#so I'm not sure where it is or if it exists

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

Ok I almost took a media literacy L here before I decided to check out their website. First off it is just a publishing company, they're not writing them with AI or writing them at all.

The core business model is that you pay them a (relatively small, starting at $1500 dollars, they say up to $5000) sum of money up front and then they publish it, and you get all of the royalties, and much quicker than normal at that. Now that may seem odd, how are they making money from this?

Luckily their website has a list of famous company names

no clue what that means but those sure are companies (they do say on a different webpage that these are places they have "appeared in". Always glad to see that a company has articles that were made about it.

They have this testimony and yep the book sure does exist and was published by these guys, you can buy it from 6 different sites (none of them have any reviews but some have a preview and I mean. it looks fine, I don't know a lot about it but it doesn't seem that good on first glance).

So what they do is:

Proofreading (there's an option to get a human to do it for a "small extra fee", no numbers are given), this seems fine enough although I'm sure a human could do it. But weirdly enough they have this testimonial

First off this guy is talking about editing not proofreading which. kind of weird. But also it's just one of those things where like. Granted I haven't published a book but generally my understanding is editors are not evil and these types of people tend to be too protective of their work. Also this is just digging at traditional publishing.

2. AI design covers for you

Sure why not. I mean it won't be as good & you're not paying artists but whatever.

Stunning picture of a guy who discovered what AI does

3. They make AI audiobook & does advertising/printing (unclear if you need to pay for this)

Now looking at their blog-posts. First off we see this wonderful one where they explain how online publishers work.

Hm. Any conflict of interest there? This is a relatively standard practice (at least among tech companies) to put your own product in the same "objective" stance.

Anyhow they also have one about AI publishers.

Shockingly they're talking about it from a "make the numbers gooder" perspective but it's fine (besides the part where they don't link their sources but ok). They do keep talking about how editing in a way that makes it just seem like "that thing you do where you pay a company money and then they let you publish it" instead of a process wherein another person tries to help you improve the book.

A lot of it is just stuff where I have to either take their word on it or not.

Like ok optimizing a book for marketability is already on the wrong track but if i wanted to do so is AI the right place for that? Who knows. I do have a suspicion these articles are written by AI not just based on the AI-generated images

(look at the keyboards) but the redundancy and their classic list format does make it seem somewhat likely, Granted they do have human authors listed & I'm not really that interested in AI-vestigating companies but worth noting.

As for the article screenshotted in the original post, https://www.thebookseller.com/news/new-publisher-spines-aims-to-disrupt-industry-by-using-ai-to-publish-8000-books-in-2025-alone

For the record they were already in publishing before shifting to AI

And... they just seemingly don't get the point? Or they view all of these professions as just obstacles to the core essence of the book. But this is pretty clearly a non-answer.

Now for how they make money.

let's do some quick math. We assume they have 6 books at 20 ratings each, and 1 in 5 people leaves a review. Each book costs around 15 dollars (based on looking up one of the book's prices). That means they make 9000 dollars. (Probably less given the book sellers take a cut) but still that would be a decent profit for the author. Except I don't know where the 100% royalties they boast comes from. On their terms and service they say this:

and this is only when you earn more than $25 in a certain period (the period gets shorter as you pay them more)

But don't worry about literally anything financial that's not the point!

"I want to help bring books to the masses" yeah that's what publishing does. Ok but he means writing books as a hobby and/or legacy, same thing. Well no the writing you do on your own it's the publishing. Because the physical copies are very necessary. Like I don't know if i'm in the minority but I'd rather read a free PDF than buy something with an AI-generated cover, and if authors don't care about profit then they should too.

This guardian article has points about how it actually works & its similarities to existing types of publishing.

Initial reactions that still hold:

Why that image?

Why are they called Spine?

What are they even disrupting?

Things that don't really hold: Oh ew they're writing 8000 books with AI? Why?

Things I'm mixed on:

Anything about the actual humans; they do actually employ as of now 15 people who provide some services (e.g. a production manager) but also their goal is mostly to replace the traditional humans (who they view with disdain) with as much AI as possible before it becomes bad

Everyone involved in this should be catapulted into the sun.

A new publisher plans to churn out 8000 books in 2025 using AI. Everything about this from the massive waste of energy to the absence of any creative curiosity is utterly fucking depressing.

[strawberryhotlips]

༆THE LAST WOMAN ON EARTH ☢︎︎- ➪enhypen ot7 x fem reader

SYNOPSIS: Moving to South Korea at just 20 years old to study medicine was something that made you extremely proud. You had so many plans for the future, but it seems that fate doesn't want the same for you. Overnight, a virus that affects only women spreads throughout the world, causing all the women in the world to die in a matter of weeks. You were the only one left standing, the problem? Nobody knew, only you. As time passed, you managed to survive this post-apocalyptic world, where you had to hide from men because if someone knew that a woman still existed, everything would go to hell for you. You didn't expect seven strangers to break into your house in the middle of the night and you didn't expect what was going to happen next either.

Word count: 4360

Pairing: enhypen! x fem!reader

Genre: Suspense, death, dystopian, post-apocalyptic world, angst, too much drama, slow burn, smut as the chapters go by (mdni), fluff, Possessiveness, jealousy, fights, toxicity, lots of love (I know, it sounds contradictory) enhypen are complete losers for the reader in the best way, strangers to lovers and other things that may happen later

Warnings!⚠️: Death, loss of loved ones, use of weapons, depression and anxiety problems, mentions of suicide, survival, vulgar and sometimes offensive language, graphic descriptions of traumatic events. If you are sensitive, don't read it for your own good. Rader is a little mean to the boys in this chap, but she's just defending herself! everyone is of legal age!! Heeseung is 26, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon are 25, Sunoo is 23, Jungwon is 22 and Ni-ki is 21.

Status: ongoing (16-01-2025 -)

Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction, everything came out of my head, the personality of the characters are not real and do not represent them in real life in any way, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental. Everyone is of legal age in this universe. English is not my first language so you will probably find spelling mistakes.

Hii beautiful people!! I'm finally back with the second chap of this story! It took me longer than the first one, sorry for the delay! hope you enjoy it a lot! You would help me a lot by liking, reblogging and commenting! Without further ado, thank you very much and enjoy!

CHAPTER I: "Disaster"

CHAPTER II: "Loneliness"

more under the cut ☟︎︎︎

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... that sound definitely wasn't the rain....

Your senses were sharpened to the maximum again, your hand gripping your weapon tightly and securing it close to your body. Your heart and breathing seemed to be in a race to see which one was faster, but you could be sure that your heart was the winner, as you could literally feel it pounding in your ears. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, nerves and anxiety on edge, you tried to swallow to moisten it, but your attempts were futile. You could feel tears stinging your eyes from the desperation you felt.

"Holy shit..." your voice was barely a whisper as you tried to process what was happening. You tried to calm yourself and sharpen your hearing so you knew how many men you were up against. Your room suddenly seemed suffocating and tiny, you felt the bubbling of a panic attack in your chest, you felt like you were going to die, your mind kept telling you that your minutes were numbered. You started to shake as one shudder after another went through your body like lightning, it was desperate and terrifying. You quietly climbed down from your bed and approached the door of your room on tiptoe. You wanted to listen better, because despite your fear, dying was not an option, not after surviving for so long. Breathing shakily, you leaned your ear against the door of your room, trying to catch a sound. Fuck, you had no idea what to do, fear made your legs shake slightly.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the intruders were breathing heavily and panting, a sign that they had been running. Their clothes were soaked from the heavy storm outside, so the floor was filled with small puddles of water and some mud "Fuck, that was close..." one of them said, trying to catch his breath, putting a hand on his chest, feeling the strong beating of his heart as he leaned against the front door, holding it shut.

How stupid you were. In the midst of crying for your mother, you'd forgotten the most important thing: securing the fucking front door of your house.

"It was all Jake and Ni-ki's fault, we almost got caught by the police!" another voice shouted, pointing at the named ones who looked at him with a mixture of indignation and disbelief, while the first boy who had spoken looked at him with wide eyes, signaling him to shut up.

"Excuse me? no no, no way, it's not our fault, no one forced you to come with us Jay..." another of the voices said with a distinctive accent, his words tinged with contempt "And try not to scream, the police might still be around.." Jay frowned and approached this one with indignant steps "Don't be an idiot Jake, we can't let you go off alone in the middle of the night, you know crime has risen too much in the last few years, there's a reason the government declared a curfew after midnight, fuck..." his voice sounded frustrated as he looked at him seriously. "'You're a grown man, you should have a little more conscience, you both could have been killed..." he said this time with more seriousness and concern, scolding him firmly in a whisper. The weight of his words hung in the air.

Definitely none of them wanted to die, let alone go to jail, Jay was right, they couldn't just leave in the middle of the night and put themselves in danger and worry the rest of the group. It was a miracle they had found this house, a few more minutes and the police would have caught them.

"Well, sorry, it was my idea Jay Hyung..." another deeper voice said as he scratched his neck a little embarrassed and looked at the elder "Anyway, we're all fine," he said this time with a little cheeky but guilty smile trying to break the tense moment.

A sigh was heard, followed by another clear voice. "It's okay Ni-ki, make sure you don't do it again please..." he asked firmly but at the same time calmly as he looked at the one named and also at Jake who nodded silently, feeling a little guilty, he had quite a bit of leadership in his voice. Ni-ki nodded, "Okay, Jungwon Hyung..." Ni-ki's deep voice hung in the cold air of the house as Jungwon sighed again.

The house was silent for a few seconds as the boys looked around and surveyed the place, ignoring the fact that they were freezing to death from the water that had fallen on them in the middle of winter. And it had occurred to Ni-ki that it would be fun to leave (escape) from where they lived at three in the morning, Jake saw him trying to leave and joined him on the pretext that he "couldn't let him go alone because it was too dangerous", which brought them all here.

Ni-ki was the youngest of the group, which of course made him the most rebellious, and someone like that always needed an accomplice, which was Jake most of the time, which led to both of them getting into trouble quite often.

"It's a nice house...strange that it's abandoned..." another voice, different from the others, a little softer, broke the silence, praising the architecture of the place, your place. And it was true, it was a huge house, with a modern vintage style. Another of the boys nodded in agreement as he shook his head a little, trying to get the water out of his hair, "Yeah, Sunoo's right...it's pretty nice for being abandoned..." The words hung heavy in the air as the boys looked at each other, seemingly searching for answers, there seemed to be an immediate understanding between them as the named one nodded and the seven began to explore the living room, their steps cautious in the new suspicion that someone already lived in the house. Even though it seemed empty, they had to make sure they were out of danger.

On the second floor, you had managed to identify seven voices from your room, where you were still trying to calm down. So they were being chased by the police for breaking the curfew, tsk...men. Your breathing was still fast, but as you listened to their conversations, you managed to calm down a bit, knowing that because of their actions, it wouldn't be very difficult to deal with them.......

or so you thought

You could hear them walking around your living room and decided that you needed to listen more closely, their voices were a little muffled by the distance. You were about to open your bedroom door slightly, but what sounded like something falling to the floor startled you slightly as your free hand instinctively grabbed the doorknob, as if holding on to it would somehow protect you from them.

"Shit..." cursed the voice of one of the guys whose name you hadn't heard yet, furrowing his brow slightly "Pfff...what an idiot, Heeseung Hyung..." Ni-ki said, letting out a laugh as he sneered at the older one, watching as he crashed into a nearby shelf, causing a ceramic jug to fall and shatter into several pieces on the floor.

Heeseung turned his head to look at Ni-ki with narrowed eyes, "Aish...hey, what a brat...i can't see..." mild annoyance ran through his dramatic voice as he defended himself and pointed at Ni-ki who was still laughing. The other five boys chuckled a little at the amusing situation between the oldest and the youngest of the group. They got along so well, you could hear a certain camaraderie in their voices, as if they had known each other forever "I mean, ....Ni-ki isn't wrong..." the other boy, whose name you didn't know yet, remarked with a slight sideways smile that showed his fangs a little longer than usual, a cute, not-so-usual attraction.

Heeseung looked at him without any amusement on his face, judging him with his eyes. They had this habit of teasing him, not that he really minded, but he was tired, hungry and soaking wet, not in a good mood "Really, Sunghoon, you too?" he shook his head in disapproval as Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders without saying anything else and let out a small chuckle. He was really stressed out too and fuck, the current situation had affected him a lot, he hadn't had pussy in over four fucking years and he fucked so often that he was really going crazy.

Not that he was a pervert (or maybe yes), but he excused himself by saying that "fucking relieved his stress and made him perform better in his daily life"

But he had never experienced falling in love, only one-night stands, just like the other guys. The hope that he could have pussy faded deeper and deeper in the back of his mind, and he resigned himself to settling for his own hand. But he refused to accept that idea, he still had some hope. He didn't just want to fuck, he wanted a woman he could love and who would love him, he wanted to be a good love and he also had a dream of being a father, something that obviously seemed unattainable for Heeseung, in fact it seemed unattainable for the seven men.

They really wanted to fall in love...

