incestuous love story of all time. I just KNOW they were fantasizing about each other while Elsa was locked in her room for all those years. Yes, it's supposed to be a family-friendly princess movie. True sickos know that that's the point.

Elsa and Anna. Two sisters who are separated for thirteen years and yet those thirteen years only entangle them deeper – Anna haunting Elsa because Elsa will not let herself forget the night of the accident, holding Anna close as a child and sobbing… Elsa’s whole life after that moment defined by that moment, defined by protecting Anna and keeping her distance from Anna while yearning to be near to her as the years go by… Elsa sacrificing her everything in the desperate hope that Anna will be safe… If “love is putting someone else’s needs before yours,” then Elsa does that over and over for thirteen years even as she suffers from wanting all the time to be with her sister… – Elsa haunting Anna because Anna is separated from her sister but does not know why, separated from her sister but longing for her sister – and to both of them, the thought of the other becomes something to worship – until Anna gives her life to throw herself before Elsa and stop the falling sword – until Elsa can finally, finally touch Anna again but now Anna is frozen to solid ice, so the only thing Elsa can touch is the reminder that she killed the person she loves most in this world. And then Anna thaws and they cling to each other, united by love – by a desperate, all-consuming, true love that thaws Arendelle around them – and they still carry the thousand wounds from their childhood but they have each other, they love each other, they are in each other’s arms.

I cannot stress enough how intense the film’s focus on touch makes things for incest shippers. Not only are the sister’s separated, but Elsa cannot touch Anna skin to skin, must always wear the gloves, must always keep a barrier between herself and the one she most longs to hold, to touch. Imagine the exhilaration of that first embrace on the fjord. Being able to touch without fear for the first time in years. Imagine the relief.

I also want to cite this, from an anonymous submission to a headcanon blog:

"However, since protecting Anna also required her to stay away from Anna at all times, Anna became sacred, in a sense: something fragile and special to be watched over but never touched or spoken to. She would come to love Anna in much the same way people come to love religious icons: Anna had always been there and had never been there. She loved Elsa and did not know Elsa. She was warm and kind and dedicated and was under no circumstances to be tainted with Elsa’s presence unless she kept the tightest possible control over herself."

That fear of destroying Anna, of corrupting Anna by touching her, of letting loose the repressed part of herself - all of it comes together so exquisitely for an incest ship.

And after they rediscover each other, in Frozen 2? Their bond remains just as intense. The last word on Elsa’s lips before freezing is Anna’s name. Anna, when she realizes Elsa’s “death,” sings a heartbreaking song that includes the lyrics:

“I can't find my direction, I'm all alone The only star that guided me was you How to rise from the floor When it's not you I'm rising for?”

Their pain is born of their love, and their love for each other drives them both forward."

Lestat/Gabrielle:

what if you were a 21 yo blonde guy turned into a vampire against your will and you turned your terminally ill emotionally unavailable 50 yo mother in a vampire also and she immediately started to dress as a beautiful man (she is eerily similar to you…) and you thought that you weren't alone finally and she would understand you and finally accept you and you made out nasty style but then she realized that she still doesn't really give a fuck about you. and ran away into the forest. to sleep in the dirt.

conversely what if you were a noblewoman that hates all of her children and feels completely and absolutely alone all of the time and trapped in a life you do not want but then your least hated son (who looks exactly like you and who you feel insanely jealous of because he is able to live the life you cannot) turns you into a vampire and for an evening you feel happiness and you experience true freedom until you realize that this new more powerful existence which frees you from the social norms of your time ALSO makes you unable to change anything about yourself so you can't even CUT YOUR HAIR LIKE THE MAN YOU ARE. and ALSO your annoying fucking crybaby son is there still and you hate him a little because despite being what you WISH you were he does not accept that freedom? and insists on living among humans? so you run away to live in the forest and sleep in the dirt

Flamboyant bi son and emotionally distant transmasc mom duo who bond to survive abusive circumstances and start making out after he turns her into a vampire (which technically makes him her dad as well). Lestat describes her boobs in lurid detail and literally refers to them as "lovers kissing" in canon. Gabrielle ends up abandoning her sonlover after a couple years on the road together, causing him to literally bury himself under a house out of sheer misery. If they try to smooth any of this over in the books I will riot.

freaky, freaky man and his genderqueer mother who he’s totally normal about. they kiss on the mouth many times and are described as lovers

[vajrapoet]

Turning The Wheel

For SUNDANG RPG, I wanted to write a different kind of turn-based system. I stand on the shoulders of giants: PbtA’s Conversation-As-Procedure and “No Combat Minigame.” My goal was to make a battle system that had the free flowing, no-minigame feel of a PbtA/FitD game, but had a bit more structure to satisfy the action-heads.

