#ive been trying to not really talk about this show or look it up on tumblr mostly because like what if theres posts about it

[blucactus112]

May never come to reality but im planning out a Animatic to AJR's 'Maybe Man' (sue me) and need some help filling in some of the parts.

(Its probably going to be about all the life series in general not specifically Wild life. but feel free to try it fit it all in one series)

!!!long post incoming!!!

General plan so far:

First Half(ish) will be calmly looking at hermits in their peaceful habitats talking about their insecurities.

Finishing the first half when we get to the god part it will be Grian before life series started pleading to watchers and becoming one himself then cutting to him and all the other lifers standing around in a circle (like the start of each series) (much wow)

ONE. TWO. PANDEMONIUM.

murder, just all of the scenes of people dying biggest polt twist, betrayals, and Amount of kills.

Also specifically a close up of grain seeing the server burning in the reflection of his eyes.

ending with another shot of the beginning of a server but we see grains eyes which are weathered and worn out and maybe has some watcher purple

Specific Lines:

Wish I was a stone, so I couldn't feel You'd yell in my face, it'd be no big deal But I'd miss the way we make up and smile Don't want to be stone, I changed my mind

Im thinking scar and Grian Desert Duo? also could be

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head Then I could see the places I've been But then I would know that you're talkin' shit I don't wanna know what my friends think

This im Deff thinking cleo bigb scott and lizzie from the Boogeyman series (i forgor wich one that is)

but open to other ideas

Wish I were my dog out on the lawn I'd be so glad when I hear you come home But if I were my dog, I wouldn't live long I'm sure gonna miss her when she's gone

This is pearl playing with a dog, you cannot fucking make me change my mind

I wish I could act in a show on TV 'Cause then I could practice not bein' me I'll practice my cry, put it into my reel But you won't believe me when I cry for real

im either thinking like Ren or Martyn because of the acting thing or one of the scenes usually portrayed as lots of crying (ie Scott at the end of double life)

I wish that my brain would triple in size I'd nail every joke, I'd win every fight But I'd get too deep with that kind of mind I don't wanna know the point of life

ive been thinking of this as jimmy in general but also i dont want to be mean so other ideas would be great

In some other life I would be rich I'd travel in style, I'd cover the bill But couldn't complain 'bout anything small Nobody'd feel bad for me at all

havent given much thought for ones after this but im thinking Scar on Magic mountain trying to scam everyone?

If I was cocaine or a bottle of Jack I'd get invited to every frat But when you get old and your good days have passed You'll only want me when you're sad

have there been any people that bounce between alliances during one series?

Wish I was a song, your favorite one You'd follow the dance to me at your prom I would be there when your baby is born For two or three minutes, then I'm gone

there was at least one dande floor that was a trap, right??

I wish I was big, as big as my house I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch God, I could really use him now

probably ep1 of WildLife

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up And if I did, well, so fuckin' what? I could be cruel and break all your stuff Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

pov grain angst

grain is on super windy mountain top surrounded by watchers crying, pleading to them

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird 'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear And then you would die, you'd love me to death I never know who the hell I am

grian is surrounded by purple light wings and eyes becoming at least in part, a watcher

I wish I was me, whoever that is I could just be and not give a shit Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan 'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

cut to peaceful tranquil plains, all of them jn a circle at beginning of life series laughing joking shaking hands hugging (set em up for emotional damage)

One, two, pandemonium

black, black, PAN DE MONIUM

cut to destruction of server only using reds browns and blacks showing carnage this series has brought (and yes ofc player has died messages will appear in the corner as if in chat)

One, two, pandemonium

im thinking each line will be each of the series in chronological order

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

One, two-

Here I go again

cut to beginning of ?wild life? they all have scars when their final kills have been, some look tired some look determined

if you end up making this animatic if you want to put me in the credits as like 'inspired by' :3 but honestly idc that much. but you HAVE to tell me if you post one bc i will watch the hell out of that

#god i need more tags

[demial4]

Someone's Thoughtful Take on Cosmo Canyon

from Here

"Note Ive never played the OG. I know of the OG so I can’t really make a comparison aside from what others have said and what I’ve seen in love playthroughs and commentaries.

Personally, I like the remake’s take. 

Let’s look at the game’s themes. Ff7 at the core isn’t about magic swords and defeating Sauron, it’s about economic ideas, imperialism, corporatism, selfishness, and honesty. 

 In canon, Shinra has waged war on the world. And has more or less won. Shinra dictates what people should buy and believe, it is capitalist in the worst sense. Shinra has separated people from the environment through building cities and creating a society based on material wealth and fame (recall how cloud and tifa’s village was excluded from shinra’s economy and only knew of the world via shinra’s propaganda). 

So what would people in reality most likely be? They’d be tourists and certainly the areas affected by Shinra realize they need to survive…by being tourist sites. 

In the OG Wutai did do that which is why yuffie rebelled. The remake seems to indicate that happened to wutai as in canon. 

There are questions of how countries/people affected by imperialism adapt, and becoming a part of the free market by advertising “happiness, freedom etc” could be one of them.

In the real world, we do have “spiritual retreats” and “gurus (looking at you Beatles and that guru from India)” for wealthy, bored folks. So the game is taking this fakeness, this desire to get quick answers without really becoming a true rebel, and showing it in the game.

Yuffie, being one who comes from a semi-nation that has been brutalized and humiliated by Shinra, is skeptical of the cosmo canyon. And why shouldn’t she be? Her nation has suffered many deaths, and the loss of their tradition slowly, yet these guys are sitting around “meditating” only to go home the next day to their peaceful lives? They can go home safely but everyday her people lose more and more of themselves. Plus she isn’t sure they are correct about the afterlife-I mean they don’t have good evidence so why should she believe them? She has lost people and she has never seen them again. It’s a very mature take on the world for a young teen like yuffie.

When tifa ends up trying to tell people about what she actually experienced in the life force, no one from the cosmo canyon aside from Guggenheimer (who initially dismisses her) tries to delve more into what she is talking about. 

Tifa is talking to people who can’t or won’t understand what she is warning about because they haven’t had the life experiences she has and I suspect the genuine desire to help the world change. 

Later on, in golden saucer, Tifa confesses to cloud that she feels so helpless when she sees how no one in the golden saucer is reacting to the new war on wutai."

from Here

[mihai-florescu]

This really was our yumenosaki academy♡

[tokyoteddywolf]

22 isn't very much at all, I think.