In fact, they were all stressed about the lack of pussy.... Even Jungwon and Ni-ki, who were still virgins and had never been able to bury their sad cocks in real pussy, were sexually frustrated. But for Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon and Sunoo, the feeling of being trapped inside a pussy was like nothing else in the world and now they could only remember and even imagine because fuck, four years without sex, it was like being a virgin all over again.

But come on, their hearts needed to be stimulated as much as their cocks.

Jungwon cautiously approached the now non-existent jar on the ground, bowing slightly and examining it, "If someone was here, they would have heard us by now..." he mused with a calm expression. He straightened as he turned to look at the other boys, they were like his family, he had known them for many years and loved them like his brothers.

The only thing that illuminated the living room at the moment was the light from the occasional thunder light that came through the window like a horror movie. It was a huge place, enough for everyone to be comfortable "I think we can either spend the night here or keep the place, after all, the one we had was getting too small for the seven of us..." he looked at them, waiting for a sign of denial, but they all seemed to agree.

It wasn't a bad idea, after all. They were in the middle of the forest, far away from the city, where there was more crime by the way, and the place seemed quite cozy. Besides, if Jungwon said so, it was because it had to be. He always made sure that everyone felt comfortable, even though they often fought like siblings, which was sometimes funny, Jungwon always prioritized everyone's well-being.

"Well, we should look for the bathroom, clothes and blankets, I'm freezing...we could take a bath..." Sunoo spoke for the second time, articulating each of his words with his hands. The boys nodded. A hot shower sounded great after running through the forest in the rain, so much that their legs felt tired.

"Good idea, we should split up, go through the rest of the house and look for the things we need..." fuck no, if they went through the rest of the house they would definitely find you and that couldn't happen, they couldn't find you, so you had no choice but to find them before it was too late.

Sunghoon's voice was full of determination as he explained his idea to the others, who immediately agreed. But before they could take action, you beat them to it for your own good.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you..." Your voice finally echoed through the living room with newfound certainty, causing a sudden hush to fall over the place. Your gun was pressed against the large back of one of the seven boys, who was now undeniably tense, you could tell by the way the muscles in his back were contracting under his clothes. He was tall, blond, and seemed to have well-defined biceps.....

"No, idiot, this is not the time to think about biceps, concentrate" You mentally scolded yourself.

Instinctively, he raised both hands to let you know that he was not going to attack you. His hands were shaking slightly and he was completely stiff as he felt the cold metal of your gun against his back, which, in addition to your distinctly feminine voice, sent shivers down his spine.

From your vantage point, you could see the faces of the other six boys, pale and still as if they had seen a ghost. And no wonder, they must be more confused and shocked than ever. The torrential rain that pounded against the windows and roof was the only thing that filled the deadly silence. It was the first time you had seen people in years, your heart was beating fast in your chest and you couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement...

or perhaps a mixture of both.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of them tried to move forward, his hair was a deep red, but quickly there was an instant click in your head as you pulled the safety off your gun, making him flinch in place, your survival instinct was at its peak "Take another fucking step and I'll blow your friend's head off..." your voice was cold as was the expression on your face, your breathing rapid, matching that of the guys in front of you who seemed more nervous than you.

Your eyes were still slightly red from crying earlier, and even though you were scared shitless inside, you didn't want to let it show, you didn't want them to notice your weakness. This time you leaned your gun against the back of the blond boy's neck, indicating that you meant business.

Fuck, they couldn't let something go unnoticed, something they thought didn't exist anymore and that they would never see again in their lives, suddenly the reality they lived in took a 180 degree turn when you appeared, you were a woman, fuck, you clearly were, and you stood in front of them and threatened to blow Sunghoon's head off with one shot. It all seemed like a lie, the last four years of their lives began to have an unbearable weight on their backs when they saw you. They began to think they were hallucinating and had to blink several times to process the information. Even so, their throats felt dry and their eyes couldn't take their eyes off you. Sunghoon began to feel impatient, yes, he was scared, but he also wanted to see you, so he gathered all his courage to speak

"M-Miss...we don't want to hurt you..." you idiot, he mentally cursed himself for stuttering slightly and scrunched up his face in an expression that clearly said 'I screwed up', he who never hesitated in front of any woman had just done it with you, which left his ego a little bruised, but he didn't care.

You clenched your jaw as you heard him speak, pressing the gun harder against his head, making him tense up even more, if that was possible, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...really, we don't mean any har-..."

Pathetic, he begged pathetically, but a mixture of fear and emotion controlled him at that moment, he couldn't control it.

"Shut up...you talk too much for someone who is being targeted..." your voice was cutting and harsh, making it clear that there was no room for discussion in your words, making Sunghoon shut up immediately as he nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly.

You had to find a way to control the situation, no matter what. You grabbed the boy's soaked shirt from behind and pushed him down, "Get on your knees..." you ordered firmly and he obeyed immediately, kneeling on the ground, you don't have many options when you have a gun pointed at you, making it so that everyone could see you better now. You didn't mean to be so rude, but you couldn't trust them, not yet, "You too, idiots, what are you waiting for?"

Yes, maybe you were too harsh, but you had to guarantee your survival first and foremost.

With the seven men now kneeling on the floor in front of you, you sighed and thought about what to do next. You weren't going to kill them, you weren't that kind of person, even if it gave them a free hand to hurt you, you just weren't that kind of person. But letting them go wasn't an option either, what were you going to do, stay with them? you didn't know them, the most you knew was their names and from the way they looked, they were all around your age.

"Are you really a woman?" the voice of one of them broke through your cloud of thoughts. Oh God, you didn't think they were that stupid, he really just asked you that?

You raised your eyes to look at the boy who had spoken, your brow was clearly furrowed, he had some blue strands in his black hair "Jay, shut up for God's sake," Heeseung spoke softly, clearly scolding him, really, he couldn't believe his friend had asked that. But he didn't blame him, he was just as or even more stunned than Jay by your presence, which made him move slightly in his place, not wanting to alert you, he really couldn't believe his eyes either, actually none of them could.

While you thought intently without saying a word, your gun still rested on Sunghoon's head. You bit your lower lip, trying to think of a quick solution, but damn, this was clearly going to take a long time. A sigh left your lips, you were sleepy, your body was aching and your head was going a mile a second, which made your mental situation difficult as well as putting your thoughts in order. In addition, you couldn't see much because there was no light and everyone's eyes were on you, which inevitably made you a little nervous.

Meanwhile, the boys' minds were no better off than yours, still trying to process that you actually exist and are not a figment of their imagination.

Hell, they even wanted, no, they had to be in Sunghoon's place. Just knowing that you were a woman got them going, but what about your assertive dominance? The way you had brought Sunghoon, who was probably one of the strongest in the group, to his knees with a simple command from your lips was fucking attractive.

The tension in the air was thick, not only because they were threatened at gunpoint, but also because there was an undeniable sexual attraction and tension between you and them. It was impossible to control, something instantaneous that left them with their breath caught in their throats and their cocks already half hardened in their pants, including Sunghoon himself. They didn't want to look like dogs in heat or perverts, they didn't want to scare you and make you think badly of them, but it was something that was simply out of their hands.

The cold they had felt from being soaked earlier vanished at a ridiculous speed and was replaced by warmth. Their faces were slightly flushed and now that they knew you were real, they couldn't help but imagine a lot of situations in their twisted minds, but damn, besides being hard, you were beautiful, a temptation at a glance that made them clench their thighs as their erections went wild.

Sunghoon, who was closest to you, was the most affected, he could even smell your scent, so soft and delicate, the scent of a woman. He stopped himself from inhaling your precious scent with all his might, forgetting that the tip of a gun was pressed against his head.

Jungwon cleared his throat, trying to find his voice in your presence, which was quite strong, "Miss, please..don't hurt us... we can just go and..." a dry laugh came out of your throat as you looked at him with narrowed eyes, cutting off his words, "Sure, I'll let you go so you can shout that you found a woman all over Seoul..." Your words were clearly sarcastic, rejecting his suggestion outright, making Jungwon quickly shake his head in an attempt to contradict you, but your gaze was enough to make him stop trying.

"Then you'll have to let us stay here..." the rational sense of Heeseung had left his head when he dared to say those words with a tone of boldness and obviousness as he looked at you with slightly half-closed eyelids, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

It infuriated you, how could he be so arrogant when you could literally kill him at any moment? You looked at him as you let go of Sunghoon and approached him with quickened steps. You grabbed his jaw with one of your hands and roughly lifted his face to look into his eyes while resting your gun on his forehead. Your eyes betrayed your anger, but he seemed too relaxed for his own good, "You better shut the fuck up, because if you don't..." the asshole didn't let you finish as he blatantly interrupted you, "If I don't, what?..." he dared you, not only with his voice, but also with his eyes.

How fucking dare he?

"You're not going to kill us..." he said, his fucking grin getting bigger and bigger, "if you wanted to, we'd all be dead by now from the moment you walked into this room, precious..."

Oh fuck, he couldn't be that fucking arrogant, but he was right, you wouldn't kill them and you hated that he could read you so easily without even knowing you.

You clenched your jaw, wanting to break his ridiculously attractive face, because that was one little detail you hadn't been able to overlook, they were all fucking attractive, but you couldn't afford to think about that when your top priority had to be keeping yourself safe.

You clenched his jaw with your hand, your fingers digging lightly into his skin, causing a small sigh to leave his lips, "You're right, i may not want to kill you...but I'll blow your fucking balls off if you keep spitting shit..." this time he didn't dare interrupt you, instead he seemed to be lost in limbo. His gaze was fixed on your lips as you spoke each word with furious determination....

Fuck, you had fire in you

The formula was simple: danger equals adrenaline, adrenaline equals thrill, and thrill equals arousal. There was no other way to explain why they enjoyed danger so much.

The others were waiting for the scene to unfold in front of them.

So you weren't going to kill them. A relief settled in their chests when they realized that you weren't a bad person, you were just defensive, which was completely normal when seven intruders enter your house in the middle of the night. Jungwon had quickly understood and realized that Heeseung had been the first to notice, that's why he dared to talk to you like that. Now the group was less tense, they trusted their oldest member, they knew that Heeseung wouldn't risk doing something he wasn't completely sure about.

"All right, no need for anyone to get hurt, miss..." Jungwon interrupted what seemed to be a dueling stare between Heeseung and you, his words a little more confident now that Heeseung had taken it upon himself to break through the layer of harsher tension, but still he was being cautious.

Your eyes didn't leave Heeseung's and you didn't take the gun away from his head either, but his words echoed in your head and honestly, you didn't have much of a choice. Curiosity bubbled in your chest, you wondered what to do, you had been alone too long, you remembered nights when you couldn't sleep because you were so scared. Maybe letting them stay was your best option, you knew you were the last woman on earth, you were sure that if you asked them to do something, they would do it without hesitation and maybe they could protect you. Bring you out of your state of loneliness, which seemed to grow with time.

The boys' knees were starting to hurt from kneeling for so long, but the tense situation in the living room was too tense for any of them to try to make a move. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, including you.

A sigh escaped your lips when you realized that you would have no choice but to let them stay here, but if that was going to happen, it would be under your own rules. You didn't want to be alone anymore, which didn't mean that you were going to blindly trust them overnight, because trust was a luxury you could pay dearly for if you decided to put all your cards on the table.

You let go of Heeseung's face and slowly lowered your gun, your gaze, still quite hard, shifting from him to the other guys as you took your time to study their expressions.

"Alright..I'll let you all stay..." you finally declared and your words were an immediate comfort to the seven men in front of you, but before any of them could say anything you continued "But..." you fell silent for a few seconds, letting the anticipation fill the air "if any of you do anything stupid, i swear...

i will kill you..."

taglist 🫶🏻: @strxwbloody @ch4c0nnenh4 @aussie-boys-wife @deobitifull @engeneheree @suhwife @elairah @merwdusa @d-dilemma @liafterhours @btxtenha @wonenonly

[zerocoded]

summary: headcannons of what caleb is like in bed.

authors note: help me i need him chronically. this is my opinion babes! i can't shut my brain off when it comes to him anymore. waiting for the 22nd to come is like waiting for my husband get back from war. everything here is what i read about his character so far, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: nsfw content • minors dni • SMUT • talks about size kink, teasing, fingering with his prosthetic bla bla, idk what else. A LOT. • this is basically word vomit, i'm sorry.

word count: 1.2k

caleb might be more conscious of his touch, especially with his bionic arm, carefully adjusting his strength to ensure comfort and gentleness.

i KNOW bro can’t keep his grunts down, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

he wants to consume you entirely, like occupy your every thought and feeling when getting intimate with you.

he’s a sucker for your reactions, so attentive to the point it makes you shy.

ALSO he’s so big—like everything about him is just massive. we know that already, right? sometimes HE forgets.

i just got a feeling that caleb's bed is enormous, like king-size for real, made for someone his size. like BIG BIG. because he's a big boy.

he kind of doesn’t fully grasp how strong he is or how big he is compared to you, like the first time he closed his hands around your throat, he gave you whiplash.

everything in his apartment is set high to accommodate him, and you struggle with it constantly.

his frame completely consumes you, overwhelming but in a way that feels safe.

one time, tara walked in on the two of you mid-moment, she was sleeping on your apartment for some reason and caleb came from the farspace fleet really missing you. she asked caleb where you were, and he just casually said "here," while tara bolted out, flustered beyond belief when she realized what was going on.

you were literally UNDER him and to anyone passing, it looked like he was alone lol.

you two have little banter all the time, thanks to growing up together as childhood friends.

tell me i'm not getting too ahead of time, but i gotta say this. when you’re pregnant, caleb has this habit of saying “shush, i’m talking to the baby” every time he rests his head on your belly.

