#seeing this live actually changed my life

[yeonmuse]

— “You haven’t changed”

( pairing) - nerd!Heeseung x f!r 3kwc + smut. not proofread!! 3rd pov Contains!! Mentions of sexual themes/mean heeseung [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

Authors notes, for some reason its not letting me link this post to the actual request, so hopefully whoever requested this sees it

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @jiamini @sol3chu @right-person-wrong-time @riribelle

You and Your boyfriend both shared a mutual agreement that your relationship was strictly for show, or at least that was the terms you had given him. After the two of you had been caught cozying up to one another, at one of Jake's parties. Since then people had started putting the two of you with one another and you had simply accepted it. Jay was tired of the swarm of girls that’d surrounded him when he arrived on campus and you didn’t care for any of the guys there because all of them acted the same. Obviously Jay knew what he had been getting himself into with making you his girlfriend though, after all you were one of the most sought out girls in the university's freshman class.

Not to mention you were the dean's daughter, which meant everyone would either suck up to you or go through him thinking it’d get them into your mothers good graces. Though little did they know you yourself were slipping through the cracks of your mothers sincerity. Your grades were slipping bringing you from rank 1 to rank 2 of top scoring students on campus. Number one being Yang Jungwon and Number two being Lee Heeseung, a man you had known all too well since middle school. He was a friend of your eldest brother, the two of them having been friends so long tbz you couldn’t remember a time where Heeseung wasn’t at your house, sat on the couch playing video games with your brother. All you knew wanted him was that the boy owned more keyboards than he knew people, and the only reason you had known that was because you once heard him and your brother talking about it in discord.

That's all there ever did though, and you found him and your brother to be agonizingly boring. All they had ever done was play games, snack on junk food and waste away in their parents' attic playing d&d or reading old comics. Of course your mother loved Heeseung, damn near treated him like her son right along with you and your brother, and yet it didn’t make you any more interested in him than you had once been as kids.

Finally making it back to your apartment after having gotten chewed out by your mom and sat through an agonizing number of classes you were relieved to finally have some peace. Though your temporary serenity was interrupted as you heard a knock on the door forcing you up from the couch and having you stride over to the door. The scowl on your face had immediately changed to a smile as you found your brother on the other side.

“Anton!?” His arms wrap around you catching you in a tight embrace as you leapt into his arms, not having seen him in almost a year since he had chosen to travel instead of going to college.

“You haven’t grown at all.”

“Don’t start, look at you all grown up. What are you doing here?!” Your little brother had in fact grown up, ditching his glasses, old plaid button ups and bowl cut he’d always rocked when the two of you were younger. He looked like a man now, and he had grown tall enough to surpass you in height, meaning you no longer had anything to tease him about.

“I talked to mom and she said you lived here, I was hoping..to crash her for a few days?”

“Anton seriously…why can’t you just go to mom and dads?” You groan knowing that if he stayed here your peace would fly out the window.

“You know how that goes everytime, I’m tired of arguing with them over my life plans.”

“Are they really still on your ass about not going to college?”

“Mom and dad, what do you think?” You sigh as he places you back onto your feet.

“Please?” Rolling your eyes at his sad attempt to sway you , you slide over letting him inside.

“Penthouse suite, you always were a spoiled princess.”

“For your information, I’m paying myself..well our parents are helping but I wouldn’t have felt alright with them paying it all.”

“Yeah you’re crazy I'd have let them pay it all.” He says flopping down onto the couch.

“So how long do you plan on staying exactly?”

“Four days tops, then I’ll be on the move again.”

“Are you still in that band?”

“Yup, we’re on break at the moment.”

“Mm you always did love music, though you were too busy hanging out with Heeseung and Sohee.”

“Oh right Heeseung, you two go to the same university right?”

“How do you know?” You snorted, making your brother roll his eyes in response.

“‘Mom how else?”

“I don’t know ive never seen him on campus, I only know he goes there because mom is always talking about him and you, and he passed me in the ranks for the top scholars.”

“You? A top scholar?” At your brother's reaction you grabbed the nearest thing to you, chucking it at his head.

“Okay okay, no more water bottles, I was only joking.”

Your phone rings interrupting your chat with your brother, slipping your hand into your pocket you pull out your phone and step away from the living room to answer the call.

“Yes Jay.”

“Well hell to you too sweetheart.”

“Jay I don’t have time for this, is this about something important or should I just hang up.”

“Won’t take up too much of your time sweetheart don’t worry, so the party at Jakes was canceled, his parents came home early from their trip, so we were all wondering, maybe we could move it to your place? It's been a while since you’ve thrown one.”

“Jay my brother is here. I can't just throw a party when he just got here.”

“You’re having a party?” Antons ears perk up at the mention of a party and he pushes himself up off the couch before making his way over to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a party” your eyes widen at your brother's sudden approval and you hear Jay chuckle on the other line.

“So is that a yes?”

__________

That was exactly how you ended up here, a house full of random strangers from camps you’d known absolutely nothing about because they had been friends of Jays rather than your own. You sat comfortably in Jay's lap, minding your business while he and his friends talked. Only getting up when you felt like you needed to throw back another drink to cure your boredom. Now you love a good party, but after the day you had you’d simply expected to just lie in bed and rest. As you had been making your way out of the kitchen you heard the faint sound of the doorbell making you audibly sigh as you sat your cup down and sauntered over to the door.

Pulling it open you were surprised to see none other than Lee Heeseung. By the looks of it he hasn't changed one bit, other than the fact that he had grown into his looks he still had dressed exactly the same as he did in high school.

“Heeseung?” You couldn’t hold back the shocked laugh that spilled from your lips.

Lee Heeseung? At a party?

“Yo Heeseung.” Heeseungs gaze shifted from you to your brother who had now been approaching the door with a goofy smile on his face.

“You actually came.” Your gaze shifts between Heeseung and your brother and you couldn’t help but laugh as you step aside and go back to your drink while the two talk

Maybe they hadn’t changed and both of them were just as nerdy and goofy as they had been when there were kids.

The rest of the night had gone by agonizingly slow for you, at some point the party began to die down and everyone had left, the only one staying behind being Heeseung so that he and your brother could catch up.

The two of them sat in the living room while you yourself sat on the kitchen counter stuffing your face with popcorn to cure your drunken dazed hunger.

“You haven’t changed one bit.” You let it slip past your lips in a drunken ramble, having thought it was something you said in your head rather than aloud.

“Did you say something yn?” Your brother asks, forcing Heeseung to turn his head and look at you as well

“Heeseung, he changed at all.” You respond still stuffing your mouth with popcorn

“You grew up a little, but Heeseung still looks the same, remember keely would call him the little nerdboy, and you geek charming.” You say with a small chuckle reliving the memory.

“Yeah, how much did you drink tonight exactly?” You roll her eyes in response.

“Enough to make me feel nice, not enough to make me drunk dad.” You respond sarcastically, making your brighter roll his eyes.

“Did you bring the game?” You could hear Anton ask, his and Heeseungs voices growing fainter and fainter as you made your way up the staircase and to your bedroom.

You had a peaceful shower, those heaven spent thirty minutes having sobered you up just enough. You had been getting ready to lay in bed when a knock at the door interrupted you mid climb. Letting out a frustrated groan you shuffled over to the door, feeling slightly annoyed that once again your peace had been interrupted. Yet you were surprised to see Heeseung on the other side.

“Heeseung?” For a moment he just stood there, his eyes scanning you before his arms snaked around your waist and he pushed you back into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Heeseung what”

“You’re so annoying, even after a year you’re still this annoying?”

“What-“

“You haven’t changed one bit, Jesus, you just don’t know when to stop talking.” He backs you against the door pressing your back directly into the knob making your face twist in discomfort.

“Heeseung, I was only joking.”

“Don’t care, you’ve been this way for as long as I can remember, you’d always have something to say about me, your brother too but I’m not so much interested in anything you’ve said about him.”

“You need to be humbled.” Before you had even had any time to register what was going on he shoves his hand into your shirt. His fingers tracing over your skin making goosebumps rise on your skin. His fingers squeeze your hips in a manner that forces you to stay pressed against him. His fingers slowly trailing down to your exposed thighs just below your shirt making you suck in a breath.

The side of his lips curled into a smirk as he heard a desperate whine that spilled past your plump lips, so quiet he’d damn near miss it if the room wasn’t so silent. The moment you opened your mouth to speak the sound of a slap rang throughout the room followed by a whine from you. Him having slapped your thigh to keep you quiet, focusing amusement in the way you used the back of your hand to try and suppress the noises that spilled past your lips.

“You’ve talked enough tonight.” His fingers immediately met your clit, pushing past your folds and slipping them right inside you with ease.

“Only sound I want to hear from you is your desperate little moans.” His thumb pressed against your clit as he started slowly, thrusting his fingers deep into you like he has done with you thousands of times.

“But A-Anton.” You force yourself to breathe out between ragged breaths, the way Heeseung continuously abuses your clit without letting up, making you squirm against the door.

“Went out to get snacks, told him I'd stay behind and look after you since you drank so much.” He responds by watching the way your face contorts between a look of pleasure and one of confliction.

Without hesitation he slipped in two more fingers, taking the time to stretch your walls and feel you out before he began to thrust them in and out slowly. The way you whine for him to move them faster only causes him to slow them down. His fingers thrust further into your cunt with every loud cry that left your mouth. He could tell you were getting annoyed with his sudden change in pace, he didn’t care though he thought it was what you deserved

“Heeseung” A chuckle spilled from his lips at how desperate you sounded.

“Hm? What is it baby hm? Too fast for you, should I slow it down some more?” He teases, slowing down the curling and thrusting of his fingers to an agonizingly slow pace.

“Look at you whining like a desperate little doll for some little nerdboy when you’ve got a boyfriend.” His eyes shoot to the mirror near your bedside and he forces you to stare straight ahead into it, giving you a perfect view of just how pathetic you looked, whining and whimpering while his fingers that were buried deep inside of you.

Finally forcing his fingers from your now dripping cunt he lifts you up throwing you onto your bed you had been coming into his mere moments ago. Face down ass up, with your hands pressed into your back, he has you completely vulnerable.

“Look at you, aren’t even trying not to give in, it's pathetic honestly. Is Jay not giving you what you need?” His hands traced your curves until his finger hooked within your panties, pulling them to the side.

“Fuck you’re already a mess” it took him less than a minute to shove his pants and boxers to the floor, the view of you making him all the more eager to take you right then and there. Something he had thought about time and time again since high school.

Your eyes rolled back immediately as Heeseung wasted absolutely no time and pushed himself inside of you until he fully bottomed out. Your tightness earned a low growl from him as he pushed so deep you could have sworn you felt him hit the top of your stomach. He watched the blissed out look on your face with every little thrust inside you.

“Taking me so well baby.” A chuckle spilled past his lips and he immediately spread your legs wider and pulled your ass up against him. Your moans were evident enough that whatever pain you felt from him stretching you out, if any had gone away. It was quite easy for him to get into the rythym of fucking into you, rough and feverish thrusts from the very beginning. Thrusts that caused your eyes to roll to the back of your head so hard you saw stars. He rolled his eyes and there was a hint of annoyance in his tone as he watched you force your face into the mattress trying to keep quiet.

Grabbing a fist full of your hair he forces your head back and presses you flat against his chest.

“Don’t try to be quiet now.” Your nails dug so deep into his thighs that you nearly drew blood. He watched the view from the mirror, watching the way strings of saliva dripped down your chin from the way your mouth hung open spilling pornographic moans.

“Look at you getting fucked by a nerd like me.” He immediately leans down to place kisses on your neck, your nipple between his fingers while his other hand fondles your breasts. The pleasure had been overwhelming your bodies in ways you hadn’t thought to be possible. From the feeling of his fingers against your breasts to every time he thrusted in to you feeling like the more he fucked the deeper into your stomach his cock seemed to push. Your thoughts had been so cloudy that you could barely even make out anything he had been talking to you about.

“Such a pretty little thing gonna cum all over my cock.” He immediately rested one hand on your waist while resting the other on your stomach and pushing down. He wanted to feel just how far his cock could go inside your little frame. This action was all it took to push you over the edge, the moment he pushed down upon your stomach your legs shook and it was a glorious sight for all of them to see, to see you squirt upon the impact of his hand. As you were finally able to pry your eyes open you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach. The sight of his hands wrapped around your waist holding you close to him as you came completely undone. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he watched you try and conceal your dazed condition.

“Yn? Did Heeseung leave?” Heesung couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard the sound of your brother calling him from the hall.

“Go ahead sweetheart, answer him.” He found it absolutely amusing, the very person you’d always tease and talk about as a kid had been fucking to into your matress making you a complete mess.

“U-um He- had to step o-out for a moment.”

