#that last one is still so low res but it’s better than what I started with

[thegentlesurvive]

Taylor Swift at a fundraiser, April 27, 2024

[parkerluvsu]

Heyyyyyy i loved your " PonyBoy " fic even though i hoped there will be some smut in it but can you pleaaaaaase do first time with cowboy bf Art 🧎‍♀️

omg yes you can!! im so sorry im definitely better at writing smut in a shorter fic than a longer one 😭

BED CHEM (cowboy! art donaldson x virgin! fem! reader)

art donaldson is a gentleman, truly. he pulls out chairs before you sit on them, he opens your car door for you, and carries you when your feet hurt from walking in heels all night. yes, art donaldson is a gentleman, but he's still a man. he can't stop himself from gazing a little too long at your thighs when you wear a short skirt, or your breasts when you're leaning over the table to point at something. little does he know, you're wearing these short skirts and low cut tops on purpose, you wanna see him crack, to shed that polite shell and do what he wants with you.

art is taking you out tonight, he surprised you with tickets to see a movie at the drive-in theatre in town. as you're swiping on shiny lip gloss in the mirror you decide that tonight will be the night. youve asked him to take your virginity before, practically begged him to, but he always says the same thing, "i wouldn't want you to regret it" it makes you angry, honestly, how could you regret having your first time with the best boyfriend you've ever had! you went shopping especially for tonight, hiding the blush on your face as you checked out with a set of baby blue panties, with lace trim around the edges. lost in your thoughts, you hardly notice the honk coming from outside, signaling that art is here. giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you hop down the stairs, grabbing keys and a bag before exiting your house, waving to art, who's sitting in his beaten up pickup truck. you can't help but giggle a little bit when his mouth drops open at the sight of you wearing less than he's probably ever seen you wear. getting into the car, you give him a quick peck on the cheek, art starts the car and you're on your way. as usual, arts hand finds its way to your thigh as he drives, his thumb slowly rubbing it side to side. "darlin' i-is that dress new?" you can tell arts nervous about asking, not wanting to offend you. "yeah sort of, i just haven't worn it yet. you like it?" you ask, knowing he does like it, you can tell by the way his eyes flick down every couple seconds to look at your exposed skin. he chuckles, nodding quickly as he turns into the outdoor movie theater parking lot. when he stops, you turn to art, subtly moving your arms to press your breasts together. batting your eyelashes, you ask, "art, baby would you grab me a soda from the concessions stand?" art has to tear his eyes away from your chest to answer, "'course sweetheart, be back in a minute" he exits the car, shutting the door and walking off.

now that he's gone, you can work on your plan even more, adjusting your bra to push up your breasts more, shimmying your skirt up to expose more of your legs, and pulling down a mirror to re-apply your shiny lip-gloss. taking a deep breath, you wait for art to return. when he gets back you smile sweetly at him, taking your drink and sucking on the straw and making eye contact with him. you don't see it, but art has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, your suggestive actions making him break out in a sweat just from the effort to not jump your bones in this shitty drive in parking lot.

both you and art feel like the cheesy 90 minute movie is taking about 3 hours, for you, youre waiting for art to make a move, or at least signal that hes open to your obvious advances. for art, hes running scenario after scenario in his head, what could go right, what could go wrong, and everything in between. when the movie finally ends, art drives you home in silence, both of you trying to find something to say. stopping in front of your house he turns toward you, opening his mouth to say something before you interrupt him, "will you come inside?" art shuts his mouth quickly and nods, letting his cowboy hat fall in front of his flushed face.

walking up the steps to your door, art follows close behind you, bowing his head when he gets through the door. it's hard to the describe the feeling you get when youre walking towards your bedroom with art, hes been here before but this time feels different. sitting on the edge of your creaky bed, art makes the first move, cupping your face with his larger hand and pressing his mouth to yours, handling you soft and sweet, like he knows you deserve. he has to stop himself from groaning into your mouth when you move his hat off of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. art pulls you closer, his hands on your waist, lightly squeezing. the kiss turns more heated, and to your delight, art seems more accepting of the change of pace than he was in times before, the farthest you've gone was lightly grinding over his worn jeans. without taking his mouth off of yours, art moves you onto his lap, one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady, and the other one cupping your face gently. you have to pull away first, as much as you'd like to keep kissing him you don't want to suffocate. opening your eyes and pulling away you're able to see the cute flush on arts face, his pupils dialated and his hair messy. "i wanna keep going art.. please, ive asked you before" you don't want to sound desperate, but you are, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense. you can tell that arts mulling it over in his head, biting his lip.

"alright darlin' you trust me yeah? you have to tell me if you dont want me to do something, promis me, won't you?" he asks, the hand on your back rubbing up and down. you nod eagerly, "i promise art" art smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, this times with more passion than before, now knowing that you want everything he can give you. leaning into him, you undo the buttons on arts shirt quickly, helping him take it off of his shoulders. you run your hands down his chest, smiling into the kiss when he shivers. arts hands, callused from his work as a cowboy, dip under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and over your shoulders. art attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks in his wake that you're sure will be hard to cover. under the guise of kissing your neck, arts expert hands undo the clasp of your bra, removing it from your chest. youre lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, arts lips moving against your chest. you try to reach down and undo arts belt, but it's proving more difficult than you thought. art, luckily knows what youre trying to do, moving you off of his lap and placing you gently against your pillows, kneeling between your spread legs.

arts mouth is against yours once again, you hear the clunk of his belt against the floor and you smile, letting him kiss his way down your stomach. art looks up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes meeting yours, "if you wanna go further i gotta prep you first, alright darlin'?" you nod, letting him slip off your skirt. in your haste, you had forgotten the special panties you were wearing just for him, but arts soft gasp against you brings you back to earth. he slips off your panties quickly as well, and you're almost offended that he didn't admire them more, until you notice him sticking them into his back pocket, the blue lace peeking out. art rubs a finger up and down your slick folds, his mouth coming to press a kiss on your clit, causing your hand to fly down to grip onto his hair. you feel him grin against you, before putting his mouth to work, pressing as close as he can to you. the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers startles you, causing you to clench tightly around him. he sighs onto you, the breath of warm air intensifying the feeling even more. "fuck sweetheart you gotta relax more for me, or else im never gonna fit in here.." he practically groans against you. you nod, letting your head flop against the pillow behind you, letting his thumb rub quick circles on your clit, distracting you from the stretch of another finger inside of you. you have to resist the urge to shut your thighs around arts head when he scissors his fingers inside of you, the feeling getting closer and closer to the pleasure you feel when you're alone in bed.

suddenly, you're ripped out of the clouds of pleasure when art takes his fingers out of you, making his way back up your body. he kisses your forehead, looking at you softly. "you have a condom right? i want you to be safe the first time" you nod, reaching into your bedside drawer for the box of condoms you got for this very occasion. he takes one from you, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. he hovers over you again, pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your wide eyes when you look down and see his size. he taps your cheek gently, "focus on me, okay? i promise ill take care of you darlin'" you nod, letting him press his tip into you. art sees the grimace on your face and pauses, letting you adjust. when he sees you've relaxed he starts again, repeating the cycle until he's fully pressed into you. now its your turn to tap him on the cheek, letting him know that he can start to move. arts eyes flutter closed, pulling his hips out slowly before thrusting back into you, pushing out moan after moan from you, his dick reaching spots your fingers never could. arts thrusts are languid and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of his when he pushes back into you. art almost looses his mind when you wrap your legs around his hips, making sure he isnt going anywhere. art can tell you're close, the way your moans are getting louder and louder in his ear, and the way you're pulsing around him. "i- im close art" you manage to get the words out between moans. art nods, speeding up his thrusts to meet your needs. "alright sweetheart.. it's okay, it's okay, fuck, im close too" he groans out, his hips starting to stutter. lucky for art, you cum first, he thinks the guilt of cumming before you on your first time would eat him alive. he kisses you through your orgasm, swallowing your moans of his name as he gives you a few last thrusts before he's tumbling over the edge right after you. art lets you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out, throwing away the condom and laying down next to you. after you catch your breath, you lay your head on arts chest, the steady beat of his heart calming your own. his hand comes to hold yours, squeezing it gently. "you did real good for your first time darlin'" you smile, grateful for the praise from him. you reach over the bed, grabbing his cowboy hat and putting it on. "next time ill be on top okay? i wanna be a cowgirl" you giggle, winking at him. he laughs and shakes his head, rubbing your back. "you don't even know what youre getting yourself into sweetheart.." <3

[transmechanicus]

this is. probably a very personal question.

Is it worth it? Transitioning? In spite of it all?

Completely, utterly, and absolutely. I’m one of those ppl who knew i was trans since i was like 8. I found out when i was probably 13/14 what transgender meant, but recoiled from it because i could not imagine a world that would accept me or where i would be happy with the result. At 15 i met my first other trans person, and they became my friend and partner and the first person to ever know i was trans. Being around them, known by them, was such a colossal psychological relief and source of joy unlike anything i had known before. It made separating from them after graduation all the more excruciating to lose that one person i had trusted with that truth.

Sometime over the next two years i came out to my Mom, but nothing really changed, and i had more or less resolved to rot and die under the identity i had been born into. I let my undergrad studies chew me up, neglected all but the most necessary body maintenance, and spent every moment outside work or class buried in video games or books. At some point something snapped out of place, or perhaps back into place. I knew i didn’t want to die like this. I wanted something more for my life and my flesh than being a half dead servitor stocking yogurt. I wanted to transition, and however slowly, however long it took, that’s what i resolved to do.

It took a while. I had no real finances, no privacy, and little independence. I was coming from a white low-self-expression, high-control household. I “messed up” while base coating warhammer models one time and gave myself black nails. My dad berated me about it for days before trying to pin my hands down and sand the paint off (didn’t work, thank you automotive primer). When i was ~22 i got my ears pierced, basically the first permanent part of my transition, and i had never known as much joy as i did driving home knowing the pain was a step of permanent progress. Around this time 2019/2020 i started being out online, more vocal about being transgender as opposed to just having a relatively inexpressive fandom blog with no info beyond my name.

When i was 24, two years ago i came out to my dad, and a week later i left for grad school halfway across the country. I had an apartment all to myself, and my own source of income. I spent my spare change building up a wardrobe of new clothes that i actually liked. I got my first year of grad school done mostly without anything remarkable. Went to some queer events at my school. Found a partner. Got loved to bits for a while. Re-came out to my parents over the summer, and this time it stuck. Started HRT that fall, 2023. Came out to my classmates and coworkers and was rewarded with support and acceptance. Lost the partner. Devastated. Resolve to get even hotter and cooler. Smash out 3 piercings and a tattoo inside a week. Develop personal fashion sense. Attend research conference. Get better at makeup. Go to some concerts. Increase HRT. Tiddy Arc. Buy bra with a supportive bestie. Start weekly therapy. Increase HRT. Cosplay at a major convention. Schedule another tattoo. More HRT. Bra no longer optional. Present day. Tattoo on Wednesday. 90% of progress packed into the last year or so. Undeniably hotter, happier, and more self-expressive than anything in the last 24 years prior.

