#that's a criticism more fitting for --AHEM!

[barb-l]

Just wanna take a moment to talk about how much I adore Vaggie's verse in "Whatever It Takes", especially this line.

Because it makes so much sense after finding out Vaggie's backstory. Unlike the other residents in the Hotel, Vaggie wasn't someone that needed Charlie to be redeemed. Vaggie had always been a good person. She was a real angel who put down her weapon and refused to kill a child, even if it were a demon.

Lute saw Vaggie's mercy as a weakness and flaw that made her undeserving of her halo. Vaggie didn't need someone who saw and believed in the good in her. The problem is that she was seen as sinful just because she extended her kindness towards someone supposedly damned for eternal punishment.

Meeting Charlie made her realize that she wasn't alone. Vaggie is an outcasted angel for showing mercy to a demon, while Charlie is a ridiculed demon for believing in redemption for damned sinners. Charlie understood how it felt to be punished for her kindness, but still persevered with who she is, and so Vaggie does too.

One of the things I love about their relationship is that Charlie didn't "fix" Vaggie. She saved her, yes, but Vaggie had always had that good in her that she acted upon despite the consequences even before meeting Charlie. Such a pure soul like Charlie deserves someone whose kindness isn't dependent on their romantic relationship. It's why Vaggie saying that she believes in Charlie's dream aren't just empty words for the sake for supporting a loved one. Vaggie may be more realistic about it, but she definitely means what she says. She has saved a demon before, heaven's orders be damned. So she'll help Charlie save many more.

Vaggie isn't just helping Charlie with hotel just because she's being a good girlfriend. Well, she is duh but also they both just genuinely care about people even Heaven abandoned. That's why she and Charlie are partners.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

If you don't mind can I request any yandere you want and see reader in a wedding dress they thought reader was planning a marriage turn out she just like the dress

A/N: BAHAHAHAA this is so funny. Yes of course, im *assuming* you are referring to the MK guys? Just send in another request if not😭😭

Characters: MK1 Johnny Cage, MK11 Kung Lao and MK11 Erron Black as a wild card lol.

Warnings: buffoonery and Johnny Carlton 😖

Requests: always open 24/7

Masterlist

Johnny ca(needs to be arrested asap)ge

Oh boy…why did you have to get this man started?? I'm going to assume you just thrifted a pretty white dress, not realizing it was a wedding dress in the impulsivity of the buy.

When you got back home to try it on, it unexpectedly fit like a glove. Accentuating every nice thing about your body. The lace and embroidered rhinestones made everything just 100 times better. A gorgeous glam dress that you’re sure Johnny would love just as much as you do.

Excited, you waited by the front door for his arrival to show off your new purchase.

Immediately he froze at the doorstep, the sight of you in this little git up took him aback.

You stuck a cute pose and did a full body spin to show him every detail, egarly asking him what he thought.

“Ta-Daaaaa! So, what do ya think? I picked it out at the charity shop down the street. I figured it’d be perfect for a special occasion..”

Girl you are so damn foolish😩 that man is going feral now

Johnny had been playing his obsession very cool this entire time. Only maybe slipping up once but now…???

That “special occasion” is obviously the day you’ll become his wife. What day is more special than that?! He’s so happy that you initiated this first. He’s been wanting to make you his forever since he’s met you and obviously you feel the same way too.

See, you’re perfect for each other! He knew you were the one. Only a bit sad he didn’t realize your feelings sooner or else he would’ve taken you to Vegas months ago.

“When I gave you my credit card to get something nice I didn’t expect for you to buy a wedding dress. I’m not complaining tho~ it was only a matter of time until it happened.”

….what?

You had looked back down at your dress and realized that it did look oddly similar to one…but that was just a coincidence.

You explained to him that no, it wasn’t supposed to be a wedding dress. You had picked it up because of the detailing, you figured it’d be perfect for the next red carpet.

Ohhhhh he sees what you’re doing here. You’re playing dumb, this was only a hint that you wanted him to claim you. He’ll promptly propose. It’s the traditional way of doing things. ;)

You reiterated again, more seriously this time that this was only a dress for his red carpet. Honestly more of an impulse buy if anything. You hadn’t realized what the dress actually was. It was far too soon to get married and you wasn’t even certain if Johnny was who you wanted to be with in the long run.

His vision of you walking down the isle in that snatched, sexy little dress was shattered… for a mere moment he became overwhelmed with sadness. Wha— what do you mean that you’re not sure you want to marry him? Who else would you marry in place of him? You’ve been planning to leave him, haven’t you?..