“Did he say where he was going?” You mentally cursed and bit down on your lip to choke back a moan when Heeseungs fingers met your clit.

“A-An errand or something.”

“Errand? O..kay.”

When you finally heard him move away from the door and you weren’t even able to let out a sigh of relief. Your legs shook violently as Heeseung thrusts grew in speed and the low growls that spilled from his mouth made it all more easy for you to unravel right then and there, your cum spilling out onto his cock and he wasnt too far behind as the fucked out look on your face and the way you clenched around him was all he needed for him to spill into you.

Slipping his head into the crook of your neck he sucks harshly, leaving evidence that you were now tainted by him.

“Mmm now you have to go down there and keep him distracted so I can make it look like I left.”

“What? You expect me to go down there after this?”

“You want your brother to know you fucked one of his friends?”

“Fuck i like you better when you just sat in the room and played video games all day.”

[swappermanent]

(Wet) Dream Come True (Frank's POV)

Read the original by @immortalmrwavell here.

You might be wondering why I decided to take Max’s body from him. Trust me, I’ve asked myself the same question a hundred times since it happened. Was it selfish? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Well… not as much as you’d think.

When Max’s mom and I first got together, being a father figure wasn’t exactly in my plans. Sure, I cared for Max, but I was stepping into some big shoes. A stepdad is supposed to guide, support, and be there when things get tough, right? Well, how the hell do you guide someone through something like losing their mom? I wasn’t prepared for that. And Max—he may have been old enough to fend for himself at 20, but he wasn’t ready to face the world alone. I did my best, but the truth was, I didn’t know if I could keep holding everything together.

As the months went on, my mind started wandering to the past. What would it be like to be in my twenties again? To have that energy, that freedom? To feel like the world was yours for the taking? At first, it was just a fantasy I’d entertain when life got too heavy. A little daydream to escape reality. But then… something changed.

I came across this weird little magic shop while I was running errands. The kind of place you’d almost walk past without noticing, tucked between a laundromat and a pawn shop. I don’t even know what drew me in, but once I stepped inside, I found something I couldn’t ignore: a remedy that could swap bodies. The old man behind the counter explained it to me in hushed tones, like he was letting me in on some ancient secret. There was one catch, though—it had to be a mutual swap. Both parties had to, at least on some level, want to know what it’d be like to live in the other’s shoes. After that, all bets were off.

Now, let’s be real—what 20-something would actually agree to give up their youth, even for a little while? Sure, I was attractive and muscular. I’ve kept myself in good shape over the years, but still, I was in my mid-thirties. Most young guys wouldn’t see that as a fair trade. That’s when I started thinking about Max.

I’d caught the way he looked at me, those lingering glances when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. The way his cheeks would flush when I caught him staring, the awkward way he’d quickly change the subject. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he had a thing for me. I mean, hell, I’m flattered. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I could use that. Max wouldn’t just agree to the idea; he’d probably jump at the chance.

So, I decided to test the waters. One morning, over breakfast, I threw the idea out there casually, like it was just some funny hypothetical.

“This is gonna sound like a funny question,” I said, piercing a sausage with my fork, “but if you could choose to switch lives with me and have my body for however long, would you wanna do it?”

I kept my tone light, but I was watching him closely. The way he fidgeted in his seat, the way his cheeks turned pink as he tried to hide his reaction—it was all the confirmation I needed. His sheepish response, something about how it’d be “weird but interesting,” sealed the deal. I could see it in his eyes. He wasn’t just curious; he wanted it. Maybe not consciously, but deep down, he wanted to know what it’d be like to be me.

That was all I needed to make it happen.

When the time came, I added the remedy to our coffee, making sure Max drank every last drop. Watching his body slump as the effects kicked in was surreal, but when I opened my eyes and saw myself sitting across from me, I knew it had worked. My plan had actually worked.

I wasted no time. I’d already packed a bag with everything I’d need to start fresh—clothes, cash, important documents, a few personal items. I didn’t even wait for Max to wake up. I just grabbed my stuff and walked out the door, not looking back.

---

That was five years ago. Five years since I walked out the door, leaving my old life—and my old body—behind.

Now, this sexy body I’m in, Max’s body—no, my body—is 26. And let me tell you, I’ve made the absolute most of it. It wasn’t always easy; the first few months were an adjustment. I had to figure out how to carry myself as a younger man, and I won’t lie, it took some time to get used to seeing my reflection. But as the years went on, I really leaned into it. I started growing out my hair, experimenting with different looks. These days, I like to dress a little more feminine now and then—just enough to turn a few heads. And honestly? I love spending as much time shirtless as possible. This body deserves to be shown off, and I’ve been having an all-around good time doing just that.

Of course, that means my old body—the one I left Max in—would now be about 41. I never bothered to reach out to him after the swap, and, frankly, I hadn’t heard anything from him either. Part of me assumed he was mad, which would make sense. I mean, I did steal his youth, his twenties—arguably some of the best years of his life. Maybe he couldn’t confront me because of that. Not that I spent much time thinking about him these days. My life was too good, and honestly, I didn’t have any regrets. I had the life I wanted.

At least, that was the case until today.

I was at the gym, doing my usual workout. It’s a gym known for its gay clientele—big, muscular guys who weren’t shy about flaunting what they had. My kind of place. I’d just finished a grueling set at the squat rack, sweat dripping down my chest as I racked the barbell. I grabbed a towel and started wiping myself down when this super muscular, hot guy walked up to me.

“Hey, man,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, “mind if I work in with you?” He had this knowing smirk on his face.

At first, I didn’t think much of it. I was too busy eyeing him up. Thick, powerful arms, a wide chest, and legs that could probably crush a watermelon. He was older, but he had this ageless energy about him. Then, it clicked.

It was Max. In my old body.

My jaw practically hit the floor as I stared at him. “Max?” I said, disbelief dripping from my voice. “Is that you? You look… amazing.”

And he did. My old body hadn’t aged a day. In fact, it looked better than ever. He’d clearly been putting in work at the gym. My old body was practically glowing.

Max—or rather, my old body—grinned and crossed his arms over that broad chest. “It’s Frank,” he corrected, his tone smooth and confident. Then he flexed one of those massive biceps, his smirk growing. “But you’re damn right I look amazing.”

I stared at him, still a little stunned by how… okay he looked. Actually, not just okay—thriving. “I thought you’d be mad,” I said after a moment. “I mean, I kind of stole your youth. I figured you’d hate me for it.”

He let out a deep laugh, throwing his head back. Then, with that same cocky smirk, he raised one of those thick, muscular arms and took an exaggerated whiff of his armpit. “I was mad,” he admitted, “for maybe the first hour. But this…” He sniffed again, clearly enjoying his own musk. “…this helped me get over it.”

Before I could say anything, he casually ran a hand down to his crotch, grabbing his impressive bulge. “And this doesn’t hurt either,” he added with a wink, his tone dripping with smugness.

I couldn’t help but laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over me. “So, uh,” I began, trying to steer the conversation before I got too distracted, “I wasn’t exactly expecting to see you in San Diego. Is this where you’ve been all these years?”

Frank shrugged, his body language as relaxed and confident as ever. “Just moved to town, actually. Needed a change of scenery. Figured this would be a good place to start.” He looked me up and down, clearly taking in how much I’d changed. “And now I know why this gym has such a reputation,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah, well, I’ve been here a while. It’s a good spot.”

“Seems like it,” he said, his tone a little too casual, like he knew exactly how good he looked. “Anyway,” he continued, “we should grab a drink later, catch up. It’s been too long.”

I nodded, still trying to wrap my head around the moment. “Yeah, sure,” I replied, trying to sound just as nonchalant.

As he walked away to start his set, I couldn’t help but watch him. There was something about his casual cockiness, the way he carried himself with this slight earned arrogance, that was undeniably attractive. He wasn’t just comfortable in my old body—he loved it. And honestly? That made him even more appealing.

---

Later that night, we met up at a dive bar just a block away from his apartment. It wasn’t much—a little run-down, sticky floors, the smell of stale beer—but it had character, and it was quiet enough for a real conversation. When I walked in, I spotted him immediately. He was leaning casually against the bar, a beer already in hand, wearing my old Texas Tech T-shirt like it was made for him. It looked snug on his broad frame, the sleeves straining against his biceps, and for a second, I felt a pang of something I couldn’t quite name. Nostalgia? Jealousy? Lust? Maybe all three.

“Nice shirt,” I said, sliding into the stool next to him.

He smirked, giving me a once-over. “Figured it’d be a nice touch. Thought it might bring back memories.”

I laughed, feeling oddly sheepish. “Yeah, well, it looks better on you.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed internally. Was I… flirting? With my own body? I mean, technically, yeah, but how could I be this flustered? This was me, or at least it used to be. Yet here I was, stumbling over my words, feeling like a nervous wreck. Meanwhile, he—Frank, Max, whatever—was cool as a cucumber, his confidence practically radiating off him.

We ordered drinks, and he started asking me about my life. He was surprisingly attentive, hanging on to every word like he genuinely cared. It threw me off a little. “You’ve been busy,” he said after I told him about some of the things I’d been up to. “It’s good to see you doing so well.”

Was it weird that he almost sounded… proud?

Then he started telling me about his life—what he’d been doing in my old body. Turns out he’d made good money over the past few years working as a fitness instructor part-time, balancing that with his job as a mechanic. And apparently, he’d built up an online following, which had blown up enough that he was now financially set.

“It’s funny,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I thought I’d hate it at first, but I kinda love this life. It suits me.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, my eyes trailing over his broad shoulders and confident posture. “It really does.”

As the drinks flowed, I found myself relaxing a little too much. I didn’t even realize I was flirting until it was too late. My hand kept finding excuses to touch his arm or brush against his thigh. At first, it was just playful, but one of those touches lingered a little too long. My hand stayed on his thigh, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his jeans. He didn’t move away, and I didn’t either.

He turned to me with a raised eyebrow, that damn smirk spreading across his face. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I’d think you were flirting with me.”

My face went red, and I quickly looked away, mumbling something unintelligible. But before I could pull my hand back, he grabbed my thigh, his grip firm and deliberate.

“Usually,” he said, leaning in just enough that I could feel the heat of his breath, “I don’t go for twinks. But I think I can make an exception for you.” His hand slid just slightly higher, his smirk turning into something hungrier. “I mean, I know how fantastic that ass is. And I’d love to try it out for myself.”

My breath hitched, and I couldn’t find the words to respond. All I could do was stare at him, my heart pounding as his grip tightened slightly, his confidence swallowing the room whole.

Stay Tuned For Part 2

[angelicchris]

at your worst | chris sturniolo

in which ₊˚ the happiest triplet is the one who’s quietly struggling.

˖⋆࿐໋ for all my lovelies who find themselves having to play a happy role for others, while they’re actually at their lowest (me too ᡣ𐭩)

honourable mention ⊹ ‧₊˚ for all my glass children

word count ₊˚ 883

───────── ♡♡ ─────────

chris found himself laying awake at night, staring at his ceiling, with some random background music playing on his tv. he had initially tried to listen to his favourite artists—skies, travis, mac— to try to find it in himself to be happy, but he just couldn’t. normally music was his go-to for feeling better, or a hug from one of his brothers, but chris felt as if he would be burdening them if they found out what was really, truly happening inside his head.

his entire life, chris was the triplet who was the happiest. he was the one always smiling, always cracking jokes to try and bring others up if they were feeling low. this fact was something even his fans picked up on, noting how chris was the triplet who had changed the least throughout their growing fame, and was usually the one always joking around with his brothers in their videos. unbeknownst to chris, this role he established—both within his family and fans—had taken a toll on him, and lead to a lack of expressing his feelings, unless they were positive.

still staring at the ceiling and the intricate cracks of white paint that ran along it, chris felt a tear roll down the side of his right eye, landing on his pillow. he reached up and wiped his eye, wishing, hoping that he could fix whatever was wrong with him and his mind. he considered talking to one of his brothers about his sadness, but they both have their own lives and their own problems. chris hated to say it, but matt was the one who openly struggled with mental health the most in their family, and chris knew that he would feel guilty taking any attention away from matt and his struggles. he thought, deep down, that if he told matt, maybe he’d understand what he’s feeling, but, does chris even know what he’s feeling? having enough of this, chris sits up, turning off his tv, and leaves the comfort of his room, finding himself walking up the stairs to their kitchen table. chris looks around—he notices an empty can of pepsi he left on the counter from earlier, nick’s headphones lying on the table, a half-completed lego poinsettia set that matt had been working on—and, he’s unsure why, but seeing this causes more tears to well in his eyes. his brothers, who were a constant variable in his life, yet who he felt as if he was letting down. “i can’t do this,” chris said, rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes, hard. “i can’t, i can’t,” he continued to cry. having to act like there was nothing burdening his mind—in front of both his brothers and his fans—was finally catching up to him. chris wasn’t even sure what was causing this sadness within him. he had everything he could have ever wished for—a loving family, loving friends, a roof over his head—so, for the love of God, why was he feeling like this?

chris’ continuous sobs from the kitchen were enough to draw the attention of his older brother, matt. rubbing his eyes, confused, having been awoken from his unconscious state, matt checks the time on his phone. 4:36 a.m. he knew him and his brothers had a fucked up sleep schedule, but this was different. removing himself from the comfort of his blanket, his stuffed pug falling precariously onto the floor, matt makes his way into the hallway. as he nears the kitchen, he hears the sobs becoming louder and louder—the sobs of his younger brother, chris.