Transitioning is more than worth it, it brings me so much relief and joy every day no matter how shitty my day is otherwise, and while i have known doubt, i have never for an instant known regret.

There is still time🖤🏳️‍⚧️💕

[sai-int]

my eyes were shutting on themselves while trying to write a 10 paged essay so here's some poly141 x reader

it had been months since they’d left. months of quiet nights, cold mornings with no one to warm the bed, and way too much time spent wishing they were home. the house felt empty without them, but tonight? tonight, you were tired of moping.

you turned up the music so loud the neighbors were probably judging you, poured yourself a drink... and another... and another... and before you knew it, you were throwing yourself a one-woman dance party in the kitchen. in nothing but one of john's shirts and a pair of panties, you spun, swayed, and held a stadium-worthy (arguable) concert like no one was watching because, as far as you knew, no one was.

but, oh, you were wrong.

the front door creaked open, and there they were: price, kyle, johnny, and simon, all standing in the entryway, still in their tactical gear, sweaty, dirty, and frozen in place as they took in the sight of you mid-spin. johnny was the first to break, letting out a sharp laugh. “steamin' jesus... what th' hell 're w' walkin’ intae?”

you stopped dead, wide-eyed, your fourth drink of the night sloshing around in its cup. “oh my god- you’re all home?”

“we’re home,” price confirmed as they all stepped deeper into the house, his voice deep and warm, and then he gave you that soft, adoring smile. “looks like we’ve interrupted something, boys.”

“my dance party,” you corrected, setting your drink down on the counter and rushing to toward them. “and you’re not interrupting, you’re joining.”

johnny grinned wide, already stripping off his gear. “ye dinnae have tae tell me twice, lass.”

“you’re serious?” kyle asked, raising an eyebrow as you grabbed his hand and dragged him into the middle of the room. “we just got home.”

“exactly! no better way to celebrate.” you shot him a look over your shoulder, swaying your hips to the beat as you pulled him along.

price shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he started pulling off his boots and placing them in the foyer. “bloody hell. simon, you in?”

simon slipped off the last of his gear—mask included—and stayed leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with those dark eyes. “someone’s gotta keep an eye on 'er,” he said, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

you rolled your eyes, stepping over to him. “you just don't wanna dance, si. no brooding in the corner tonight, lieutenant.”

“brooding?” he repeated, his tone almost amused. “'m not brooding, i just don't want to blind the lot o' you with my moves.”

you laughed, grabbing his hands and pulling him toward the others. the music shifted and became sultrier, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in all of them—johnny’s in front of you, grinding his crotch into your lower stomach, kyle’s hands are brushing your waist, price’s voice low in your ear as he places kisses along your neck, and simon's close behind, his body solid and grounding, his hands gripping your hips and waist as he gently presses you against his crotch.

the playful energy melted into something more charged. as their touches grew bolder, their movements more deliberate. kyle’s lips brushed your jaw, johnny’s teeth scraped against your clavicle, and price’s voice was steady as ever when he whispered, “think we’ve missed more than just your dancing, sweetheart.”

and simon? he just pulled you flush against his hard chest, your head lulling back against it as johnny and kyle laved on you like animals. simon's voice commanded your attention, even when he spoke softly. “got a lot of lost time to make up for, dove.”

safe to say, the party didn’t end in your kitchen.

mlist

[sirfrogsworth]

This was one of the first photos I took of Otis after I got my DSLR 12 years ago. I had been studying photography for months before I got that camera. I wanted to make sure I would be able to take cool pictures of my new furry pal. And while all of that study helped, I was still a novice when it came to photography. I wasn't even a photographer at that point.

Otis is the reason I picked up a camera in the first place. Perhaps you could even say my passion for photography was his gift to me.

I took this photo with a shutter speed of 1/1000 and an ISO of 500. That is a low ISO by today's standards, but on the Canon 60D that was still enough to get a little noisy. I definitely could have done 1/500 at ISO 250 and captured this moment a little cleaner. And my current lens is about 50% sharper too. But it's still a great photo and I was proud I captured it at the time.

I was good at photoshop, but I wasn't great at photo editing. I didn't realize those were two different things at the time. So adding the cape was easier than processing the RAW photo. His patch of white fur is nearly blue.

Eventually I started over and re-processed the photo and added a new cape. I had a few years of photography under my belt and I think I made some improvements.

This edit is probably one of my most shared photos of all time.

So what could I do with this photo in present day with everything I've learned in the last 12 years?

And could I do a better job at adding a cape?

I think maybe I could.

I'd like to thank donlad for inspiring me to go back and redo this photo. It was a lot of fun seeing how I've progressed. I didn't care for him claiming Otis as his own, but I feel some good came out of all of that.

I miss you, Otis.

You were always super, with or without the cape.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light in |One-shot [1]|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Dewey Riley and Fem!Reader

One-shot: A Classic Whodunit

Summary: Moving to Woodsborro was certainly not your willing decision. Change has always been hard for you, so what better way to cope than to make everyone else's life almost as miserable as yours?

Warning(s): Swearing, & mentioned family issues (?)

Notes: Finally got around to re-writing this and I definitely prefer this version. There's more Tara x Reader stuff and a little more details regarding R's past. Still based off this scene from Gilmore Girls and takes place when R just moved to town. This'll still be the last thing I'm able to post for one my stories for a bit, but I'm glad it's still something

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You continued reading from your book as you walked with your head hung low paying no mind to your surroundings, too engrossed with the words you read. That was until you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye, your brief suspicions immediately being confirmed when the person spoke. 

Dewey—who was previously leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed—began to follow you, uncrossing his arms. “Hey,” he nodded at you and you didn’t reciprocate, only turning your head to look at him briefly before turning your attention ahead of you while putting your book in your back pocket. “How was school?” Dewey immediately followed with. 

“Great,” you couldn’t help the blatant disinterest in your tone. 

“Learn anything good?” You could already tell he was amping up to something. There was a certain eagerness in his voice. An eagerness to segway into what he truly wanted to talk about. 

“Oh yeah, tons of things. I got gold stars plastered all of my forehead,” you remarked with as much sarcasm you could muster at the moment. 

“I got an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” He asked and you couldn’t care less. 

“Not really,” you answered honestly, your tone still showing anything but amusement.

“So Mr. Collier—you know he owns the local market?”

“If you say so.” 

“Said you came in today.”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked; you looked both ways before you and Dewey now walked alongside a road. 

“And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief, that he was just trying to start trouble and then I hung up on him.” Most of what Dewey was saying was going in one ear and out the other. You’ve grown good at tuning people out, intentional or not. Still Dewey continued. “Now don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy. But I was just wondering, if maybe, any of the other things were true.”

“What do you think?” You questioned with annoyance at the edge of your voice. You were starting to grow more and more impatient as he continued to yammer on. 

“I think if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true,” he elaborated.

“Okay. It’s not true.” 

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

The two of you were now on a dirt path as you stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. While one hand moved as you spoke, the other one was clenched into a fist to your side. “—Look, what exactly do you want from me? First I get forced to move here, now I’m stuck with you most of the time. I’m put in this place—now in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six-different-languages! I’m supposed to be this happy-go-lucky person after being taken away from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!” 

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy apartment. You were fine knowing the city you lived in like the back of your hand. You were fine having your best friend within walking distance. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. Your father had no right to ship you off just because he couldn’t take his precious image being ruined. He was on the verge of sending you to military school before your mom stepped in. Their marriage had been falling apart for some time but this was definitely the nail in the coffin. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his own patience was beginning to grow thin. Dewey knew about your complicated relationship with your father. He knew what led to you ending up in Woodsborro. He knew things about you before you even knew them. He just wanted to protect you, shield you from harm. Even if he knows where that has gotten him in the past.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions! Just stop!” You waved your hands in aggravation as you spoke, your temper and annoyance taking over you with each second. You were pissed and upset with every aspect of your life. Unfortunately, Dewey found himself being on the receiving end of your frustration. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s what you really want?” He wasn’t yelling but his voice grew louder with his second question to match your own tone.

“Yes,” you spoke with more conviction. 

“Fine. You got it, kid!” Dewey said as he threw his hands up.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continued walking, both of you walking tensely as you stepped onto the bridge that went over the lake that was not far from where you two were previously standing. You each refused to look at the other as you walked along the bridge. When you were halfway on the bridge, you suddenly felt yourself being shoved. In a blink of an eye, you go from standing on the bridge to standing in the lake soaking wet. You pushed your hair back to look at Dewey who was still walking with his back facing you. He didn’t pay the person he just shoved into a lake any mind. 

Great.

By the time you successfully lifted yourself up and got back on to the bridge, Dewey was gone. Nobody liked soggy socks but maybe you deserved it. Maybe. Even if you were far too stubborn to admit it. 

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He was ranting about something with his hands going up and down as he spoke angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently someone had drawn the outline of a body right outside of his store and put up caution tape. It was obviously just a prank.  If there was actually a murder, the police wouldn’t let it hit daylight. Let alone bring attention to it by drawing an outline of the body with white chalk. They weren’t living in the interwar period. But Mr. Collier refused to see this as he argued with Sheriff Hicks, eyes flickering back and forth from the sheriff and the outline as he yelled. 

“What am I supposed to do?! I have a dead body right in front of my store!” 

“No. You have a chalk outline of a dead body in front of your store,” she said as a matter of fact. “One of my guys is doing a headcount to see if anyone is missing. Until then just sit tight? This is probably just some prank done by one of the highschoolers.” She sighed before walking away from the dramatic man. 

Tara couldn’t help but laugh as she looked over at the outline again. Nothing good ever happened in Woodsborro. Other than the fact that a few murders from the 90’s are practically a part of their school curricula, it was a boring ass town. So one should never take entertainment like this for granted. 

Sheriff Hicks came back just a few minutes later and informed everyone—mainly Mr. Collier—that everyone had been accounted for and it really was just a prank. 

“But it looks so real! Where’d they get the police tape?” The man was still in disbelief if his tone was anything to go by.

“Kids have their ways,” Hicks shrugged, resting a hand on her hips. She had gone through ghostface before and even her ptsd wasn't flaring up from what was in front of her. The man needed to relax.

“Who would be depraved enough to pull a stupid prank like this?!” 

As if on cue, Tara’s eyes found you leaning against a light pole across the street as you wore a devilish smirk. It shifted into a small smile when you met her eyes. You looked away for a moment then back at her before you walked away. 

Of course it was you. This had your name plastered all over it. You might as well have been posing at the scene of the crime. She should have known better. You have been wreaking havoc from the moment you stepped into town. Nothing good ever came from that stupid smirk she’s become all too familiar with. Everything about you annoyed her to no end. There was just something she couldn't put her finger on. It was driving her insane. You were going to drive her insane. 