One of the bigger inspirations for revolutionizing the turn-system is my obsession with The Raid: Redemption and The Raid 2, two seminal Silat films that have some of the best action sequences and choreographies in all of cinema. To me, it stands among Police Story 2 and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon as the current peak of cinematic action.

A few things to lay down to help center the thought-processes I had:

I am of a theater-academic background. My fascination and hyperfixation on RPGs stems wholly from the Role-Playing aspect. My friend group loves to extract stories and narratives from gameplay loops, but we want to Role-Play In A World first and foremost.

Therefore, I value the Role-Playing Experience above everything else. This is no doubt colored and informed by what RPGs I began with: Vampire: The Masquerade and Mage: the Ascension. RPGs are world-portals to me, ways to experience, interact, and interrogate realities.

I don’t consider Mechanics to be separate from the “Fiction”. I might even deem a game’s rules to be the “Infrafiction,” the Fiction underneath everything else that arises from a game. The Fiction that demands to be told. The specter that suffuses every rules interaction.

Tangent: This idea was first spurred on because of idle daydreams while playing and finishing my current run of Final Fantasy XII. For those that don’t know, Final Fantasy XII has the ADB or Active Dimension Battle System (which is funny because ADB is also the acronym for Asia Development Bank, one of the major enemies of National Industrialization in the Philippines). ADB is the evolution of the popular ATB battle system or the Active Time Battle System. It’s called ADB because you aren’t squared off into a different screen when you enter combat. Instead, you go into combat as you’re exploring the world. Combat and Dungeon segregation barriers are effectively destroyed. This is actually one of the reasons why I love FFXII so much, and so much of what FFXII worked is what I also love from its CRPG contemporaries such as Star Wars: The Knights of the Old Republic and Dragon Age: Origins. (It’s also very similar to the Combat System found in Xenoblade!)

So for SUNDANG, I had the following goals for combat and turn “order”:

Non-Minigame Combat, or Nondivided Combat Mechanics from the rest of the world/Conversation, taking inspiration from ADB.

No “Turns” just continuous “Action.”

Never-Not-Your-Turn vibe.

Skill-Based Combat.

Brutal, dangerous combat. Skull-cracking, bone-twisting, blood-drawing. Thrilling in the sense that a Horror movie is. A horror movie with wuxia protagonists.

The Action

Action Economy is when, on your turn, you have a number of “Actions” that you can do, and you cannot do anything beyond the number of actions (of course you can do anything which you can justify as an action). This will define not just how your character moves in combat, but how they think of themselves throughout their progression. The most common form of Action Economy is “Move + Action” as seen in most d20 games, especially D&D 5e.

One of the very first things that I’ve had to unattach myself from is the Action Economy. One thing I noticed while developing SUNDANG was that every aspect of the game mechanics felt like it had to justify itself within the Action Economy. This was problematic to me for 2 aspects:

It centered combat completely. Since Action Economy only really mattered in combat, every little trinket that I had to write suddenly had to have some sort of interaction that could be done when you pressed the “Interact” action during combat.

It required “mechanization.” One of the major ideas I had for SUNDANG was to provide a mechanical base that centered on the gamization of the “fluff” without the designer having had a hand in it. If something said “This is a mallet, useful for evening out dinks and repairing machineries” it should be able to be used for that without having to interact with a subsystem. Through this, we annihilate barriers between “fluff” and mechanics, creating a more “immersive” world-space that is more conducive to Role-Playing.

While nothing is wrong with something requiring mechanization, I want it to be as invisible as possible, hence why the mechanical base of SUNDANG is built for such an experience: at creating an immersive interactive world.

One of my problems with Action Economy is that combat becomes about Action Economy. This is a problem that you can see so deeply within some of my favorite games: Final Fantasy Tactics, Tactics Ogre, and Final Fantasy XII all have Speed Stats that are affected by Weight, etc. Since having more “turns” is infinitely valuable in a game about getting more chances to reduce an opponent’s HP to 0, Speed-generating strats dominated those games’ upper mechanical ceiling.