[artemisbarnowl]

Having a totally normal one* after waking from a dream where I just relive life with my ex. It was so normal and fine and we did things such as lay around in bed and make plans for the day, go to the Korean supermarket on the corner, go to a friend's house together.

[readymades2002]

something difficult about writing/storytelling but only in short disconnected bursts is that writing anything longform is very difficult. there isn't as much time to practice long-term character development or subtlety (implying character instead of immediately clarifying) when its not really meant to go anywhere but a notes app. its a little frustrating...i'd love to do something more longform though. i've considered maybe just doing some short writing scenes in my various original universes a lot recently mostly because i just havent had time to draw anything fancy recently </3 maybe that would be something...

[mbat]

istg if josh marries nora im gonna be so pissed lol im so sick of her, whyd they kill off the person that actually seemed better for him

[hoshifighting]

when you start to ignore them — seventeen as your crush

hyung line / maknae line

minghao’s not dumb—he felt it when things shifted. the way you suddenly stopped giving him those small gifts, the attention, the lingering gazes when he caught your eye. he didn’t know why, but he knew something had changed. he never mentioned it, though. minghao’s never been one to chase attention, but yours? yeah, he got used to it. maybe too used to it. the weird part is, he started to crush on you too. he’d look forward to your little gifts, the way you’d brighten up around him. he thought he’d play it cool, but now? now he feels like he’s the one waiting.

one afternoon, after another day of you barely acknowledging him, he corners you. his voice is calm, but there’s something sharp beneath the surface. “did something happen between us?” you blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation. “no… why?”

he tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “you stopped talking to me. stopped giving me attention.” his lips curl into a smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “i thought you liked me.” the words hang in the air, and for a second, you swear you see a flicker of irritation in his eyes. “or was that just for fun?”

mingyu’s used to girls crushing on him. he’s tall, handsome, and charming without even trying, so it never surprises him when people start showing him attention. he thought you were just like everyone else at first—another person fawning over him. but then, you stopped. and fuck, that’s when he realized it was different.

he never thought much of it before, but when your gifts stopped showing up, when you stopped hanging around him, it hit him hard. he didn’t expect to miss it, didn’t expect to miss you. but here he is, sitting in the practice room, scrolling through his phone, wondering why you’re suddenly ignoring him. “hey,” he catches you outside the dorms one evening, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “you’ve been… quiet.”

you raise an eyebrow. “quiet?”

he nods, swallowing. “yeah. you used to, y’know, be around more.” he glances away, almost embarrassed. “i kinda miss it.” there’s a pause, and when you don’t respond right away, mingyu’s chest tightens. “did i do something wrong? or… were you just over it?” his voice is softer than usual, less cocky, and it makes you realize how much he actually liked having you around. maybe more than he let on.

seokmin doesn’t take it well. when you stop giving him attention, he feels it immediately. it’s like a cloud settles over him, and he doesn’t know how to shake it.

he tries to laugh it off at first. “oh, what did I do now y/n-nie?” he jokes, flashing you one of his signature grins. but when you don’t laugh, when you just shrug and walk away, his smile falters. it eats at him for daysssss!! he hates it. hates how much he’s thinking about you, about the way you’ve been avoiding him. he misses your presence, your gifts, your attention.

finally, he can’t take it anymore. one night, after practice, he pulls you aside, his expression serious for once. “why are you ignoring me?”

“i’m not—”

“you are,” he cuts you off, his voice a little sharper than usual. “you used to care, you used to… i don’t know, you used to make me feel special. now it’s like i don’t even exist to you.” his voice cracks.

“what the hell ive done?! or are you just tired of me?”

seungkwan’s first instinct is to make you jealous. when he realizes you’ve stopped giving him attention, stopped following him around, his pride takes a hit. so, he starts flirting with others more openly, trying to get a reaction out of you.

but it doesn’t work. you don’t even seem to care, and that only makes him more frustrated. after a week of his failed attempts, he finally gives up and decides to confront you. “what’s going on?” he asks one day, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed. “you’ve been ignoring me, and it’s pissing me off.”

you raise an eyebrow, not really in the mood for his theatrics. “pissing you off?” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “yeah. you used to be all over me, and now… nothing. did you find someone else or something?”

there’s a pause, and for the first time, seungkwan’s usual confidence wavers. “i don’t like it,” he admits quietly, his voice softer now. “i miss you.” it’s a rare moment of openness from him, and you can tell he means it.

“can we… can we go back to how things were?”

vernon doesn’t say anything for a while. he notices when you stop hanging around him, but he’s not the type to make a big deal out of it. he figures you’re just busy, or maybe you’ve lost interest, and he tells himself it’s fine. but deep down he knows its not.

after a few days of silence, vernon starts to feel restless. he misses the small things—the way you’d smile at him, the way you’d always bring him snacks, when you click your fingers on his face when he zooms out or laugh at his dumb jokes. without you around, everything feels off. he catches you one day after class, his hands shoved in his pockets as he looks at you. “sup’, you good?”

“yeah, why?”

he shrugs, glancing away. “just… you’ve been kinda distant.” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “i don’t like it. actually, i like having you around...” his voice is quiet, almost shy, and it takes you a second to realize he’s being serious. “i mean, i get it if you’re over it or whatever, but…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “i really miss you. that’s all.”

chan’s reaction is instantaneous. the moment you stop giving him attention, he starts giving it right back. it’s like he can’t stand the idea of losing your presence, so he tries to fill the gap himself.

suddenly, he’s the one following you around, offering you snacks, little gifts, even bubblegum. “here, thought you might like this,” he says with a grin, holding out a pack of your favorite candy.

“uh, thanks…”

he smiles, but there’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “you’ve been kinda quiet lately. figured i’d return the favor, y’know?” he keeps it up for days, going out of his way to get your attention, to make you smile. and when you finally ask him why he’s doing it, he just shrugs, his usual confidence slipping a bit.

“i missed you,” he admits softly, his eyes dropping to the floor. “you used to do all this for me, and i didn’t realize how much i liked it until you stopped.” there’s a beat of silence before he looks up at you again, his voice quieter now. “i guess… i just wanted to remind you that i care too.”

[justevelynnnn]

Drabble for a protective logan of a pregnant!reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of feral logan, childbirth..