—

The next day, Tara returned to the market so she could fulfill her duties as the snacks retriever for tonight’s movie marathon with the others. After seeing that everything—your mess—was cleaned up and Mr. Collier was less frantic, she made her way inside the market. While inside, she bumped into Wes. They talked for a few minutes as she continued shopping. Wes was nice, but romance wise? Tara didn’t know how to feel. Wes is kind, good looking, a gentleman—what was stopping Tara from going out with him?

“I’m going to ring these up but I’ll meet you outside?” Tara said to Wes and he nodded with a smile. Tara returned it before checking out the things she bought and waited outside the store for Wes with her plastic bags full of snacks in hand. She suddenly felt a light tap on back before she turned around and saw you.

“Should you be standing around here all alone? I heard this is a pretty dangerous corner,” you teased while emphasizing the word ‘pretty’ by motioning with your hands. Tara looked at you then immediately looked away as she crossed her arms.

“I’m fine,” she said—trying in a nonchalant tone.

“Feeling succinct today?” You looked her up and down, noticing her tense demeanor.

“Pretty much.” She refused to give you anymore than that. She was not going to buckle. She was not going to fall for your witty remarks or snide comments.

“Hm,” you said while lightly nodding. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Me? No.” Now she was finally looking at you, meeting your eyes.

“Good.” 

“You might wanna ask that same question to Dewey though.”

“Meaning?” You raised your eyebrows as if you didn’t have a single clue.

From your facial expressions to your tone—how were you so unbothered? How could you be so clueless? So dense? Fuck it. Maybe she was going to buckle and fall but you were just too irritating to resist the temptation. “You’ve got this whole town coming down on him,” Tara’s voice became more defensive.

“Reeeally? How’d I do that?” You feigned a look of surprise and concern, matching your conceited tone

She was going to punch you.

“You know how you did that,” she replied because you couldn’t be that dull. You just couldn’t. 

“I’m quite familiar with the bluebook laws in this town so you’re talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm and arm with a member of the opposite sex on a Sunday,” you satirized with that vexing voice of yours.

Maybe you were that dull. Tara pointed down with both her arms at the chalk you both stood on. They were able to clean up the police tape no problem, but the chalk was going to take more elbow grease. 

You looked to where she was pointing before saying, “Ah.” You moved your feet off of the outline before continuing, “What about it?”

“You did it,” Tara said. “Everyone knows you did it. They had a meeting about it.”

“You actually go to those bizzaro town meetings?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. You shook your head, “God those things are so To Kill A Mockingbird.” 

“My friend’s mom is a sheriff, so she’s the one who went. And Dewey went. When he got there everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone,” Tara told you with no remorse.

“Wow. Bummer.”

“And he’s standing there, yelling at everyone, and defending you—now he’s a pariah for the shit you’ve caused in just a month of being here.” You looked down to the side, processing what you were just told. You wore a look Tara wasn’t able to read. “Of course you don’t care about any of this,” she rolled eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” you said. 

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” she waved you away with her hands, shooing you, before looking away.

“Fine…” You started to walk away but Tara’s frustration got the best of her and you stopped and turned back around when you heard her speak again. 

“You’re an asshole!” 

“Got a second wind, huh?” You tried to hide the displeasure you suddenly felt.

“You’re making his life hard. And for what? For your own amusement? You’re sadistic.” You could tell she had been holding that in. You also wouldn’t comment on how you found the pout she was wearing a little cute. “Second wind over.”

“I didn’t realize they were coming down so hard on him…”

“Funny, I never pegged you as clueless,” Tara remarked, annoyance still evident in her voice.

“I get it…” She gave you a look. “No no no, I do, I get it,” you lightly nodded at her. Contrary to your previous tone, your voice now held interest and understanding—and so did the look you gave her. Your eyes flickered between her and the chalk outline before asking the question that’s been in the back of your mind, “Did you at least think it was funny?”

Tara tried to fight the smile on her face as she rolled her eyes, but this time rolling them in a more playful manner. “That is so not the point!” She hoped you didn’t hear the laugh that threatened to come out. 

“Yeah… you thought it was funny,” you said proudly. 

“Shut up.” She could no longer meet your eyes, now looking back at the ground.

Before either of you could say anything else, the door to the market opened and Wes walked out with a few bags of his own. “I got the—oh hey,” Wes cut himself off to greet you.

He didn’t know you personally, just that you already had a few run-ins with his mom in just a month of being here. Did that make him weary of you? Sure. But you weren’t the first kid at his school to have run-ins with his mom. Your reasons were just more… creative. 

“This is Wes,” Tara introduced the two of you. Looking between you both as you two made eye contact.

“Boyfriend?” You asked without looking away from Wes.

“No! I mean,” she cleared her throat. “No. Not boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Right,” was all you said as a reply while you continued to stare him down. “How you doin’?” 

“Good. Yeah I’m good,” Wes responded with a tightlipped smile. 

“Okay see you around,” Tara quickly cut in before this awkward interaction could go any further. 

You finally turned your attention back on Tara, looking at her. “Seems to turn out that way. Doesn’t it?” Your tone was underlined with something Tara couldn’t place. Before she could respond, you turned around and walked away to who knows where.

You were truly something. 

—

You let Tara’s words sink in as you made a detour to Dewey’s trailer. Deep down you knew Dewey didn’t deserve the way you were coming down on him. Especially when you could probably say he’s done more shit for you than your father has. 

Moving to Woodsborro was definitely not at all ideal. You hated change and everything that came with it. All it did was bring more anxiety into your life. So when your mother informed you you would be leaving Brooklyn to move to some town in California, you didn’t handle the news well. You still weren’t handling it well. There were a few reasons as to why you moved, your father being the root of each one. But although you understood part of it, what you didn’t understand is why you had to move so far away. Maybe that’s part of why you’re so hard on Dewey. If your mom was moving and starting fresh, it makes sense she would want to start it surrounded by close friends. But did she have to pick one that lived so far away?

You didn’t know a bunch about her dynamic with Dewey other than the fact that they met in 1998 during the ghostface attacks. They eventually got close and became friends. They must have been great friends considering she made him your Godfather. 

You also knew Dewey was a former Sheriff. A former Sheriff that’s aware of your trip of a track record. He always made sure to keep an eye on you and it was extremely annoying. A nunsense really. It’s like you couldn’t breathe for five seconds without him hovering over you.

Your mom was a nurse, you didn’t get to see much of her. She always took as many shifts as she could, more shifts meant more money. More money is definitely something your family could use. Since your mom was always working, you often found yourself stuck with Dewey. You quickly grew sick and tired of him. But now here you were, making your way to Dewey’s trailer as you went over everything in your head. You knew you were the asshole in all this. Dewey was just trying to help you. He didn’t need you making it harder for him than it already was.

You knew what you had to do, even if it meant forcing out the words. Apologizing was not one of your specialties. You went over the exact words you wanted to say, sighing, before knocking on the door to Dewey’s trailer. 

Dewey answered the door, already knowing who it was. “Hey, kid,” he greeted just a second after he opened the door for you.

“Hey. Mind if I…?” You pointed to the inside of his trailer with raised eyebrows and he nodded before letting you inside. “So uh…” You shoved your hands in your pockets as you looked around as if you have never been in his trailer before. As if you hadn’t already spent most of your nights sleeping on the beat up mattress that was now leaned up against the wall. Dewey looked at you with his arms crossed and expression warm. You felt like he always wore a warm expression no matter what. “Hey,” you finally said once you realized you lost your train of thought.

He chuckled a bit before saying, “You already said that.”

“Right, well I wanted to…. Apologize,” you said while looking at the ground, playing with the fabric of your pockets.

“Okay. I’m listening,” Dewey replied as he took a seat on his futon.

“Oh, that was actually the apology.”

He hummed before inquiring, “For…?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was enjoying this. 

You exhale, tilting your head back as you look at the ceiling. You finally looked back at him before saying, “I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that,” he looked at you with a soft expression. You didn’t get a lot of those.

“No problem,” you give a brief smile before you begin to turn around. But before you’re able to leave Dewey’s trailer, you hear his voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stephen’s off at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all that you’ve put him through. But you also didn’t feel prone to declining it like you usually would be. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually,” there was still a bit of reluctance in your voice but it still held honesty. You were feeling something indescribable. You don't think you have ever felt it before, or maybe you just never felt it often. Dewey cared about you. He wanted to be there for you. It was a strange feeling, but not a dreadful one. 

You spent the remainder of your night in Dewey’s trailer; you talked and joked with one another as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. You always ate dinner alone. No one was ever around to eat with you and it didn’t take long for you to get used to it. It was different eating dinner with Dewey. To have someone to share a meal with. It was just a matter of whether it was a good or bad difference. 

Maybe for once you shouldn’t dread on your spiraling thoughts and enjoy the moment.

The next morning, you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. You lazily pushed yourself up by your elbows, leaning forward and rubbing your eyes with one of your hands. “Damn toaster!” You heard Dewey curse before you heard something clattering. You pushed your blanket off of you before rolling off of the mattress and onto the floor then got up to see what was going on. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked once he saw you before continuing to whack his toaster. 

“No. You’re good,” you yawned. “But—uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked between him and the toaster with raised eyebrows.

“I’ve had this hunk of junk for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered with a huff as he continued to hit the toaster's side. 

“I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

He waved his hands up in the air, purposely dropping the screwdriver he had on to the counter in the process. He let out a defeated sigh as he said, “Forget it,” pushing the toaster away from him. “I have to grab a few things. Are you going to be fine here or do you want me to drop you off?” 

You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. “I”ll be fine,” you said and he patted your shoulder as he made his way towards his keys. 

“Breakfast is on the table—I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving through the trailer door.  As soon as he left, you went for his tool box. You remembered seeing it the first time you came over. After grabbing the tool box, you grabbed the toaster and got to work. It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you finished, you had a little over ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster works,” he said with shock. This toaster was complete garbage just a few hours ago. What happened? He looked over to see you with your nose in your book, not paying him any mind. Then it dawned on him and he couldn't help the smile that grazed his face as he looked at you. “Thanks, kid.” 

“Didn’t do anything,” you simply replied before getting up from your mattress and grabbing your light jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” you reached for the handle before pausing. “I'll be back in a few,” you then added before leaving.

Dewey was still admiring his toaster when you returned.

-----------

A/N: tara and r are both sarcastic little shits in different fonts

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga @rroyale-109 @alliecavell

[cutecatlov3r]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨?

various x reader ! [bachira, isagi, sae, rin, nagi, and reo]

synopsis: my head cannons and my opinion on which songs they'd fuck you to .

warnings/tw: all characters are 21+, praise, degradation, and my personal head cannons on what they are like during sex .

a/n: don't copy my work ! like, re-blog, and comment ily ! not proofread .

jjk ver. aot ver. hq ver. ft ver. bnha ver.

Meguru Bachira

I Know [Kanii]

✰ Major switch. He loves dominating you though.

✰ Super kinky, he's up for anything. A secret about him is... That he wouldn't mind being pegged, he actually planned on asking you soon.

✰ This song just gives him so much energy to fuck you, he doesn't know why it turns him on so much.

✰ Usually he fucks up and gets you mad so maybe that's why he loves fucking you to this song, because it's relatable.