While I think that’s cool, it’s not what I wanted to do with SUNDANG. It makes strange mechanical repercussions, dominations of certain strategies and therefore a larger gap between what is used and what is not used. I don’t want to make a game where you have to “solve” it through buildcrafting. I wanted to make a game where you can express yourself in.

So, away with the Action Economy. What do you do on the turn now?

The Turn

“On your turn, you can do X and Y.” This is the basic assumption in most RPGs. In OSR and NSR games this is the common assumption as well. Move + Action is elegant, simple, and gets things moving along. It gets the system out of the way so people can keep focusing on the fiction.

More importantly, the Turn splits combat into every acting character within the current situation, context, or scene. Gives everyone a chance to act. Pins everything down into spacetime.

For SUNDANG, this was not the vibe I wanted to give off. It felt too spartan, in a way. I wanted people to be constantly moving, constantly turning. More importantly, as the RPG is a player-facing medium, I want there to be the vibe of “never-not-your-turn.” This is a problem I face with much of my past RPGs and with other combat-heavy RPGs.

You take your turn and then you sit back and wait for your next one. If you’re invested in the game, you watch as the situation and gamestate changes. If not, you wait until someone calls you out and then you ask what has happened and what has changed. In all honesty, my position is that this is not a bad game design quirk. In fact, if you design around it, it could be a good quirk. Being able to do something while it’s not your turn helps a lot with Attention Deficiencies, for example.

But this isn’t something I wanted to do with SUNDANG. I wanted it to be Never-Not-Your-Turn.

So I stole a bit from Fire Emblem. There, in Fire Emblem, a “Turn” isn’t a single character’s turn to move, but rather, an advancement of the combat time-space. You often have objectives where you have to “Rout Enemy In 40 Turns” or something along those lines.

So I revolutionized how I thought about Turns. What if Turns weren’t each individual being’s turn, but an entire group of people’s turns? Now this is phase-based or side-based initiative, common (and good! I actually love side-based initiative) in OSR games. It’s very wargame-y and, honestly, conducive to strategy. But that’s not what I wanted to do here.

So I turned the Wheel again. What if Turns were chunks of time in a combat? What if turns were just Rounds? Often, the existence of a combat minigame is so that people can “zoom-in” into the action, because this is a matter of life or death! You can get killed here! Hence why we zoom in, stop time, focus on the details because the details means the difference between kill or be killed.

So I focused on that aspect.

Turn The Wheel

In PbtA, one of the major schools of RPG Design that I profess to have arisen from, combat doesn’t have a “Turn System” or a “Combat System.” Instead, it flows naturally from the conversation. It is contiguous to the rest of the system, not requiring special attention. What you can do in normal roleplaying, you can do in combat! That’s what that meant. When you sequester combat away into a new set of rules, you implicitly change the game unless you explicitly design for it to be a microcosm of the game’s already existing rules. Due to this change, I believe the mindset then becomes that you have to play the game according to this new set of rules unless you’re particularly good at improv-ing or are some form of designer/GM yourself.

I wanted that. So SUNDANG’s “turn system” has no Action Economy, no Initiative, no Reaction (no Reactionaries!) When you want to do something, do it. But it will most likely require a roll, and it will change the state of the situation.Everything has an equal amount of appropriate consequences. This is already how PbtA “combat” goes, since it’s not separate from the Conversation, the combat is also a conversation. You do something, the world does something, you react to that, then the world reacts to that, and so on.

I therefore fused the “Turns as divisions of action space-time” and “Combat-as-Conversation.”

A lot of this clicked after listening to a Robert Kurvitz interview about how he wanted to do Skill-Based Combat Scenes. Which aligned with what I wanted to do. Check it out!

For arguments of space, such as movement rates, the normal movement rate is 5 tails (roughly, 25 feet) per second. One can then infer how much a character can move in a single Turn through that as well as the modifying, environmental factors (harsh terrain, labyrinths, and so on). This allows it to be played on a Grid with the Grid as a space-representer, with shifting distance-scales for each grid square. The more interesting consequence is that, when you move, what about the world that's actively trying against you? That will then necessitate a Check, making even movement volatile and situation-changing. 

Turn-Based Combat: Never-Not-Your-Turn

First off the bat, this conception of Turn-Based Combat arises also from Clocks and Skill Challenges. The difference is largely the Presentation, mentality, and structure.