A/N: ive had this prompt on my mind for a whileee however i don’t think this will have a follow up cause i got kinda lazy towards the end

- He knows before you do honestly. Strong sense of smell and all that jazz. But also he senses your heart rate slightly increase even though you’re not doing anything

- You smell different..almost…sweeter? At least to him.

- A week after he noticed you tell him how you missed your period and he just just looks at you and nods like “duh, you’re pregnant…”

- You still go to Jean to get an ultrasound and what do ya know, there’s a bun in the oven!

- Immediately after it’s officially confirmed Logan forbids you to go on anymore missions or really do…anything..

- Going out with Storm? Where? Why? No, no, no stay here it’s too dangerous out there..

- He didn’t let you lift anything, do chores, cook…

- Nope nope nope just stay there.

- As time goes on you get a bit annoyed but you’ll admit it’s cute seeing him like this.

- He cuddles with you every single night, arm protectively slung around your belly. He kisses it every night and then your forehead. He’s so soft with you..

- As your bump started to show he just couldn’t stop looking. He was surprisingly very excited to be a father. He was gonna raise this kid right. Protect them from any harm as much as he can. You included.

- He’s always been protective over you but now?

- One day, You were trying to reach something and Scott comes by, noticing you need help and walks over to help you reach whatever you want. Unfortunately for him, Logan saw this from around the corner and also saw how Scott gently touched your side as he helped you.

- Logan saw red. He snarls and then lunged at Scott and damn near bites him. Scott jumps back a bit, startled by the sudden feralness.

- “Don’t. Touch. Her. Again. Got it, Summers?” Logan growled angrily.

- Scott just nodded and then quickly left.

- You scolded Logan immediately after but Logan ignored you and just looked at you for any “marks”

- So after that no one was to ever touch you unless it was Jean doing a check up. Or another mutant if she couldn’t.

- Logan didn’t care. In his mind he was keeping you 100% safe. From harm..germs…whatever

- He’d make you wear his clothes so his “scent” would be on you and also because your clothes were getting too tight

- Whatever you craved, he’d get it.

- If you wanted water at 4am, he’s up and going to get it immediately, like he wasn’t just sleeping moments before

- Back hurting? He’s now a licensed massage therapist.

- Someone’s cooking food that’s making you gag? He’s going into the kitchen and scolding whoever’s cooking.

- That one was a bit embarrassing but they never really minded and understood you were pregnant

- After a while you started to become more and more out of breath so now you reallyyyy couldn’t do anything. You had to beg Logan to at least let you get some fresh air or something because staying in bed all day was not the answer even if your feet were swelling and you back was killing you.

- He’d walk with you outside as you talked about your day and he just listened. He’d ask about the baby and how you felt and how he felt about becoming parents

- He was more cuddly when you neared the end of your third trimester. Hugging you more, kissing you more, talking to your now huge stomach and rubbing it and feeling when the baby kicked

- You both didn’t know if the baby was gonna be a mutant or not or the gender or anything but just knew it was healthy and that was honestly enough

- You decided to deliver at the mansion because well, the hospitals nearby did not like or tend to mutants at all..

- You started getting braxton hicks here and there and you knew the baby had dropped. It was getting hard to move and the mansion was on edge. Logan especially.

- He’d pace around you as you groan and winced in pain but told him, “False alarm honey…just another hick..”

- But was it? What if it’s time? What if you two ignore this and then it’s too late? What if something is wrong and and-

- There was alot of calming Logan down now..reassuring you’re fine

- A week before you were due, you were thrown a baby shower.

- It was Rogues idea and everyone gave you a little something. Diapers, Toys, bottles…

- They had all your favorite foods from your pregnancy, even the super weird cravings

- You cried.

- Logan got mad when he saw you cry. “Who did this?? Why is she crying? Was it you, Summers? Why i outta-“

- You tell him you’re just very happy and emotional right now and not sad. And, no, Scott did nothing wrong so please put him down oh my gosh…

- It’s true you were very emotional and hormonal the whole time and you were so ready to be done

- A week later, in the middle of the night you got up to use the bathroom for the 5th time. Not wanting to wake up Logan over and over just to walk to the bathroom, you went alone, waddling to the door.

- The second you got there though there you immediately started leaking. And you would’ve been embarrassed of you didn’t immediately have the worst braxton, no….this wasn’t that…this was more…

- ��Logan. Logan!”

- Logan jumped up and and ran over to you asking what happened and what’s wrong..

- You start to tell him and suddenly you’re hit again with another contraction

- It was time.

- Logan woke up everyone he could after getting you tot he medical room.

- He left the students be but it’s not like they couldn’t hear you yelling anyways

- He stood by you the entire time as you squeezed his hand and cried in pain. He almost growled at Jean hooking you up the machines but he knew it was to monitor if you and the baby were okay.

- He was so focused on you that he didn’t care for everyone crowding also but when it was time to push he barked for everyone to get back even Jean

- He let you squeeze the life out of his hand as you pushed and encouraged you the whole time and wiped your forehead

- And after several minutes of this chaos…

- “Congratulations…you guys are now officially parents!” Jean says as she holds the crying newborn baby.

- As she helped lay the baby on your bare chest, you and Logan just smiled at your child.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss It Better

Curly (mouthwashing) x reader

AN: No one asked for this but CURLY DESERVED BETTER-!

Sum: You were taking care of Curly, your partner, when you just had to ask him a question that was burning you as much alive as the cockpit burned him. Did he actually crash the ship?

Warnings: 18+, gore, medical situations, Jimmy, violence, just mouthwashing in general, ablism, lots of medical stuff (from someone that knows way to much about medical shit because of being in and out of the hospital all her life)

“Morning honey.” You would force yourself to smile. You had to. You had to for him. To give him hope like he always gave you. To be a little bit of real sunshine through the day. Just wanted to take care of him. Give Anya some kind of break.

A wheeze was your greeting.

Wasn’t like it was his fault. He couldn’t really speak right now. You wondered if he would ever speak again. You would miss his voice but it’s worth it for him to live. He will live, you knew he would. You would make sure of it.

“Let’s have a look at you.” You would grab the clipboard that Anya left for you and took a look over. The small little list to help you understand how to care for his issues. When to wash him, what time his medications were, whatever routine was needed for that day. Was your Bible so to speak. You followed it to the last ink splotch.

“Your bandages don’t look to need to be changed yet, your IV bag needs to be changed, I’ll check your catheter, and yada yada yada. Wanna try and swallow today? Maybe if you can swallow some water I can grind up the pain pills into powder for you. Wanna try?”