THAT'S SO CUTE, RIGHT? URGH.

he loves being in control – not in a domineering way, but because he wants to make sure you feel completely taken care of. he’s meticulous, learning what you like and pushing those boundaries just enough to drive you wild.

his size is an obsession for him – he’s hyperaware of how much bigger he is compared to you, and he uses it to his advantage. holding your wrists in one hand, pinning you beneath him, or just the way his body completely overshadows yours—it gets him going every time.

he’s vocal, but only for you – low grunts, whispered praise, and occasionally losing control with a deep growl when you hit just the right spot. but he’s also hyperaware of how you react, loving every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.

a possessive streak – he doesn’t say it outright, but the way his hands grip your hips or how he marks your skin with kisses is all about claiming you. his touch lingers, even when you’re just walking around afterward.

obsessed with eye contact – he insists you look at him, especially in your most vulnerable moments. “keep your eyes on me,” he murmurs, his gaze locking you in place as if the world outside the two of you doesn’t exist.

an absolute tease – he loves winding you up, taking his time until you’re begging him to stop playing around. slow kisses down your neck, feather-light touches that leave you trembling—he knows exactly what he’s doing.

his hands – they’re huge and rough, but his touch is incredibly gentle when he wants it to be. he loves how your body reacts to the contrast, and he uses it to his full advantage, whether he’s tracing your spine or gripping your thighs.

THE BIONIC ARM? OH MY GAWD.

he really hates the fact that he can't feel you - at all. but his prosthetic can come in handy sometimes 😏

he could use his arm’s advanced capabilities, like adjustable pressure or vibration, to focus on your pleasure, experimenting with new sensations. GUYS I HAD TO SAY IT.

i just know he teases you gliding the cool metal over warm, flushed skin and eliciting shivers of delight.

not him using it like your own personal vibrator. turning on subtle vibrations during a kiss or when he's fingering you.

he LOVES to explore areas like the neck, back, or thighs, using varying pressures to heighten your sensitivity.

aftercare king – he’s all about making sure you feel safe and comfortable afterward.

he’s a little shy about certain things – despite his confidence, there are moments when he feels self-conscious, like when you run your fingers along the scars on his body. but your touch soothes him, and he grows to crave the intimacy of being vulnerable with you. again, his prothetic can become a insecurity of him on these times.

unexpectedly playful – he likes to keep things fun, especially when the mood is light. sneaky touches, biting your ear just to hear you squeak, or pulling you onto his lap when you least expect it.

easily undone by you taking control – as much as he loves being in charge, when you take the lead, he absolutely melts. seeing you confident and assertive makes him lose every ounce of his composure. I JUST KNOW HE LOVES IT.

praise kink on both sides – he loves telling you how good you’re being, how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel. but he’s also weak for your praise—if you tell him how much you want him or how amazing he’s making you feel, it’s game over.

a sucker for your scent – burying his face in your neck or your hair is his favorite thing. he associates your scent with safety and home, and it’s an instant comfort for him, even when things heat up. i just know he missed you so much while he was gone.

light experimentation – he’s always willing to try new things if it means making you happy. he might be cautious at first, but your enthusiasm has a way of bringing out his adventurous side.

he’s an absolute wreck for soft moments – when you’re tender and loving, gently tracing his features or whispering sweet things, it undoes him completely. he’s all about intensity, but those quiet, intimate moments leave him weak in the knees.

he’s competitive – if you ever tease him or play hard to get, he rises to the challenge, determined to win you over every single time. and when he does, he’ll make sure you know it.

obsessed with your reactions – he watches your every move, cataloging the way your body arches, the sounds you make, and the way your breath catches. nothing escapes his attention, and he uses that knowledge to drive you to the brink.

neck kisses – his favorite spot to tease and mark. he loves the way you shiver when his lips brush over that sensitive spot just below your ear.

secretly loves when you’re a little rough – tugging on his hair, biting his shoulder, or leaving marks on his skin? he thrives on the proof of how much you want him. it’s like a badge of honor for him.

he’s insanely attentive to detail – he remembers everything you like, from the way you gasp when he kisses your collarbone to how your breathing changes when you’re close. he uses that knowledge to make sure you’re always completely satisfied.

i need to write about him loving us ASAP, bye.

author's note: i came up with these while trying to write for caleb's love language (the thrid chapter) and i thought i could use it as a solo post hehe. see you guys next! send me a request • my masterpost

[plaidos]

do you really think radical feminism is unsalvageable from a transfeminist perspective? i've been reading a lot of Talia Bhatt's writing lately, and it really reminds me of a lot of the stuff you've talked about on your blog; i find her argument that allowing TERF ideology to subsume the entirety of second-wave feminist theory is throwing out the baby with the bathwater to be incredibly compelling. a theory which centers patriarchy to be the radix of gendered violence and oppression, which is uncompromising and does not give into liberal feminist ideas about womanhood being a "meaningless category," gender liberation involving essentially defining trans women out of existence, etc, seems sorely needed at a moment where liberal feminism has vaguely hand-waved in trans rights specifically in order to prioritize trans *men* and valorize masculinity while continuing to abjectly marginalize transfems, and i find Bhatt's total rejection of white cis TERF co-option of radical feminism and reclamation for the new wave of transfeminist thought to fit that need. anyway that's not intended to ask you to argue with me or anything, i'm just as interested in hearing why you disagree as i am in hearing if you do agree, and i'm not looking to convince you or be convinced either way! i've just been thinking about this a lot lately since stumbling across her (honestly incredible) theory on third-sexing and getting introduced to the concept through that, i'm still working through my thoughts on it and looking for more to read both on it and in opposition to it, and the discussion on radical feminism prompted me to see if you had any thoughts; no worries if not.

yeah i mean @taliabhattwrites and i are literally mutuals on here even so i would hope im not jsut totally denigrating her incredibly insightful & groundbreaking commentaries on the subject when i criticise the second wave haha!

like i don’t know if i have/would say “radical feminism is unsalvageable” because im not even sure what that would mean right? like radical feminism isn’t a concrete object that we can literally build/tear down but yes of course there is almost always worth in reading feminist history & perspectives even those that we fundamentally disagree with because as you said there is a lot to be gleaned from the theories & works & histories.

im honestly not sure where you’ve gotten the impression that like i would just throw out “the baby with the bathwater” so to speak because to be honest i’ve been trying to be pretty careful about not just dismissing all radical feminism as fundamentally transmisogynistic specifically because of the incredible value i’ve found in Talia’s approach

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi sex witch! I (a teen) was talking with my friends (also teens) about sex, specifically hookups with people you aren’t necessarily romantically involved with. They said that as a teen that’s a bad idea, since hormones or whatever fuck with uour brain and cause an unhealthy obsession or smth we watched rocky horror immediately after and I forgot the details. Is that true? That sounds not true, teens have sex and oftentimes have sex with people they aren’t in relationships with, and I’ve literally never heard anything like that before they said it. Anyway, as a horny teen who wants to engage in some no-romance hookups I’d like to know if this would idk turn my brain to mush or whatever

hi there, friend,

listen: there is no existing age where sexual and romantic entanglements don't put people at risk of getting their feelings hurt if things don't go the way they hoped. that's not something you grow out of when you're done being a teenager; it comes free with being a person. a hot tip that nobody wants to talk about is that this also isn't exclusive to sexual and romantic relationships; caring about your friends or your family or your neighbors or your pets or anything at all comes with the potential to get burned because giving a shit is inherently vulnerable. and yet, we do it anyway! isn't that beautiful?

teenagers have a reputation for having very high drama relationships because most teenagers are experiencing a lot of firsts - first crush, first date, first relationship, first kiss, first partnered sex, first heartbreak, etc - and firsts are exciting and scary and engender a lot of big feelings. your that's quite understandable; everything is more stressful when you haven't done it before. as I'm shuffling towards 30, I find that the times I feel youngest are when I'm most uncertain and out of my element, because such a big part of being young is having a very limited frame of reference and no idea how to cope with a great deal of things.

(conversely, getting older mostly involves mellowing out because you know how to handle way more situations and solve way more problems than you did when you were younger.)

a lot of moralizing panic around teenagers' sexuality tries to paint teenagers being sexual as A Bad Thing Always, No Exceptions, and try to push the idea that teenagers just shouldn't be permitted any form of sexual exploration. I think that's bullshit, partly because it's impossible to actually enforce and mainly because denying sexual expression is deeply cruel, and also because the teen years are a really important window for practicing for adulthood. including intimacy! great time to practice intimacy, and I sorely wish every teenager had the space and security to comfortably explore with support from their guardians.

when I caution young people about sex, it's just to say that, yes, sex can sometimes cause new problems and new feelings that you don't know how to deal with. fear or anxiety or insecurity can make people say and do things that hurt them and others all the time, especially in intimate relationships, so be careful and do your research to cut down on the risks you can control (for instance: following safer sex practices, keeping your body clean and healthy, talking to partners about boundaries and emotional well-being). not every sexual or romantic partner has to be forever, but partnering with people you like, trust, and know how to talk to will make it easier and less scary to figure out what to do together if/when unexpected problems do arise.

being a thoughtful and communicative partner is GREAT skill to start practicing as early as possible, trust me - I get plenty of very grown adults in my inbox who are still figuring out how to do it.

in conclusion: there's nothing inherently dangerous about sex with someone who's not a romantic partner, just make sure you're picking people wisely and looking out for everyone's safety.

[shockercoco]

Shambles

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, knife kink, blood kink, fingering, oral (f! receiving, squirting, penetration

Word count - 2783

a/n - request: "Hi! Your fic Bloodlust (feyd) has me in SHAMBLES. 🥵😂 I’m so in love with it!!!!" - read the rest of the request here @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascalI . I got this request about 4 months ago, but I've just been so distracted with college that, as you can see, I've taken forever to get to it. I do want to be more active on tumblr, but I'm also writing a feature length screenplay on the side. As always, tysm for the love while I've been gone and your patience, and I hope you guys enjoy :)

“Which one do you suggest, my darling?” Feyd asks you, his bare back to you.

You look over at Feyd from your place on the bed, who stands in front of his walls of weapons. His fingers ghost over a few before glancing back at you, waiting for an answer. His injury from his fight is no longer leaking on his arm, but your red handprints are still very much visible on his body.

You know he means to use one of the weapons on you, but hearing him say those words out loud made your throat dry and heat drip from your opening. You feel your walls clench around nothing at what’s to come. “For what?” you innocently ask.

Feyd doesn’t take his eyes off of the wall when he answers, “You know exactly what I mean.”

You hate the fact that this situation is turning you on, when it should be doing the exact opposite. Turning on your side, you point towards a weapon. “How about that one right there?”

Feyd turns his head to look at you, and then follows to where your finger is pointing – the smallest knife on the wall. It honestly looks kind of pathetic next to the others. He smirks to himself already knowing you would choose something like that. “Are you sure? That one’s kind of tiny, don’t you think something more commanding would be more fitting for a woman such as yourself?”

“Big things come in small packages,” you tell him, giving him a small shrug.

You know Feyd’s extremely skilled with almost any weapon in existence, and you trust him enough to know that he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose, but that still doesn’t stop the fact that he’ll be putting an actual blade to your skin.

Feyd’s eyes linger on you for a second, before breathing out a small laugh and removing the tiny knife from its place on the wall. The knife is barely longer than the distance from his wrist to the tips of his fingers, but it’s still sharp and intimidating. He rotates it in his hand, watching in excitement the light catch it, before turning away from the wall.

You feel your heartbeat speed up as Feyd walks towards the bed, his strides slow on purpose as he continues to rotate the knife in his hand. Your gown is gone, but your body still feels hot. He stops right in front of the bed and looks down at you, his smirk never faltering.

Feyd lets out a small hum as his eyes travel up and down your bare body, your soaked panties being the only thing giving you some sort of coverage as they cling to your opening. You would be lying if everything pooling in your panties was from your previous orgasm. 

You shift a little as he stares at you, starting to feel uncomfortable. His smirk widens as he notices your movement. He knows how much you hate his intense gaze – that is when it’s on you. You enjoy watching Feyd stare down his opponent in the arena.

“Should I clean myself up for the lady before we get started?” Feyd questions, referring to the blood stains on his bare torso.

“No,” you don’t hesitate, but watching Feyd’s expression makes you regret how eager you just sounded.

Feyd’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “Well, look at you. You’re changing, my love, and I’m enjoying every second.”

“You’re a bad influence,” you tell him, to which he nods in agreement.

He only admires you for a moment longer before sinking to his knees in front of the bed. You let out a small squeal as he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you towards his face, your legs now dangling off of the edge of the bed. You push yourself up onto your elbows to keep him in view.