Additionally, SUNDANG’s Skill System is integral to this conception of combat. SUNDANG is a 24-Skill System inspired by the likes of Artesia: Adventures in the Known World and Runequest, where the majority of the Skills are not even combat-focused Skills, which color a player’s expectations for how combat could go (why be chained to the 3-4 Combat Skills when you can potentially agitate your Creativity to try and use the rest of them?)

So in SUNDANG, Turn-Based Combat is as follows:

If you enter into a situation wherein life-or-death is in the details, set up a 4-, 6-, or 8-segmented circle, known as The Wheel. Segment it according to the time you have left.

Find something within the world to be the temporal anchor, the World-Time. It could be the moving train, the skyskiff (that you might or might not be on at that moment!) plummeting into city streets, the wheels of a horse-carriage heading into a crash, the juggernaut battering ram barreling through enemy trenches. You can use this to lengthen the timescale of a battle. A day-long duel between two masters might have the Sun as their World-Time.

Turn 1 begins when you point at one segment and say it does. During a Turn, all the relevant PCs must do something.When they do something, the world then does something back. As always, this is just the conversation. When a PC goes and swordstrikes a pirate captain, the pirate captain will probably swordstrike back (dealing damage if that’s the PC’s consequence or threatening damage if not). Keep the conversation going.

When all the PCs have done something, mark out that segment of the Wheel. Turn to the next one adjacent to it, and say “Turn 2.” This is called Turning The Wheel. When you Turn The Wheel, before the PCs do anything, describe how the temporal anchor moves forward in time, and ascertain the consequences of that happening:

The skyskiff breaks through the high-rises. (Now there are potential people watching, now there are potential casualties, and so on.)

The horse carriage bumps against a tree and barrels closer to the cliff. (The carriage might have chunks broken off, some combatants might be knocked off, and so on.)

The Sun begins to sink into the horizon. (Dark becomes to impair vision, a nocturnal sea predator might breach soon, and so on.)

The juggernaut battering ram flies over enemy heads and moves closer to the city walls (there might be some warriors firing projectiles at you now, and so on.)

Finally, when all the segments are filled, a Revolution happens. Something Big. Throw away that Wheel. The situation changes. It has to. That’s the only real thing in this world.

The skyskiff crashes into the city plaza.

The horse carriage flies off the cliff.

The Sun sinks completely into the sea, ushering darkness.

The battering ram slams into the city walls and breaks it open.

Often, this change in situation ends Violence. You have to deal with the consequences now. In SUNDANG, you get XP for surviving Violence, not winning it. But SUNDANG is also a wuxia-western-silat game of wandering justicemakers and hotshot swordsmen. If this happens, set up another Wheel and choose another world-time.

You somehow survive the crash, and now must fight in the city plaza amongst hundreds of watchers.

The horse carriage plummets into a jade jungle, and you must fight upon its descending carcass.

The Moon rises now, as the fight continues on.

The King’s Man-At-Arms now charge toward the juggernaut to swarm and destroy it, with you still inside it.

The Violence continues. Deal with the consequences of your actions. Look forward to another Revolution.

If this piqued your interest, SUNDANG is currently out on my Patreon and I'm running pseudo-playtests of it on the Patreon Discord!

[quinngefail]

Quinn, Do you ship any Rare-pairs in the SAW????...if not could I hear of some of your Character head-cannons for any of the characters?? Also your little sona is very <3<3<3<3 -🍧

HEHEHH THANK YOU

And there's none I'm super super huge on yet, I gotta watch these mf movies more though 😭 there's just a number of characters that I've only seen in action once so far, so like THERE'S POTENTIAL FOR BRAINROT. IT JUST HASN'T SET IN YET

I know I've talked about Strahmheight. But I'm very much in the stages of like 'I enjoy this as a concept. I don't have any solid thoughts beyond that though' Y'KNOW,, in a similar vein, I like the idea of Perez/Amanda :] couldn't elaborate on more yet though lol

And I'll give you a more recent headcanon I've been thinking about :> ! Things are subject to change, of course, but this is the working idea thus far:

In a very stereotypical Wealthy Upbringing fashion, Lawrence was taught how to play the piano while growing up (full context for what I've been brainstorming on that upbringing here lol)- specifically by his parents, as both enjoyed playing. And though they were far from the best parental figures, I imagine that being a genuine source of family bonding. Eventually, either after his mother passed or when his father did years later (haven't fully decided yet), that piano was among the things that were left to him. He had a hard time getting back into playing though- one part due to his complicated feelings on his parents, and the other because of life just generally getting busier and busier.