“chris?” matt says cautiously. chris looks abruptly over his shoulder at the voice, caught off guard. “oh,” he says, wiping his eyes and cheeks as quickly as he can. “hey matt,” chris sniffles a little, but tries to act as if nothing had just happened. “why are you up?” chris asks his brother. “i was about to ask you the same thing..” says matt, confused. “couldn’t sleep,” replies chris, staring straight ahead at a wall. “were you.. crying?” unsure of how to reply, chris pauses for a moment, then musters up a fake, boneless laugh. “i don’t cry,” states chris, jokingly or not, matt couldn’t tell. “chris, what’s wrong?” “God matt, nothing’s wrong, can’t you just knock it off?” chris, who was always the one asking him if he was okay, the one always making him smile, offering him a hug, was now sitting alone at their table, using his own arms as a shield, a tight embrace around his own fragile state. matt pauses for a moment, unsure of how to respond to his brother’s newfound behaviour, before deciding on the truth. “i heard you crying while i was sleeping.” what matt hadn’t expected, however, was for this revelation to trigger something within chris. “i said i’m fine, why can’t you just learn to mind your own business for once in your goddamn life, matt? geez.” chris abruptly pushes up from his spot at the table, making his way over to the stairs leading to his room, matt quickly following his brother’s strides. “chris, please..” matt pleads, not exactly sure what for. before he could receive a response, he’s greeted with a door slamming in his face, the rusty turn of a lock following suit.

───────── ♡♡ ─────────

my oh my, my first fanfic ᡣ𐭩.

i honestly thought about the plot of this in my sleep, and i woke up and just kinda wrote about it.

i’m not too sure how i like this, i kinda cringed at my own writing, esp when chris & matt were talking w one another. ik i’m gonna cringe at this when i look back in a few years and see how much my writing has (hopefully) progressed, and, honestly, i can’t wait ᡣ𐭩

i’m interested to know if any of you are actually interested in writings like this, where there’s no female character/interest. ik most fanfics on here are kind of centered around romance involving the triplets, so i thought i would try something a little different that explored their relationships w one another (i didn’t forget nick, i promise)

to everyone who made it to the end, thank you so much, it means the world to me ᡣ𐭩. if u couldn’t bring yourself to read the whole thing, thank you for still taking a chance on my writing and i ᡣ𐭩

all my love x

[annalacerda17]

Lan Wangji is a greatly misunderstood character in this fandom. I think it's partly because the fandom tends to misinterpret Wei Wuxian's influence on him, which has to do with how Lan Wangji's attitude towards rules changed after the time skip. In my opinion, some fans interpret this to mean that before the time skip Lan Wangji had prioritized the rules over doing the right thing, and that he changed because of Wei Wuxian. This is untrue.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have always had very similar moral compasses. However, they grew up in very different environments, and have always had vastly different social status. To me, this is why, when faced with the sects' bigotry pre-timeskip, they reacted very differently despite agreeing as to which side was in the right.

Lan Wangji grew up in the Lan Sect, a place where the rules are highly valued and enforced, and under the care of Lan Qiren who, despite his flaws, was a very reliable parental figure to his two nephews as they grew up. Moreover, the Lan sect is the one place where the rules seem to be enforced impartially most of the time (I'm not going to account for the Madam Lan's situation, because the novel never gives us a clear answer as to what exactly happened in the past).

Having grown up in such an environment, with such an identity, it makes perfect sense for a teenager Lan Wangji to believe that most, if not all problems, can be solved through the system. It would make no sense if, upon learning about what had happened to the Wen remnants, Lan Wangji's reaction had been to abandon everything and go live in the burial mounds with Wei Wuxian (and let's not forget that Lan Wangji did not actually learn the truth about the Wen Remnants at the same time that Wei Wuxian did, he had to sneak around to be able to see Wei Wuxian in person and find out the more accurate information this way). On top of everything else, his sect -his family- was actively restraining him.

So, Lan Wangji's reaction was to verbally defend Wei Wuxian and to use his reputation and political weight (which was not that much considering he wasn't a sect leader and his sect had still been rebuilding at that point) to try to sway the public sentiment in the right direction.

And at one point, it seemed doable. When Wei Wuxian was invited to Jin Ling's 100 day celebration, that seemed to be a sign that the sects might be willing to compromise. Even Wei Wuxian thought so, despite not trusting them completely.

Then, it turned out to be a trap

All of the events that happened from this point forward showed Lan Wangji that he couldn't trust the system. Outside of the Lan sect, the rules didn't matter, only power and status did. The system was skewed in favor of those in power, regardless of who was right. And that was a lesson Lan Wangji had to learn the hard way. Moreover, Lan Wangji was forced to face the fact that when the sect's interests were put in the balance, even the Lan Sect didn't stand on the side of good. While they didn't necessarily support corruption openly, they did deliberately avoid investigating anything properly. They chose to believe the information provided by the Jin sect -their sponsor- despite Lan Wangji's attempts to tell them the truth. It also exposed the Lan sect's hypocrisy, because they, too, judged Wei Wuxian based on his cultivation and his social status, which led Lan Wangji to understand that the rules couldn't possibly account for the complexities of real life - this why he refused to "repent" even as he was being whipped bloody by his sect.

So it wasn't Wei Wuxian's influence that taught Lan Wangji to stop relying on the rules, it was the experience of trying so hard to do what was right, having followed all the rules, only to be betrayed by the system he had trusted. That's why after the time skip he no longer relied on the rules. He respected the rules when possible, but he didn't take them as seriously as before.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, grew up very differently. His parents had been rogue cultivators - people who lived freely without being restrained by sect rules. When they died, he became a beggar at a young age, and while this experience didn't break him, it did teach him to be self-reliant. Later, he became a disciple of the Jiang sect, where the Madam was a lunatic who was obsessed with his mother and targeted him everywhere. Wei Wuxian was also placed as a companion and retainer to Jiang Cheng, who was a piece of work even as a child and became progressively worse as the story went on. By the time Wei Wuxian rescued the Wen Remnants, Jiang Cheng had grown to be a cowardly, stupid, jealous asshole. That's to say, the authority figure in the sect he had been a part of was utterly unreliable - had been unreliable under Jiang Fengmian, but became even more unreliable under Jiang Cheng.

Having grown up in such an environment, Wei Wuxian had always known that the rules apply differently to people of different social status, regardless of right or wrong. Even so, Wei Wuxian did express his point verbally at the Jin sect's banquet, only to have it dismissed by that loser Jin Zixun and his corrupt uncle Jin Guangshan, solely based on Wei Wuxian's lower social status. Therefore, Wei Wuxian chose to take action directly, because he already knew there would be no way he could get the right thing done by following the rules. He was right about that.

This doesn't mean Wei Wuxian is morally superior to Lan Wangji. They were both teenagers dealing with a problem that was much bigger than themselves, in a situation where the odds were stacked firmly against them. They both did the best they could in the only way they knew how.

Later on both of them felt that there were things they could have done differently, but that's because they had matured and gained more experience. Their moral compass did not change.

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 3 - and you are?

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

carrying all 3 drinks, you found your way back to the entrance where sarah told you to meet. a rush of nerves coming over you after the realisation that the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life was not only your new best friends brother, but also the lead singer of city lights. and you were about to meet him.

"y/n!! over here" sarah called for you.

"oh hey guys, here are all your drinks" you passed them around. "so what's the plan?"

"ok so, as you have just found out, rafe is actually my brother" sarah started. "he's asked to come say hey as he saw my story and didn't recognise you."

"what?"

"rafe has to know everyone in my life. over protective brother and that. anyway, we'll wait until the boys have finished packing everything up and then we'll meet them out the back entrance."

"ok cool cool."

"he's just texted me now actually, you ready guys?"

"yea lets go!" kie replies.

you followed the group as they weaved their way through the crowds of people leaving the concert, adrenaline levels hitting high. you've never been in this atmosphere, of course you had been to concerts, but going backstage and meeting the band? you were living out your wattpad fantasies.

you finally got to the backstage area, sarah presenting a badge you didn't know she had "they're all with me" she explained, and the security guard let you through.

you walked through the long corridor until you finally reached a door that said 'city lights'. sarah knocked on the door, and your heart rate picked up, feeling like everything was about to change.

and it did.

rafe opened the door, eyes instantly finding yours.

"and you are?" he smirked, leaning against the framing of the door. "i know most people around here, but can't say i've ever seen your face before. i would remember"

heat flusterd over you with this words, "i'm, y/n. just moved here from obx."

"an outerbanks girl huh?"

"that's me" you returned his smile.

"well now introductions are out of the way" sarah laughed, "should we get going?"

"yea let me get the others. jj, top, you coming?"

two other blondes popped their heads out the door, almost as handsome as rafe. almost.

"kie, john b, bring it in!!" the first blonde, came out with wide arms bringing the two into a hug. "nice to meet you?"

"y/n"

"y/n! well sarah rarely lets us meet her new friends so you must be special" he says as he also brings you into a hug.

"and i'm top" the last boy grins as he shakes your hand. "it's nice to meet new faces, especially when they're as pretty as you"

you giggle at his words, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see rafes breath slightly hitch, like the words didn't sit right for a moment. but before you could turn to look at him, his face changed back to neutral and he was leading everyone out the door.

"i have a quiet bar we can go too, security will follow so hopefully papperazi shouldn't be too bad" rafe spoke as you all followed him out the venue.

a few fans lingered out the back, but you quickly cut your way through and made it to the bar.

you found a table and took your seats, everyone went up to buy their drinks, except you and rafe, who lingered behind.

"so what bought you to new york?" rafe asked you, his head tilting and direct eye contact making you nervous.

"just needed a fresh start." your gaze looking away from him, not willing to tell him the truth, a conversation not needed to have just yet.

"this is a big change then a little beach town. you think you can handle it?" he challenges you.

"what you think i can't?"

"i don't think anything yet."

"hm" you respond, just as everyone starts to return with their drinks.

"let me get you a drink. what do you want?" rafe asks.

"i'll take a rum and coke. thanks"

"no problem sweetheart" he gets up, the nickname leaving your cheeks red as sarah comes to sit next to you.

"ignore him y/n. he'll try to get under your skin"

you laugh in response, "it's fine, i don't mind"

"good." she said with certainty, a hint of something else under her words, like he's someone she doesn't want you with.

someone out of bounds.

rafe returns with your drink and sits down the other side of you, as the rest gather round and pull chairs from other tables to sit.

the rest of the night goes well, learning more about sarah and the people she's introduced you too. becoming close with jj and top, who make light conversation with you and make you laugh, unlike rafe who remains slightly reserved, yet staring at you constantly throughout the night, feeling his gaze like heat on your skin.

as the evening comes to an end, you say your farewells outside waiting for an uber, now knowing sarah and john b live together, kie lives with her other friends you're yet to meet, and the band members all together.

"it was so great to meet you y/n!" jj once again pulls you into a drunk hug "you'll fit in well with us" he grins as he lets you go, the reassurance making you smile as you've bonded with these people.

top does the same, giving you a hug goodbye, as rafe watches you from the side, almost waiting for his turn.

you turn to him, unsure if he was going to go into a hug, which he doesn't, much to your dismay. he half smiles at you and says "i'm sure i'll be seeing you again" "would you like that?" your bold statement taking you, and him by surprise.

"can't give all my cards away" he smugs, as he finally pulls you into a brief hug. "bye y/n" he steps into the car waiting for him, taking one last glance at you.

you hug goodbye to the rest, sarah promising to text you once she's home, and kie and john b thanking you for a great night.

your own uber arrives, now left with your own thoughts and reminiscing about the night. the thought of rafe and how he was to you tonight leaving you puzzled. was he flirting with you? is he like this with everyone? you couldn't deny you felt something their, a slight chemistry only time could tell.

shit just got a whole lot more confusing.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: aaaaah here is chapter 3, their first meeting. any love on this would be so greatly appreciated as it's my first ever time writing lol so kinda scary

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19

(to remain on the taglist, you must interact with the chapters!)

[confuzing]

Ok but what if Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu were the same person.

Little YQY is used to little baby SJ being a little strange. He talks about missing 'the internet' and one night when they almost freeze to death he solemnly informs YQY that "this transmigration experience sucks, 0/10 would not recommend."