Feyd’s smirk seems to turn sinister as he’s now face to face with your covered cunt, his eyes mimic the shade they turn when he’s in the arena. You begin to feel like his prey. Feyd’s mouth waters at the fact that your wetness has made your panties almost transparent, allowing him to see the outline of you and your sweetness pooling at your entrance.

A gasp leaves your lips as Feyd lays the flat side of the blade on the skin of your leg, gently tracing up to your thigh and then to the edge of your panties. Goosebumps form on your skin at the feeling of the cold metal floating across you.

You watch as Feyd carefully places the blade over you through your panties, making your body slightly jump as you feel everything through the thin fabric. Your body feels as if it’s buzzing, and Feyd’s just getting started.

Feyd tears his eyes away from between your legs to look you in the eyes, giving you a questioning look as he looks for any sign of you wanting him to stop. When Feyd doesn’t see anything, he continues his movements.

Given the extreme sharpness of the tiny weapon, it only takes a small press for your panties to begin tearing. Once the fabric has been rendered useless, Feyd tosses it aside and moves his face closer to your cunt, enjoying the way your hole winks at him.

His eyes close as he breathes in your scent, a pleased sound leaving him as he smirks. Your hips jerk as he places a thumb on your clit and begins to rub tiny circles into you, before running his thumb up and down your slit. Your eyes close and your head tips back at the feeling.

“Looks like I already prepped you well,” Feyd says, mainly to himself as he watches his thumb move along your folds with satisfaction. A clicking sound forms from your wetness being spread around.

He quickly dips the tip of his thumb into your opening before pulling it back out and going back up to give attention to your clit. A small whimper leaves your lips as your back hits the bed, no longer having the strength to hold yourself up. Your limbs already feel weak.

You suddenly feel something stiffer and harder touch your clit. You glance down to see Feyd rubbing the tip of the knife’s handle into you. Your mouth falls open as your hips subconsciously begin to move. 

Feyd then slides the handle of the knife through your folds, spreading your lubricant around the handle. He clenches his jaw as he feels himself grow hard from the sight before him and the sounds of your pants growing louder in his ears.

Once the handle seems to be coated enough, he dips it further down for it to prod at your entrance. Your hands grip the bed sheets in anticipation at what’s to come, nerves flooding your stomach as your heart continues its fast pace.

“Just do it al-,” you begin to say, but cut yourself as you feel Feyd apply more pressure and push the handle into your welcoming opening. A gasp leaves your lips at the off yet enjoyable feeling of the ridges along the handle rubbing along your inner walls. Your head falls back against the bed as Feyd pushes and pulls. 

The grasp Feyd has on the actual blade is not too tight, but the blade’s edges are still digging into his palm. Feyd lips part as he watches the handle repeatedly disappear inside of you, the corners of his mouth twitching. He quickly swallows when he feels his mouth start to water in hopes to keep himself under control.

“You’re such a pleasant sight, my love,” Feyd muses. “I could look at you all day.”

But when he says this, he never takes his eyes away from you dripping opening. The grip you have on the sheets tightens as you moan at his words

“Oh my god,” you mewl, your eyes rolling towards the back of your skull.

The sound of your slick grows louder the longer Feyd continues his motions – this just turns you on more. You can feel yourself dripping onto the fabric underneath your body. Your back arches as your hips move with Feyd’s hand. Everything is so lewd and unlike anything you’ve ever done.

“Feyd-,” you breathe out, accidentally cutting yourself off with a whimper. Your body is trembling and you can already feel yourself approaching the end.

“I know, I know,” Feyd coos, finally looking up at your blissed out expression. He smirks at the way the back of your head digs into the sheets, your eyes squeezed closed with pretty noise repeatedly leaving your lips. Feyd notices your squirming becoming more evident and does everything he knows to bring you to the edge.

He suddenly pulls the handle out of your cunt and tosses it aside on the bed, your walls desperately clamping around nothing at the sudden loss. Your eyes open in confusion as you tilt your head down at him. He doesn’t give you a chance to question him before he’s shoving two long fingers inside of you.

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes!” you cry as Feyd curls his fingers along your sweet spot.

Feyd places his unoccupied hand on your stomach to pin your body to your bed and to give himself more leverage to roughly finger you.

“Come on,” Feyd grunts to himself.

It doesn’t take much longer for your climax to arrive, causing every inch of your body to feel tight and loose at the same time. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out as your eyes widen and roll back.

“Fuck!” you pathetically sob out. The wet squelches of your cunt grow louder as Feyd’s fingers contine.

Your arousal comes out in spurts around his fingers – some landing along his palm and forearm while the rest pools onto the soaked sheets. Feyd tries to prolong your squirting as long as possible, his smirk never faltering as he uses more force to hold your body down. The crazed look on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you hate the warm feeling beginning to form again in your stomach.

You squeal as you blindly bring a hand between your legs, your thighs closing around his hand. This has no effect on Feyd at all. You choke and pant as you use your shaky hands to try and crawl away from the tortuous pleasure. A deep chuckle leaves Feyd’s chest as he allows you to pull away and watches as you push yourself back to the headboard.

Your chest heaves as you stare at the ceiling to help you collect yourself. This, though, causes you to miss the wonderful view of Feyd removing your juices from his fingers with his mouth. He groans as his lips surround his fingers and his tongue savors your flavor. Your sweet taste doesn’t help the thick bulge growing in his underwear, but Feyd finds the pain pleasurable.

“What a mess you’ve made,” Feyd muses.

The thin layer of sweat covering your body contributes nothing to how deliciously filthy you feel. A constant buzz is running through your limbs and your head feels light. Your eyes catch the sight of the abandoned knife a couple inches from your body – the wetness coating the handle can be easily seen.

You’re brought out of your little daze with the feeling of large hands wrapping around your ankles. 

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already? You would think I’ve trained you better than that with the many nights we’ve shared,” Feyd’s tone is condescending as he talks, his expression smug.

Nothing comes to your mind that seems worth it to say, so you just stay silent and continue to try and catch your breath.

“Come on, my sweet, I know you have more in you,” Feyd purrs as he pulls you back down to the end of the bed.

Just as your heart rate was about to return back to normal, you feel it pick back up again at the meaning behind his words. Your legs feel limp, so it’s easy for Feyd to spread them apart and place his face between them, his eyes never leaving yours.

His warm breath tickles your sensitive opening, causing goosebumps to appear across your skin as you tremble in his hold. Feyd moves his attention to your messy folds, which take up his field of view in such a perfect way. He blows a puff of air onto your cunt and watches as your body jumps and your walls clench around nothing as your arousal continues to seep out.

You can help but let out a soft moan at the feeling.

Feyd sticks his tongue out to give you a small kitten lick before slipping his tongue back into his mouth. Your thighs go to close again, but Feyd keeps them apart with his hands. He tosses your legs over his shoulders to make sure your precious cunt is as close as possible to his face.

“Feyd, baby,” you softly whimper out as you look down at him.

“Will you let me have a taste? A powerful woman such as yourself deserves to be cleaned up,” Feyd teases as his eyes meet yours again, “Don’t you think?”

You let out a small whimper as Feyd begins to place light kisses on your trembling inner thighs. He doesn’t break eye contact as he waits for your answer.

“What do you say?” he questions, hovering his mouth over your drooling cunt.

“Yes, just do it,” you weakly breathe out.

Feyd barely lets you finish your sentence as he dives into your opening, swiping and licking up every bit of your arousal he can find. He begins to thrust his tongue in and out of your opening, making you whine. Despite your sensitivity, you buck your hips into his face, giving Feyd deeper access to you as he holds you tight against him.

Feyd groans against your folds, sending the vibrations through every nerve ending in your body. You choke on a moan as a gasp leaves your lips and your back begins to arch again. Feyd slips his tongue out to place it on your clit, wrapping his lips around your swollen bud and gently sucking before sliding back into you.

It doesn’t take long for you to be brought to the edge of your next orgasm with the way he’s messily lapping at your folds. He feels your thighs begin to shake even more and doesn’t get deterred when he feels you tighten them around his head.

Your body begins to thrash in his hold, but Feyd only tightens his hold on your body as he continues to shove his tongue in and out of you. When you feel Feyd move a hand and place his thumb on your clit, you immediately fall apart – repeatedly bucking your hips into his face as your hands scramble along the sheets to try and find something to grab ahold of.

Only when Feyd finally pulls his lips away from you is when your body relaxes in his grip. Feyd hums as he licks your juices from his lips, closing his eyes to savor the taste. You don’t get much time to calm down before Feyd is removing the rest of his clothing, situating his hips between your thighs, and letting his aching cock rest against your abdomen. 

You feel yourself throb as you look down at his length on your abdomen, watching it twitch and the precum slowly leak from the tip.

“I hope you’re ready for another, darling. After all, I still haven’t had my release,” Feyd sends a fake pout your way. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you barely have energy left. 

“Baby…I can’t,” you whine, and Feyd just shakes his head.

Feyd places a gentle hand against your cheek as places his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you with his arms. He moves his lips towards your ear to whisper, “You can, and you will. I believe in you.”

Your inner walls clench around nothing at his tone and the feeling of his warm breath tickling your neck. Feyd doesn’t give you a chance to say another word before lining himself up with your entrance, meeting no resistance from your soaked and welcoming opening.

The both of you share a moan as he pushes all the way in. Feyd leans his head onto your shoulder, needing a second to get control himself as he feels your tight, warm walls sucking him in. You can’t see the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull and his jaw clenches, before his hips begin to move against yours.

Like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[low-budget-korra]

The lies Arcane Fandom likes to believe

Okay, I've seen a lot of awful takes in other social medias but now they are getting here too and I just can't. So I will talk abt the truth a lot of the fandom chose to ignore. And I'm saying "the truth" because different from a lot of ppl, I've actually watched the show and paid attention to the scenes.

1. Jinx is the only one who has been traumatized

Half of the worst takes about characters like Vi or Caitlyn, wouldn't exist if ppl realize that Jinx WASN'T the only one who got traumatized. Vi spent 7y getting beat up in prison, without eating properly and confined in a dirt cell. And no, she is not the one to blame for the person Jinx became. Jinx has to be held accountable for that, just as much as Silco for feeding her paranoias and manipulating her for years.

2. Caitlyn was a evil character and manipulated Vi

Season 1 Caitlyn shows nothing but empathy and patience, y'all like to say Jinx was a revolutionary but s1 Caitlyn was a revolutionary. "Oh but she was rich, she can't be" oh my sweet summer child...

Anyways, she wanted to end Silco cartel - that was destroying Zaun. She even managed to get a council meeting to talk about this. She wanted to change things and she was acting towards this.

Then she got kidnapped naked, tortured for hours, didn't take the shot that would have saved her mother's life, her mother was murdered, the memorial ceremony was attacked and yet she REFUSED to follow the council's ideas to use full force and invade Zaun. Which led us to

2.1 Caitlyn used the grey against innocents

She DIDN'T. She said it herself that the plan was to capture Silco's goons and destroy the slimmer factories. And we see that in the Hellfire sequence.

So stop spreading that she was using the grey against innocents bc the people she used against it were Chembaroons who provoked a civil war on Zaun for power, and used children labor in its factories. They are far from innocents.

2.2 Caitlyn manipulates Vi

I don't even know where this fake news came from bc I've already watched Arcane 3 times, watch at least 4 reaction channels and a few analysis on yt and no one apart from some of y'all in fandom sees this. Jinx manipulates Vi way more than Caitlyn, for example, she is the one that makes Vi believe that her becoming Jinx is her fault.

3. Viktor and Jayce did nothing wrong

Jayce basically built a Chernobyl above Zaun just bc if Hextech goes bad, people from Zaun would be the ones suffering the consequences and not Piltover.

Y'all like to call Caitlyn a genocide (even tho we didn't see any kill directly from hr actions), when Viktor is literally the one willing to kill people in the thousands just because he believes it's the best call. "I want to evolve all those willing to" excuse me? Sir, what "evolve" even means in this scenario? Bc those "evolved" ppl became nothing more than marionettes with no control over their actions and completely brainwashed.

4. Caitlyn was a dictator, she knew everything that was happening on Zaun and did nothing

Caitlyn was actually a pawn in Ambessa chess, a face to Ambessa actions, a face to take the blame for. Noxus could not just simply invade Piltover and install an Martial Law without the support of a major house like house Kiramman.

Essentially what Ambessa did was promote Caitlyn, and hide behind her status. Because if any other Piltie house questions, she could be like "but I'm just here to support the Kirammans, I'm just doing what Im told"

We see in episode 4 that the Noxians are the ones dealing with Zaun's turf wars. Do y'all actually believe their reports on what's happening was legit? Of course not. Caitlyn made her decisions based on those false reports that she didn't even give two fucks about bc she was still too focused on tracking Jinx. That's why when she started to really see what was going on and questions Ambessa, Ambessa quickly pulls the "mom" card to push Caitlyn back into her web.

Sure, she was still powerful and privileged but she wasn't in full control. And the fact that a lot of the fandom dismisses Ambessa's manipulation shows how good at that she is.

5. Vi choose to have sex instead of helping her suicidal sister

Vi DOESN'T watch Arcane. She doesn't know how bad Jinx was and mind you, last time Jinx was acting weird she blew up things instead of being suicidal. We, the Audience, watch her whole journey and change. Vi only stayed with her for a short period of time and she was in a coma for days. She doesn't know what happened after Isha sacrificed and how much this affected Jinx.