✰ Fast and hard, making sure to be extra rough with you when this song comes on.

✰ His stamina in simply astonishing, he can last 4-5 rounds.

✰ I feel like he only focuses on his own pleasure, going round after round. If he sees you unsatisfied though he will try to help you... Let's just say his hands have good techniques to help you cum.

✰ "Did you cum yet baby? No? Okay then, one more round! Hehe,"

✰ He whimpers and moans for you. Occasionally laughing because he can't express his happiness.

✰ LOVES when you pull his hair.

"I fucked up, oh girl, I know"

-

Yoichi Isagi

Look Back At It [A Boogie wit da Hoodie]

✰ Switch (?)

✰ With this song I can see him being a dom. Hitting all your good spots because he's going deep and fast.

✰ He is super passionate when it comes to sex.

✰ "Let me hold you a little more,"

✰ Moaning in your ear for sure. Like no doubt about it. He is super vocal.

✰ "So! Good! Ah~"

✰ His french kisses are so smooth and breath taking.

✰ I can see this man starting off slow and then going super rough, using all of his stamina to make you cum on his cock.

✰ He would probably degrade you if he's super into the sex you two are having.

✰ You will admit... The sex between you two can sometimes become intense. And low key scary...

"I get goosebumps when I look at it, All the girls just wanna have fun with me"

-

Sae Itoshi

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK [Joji]

✰ Time to get humbled because this man does not love you. At all.

✰ The only reason he's fucking you is because he needs to let off steam.

✰ Tries to go fast and hard, not focusing on you at all. You're basically only there because your warmth makes him feel better than his hand.

✰ His soccer career is the only thing on his mind, he doesn't ever have time for you.

✰ "Hang out? Why the hell would I hang out with you?"

✰ He does know that you admire him, he likes the fact that you're like a little puppy, ready to do whatever he asks.

✰ He puts on this song because he likes it, nothing other than that really.

✰ Of course it hurts you he doesn't love you, sometimes you cry because of how intimate you two are. But you know for a fact he won't ever love you.

✰ "You're just a fuck buddy, nothing more. Don't make this harder than it already is, idiot ."

"I don't want a friend, I want my life in two. Just one more night, Waiting to get there"

-

Rin Itoshi

Pretty Boy [The Neighborhood]

✰ Dom but a sweet dom.

✰ He will say the sweetest things, he has a soft spot for you.

✰ "You're so pretty, taking me so well,"

✰ I feel like this song would make him appreciate you more in the moment, the slow and steady sound just rubs him in all the right ways.

✰ Guys this song actually makes his heart stop when he looks at you because you're his precious baby girl.

✰ He will make sure to go slow so he can cherish the moment between you two.

✰ Sometimes he will manhandle you though, for example, pinning your arms down so you can't move.

✰ "Stay still baby,"

✰ Moans quietly.

✰ He loves you so much, you helped him through so much problems and he just sees you as a Goddess.

✰ 10/10 aftercare. He does anything you ask, being as sweet as he can be.

"Baby girl, look where we made it, girl"

-

Seishirou Nagi 

HER [Chase Atlantic]

✰ Nagi heals your daddy issues . (Yes, I cry to this song and think of how fucked up I am)

✰ He praises you, knowing you live for it. He will degrade you whenever you're in the mood to be degraded.

✰ "Such a good girl for me,"

✰ He silently moans and huffs.

✰ He dedicated this song to you because you're the light of his plain life. He thinks of this song as 'your' song, no one else can compare.

✰ He gets tired easily so you're usually the one doing all the work.

✰ He fucks you slow and hard. He doesn't really talk so he uses his actions to show you how much he loves you.

✰ French kisses you until you can't breathe.

✰ Sucks on your neck, not too harshly. Not really a fan of hickeys.

✰ Enjoys getting head during this song, that's when he grips on your hair, almost face fucking you.

✰ Thighs >>>

✰ Super over protective of you, doesn't allow anyone to speak to you. He will seriously get mad.

"Ooh, she's always been running from love, 'Cause daddy didn't give her enough. But I can make the pain better, All I need is one more day with her"

-

Reo Mikage

I Want You [Mitski]

✰ You two can't be together. His family wants to arrange a marriage for him. He doesn't want to hurt you if that happens so for now the both of you are just friends who are in love with each other.

✰ He cries when he's fucking you to this song, he wants you. Nothing will ever change that.

✰ The emotions between you two are so exotic, feeling nothing but love in the lustful moment.

✰ He goes slow, not caring if it's hard or deep, he loves just looking at you.

✰ It isn't even about pleasure, it's about love. Sex bounds love and makes it stronger, which is why he fucks you.

✰ "I love you so much..."

✰ You're the only person who understands him, which is why he isn't embarrassed to moan for you.

✰ His strength is enough to lift you over his shoulders so he's usually tossing you around gently.

✰ He wants to plan and run away with you so he doesn't have to ever worry about hurting you.

✰ Reo is a hopeless romantic . But... He wants to get more kinky with you eventually.

"I just need a quiet place, Where I can scream how I love you"

-

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

PCCP's 2024 multi-chapter fic roundup

I just wanted to take a moment here to celebrate some of my favorite multi-chapter fics I wrote in 2024! I have had so much joy in writing these and sharing them, and if you're looking for something to read, maybe give one of them a shot?

"Seabird, Fly Home" is my favorite fic I wrote this year. This is a reincarnation fic with heavy themes of grief, loss, and mourning, in which paranormal investigators Ed and Stede uncover the mystery behind their past lives. Very angsty but with a very happy ending. Rated M, 57k words.

"Star Waka" was the last multi-chapter fic I wrote this year and another stand-out favorite. Centered around ideas of identity, community, and learning to love being alive after you've given up on it, this is a sci-fi space trucker au. When starship captain Ed is assigned to mentor newbie captain Stede after a failed suicide attempt, he's able to come home to himself. Rated M, 55k words, and I think this fic really proves how much I've grown as a writer this year.

"Where We Belong: a Duet" is a former hitman!Ed au, and the longest fic I wrote this year. You like whump? Stede joyfully learning to Do Crimes? Then this one's for you! After stumbling onto Stede's doorstep after a last case gone wrong, all Ed wants is a quiet life, but as Stede tries to keep the peace only to find trouble constantly brewing on the horizon, they have to work for their happy ending. Rated E, 115k words.

"On a Bright Day, Next Week" started out as a Portal 2 au and took on a life of its own! In this sci-fi au, Stede wakes up in the cryosleep lobby at Queen Anne Research Laboratories, and must work with the erratic AI system ED to uncover the mystery of what happened there. Rated M, 54k words.

"This Sudden Burst of Sunlight" is such a special fic, centered around depressed, heavily suicidal Ed choosing to live after he's given up on a happy ending. Very angsty but so happy at the end! Rated E, 72k words.

"Dear Ed, Again" is such a fun fic and I just love it! When punk rockstar Ed and freshly-out Stede decide to run away from their lives together, they fake a relationship to prove to everyone in their lives that they're better off alone. As they heal with each other, they discover there's so much love still waiting for them. Rated E, 78k words.

"My Ocean Deep" was my first fic of 2024! This actual kraken!Ed au is sweet, whumpy, and has a super happy ending. Featuring cryptid hunter Stede teaming up with Ed, who just happens to be the kraken they're looking for, with lots of crew hijinks and perhaps my favorite Ned Low ever (what if he was just a really fucked-up marine biologist?) Rated E, 65k words.

"If I Get Lost Along the Way" is one I personally re-read often. After getting out of a string of abusive relationships, Ed meets Stede, they hit it off after going to key his ex's car at the same time, and they help each other learn to build a life they're excited to live. Rated E, 75k words.

"Everything That Rises Must Converge" is the shortest on this list, but I think it still hits hard! This is a twist on the post-s2 spitefic genre, with Ed being convinced their inn is haunted and their happy ending is crumbling apart, and as he unpacks his fear and allows himself to feel safe for the first time, their house shifts from a source of terror into a home. Rated M, 6k words.

"Sounds Like Pearls" is my first foray into writing age regression fic! More than anything, this fic is a character study into Ed's childhood trauma and its lingering effects, but it also has plenty of fluff, cute little!Ed moments, and healing for both Ed and Stede. Rated T, 44k words.

"Ed and Stede's Super Special Top Surgery Vlogs" is a step away from my usual prose style, as this fic is told entirely through videos on Stede's YouTube channel as he and Ed go through the process of Ed's top surgery. Very personal and filled with trans joy! Rated T, 19k words.

Thank you so, so much for everyone who's read along with any one of these fics! They've all been a joy and a pleasure to share. <3

[gemsofgreece]

Thats such a shame re: the Greek class community. I've been trying to do my best to learn greek for the last little bit, but methods for doing so are rather... limited? It's easier to learn basic Spanish here in the US, or Chinese because my partner's family speaks it, but there isn't enough of a Greek community or anything like that in the city/area I'm closest to, and any places that offer a Greek class (not a 1:1 tutor which is hella $$$, but an actual class with a few other students) are in person only and at least a 6 hour drive away :(

Re: apps, so many have started integrating AI to generate lessons that native speakers (of multiple languages!) Have called them out on having down right incorrect information.

I've got vocabulary lists and Greek radio stations, but they talk so fast that it's really just for immersion right now, there's no way I can follow any of it lol

All that to say, I (and I'm sure many others) appreciate your language posts, they've been super fun/interesting/helpful, so thank you for posting them (despite tumblr being... tumblr)

Thank you! I am really happy to know they actually help some people in their effort of learning Greek or deepening their understanding of it.

It might be perceived as sabotaging people's efforts or killing their motivation but I can't help but agree that the resources for Greek are limited and often of low quality. Nobody who is studying Greek should feel disheartened because they struggle with it, because the resources really are not that good and it is totally legit if not expected to have trouble learning due to it.

Also, I have been seeing "entertaining" educational content left and right and even that makes me... angry. I have seen Greek-learning content that has actual mistakes and I am not even a linguist, so they are glaring mistakes and it's unacceptable to see mistakes or limited knowledge in the content of the supposed teachers. So much of the content features unserious and pointless intervals for fun, focusing on funny expressions or hand gestures or malaka malaka malaka tzatziki malaka yassou souvlaki malaka and honestly this is not a befitting image for the Greek language (or any language for that matter). And even serious resources are chaotic for real. It can not be justified because Greek is easier than Chinese, if Chinese can be taught methodically and realistically, so can Greek. Half of the Greeks making educational content don't truly believe others will learn Greek other than to say a couple vacation phrases for fun. And malaka. *sigh*

If it makes you feel any better, if I weren't a native speaker I would not be able to learn Greek with the tools and apps I have seen around, except some basic with Duolingo. Duolingo is solid. I have checked some other apps and have hated them all but people learning Greek swear by Language Transfer. I didn't get the hype at all but maybe it's a me problem. Check Language Transfer if you haven't. It has recorded actual audio lessons of a Greek teacher with a foreign student and it was originally designed with the Greek language in mind. Maybe this one offers that depth of understanding I mentioned earlier and this is why people like it. I still found it a little chaotic tbh but most people say otherwise so give it a try if you haven't.