Quickly that sorrow turned to anger and a side of Johnny you’ve never seen came out to bite.

His eyes were narrow and sinister as he peered down at you, over his expensive sunglasses. His voice was low yet venomously brash.

“Sweetheart—“

“You don’t get to play silly little games like this and get my hopes up for nothing. We’re getting married, there’s no other option better than me. And if you think for a second that you’re going to leave me—heh—-I’ll make your life agonizing.”

Oh..

It wasn’t long after, that he held you down and shoved a ring on your finger…ahem romantically proposed and you were eloped with an insane contractual agreement.

Poor thing…use critical judgment next time you’re out shopping.

Kung lao

You were out at the markets getting some groceries and household items. Normally Kung Lao would accompany you, but after much negotiation, he decided to let you go out alone. He was well familiar with the shopkeepers and locals so there wasn’t much to worry about. And he didn’t fear you being hit on there as everyone in the town knew who you belonged to. Any man who was stupid enough to talk to you was a man who was certainly going to die.

Of course like any woman, after your necessities were brought, you decided to do a bit of window shopping of vendors that were in the area.

Nothing new or interesting caught your attention until an older woman pulled you into her store to show you her selection of dresses. They were all so gorgeously designed and hand crafted, they must’ve taken ages to make.

“I have something very special for you. I think this will make that man of yours very pleased.”

After searching through a few boxes, she found the one she was looking for and displayed it for you. The dress was a striking red with gold embellishments and pleats that were colorfully embroidered.

It was so well done that it almost appeared painted on. It’d kill you to have that dress, even trying it on would be a dream in itself. But sadly, you knew that anything at this level had to be exorbitant in price. There’s no way that you could afford, let alone justify paying for it.

Thanking the shop keeper and complimenting the dress, you shook your head and declined. Explaining to her that this purchase would make you struggle for a couple of months.

The old lady wouldn’t take no for an answer and pushed the box towards you.

“My dear, this one was made for you. I must let you have it, don’t worry about payment. Just make sure I get to see you in it.”

Shocked, you asked a couple of times if she was serious and she was very adamant about you taking it home with you. She winked at you and sent you on your way.

Excited, you rushed home and into your room. Entirely running past your boyfriend in the process to hurried try the dress on.

It was exactly your size. It was almost as if if was made exactly to your measurements. You spun around in the mirror a million times so happy to be able to own something so luxurious.

“Y/N? What’s going on in there?? Are you okay? You didn’t even greet me when you came in.”

Opening the bedroom door you surprised him with the dress.

“Can you believe it, Kung Lao? Some lady at the market gifted this to me. She said it was made for me and insisted that I take it home.”

Yeah…ummm

That “random” lady wasn’t so random. He’d been planning this moment for over a year. He took out half of his savings to purchase it and have it custom built for you. All of your favorite colors and style preferences were put into this. He told the lady that whenever she was finished with it, to give it to you the next time that she sees you.

It was a surprise seeing you in the dress though. He knew you’d look beautiful but not this damn good. All of the details brought out the best in yourself. It wasn’t form fitting as it was a traditional xiuhuefu but it still such a perfect fit on you. He was proud that did exceptionally well in designing this for you.

Acting dumb, he asked many questions like who the lady was and was you sure it was truly for free. So manipulative…

“I guess this is a sign of fate…that we are destined to be married soon.”

Ummmm….what?

You laughed and explained how it was just a traditional dress that you plan to wear at a festival or something. What was he talking about marriage? It’s just a pretty dress right??….right?

Girl—-

He explained that no, it was actually a traditional dress only worn by brides. —And that since you was not only “gifted” it, but that it fit you well must mean that you’re ready to be his bride.

“Oh…no…I had no idea, Lao. I just like the dress, I don’t wanna be married to you.”

Let me take a sip of my drink😪

Immediately his face scrunched up in anger and he backed you into the wall.

“You don’t wanna be married to me?! Don’t you know how much money I spent on this dress? Do you know how many hours that poor old lady spent on this, customizing everything for you? I even tried to make the experience receiving the dress special. And you don’t want to marry me?”

He harshly grabbed your chin and pulled your face closer to his

“You don’t get a choice in this, my precious flower. Any other girl would kill to even be noticed by the great Kung Lao..don’t be such a fool and make this difficult.”

Yeah..we’ll at least your wedding was absolutely massive and filled with tons of yummy foods.

Erron Black

(Yes I know Erron’s mom was crappy but for plot purposes please let’s pretend he lovvveeeed her okay.)