As they grow SJ stops talking about odd things, but since he never explained about his past life to YQY he doesn't realize SJ is forcing himself to forget those memories of being warm and safe and happy because they hurt too much now when he is none of those.

The System is still there if course but since LBH isn't even born yet it's in low power mode. But that night locked in Qiu Manor after YQY leaves it pops up with a notification he's finished the 'Sorrowful Parting' quest and he loses it.

He alternates between insisting it doesn't exist and demanding to know why it only shows up when something bad happens to him. The System explains this is all necessary character development before he meets the main character.

SJ rages, not because he's not the main character but because he apparently needs to suffer for them, this person he's never met. Eventually the System turns off all notifications except essential ones, and that at least leaves SJ mostly alone in his own head.

And he takes that buried ache of his past memories and that he was apparently born to suffer and uses them to save himself when YQY fails him. Even though he promised. And he's fine- look, he's a Peak Lord! He's fine.

Until LBH turns up at the peaks, the System lights up for the first time in a decade, and SJ looks at this little boy and hates him. SJ can't see him without thinking about all the hurt he suffered, which the System insists was necessary for this boy's story.

So he does all those horrible things to LBH that he railed about as SY a lifetime ago and doesn't regret it. (PIDW is mostly lost to him, buried under the trauma, he doesn't know who LBH is, or who he is)

Until the qi deviation, which wipes all his memories except the ones he has buried. So he feels like he's a different person. He thinks he's transmigrated in late because he can't remember being 5 and teaching YQY carmeldansen.

A week after the deviation YQY hears SJ mutter something about Google and he relaxes, he does recognize this SJ after all.

Meng Mo pulls the memories out of SY's head after all. For all that SY draws the line between himself and SJ as different people he still remembers SJ's memories. But crucially not the ones from when he was little where his past and current lives overlap the most.

Sometime after the series ends SQQ is humming something modern- my heart says 'Never Gonna Give You Up'- and YQY casually mentioned he's always liked that one most of SJ's songs.

SQQ: What songs?

YQY: The ones only you know. You used to sing them all the time when you were little.

SQQ's head is spinning and he finds some privacy and questions the System which confirms he did in fact transmigrate as a baby like SQH did.

The memories come back slowly after that. He remembers telling LQQ he'll kill him after a bad fight, street kid him trying to explain to YQY what a T-Rex is... exactly what was going through his head when he dumped a cup of hot tea on an orphan he'd just met.

And SY has to deal with the fact that yes actually, that was him. That wasn't some other asshole. It's him, he's the asshole. Maybe that was the worst possible version of himself, maybe he got a second chance and changed for the better - but it was still him, and he's still capable of being that man again if he isn't careful.

[lenorenevermore99]

Why 457 is actually valid af and not just a "joke" ship

I wanna start this by saying that I'm in no way, shape or form convinced 457 is canon nor I think there will be anything remotely romantic between the two of them in season 3. But people seem to think it's just a joke inside the fandom, while actually, their dynamic is pretty fucking valid and I want to analyze that in this post.

One of the most discussed things (if not the most) when it comes to this ship is the stares.

Some think this is the stare of love, others think In-ho just enjoys seeing him suffer. Well, let me tell you it is neither.

But before we delve into the way In-ho stares at Gi-hun, we first have to go back to talk about Hwang In-ho as a character.

As we know, Hwang In-ho is the Winner of the 2015 Squid Game. He went into the games so he could have the money to treat his sick, pregnant wife, much like Gi-hun who did the same for his sick mother. Both of them won the game, but both of them were too late to save the person they loved from a sad fate.

This lead to In-ho becoming the Frontman. We don't know exactly what happened in the timeframe between him winning and him becoming the Frontman, but we can safely assume that after loosing his wife, In-ho lost faith in humanity. The games have destroyed him, they turned him into the villain he is today.

And the thing is, when he looks at Gi-hun, he sees his past self in him. This was confirmed by both Lee Byung Hun (In-ho's actor) and the director of the show himself.

Or to be more precise, he sees his past self. He sees who he was before the games changed him. And this is what led to his fascination and obsession with Gi-hun, because here's the thing; the games traumatized Gi-hun, but they didn't break his faith and hope in humanity, like they did with In-ho himself.

And this is the thing that, in my view, both fascinates and deeply angers In-ho. Deep inside, subconsciously, he is thinking, "Why were YOU able to retain your hope in humanity? Why were you able to remain a good person when I couldn't?"

In-ho was genuine when he told Gi-hun he wished he'd try to be happy after winning (or to better say, surviving) the games. I find it especially interesting when he tells him "Just pretend it was all a dream."

In-ho wishes he could pretend it was all a dream, but he couldn't. Think about it: he's a billionaire, but he lives in a shitty, small apartment. He doesn't talk to his mother, he doesn't talk to his brother, he doesn't even go visit his wife at the cemetery. Pardon me for borrowing the phrase from The Hunger Games, but he's not living the life of a victor. whether it's because he feels guilty or something else, I guess we'll find out in the next season, but that's not the point. The point is, that In-ho wants Gi-hun to do what he wasn't able to do after he won. He wants him to be happy because he sees himself in Gi-hun.

This is the most important point in this post.

Now I wanna focus on these moments. During the second game, during mingle, and during the lights-out massacre, we see Gi-hun being absolutely destroyed over the players that were killed. He's undoubtedly blaming himself for it. And here we see In-ho staring at him, not with the look of love, not with joy at his suffering, but with sorrow. He's sad for Gi-hun, because he could have spared himself further suffering if he didn't stubbornly decide to go back into the games.

What In-ho is thinking right here, in my view, is; "See? There is no hope. There is nothing you can do. Stop torturing yourself, just give it up already. How much more pain do you have to go through before you give up? Accept you can do nothing and go on with your life. Try to be happy."

Now you might be asking, okay, but what does that have to do with romantic love?

Well let me tell you that these feelings I just described can easily and quickly turn into love.

Many philosophers over the centuries have come to the same conclusion; we see part of ourselves in the people we fall in love with.

"The Front Man believes that Gi-hun is wrong in his way of thinking, but perhaps, he reflects on himself through Gi-hun. He does want to destroy Gi-hun's belief. I felt that a small part of him, unknowingly, might be hoping for Gi-hun's thoughts to be right. And rooting for him in some way."

These words Lee Byung Hun said about In-ho, makes me think of Jacques Lacan's theory in particular (which is a rather complex topic and I will try to summarize as shortly and as simply as I can).

For Lacan, love, at least in the beginning, is essentially a form of narcissism. When we fall in love, we're also falling in love with ourselves. We see ourselves in the other person, but we also see in the other what we subconsciously think we are lacking in ourselves. Which doesn't mean the other person will fix us because, at least according to Lacan, this lack is something that can never actually be "fixed".

And I think that's exactly was is happening with In-ho. He sees in Gi-hun what he's lacking in himself. They were traumatized the same way, but reacted in two completely different manners. In-ho became cruel and disillusioned with humanity, while Gi-hun still believes in humanity and wants to save everyone.

I know that this way, 457 seems like a one-sided kind of love, but that's honestly my personal interpretation of the ship. I think Gi-hun could have fallen for Young-il, for the person In-ho was before the games, if they had more time. But the Frontman In-ho? The person he became after becoming the Frontman? There's no way.

Not all loves are meant to happen, not all lovers get to be lovers. Some are meant to just leave us wondering what could have been. Which is what makes transformative works so fun and interesting! From the canonverse toxic fics to the wholesome alternative universe flower shop fics, I think their dynamic is valid as fuck.

I rest my case.

[w0nd3rhoy]

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Percy’s parents are divorced and he lives with his bio dad and his husband, he has one sister that lives with his mom and her husband

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

He admires her so much, “she didn’t treat me weirdly after I transitioned!” Buddy she didn’t even know you existed. (If you allow this) his past crush was kille day Quartz for being an admirer but Percy didn’t know. “She’s so mysterious like a girl from an anime I watch”

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

oh. The guy quartz likes? “He’s probably a play boy, he has so many admirers.” He bumped into azul one day, despite azul being polite Percy walked off, being near him ruined his day (he likes azul in a god damn it I like my crush and my crush’s crush)

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Ah, Clownfish! "

Floyd knew about Percy before he transitioned, his old name used to be dottyback but he changed it to clownfish after he transitioned. (Clownfish can change their gender)

Jade: "Who?”

Heard of Percy from Floyd as Floyd see’s Percy as a fun little plaything, doesn’t know him outside of that

Riddle: "He’s one of azul’s admirers, hm?"

Percy hates azul’s guts, riddle got it wrong

Ace: "Percy? I’ve seen him following quartz once before Floyd started harassing him in the middle of basketball practice”

He thinks Percy’s weird, though he’s entertained by it.

Idia: "I’ve never had dialogue with him before, he’s probably a underrated character”

Saw him taking a picture of quartz once (as seen in the P.U.N.K girl animatic)

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Percy is a 2nd year, 17

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz to at least be friends with him (like that’s gonna happen bud)

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

He’d probably take it, he had suspicions after he saw quartz cleaning a knife he presumed was for cooking club, only to find out quartz isn’t in a club, but he’s act like it was him, anything for quartz.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

He actually went blind in both eyes when he saw that, he didn’t see anything “psst, you’re knife is noticeable.”

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Percy is always at class early, for lunch he usually sit’s in the garden

10. How are your OC's grades?

A couple A’s, mainly B’s.

Info on Percy

au made by @quartztwst

(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul 🙏

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

[milkywaydrinker]

I've been rotating this thought in my mind for a while: People in fandom have a very weird fixation on age gaps.

There's a tendency to instantly assume an age gap is always bad or problematic but it's not the case at all, especially in fiction and doubly so for a human/non-human ship.

The most recent example would be Kit and Jentry (from Jentry Chau vs The Underworld).

Let's start from the general topic: When is the age an issue?

Most rational people acknowledge age gaps are pretty common in real life. Between adults, an age gap isn't as much of a problem because we're dealing with people on the same stage of life, a 24yo shouldn't have any issues dating a 30yo just by the virtue of one party being older. They're both years into adulthood there's no moral or legal argument to make there.

A 30yo dating an 18yo raises eyebrows because we recognize the difference between their lives experiences, it's still not immoral or illegal but many would find it suspect due to a potential power imbalance compounding with financial dependence or adult life experience. It still doesn't necessarily mean the relationship is exploitative or abusive just because of the age gap but the probability of it is way higher.

The age gaps between minors can be similarly suspect just as in a case of a minor and a freshly minted adult. Things like that need to be carefully evaluated on a case by case basis.

Now, to the point: fictional characters dating non-human/long lived/immortal characters when is it problematic and when it doesn't matter at all?

The fictional narratives often play around with what age means for an immortal character, how they perceive the passage of time, how they grow and change with time, if at all?

In case of Kit, the narrative positions him in a similar spot to Michael who's a regular highschooler. He behaves in ways consistent with a teenager too, socially clumsy, not very developed emotionally and impulsive just like Jentry. The only mark of his age we can see is the compounded trauma he carries with him.

He has no social advantage over other characters, no financial advantage, no maturity advantage as his lived experience in society is so different and fragmented he cannot reliably pull from it to have an upper hand in any way.

That's why it personally drives me a bit crazy when people pull the age gap card as if it matters when it's the least relevant part of why he should never be together with Jentry. With so many other, serious red flags about him, throwing an absurd "pedophile" label diminishes the angles of possible character interpretation. It makes people miss out on all of the things that are actually wrong with him that should be talked about more and are leagues more interesting.

[turndon100-blog]

Regardless of the past, do not ask the future

link click live action was so much fun!

I had added this randomly into my watchlist few months back and it turned out absolute gold.

The funniest scene was probably when xiaoshi kept calling for luguang after they mistakenly entered the pre-match picture 😭 look where greed got you my boy! I was so scared he'd change the main node lmao but phew he saved the day! This boy literally went "I DEFENDED MY IDOL". masterpiece 🤣

Or when Qiao ling found their secret 😭 and xiaoshi made 5 versions of the story lol but thanks to her, these silly boys continued to work together.

Actually I loved how xiaoshi started studying about the cases beforehand so that he'd make no mistakes. Always giving 200% , a true hero and and I love him so much because what do you mean he learnt to ride the bike just for lu Guang 🥺

umm.... I'm sad they didn't mention that Lu Guang was an Artist, until the later end of the show?? I wish we had gotten more of this!

Surprising mentions of The Rabindranath Tagore? Yes please, more references to remarkable artists! The lines quoted from Stray Birds:

"what you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow"

"Let life be beautiful like summer flowers and death like autumn leaves."

"This life is the crossing of a sea, where we meet in the same narrow ship. In death we reach the shore and go to our different worlds."