You said something that works like a trigger in me XD about Greek being spoken very fast and being unable to follow. I admit it's bold of me to say since I am a native speaker but honestly......... I don't think we speak THAT fast. I have seen this comment many times, people joking that Greeks speak like "atdkyfkaugsakikoakistakpidakoltesiki" so I decided to look into it and there was a study confirming that Spanish and Greek said on average the biggest number of syllables per time unit. However, I kept looking into it and I found what could be clearing things out and maybe it's a trick you can use (though of course I don't know your level in Greek):

The trick is that the difference of Greek (and Spanish) is that unlike many others, they are overwhelmingly open-syllabled languages and have MANY open syllabled endings. That confuses people from more closed-syllable lingual backgrounds because they sort of miss the beats in which the word or phrase is ending and they think the speaker pronounces a never ending word or sentence and they can't follow. Furthermore, despite the openness of the syllables Greek has strong and sometimes challenging consonant clusters (quite stronger than Spanish) and people from closed-syllable backgrounds tend to think this is where a word or phrase is supposed to end but this is never the case since Greek has usually open syllables and the words never end in a consonant cluster (just a sigma or a ni at most), so they kind of miss the flow of the language. To make this false perception worse, Greek has some seriously long words and due to the open syllables it makes people feel like a lot more things are said than what is actually said! And the unpredictable stress also perhaps confuses people with a first language that is usually stressed in the same spot within each word.

For example, imagine a Greek saying in a breath:

"o-si-ði-ro-ðro-mi-kós-stath-mós"

"wow hold on a bit now"

"what...? I just said 'the rail station'!"

You know? It's like German but with a lot of vowels which adds more and more length. I don't know if this hits any close to home, maybe the difficulty you encounter is different, but I figured I should mention this potential explanation just in case. If this hits close to home, then try to train yourself to expect the pauses and the endings of words and phrases only in a vowel or a ni or a sigma. And when you start listening to the radio, don't feel defeated but keep thinking "I am listening fewer words than I think" and "I am missing less stuff than I think".

By the way, by radio you mean classic radio or podcasts? Because there are some podcasts where the narration is a bit on the slower side (to my native ears at least). Check the podcasts of LIFO, such as Mikropragmata by Ares Dimokidis. Check in general podcasts with one single speaker (because in dialogues things get more animated and faster).

From youtube, if you like science, check channels like Καθημερινή Φυσική, Astronio, Greekonomics. Obviously the vocabulary is advanced in this context but I feel they speak medium to slow.

If you like Criminology, real crime stories etc, check out Vassilikou's channel, she speaks slowly and is thinking as she speaks so I think it's a good pace.

For some lightheartedness, trash tv references, celebrity news (Hollywood and Greek), LGBTQ+ representation (mild though, he doesn't really focus on sexuality topics), check Eponimos. He speaks slowly.

And as always, I keep recommending ERTFLIX, the entirely free and internationally available Greek state TV OTT platform which has lots of good content with Greek audio and foreign content with Greek subtitles. Available in all devices, apps, platforms etc

I know you weren't really asking for help but I thought that maybe these notes would make it easier for you idk

[beaniebitch01]

RANT!!!

*This will contain spoilers for Sonic Prime*

So I watched this show once before but held off writing my thoughts on it until I re-watched it cause on first watch I'm not really thinking of the show in a critical manner so it'd just be a disjointed string of random thoughts I had. It's also because any grievances I had may not have been fair when you consider the target audience this show was made for. So with that in mind I re-watched it and can now make a (hopefully) fair review of it.

I'm gonna start with what I thought was bad because considering it's a 3 season series I don't have a lot of complaints so I'll just get them out first.

1)The villains were dumb like what purpose does 5 eggmans serve besides obnoxious arguing. It would've been much more interesting if each world had its own version of eggman. Even the baby would've been a funny character if it was the sole villain for one of the worlds. 2)The fight scenes were repetitive. 3)Dialogue was actually painful sometimes, but this was made in an age where people for some reason think kids can't comprehend real conversations so they insert dumb quips. 4)*shudders*The Baby™. As sonic said in season two, "how can one baby be so hateable". Never in my life have I wanted to punch a character so bad. Every time it was on screen I felt a burning flame of hatred in my soul. 5)The ending, especially the last few episodes, went back and forth between Sonic trying to convince Nine to stop and the same fighting sequences and it got so annoying i thought about fast forwarding to the end. The stakes never felt high or low, they felt the same for all 7 episodes.

The good:

1)Shadow!!! He's in a show for more than a few episodes!!! Bro is always angry but honestly if I had to deal with sonics shenanigans I'd be perpetually annoyed too. 2)It was pretty well paced. Season one introduced all of the alternate worlds, season two had sonic switching between those worlds trying to get all of the crystals back and revealed a twist villain, season three was the fight against that villain and restoring the shatter space. 3)Considering the other shows we have, the animation wasn't bad, but could've been better. Especially when Netflix has come out with stuff like Arcane whose animation was incredible. 4)The plot was cohesive. 5)Good twist villain. Even though you can see it coming from the first episode of the first season, Nine still made for a good villain. 6)I was surprised to see actual character growth. Sonic's was inevitable since his carelessness got them into the situation they're in. Nine's character changed with each season, starting with being untrusting and guarded in the first, calming down in season two and actually caring about Sonic's wellbeing, feeling betrayed and angry in season three and then finally realizing he done goofed and Sonic was always his friend. 7)I really like that the one common thing from all worlds is the one palm tree. This feels like a weird thing to comment on but I just found it sweet for some reason.

Overall I really enjoyed the show and def recommend it.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Thoughts on Sophie’s love interests/their relation to her?

Okay I'm gonna try and cover a breadth, but let me know if I missed one! (this got long)

Sokeefe: Spoke about it more here, general idea is I think Keefe's become stagnant and is constantly inhibiting the plot/Sophie to an aggravating degree. He's unhealthily obsessed with her + praises her, yet is constantly meddling/steamrolling in a way I don't enjoy. I think he needs a life outside her and to actually experience consequences--Sophie should hate him for a while. As a treat. Sokeefe's execution was too quick for my tastes, but is still salvageable.

Sophitz: I'm biased; I love Fitz. He's shown remorse and growth, he spent his childhood looking for her while she spent hers wishing for someone like her. Sophie, without knowing or trying, completely annihilated all the pedestals Fitz stood on. Manifested younger, transmits farther, blocks better, etc. She's unwillingly everything he wanted to be. There's this tension, an undertone of subconscious jealousy to it all. Then the matchmaking makes it painfully clear what different worlds they come from, but it's gloriously frustrating because it didn't have to end like that, yet it was always going to, you know? They could've talked, they could've waited--but they were giddy and rushed in too soon (they never would've waited) and now they're further apart than ever. Really really hoping to see them re-find each other and establish something true and strong, non-romantically

Sodex: Sophie feels weird about it because they're technically cousins, so we're not starting strong (if Sophie didn't care, neither would I, but that's a separate thing). Furthermore, Dex fell hard for the first person in the world to not be a bigoted ass to him. Very low bar, very sweet and innocent, but entirely doomed to fail from day one. The crush was one-sided and built on nothing, the friendship forming later based on actual interactions and getting to know each other, which I think is a more compelling and sensible direction for the two of them. Dex is quick, stubborn, petty, and loyal. Big fan of what they've got now.

Sophiana: The pettiness of the first book, the push and shove. The nudge from Alden, the betrayal. Sophie consumed Biana's family's existence before she could walk, Biana always left out wanting until suddenly she was There. This thing she'd been excluded from made flesh to hate. A ratty, weird antithesis to Biana's princess reputation. The bridging of that gap and the sincerity they develop is beautiful. The ways Sophie opens Biana's eyes and Biana fights in turn to be there for her. Hoping we get more from them in-depth in the future

Solinh: Linh's resilient, caring, has spent a lifetime being an unwanted danger afraid of herself and hasn't had the time to find herself outside of survival. Sophie revolutionized Linh's world, enabled her to find the space she needed to grow and breathe easier. She's scary powerful, determined, and joyful--all of which Sophie would benefit from in turn. They could go on a journey of self-discovery and building confidence together, though right now their one-on-one scenes are a little lacking

Sopharella: Lot of layers to these two. One of her first friends, but despite that was one of the last Sophie actually got to know. Marella wanted to join and blamed Sophie for leaving her, decided it wasn't for her, then was dragged into it all anyway. They've never been super close, but are still tied together in ways they don't understand (Caprise's relationship to the Neverseen). Neither of them want to be in the situation they're in, and yet. They're in a sort of truce, but it doesn't seem either of them are doing anything to move beyond that

Hekster: Ah, rivals to lovers. Stina's unstable superiority, distancing herself from them in hopes no one remembers hey, weren't your parents...? The immaturity of "you laughed at me. you didn't even know me but you took his side" (paraphrased, Lodestar). The "We good, Foster?" Lot of hostility, but a lot of growth on Stina's part in this one (said because like 90% of Sophie's hostility is in reaction). Solid up until Stellarlune. However, I find the imbalance of that hostility to detract from the rivalry's appeal; if it was genuinely mutual instead of Stina being a bully and Sophie defending herself, I'd be more into it.

Sotam: Adore Tam. The defiance, the stubbornness, the way he'd rather fuck off and yet he's become part of this group almost against his will. The quiet burden he's given himself his whole life, the fear and responsibility. The way he'd choose Linh over the world. He's indebted to Sophie for saving Linh, for getting them out and getting her to an environment where she could connect and build her confidence. He's saved her in turn. They've got a sort of silently orbiting each other thing going on. I personally find their backgrounds (as Others), defiance, and humor to best serve a strong platonic bond.

Lopster: I don't even need to explain myself 100/10 no notes

[atwhughesversion]

hello :) if you have more fil lore to share i would love to hear it 🫶

oh my god yes i do!! buckle in bc i love this czech man and his gorgeous beard and this post got a little long.

first, here is fil being smiley with his former teammate fil (fun fact: filip zadina is who the red wings picked instead of quinn hughes in the draft, allowing the canucks to get quinn.):

source

second, while i can only add one video, here is a link to one minute of fil and his dog (the photos below are from this vid)

fun facts about hronek:

idk if you’ve seen the clip but during one of the last games of the season, when the canucks were beating the flames 3-0, the hot mic picked up on fil shouting “you have holidays in two days” to the flames bench

he scored a goal off of a 107.9mph shot last season which is insane and i need him to do it again

quinn literally loves him:

“I thought we were going to be a very good tandem, but we’ve been way better than I could’ve pictured us being. He’s helped me so much.” [source]

“(I) probably haven’t played with a player as good as him. He’s really skilled, can move the puck, can see things, can defend, can skate…they wanted to maybe split us up but I’m happy we’re together.” [source]

“Maybe he’s not comfortable around the media, which is fine. But around us, he’s like one of my favourite teammates ever. He’s not quiet, but he’s not loud. He wants to work with me and I want to work with him.” [source]

fil vs the media:

literally gonna be a rivalry for the ages now that he’s signed a long-term deal w us and i kinda can’t wait.

backstory: hronek is quite reserved and isn’t super comfortable in front of the media, as is his right. at his exit interview this season, jeff paterson got into it with him because fil denied that he had an injury and jeff wanted him to say that he did on the record lmao. this conversation starts at around 2:25 of this video:

hronek: i mean, you named it. like, first half of the year i was producing, second half i was not.

paterson: and why was that?

hronek, my sassy king: um, why? if i know the answer, i probably would do something different.

paterson: were you playing through an injury?

hronek: ?? no

paterson, about to make his way onto my bad side: like, we gave you your space all year; we’re just trying to ask a few questions at this stage

hronek: well what do you want me to say?

paterson: i just, i was curious about where the production-

hronek: what do you want me to say on—like, on the injury, if i didn’t have injury, what do you want me to say? i said no.