He gave two distinct blinks for yes.

“Wonderful. Let me do this routine, so you can mentally prepare.” You would explain, as you went to slip on the latex gloves. Didn’t want to risk transferring some kind of infection. He’s already fighting for his life as it is. No need to make it harder.

You would first change out his IV bag, since he needed to stay as hydrated and fed nutrients as possible, before working on the awkward catheter. Luckily Anya made it very easy to use. She had opted for a condom catheter since she didn’t want to put himself at anymore risk to infections, and pain, as possible. Seemed the trauma made it rather impossible to control his bowls anyway so it worked out. All you had to do was drain the bag, wash it, and reattach it to the side of the table. Wasn’t like he was going to be moving around much anyway.

“So Daisuke was showing me his gameboy. Teaching me about how the lore works and all that. I really had no idea what he was talking about, but it’s better than Swansea snoring.” You laughed, and did your best to keep yourself peppy. To help Curly feel somewhat involved with society. To not just be trapped in the med bay alone. Daisuke and Swansea would visit, and Anya did what she could medically, but sometimes you just need someone to talk to.

“Think it’s a rouge like game. That’s nice. Helps keep you entertained with wanting to break through more and more dungeons in one session.” You rambled, before reattaching the bag. Had you sigh in relief to see you didn’t mess up the chord. Some urine had already started to fill the bag. Must have been triggered by the new IV. Good good. Everything was correct.

“You ready?” You asked, as this was always the hardest part. Getting medication in him. Anya would do her best but you couldn’t blame her for struggling. It’s such a mental tax to try and take care of someone but it results in more pain. You were willing to take that burden. You were his partner after all. You felt it’s only fair you take care of him. Gave Anya some breathing room to actually care for herself. She deserved to take care of herself to.

With two clear blinks you would get to work.

You would slip your hand under his back, and forced him to sit up. He groaned in pain, and tried his best to keep his head upright, as you two tried to work together. To survive this. To try and fight through.

“You are doing so well.” You reassured, as your brought the water bottle up to his open mouth. He was able to let his head hang back, and did what he could to open his throat. Was awkward, but he managed to do it. He took a proper swallow of water. You could hardly hide your excitement.

“You did it! Oh my god you did it!” You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek. It hurt, of course, but he very much felt it was worth it. He had his own pride in being able to do some kind of basic human function again.

You would lay him back down, and was quick to grind up medication to put in the water bottle. You couldn’t wait to tell Anya his progress. You were positive the rest of the crew would be happy to hear the progress.

Well…..Most of the crew.

You used your anger towards Jimmy to help you grind the pain killers into powder. Oh how you hated him. You knew deep down he was responsible for the crash. You knew he was. You weren’t sure why he would be, but you just knew that Curly would never. If he had to, for whatever reason, he would have come on to the intercom to inform everyone to prepare for a crash. He would have done something. Anything.

What purpose would there be in crashing the ship?

Jimmy was his copilot. He would be the only other person to have access to the cockpit. He had to have been involved somehow. There had to have been something going on. You just knew it.

You just wish you had proof.

You sighed, as you would shake up the powder in the bottle. Made sure it was fully dissolved to avoid any issues with it going down his throat.

You just couldn’t understand.

Why would Jimmy crash the ship?

You would return back to curly, and do the same routine again. Slow, and small, drips into his throat. Would take a while, and would make your arm beg for death, but this would make life easier for Curly. That’s all that mattered. A arm cramp is worth it to help Curly survive.

“Curly…..Since you are more lucid now I….I just gotta ask something.”

The way his eye darted towards you said he knew what you were going to ask. Knew that it’ll be asked. He knew, and he couldn’t help but try and look towards the door. As if afraid someone would walk in.

That had you very concerned.

“…..Jimmy crashed the ship, didn’t he?” You whispered. Tried to be as hush as possible, in case someone did overhear. Was just the slow drips of the water into his dry mouth, and you.

One blink.

Two blinks.

“I fucking knew it.” You gritted your teeth, as you felt stupid to ever even have the slightest doubt that any possible reality there would be that Curly would do such a thing.

“I wish I could ask you why. Do…Do you know why?” You had to ask. You just needed to know. Know if Jimmy was as dangerous as you thought.

One blink.

T-

“How’s the captain doing?”

You would turn your head sharply, and saw Jimmy. Just standing there. God you were terrified how long he had been there. Did he hear what you asked? Didn’t seem so. Jimmy was a very aggressive person. He snapped at the slightest tone shift. If he heard you ask a question like that you wouldn’t be talking now.

“He’s….Alive.” You were caught rather off guard. You didn’t know what to say. You were scared of him. You had to be brave, though. You had a better chance at defending yourself. Curly couldn’t.

You would hear his heavy foot steps come closer, and out right feel his body heat against yours. Just looking over your shoulder. Was like this burning shadow over you. Made you feel like you’ll be squashed like a bug.

“Has he been able to talk yet?”

That’s a weird question to ask. Why not ask how he’s feeling, what progress he’s made, how his vitals are. Why is him talking on the front of his mind?

Because Curly knew something he shouldn’t.

“No. I think he’s lost his voice for good. I don’t think he’s ever going to speak again.” You lied, as you finished the test of the bottle. Returned your partner back on the table, and spun around. Nose to chest to the man. Had you terrified, but you must be brave. For Curly.

“Damn. Rough for him. No more barking orders, huh?” Jimmy tried to joke, but you could only give an awkward laugh at. Mostly to keep from pissing him off.

If he’s willing to crash a ship what else is he willing to do?

“Did you need something?” You managed to force out, as you grabbed the clipboard. Just trying to find an excuse to not look directly at Jimmy. To have a motive as to why you would stay in the med bay longer than most. Just anything to get Jimmy to leave you two alone.

“Hey, I give a shit to about him. Is it criminal to care about my friend?” He snapped at you, and it made you grab your clipboard tighter. You swore he seemed to smirk at seeing you so startled. Like he got off to the idea that he got the captains sweetheart scared.

That he’s the new boss.

“Never said that. You are the co pilot and new captain. You-“ “Pilot now. As if he’s ever going to steer a ship again. Not even a wheelchair with those stumps.” He snorted, as you wanted to smack him across the face.

“Yes….As the new Pilot and Captain I would figure you would be swamped in work. Like finding a way for us to contact help. Kinda the biggest priority after Curly. Anya and I are busy with him. You, Daisuke, and Swansea can handle the rest.”