I hate that they made me cry for 2 episodes straight but it's okay I survived!

Let's talk about that psychologist, brother went 0 to 100 real quick and expected us to believe his dead gf sap story 🙄 And oh that bookmarker climax!!! I thought I was ready for it but damn that bit was so good, my mouth hung open, mind blown! Anyways, you can't be redeemed be whatever your reason.

4th wall being broken? Love to see it 🤣

on a side note, all the actors were so good because everyone being controlled by xiaoshi was believable only because of that!👏🏼

The only thing that was bad in this series for me were those broken english subtitles 😒

Shall we talk about this look!!!!!! 😍

Maybe I should watch the original source too since it seems like there are 3 seasons (?) and really good arcs hmmm.

[atlabeth]

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. 

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad. 

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him. 

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion. 

Why? 

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him. 

But he did. 

For you. 

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn. 

So much for not being obvious. 

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least. 

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him. 

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you. 

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says. 

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.” 

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?” 

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.” 

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.” 

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said. 

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!” 

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?” 

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!” 

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him. 

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.” 

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns. 

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown. 

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

-

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it. 

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own. 

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with. 

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly. 

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.” 

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.” 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—” 

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this. 

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.” 

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”) 

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean. 

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you. 

The thought crossed your mind more often than not. 

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not. 

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day. 

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under. 

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms. 

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment. 

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out. 

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond. 

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly. 

“Can I come in?” 

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?” 

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says. 

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.” 

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper. 

“And?” 

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.” 

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?” 

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.” 

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance. 

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.” 

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.” 

“Maybe I just like silence.” 

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.” 

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel. 

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—” 

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad. 

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.” 

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you. 

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU. 

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable. 

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical. 

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—” 

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself. 

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?” 

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.” 

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.” 

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill. 

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.” 

He shrugs. “Why not start now?” 

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?” 

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back. 

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?” 

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says. 

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap. 

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?” 

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.” 

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?” 

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.” 

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.” 

You scoff. “I do not.” 

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.” 

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.” 

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks. 

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.” 

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.” 

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks. 

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.” 

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—” 

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut. 

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?” 

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says. 

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.” 

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.” 

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.” 

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.” 

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have. 

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid. 

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.” 

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?” 

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.” 

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.” 

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.” 

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.  

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.” 

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.” 

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.” 

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.” 

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.” 

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.” 

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.” 

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.” 

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?” 

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.” 

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.” 

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.” 

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.” 

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?” 

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask. 

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.” 

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.” 

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.” 

You laugh. “Part of our truce.” 

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.” 

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while. 

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.” 

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.” 

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.” 

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.” 

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse. 

“Does our truce include this?” 

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave. 

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.” 

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat. 

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze. 

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed. 

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable. 

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax. 

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it. 

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight. 

[sideprince]

I can't help but be skeptical. Bullies and abusers often paint themselves as victims to justify their actions to themselves - this can also lead to gaslighting and victim blaming. Sometimes they're really reaching, and sometimes they're enacting the same behaviors on others that someone enacted on them - violence begets violence etc. But that doesn't make it OK. Even if people aren't being bullies in real life, there's a dangerous mentality in enacting bullying behavior online or through fandom because it can lead to enacting it in daily life too.

The thing is, when someone posts something like "all _____ fans need psych evals" or deliberately tags a post to bait a specific fandom, that's deliberate provocation. It's the virtual form of stepping to someone and getting in their face, baiting them to ask the bully to back off so they can use it as an excuse to attack. If the person being baited raises their voice, the bully can use it to say they started the argument when they were doing nothing and shout all the abuse they want. If they put their hand on the bully to hold them back because they're scared, the bully can say they started it and throw a punch. But the act of deliberate provocation is itself a red flag at best, and outright bullying at worst.

Bullying is about control (much like abuse, which is no surprise since they're on the same spectrum). And if you look through posts in the Snapedom, then you'll see that five years ago there was a lot more meta and character exploration, whereas now the dominant theme seems to be arguing back against haters. The narrative has literally been changed - the bullies are controlling it and dominating the conversation even when they aren't actually present. How many posts from the past couple of years are just people arguing against something a hater/Marauders stan said, whether it's directly or in a new post that avoids the conflict of a direct interaction? How much of the discourse around this character is now being shaped by reactions to antis?

The conversation, and perception of the character, is being controlled by bullies who aren't interested in respecting others in the wider fandom, and instead mimic the behavior of their faves, especially when those faves are Marauders, and deliberately target not just Snape as a character but the part of the fandom who finds him compelling and engages with him. That's bullying. It doesn't matter what these people's personal experiences are, if their actions are deliberately targeting certain people and doing so with aggression, even if it's only verbal, that's bullying. And it's likely that this behavior is not different than how these people engage with others in their offline lives, only more exaggerated.

You can think of yourself as an outcast or a misfit and still be a bully. You can be a victim of bullying and still enact that behavior on others. "I was also bullied" isn't a get out of jail free card, you have to check your own behavior. As for what an outcast or a misfit even is, it's subjective, but someone claiming that identity doesn't excuse ba behavior, and it doesn't mean that much especially in the Marauders fandom. Look at James and Sirius - Rowling (boo, hiss) saw them as misfits, talks about them as misfits, but are they? They considered themselves the "height of cool" according to Lupin. They were recruited by Dumbledore himself to fight against Voldemort. Yet they're supposed to be misfits because Sirius rode a motorbike and James... was Head Boy and got married and started a family right after school ended, I guess? Rowling wrote that short story for charity where James and Sirius mess with a pair of cops, but it's not really conveying any kind of anti-policing message, it's just a 2 page short story about a pair of wizards who use a youthful rejection of authority as an excuse to muggle-bait.

Look, some of this character analysis will inevitably be subjective no matter what. I won't claim that my analysis of James and Sirius is any kind of objective fact. But that's also kind of the point - fandom is based around media, and media is inevitably subjective. Anyone trying to assert their subjective perspective as truth is misguided, but doing that in a way that asserts a perspective deliberately onto others and tries to force them to agree, especially using aggression and online harassment and abuse is absolutely bullying. Just because a person says they were bullied or are a misfit or outcast etc. doesn't mean that's their whole story. Their own actions and conduct speak for themselves.

I just post this in spanish because i was on the train and lazy to translate but i'm gonna say the same in english just for my international non-spanish-speakers fellas

Honestly, I’d really like to hear a coherent argument that justifies the constant bashing Snape gets in the fandom because, to this day, I haven’t read anything that makes me think he deserves the sheer amount of crap thrown at him. Like, what’s the worst thing he did in his life? Insult someone? Join a group of idiots and then leave? Not be able to stand a bunch of annoying kids who were always getting into trouble? I don’t know, it sounds a lot like the trajectory of your average adult to me.

[empressgeekt]

Transformers - TFO/Earthspark Time Travel fic summery - An Aged Reflection au (part 1...maybe)

Okay, so the recent movie (GO WATCH IT!) Transformers One, had reignited my hyper fixation for this franchise and as such I come barring a plot summery for a fic prompt. If anyone wants to use this plot in a fic, please just link me so i can read it!

Once more I'm assuming people have seen the movie and at least the first season of the EarthSpark cartoon.

On to the plot!

We start in the past. After getting thrown from the transport train, Orion, Dee, Elita and Bee, are stuck on cybertron's surface, and while a very beautiful place, it is also filled with unknown things, not all of them safe...though it doesn't stop Orion from being curious. What little vegetation the rust wastes have, is fascinating to him and it's only Dee holding him back from him faceplanting into his first patch of grass to "See what it feels like". There are abandoned buildings and some part of Orion wonders what they mean, likely there were some bots who lived on the surface long ago before the quintessions, and he wants to know what their lives were like. To live in a world underneath the sun, with stars to sing them to sleep.

Dee is the only one who actually entertains Orion's questions. Elita is too focused on her map, and Bee is rambling too much to pay attention to anyone else talking. And Dee has to admit, it does make him wonder too. Sure the surface is clearly dangerous, especially to some bots who don't have any survival instincts, but seeing all that was left behind before they were forced underground, there is a sense of loss. What would've been life if the Quintessions never invaded? It likely wouldn't have effect him being a no-cog, but would there be cities up here? The Primes would still be around, maybe they would've expanded globally. Some part of him imagines living a city built by Megatronus. It would've been grand, no question. Looking out on the horizon of his home planet, he hopes to come back here once it's all over. Maybe with the Matrix returned, Sentinel would start construction on a city on the surface. Maybe Dee could visit. He would like to see the sun rise again in his life.

However, Dee would later regret Orion influencing him with curiosity As half way through the journey, the ever shifting surface of Cybertron opens a fissure a head of them, and they can't cross until the landscape changes again. Deciding to camp out and try again in the morning. During the night a weird light comes from the fissure and long story short they all get sucked in...and blackout...

Orion wakes up in a pool of water, though he doesn't recognize the liquid. He's in an underground cave but the walls aren't made of the metallic stone he's used too, they are too soft and crumbly. The others are knocked out around him, but quickly come too. Thankfully the cave isn't too deep and they make there way back to a surface...but it's not the surface of Cybertron. The ground is too soft, the sky is blue, and the world is covered in "weird nature". First theory, the fissure transferred them to a new biome on Cybertron's surface, however that is quickly disproven when their map glitches out saying their location is not found. Much everyone's but Bee's frustration. Orion tries to keep the spirits up, saying they'll find help. If this is another planet they could be the first to make contact with aliens, to which Elita responds, "Oh great aliens, you mean like when the quintessions found us?"

His efforts are unappreciated...Especially when they were sudden surrounded by Arachnamechs.

All this is going down late season one of Earthspark, so Mandroid has already joined up with Croft, and once four unknown energon signatures showed up on their surveillance systems, they would be going after our no-cog crew. Especially since they don't read as a Con or a Bot.

Our youngling group have no weapons to defend themselves with, Miners weren't allowed to have any and they didn't have any built in, so they try to run. Dee making sure that the others have shielding from the laser fire, however the GHOST troops mistake him for a decepticon due to his Megatronus decal. So, they end up focusing most of their assault on him, eventually nailing with a T-cog disrupter. However, due to his lack of cog, the only thing the device can do is paralyze him. Which freaks Dee the frag out, like he already can't transform, moving is really the only control of his body that he has. These aliens are tiny, but they already have an effective way of taking them down. He sends one last comm to the others, to run, and find the matrix, the planet needs it more then him...even if he's scared out of his mind.

It takes a lot for Elita and Bee to pull Orion away from the sense but they can't help Dee if they captured too. They need to regroup, get more information.

Let's switch gears. Megatron had been sticking around the Malto home for the past day or two. Robby is supposedly cured from what ever was making him ill, but the big mech wants to stay close by just to be sure. He hadn't been able to be around while his Nephew was ill due to Croft sending him out on a useless assignment, but the moment it was over he demanded the time off he was in fact entitled too (all Ghost employees got two weeks of vacation a year). The only reason that the agents who did his release papers didn't die of fright was that he was more concerned for the children, and he was more pissed off at someone else. Quintus Prime. Fancy title or not, dead or not, Primus above you don't mess with his niblings. And as far as Megatron understood it, it was Quintus' cyber-sleeve that was making his nephew ill. Now he was grateful that the aliment was treated quickly, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Robby was a child, and didn't deserve what happened.

Though, maybe his frustrations with the whole situation came from his own personal experiences with Primes. Sentinel's betrayal against his people is something Megatron had never been able to forget, and the cyber-sleeve is sort of the same non-consensual body alternation that Sentinel pulled so long ago with the mining class's T-cogs. Don't get him wrong, Megatron cared about his niblings, all seven of them, but the other's lives shouldn't cost one of their siblings'. It's a good thing the little ones have him distracted with a game of dodge ball, otherwise he'd be researching how to hunt ghosts, despite him not believing in them.

Twitch gets him out and he's forced to sit on the sidelines with Dorothy. The human gripes about her signature scanner acting up again, and Megatron takes interest. Apparently for the last couple hour a few un-identifiable signals, popped up and three of them hadn't gone away. Seeing as the children were still far from done with their game, He decides to give the location a fly by before the next round started up. He doesn't notice Twitch sneaking off to follow him.

Meanwhile, with D-16, he's kept paralyzed during the transport and is eventually taken down to the brig. Which doesn't not make him feel better. Every decepticon inside of there is staring at him, and it makes him feel much smaller then he really is. The bots in the cells had cogs, weapons. They were taken down by what ever these aliens were, no wonder he didn't stand a chance. What were these little things, hopefully they couldn't get off world, if they invaded cybertron...Dee is uncermoniously thrown into a cell, where he curls up in the corner, trying vary hard not to be noticed.