"breaking the cycle" could mean a lot of things and if you listen to her words when Caitlyn arrives, you can see that she clearly thinks Jinx is out there abt to blow something. She is blaming herself for believing in Jinx change of heart and not sad for her being suicidal, this prob actually never crossed Vi's mind.

6. CaitVi was forced

I can't with this ""argument"" CaitVi is the couple that has been built since s1 😭. I take that sometimes they were toxic (like when Cait hit Vi) but to say they were forced...please use it 🧠

7. Silco was a revolutionary and a good father do Jinx

Sure, in the past. There's nothing glorious or revolutionary in running a cartel, having business with corrupted cops and child labor. "But he was getting money to his revolution" my ass. He spent 7y doing nothing but becoming more and more powerful while Zaun became like the Pride Lands when Scar took over. He only gets back to his revolutionary ideas when Jinx stole the Hextech gem.

His beautiful speech doesn't match his horrible actions.

The fact that so many ppl see him as this perfect father figure, is the reason so many ppl so easily fall into abusive relationships. Yes, he took care of her but at the same time, he isolated Jinx from her sister , fed her paranoia and instigated her violence tendencies. And it's so clear bc the moment he was no longer in her life, she started to get better in her mental health.

Anyway to finish this long ass post lmao, I want to say that you are free to dislike and hate who you want and what narrative choice you want. The only thing, that ain't that hard, is be fucking honest abt it. There's no need to create bullshit expectations over your hate, ignoring the CANNON.

[sungiescheotluv]

am i the asshole? ⭑.ᐟ lee jeno

pairing: lee jeno x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.1k

tags/warnings: fluff, meet not-so-cute turned cute, (excessive) swearing, crack (if you squint - or read any of my fics really 😭)

summary: things are looking up for you - a promotion at work propels you into a new, more extravagant apartment that has all you need and more. too bad you forget to look down.

notes: hi hi, i'm back with a new fic! it's been really fun to crank out all these fics in such a short amount of time :) i usually spend a stupid amount of hours mulling over word choice and reading too much into things, which i've tried to abandon with this blog and just write whatever inspires me and makes me laugh honestly. i'm not sure if this is funny for you guys, but i enjoyed the care-free time i had writing this and hope you enjoy it the same reading it! wishing you all the best and thank you, THANK YOU for all the love on my fics! it means so so much to me 🥹💗

also, this fic wouldn't exist this prompt list from @corvase so big big thank you to them! much love! <3

If there is one word to describe Jeno, it’s doting. 

Ever since the moment you two met, you’ve been living a life of luxury. Not necessarily in terms of monetary means (except for the very pretty promise ring Jeno got you a few months back), but in more valuable, sentimental places. Someone by your side that treasures the ground you walk on, someone that makes the effort whoever big or small, someone who’s totally and utterly obsessed with you. For so long, you thought you had your head in the clouds, imagining such a love as an abstract, fictional thing. Like it could never materialise beyond the limits of your mind and yet, there it is. Three years ago, the love you’d wished for on many stars, many birthday candles - right in front of you. 

You meet in a rather…unconventional way. Nothing shady or anything, but it’s a bit of a blunder in comparison with the wholesomeness of your relationship. You’d just moved into your new apartment building, your new promotion uplifting you as the future brims bright. You’d seen it in person before getting the keys and your jaw dropped every time. Admittedly, the office assisted with most of the expenses to keep you in close vicinity of the main building, explaining the lavish skyscraper of a building. Marble floors, polished elevators, key-pad locks. To you, someone who didn’t come from much, this was the high life. A merit your family let you know you deserved for all your efforts over the years, whether it was in academic ventures or familial affairs. Either way, as you are driving through the front gate, the security guard tipping his hat at you, you’re beaming with glee - nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, could ruin your day. 

Except this.

For someone so accommodating, you lacked understanding (and patience) for what you, in a flare of anger, called ‘stupidity.’ Unfortunately for you, this is one of those moments. Pulling up to your assigned parking space (underground, might you add), your eyebrows furrow at the sight before you. There’s a car in front of you making an awkward turn, almost as if they don’t know where they’re going. Maybe they’re new like you, you reason. Your understanding drains from there, as the car goes back and forth, turning its wheels and frankly, looking like a hot mess. You try not to be an asshole, because drivers deserve some grace, especially Learners judging by the large ‘L’ on the back of their car, but just as you’re about to offer some help, you squeal.

The learner attempts to manoeuvre out the tight space it’s wedged itself into, having to reverse generously due to the sheer size of the car and in doing so, it nearly rear-ends you. If you hadn’t had the sense to put more distance between the two of you, the front of your car would’ve been mangled. This time, you honk, a slam of the hand on the steering wheel as you yell, “The fuck are you doing!”

The driver offers an apologetic hand out their window, somehow managing to squeeze into the parking spot they’d been trying very hard to get into. As grateful as you are for the stupid ordeal to be over, a pout forms on your lips as you squint at the parking spot the driver’s parked into. 

Your parking spot.

You’re out of your car before your brain registers, the slam of the car door accompanying the echo of your loud voice as you say, “That’s my parking space.” 

The driver hoops out of their car, a large grey hoodie shrouding their face as they step into view. Under the fluorescent lights of the barren car park, the stranger reveals their face, shadows enveloping the sharp edges of his high cheekbones and jawline. You nearly lurch back, because what the hell? Why is the driver you’d nearly had an aneurysm over unbelievably hot? Handsome? Cute?

At this point, you’d throw a whole dictionary full of words to describe how attractive he is, his pink lips folding into an apologetic grin, bowing to you deeply. “Is your car ok? I’m so sorry. It’s my first time driving this big ole thing - it’s the only car I could fit all my belongings in.”

Then, you see it. Items, belongings cluttering the pick-up truck, and if you really look, you’re pretty sure a pillow’s obstructing his sight from his rearview mirror. 

You exhale, a wave of sympathy drowning the fires of your annoyance. “It's fine, thanks. Just a word of advice, you shouldn’t be driving with something blocking your rearview mirror.”

Why did you have to tell him this? If he's a learner, surely he 1) knew this and 2) had someone in the car with him.

Just then, the passenger front seat opens, another figure in an oversized black hoodie coming round the vehicle. Were they-?

“Jeno, you forgot your dog treats in the-” the passenger cuts themselves off at your presence, lowering their hood to reveal another handsome face. What is this? A traveling circus of hotties? How many more were hidden in there? “Oh, hottie alert.”

Instantly no. 

In the face of a man also sculpted by the Gods, with his big brown eyes and irresistible smile, you scowl. Maybe even vomit a little in your mouth because did he just say ‘hottie alert’ about you…in front of you? 

Nevermind you calling him that first.

“You’ll have to excuse him,” the stranger - Jeno, you’re assuming - looks even more embarrassed, shuffling to shield the glaring ogling his friend does. “He’s got no filter. No sense either, now that I think about it.”

“Since when did the samoyed become the owner?” you make out his friend say, in a headlock that he forces himself out of with a bite through Jeno’s sleeve. 

Samoyed? Owner?

The longer you watch their bickering, the more confused and honestly, more annoyed you grow. A promotion and new apartment, what is meant to be an upgrade from your previously cramped but friendly neighbourhood, only to find yourself caught in the middle of a quarrel. With some themes of petplay, too, you weren’t sure.

All you know is that you’ve got a long day ahead of you, and they’re prolonging it by snatching your parking space. 

“Sorry to interrupt but,” their heads turn at the sound of your voice, having the decency to look embarrassed as you continue. “You’re parked in my space. I’m D7. So, in case there’s been a mix-up-”

“Thing is, sweetie,” Jeno’s friend addresses you, the latter hanging his head in shame. “Unfortunately, someone’s parked in our sweet Jeno’s place. We’re on a bit of a tight schedule, and your space was the only one avail-”

A car honk makes you jump, your head on a swivel, mortified to find a car behind yours, luckily trying to exit the underground space.

Now you look like the asshole.

You huff, exhausted already. “I’m gonna let this car through, and we’re going to solve this, alright?” 

They both nod, the enthusiasm that Jeno nods with earning a fond smile from his friend, Jeno’s sleazy partner ruffling his head of long black hair.

In the end, when you’ve circled back, the person parked in Jeno’s space comes out and profusely apologizes for the inconvenience, citing an emergency they had to take care of and since Jeno’s space was free and close to the building, they snagged it. So, you get your parking space back, a small victory. Jeno’s friend, who notices you’re moving in too - Jaemin is his name - offers his help, to which you politely deny, catching the pure apologetic nature in Jeno’s shiny eyes. 

Minor blunder. A small thing in the grand scheme of things, nothing worth losing your mind over.

Except when you’ve managed to heave your first few belongings to your apartment, the door next to yours opens, Jaemin’s bright smile greeting you as he says, “Oh, I’m definitely coming over to yours more often.”

So, yeah. Not that romantic - your first meeting.

Heck, even your second and third meeting isn’t too great because on one exceptional morning where you’re running late, you collide into Jeno on your way out, your possessions and fingernail flying in the air. You’re lucky your nail-bed remains unscathed, but not so lucky the days following that when you’re walking in the open courtyard of your apartment building, out for some fresh air, time to decompress for the mounting work you’re quickly submerging in.

You’ve got your headphones on, noise-cancelling ones you got for Christmas - how nice. What isn’t nice is that you miss the yell behind you, and the strange texture you step onto. Your body freezes, nose twitching from a foul smell that wafts upwards and when you gaze down to your shoe, you find the worst. The absolute worst.

Shit. Huge, putrid clumps of shit.

It’s so shocking that you slip your headphone off down to your neck, deciding between screaming or crying. Your decision is cut off by a familiar voice, yet again so apologetic.

“I forgot her bags upstairs. I didn’t think anyone would…” Jeno cuts himself off, eyebrows pinched together like he may cry. “Can I-can I do anything for you? Wash your shoe? Scream? Disappear into oblivion?”

“All of the above.”

He chuckles, the furry friend he’s accompanied by nudging their wet snout against your hand, smiling at you like there are no thoughts behind their eyes. Your eyes flicker between the dog and Jeno, the white samoyed eerily similar to his owner.

Was this what Jaemin was referring to when you first met?

“Don’t worry about her, she’s harmless,” he comments, the ghost of a grin appearing against his face. “Except when she takes a dump.”

You have to laugh. Otherwise you’ll cry. “Too soon?”

“No, no - I needed that actually,” you sigh after your fit of chuckles. “Today’s been…well, shit.”

“You don’t say,” Jeno muses, handing over the leash his dog is on. “Do you mind?”

You take it without a word, securing his furry friend as he slips off one of his shoes, bending down near the scene of the crime. Without a peep, he cleans around as best as he can, undoing your shoe and casting it aside, slipping his one on your foot.

“Well, I can’t scream because it’s non social hours,” he leads, wrapping your shoe in one of the bags. “And as much as I’d love to disappear into oblivion, I’ve got a shoe to wash.”

He then hesitates, parts his lips like he wants to say something. There’s something adorable about his loss for words, how his gaze is downturned, flicking side to side in indecision. God, all these awful run-ins robbed you of remembering how cute he is. 

“Did you want to come back to mine?” he finally asks, meeting your eyes. “So, we don’t have to drop each other’s shoes off like some fairytale.” 

“It is almost midnight,” your quick wit earns a chuckle from him, eyes moon crescent and you can’t believe your own. How tragically pitiful and handsome he is. “Why not? I’ve got no ball to be at.”

So, instead of spending your night wallowing in the darkness of your apartment, you’re next door, laughing at the failed attempts of Jaemin’s ‘flirting’ Jeno tells you with his samoyed, Ari, cuddled into your side. Once your shoe dries, that’s when you say you’ll leave - what you infamously tell yourself, picking up the bone-dry shoe hours later, belly full of Jeno’s special bowl of noodles and heart full of infatuation for your neighbour. 

Again, not so romantic. But your following run-ins prove to be a turning point, the close relationship you develop unveiling a world of romance you thought were reserved only for movies and books. Somewhere along the line, your elevator talks stretch into rambling dinner dates, rotating between your place and his depending on the meal since Ari once stole a whole steak off your plate once. You take Ari on your nightly walks Jeno accompanies you for, you meet his friends and he meets yours. You make space for each other, carving out time to spend binging the latest season of your favourite dating show or over a bowl of kimchi stew you reward him with for getting the spider out your apartment. 

It’s like your puzzle pieces come together, initially ill-matched but now, the perfect fit for one another. And even if Jaemin jokes you were a bit ‘rough around the edges’ (code for an asshole) when you’d first met, Jeno kisses the denial out of you, making sure you know how much better his (and Ari’s) life is with you in it. 

[bedfordxcx]

Keep it cool. | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Post prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Loser!Reader (I did try to make it as gender neutral as possible but I do believe some Fem slipped through the cracks.)

Synopsis: In which Loser!Reader works a case with the team, including a specific Doctor you're almost creepily in love with.

Word count: Around 2.2k

Warnings: Reader knows far too much about Spencer, mentions of death and crime scenes, I think that's it!