You noticed how he seemed to roll his eyes about Anya. As if he couldn’t care less about the woman. Made you curious on what kind of beef he would have with her. She’s Anya! Who hated her?

“Yeah. Guess you are right there.” He muttered, as if it was never on his mind. Never an option that they could escape. Oh how you were getting chills.

“Keep on trucken then. Take care of our Captain Cripple. His ass needs all the help his stumpy limbs can get.” He would give him a once over, before looking at you. You made sure to keep your eyes to the clipboard instead. All you did was nod in acknowledgment, before he left.

“What are we going to do, Curly?” You sighed, as you would just lay next to him in defeat. What can you do? You had no idea. Curly was always such a good captain. Made you regret never paying more attention to how he worked the cock pit. Maybe if you did you could be more useful.

As you were full of worry and regret, Curly would weakly try and turn his head. Naked teeth were against his cheek. A attempt to kiss your cheek the best he could.

You smiled at the gesture, and made sure to be careful with snuggling your face into his shoulder.

“I’ve got you, and you got me. We can do this. I know it.” You reassured you both, as you closed your eyes. There to wait until his pain medication kicked in, so he could sleep.

As you relaxed, you couldn’t help but swear something was strange about his breathing.

It was like….He was saying words.

You would focus as hard as you could on your ears, as he would drift in and out of his buzzed state. Fighting to stay awake, but sleep coming for him.

“A….a…n…ya…..Kn….ows……”

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle a.d.

pairing: Art Donaldson x reader prompt: Imagine being that parent who always brings baked goods to the PTA meetings and generally getting along with everyone really well. But for some reason Art Donaldson says something that rubs you the wrong way one night. warnings: smut 18+, car sex, piv, cheating, adults acting like horny teenagers, flashbacks, not proofread word count: 2.4K a/n: I wrote this in one sitting just from seeing this post 🤭

part ii | part iii | part iv

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

He notices he’s offended you by the way you stop talking directly to him, looking everywhere but him. Smiling at everyone but him. You’re giving your undivided attention to anyone who speaks but when he opens his mouth you seem much more interested in your nails.

Art has known you since he's been coming to these meetings. He knows that you offer a polite smile to everyone, but he'd grown used to the small smiles you'd give him. The secret grins and the sarcastic eye rolls you shared with him when Nancy got a bit too controlling or when Dan overshared about his marriage.

You would playfully nudge his elbow when Cynthia inevitably brought up her small knitting business. You’d been initially interested, always loving a good sweater, until you found out the only things she knit were small replicas of pets.

You would discreetly play tic tac toe or hangman on a napkin while the more aggressive moms argued about where to host the next school event, or when the guest speaker for the night would drone on and on.

Once, you baked snickerdoodle cookies and Art ate three of them in one sitting, then asked to take some home for “Lily.” So, you made sure to bake snickerdoodle cookies almost every time you brought snacks. Everyone knew the circular red tin you’d bring was Art’s.

The two of you didn’t really talk outside of the PTA, but Art considered you his friend at these things.

Which is why he should've known not to bring up your recently divorced ex-husband during the meeting. He’d simply been trying to make sure the headcount for this year’s Fall Fest committee was right after Nancy had thrusted the clipboard into his hands. He was tasked with making sure everyone on the list was still showing up. When Art asked you if your husband would still be attending, you went silent, your lips tensing up like you’d tasted something sour.

“Are you really asking me that right now?”

Art stammered. “I just wasn’t sure…”

You scoffed at him disbelieving.

“Well when he finally gets his head out of that whore’s ass then maybe he’ll be able to let you know.”

He doesn’t say anything.

Before he hands the clipboard back, he makes sure to draw a line through your ex-husband’s name.

Art tries to apologize after the meeting is over. Insisting on walking you to your car and carrying your dessert containers back for you. His self deprecating little smile makes you roll your eyes, but you turn for him to follow you anyway. You silently lead the way to your car keeping a couple steps ahead of him. Despite his attempts to look away, Art’s eyes stay glued to the sway of your hips the whole way.

Once you pop the trunk and gesture for him to place the containers down, you finally look him in the eyes for the first time since he’d pissed you off. Art shoves his hands in his pockets, telling you he’s really sorry for what he said. That he wasn’t thinking. He wants to make it up to you.

You purse your lips, look at the way his eyes seem hopeful yet a little too pleading for an offense so small. You tilt your head to the side, taking in his features before eventually telling him that “it’s fine,” and that you forgive him. He seems to visibly relax at this and you can’t help wondering why he would be so hung up on your forgiveness. After all, it was really an overreaction on your part.

You tell him as much and reassure him that you don’t need anything, he doesn’t need to make it up to you. He grabs your hand then, insisting that he wants to.

Art has always been this way, you think, all placating and overly apologetic when he thinks he’s done something wrong. You’d chalked it up to the media training you know he must’ve received. Being agreeable probably made his PR manager’s job ten times easier. Not that you didn’t believe he was genuinely a kind person, but you knew even Art might be overcompensating every now and then.

You’d seen the way he could be snarky without remorse before. The two of you would basically laugh about it later. You’d also seen how he never hid the way his eyes would linger on your cleavage. The way he’d give you a small, bashful smile when you’d catch him, his smirk only growing wider the more you blushed.

Art Donaldson could be sneaky.

ᯓ

He’d never been ashamed about being touchy with you. Placing a warm hand on your arm or back when greeting one another, letting his fingers skim your hand on the table next to his while he listened to speakers. The touching seemed innocent enough until one night when he’d walked you to your car after the two of you had stayed longer. You had been distracted during the meeting.

Art stayed and listened as you told him about your husband and how he’d come home late after you planned a romantic evening for the two of you the night before. You made sure your son was at your parents’ house, made his favorite meal, and lit candles around the house. The two of you had decided to schedule date nights per your therapist’s suggestion. When 1 am rolled around, and your husband had returned none of your calls, you scraped the food into tupperware containers and got ready for bed. He came home with apologies and excuses about getting caught up in the office. He had already eaten, and he smelled of a perfume you didn’t own but had grown to recognize.

That night, you told Art that you were sure your husband was cheating on you. He told you that he understood how you felt. You didn’t believe him. Tashi was perfect.