Croft does however. The bitter human woman, when informed of the weird reaction that Dee had to the T-cog disrupter, is paranoid that the cons are finding a way to hack into their defense systems/weaponry. So, she clues Mandroid in on the new...specimen. She wants to know what makes this little con tick.

Soundwave, keeps his eye on the little new comer, for two reasons. One, no one had seen any cogless bots since before the fall of sentinel prime, and two, merely the age of this con. He's young far too young to be in a place like this. No way this little one committed any war crimes yet. And judging by the pity filled glances shared between him and his fellow decepticon's he's not the only one to notice. Heck, this kid wasn't even using a translation program, still speaking Iaconian and looking very confused whenever the humans spoke in English. Perhaps the little one was a recently activated protoform that was saved when they left Cybertron? Soundwave doesn't know and he doesn't get a chance to ask. The little con is paralyzed again and is taken to the room, where bots are broken.

The remaining miners are still wandering around aimlessly. Bee is now rendered silent after Dee was kidnapped. Elita is still trying to get the map to work, while Orion is just trying not to have a break down. He wanted to help his planet, not get his best friend abducted by aliens. They had stumbled onto what looked by a settlement, but even Orion's curiosity about these creatures was overridden by fear of getting captured. Clearly they weren't friendly. So needless to say when the Arachnamechs, track them down again. They run, and Orion tries to draw the attention of the drones away from Bee and Elita, and accidentally jumps off of a cliff. In the middle of his screaming as he watches the ground ever quickly rushing to meet him. and un-known voice calls out "grab on!" A rusty red colored drone flies over head and he latches on with all his might.

Twitch might have gotten lost, when she chased after he uncle, but in her defense his alt-mode was much fasters then hers, besides she wasn't really lost, mom had taught her all about navigating the woods. However, the weird bot that just leaped off of the water fall cliff, clearly didn't have the same training. Twitch immediately turns back and catches him, shooting the Arachnamechs with her emp, and then landing on the far river bank. It's only after she transforms that she realizes this guy is just a little bit taller than her and that's kind of surprising, after all, she's tiny compared to other transformers. Though his size is probably the only reason she could carry him.

She's not the only one surprised by the size similarities, Orion is as well. No bot with a cog was ever this small, or at least he hadn't seen one. Twitch as she introduces herself, is wonderful in his understanding, most cogged bots would've let him fall and Orion knows this, however she saved him and helped calm his panic ranting when he realized that only some of the Arachnamechs followed him when he broke off from the group. Twitch listens and is horrified to learn that Dee was kidnapped and offers to help, saying they need to find her "uncle" (whatever that word meant), and transforming to take off. Orion is baffled by her confusion over the fact that he's cogless. When he gestures to the empty slot in his chestplating, he wasn't expecting the heartbroken look on her faceplate, but thankfully Twitch doesn't dwell on it, and instead leads Orion through the forest on foot.

While running in the direction of where he, Eltia and Bee split off from each other, Orion just can't help but ask a number of questions on his mind. Like Where they were? How did a cybertronian get here? What were those little drone things

"Oh wow, lot's of questions. Okay first off, we're on earth, and I didn't get here I was born here. I guess you like call me a sub-species of cybertronian, created by Quintus prime."

"Quintus Prime? But he's been dead for cycles."

"Yeah I know, he once sent off little emberstones, to planets far out of reach to make new life on them, me and my family are the result of one of those stones."

"Oh, so, you're earthians???"

"*giggle* We call ourselves Terrons, thank very much."

Orion is fascinated to learn that Quintus had tried to make colony worlds before his demise, maybe it had been a last ditch effort to escape the quintessions, or some way to make new recruits for the high guard in secret. Either way it didn't matter, clearly Twitch or her "family" (what did that word mean?) hadn't been in contact with cybertron for a long time, likely meaning what ever Quintus was planning failed to happen. Still, this meant Orion could actually get help with a home team advantage, and Twitch did say she's help get Dee get back. Twitch had already proven she understood the weird planet around them when she pointed out that she was tracking Elita and Bee by following the footprints in the soft ground and broken nature surrounding them, two factors that Orion had completely missed. He'd have to meet this "Mom" to see if she'd teach him how to read an organic world like that.

Meanwhile with Megatron, tracking the signals had been easier then he thought, whoever these saps were they were not good at covering their tracks. When the signals split up he decided to go after the bigger group. One bot was easier to pin down then two. Besides one of them was screaming very loudly, and it was for a good reason as Megatron would soon find out. Two very small figures, one pink one yellow, were dashing away from a sizable snare of Arachnamechs. Later he could let himself ponder as to how Mandroid survived, and why he was still going after transformers, but first he needed to keep these little ones out of the madman's hands. He calls out for the bots to take cover as he swoops in to make quick word of the drones.

Elita wasn't expecting for a giant warframe to come flying out of nowhere, but she wasn't about to disobey someone of higher stature when they were helping them. She didn't recognize the grey mech, though Bee's quiet panic rambling through out the chase gave a couple of theories, a surviving member of the high guard, maybe one of the mechs sentinel trained, or maybe a rogue gladiator who decided to say frag it and go find real monsters to fight for the pit of it. By watching him fight it was clear that he was at least trained in combat. Then Bee mutters something that sends chills down Elita's nerve struts, "He's wearing the same sigil as the guys who took Dee!" Elita, in probably the most stupid thing she could do (she blames pax's influence), punches the unknown mech when he gets close.

Megatron was not upset at the pink bot for hitting him as soon as he turned, some bots just had lasting battle reflexes and would lash out against a stranger...or more likely a perceived enemy...it was actually a really good hit too. They wont come of the large rock they too cover behind, and the yellow one won't stop screaming, but eventually Megatron gets a good look at who he's dealing with and is suddenly struct with flashback galore. The first thing he notices is their cogless status and parts of him burn with rightous anger and need to protect them. Then he notices their faceplates, faceplates from a time before, a Bumblebee who was still slightly crazy from long term isloation, and an Elita who was young and brash before Optimus softened her drive for success with his love and dorkyness. Denial sets in rather then acceptance, no way was this happening now, then Megatron hears the voice of his young niece and with her is someone who makes it very clear THIS IS NOT A DREAM!!!

Orion was initally very concerned when he heard the sound of blasters in the woods, but Twitch recongized the sound, as her "uncle"s gun, so he tried not to panic. They end up catching the tail end of the scrummage, and wow, this Terron, as he was lead to believe, was huge! Big, silver, covered in weapons, and with red optics that burned with the fire of a great warrior. It was both awe inspiring and terrifiing to watch, sure Orion had seen violance in the mines, Darkwing was not a peaceful person, but it was nothing like this. Twitch wasn't shocked, clearly used to this, if Terrons had to deal with whatever those little creatures that took Dee were, maybe Terrons had to fight to stay alive. Twitch only added more to Orion's wondering when a lone Arachnamech leaped out of the trees, after the fight was seemingly over, and shot it point blank, ("Uncle Megatron! Look out!" "Well, done Little Bird").

Megatron never thought he would see Orion Pax again. Yes, he saw Optimus on the daily, has for centuries but Optimus wasn't Pax. When Orion was given the matrix, when he shot Orion, some part of Megatron was convinced his friend was dead, gone with the allspark. That he had killed his brother...his grief and guilt coming out as unchecked rage...when Optimus ascended, Megatron rejected him, this wasn't his brother, this was a monster, the Primes were using his brother's corpse to hold power over all bots like him, puppetting him around with that matrix they held so dearly. When he had swore to kill Optimus all those stellar cycles ago, it wasn't for revenge, it was to put his brother to rest peacefully. It had taken a long time, bad blood, and many mistakes for Megatron to see the Pax in Prime again. Yet, here standing in front of him is a perfect re-creation of Orion Pax. However, Twitch pulls him out of his trance by rambling, about everything that happened to her and orion, and hearing that his niece met the young version of his brother after he fell from a cliff, only convinces him that this is a case of time travel.

Orion tries to ignore the look the bigger terron gave him in favor of talking to Elita and Bee, he starts rambling about how this planet also had transformers and everything else Twitch told him, however his excitement is dampered when Elita pointed out Bee observation about the big terron's sigil. He doesn't' want to believe it, looking at the mech, and how he is so gentle with Twitch getting down to her level and paying close attention to her flurry of words, but at the same time, he was still such a fearsome warrior,. Orion really wants to the trust Twitch, after all she had no reason to lie to him, and she did save him from the fall. So, Despite Bee and Elita 's hesitanece, when the big silver mech turns to them.

The mech introduces himself as Megatron (big fan of Megatrounus, obviously, Dee would like him) and seems to be questioning Orion about everything that he had told Twitch, the younger cybertronian was a bout to ask why, when this jem of a line left Megatron's mouth, "Of course, you are from right before everything went to the slag, Dang it, Pax I just had to forget your horrible timing."

Orion never told this mech his name, nor did twitch, which prompted the young terron to ask if her uncle knew Orion.

"I'd recognize the mech i woke up to every morning for the first cycles of my life."

"Dee...?"

"It's good to see you Pax."

Megatron is almost surprised that he can still read every single emotion, that rapidly washes over Orion. Denial, disbelief, and everything else. Thankfully though it only took Megatron mentioning the incident where Orion tired to transform with out a cog, for the group to believe him. Though he could've done without little bee sobbing and clinging to his leg, saying "What did those monsters do to you!" Which led to an explanation about how he was not their kidnapped friend, but rather who D-16 would become in the future. There's a lot of very fast questions from all the younger bots and eventually Megs has to tell them to go one at a time, And that he'll answer their question as they walk, because he needs to get them all out of the open and back to the Malto farm to keep them safe.

And boy do they ask questions..."How long has it been for you?" "Couple million cycles." "Why are you wearing that sigil." "to stay our of trouble." "You changed your name?" "D-16 doesn't really count as a name on earth." "What's an uncle?" "Earth functions differently socially then on Cybertron, the youth are given to older members of society to be cared for and taught, rather then being put to work right after the well. I am not one of Twitch's main caregivers, her "mom" and "Dad", however i am close to one of them, making me a secondary role model for her, an "uncle"." "How'd you end up on earth?" "A very long story." "How'd you get a cog?" "A very VERY long story."

Twitch is a little baffled through out the ride home like, it's weird enough to meet the younger version of the older bots in her life, but they are all so different then their older selves. Orion is so much more energetic and reckless then Mr. Optimus (Uncle Megatron had to talk him down from storming the Ghost headquarters at least twice in the same conversation), B-127 is constantly chattering and Twitch feels so bad he doesn't have an actual name either (she tells him he changes it, and he asks if it's "badassatron", which makes bother her and Megatron laugh), and young Miss Elita is such a stickler for rules!

Bumblebee is the one who first sees them at the the farm, seeing Megatron first ....

Megs: Bumblebee! Do you recall how we met?! before all the slag his the fan?!

Bumblebee: Do you mean back in sub-levels? Yeah why?

Megs: Do you ever remember taking an unplanned visit to the future after we reached the surface?!

Bumblebee: What?!

-----

I'll do a part two if people want to see it

[cuteandhughesy]

I’m Talking Nonsense | Mikko Rantanen

summary: everyone in the avalanche social media room knows that getting mikko rantanen to participate in content was a lost cause—that is until you showed up.

4.3k

warnings: flirting | lil bit of pining | mature themes | lil hot and heavy kissing | allusions to sex but no actual smut | read at your own discretion

a/n: okay…so obviously I started writing this before the trade—because nobody in their right mind was expecting mikko to get traded. but I digress, anyways! I originally wanted to post this on valentine’s day but in this moment of sadness, I knew all the mikko girls (myself included) needed this pick me up ❤️ to all you liking my old mikko fic—I see yall and we got this.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

mikko rantanen didn't hate social media — actually, no he did hate it. the finnish native always knew it to be invasive and impersonal, and he'd rather not have to look at fake happy, posed pictures and videos that make his life feel less than. and that's coming for a guy living as a professional athlete.

so when tiktok started gaining more traction and other nhl teams were making accounts for their respective teams—mikko was dreading it. he thought there was a level of privacy that should be respected, and having a camera shoved in your face is totally breaching boundaries. the thought of the avalanche making an account was just not something he wanted.

after a shitty practice—hell even a good practice—the last thing he wanted was to be asked if he thought he could land a plane, or if he believes in aliens...mikko just wanted to go home.

and mikko understands that the social admin was simply doing their jobs, but he couldn't help but fill with irritation anytime they'd approach him with the phone and mini-microphone and/or question cup. it was the quickest way to piss him off.

it didn't help that the avalanche fans were always in the comments asking about his noticeable absence. they wanted to see more of their assistant captain outside of gruelling post-game interviews and game highlights—they wanted the real and fun side of mikko they very rarely had the chance of seeing.

but that didn't change mikko's opinion of social media—he'd avoid the admin team at any costs, especially when he saw that stupid tiktok phone and various props he knew he'd hate to use.

that is, until you showed up.

the first time mikko saw you—standing behind the usual admin suspects with a nervous gaze and fiddling hands—he didn't think much of it. sure, you were pretty, but mikko thinks a lot of girls are pretty.

but then as the months past and your surprisingly warm and bubbly personality began peeking through your hard exterior shell, mikko begin feeling intrigued. you are always smiling, even if someone is giving you a hard time—when he is giving you a hard time—and you're constantly trying to bond with the players. you remember who these athletes are at their core—human, which a lot of people in your job description seem to forget.

the team quickly grew fond of you, and when they saw it was you in the hallway with a cup of questions, or in their locker room with that stupid tiny microphone—the energy would shift. that's just how you are though—vibrant and welcoming, and the guys feed off that energy and turn into a fun group of giddy boys.

even nathan mackinnon, who was almost as turned off by social media as mikko, enjoyed your company, doing silly things for tiktok's he'd never even dreamed of.

it had mikko's own exterior beginning to crack. before he'd be more apprehensive to the idea of participating in social media trends he had no clue about, but you and your grin had him changing.