But, post bathroom trap, the recovery process with his prosthetic required a very sedentary lifestyle for the time being. And in this whole cocktail of trauma, depression, fear, and frankly, boredom, he'd slowly get back into playing the piano- all of the techniques and such coming back to him like a second instinct. It became a very common thing he'd do in his recovery, just sitting and getting lost in it for hours.

And of course, obligatory mention of him inevitably playing for Adam and this becoming a regular thing between them, CUTE SHIT, YADDA YADDA,

It's just been melting my heart. Just a little bit lmao

[valkyrieromanoff]

Hii dear ❤️

I just love all your hayden christensen works so much.

I have a request where Reader plays padme's role and during all the shooting for the movie they fall in love with each other and eventually they get married and evan is also very protective of the reader and sees her as a younger sister. You can add scenes like the movie interviews or press tours.

I have searched for a fic with this idea for so long but haven't found one. 😔

Plz I would really be glad if you do a fic regarding this idea. It's also ok if you can't do it no pressure dear 😊

Love ❤️

Taker care

🎀YOU AS PADMÉ X HAYDEN CHRISTENSE: THE LOVE STORY🎀

synopsis: in the bustling backdrop of a New York casting call in 2000, you meet Hayden Christensen, an enigmatic young actor vying for the role of Anakin Skywalker. A shared screen test ignites an undeniable chemistry, blurring the line between performance and reality, and leaving you both with a lingering sense that this is only the beginning of something extraordinary.

words: 1.1k

warning: not based on real events, fluffy, hint of romance

a/n: hello there, I was SO hyped when I read your idea—it’s seriously brilliant and such a vibe! ✨ Honestly, I’m super honored you trusted me to write this with you 💖. IDK if you were thinking of a one-shot, but I was imagining turning this into a mini-fanfic (like 10 chapters or so?) to really explore all the phases of their relationship—the tension, the feelings, the growth, all of it 🫶.

I hope you love what I’ve written so far, and PLEASE feel free to share your comments or opinions—they’re totally welcome and super important to make this story the best it can be for everyone! 🥰

CHAPTER ONE: CASTING

The sun was beginning to dip behind the Manhattan skyline as you stretched in your chair for the hundredth time that day. You’d been at this since the early morning hours, reading the same lines over and over again with a rotating cast of hopeful actors vying for the role of Anakin Skywalker. George Lucas had been clear about what he was looking for—a young man who could embody Anakin’s volatile mix of rebellious passion and burgeoning darkness. But after dozens of auditions, no one had quite nailed it.

Some actors were technically good but lacked the raw, unpolished edge George wanted. Others had the right look but couldn’t summon the emotional depth required for the role. And as the hours wore on, your excitement for the project was slowly being drained away by the monotony of the casting process.

You exhaled heavily, flipping through the well-worn pages of the script in your hands, your mind wandering to thoughts of escaping the stifling audition room and stepping into the brisk New York air. That’s when you heard his name.

“Hayden Christensen.”

Your eyes snapped up as a young man walked into the room. Honey-blonde hair framed his face, and his quiet confidence filled the space effortlessly. He wasn’t overly polished like so many of the others. There was an air of authenticity about him, as though he didn’t need to try too hard to be noticed.

Your gaze lingered on him as the casting director pointed out where he should stand. He nodded, offering a small, polite smile to the room before taking his mark. There was no unnecessary bravado, no nervous fidgeting—just a focused calm that intrigued you instantly.

When he began his lines, it was as though the room shifted. His voice carried a raw vulnerability, his delivery perfectly balancing Anakin’s simmering anger with the aching, earnest desire for connection. It wasn’t just an audition; it was as if he was Anakin Skywalker.

For a moment, you forgot you were supposed to be evaluating him. His intensity drew you in, his words lingering in the air long after they were spoken. You found yourself leaning forward in your chair, captivated. It was the first time all day you’d felt the spark of something real, something electric.

“(Y/N), are you ready?”

Your name snapped you out of the trance. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, as one of the assistants handed you the pages for the scene. Your heart was racing, and you didn’t know why. All you knew was that you were about to step into that scene with him.