After your tears had dried, and Art managed to pull a few laughs out of you, the both of you decided it was time to call it a night. You moved to give Art a casual hug, but he wrapped his arms around you so tightly that you couldn’t help but melt into it, burying your face in his chest. You remembered him smelling warm, like amber.

Art had rubbed your back as he held you, whispered that he was sorry that your husband was a dumbass. You huffed out a laugh, pulling away to look at him. He’d brought his hand up to your cheek, his other hand on the small of your back. You smiled at him through your eyelashes before letting your head drop down with a sigh.

Your cheeks burned as you took in how your legs were tangled with his. Art had tilted his head to get a better look at you again, but you’d stuck to hiding your face against his chest.

He huffed and let his chin fall to your shoulder. You still refused to look his way, turning to watch some trees. You felt both his hands on your back now.

“What are you thinking about?” He whispered.

“That we said we should go home like 5 min ago.” His hands traveled lower. “You?” You asked shakily. You could feel his breath warm against your neck.

“That I might not be any better than your husband.”

Your eyes widened. Art’s palms firmly cupped your ass. In contrast, his lips were pressed gently to the skin of your neck.

“Art!” Your hands flew to his hair.

He laughed into your neck.

You slapped his arm, but when his eyes met yours and his lips were mere inches away from yours, you let your eyes flutter shut.

His breath fanned your lips. He smelled like snickerdoodle cookie.

Then, his phone rang.

Art had pulled away from you, turning around to answer the call. You could tell it was Tashi. He’d been honest, telling her that he’d stayed late talking to you. At the mention of your name, he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Tashi says hi.”

ᯓ

The two of you never brought up the almost kiss again, but you knew Art hadn’t been sorry. The next time he saw your husband, he’d smirked and told him how lucky he was to have such a great wife. Your husband, ever the narcissist, soaked it all in, pulling you in by the waist, showing you off like a shiny toy. When he turned away, Art had winked at you.

ᯓ

So, you know that Art is either laying it on thick or feels extremely remorseful about reminding you of your cheating ex-husband.

When he grabs your hand, insisting on finding some way to make it up to you, you see a look of desperation in his eyes that looks new.

Your eyes drop to where his large hand covers your own, then they travel up his toned arm until you find his face, flitting between his eyes and his lips. And for some reason, you’re leaning in. Maybe it’s your way of reassuring him that you guys are good. Either way, he’s not moving back. You’re gripping his forearm with your free hand and suddenly your lips are on his.

You’re not sure if it was his tongue or yours that first went seeking out the other, but now you two are sharing sloppy kisses on the empty school parking lot.

When his left palm presses into your cheek and you feel that cold metal band sting your skin, you pull away with a gasp, remembering where you are, who he is, and that he has a damn wedding ring on. This is Art. PTA Art. You know his wife, for god’s sake. You’ve hosted play dates between their daughter and your son. You carpool with them. You curse and back away from him.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have...”

Art shakes his head, stepping closer to you. He’s looking at you with those damn eyes again. Like he’ll break if you say the wrong thing.

“I—we, we shouldn’t have done that, Art.”

He shakes his head again. Your palm comes up to hold him back, but it doesn’t work as he simply grabs ahold of the hand on his chest and presses himself against you more. His forehead comes down to lean on yours. His eyes closed.

“You don’t understand,” he sighs. “I want you.”

“But you’re married Art…”

“I want you.” He repeats. “I’ve wanted you…for awhile now.”

And though you already know this, it still shocks you that he’s actually saying it now. Before you have time to register it, he’s back on you and you don’t know if it’s because you’re afraid to break him or if you’ve just always been this selfish, but you let him press you against the trunk of your car. You let him push his tongue into your mouth, let his big hands knead the flesh of your hips and ass. Let him lick and nip at your neck, nibble on your earlobe.

You let Art push you into the backseat of your car. You let him settle between your legs, guiding his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He’s pressing his hips into yours rocking against you as he pushes your top up. Art’s hands frantically work at your bra, impatiently bending the wire in the process of taking it off. You gasp at his eagerness but can’t say anything as he’s already wrapping his mouth around your nipple making you arch your back up off the leather seats. His hands are gripping your thighs and shoving your skirt up when he releases your nipple with a pop.

He’s up long enough to tear his shirt off and for your equally impatient hands to reach for his pants. His shorts are barely past his balls before he’s back on you. Kissing all over your lips, jaw, neck. Art groans when his fingers find their way to your soaked underwear, rubbing his thumb from your slit to your clit through the fabric. You whine and rock your hips into each movement. You pant into his open mouth as he pulls them to the side, letting the air hit your bare cunt. He dips his thumb into your entrance then drags it up to sloppily circle your clit.

You’re moaning loudly into his mouth, begging him for more. Art smiles against your lips as he takes himself in his hand. He lets his head sweetly kiss your sticky clit, and he asks if you want him to put it in.

You nod eagerly.

"Yeah?" He grunts, tapping his head against you in a taunting manner.

You nod again and let him press against your opening.

Art covers your mouth with his when he finally pushes into you, stifling both of your moans. He gets his arms around your waist, holding you as he rocks into your pussy. You’re whimpering and squeezing around him like you haven’t had dick in years, and Art thinks he might pass out when you start bucking up into him and begging him to fuck you.

He doesn’t even care that he won’t last long. He can’t deny you. So, he wraps your thighs tighter around his waist and pushes himself forward. Your mouth falls open as Art slides out and pushes back into you with a grunt. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at the short strands. You mouth at his jaw as his thighs slap against you.

Art buries his head into your neck as he frantically fucks into your tight hole, and he’s whining that he’s close. His fingers that have been playing with your clit are slippery with your juices and you clench your thighs, nodding with him in agreement.

You end up letting Art Donaldson cum inside you. You let him rub your clit until you orgasm around his dick that’s still buried in you.

You let him help you redress. He’d winced when he saw the mess he made of you between your legs. You ignore the way you can tell he wants to say sorry.

Once you’re both dressed and you’re standing against your car with wobbly legs, Art tells you that he still wants to make it up to you.

You roll your eyes.

“Good night, Art.” You get into the driver’s seat.

��I’m serious.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle. You look back at him and his pleading eyes and his pathetic yet charming smile.

“Your wife has my number.”