—

lina, your co-worker looks at you over the top of her laptop, analyzing your soft face as you work on your own computer—editing a tiktok that needed to go up today. you're left with very minimal time, as the avalanche practice finishes in 5 minutes. which means in 15 you both have to head down for some more content.

it's the third time in the past minute lina as looked at you—you can feel her eyes burning through the middle of your forehead. slowly, your eyes trial up and meet hers, a questioning pull to your furrowed eyebrows. "you okay?"

she huffs—not in annoyance or impatience, but rather curiosity. lina flicks her red hair over her shoulder, and then crosses her arms—her gaze never leaving yours. "i'm trying to figure out how you do it."

you're even more confused now. "do what?"

lina snorts like it's obvious. "you've been here five months, y/n. it's been five months of watching you work with the guys and more specifically, getting mikko to work with you."

your lips contort into a confused pout—any more confusion and your head will begin to pound. you're not sure what lina is trying to imply, because as far as you know all the guys on the avs are extremely good with you and have never given you a hard time—that's just how they are...right?

"mikko is great." you hum dismissively, your fingers resuming their place on your keyboard as you continue the code in your side bar to enable the audio change in the clip—attempting to remove ross' loud voice from the background so you can better hear cale's answer.

"that's the thing," lina starts, eyes full of amusement as she leans over the table. "he's really not."

you pause. "what?"

"before you showed up, mikko was always turning a blind eye to me and nick. if we even attempted to talk to him the way you do—well, it never ended how we wanted it to." her face contorts as if she's reliving it.

one of your brows raise in question. "did he like...sentence you to a guillotine or something?"

lina disapproves of your humorous tone, sending you daggers across the meeting room table. she shuts her laptop, resting her elbow atop the logo as she puts her chin in her palm. "ha ha."

satisfied with her pointed response, you get back to work. but, lina isn't done. "he hates this kind of stuff."

"no he doesn't," you retort quickly. "mikko seems happy when I have questions for him. in fact, yesterday he came over to me and asked for one—said something about how they 'make his day bright'" you mimic mikko's deep accent to the best of your abilities, but you sound more like a drowning troll rather than the 6"4 winger.

lina's eyes widen comically—she can't believe what's she's hearing. "anytime I even point the phone in his direction he scowls and walks away. so what are you doing to get him to cooperate?" she eyes you quizzically for a moment before a devious lightbulb goes off in her head, expression morphing into a playful, teasing one. "are you fucking him?"

you squeak, and your cheeks heat up to an undeniable level of embarrassment. "no!" and it's true—of course you're not sleeping with mikko.

she raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn't let up. "I wouldn't blame you if you were, y/n. he's hot—like stupid hot."

"okay," you huff, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "maybe you should sleep with him then."

lina snorts. "trust me—if I could get near him I would."

"you know," you start, "I really don't think what you're saying is true. maybe mikko didn't like it in the past, but I think he's changed his option on the social media stuff."

she raises her brow—almost challengingly. "think so?"

"yup." you hum.

"let's test it, then." lina chimes. "today i'll go up to mikko first, and ill do exactly what you would do when approaching him. and when he sends me away—which he will—then you'll go up to him, and we'll see what happens."

it's tempting—mostly because you're certain there won't be a difference in the way mikko acts towards you then he does lina. sure, mikko isn't always the most sunshine and rainbows when it comes to his personality, but he's always been compliant with you.

so although he's broody and definitely not in love with the idea of having a camera in his face—you're sure he's not going to turn lina away.

"you're on."

it's not 5 minutes later you're both packing up your respective things, preparing to make your way down to the locker room where the guys are surly anticipating your and lina's arrival.

the room is bustling with people—half dressed hockey players and pressing reporters fill the locker room, which creates a slightly hectic environment—but you're used to it by now. so neither of you seem suspicious, you ask a few of the other avs players your selected questions for the day. questions you and lina had argued about for the entire morning—she thought most of them were stupid, you thought they were was hilarious.

plus, the reporters are still swarmed around mikko's stall—the finnish native standing in the middle with a deadpanned look on his face, barley listening to them as they ask the same repetitive questions as usual.

you and lina get some good content from ross colton and josh manson, both players giving you ridiculous and enthusiastic responses to the absurd questions you'd earlier shoved in the alumni silver cup.

lina's mischievous look is back as the sea of middle aged reporters move onto their next victim—cale makar—leaving mikko by his lonesome. "i'll be back." before you can react, she plucks the phone out of your hands, effortlessly making her way through the room until she's in front of mikko.

you strain your ears, but it's no use as the chatter in the locker room is too overpowering, and you're unable to hear lina or mikko. miles wood gives you an odd look—eyeing the way you stand ridged beside his stall, gnawing your thumb as you watch lina talk to the blonde winger—but you don’t notice.

it's only a moment before lina turns around, her grin even wider than it was before as she makes her way back towards you. "your turn." she chimes, thrusting the phone back in your palms.

"what happened?" you question.

lina raises one her brows, pushing you in the direction of mikko's stall. "he didn't want to answer anymore questions."

"okay," you draw. "so maybe I shouldn't go over there."

lina continues guiding you in his general direction. "no it's actually exactly why you should go over there."

you don't get to argue any further as you're suddenly right in front of mikko—almost too close, and if you take another step towards him you're thighs will bump his knees.

speaking of thighs—mikko's are on full display. the huge, muscle carved limbs spread wide as he manspreads in his stall. the expanse of smooth, hard skin making you feel flustered and suddenly intrigued. your eyes flicker upwards, finding the icy blue ones of mikko looking back at you.

you swallow, a heat rising to your cheeks. "hi, mikko."

"hi, y/n." he says your name playfully, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. "you okay?"

you nod too quickly and immediately curse yourself for acting so uncool. you've never been this nervous around any of the avs, especially not mikko, but lina's comments about his looks earlier are lingering in your mind—leaving you flustered.

because obviously you are aware mikko is hot, but now you can't help but be really aware of the fact. damn lina.

"yeah," you clear your throat, clutching the cellphone tightly in your hand. "I was actually just wondering if you'd answer a question for tiktok? for me? promise it'll be quick."

his eyes flicker over your warm, hopeful face, and after a beat he sighs gently, a quick nod following. "yeah I can do that for you."

you can't help the way your eyes widen at his agreement. mikko seems oblivious to your shocked state, removing his remaining elbow pad and tossing it towards the back of his messy stall.

you catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent, and even with the sweat lingering across his forehead and soaking his branded undershirt, mikko smells so good. he's always been enveloped in a cloud of clean laundry and something slightly woodsy, and even though you're extremely professional, it never fails to make you falter.

you clear your throat and your head. "really?"

mikko runs the damp towel previously hung around his neck through his messy curls, making the appearance of them even more fluffy and soft. his eyes twinkle with amusement, a matching half smile blossoming on his lips. "yeah, really. why do you sound shocked?"

you make a tiny noise of confusion in the back of your throat, shooting a glance to lina over your shoulder. she sends you a triumphant look, brow raised like she knew that she was right.

she is right.

you look back at mikko quickly, "I just thought..." you trail off, brows pulling tightly as you think about the excuse he gave to lina—you're so confused. you've never noticed before if mikko had a certain favouritism towards you over lina, or even nick. I mean, you never paid attention to anything like that—but now you feel like you should be more aware, because this doesn't make sense.

"you thought..?" mikko raises one eyebrow, waiting for the second half of your sentence.

"nothing." you blink quickly, adjusting the phone in your hand. "sorry, let's just get to it."

you're still in some sort of shock for the rest of the day—the pieces of the puzzle in your mind loose and turned upside down as you try and understand mikko's dismissal of lina, or better yet, his compliance with you.

it had you further trying to solve the mystery. does mikko just prefer you? does he like your voice over your co-workers? maybe you smell like his favourite desert? does he like you? does mikko want to fuck you?

you're not sure where to pinpoint the source, but you're also determined to find the answer. with some help for lina, and even a little input from nick, you conjure up a plan—which lina finds the upmost entertainment in.

but you mean nothing but business. for the next few weeks it's only you who works with mikko rantanen—it's you asking him questions and having him participate in stupid games. and without fail, every single time you ask him, mikko complies.

so you get crazier with it. whether it's a questions about my little pony—a show mikko has never even heard of—or having him lift you onto his shoulder while a sabrina carpenter song plays through the tiktok recording—he is participating without complaining.

every. single. time.

it has your good friends, but ever so annoying colleagues theorizing.

"maybe he's got a thing for girls with her hair colour? can't resist them." nick chimes, sipping some piping hot coffee from an avalanche branded mug.

you roll your eyes, pulling open the microwave to grab your shitty frozen meal.

lina's laugh echos through the staff room, "mhmm...or maybe her eye colour." she sends you a teasing look before slurping some saucy noddles up into her mouth.

before you can respond nick pipes up again, "he definitely wants in her pants."

you take a seat beside lina—across from your male coworker—and send them both a slightly amused, but deadpanned look. "are you guys done?"

despite your attitude towards them, you can't help but wonder if their theories are correct. sure, mikko seems sweet enough—towards you anyways—but with the way you're barley pushing him into participating in stupid little tiktok's, has you pondering. mikko is nice...but not that nice.

is he just trying to get into your pants? and then forgot about you? the thought has you feeling angry, because you're not just some girl who he can treat nicely until he gets what he wants—absolutely not. and you're not going to let him treat you like a fool, just because he wants his dick wet.

the following day you’re determined to get answers and put your mind at ease. you like mikko—he’s a great guy—but you don’t want to feel like you’re being used. there was a team meeting and breakfast today, without the pressure of practice or a game—essentially an off day for the guys.

as the chaos of the dining room begins clearing out, only a few lingering athletes and staff members at some of the tables, you make your way across the room with a determined step, looking for mikko.

you catch the broad expanse of his back and blonde hair sticking out from underneath his beanie just as he slips out the door. you grumble to yourself, speeding up in hopes to catch him before he leaves the facility.

pushing open the rather heavy door to the hallway, you’re immediately greeted by his familiar laugh and gabe landeskogs smooth voice—spewing some dad joke that only mikko would find funny.

before you can sike yourself out, you march up to the two european teammates. “rantanen, I need to talk to you.”

they pause in their slow steps, conversation halting abruptly as both men turn to look at you. the sight of your hard expression and pointed gaze has mikko swallowing roughly, eyeing you with confusion.

gabe snickers quietly, the sound missing your ears, and pats mikko’s shoulder sympathetically. “last name, huh? good luck.” with that the avalanche captain stalks off, disappearing down the quiet hallway.

you cross your arms defensively, looking up—way up—at him, tone rough and determined. “are you trying to fuck me or something?”

“whoa whoa, just hold on a second.” mikko’s eyes widen, looking around the hallways quickly to ensure you were alone. even though he doesn’t see any physical bodies, mikko can’t be too sure—especially when he can sense the conversation is going in a direction that doesn’t need to be overheard.

he gently takes ahold of your wrist, guiding you towards the open meeting room directly across from the kitchen. the censor lights flicker alive as you step into the empty, quiet room—illuminating the once dark space.

mikko lets go of your arm, shutting the door with a soft click before turning back to you. he analyzes your face, eyes flickering over your still pointed eyes and the angry pull to your mouth. confused, he steps towards you. “are you joking with me?”

you raise your brows. “do I look like i'm joking with you, mikko?”

he shakes his head gently, like he’s trying to come up with a reason for your sudden coldness—you’ve never acted this way around him, and seeing you so irritated is rather strange. “why are you asking me that?”

he’s referring to the first question you’d asked him—rather angrily may he add. mikko is unsure what brought on the rather sexual outburst of a question, only because it’s so unlike you. in fact, one time ross colton tried to make a sexual innuendo with you, and you just about turned the colour of a ripe apple.

mikko thinks he must’ve done something—or said something to make you not only think like that, but ask him about—without so much as a blush on your face. you were serious.

you cross your arms again, defensive walls still built high. clearing your throat, you look away from mikko and towards the navy blue patterned rug covering the floor. “ why are you so nice to me?”

you practically whisper, timidly running your foot along the worn out carpet.

mikko blinks. “what?” he’s even more confused now—because why wouldn’t he be nice to you. you’re sweet, and respectful, and funny, and beautiful, and you’re you.

you meet his eyes again, expect this time there’s more emotion swimming in them, and you’re slowly coming down of your flurry of anger—left with fear and your own confusion. “like..,” you start unsure, “you only do the media stuff when i'm the one asking you to. are you only being nice to me so that like, you'll get in my pants?”

you’re right, he thinks. he only does media when you ask, but it’s not because he suddenly wants to if you’re the one asking, it’s because he can’t say no to you. mikko never wants to see you sad—he never wants to see the current look on your face when he can help it.

mikko shakes his head, slow and steady. “no. that's not why i'm nice to you.”