The moment you walked up to Hayden, he looked at you, and for a split second, the rest of the room seemed to disappear. His eyes, an arresting shade of blue, locked onto yours, and you felt a spark—like the ignition of a lightsaber. He smiled, a small, almost imperceptible twitch of his lips, and suddenly, the world felt different.

When the scene began, your eyes darted to the script once or twice, double-checking your lines to ensure everything was perfect. But as the words fell from your lips and his presence seemed to pull you in, something shifted. The boundary between reality and performance blurred, and suddenly, you were no longer reading lines—you were living them. The emotions, the conflict, and the forbidden pull between your characters surged through you like a tidal wave.

“I can't. We can't. It's just not possible,” you murmured, your voice trembling with the weight of the words. It wasn’t just Padmé speaking; it was you, every syllable laced with an ache that felt startlingly real. Your heart, unbidden, protested against the logic of the line, just as hers would.

Hayden’s blue eyes locked onto yours, their intensity almost startling. They were so bright, so alive, but within them swirled a mix of hurt, longing, and something deeper—something that made the air between you feel impossibly charged. His voice was low, thick with a quiet desperation as he stepped closer. “Anything’s possible. Padmé, please listen…” His hand extended toward yours, trembling slightly, as though he couldn’t help but reach for you.

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. The warmth of his hand brushed yours, and an unfamiliar spark danced up your arm. Your fingers almost curled instinctively toward his before you pulled back, forcing yourself to remain in character.

“You listen,” you countered, your voice soft yet firm, filled with a mix of resignation and sorrow. “We live in a real world. Come back to it. You’re studying to become a Jedi Knight. I’m a Senator. If you follow your thoughts through to conclusion, they will take us to a place we cannot go… regardless of the way we feel about each other.”

The words came effortlessly now, as though they belonged not just to Padmé but to you. And as you spoke them, you noticed the way Hayden’s expression shifted—how every ounce of his being seemed to pour into the scene. He didn’t just act. He felt. And in his eyes, you saw it too—a connection, an unspoken understanding that transcended the lines on the page.

With each passing moment, the distance between you closed, not just physically but emotionally, spiritually, as if this moment was fated—destined to unfold exactly this way. By the time you finished your last line, the silence in the room was almost deafening, the air charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

The sound of applause jolted you from the trance-like state, breaking the fragile spell that had wrapped itself around the two of you. You blinked, stepping back instinctively, though your chest still felt tight, your heart still racing. George Lucas and the rest of the team stood clapping, clearly thrilled by the chemistry that had just unfolded in front of them.

You forced a smile, stepping back farther to give Hayden the moment he deserved. He was speaking with George now, his body language a mix of excitement and relief. He was the chosen one. Everyone in the room knew it. He had just won the role of a lifetime.

Yet, even as you lingered in the background, trying to focus on the buzz of conversation around you, you felt it—him. His gaze. It burned softly, like sunlight warming your skin even when you weren’t looking. Over the shoulders of directors and producers, he stole glances your way, as if drawn to you in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

And then there was you. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in your chest, making it harder to think clearly. You couldn’t quite place it—was it admiration? Excitement? Curiosity? It felt like all those things and more, tangled into a knot that you didn’t want to unravel just yet.

You didn’t know where this would lead, or why you felt so certain that this was only the beginning of something bigger. All you knew was that, somehow, you were eager to find out.

[strawbie-doodle]

NINIJA TURTLE MOVIE GOOD

[enter-drfrog]

Broke: being upset that I don’t won’t be in London when Mischief Movie Night returns or The Comedy About Spies

Woke: seeing the 10-year anniversary cast of The Play That Goes Wrong because I am still in London

[userautumn]

through no fault of his own, i think sebastian stan might have actually tanked his career with the apprentice

[skitskatdacat63]

I'm not built for watching movies w straight dudes cause I can't say the things I want to say like, "James Bond would benefit from puppy play," "He should seduce a man next," "If I made a Bond film, I'd have him infiltrate a bdsm club as a sub" etc etc.

[icewindandboringhorror]

If you became super rich and could design your own house, but could only add THREE unnecessary/random/expensive home additions (like how people will have bowling alleys, movie theatres, closets with museums of shoes, car display rooms, spa rooms, wine cellars, etc. in their mansions) - what three would you choose?

[yllowpages]

[teenagefeeling]

just got back from barbieeeeee

(tags contain very mild spoilers but only for like 2 throwaway jokes)