A/N: Introducing Loser!Reader, yippee! Although, there's not alot of the loser vibes in this (I do have a vision for the future though, comics hint hint.) Might make a vision board for you guys to see where I'm going.

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Joining the BAU is terrifying.

But for you, it isn’t the crime scenes or even the murderers. You’ve been an introvert your entire life, the sort of person who spends more time in fictional worlds than the real one. Friends? None. Social skills? Practically nonexistent. A loser in every way that counts. The very idea of interrogating suspects, chatting with local officers, or presenting your theories in front of a room full of people makes you want to curl up under your desk and pretend none of it exists.

So why do you stay?

For him.

Spencer Reid, the man who occupies every corner of your mind and whose name is scrawled obsessively across your journals. One look at him on your first day—gangly frame, untamed hair, lips that always look half a second away from darting into a fact-filled ramble—and you’re doomed. Completely and utterly bewitched.

Even the way he refuses your handshake that first day, with an explanation about pathogens, leaves you spellbound. It isn’t normal, but then again, neither are you. From that moment on, you find yourself obsessed.

You’re beyond gone.

When Spencer is sick, you swear you can feel the congestion in your own chest. When he takes time off to visit his mother, you stare at his empty desk, imagining his hands rifling through files, the ghost of his pen against paper.

Every moment revolves around him. You don’t just daydream about him; you study him. You memorize his mannerisms, his voice, the way he moves. It isn’t healthy—not by a long shot—but the more you try to pull yourself away, the more tightly you cling to the idea of him.

Now, as Hotch drones on about the case, his voice is just background noise. It isn’t important. Not compared to the gentle, rhythmic breathing coming from Spencer.

And then it happens.

The all-too-familiar snapping of fingers in front of your face, followed by Emily’s teasing voice. “Hello? Earth to Agent Daydreamer?”

Stupid Emily. Always ruining your (non-existent) moments with Spencer.

You blink slowly, your gaze drifting toward Emily as you come to.

“Hm, what?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look down at the table, avoiding her eyes.

“I... I was listening, definitely.”

You glance at Spencer, making sure to memorize the highlights of his face, the way the button of his nose sits a bit brighter than the rest of his features. You’ll definitely write about that in your journal later.

Before blinking away and staring down at the file in front of you on the table, though your cheeks are flushed from lying.

“And—I—I asked you to stop calling me Daydreamer...”

“Uh huh.”

Emily’s lips tug into a knowing smirk. There’s something almost cruel in the way she looks you over, like she knows, but you quickly shake the thought out of your head.

Get it together.

Just then, Hotch’s voice disrupts the teasing (thank god). “Wheels up in five.” You’re not surprised the team was called in to take this case. Three women, all with dark hair and petite frames strangled to death with no solid evidence linking the cases aside from the MO.

Emily nudges your shoulder. “Ready?"

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The trip is uneventful at first. Hotch briefs you on the plane, and you do your best to listen with Emily’s teasing glances and Spencer’s fidgeting hands in view. You jot down notes about the case, but most of your attention is directed toward the man across the aisle. He’s wearing a sweater-vest today, the fabric accentuating the lines of his body.

You start to wonder what it would be like to feel his frame under your hands, to trace the curve of his waist, to kiss your way up to his Adam’s apple.

Your stomach flutters as you watch him. Is it too much? Do your stares linger a little too long? Do you look like a creep when you spend hours daydreaming about the feel of his hair or his skin?

Yes, you think, you certainly do.

But you can’t stop. Not when he’s there, right in front of you, so close and yet so far away.

He looks up, glancing around as if he feels your eyes on him, and you turn quickly back to your notebook, pretending to take notes.

“Where do you think he gets his coffee?”

Emily pulls you from your thoughts, the rest of the team still discussing the case in the background. The plane is dimly lit, the soft hum of the engines creating a soothing white noise. You’ve been staring out the window, eyes locked on the setting sun while your mind worked overtime, imagining all the ways you could make Spencer love you.

JJ arches a brow. “Who?”

“Reid, idiot.”

“Oh! The, uh... the café two blocks away from Quantico—they sell coffee beans for home use as well as the, well, drinks the baristas make..." You mumble, not realizing it might be a little weird that you know such specific details about him.

Why does Spencer drink his coffee black? Is it for the taste, or is it because it keeps him sharp? Maybe it’s routine. Maybe it’s just his preference. Either way, you have that fact on a page in your journal, labelled "What Spencer Likes."

JJ laughs softly. “You think you know him that well, huh?”

But Emily just nods, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “You know, I could see it. And I bet he has a little home espresso machine, too.” She smirks, glancing over to Spencer as he continues to talk, his hands flying as his tone grows more and more passionate.

“You know how he likes his coffee?” Derek’s smile is wide, and you can see the accusations forming in his mind.

“You’re drooling, sweetheart,” Emily teases, her voice a low whisper.

You pout. “Am not.”

But despite your denial, you raise a hand to your lips to check for drool anyway.

But you aren’t drooling. No, you’re so far gone that just staring at him lights up the pleasure centers in your brain. You have pages upon pages of notes just like this, detailing Spencer’s preferences and likes from the way he takes his coffee down to what you think is his favorite color (you haven’t confirmed, you are just that good at picking up on subtleties like his tie choices and such). But your lips might as well start to water, because now you’re imagining him pulling you in close, whispering all your favorite facts into your ear.

Does he ever whisper secrets to anyone? Is he the type to fall asleep talking about his passions? These were the thoughts you had before bed the night before this case, and you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in bed with Spencer, both of your bodies tangled together as he whispered to you, lips brushing the hollow behind your ear. Would he ask how your day was? Would he press kisses onto your skin, and tell you about one of the many facts he has stored away?

These thoughts are getting out of hand.

You don’t even notice the conversation has ceased until you look up and see everyone with their eyes on you.

Oh. They’d asked a question.

It wouldn’t be out of character for you to space out like this. You’re notorious for it. But still—it’s a bad habit, one you’ve tried to kick since your undergrad.

Spencer’s brow furrows ever so slightly as Hotch speaks. “So what do you think?”

“Well, from what you were reading in the file,” Hotch presses, waiting expectantly.

Is it a good answer? A bad answer? Are you supposed to respond? “Uh... what?”

A voice pipes up. Emily.

“Maybe it’s his first time out. Just a thought,” her voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it.

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful. Spencer spends most of his time reading, his lips moving as if reciting the words under his breath. You’d do anything to be that book. You bet it smells like him.

When the plane touches down, it’s already late afternoon, and the local precinct is eager for your help.

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The first victim’s house still smells of death.

You keep your face behind your collar as the M.E. walks you and Emily through the house, describing the scene with a level of morbid detail that makes you question your career choice. Spencer follows, his eyes scanning every corner, his lips moving in quiet conversation. It might be your imagination, but he seems closer than usual, his arm brushing against yours as he leans in to whisper something about the blood pattern.

Stay calm. You’re on a case. People are dead. Focus.

After the scene tour, the team splits up. Hotch and Prentiss go to the station, Rossi and Morgan check into hotel rooms, leaving you alone with Reid.

Alone. With Reid.

Emily flashes you a wicked grin before heading out, and you make a mental note to smother her in her sleep. How dare she leave you alone with Reid and look that smug?? Just to make it worse, she winks. Ugh.

Spencer glances at you. "I don't know about you, but I always work better with caffeine in me."

⛧· ·⛧· · ───────⛧· ·☽◯☾· ·⛧─────── · ·⛧· ·⛧

The local coffee shop is relatively empty—just you and Spencer, the coffee machines hissing and gurgling in the background. You sit at a small table, a file open between the two of you, as Reid leans forward, fingers tracing the line of text.

“See the marks on her neck here,” he says, gesturing to the grisly photos. “That’s consistent with a rope or cord of some sort. But look at the angles. The depth.”

His finger travels up and across the photo, drawing your eye to the bruises.

“It’s not just strangulation.”

“It’s an odd pattern, though.” His voice has that familiar excitement to it, the kind that comes with unraveling a mystery. “It could indicate a signature, something personal to the killer. We should look into that more.”

Is his voice always this smooth? Are his lips always this pink? You’ve never seen him this closely before, at least not sober and awake.

Your gaze roams over his face, noting the way his tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip, the creases at the corners of his eyes.

Focus, focus, focus.

“And we could then link all of the victims together then.”

“Exactly!” He flashes you a grin, a real one this time, all teeth and crinkled eyes. It’s so damn cute you can barely breathe.

“Maybe he’s got a type, you know. A certain look, height—”

You can’t help but imagine Spencer pressed against your body, his breath on your neck, the rough stubble of his jaw dragging across your skin as he plants those damn perfect lips right behind your ear.

The warmth in his voice makes your stomach clench. You’re so close. If you leaned just a little bit forward, you could be kissing him. What’d he do? Would he pull back? Would he grab you and push you against the coffee counter? Would he pull your hair and bite your lips and whisper facts about how hot he thinks you are?

You can be a type.

“Mmhmm, a specific look, maybe... he wants revenge on someone who looks that way? And he’s working his way towards her. An endgame.”

The tension is almost palpable. You shift in your seat, trying to keep the air cool, to not let on how much you want him.

Spencer’s lips part slightly as he speaks, his tongue darting out to wet them. You can’t help but wonder if he tastes as good as he looks, like coffee and sugar and that je ne sais quoi that makes him… him.

You’re staring at him. You know you are. You shouldn’t be, but your eyes keep flitting between his lips, his hands, his eyes—you haven’t looked down at the file in what feels like forever.

You probably look like a creep, but you can’t help it. Every movement of his, every shift in his voice, sends a wave of warmth through your body. Maybe it’s obsession, maybe it’s hormones talking.

“The victimology might hold some clues,” he says.

“...probably, it usually does.”

“Right.”

Spencer licks his lips, his gaze lingering on the files scattered in front of you. He runs a hand through his hair, a habit you’ve noted when he’s deep in thought. If you had it your way, you’d have your fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him close as you kiss the curve of his jaw…

But for now, you’re here, in the coffee shop, trying to untangle your feelings for Spencer from the case at hand.

The smell of coffee and the hum of the evening news serve as a backdrop to your internal struggle.

Keep it cool. Keep it cool. Keep it cool.

[vettelsvee]

COME WHAT MAY SERIES Prologue (previous): A phone call and a new beginning

⋆ Hey everyone! I'm almost done writing the first part of Come What May series and, since many of you are waiting for it and, also, asking me when I'll be posting... here's the beginning of the chapter and its name! ⋆ Special tags to @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @residentdemonhunter @astronomyandfrogs @herdetectivetheorist @prttylight @i-love-sirius-black7 @dreamauri for being interested in this series <3 And of course special thanks to @maripiastri because Come What May series wouldn't exist without her 😭 ⋆ Also... let me know if you'd like me to post the chapter this week instead of next one! I'm open to suggestions, comments and questions too 🤠

"Sometimes I wonder if, besides whether I deserve everything I've achieved, I'm actually doing good enough to keep it. I mean... do I deserve my position at Red Bull, or are they just keeping me because Seb was the one who got me in, and now I'm also Mark's girlfriend? And about that last part... am I really what my boyfriend deserves, or, like dad says, is it just a passing fling of a few months where I only want to sleep with him as some sort of stress relief? Seb says that, as long as Mark makes me happy, that's what matters, but... does Mark really make me happy? Or is it..."

"I'll open the door, Dad!"

Louisa's voice, your little sister, snapped you back to reality.

Carefully, you put away the diary your best friend gave you, and your main source of therapy, in the nightstand drawer. Then, you jumped out of bed with a joy you hadn't felt in a long time.

You walked over to your desk, gently moving aside the scattered notes you still hadn't cleaned up despite having finished the semester two weeks ago. You made sure you looked as presentable as possible. Your hair, which fell over your shoulders, was perfectly straightened, though your bangs needed a little fixing. You decided to apply some lip balm as well not just to keep your lips hydrated, but to give them a little extra shine.

Then, somehow nervously for reasons you didn't want to recognize, you decided to adjust your clothes focusing on your own reflection, trying to come with positive affirmations about how everything you got was absolutely deserved.

You knew all too well that Sebastian Vettel was your best friend but, somehow, you always tried not only to look as perfect as possible in front of him, but also to let him know that you were truly worthy of his friendship.

No matter how much the German had cherished you since you both met in 2008, when you joined Toro Rosso as an intern and he was one of the team's drivers, you always had the feeling of not being for enough for him... Of not being worth to be close to him.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing your two younger sisters.

"Why are you taking so long?" Amelie, 15, asked. "It's not like your boyfriend is the one who came..."

"Yeah, yeah! Why are you extra pretty today?" the youngest, Louisa, who was 8, chimed in. "Seb is already downstairs waiting for you. He's talking to dad and uncle Hans, and I think they're talking about soccer. It's super boring."

"Shut up, would you?" the middle sister scolded the youngest, giving her a light tap on the shoulder. "Ignore her," she said to you. "What they're really doing is trying to figure out why Sebastian came over today and, more importantly, why he's staying with us for a few days. Care to explain?"

Your eyes widened because, as far as you remembered the conversation you had, Seb never mentioned anything about staying with you.

"What do you mean staying with us? Seb really said that?"