Erron had left you back at home while he took care of some business and agreed to let you go through the attic. It was very very old and cluttered and he couldn’t care less about what you did with most of the stuff. He hasn’t seen most of it since he was a much younger fella anyways.

He told you there might be a few old clothes that were his mothers and sisters and you were free to take anything you’d like. You're about their size anyhow and he’d rather them on you than to be rotting in a box any longer.

You made your way through tons of old nicnacks and relics, it took a few hours of searching to find any of his old childhood things since they were in the faaaar back.

Eventually you found a hefty box that read women’s name on it and brought it back downstairs.

Hats, blouses, skirts and accessories were all in there. Not much that you’d wear since they were all a little dated and too mature for you—but there was one thing that caught your eyes. Something wrapped in dainty floral wrapping paper and tied with a pretty bow.

……Erron did give you permission to open whatever you’d like so I’m sure this wouldn’t hurt him.

Upon carefully unwrapping the delicately wrapped piece, the most gorgeous vintage wedding dress was revealed. Yes it was rather dated like most of the clothes with big puffy sleeves and a high neckline for modesty. Kind of gaudy as well but still an eye catching design nonetheless.

You held it up to your body and it looked like it'd be a perfect fit. This isn’t too surprising, but it fit you rather well. You looked straight out of the 19th century but it was cute, you put your hair up really nice and added some of the accessories from the box to complete the look.

You strutted around the house and pretended to be some snobby rich woman on her wedding day.

“Why yes. The orderves were made by Frederic, the renowned chef and the silk table cloths were imported from across the seas….hohoho.”

In the middle of your play time, Erron walked in and saw you in the dress. He paused and observed you up and down. It seemed as though he was a bit upset by the sight of you.

Maybe it was the wrong choice to put on this dress of all things. This was probably the one thing that was unspokenly off limits.

You quickly try to deescalate the situation and explain yourself. That you just thought the dress was pretty and you wanted to fool around in it. That you didn’t think much of it or that he’d be home so soon.

“I’m not mad, y/n. For a second I got a glimpse of my ma again. This dress is perfect on you.”

You twirled around in place and asked him if he truly thought so.

“I’m as honest as I’d ever be right now. What do you say we go down to the chapel right now?”

Thinking he wasn’t being serious, you laughed and began to take the dress off

“You’re not the marrying type, Erron.”

His demeanor turned from a sentimental bliss to a pissed off cowboy in seconds.

What did you mean he’s not the marrying type? He ain’t no saint but he’s been good to you and planned on being so for a long while.

“What did you mean by that, darlin?”

He stared straight and menacingly at you with his drawing hand on his holster. Your next words better be catious.

“N-nothing. Just figured you weren’t into the marriage thing because neither am I. That’s all.”

That’s all? You think you can just wear his deceased mothers wedding gown without any plans of commitment.

He suddenly pulled out his pistol out of his holster causing you to flinch. He didn’t point it at you but he inspected it before putting in a cartridge that was stored on his other hip.

“Dear, I know I ain’t no romantic but if you think for a second I’d let you walk out of this relationship alive…you must be one dumb broad.”

A chilling smile plastered his face as he pointed it towards you

“So what do ya say? You going to come down to the chapel with me or go have tea with the queen in purgatory? …your choice.”

Of course you had to say yes. That proposal was so…romantic? Hey, at least the priest down at the old chapel prayed over your soul and gave you a cross if you so ever shall need it dealing with a devil like him.

[artyandink]

amoralism | two

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Blood, firearms, organised crime, talk of drugs, Agent Dean Winchester, sexual tension, wet dream, awkwardness, unsupportive mom, dramatic sister, consensual crime

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: People I Don’t Like - UPSAHL

materialism

Family dinners took the hell out of you.

They were so awkward, and for what? It was a few hours of pushing food around plates, unwanted conversations and criticisms about your home life and job. Of course your mom wasn’t proud that you were FBI. Were they slightly averse because she carries a truckload of deep seated traditionalism? Definitely.

Your mom, Elena, took a pointed bite of salad as she flitted her eyes disapprovingly between you, your slouching and your less than socially satisfactory manner of eating. Practically assaulting your food with a well timed fork stab and shovelling it in your mouth.

You were a federal agent, not a damn princess.

At least your younger sister had gone to deb balls and beauty pageants and gotten married fresh out of college and landed a job as a secretary for a wealthy CEO in Delaware while you apparently ‘slum it’ and put serial killers behind bars.

Putting your life on the line to make your country a better place. Totally something undesirable, a horrible job, only bozos and hobos would do it.