And then, you shut the door.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: reader reminds me of Anna Kendrick’s character in A Simple Favor, sweet but also kinda toxic

thanks for inspiring this @artdcnaldson <3

[yanderefarm]

Hihiii

Nephite when an other follower/ omega tryed to get with us?

yandere omega cultist nephite

cw;; religion, cults, omegaverse, violence

nephite is the least physically violent of the ocs ive posted so far but that doesn't take away from how scary he can be. he's so loyal to the church he has a lot of power for an omega.

y/n: do you know what happened to him?

nephite: he received divine punishment ^.^

y/n: right. i forgot you're crazy again.

nephite can't even breathe when he sees one of the slightly younger omegas flirting with you at a potluck. you're completely unreceptive to the advances of course. but he can't help but hear these words in his ears.

"alphas always prefer young omegas"

right now you were ignoring this harlot but for how long? how long before he became old and undesirable? nephite chewed his thumb nail until he broke the skin, only actually stopping because his mother pulled his hand away. she scolded him gently as she cleaned up his booboo but he couldn't look at her, he couldn't hear her. his sister noticed and teased him a little for getting so worked up over a random omega.

they were right. it was silly. he stuffed it down but he still spent the whole night attached to your hip.

it was fine.

but that omega didn't stop. if you left the house that omega would come find you and immediately start talking to you. his hands would press against your chest, his arms would wrap around one of your own, he would lean his body into you every chance he got. nephite's usually bright eyes would go dead the moment he saw the younger omega. what was he supposed to say? that filth never did it when he was right next to you, always waiting for you to be alone. and its not like it got more suggestive than just flirting. but it was driving nephite insane.

one day nephite was holding a sacred texts study group for omegas at your home. he had been so excited to be the host for this meeting, he spent the whole day making snacks for it! only to find, to his horror, that omega also arrived. you had decided to stay out of the living room while his group was going on but that just meant that horrible harlot could really get you alone! nephite had tried so hard to watch him like a hawk but he'd also gotten too into the discussion with the others. he never even realized when that omega disappeared from the group.

after everyone left he headed to your shared bedroom, excited to tell you about how it went. his hands pressed the door and his eyes immediately went dead. you were sitting on the bed with that omega, just talking. you had been showing him a book you'd been reading recently. his hand was on your knee. his shirt was unbuttoned. nephite felt dizzy, delirious with all the dark emotions bubbling in his stomach. he thought about killing that harlot right here, cutting off the filthy hands that dared to touch you.

you snapped him out of it, asking if group was over and then saying that harlot should leave. you escorted him to the door like a real gentleman. you asked him what was bothering him, if his group had gone poorly. nephite had practically tackled you into the bed, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in your chest. he cried well into the night about all his insecurities and worries about you leaving him. and with every tear there was your reassuring hand in his hair, soothing him gently.

but that wasn't enough. the next day he went to confession with a pair of his frilly underwear stuffed in his pocket. he told the pastor the truth. mostly. he exaggerated the amount of adultery that harlot had really done so far. the pastor seemed to know he was being lied to but he trusted that nephite would only be bringing someone to his attention if they were a filthy sinner. the frilly underwear were icing on the cake. he told the pastor that he found them in the sinner's home along with a plan to seduce you.

they made a big show of dragging that sinner through the compound. wherever he was going he would never be coming back from. he caught nephite's eyes as he was dragged crying and screaming through the street. nephite held your arm tighter a wicked smile on his face just long enough for that foolish sinner to catch.

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

------------------------------------------ 

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[evie-sturns]

Attitude - Matt Sturniolo

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

summary: matt comes to pick you up for a late night drive, but you show up with an attitude.

contains: highway sex/angry sex, swearing, arguing, dom/rough matt, mentions of an eating disorder.

all consensual!!!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

"I'm outside baby, you ready?" matt texts and i sigh. putting my phone in my pocket, and opening the front door.

the cold breeze of the night hits my face and a shiver runs through my body, i approach matts black van, illuminated by the street light shining down on it. matts inside, his face lit by his phone screen and i open the door to the passenger side, and climb inside with a huff.

"hey! you alright?" matt says smiling at me. "yeah im fine?" i say blankly and his smile drops slightly. he starts up the car and drives down the street. the awkward slience grows as matt approaches a red light. he sighs slightly "so what did you get up to today?" matt says breaking the silence and i ignore him. "y/n?" he says again louder.

"what!?" i say back angrily loudly and he rubs his eyes. "look do you want me to take you home, you seem a little bit tired." matt says calmly trying to keep himself contained. "no its fine?" i say quietly and crossing my arms.

he keeps driving along the highway, we haven't said a word to eachother in 15 minutes. suddenly matt pulls over on the side of the road and looks at me, sighing loudly. "y/n look, youve said 3 words this whole time, if your gonna keep acting like this i'm taking you home, i was really fucking excited about spending time with you but you clearly are not feeling the same." he says through gritted teeth as he looks away.

"yeah maybe i dont wanna be here! ive been so fucking tired this week and i quite frankly would rather be asleep. so take me home!" i snap back and matt stays silent, turning the car back on and turning it around. "waste of time." i hear matt mutter under his breath and breathe in shakily, dont cry dont cry. "just pull over for fucks sake!" i say on the verge of tears. "yeah now you want to talk to me?" matt growls as he slams the breaks on and pulls over. "you shouldntve snaped at me matt." i say quietly. "i snapped at you?" matt scoffs "ive been nice this whole time, and youve been huffing in the passenger seat the whole. fucking. time." matt says in disbelief.

"your such a fucking asshole, just accept im fucking tired for once, oh wait nevermind, you cant relate because your life is literally perfect." matts breath hitches in his throat "get in the back." he says loudly. i stay perfectly still. "now." matt says again and i stay still. he gets out of the car onto the highway and walks around the car to my door and opens it quickly, picking me up aggressively.

he places me on the grass next to the car, nobody on the highway can see us since are covered by the van.

my stomach flips as i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs. he kneels down behind me and reaches a hand on my lower back, forcing me to arch.

he rips my shorts down and scoffs "no panties and fucking soaked, pathetic." he says amused as he tugs my shirt over my head. "honestly pathetic." he says again before slapping my pussy causing me to yelp.

he yanks down his sweatpants as i'm on display for him on all fours, my back is arched patiently waiting. "please" i whine and he instantly slaps my ass "dont talk." he replies instantly before lining himself up with my leaking hole. he slams his whole cock into me causing me to scream and try to reach behind me and push him, instead he grabs both my wrists and hold them behind my back.