"Uncle Hans thinks he's just your friend, but dad thinks you're sleeping with him at the same time as Mark," Amelie replied.

"How could I be sleeping with Seb?!" You shouted, pulling your sisters into your bedroom and slamming the door shut. "That's... that's ridiculous. Yeah, that's what it is," you finished, trying your best not to curse and, also, trying to calm your nerves.

"But if dad says it, it must be true, Y/N," Lou said, a little annoyed. "You know dad never lies to us."

That was a lie, and you knew it perfectly. However, for her was just... the reality you made her live in since Bernhard, your dad, told the three of you he was dying from cancer.

"Listen to me, both of you," you cut in, ignoring their words. "I need you to behave and promise me something."

Amelie and Louisa exchanged curious glances before looking back at their older sister.

"I don't want you to mention anything Mark related in front of Seb. No jokes, no offhand comments about how much you dislike him... Absolutely nothing. Got it?"

"Why can't I tell Seb that I don't like Mark even it's the truth? Do I have to lie to him?" Lou asked innocently. "You always say we don't have to lie."

"Well, because..."

"If you're doubting so much it's because you really are fucking Seb. Don't get me wrong, but..."

"Amelie, watch your mouth, you're not alone!" you shouted, cursing her off while glancing at the youngest of you three.

"What does fucking mean? Does it mean you're boyfriend and girlfriend?" Louisa asked again, curious and innocent.

"Seb doesn't have a girlfriend anymore, okay?"

Your statement left the other two stunned. Louisa had really liked Hanna since she had always been nice to all of you whenever you'd met. Amelie, on the other hand, started wondering why the German driver, who had seemed so in love with his girlfriend for years, had suddenly broken up with her.

"Seb isn't with Hanna anymore?"

[meglosthegreat]

"It was fun, but it got a little boring by the end" is perhaps the most common review of Veilguard's combat that I've seen. No one seems to have strong opinions about it, overall. As far as things to have beef with this game over, it doesn't even make the shortlist, really. I mean, it was fine.

But hell, I'm not above being petty, especially when it comes to this game. So amidst all the other things wrong with this game, here's my hot take: Bioware doesn't understand RPG combat, and why it's useful in, you know, RPGs, as they ostensibly claim to make.

This didn't start with Veilguard, though Veilguard is obviously the subject of this post. It was apparent since before DAI that they were gravitating towards action combat, and I had a lot of problems with Inquisition's system at the time. But Veilguard took it even further, doubling down on their pivot away from RPG mechanics. And, well, I don't think a proper RPG system could've saved this game. But it could've given the game something it desperately lacks - replayability.

RPGs are long games, are driven by the premise that most players will not follow the exact same path towards the end, and above all, are designed to be played in as many ways as possible. This is why character classes exist; why there are multiple weapons to choose from, and why there are more party members to pick from than can fit in your party at once. This works when you consider the other hallmarks of RPGs: different story paths, dialogue choices, and romance options. Variation outside of combat compliments variation within it, and this makes a good RPG something you can play several times and have a completely different experience each time.

And more than that, the mechanics of an RPG compliment a game that could take anywhere from 80-100 hours to complete. You NEED that level of choice within the game mechanics to get you through that long a game, and Veilguard's problem is that it has the length of an RPG, but the combat system of your average 30-40 hour action game.

Of course, there are excellent action games out there that are also up in the 100-hour range, but what these games do that Veilguard did not, is put the majority of focus on their combat systems. Elden Ring is probably the best example of this, but of course we wouldn't want a Dragon Age that's like Elden Ring, really - Dragon Age needs to have more going for it than just combat. And if you can't build your whole game around its combat system, then you need something that has the longevity to sustain a 100-hour runtime.

Everyone bemoaning the lack of direct companion control is absolutely correct - their lack of damage output and usefulness compared to the player renders them basically meaningless in combat. But what this also does is make any kind of customization of their abilities or their gear next to pointless. Even if you could replay this game and build them differently - which you can't, let's be clear - doing so would not make a single iota of difference in combat.

And Rook themselves - well, consensus is that the game starts to get boring about 40 hours in. That's roughly the place where you've gotten enough skill points to specialize in one thing, and though, sure, you could theoretically refund all your points and try something else, by that time you've gotten enough points to acquire all the skills in the general tree anyway. It doesn't help that the gear system is such that whichever items you happen to get early will probably be the ones you end up sticking with. It definitely doesn't help that the enemies in this game severely lack variation, and once you've fought one dragon, you've fought them all.

You know what would have helped? Giving people multiple ways to approach combat. Giving us enemies that require a different approach. Giving us companions that you can build out in interesting ways. Giving us, in short, a reason to play this game again. Because if you're going to create an 80-100 hour game that has very little else going on mechanically, then the very least you can do is make sure your combat is actually fun for the full 100 hours.

[kyleemclauren]

"Rednote heavily censors LGBTQ+ content!" As opposed to Facebook, whose moderation polices explicitly carve out exceptions to harass trans people; or Twitter, where the word "cisgender" is considered hate speech. Gay marriage only became legal across the country in mid-2015, let's not pretend we've always been some progressive utopia.

Biden, Trump, and Obama each deported over a million people. The border internment camps still exist. Even including the million+ Uyghur Muslims in detention, China's incarceration rate is still lower than ours. We're using prison slaves to fight the California wildfires right now.

It's possible to say a bunch of things in the US, but that's not because we have great free speech. It's because our censorship works by making it difficult to talk about an issue, not impossible. Our newspapers and social media are owned by giant corporations and billionaires. Pro-Luigi content is widely suppressed, pro-Palestine content is widely suppressed, and anything more left wing than reformist capitalism is routinely suppressed. There are no privacy laws, your car is spying on you. Your phone is selling your location. Your TV is selling your watch history. Your purchase history is for sale. Your search history is for sale. Your political party registration and whether or not you voted is for sale.

In the United States schools are banning books, credit card companies are banning porn, and YouTube will take away your income if you mention suicide or swear. God help you if you play a few seconds of copyrighted music.

A counsel of nine unelected people are absolute dictators here. They gave the president absolute immunity too, for anything he can credibly claim was an official act. Congress is elected by legal gerrymandering. Police officers have nearly absolute immunity to commit crimes. Billionaires can do whatever the hell they want. I don't know where the citizen democracy is when marijuana usage is still technically a felony, despite almost 90% of the country wanting it made legal.

There isn't jack shit we get for any of this, either. Our gun laws are atrocious. Our homelessness problem is out of hand. We don't get livable cities, transit, or infrastructure. We certainly don't have health care. Our job market is trash. Our wages are trash. Our food prices are outrageous. We barely fund our schools or pay our teachers. But we spend almost a trillion dollars a year on our military! I tried for a good 20 minutes to write a followup sentence for that wasn't just incoherent swearing, and this note is the best I came up with.

All of this is the tip of the iceberg, it's corrupt all the way down and there is no set of reforms that can possibly fix it. It needs to be torn down, and built again from scratch. There is no alternative, all we are going through is pointless suffering so billionaires can get richer. How long are we going to wait!? What signs are we looking for that something needs to change? How much more obviously broken does the system need to be before people are ready to leave?

We are in an abusive relationship, and we need to get out, now. China will keep my data safe from the US government, I'm damn sure of that.

[ikibli]

Halfa Barry Allen

So, I know we all know and love Halfa Jason Todd, and that’s good and all- but we’re forgetting the one hero who also got his powers from a lab accident involving electricity- Barry Allen.

Here, quickly compare their origin stories. First, Barry's, from Showcase #4:

Now, Danny's, from the show's opening.

You see the similarities? The electrocution, the mysterious lack of injuries, the laboratory setting?

As if that wasn't enough, the narration also describes the nature of their new powers the same way- as "molecules being rearranged". (Relevant lines circled in red.)

I will also give you this one panel from Flash #270(1959), where Barry phases through pavement:

And a shot of Danny phasing through a wall:

Barry can phase through objects and uses that ability almost as naturally and fluidly as Danny does- and in ways that simple "vibration" doesn't really explain. Going through a wall, sure. Ducking under a road and coming back up a few feet forward without falling through the planet- well, that's something a ghost could do, easy, but not someone who's just temporarily pretending a certain material doesn't exist.

Yes, Danny did die in a ghost portal in a haunted town- but the lightning storm over Central City that day was in no way natural, and the lightning bolt itself was literally the ghost of his future self. (Long story, and mostly irrelevant.)

Also, this panel(from a different book: Secret Origins Annual #2) literally has Barry think "I'm only human! I won't survive!":

Yeah. You can't unsee it now, can you?

[amkyor]

S. TODOROKI SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Shoto Todoroki is out around the city on patrol duty. While on patrol, he meets a cheerful little girl who, like him, has a mark over her left eye.

Note: This story was inspired by a video of a little girl with a birthmark seeing a Todoroki plushie. ☆Inspo Link Here☆ Also, Part 22 of my adult Bakugo fanfiction is out now!! If you are a fan of my writing and Bakugo, then I'm sure you will love my story!!

Matching Marks:

The city was alive with its usual evening hum—a symphony of car engines, muffled conversations, and the distant buzz of neon lights flickering to life as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

Todoroki Shoto walked along the sidewalk, his hero costume neatly in place, his heterochromatic eyes scanning his surroundings with a calm, practiced vigilance.

The fiery orange hues of the setting sun reflected off the glass buildings, casting long shadows that stretched across the pavement.

Todoroki, as always, moved with an air of quiet authority, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

Though he didn’t mind patrols, he couldn’t deny the monotony of walking the same streets, waiting for his shift to end.

He turned a corner, his gaze drifting toward the horizon where the sun was melting into the skyline, painting the city in a warm, golden glow.

The peacefulness of the moment wasn’t lost on him.

These quiet evenings reminded him of why he became a hero—not just to fight villains but to ensure moments like these could exist for others.

About fifty feet away, a mother cradled her young daughter in her arms, her steps slow and deliberate.

The little girl had her face buried in her mother’s shoulder, her small hands clutching tightly at the fabric of her mom’s coat.

“Sweetheart,” the mother said softly, her voice warm and comforting.

She adjusted her grip on her daughter, patting her back lightly. “I know you’re disappointed, but we’ve been searching for an hour. Maybe next time, okay?”

The little girl shifted slightly but didn’t lift her head.

Her voice was muffled but carried a clear note of sadness. “But I really wanted to see him, Mama...”

The mother gave her daughter a sympathetic smile, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I know, baby. I know. You’ve been so excited all week.”

The little girl’s shoulders slumped, and she let out a quiet sigh. “It’s not fair. What if I don’t ever get to meet him?”

The mother stopped walking for a moment, hugging her daughter a little tighter.

“You will, honey. I promise. He’s a hero—he’s always out here helping people. We just have to be patient.”

The little girl nodded slowly, though her disappointment was still evident.

The mother resumed walking, her gaze scanning the street ahead as she tried to think of a way to cheer her daughter up.

Neither the mother nor Todoroki noticed each other at first.

He continued his steady pace, his mind half on his patrol route and half on the fleeting beauty of the evening.

The mother, focused on comforting her daughter, didn’t see him either—until she lifted her head to glance ahead.

And there he was.

Shoto Todoroki, the Pro Hero, walking calmly down the same sidewalk they were on.

The golden light of the setting sun caught the stark contrast of his red-and-white hair, making him stand out even more than usual.

His expression was neutral but approachable, his posture relaxed, and his presence radiated the quiet confidence that made him so beloved.

The mother froze mid-step, her eyes widening in disbelief.

She instinctively tightened her hold on her daughter, her heart skipping a beat as she realized who was just a few strides away.

“Oh my god,” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the city sounds.

Her lips parted in a small, stunned smile as she turned her head slightly to glance at her daughter, who was still nestled against her.

“Honey,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the excitement bubbling up inside her. “Sweetheart, look up.”

The little girl stirred, her small hands loosening their grip on her mom’s coat.

The mother’s smile grew as she whispered, “He’s here.”

The little girl stirred at her mother’s gentle insistence, slowly lifting her head from the crook of her mom's shoulder.

Her small, sleepy eyes blinked as she turned to look ahead.

There, just a few steps away, stood Pro Hero Shoto Todoroki.

Her breath hitched, and her expression transformed in an instant.

A radiant smile spread across her face, her tiny, chubby cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

Her eyes, wide with wonder, sparkled like stars as they locked onto Todoroki.

“It’s him,” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement.

Her stubby little hands pressed eagerly against her mother’s shoulder, trying to lift herself higher for a better view.

The big, brown birthmark over her left eye crinkled adorably as her smile grew impossibly wider.

Her mother couldn’t help but chuckle softly at her daughter’s sudden burst of energy. “Yes, sweetheart, it’s him!”

That was all the encouragement the girl needed.

She began to wiggle in her mother’s arms, her legs kicking in anticipation. “Put me down, Mama! Please, please, please!”

“Alright, alright,” her mother laughed, carefully lowering her to the ground.

As soon as her little sneakers touched the pavement, the girl bolted forward, her small legs pumping as fast as they could.

Her giggles filled the air as she ran, her arms flailing slightly in her excitement.

“Shoto!” she called out, her voice high-pitched but full of determination.