[cue awkward silence until a different reporter starts talking to soucy]

now, fast forward a little while: he still hadn’t re-signed, and vancouver media was doing vancouver media things (speculating about how he probably hates it here and there’s no way he can be a canuck if he doesn’t like doing media and he probably wants to go to a more lowkey city etc etc.) when, low and behold, he signed an 8-year contract extension. One of his quotes?

"I guess I'm going to have to do more media for 8 more years. It's going to be fun." [source]

him and jeff paterson are gonna be bffs by like november 2027.

also, filip on vancouver as a market/canucks fans:

“I like it. It’s nice when people like it and they enjoy the hockey and they’re supporting us, so, it’s a lot of fun.” [source]

some fil pics:

baby fil:

[duchessonfire]

Savior Carl!AU re-read Part 2 Chapter 1

Follow-up of my re-read of Part 1 Chapter 4. If you're not interested and don't want to have your dashboard spammed, you can block the tags Duchess reads and Savior Carl AU reread.

Commentary for Part 2, Ch 1 below the cut (spoilers for part 2 ahead):

I posted part 2 just a little over a year ago on December 20, 2023. I still remember what if felt like opening my word document for the Savior AU, which I had been adding to little by little during my 3-year hiatus between parts 1 and 2. I started part 2 while in the middle of a creative rut. My last fic (for the Marvel fandom) had been posted in May of that year and I had written nothing at all since. Stucky and Stony (my main Marvel ships) had lost a bit of their appeal to me creatively. I still liked them, but I had no desire to read or write about them. I knew I wanted to write a fic and be creative, so I thought: 'Hey, I have this amazing TWD fic that is just waiting for me to pick it up again, maybe now is finally the time to write that sequel'. So, I did.

It was not easy getting back into a universe I had barely touched in 3 years, especially when I was so afraid of messing up a story I cared about so much. In the end, I took the leap by telling myself that if 2021 Duchess could post a TWD fic for the first time, then 2023 Duchess had no excuse not to do the same. I told myself to keep my expectations low and to enjoy the writing process without putting any pressure on myself. So, I wrote the first chapter and kept it short and pretty much posted it without overthinking it (something that was especially difficult to do on my own, because I had grown used to having Beta-readers in the Marvel fandom).

I always knew I was going to start part 2 in medias res, immediately after Carl had killed Shane, picking up right where part 1 left off. I also knew I wanted part 2 to have flashback entirely focused on Shane and, more specifically, the good sides of Shane. After all, Carl had just killed his stepfather/abuser. What better way to make things as angsty as possible than to make him remember all the ways Shane had been good to him in the past? I do love a good angst, it has to be said.

One thing I was also excited to share was the AO3 summary for this sequel, which I had written years ago and which had been patienly waiting in my word document. To this day, I still love it:

Shane has been a lot of things throughout Carl’s life. In the old world, he was his godfather and his uncle and his best friend. When the dead started rising, he became his protector, his step-dad, the only thing standing between the Grimes family and the things that wanted to destroy them. Then, when his mother died, Shane became his drill sergeant, his commanding officer, the one person whose orders Carl had to follow without question, to ensure his sister’s survival. Now, with Shane gone, it feels like Carl is untethered, floating adrift in a dark sea with nothing left to guide him. Nothing but Negan.

Honestly, looking at part 2 now, I can't believe how quickly I wrote it. I posted chapter 1 on December 20 and chapter 7 on February 10. Which means I wrote 70k in less than 2 months. It's insane. But at the same time, it also makes sense, because I knew I wanted a part 3 and I knew I wanted part 3 to focus entirely on Carl and Negan's sexual relationship. Being a horny writer, I wanted to be done with part 2 as quickly as possible so I could finally enter my smutty era for good. However, at the same time, I really wanted part 2 to honor all the heavy lifting I had already done in part 1 and keep going with the slow burn. I was eager for the smut to start but I also didn't want to rush a process that had been 3 years in the making. I wanted Carl and Negan's relationship to grow organically from mentor/student to lovers and this meant a slow burn.

Because my draft for this sequel had started years ago, I already had big events highlighted which I was excited to get to (Negan threatening to cut off Carl's arm, the almost-kiss in the cell, or the Claimers for example) so a lot of times my problem with part 2 was about filling in the blanks between those very exciting moments. One of those filler episodes was the panic attack that Carl had in his room after killing Shane. I knew Carl had to grapple with the enormity of what he had just done. This was Shane, the most important person in his life since his mom died. There was no way Carl could just walk away from his murder unscathed. So I knew I wanted Carl to freak out, to be horrified at what he had just done, what Negan had talked him into. What I hadn't really planned, howver, was the hug:

He could die here, he realizes in a moment of clarity that hits him like a lightning bolt. He could suffocate in this room and no one would know, not until it's too late, not until he’s turned and started roaming the halls for warm flesh to eat. Please, don’t let me die here, he begs silently. He doesn’t even know who he’s talking to. He doesn’t believe in God, doesn’t believe that some higher power might be listening, but like an answer to his prayer, a warm hand materializes between his shoulder blades, and an arm wraps around his torso, making him recline against an even warmer chest. When Negan speaks, the smell of peppermint candy on his breath grounds Carl back to the here and now: “Shhh, it’s alright, kid. You’re alright, I told you that. Just relax, you’re golden.” The man keeps whispering, his voice a low rumble that Carl feels against his back. “That one’s on me. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I swear, Carl, you keep impressing me so much I keep forgetting you’re not like the rest of the psychos in this place. That’s my bad. But to be fair, you really do know how to hide that soft lil’ heart of yours behind your cold-hearted, badass, takes-no-prisoner-motherfucker exterior.” Negan chuckles and tightens his arms around Carl’s stomach. Pressed so close to Negan’s chest, Carl can feel every single one of his inhales and exhales.  He doesn't know how long they stay like this but he realizes he's instinctively started to match his breathing to Negan’s, until he finally regains control of himself, his heartbeat slowing down and his shoulders relaxing. Distantly, Carl wonders who last held him so close. Maggie, probably, long before Glenn died. “There you go,” Negan says, patting Carl on the chest one last time before letting him go. A cold shudder runs through Carl without the warmth of the man at his back, and he is immediately ashamed of this thought.

I have to confess, I'm still unhappy about this moment. To me, it feels a bit rushed. Every physical contact between Carl and Negan has been so sparse until now, so heavy with meaning, that this panic attack/hug still feels a bit too easy for me. But I didn't know how else to make the story progress and, even now, I still don't know what else I could have put as a filler to move the plot along. At least people have told me they like the hug so I'm comforted by the thought that even if *I* don't like it, other people still do.

“Hey. Who are you?” he barks. The feel of Negan’s fingertips against his jaw is strange. He is used to Shane’s hands. Big, calloused hands clasping the back of his neck or slapping him playfully over the head. Hands that locked around his throat and wrists when he trained him to fight. Hands that wrapped around his own when he taught him how to hold a gun and shoot. He knows Shane’s hands more than he knows his mother’s or father’s. Those were the hands that molded him, shaped him, turned him into who he is now. He doesn’t know how he feels about Negan’s hands, his long and thin fingers that the man likes to hide under leather gloves to better grip the handle of his baseball bat. These hands are foreign to Carl. But then again, it’s not like he’s got anyone else left. “I’m Negan,” Carl answers obediently. “That’s damn right. You’re Negan. And Negan’s got nothing to be ashamed of. So stop hiding your eye like a pussy and fucking own it. You took a bullet to the head and you survived. Anyone who’s got a problem with that, you have my permission to kick their ass. Got it?” Then, when Carl doesn’t answer fast enough, Negan’s hand tightens its grip, forcing Carl to relax his jaw to avoid pain. “I said, did you get it?” “Yes, sir.” Negan scrutinizes him, looking for a lie, or a flicker of doubt. When he finds none, he releases him but doesn’t lean back, staying so close to Carl that his head starts to spin from the smell of him, peppery and sour and animal-like. Negan never made direct physical contact with him before, not without layers of leather between them, not until he pressed Lucille's handle between his fingers. Now, to have the man's bare hands on him, to be so physically close to him without the threatening length of the bat between them, it throws Carl off his axis. Unaware of his confusion, Negan keeps going, “I don’t want to see that bandage again. And tie your hippie hair back. You just made the rest of the guys piss themselves back there, which is the only way you’ll survive this place. Shane’s not here anymore. You’re on your own, so you need to make sure that everyone else is too scared of you to even think about starting shit. You can’t afford to look weak. You get me?”

This was really the moment I was building to, that pivotal scene in chapter 1 that starts the whole of part 2. Shane is gone. Negan has now replaced him as the most important person in Carl's life. And it's now Negan's turn to mold Carl into who he wants. Shane wanted a soldier but a quiet one. He taught Carl to be invisible and to follow orders silently. Negan, however, is, like in everything he does, showy. He doesn't want Carl to be quiet or invisible. He wants him loud and proud and with his scarred face on full display. This, of course, is directly linked to what the scar means for Negan: it's a proof of what Carl did for him, saving his life and sacrificing his own; it's the visual symbol of Carl's loyalty for him, as well as the mark of Carl's resilience. Of course Negan wants Carl to show it proudly.

Conclusion; tldr: This chapter is very much Negan telling Carl that things will be different now that Shane is gone, but that Carl isn't alone in spite of this. He has Negan, and Negan will watch out for him, but Carl also needs to make an effort. Negan is fully aware that Sanctuary is a dangerous place filled with dangerous people, because he built it that way. Gone are the days of Carl hugging the walls, avoiding the market place, and being a loner. Negan wants Carl to embrace his place as a Savior of Sanctuary and by his side.

You can read the commentary for the next chapter here.

[vodika-vibes]

A Little Miracle

Summary: After the Republic is reformed into an Empire, you are stuck working with the same men, under the same Commander, you worked for while in the GAR. Unfortunately, Bacara doesn't seem to remember that he loves you. And it's becoming too hard to handle.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was looking at all of my requests, and just, none of the characters I had requests for were speaking to me, and smut just wasn't coming out of my brain today for some reason. So have this instead, a project I've been working on for over a week!