his thrusts instantly start, giving me no time to adjust to his 7 inches. he slams into me, pulling both of my wrists, causing me to arch my back even more, i scream and he quickens his pace "shut the fuck up." he growls as he goes faster. without warning i clench around his cock and orgasm, causing him to slip out and he instantly realeses his grip on my wrists, causing me to fall face first into the grass, humiliating me. i roll over onto my back and he slams himself back into me before i even have time to adjust my position.

tears are pouring out of my eye from how sensitive i am. "fuckk.." he growls as he twitches inside of me and instantly cums inside of me, thrusting a few more times, pushing it deep inside of me. before pulling out and collapsing on the grass beside me.

we lay in the cold night air for 10 minutes before he sits up, breaking the silence. "are you okay.. im sorry." he says shakily before standing up and picking me up. "i-..uh.." i stammer, still processing what just happened. he opens the door to the backseat and places me down, he quickly puts on his jeans and joins me in the backseat. "i got you my shirt, i assumed you wouldn't want to get changed into all your clothes so i have these aswell.." he pulls some panties out of his pocket "from uh.. last time." his cheeks go red and i laugh slightly "thank you baby." i say sliding on my panties and his t-shirt. he man spreads in the backseat, pulling me onto his lap.

"do you wanna talk about it.. ya know.. the argument" he says and i nod "well um i just.." i pause then continue "first of all im really sorry, i know you're tired too, and you honestly have a much harder life than me, ive just had a bad week, i dont wanna get into it but my uh, my eating got alot worse, ive found it hard to."

(30 minutes later)

after crying into matts chest for several minutes he took me to his home and fed me everything in his pantry, then cuddled with me in bed.

"are you feeling better? um, im sorry i went so rough earlier." matt says embarrassed, covering his face with his hands.

"aside from me not being able to walk up your stairs now, im fine."

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ik i didnt color code the speech but i honestly couldnt be bothered whatsoever!!!!!

anyways hope yall liked, also request shit for me to write in my inbox

[81folklore]

robin - LECLERC

pairings charles leclerc x fem!singer!reader (fc: gigi hadid + pinterest)

summary fans get a look at charles’ family

warnings a baby + pregnancy (the baby is the entire plot point and one pregnancy mention) poorly translated french, some taylor swift songs are used as readers songs. HUGE TIMESKIPS (sorry lol)

notes we are BACK!! for the time being at least,, sorry for being gone again😣 also im using gigi again because i had this one specific photo in mind of her pregnant!!

notes 2 kind of short but i want to try and gain some more motivation buuuut in my absence from writing ive created a rec blog so i can show you all my favorite works by all the incredible writers on here! @81folklore-library

masterlist

yourusername • may 2020

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,283,693 others

(im)patiently waiting to meet you tiger 🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc you are glowing mama🌟

yourusername charlie🥹

lewishamilton cant wait to meet the little one, you’re doing amazing yn!

yourusername thank you lewis💜

user44 you are gorgeous omg

user23 i can’t believe charles is going to be a dad soon

user2 it feels like its flown by

user17 i love that they call their baby tiger☹️

user6 me too!! i hope it sticks as a nickname

arthur_leclerc lunch again soon?

yourusername of course art! let me know when🤍

yourusername • january 2021

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3,930,519 others

our little tiger blessed our lives a few months ago and we couldnt feel more overjoyed to have her. we want to thank those around us for their continued support during our first months of parenthood

tiger, we cant wait you grow into a beautiful young girl and we are already so proud of you🐯🩵

tagged charles_leclerc

view comments

charles_leclerc so happy i get to be a dad with you🩵

charles_leclerc i love you so much im so proud of you

yourusername i love you charlie, thank you for everything

lorenzotl toi et charlie êtes de merveilleux parents 🩷🩷 (translation you and charlie are wonderful parents)

yourusername merci! revenez bientôt, vous êtes toujours le bienvenu! (translation thank you! come back soon, you are always welcome!

user55 theyre parents🥹🥹

user80 oh im sobbing this is so lovely😭😭

user17 they still call her tiger☹️☹️

user49 im confused is that the babies name?

user17 no they just call her tiger in public, we dont know her name! they started calling her tiger when they found out they were going to be parents and it seems to have stuck!!

liked by yourusername

user32 i was listening to never grow up when i saw this post🥹🥹

user47 congratulations guys!!

yourusername • september 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and 5,291,649 others

happy birthday little tiger, it has been a joy to watch you grow into the wonderful girl that you are (please stop mama cant handle you getting bigger🥹)

you are so incredibly loved and i hope you feel that every day, i hope you have a wonderful day today and everyday baby!

happy birthday love mama and papa🐯🩵

view comments

charles_leclerc happy birthday angel, we love you🐯

olliebearman happy birthday tiger!!

yourusername see you soon darling🩷

lewishamilton i can’t believe she is already four🥹💜

yourusername time really flies by🥹

user67 SHES SO BIG NOW😭

user5 right?! i remember when yn posted her on charles back☹️

user52 these pictures are so cute oh my god😭😭☹️☹️

user60 actually my favorite family ever🥹

user21 i feel so emotional knowing ive watched this family grow

user19 is anyone else sad charles hasnt posted the annual story?

user37 theres no way he just stops,, she has so many more songs☹️

user66 wait im new what are we talking about?

user37 because charles and yn write the birthday captions together, charles started posting a picture of tiger with a song yn has written about children or babies etc (example: last year it was never grow up!) and she has so many more songs that would fit but he hasnt made one this year :(

yourusername & charles_leclerc • september 2024

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 6,280,740 others

tiger its your birthday surprise; Robin out now🐯

comments on this post have been limited

yourusername📌 ps robin is not tigers name🩵

charles_leclerc thank you for letting me on a song🫶

yourusername always baby

charles_leclerc we love you tiger🐯

charles_leclerc added to their story

[song used: Robin by yn text: way to go tiger🐯🩵]

seen by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,279,940 others

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twitter

[readymades2002]

genuinely it is difficult having cultivated the like. taste in fiction that i have now that i am in a place where i'm trying to talk to people more and make friends and so on and so forth and this is the field i'm having to play on with them. i don't think anyone has to be critic-brained (i do think its good to recognize that media is Authored and to look at things with both eyes open but some people simply enjoy things in other ways and i may get irritated by that but i don't suppose its Wrong) and i have in fact met people who Will meet me in that field but it doesnt change that the field i like to play in is much different and no one is expected to meet me there in the same way i am expected to play ball with marvel fans