Her mother followed closely behind, her pace quicker now as she kept an eye on her daughter.

“Wait for me, sweetheart!” she called, though she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her child’s joy.

The little girl didn’t stop, her giggles growing louder with each step as she closed the distance between herself and the hero she admired so deeply.

---

Todoroki walked at his usual pace, his gaze idly scanning the streets as the golden light of sunset bathed everything around him.

The city was peaceful tonight, the hum of life a comforting backdrop.

But as he turned a corner, a high-pitched, excited voice broke through the ambient noise, calling his name with such joy that it caught his attention immediately.

“Shoto Todoroki!”

He stopped in his tracks, his head swiveling toward the sound.

At first, his eyes landed on a small blur of movement—a child running toward him, her tiny legs carrying her with all the determination and excitement her little body could muster.

Just behind her, a woman, presumably her mother, followed closely, a warm smile on her face as she called after her daughter.

Todoroki blinked, his expression shifting from neutral to one of disbelief as the girl approached.

She was tiny, probably no more than five years old, and adorable in the way only children could be.

What struck him most was the large, brown birthmark that adorned her face, just over her left eye.

His breath caught for a moment. The mark was different from his, of course—it carried no scars, no painful memories—but there was something about seeing it on her bright, smiling face that made his heart ache in the best possible way.

For a second, he stood there frozen, his heterochromatic eyes wide as he tried to process the overwhelming wholesomeness of the moment.

The little girl, with her chubby cheeks flushed pink and her giggles filling the air, was running toward him like he was the most important person in the world.

His disbelief melted into something much softer, a warmth spreading through his chest as a rare, genuine smile stretched across his face.

It wasn’t the polite, reserved smile he usually offered in public—it was wide and full of unrestrained joy.

As she got closer, he bent down to her level, his arms opening wide in a welcoming embrace as he smiled warly as her.

The girl’s laughter grew louder as she reached him, her tiny arms outstretched.

She practically threw herself into his embrace, landing against his chest with a soft thud.

Todoroki caught her easily, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame in a hug that was as protective as it was heartfelt.

Her giggles muffled against his chest as she buried her face there, her stubby little arms squeezing around his neck.

“I found you!” she said, her voice muffled but brimming with happiness.

Todoroki chuckled softly, his hand gently patting her back. "You found me.”

The girl’s mother came to a stop a few steps away, crossing her arms as she smiled warmly at the scene before her.

“Is he cutie too?” she teased, her tone playful as she shifted her weight onto one foot.

The little girl, still nestled in Todoroki’s embrace, pulled back just enough to look at him.

Her tiny hands cupped her own cheeks, her expression of picture admiration as her eyes sparkled with delight.

“Very cutie!” she exclaimed, her cheeks turning an even brighter shade of pink.

The little girl stepped back slightly, her cheeks still a rosy pink and her excitement as bright as ever.

Her tiny hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, but her wide grin never wavered.

Todoroki straightened just a little, still crouched at her level, his gaze soft as he watched her.

Her mother walked closer, her presence calm and full of warmth.

She placed a hand on her hip and giggled, her eyes glancing between Todoroki and her daughter.

“She really wanted to meet you,” the woman said, her smile growing.

Todoroki tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile in return. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice gentle but curious.

His eyes flicked to the girl, who was nodding enthusiastically.

“Yeah,” her mother said with a chuckle.

“Sweetie, why don’t you tell him what you told me earlier?” She leaned down slightly, brushing a strand of hair from her daughter’s face.

“You know, how you said he was cool?”

The girl’s face lit up even more, if that was possible.

She clapped her hands together before pointing at Todoroki with both index fingers, her excitement bubbling over. “Yeah! Because he has white hair and red hair!”

Todoroki blinked, momentarily surprised by the straightforwardness of her statement, before letting out a soft chuckle.

“White and red, huh?” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

The girl stepped closer, her small hands reaching out toward him with curiosity.

“It’s sooo cool!” she declared, her voice filled with awe.

Todoroki leaned his head down slightly, making it easier for her to reach. “You really think so?”

“Uh-huh!” she replied, her fingers carefully grabbing a strand of his red hair and then switching to a piece of the white.

She ran her fingers through them gently, her touch light but deliberate.

Her mother stood back, watching the interaction with a soft smile. “See? I told you she’s a fan,” she teased lightly.

The girl, still engrossed in his hair, looked up at him with wide eyes. “And your blue eye and grey eye!” she said excitedly, pointing at his face.

“They’re so cool too!”

Todoroki’s smile softened further, his heart warming at her genuine admiration. “My eyes?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly so she could get a better look.

“You think they’re cool?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, her hands now cupping her own cheeks as she grinned at him. “Super cool!”

The mother watched the scene unfold with a soft smile, the warmth in her eyes reflecting the golden glow of the setting sun.

She tilted her head playfully and asked her daughter, “Anything else you think is cool about him, sweetheart?”

The little girl’s eyes sparkled, and she gasped as if the question had unlocked the most exciting thought in her mind.

She placed her hand over her left cheek where her birthmark rested and beamed.

“And he has a birthmark like me!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable.

Todoroki’s expression softened further, her words tugging at his heart in a way few things ever had.

For a moment, he just looked at her, the corners of his mouth lifting into a warm, genuine smile.

The way her small face lit up, framed by the golden light of the evening, was like a picture-perfect moment he didn’t want to forget.

“He does!” the mother added with a gentle laugh. She knelt behind her daughter and placed her hands on her tiny shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. “You two match!”

“So he matches me!” the girl echoed, turning her bright gaze back to Todoroki with a grin that could rival the sun itself.

Todoroki chuckled softly, a rare, genuine sound that seemed to surprise even him.

“I guess we do,” he said, his tone warm and kind.

Without hesitation, the girl stepped closer, her small hands reaching out curiously toward his face.

Todoroki leaned down further, his knees bending to meet her at eye level.

“Do you want to see it?” he asked gently, his voice soothing.

The girl nodded eagerly, her tiny hands fidgeting with anticipation.

Todoroki reached out and carefully guided one of her hands to the scar over his left eye.

Her chubby fingers brushed against the raised skin, her touch soft and full of wonder.

She squealed in delight, giggling as she explored the scar with her tiny hand.

“It’s real!” she said, her voice filled with amazement.

Todoroki smiled wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It is,” he said, his tone light and affectionate.

The girl giggled again, her other hand instinctively moving to touch her own birthmark as if comparing the two.

“We really do match!” she declared, her excitement bubbling over.

Todoroki leaned slightly into her touch, his own hand gently resting over hers.

“We do,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet sincerity.

The mother watched the interaction with a smile that spoke of both pride and tenderness. “See, sweetheart?” she said, giving her daughter’s shoulders another gentle squeeze.

“I told you he’d be just as nice as you imagined.”

The little girl nodded vigorously, her giggles filling the air as she continued to trace the edges of Todoroki’s scar with her tiny fingers.

“You’re the coolest hero ever!” she declared, her voice bright with conviction.

Todoroki chuckled again, his heart swelling at her words. “Thank you,” he said, his tone warm and genuine.

“But I think you might be the coolest one here.”

---

As the sun began to dip behind the horizon, Shoto Todoroki found himself caught in a rare moment of pure joy.

Meeting the little girl, who had shared so much warmth and innocence, filled him with a sense of wholesomeness he hadn’t expected.

The girl, with her bright smile and the undeniable bond they shared through their marks, left an imprint on his heart.

Her unfiltered admiration, the excitement in her eyes, and her gentle curiosity had melted the walls he had carefully built around himself.

For the first time in a long while, Todoroki felt a deep connection to someone, one that was simple yet profound.

It reminded him of the power of genuine affection and the joy that comes from unexpected moments.

As the interaction continued, the little girl’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he realized how rare it was to feel so carefree, so present.

Her excitement, her innocent admiration, and her genuine affection for him as a hero had warmed him more than he could express.

The moment felt like a reflection of something he had been missing—a reminder of the little joys in life that often go unnoticed.

As the day drew to a close, the mother suggested a photo, and the little girl eagerly agreed.

Todoroki, still smiling, lifted the girl onto his broad shoulder, her giggles filling the air as she perched there triumphantly.

The mother took out her phone, capturing the moment—a picture of the hero and the little girl, both smiling brightly, surrounded by the soft glow of the evening sky.

With the photo taken, Todoroki’s smile lingered, and he felt an unexpected sense of fulfillment.

It wasn’t just about being a pro hero—it was about moments like these, where the simple, small interactions with others could leave such an everlasting impression.

The little girl beamed down at him, and he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this heartfelt encounter.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

Part 22 of my adult Bakugo fanfiction is out now!! If you are a fan of my writing and Bakugo, then I'm sure you will love my story!!

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[utilitycaster]

Hi!

Outside of the obvious issues within the Campaign, One point i haven't seen talked about was how 4sD wasn't really a good way to find out why characters did certain thing or thought a certain way, the what the fuck is up with that section was the closest because the players and Dani would talk and ask eachother, though i believe that they also do that outside of the game, or talked about it on cooldown, but the questions selected for the tower of the deep dive often leaned into a fanfic-y narratives (mostly Tower, but sure i guess we need to know what their favourite ice cream flavors would be, for fun i guess)

I think cooldown is the closest to what i would have rather liked from 4sD but that's behind a paywall.

Do you think the format affected the way the audience engaged with the characters? or would it be like with Molly in C2 where Tal said that he was absolutely not a good guy but the critters insisted he was just misunderstood and actually a saint (hyperbole)

Hi anon,

4SD definitely impacted how people engaged with the characters, but if it hadn't existed the sort of person who cherrypicks out of context lines from 4SD would have just made things up whole cloth to support whatever they wanted a la Campaign 2. I also don't think 4SD is like, a problem. I agree there were flaws in the format, but also...I didn't ever watch Talks for Vox Machina (I did for Campaign 2 but as I binge-watched C1 I didn't have time and I didn't bother) and I understood the story just fine. I think that if you need a talkback shows to understand a character's motivations, either that is a flaw of the text for not showing them, or you are a stupid person. A great example is Bowlgate: Talks addressed explicitly why this conflict happened, but if you had, perhaps, watched the show, you would already know that Caleb had issues with abuses of power and massive problems with trust that often manifested as control issues, and Beau had control issues from the opposite direction that were no less explained by her past, and they understandably clashed, and while I personally agreed with Beau's assessment here neither of them expressed themselves very well, and it was a great moment of conflict in a game where conflict is interesting, and I also at no point was like "oh my god Liam and Marisha hate each other" because I understand the concept of acting. I actually, as someone avoiding the fandom at the time but watching Talks each week, was stunned to hear this had even been a controversy when I tuned in.

I think there are two much bigger factors in how the fandom engages:

social media and especially algorithmic short-form social media creating echo chambers. Like, obviously I am biased but I think the reason why so many of the most rancid and incorrect opinions from this campaign are from Twitter and so many of the most rancid and incorrect people are as well is that on Twitter, saying buzzwords tends to get eyes on your post, and it's all very short so you don't have to explain yourself, and it's based on instant gratification and if you say something stupid in the past it's easier for people to move on because it's hard to find, whereas like, on Tumblr, people have longer memories and if someone doesn't explain themselves they can't point to a character limit. I think without like, Twitter, bowlgate would have been much smaller a phenomenon. I think a major flaw of 4SD is that they've addressed things brought up on Twitter that aren't even a controversy but are actually just incredibly fucking stupid (Relvin not saying the exact words "I love you" is the one I'm remembering off the top of my head but this has been a problem for a WHILE).

The biggest one: I have mentioned blorbo-centric morality and you alluded to how people thought Molly was a saint and I just think for whatever reason Campaign 3 attracted a MASSIVE number of people like that. 4SD doesn't even enter here; if it exists they'll use it but if not they'll again make shit up or cherry pick or misinterpret. The core of all C3 discourse, at this point, is that some people will defend literally anything Bells Hells do no matter what. This is why you are seeing people who insisted the gods were, as someone said, tall kings who needed to be dethroned (killed) and were colonizers and murderers suddenly pivot praising a plan that lets them live and oh how compassionate Bells Hells are. You got people who defended indecision on this topic earlier; who said there were no good options but were too squeamish to actually explore that if their are no good options their darling little angels will get their hands dirty no matter what. The No Agency crowd. It's utterly spineless and amoral; they will abandon whatever argument they had to pivot to the aimless whims of Bells Hells. So 4SD gives them more material in their endless pivoting but they'd do this anyway.

So the format was like, fun as a hangout show but not great as a talkback at times, but it really wasn't a major factor because idiots are gonna be stupid no matter what. With that said while there were things about 4SD I liked I kind of wish they could go back to a more Talks-esque format, obviously with like, a better host. I also think that it might be better to permit fan-submitted questions in real time and air the episodes a few months later, particularly since as mentioned the crew often asked questions from a while ago. I also think doing this as a big thing monthly might be easier on the schedule but meant that we heard a LOT from cast members who were frequently available even if if their characters weren't doing much that was interesting. I would ideally like to go to like, every other week, shorter and more casual, with fan-submissions through a web form collected during the week following an episode so that like. we wouldn't get Talkback Show For 119 for maybe a month but it would actually be about that.