“Commander,” You try not to quail under the stern gaze of the man standing in front of you, “I respectfully disagree. This is a horrible idea, actually.”

The former member of the GAR, and currently Commander of the Imperial Army, pins you with a glare that would have made a lesser person run away screaming. And honestly, the only reason you aren’t running is because you’re right and you know it.

“You have a better idea, Corporal?” Commander Bacara asks, his voice low and gravely, and you can’t help but wonder when the last time he spoke was.

“I do, sir.” You say, “Sir, it’s Life Day.”

His gaze is cold, “And why should I care about a natborn holiday?”

“Because, sir, it means that no one will pay attention to a small group of people sneaking onto the planet.” You say, “And…and, sir, it’s everyone’s holiday, not just a natborn one.”

Some of the ice thaws from Bacara’s gaze, though it quickly returns, “And what’s your suggestion?”

“Send me and one other person.” You say quickly, “We get in, meet the contact, and get out without starting an incident.”

He pins you in place with a severe look, “I suppose that might be a good idea,” He says grudgingly, “Do you have a suggestion as to which of my brothers you go with?” There’s something acidic in Bacara’s voice, and you flounder slightly, because you’re not sure what you did to earn his ire this time.

“I…my understanding is that you would choose the best man for the job.” You offer, hesitantly.

His scowl deepens, “I assume that you’re not going to go wearing armor?”

“No, of course not, sir! I’ll be wearing regular clothes.”

Bacara stares at you, hard, for a moment. And then he nods, “Wait in the hanger, I’ll have someone meet you.”

“Yes sir.” You salute and then turn and hurry out of the room. Hopefully it’ll be someone you can actually work with.

Once upon you were a soldier in the GAR. Once upon a time you were tasked with protecting the Republic.

That felt like almost a lifetime ago.

And while you’re not happy with the Empire, you didn’t sign up for this, you’re stuck. You can no more leave the Imperial Army than you can keep the sun from rising.

At least you still work with Bacara. Well. Under Bacara.

But he’s not the same man he was before the Empire took over. He’s colder, and he looks at you like he doesn’t recognize you.

You miss the man he used to be. The man who would tug you into his quarters and steal your breath with deep kisses. The man who would murmur jokes in your ear when no one is paying attention.

The man who would hum your favorite song to settle you when things were too much to handle.

You missed the man you fell in love with.

And you’re beginning to fear that you’re never going to see him again.

You slip into your quarters, somehow you don’t have to share with anyone, and you pull the pretty dress your mother sent you out of the closet. It looks out of place, mixed with the stark white of your military uniform, but you’re glad you have it.

You hurriedly pull the dress on, as well as some tights and your heels, and you pull your hair out of your regulation bun, allowing your hair to tumble around your shoulders, and then you hurry to the hanger.

The halls are empty…as is the hanger.

It’s nice, if not a little eerie.

If you close your eyes you can almost hear General Mundi walking over to you to discuss a novel that he read recently, or you can hear the shinies joking about which one of them was going to be the first one to get your number.

You release a shaky breath, ignoring the ache in your chest with the ease of long practice when you hear footsteps behind you.

And you start in surprise when you see Bacara standing there in civilian clothes. He pauses when he sees you, and you mentally prepare yourself for the insult that is inevitably coming your way. 

But instead he winces and touches the side of his head, “You look…nice.”

You blink at him, “Thank you, Commander. So do you.” He looks more like Bacara than he has since Master Mundi’s death. “Um…are you ready to go?”

“You can’t call me Commander if we’re going undercover.” He says flatly.

You wince, “Yes. I know.” Except the last time you called him by his name, he verbally tore you a new one, and you’re still reeling from the hurt of that. “Bacara, then.”

He nods once, slowly, and motions for you to take the lead. Which you do, without much of a second though.

True to your predictions, there are a lot of people out and about. But no one is giving either of you a second look.

Bacara’s hand is warm on the small of your back, the heat sending jolts of electricity up your spine. It’s been ages since you’ve been this close to him. But it became necessary after a group of tourists pushed themselves between you and Bacara.

“There are more people than I would like,” Bacara grumbles in your ear.

“Relax,” You reply, “They’re just existing, no one is even giving us a second look.”

His hand slides to your hip when another group of tourists threatens to push between you, and it sits there comfortably, as though that’s where it belongs. “I know. The contact is at this party, right?”

“That’s what the intel says.” You agree.

“Great. Come on, the party is this way.” Bacara guides you through the crowded street, until you reach the open air party that this planet is known for. It’s loud and thrumming with an excited energy that you don’t think you can match…not this year at least.

Once upon a time you would have loved being here with Bacara. You would have tugged him onto the dance floor and spun around with him until he was flashing that secretive little smile at you, and you were giggling and breathless-

But that Bacara doesn’t exist anymore. 

You tear your gaze off of a young woman and her beau, feeling your heart break as you watch them spin around on the dance floor, lost in each other. You swallow the bitterness and the tears, and you cast your gaze up to the taller man standing at your shoulder, “Do you see our contact?”

Bacara slowly tears his gaze away from the dance floor as well, and he looks down at you, “No. Not yet. We might be early.”

“Ah, well…it looks like there’s a snack bar. Would you like something to drink?” You ask, “Or eat?”

“Something to eat would be nice.” He says after a moment, “I’m going to go over by the side entrance. You can find me there.”

“Right. I won’t be long.” You smile at him weakly, before you turn and head towards the table. You’re able to feel his gaze on you, and when you turn to look back at him, to see why he’s staring at you, you see that he’s rubbing his temple again.

You bite your lower lip, concerned, but turn back to the table. Luckily, no one seems too keen to bother you as you grab two wine glasses and some sandwiches. 

And then you walk around the outside of the party to get back to Bacara, who is still rubbing his head. “Com-um…Bacara,” You say slowly, setting the drinks and food on a nearby table, “Are you alright?”

He glances at you, “Just a headache. I’m fine.” He grabs a glass and takes a sip, “Have you seen our contact?”

You watch him for a moment, “No. No, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just keep your eyes open.” 

You settle on the stool at the table, absently shredding your sandwich as you keep your eyes on the dancefloor. The longer you watch the couples dance, the worse you feel, until you can feel the tear pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“If you want to go dance, I’m not going to stop you.” Bacara’s voice is flat.

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to cry.”

You press your lips into a thin line, “This just…isn’t how I foresaw my life going.” 

“We’re lucky to have the positions we have,” Bacara’s voice is low and chiding.

You lift your chin, “Yes sir.” And then you hesitate and you turn to look at him, “You don’t…you don’t remember me at all, do you?”

Bacara stares at you silently for a moment, “Is there something to remember, corporal?”

You flinch as if he had just struck you…and honestly, his punching you likely would have hurt less, and you quickly look away, “No. I guess not.” You slide to your feet, “Excuse me.” You slip away before he can say anything. You don’t want to hear anything that he has to say.

You wander around the party, taking in the decorations and the ice sculptures, and, before you realize it, you’re standing outside the party, looking out at the crowds of people.

It would be easy, you realize suddenly. You’re dressed just like most of the other women out there. No uniform. Nothing marking you as a soldier at all.

It would be easy for you to vanish into the crowd. 

You take a step towards the crowd, when a strong hand wraps around your wrist. You whip around to look up at Bacara. He looks…conflicted. And slowly, very slowly, he releases your wrist, and it falls to your side. 

“I won’t stop you, if you want to leave.” He says, “You’re not made for military life-”

“...right.” You whisper. “You could come with me.” You offer.

“I am a good soldier-”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and then you spin on your heel so you’re facing him, and you reach up to press your hands against his cheeks, “You don’t remember me, Bacara!”

“I don’t-”

“You once promised to take me dancing,” You say, and this time you don’t stop the tears from falling, “Properly dancing, you said, not the secret dancing in your quarters late at night, after General Mundi went to sleep and we’re both two sheets passed tired, but we’re together so we dance.”

His hand comes up to brush a tear off your cheek, and it only makes you cry harder.

“You used to love me, Bacara, and I don’t know what the Empire did to you to make you forget, but I can’t do it anymore.”

Bacara’s other hand comes up to cradle your cheek, and slowly his forehead lowers to bump against yours, “...Corporal-”

“You used to call me cyare,” You whisper, “You used to tug me into empty rooms just to steal kisses and would whisper jokes in my ear to make me laugh after hard missions and would hum my favorite song when you thought I needed a pick-me-up…”

His grip tightens slightly, and for a moment his face twists in pain. 

“If you can’t give me that again, if you can’t be that man anymore, then please, let me go.” You beg, “I deserve more than this.”

Bacara says nothing for a moment, his eyes squeezed shut and his face twisted in pain, and then, after a whole minute, his eyes open.

His grip softens, and Bacara slowly strokes your cheek, “My cyare,” He whispers, pain and guilt and horror in his voice, “My beautiful, perfect cyare.”

You look up at him, and there’s recognition in his eyes. Recognition and more than a little guilt. 

“Cara?” You whisper. 

He smiles at you, and wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb before he leans in and presses the sweetest kiss against your lips, “I did something awful, cyare.” Bacara whispers.

“We can run. No one will ever make you do something against your will like that again. I promise.” You say.

Bacara stares at you, and slowly he nods. Quickly he shoves his comm, and yours, into a dumpster, and then he leads you into the Life Day crowds.

Within days, both of your faces are going to be plastered from one side of the Empire to the other, listed as deserters, but at least you’ll be together if nothing else.

[south-sea]

i've been promising it for ages, so here are finally some notes on the two iterations of black arms/doom i write for. in this house we ignore the "black doom is an evil space tyrant for the sake of being an evil space tyrant" thing and have fun exploring his motives from different angles

(it's because i had no idea that was even a thing until like a week ago. i've always thought the motivator was Just Food, and i like that significantly more.)

i like to think of eclipse's paternal qualities as something telling to black doom/the species as a whole, at least outside of canon instances. so that's an intentional trend across both.

it's also intentionally implied the alt arms are more or less what aruna's hive could/would have turned out like if he were less traditionally stubborn and foolhardy.

as for their plans and how things ended up:

alt doom started out as generally interested in how humanity might progress. once in contact with gerald, his plan was to trade his DNA for the chaos emeralds as a source of energy for the black comet, as its at-the-time power would have been mostly depleted by the time it circled back around in 50 years. this agreement was doomed to fail; both he and gerald almost immediately realized how badly it could backfire, got paranoid, and mutually planned to destroy each other. the fact humans are good sustenance for the black arms was just a convenient bonus at that point.

given shadow didn't make it past SA2 on this timeline, it left sonic to defeat the black arms. and in sonic fashion, this meant putting them in their place and sending them packing without properly destroying them.

alt doom is not so much one to accept he's been beaten, and more one to re-approach something from a different angle once he realizes his methods were flawed. this leads to him picking up and just going Somewhere Else. he's a scientist too, on some level. he can figure it out. and he does. rather than being all traditional and stubborn, he learns to work with other species, which in turn leads to securing better/more diverse materials, more ethical/convenient food sources, etc. the arms' population booms and advances at breakneck pace from then on. they diversify and spread out. without having to fight for survival, things are chill. it's considered the good end.

aruna's is the bad end. shadow is present on this timeline, and summarily wrecks his entire shit (for good reason).

the trouble with aruna's hive is it was in a constant state of nutritional deficit. they were the multiverse's scavengers, tending to pick planets clean whose populations were already critically low. not for any moral or ethical reason, just that the hive itself was so comparatively small in numbers, they didn't much have a choice.

this led to desperation. he got Tired of it. his last ditch effort to secure some means of easier travel/means to acquire food was to obtain the chaos emeralds. so he struck a deal with gerald, as these things always go.

he comes back 50 years later, finds his son has sided with the humans, and just snaps. just goes absolutely nuclear. if the deal isn't going to be upheld, and shadow sees the black arms as The Enemy, then he's just going to take the emeralds (and by extension the whole planet itself) by force. he's done playing nice. he and his people are starving. have been starving for enough years he's lost count.

this ends with the entire comet being blown up, and that's the last thing he sees as he's falling back to earth.

what all goes on after that point is between nobody but him, the multiverse's worst and, somehow, eventually, a familiar fallen god. (it's going in another aruna-centric post, some day, maybe, i hope.)

there's even still more i could say about how their respective hives operated and how they interacted with them personally, but that also needs to go in another post because this one's already long enough. but oh man is there more to say.