Your dad, Richard (but he had everyone call him Rick, your mom never listened), was proud of you. More proud than he could put into words. He’d once come to visit you after work to congratulate you on a case that you’d solved (confidential, of course), and his heart burst with pride upon seeing his little girl dressed in a formal suit and storing her government approved handgun.

“Darling?” Your mom trilled in her fancy accent and high pitched voice, which caught your attention. You looked up, halfway through a sip of wine, same as your dad. Holding it wrong. Again, not a princess. “When will you be getting married?”

You almost did a spit take, but swallowed so it wouldn’t happen and coughed as it almost went down the wrong way, Rick doing the same at the exact same time. Your sister, Cassie (short for Cassandra), glanced between the two of you with a look of judgement identical to your mom’s.

They were carbon copies of each other. Same with you and your dad.

“M-Marriage?” You spluttered, still recovering from the notes of chamomile that stung at the back of your throat. Chamomile’s meant to be soothing. “I-I’m a federal - ahem - agent, I don’t have t-time to-” You cleared your throat loudly, “- marry.”

Your mom scoffed, waving you off with a manicured hand. “You blab on about this federal agent business, but we have no clue what kind of cases you deal with.”

“Honey, we can’t push her.” Your dad vouched, and you internally cheered him on, swallowing down a sharp retort with a shovelling down of spaghetti that earned you an eye roll from Cassie and an exasperated sigh from Elena. “Her work is classified.”

“Classified from her family?”

“That’s generally what it means.” You added with a clearing of your throat. “A brief overview of my work in Major Crimes is literally the major crimes. Serial killers, mob bosses, organised crime.”

Your mom gave a loud, false laugh. “Hush, hush. Mafias only occur in dramatised television shows and movies.”

“Elena, you should be proud of our daughter.” Rick sighed, pointedly staring at his wife. “She works to keep everyone safe. Debutante balls and beauty pageants aren’t all the glory.”

And now Cassie was throwing a fit, her blonde hair almost torn out by her pink-painted claws. Jesus, if you went into the office with those monsters? You didn’t even wanna know.

While your mom ticked off your dad for saying such an insensitive thing, you nudged his foot with yours as a silent thank you for defending him. And his foot tapped yours back as if to say don’t apologise.

God, you cherished your dad.

“Don’t pay attention to your mother.” He’d told you in a calm, soft voice as you two steadily worked on the dishes, the quiet noise of the sponge spreading soap suds on the plate not the best ambience but alright all the same. “She’s a little dramatic.”

You raised an eyebrow, getting the itch out from just above your eyebrow using the back of your hand. “A little?”

Rick shrugged, then chuckled. “Alright, you got me there. She’s extremely dramatic. But she’s my wife, and I love her, regardless of whether I think she should take up a role in Broadway.”

“Or a soap opera.” You both shared a laugh, but then you subsided into a rather wistful state of mind. “I just want her to understand that even though I can’t talk about it, I still do something worthy of recognising, right? I mean, not everyone can say they’re one of the best agents Major Crimes has to offer.”

“She’ll come around.” Rick planted a kiss on your temple that felt a little scratchy from his stubble. “I’m so proud of you, y’know that? My little girl’s grown up to be an incredible woman.”

Your phone rang, and you shook your hands off, towelling them before taking out your phone and picking up the call.

‘Took you long enough, princess.’ Agent Winchester’s voice came from the other line, and seems like your dad heard a man’s voice, because his eyebrow raised past what was the beginning of his receding hairline. Princess. It took you back to the night you had your first wet daydream of your case partner, Dean goddamn Winchester, three years ago, working the very case you both were heading now.

Except with much higher stakes.

“You’re far from on my priority list, Agent.” You huffed out a breath, mouthing to your dad to behave as you knew he had the strong urge to find out who exactly you were talking to. And if there was a possibility that he’d need to grab his baseball bat and go warn this guy off breaking your heart.

Federal agent or not, he’d do it. He’d do anything to keep his daughter safe.

‘You’re gonna break this young man’s heart.’

“We’re 35.”

‘Exactly. Young.’ His tone sounded like he was holding off laughter, adopting a voice which resembled Mrs Doubtfire. ‘We’re youthful, innocent little whippersnappers-’

“Agent, if you’re just going to waste my time, you better hang up.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Your dad gave you a look which said damn, don’t do him like that. In truth, neither of you were exactly innocent. You had unholy, R-rated thoughts of each other every time you did so much as think of each other.

You definitely wanted to do him.