“no?” you parrot, the tiniest hint of disbelief in your tone.

“no.” mikko repeats firmly. “i'm nice to you because I like you.”

“like as a friend?” you gulp, arms falling to your sides as you’re no longer strong enough to hold them around yourself.

mikko doesn’t see the point of hiding his true feelings any longer. the thought of you thinking he had ulterior motives with his kindness literally makes his stomach hurt, and he can’t have you believing he’s trying to use you for his own benefit.

so with a gentle sigh, he takes another step closer to you, eyes softening as he takes in your hesitant gaze and red cheeks. “more than a friend.” mikko admits gently.

your face falls, “oh.” you’re in some sort of shock, looking up at the winger with parted lips and wide eyes. the way mikko is looking at you, so raw and real, has any lingering hesitance falling away, and your expression quickly shifts.

“yeah, oh.” the corner of mikko’s plump lip slides upwards, the beginning stages of a lopsided smirk growing on his flushing face.

he reaches towards you, slowly, hands enveloping the sides of your head as he holds you in his palms. mikko’s hands are so warm and big, completely covering your cheeks and ears—the feeling itself has you turned on.

your breath hitches as mikko’s rough thumbs begin running over your cheekbones, stroking your warm skin absentmindedly.

his tongue licks along his bottom lip, moistening the skin slowly. mikko swallows gently, not once taking his gaze off your flustered face. “but like, just so there’s no confusion, I would eat you out on the table until you’re crying if that’s what you wanted.”

you inhale sharply, stomach dropping with excitement and adrenaline. your body flutters at his words, “mikko.” you whine in a whisper, hands reaching out and resting against his hard pecks. you have no control of your hands, the need to feel him under your palms too strong. you begin running over his covered chest, his muscles tightening and nipples hardening under your deliberate touches.

mikko huffs shakily before he comes down, kissing you with as much passion he can manage. his lips are surprisingly soft and smooth, enclosing and teasing yours in a messy, hard way. the feeling has your stomach swooping further, toes curling in your shoes as the kiss grows harder—needier.

suddenly, mikko’s hands run down your body, passing over your ass with a firm squeeze. you moan into his mouth as his hands find the backs of your thighs, picking you up.

you gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on the table like it’s nothing—mikko smirks at the sound you make, and he can’t help the way his dick twitches in his pants. his wet lips trail off your mouth, travelling over your jaw and down your neck where he continues giving you hot, and hurried kisses.

reluctantly, your eyes flutter open, running a hand under mikko’s beanie, gripping the base of his hair between your trembling fingers. “we can get in a lot of trouble for this.” you breathe.

despite your words, your hips rolls against his hardening length, your cores at the perfect angle with you sitting on the table to grinding together deliciously.

mikko pulls back, eyes glazed with lust as he grins. “I know. so we'll just have to be sneaky.” his words are husky, sending your blood pumping and head swirling with need.

he leans back in, giving you another eye rolling kiss. you push his hat off his head completely, giving yourself free reign of his messy curls, tugging the blonde strands as your heart desires.

mikko pulls you closer on the tabletop, further bumping your clothed heat against his. his large hands slide underneath the back of your top, running over your spine and fiddling with the edge of your lacy bralette.

you sigh trembly, disconnecting the kiss. “i'll have to stop asking you questions though. because now I really won't be able to control myself around you.”

the admission has mikko smirking, biting his lip seductively. one of his hands round to your front, groping your tit over your bra. “I turn you on baby?” he already knew the answer to his question—your hardened nipples and shifting hips giving him all the information he needs.

you laugh through a breathless exhale, and you gently hit his shoulder. “be serious. you'll have to tolerate lina, and start saying yes when she asks you to do things.”

“no promises.” he chimes playfully, hands running back down your torso—leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you give him a soft, serene smile, which as mikko following suit—looking at you the way he always has. “I really like you, mikko.” you admit gently, one of your hands running over his building bicep before sliding around to rest on his shoulder blade.

for a moment, his smile remains admirable, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that has ever mattered. mikko has been dreaming of the day you say those words, and actually hearing you speak them is just otherworldly.

but because he’s a boy, and you’re his dream girl with his spit coating your plump lips—he can’t help himself. mikko’s hand rounds to your front, dipping underneath the waistband of your leggings and sliding over your underwear. he thumbs your clit over the thin material, and your mouth goes slack at his touch.

he breathes, smirking at the feeling of your arousal soaking through your panties. “yeah I can tell.”

“shut up.” you huff, pulling him back in to continue your desperate kiss.

[iamnmbr3]

Drarry fanfic can stir away from canon all it wants, fanfic is for fun. But I am really puzzled by the current trend to make it seem like Draco understood Harry. I have never read any fanfic that addresses this; Draco knows nothing about Harry and doesn't understand him at all. Harry understand Draco, for him Draco is predictable and an open book. But like, people forget that Draco hasn't read the books or Harry's inner thoughts to get him.

Yet, you still have people trying to change canon itself and make the relationship equal and mutual. Like, Draco doesn't know about Harry's hatred for fame, doesn't know about Sirius, doesn't know about Harry's relationship with Dumbledore. He doesn't know about Harry's childhood. Most of Harry's significant events in life, Draco know nothing about them .

With all of this, the Drarry fandom acts like Draco gets Harry more than anyone else. And even some fics( which is fine for fics, don't get me wrong) go as far as making Draco teach Harry about how Harry is ought to feel regarding Dumbledore and tell Harry how Dumbledore manipulated him. And often , Harry is shocked to understand a relationship that he experienced being explained by Draco, and acknowledge Draco to be correct. And it is like? Harry already understand Dumbledore manipulations bcs he lived them but he still chose to forgive.

My idea is, Draco doesn't know Harry at all, like zero knowledge. He is just like Snape, sees Harry as a version he created in his mind. So, it is just annoying that people try to rewrite canon just to enjoy their fics. Enjoy them! No need to act like Draco and Harry understood each other equally.

This is not an attack at you, I just wanted to see your opinion about this since I enjoy your blog.

Personally I actually disagree with most of this. I think the really striking thing about Draco and Harry, which for me makes drarry not just very compelling but also very accidentally canon, is that they are both shown to know a lot about each other and to really understand each other...despite not really having a good reason to. They aren't friends but they watch each other so careful and just get each other.

Now, because Draco and Harry have a fraught (to say the least) relationship, a lot of Draco's deep understanding of Harry is exemplified by the ways that he antagonizes Harry or criticizes him. So for example, you say that Draco doesn't know about Harry's hatred of his fame. But that's not true. He does know...and he uses that knowledge against Harry. Take, for instance, the bit in book 2 when Colin asks Harry for a signed photo in book 2 and Draco does this:

Draco is not doing this because he thinks he's helping Harry to live his dreams. He's doing it because Harry hates his fame and hates being in the spotlight...and Draco knows it. (Despite also being jealous of Harry's fame). I mean look at this bit that takes place a little later in the same scene:

Draco knows exactly what he did. Which is FASCINATING because most people don't realize Harry doesn't enjoy his fame. Even Ron doesn't fully grasp it till book 4 (and imho Ginny never really gets it) but Draco, who isn't even Harry's friend sees it and understands it.

Also, speaking of book 2, how about the way Draco immediately knows Harry couldn't possibly be the Heir of Slytherin or behind the attacks despite the fact that he literally saw Harry speak parseltongue right in front of him? As a result of that incident, most of the school thinks Harry's guilty. The only ones who don't suspect him even a little are Harry's close friends...and Draco. Draco not only immediately is like 'nope Harry would never do that' (even tho he's mad about it bc he wishes Harry WAS a blood supremacist) but he also looks annoyed every time he sees people saying that it's Harry...which anyone who has ever experienced everyone mischaracterizing their blorbo will understand.

And there's so many examples like that throughout the books. Draco always is so attuned to who Harry is and what he feels and wants. He usually uses that ability to push Harry's buttons but it's incontrovertible fact that he knows him.

Also, regarding your statement that Draco doesn't know about Sirius I'm not sure what you're getting at. Draco knows about Sirius's connection to Harry before Harry does. He's the one who brings it up to Harry in book 3. And later in book 5, presumably due to being privy to Death Eater intelligence, he knows that Sirius is important to Harry and tells Harry that Sirius was spotted on the platform in his animagus form (which actually helps keep Sirius safe - and honestly I could do a whole other post on Draco's motivations in this scene).

So yeah. Draco knows a lot about what's going on with Harry and about Harry's priorities. I do agree he doesn't know that much about the specifics of Harry's relationship with Dumbledore and would be unlikely to have an extremely critical view of Dumbledore, but that's not something I've seen in the drarry fics I've read.

[ruinedlover]

loser boyfriend!toge inumaki x fem!reader 18+

Warning: use of curse speech multiple times!

PT. 2

loser!inumaki whose shocked when you hug him suddenly, he gets hard immediately this your first time meeting even though you live in the neighboring city.

loser!inumaki whose even more shocked when you confess how much you’ve liked him this entire time (saw his face card and you were done for) and that you were so sad he blocked you over something you ‘obviously didn’t say anything about cause you liked hearing’

loser!inumaki who even though you liked him and he liked you, refused to ask you out then and there and so you guys just kept being friends, which was super awkward for both of you at first, but you decided to get to know eachother better in person

loser!inumaki who started coming over all the time after meeting you, neither of you liked being out much and your place became a chill spot since you lived alone

loser!inumaki who whenever he used your bathroom would see your laundry, one time a red piece of fabric was sticking out the dirty clothes bin and so he grabbed it, obviously it was a pair of your lacy panties, that were worn, he sniffed them, he ended up stealing them

loser!inumaki acting confused when you complained about your underwear all going missing (you weren’t dumb)

loser!inumaki who like a pervert got hard when sat to close to him and he could see down your lowcut shirt. who ended up excusing himself to the bathroom. pulling out those same red panties he stole the first time, holding them to his nose as he bit at his shirt to keep it up, and him quiet, pumping himself so fast it hurt but he had to be back before you noticed

you ended up knocking, before not caring to walk in, the walls weren’t thick, and though he was a ‘mute’ his noises were not quiet. perv!you who ended up ignoring the flustered Inumaki who had dropped your panties at this point. picking them up you threw them in the dirty clothes bin before reaching under your skirt and pulling the ones you were wearing off, handing them to him before walking out

“Hurry up and finish.”

loser!inumaki who flustered and embarrassed from your clear teasing accidentally called out to you;

“Wait!”

loser!inumaki who realizes he just used his curse technique on you and you had no idea what the fuck was happening as you stood at the doorway of the bathroom

“Toge-“

loser!inumaki who gets a bright idea;

“Get on your knees.”

loser!inumaki who didn’t even tell you what to do, you just started going crazy on it.

inumaki wasn’t small, but you took him in your throat like he was. he’s against your bathroom wall, holding your hair not to push but to pull you off him (which he failed at), he’s a red whining mess. your lips kiss his base, nose tickling his pelvic, nails dug into his thighs, spit and precum dripping from your chin.

loser!inumaki who swore you were some sort of succubus because even when he came you were still going till you dragged another one out of him

loser!inumaki who afterwards though he had never touched a woman in his life had you sprawled on the couch, head between your legs as he devoured orgasm after orgasm out of you. only one word would leave his mouth when you started showing signs you were about to-

“Cum.”

you were sure to ask later why you did whatever he asked but you didn’t care then.

loser boyfriend!inumaki who asked you out the next morning by making breakfast and writing ‘b my girl? 🤍’ in wip cream on your pancakes. (Then he had you for breakfast)

loser boyfriend!inumaki who immediately changed his status on discord to ‘IM MARRIEDDD (your @)’

Pt.3 ?

Can you tell this was rushed? And undedited? I wanna make another one where hes actually boyfriend but idk lmk

Thanks for reading come back for more !