(and a shoutout/direct link to @motobug as always for the mobian design)

[rico189sspamtonhell]

Obsessive Villain Imagines pt 2

While re-watching the show I realized I missed a lot of villains that would have had a field day with the forcing you to dance with them prompt so I made a part 2 <3 Consider this my Halloween gift! Happy Halloween and stay safe! TW for unwanted touching, forced marriage and misogyny in Aragon's part

Same prompt as the last post. Imagine a DP villain crashing a banquet or fancy ball because Danny was there and their eyes land on you, who also happens to be their nemesis. During the confrontation, a slow song begins to play. Wanting to toy with you they grab your hand and forcefully pull you onto the dance floor so you can slow dance with them. One hand is on your lower back, the other grasping yours as they lead you in the dance with their piercing eyes staring into yours as they tell you their grand plan for the night. As you waltz the lights shine down on you both, giving you and them an ethereal glow. For a moment, just a moment they fall silent as they look down at you. In that moment their eyes are soft as they see you in a new light.

Characters that would do this

Ghost Writer….But horribly. In the last post, @sugarviv helped me open my eyes to the fact that this man would try to be all suave as he danced with you, trying to make himself out like a Great Gatsby or Phantom of the Opera type, but unless he’s utilizing his typewriter to bend reality this man is gonna fail. It's going to go like this.

Ghostwriter smirks smugly as he grabs you by your hand and pulls you into his chest. The stage was set. Was he horribly underdressed for the occasion in just his scarf and coat? Yes, but you were dressed formally and that's all that mattered to him. "What a pleasant surprise seeing you here. Now, shall we dance my dear?" He asked as he began to waltz throughout the dance floor with you. There was a distinct chill in the air as he gazed down at you, his eyes glowing in the dim lights.

 "You must be wondering-" The moment is interrupted as he steps on your foot, eliciting a small grunt from you. "Shit sorry-" He trips on your feet again. "Shit-" He trips and this time he falls onto the floor with you in tow. The author groans as his nose crinkles in annoyance. “Damn it-” As he opens his eyes the realization that your form is on top of his hits him like a truck. Shock floods his system as his eyes grow to the size of dishes. He swallows only to find that his mouth is suddenly dry. If he still had a beating heart he just knew that it would have leapt from his chest by now. Mission failed…successfully?

Amorpho: 

This man is an attention whore and what better way to garner much-needed attention than to be the center of attention at a fancy ball? 

It can go two ways with him. If he decides to go on the down low then he’ll transform into a handsome gentleman before he takes you by the hand and starts the dance. He’ll bask in all the attention as the crowd murmurs about the mysterious stranger dancing with you all the while you know exactly what's up. As you glare at him, all he does is offer an innocent smile. “What? I just want to have a little bit of fun.” He whispers to you as a glint shines in his crimson eyes. Is it…affection? If he’s feeling like simply scaring the crowd he’ll do it in his ghost form to watch the crowd scatter as he dances with you. The chaos just adds to his delight as he waltzes with you, basking in all the attention. However, at this moment there’s only one person whose attention he craves and it’s yours <3

Prince Aragon: This man is probably the most toxic on the list along with Spectra, especially if you’re female presenting dejdjkdkdf. This dude just radiates dancing with his enemy vibes especially if he starts to see them as a potential bride or groom. Any attempts to pull away are met with a sharp glare and a hiss from his lips as he tightens his hold on your hands. If you’re female presenting or cis female best believe this man is gonna be misogynistic during the dance, critiquing your form, how you dressed to the event, the fact that you just won’t submit and dance willingly like he wants you to, honestly if Danny doesn’t come to deck out his lights you just might. If you’re male presenting or cis male he probably won’t be any better djkdkjd.

Bullet: Unlike Walker (I’m still crying I wanna dance with him so much sob) I can see Bullet taking a moment to toy with you via dancing with you. If there's someone you’re particularly close with be it a crush or friend he very well might overshadow them to dance with you just to get you even more agitated.

Characters that would do this, but a little differently

Dora. 

Imagine for her you’ve been kidnapped by her brother to be his queen/king and Dora is assigned to teach you how to dance because Aragon wants to have a big ball to celebrate you becoming his spouse and he can’t have you stepping on his feet the whole night. She’s grasping your hand delicately as she goes through the steps. Every so often the lights shine down on you just right, casting you in this glimmering glow. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that you were an angel.

She can’t help the faint blush that creeps along her cheeks as she gazes up at you. Despite having helped her brother kidnap you, you’ve been so kind to her. Your gaze is so soft as you look at her like she’s a beautiful treasure to be cherished. Every opportunity you can, you try and convince her that she’s not just a pretty face, that she’s allowed to feel emotions other than happy or neutral, and that she’s allowed to be strong and independent just like her brother. She knows it's most likely just pity after you’ve seen how the prince treats her, but she still cherishes the few moments alone with you she gets. You just…make her feel like she’s more than just her brother’s glorified maid. She dares to dream that you could be her spouse instead of her brothers. It's a silly dream, she knows. Her brother claimed you first, and whatever he wants he always gets. Besides, it was already made clear that she couldn’t pick her betrothed. Whoever she wed would be hand-picked by her brother as their parents were no longer around the marry her off. As she waltzes with you in the deserted ballroom, all those troubling thoughts begin to fade away as she offers you a smile full of melancholy and eyes full of adoration. “You’ll make a wonderful bride/groom…I know it.”

Nocturn. I can see him setting up a scene like this in your dreams. What better place to be alone with you away from possible interference than your mind? He conjures up the whole fancy ball scene, making sure every detail is perfect before he appears before you. He knows who you are and knows you’ll do anything to aid the ghost boy in thwarting his plans. He takes you to the little scene he's set up with one hand on the small of your back. No matter what you do, how much you might try to fight back or run, you just end up right back in this little ballroom scene he's made just for you. The nocturnal ghost smirks as he grabs you by your wrist and pulls you close. "No one is coming to aid you in this battle that's being waged inside your mind, so you might as well just enjoy the party my dear." He coos as he starts to lead you in a twisted waltz as his nightmarish minions watch from the crowd. "Why fight it my little star? I can make you have such pleasant dreams. I can show you anything your heart desires." He dips you low as he leans in to whisper into your ear. "I can be whatever your heart desires here...All you have to do is allow me to do as I please."dp bulle

Desiree. Idk, I just get the vibes that if you have caught her attention she will want to dance with you, but maybe not in front of a crowd and probably not a waltz. I looked into her ethnicity and I believe she is Arab so maybe she’d teach you some Arabian dances to do with her. Sorry I don’t have a small blurb for her like I do Ghost Writer and Amorpho, I don’t know her character well enough djkdjfdjkdf. 

Bonus Platonic Friends!

Youngblood: 

I can see this little guy thinking that this whole fancy party you’re at is boring. Where’s the clowns?! The bouncy castles?! What do you mean everyone has to dress in such stuffy clothes?! He’s had enough and changes the music to something more fun to dance to before grabbing your hands and dancing to it with you. You’re his favorite playmate after all besides Danny. Since he’s not here, you’ll do as his dancing partner! Besides, you looked all bored in the crowd before he came along.

His movements are fast and erratic as you guys dance, but it's not long before you’re laughing along with him. The energetic ghost is just a ball of energy and it ends up rubbing off on you. Not long after the song ends he drags you to the desert table, eager to devour all the sweets he can before Danny comes to put a stop to his fun.

“Bet ya can’t eat more cupcakes than me!” That was all you heard before he shoveled his first cupcake into his mouth, not even warning you that the challenge had started.

“You’re on little man!” You yell before beginning to devour your portion of the cupcakes. Frosting quickly smeared across your mouth, dripping onto your clothes, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was beating this little brat at his own game.

By the time Danny found you two all the cupcakes were gone and both you and Youngblood were groaning on the floor. 

“No…No fair. You…you cheated.” He managed to groan out as he held his upset stomach.

“Don’t…don’t be a sore loser kid.” Was all you choked out before you gagged. You’d won, but at what cost?

Sidney:

This sweetheart would never in a million years think of forcing you to dance with him as a power play. He just wouldn’t have it in him. What does he look like, a bully?

However, seeing the fancy dance you’re at hits him with a pang of bittersweet nostalgia as he reminisces about the school proms he had gone to when he was still alive. The proms he had gone to never really worked out as the bullying tended to get worse whenever he’d show up without a date or his bullies would devise a cruel prank for him. Still, there had been some good memories. Hanging out with the few friends he did have. Chowing down on all the junk the school had to offer at the snack table. Enjoying the music in the corner as he watched the rest of the partygoers dance the night away. As he reminisces in the corner you happen to spot him. It was a fairly easy task as he stood out with his monochrome coloration amidst the sea of colorful suits and dresses. He looked so forlorn as he watched the crowd dance and have a grand old time…How could you possibly just leave him alone?

Sidney looked up as he saw you approach him, his eyes widening slightly. He had seen you amongst the crowd, but he didn’t think you’d spare him a moment of your time. Before he could say anything, you held out your hand as a faster, upbeat song began to play. “W-Wait, you’re asking me to dance?” He asked shakily as he glanced at the crowd.

“What does it look like Pointdexter?” “I-I don’t know the steps, w-what would I even do? No, no I shouldn’t-” He let out a startled cry as you grabbed his hand and yanked him out onto the dance floor. You could read the diseased introvert like a book. It was clear he did want to dance, he was just afraid to go out onto the floor by himself. Maybe if he wasn’t alone he’d gain some confidence. 

Sidney at first wanted to turn and bolt, but as you started to move on your own, uncaring of the surrounding crowd, your confidence seemed to rub off on him as he began to move as well. “Well…Maybe one dance won’t hurt…”