You heard Dean clear his throat, getting back on track. ‘Right. Yeah. So, there’s some of our double agents in crime circles that reported back to me after I dropped ‘em a little message. They’re sayin’ that there’s an auction happening at a charity gala in a week, and they’re pawning off this necklace-’

“Yeah, you’re wasting my time.” You scoffed, wondering why he was into getting jewellery. Unless it was to pacify a girl he two timed. Then again, he could probably do it with his panty-soaking, money-winning grin, smooth winks and some cheap pickup line he stole off the Internet.

‘Hey, let me finish. The necklace has a USB chip inside. It contains videos of our syndicate’s work, so if we get a hand on that, we know what we’re dealing with.’ He chuckled at his own brilliance, making you roll your eyes at his ego. ‘And, uh, you’re about to pick apart and criticise my plan by saying that there’s no way in hell that we have the money to buy that thing, so… I talked to Director Singer, and he had a chat with the board and they gave us a pass for as many consensual crimes as needed.’

“So, where do we factor in all this?” You asked, making a mental note of everything he was telling you.

‘That’s the fun part. We got invites to that event, so we’re gonna go together as a doting, wealthy married couple and steal it.’

“It’s not my first undercover gig, so as long as we don’t run into any complications, it could work.”

‘So, I’ll see you at my place tomorrow to discuss logistics. I’ll make sure Sammy- Detective S. Winchester - is out of the house.’

“Alright. Bye.” You cut the call, and spotted your dad smiling proudly at you. His eyes twinkling, and his steady scrubbing hand paused. “What?”

Dean’s back hit the bed, your lips moving up to claim his exposed throat and freckled, exposed chest, making a steady trail to his shoulder and nipping until there was a forming hickey. His breath laboured, mind spinning and body on autopilot. He could feel your nails over his abs, tracing and mapping out every contour, his eyes locking on you, looking like a vision in black lace, a garter and pretty, matching, sheer, thigh-high nylons.

He was always a sucker for a woman in lingerie.

“God, baby, c’mere.” He groaned, hands finding purchase on the backs of your thighs and yanking you forward, settling you closer as his hand teased at the hem of your panties, one sharp flick of his wrist tearing the flimsy material and leaving it beyond repair, drawing a gasp and barely restrained whine from you. He chucked the remains off the bed, that hand, already glistening from having touched your soaked panties, found your cunt, sliding his fingers back and forth before roughly thrusting two up and into your soaked pussy, crooking them just right in order to have you clamping down and already rocking up and down desperately. “So tight. Gonna ride my fingers already, sweetheart?”

“Mmh- mhmm.” Was all you could get out, barely noticing how his free hand reached behind you to unclip your bra, propping himself up so he could latch his mouth onto your nipple and suck, causing you to mewl and let out an even more sinful moan right as his thumb found your clit right as the pad of his index found your g-spot, his third finger joining the party and pressing on it.

Layering and layering and layering until your mind was blank, thighs shaking, mouth open and eyes rolling back until they saw stars and the brief outline of God.

Looks like he does have a beard.

“Dean, g-god-” You were cut off by a moan, biting your lip, and Dean nodded encouragingly, free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, thumbing at your bottom lip to ease it free.

“Waited so long for this.” He murmured. “Gotta hear you. Look so pretty, baby-”

“Dean, wake up!” Dean shot up and spluttered when a glass of ice cold water hit him like a bullet train, finding you to be the perpetrator. No lingerie, just a simple sweater and jeans, your hair pulled into a loose rope braid over your left shoulder.

Still hot. Still infuriating.

“Woah, hey!” He raised his hands in disbelief before running one down his face to rid him of the water dripping down it, then onto his grey-blue flannel shirt. “The hell was that?! And- how did you get in here?”

You put the glass down in frustration, the sound thudding against Dean’s oak dining table, partially wet from the thrown water. “Sam let me in.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

“You’d been passed out at that table when I got here. Tried to wake you up fifty ways. You sleep like a rhino.” You scoffed, but your eyes couldn’t help but trail down to the way the water traced his jaw, down to the curve of his neck and beneath the neckline of his shirt, which exposed a hint of defined collarbone. You felt like an eleven year old seeing a man shirtless for the first time. Except you were going feral for a fleeting glimpse of your colleague’s collarbone, watching the way his flannel clung to his frame.

You were beginning to get the tantalising thought of seeing Dean, washing that gorgeous ‘67 Chevy Impala of his. Shirt off, water dripping down his bare torso and giving you an illegal hit of his v-line. And his abs, tracing every contour that you knew was there. It had your body warming up and your thighs clenching and rubbing.

You hoped to God that Dean didn’t see you doing that.

So instead, you took a random kitchen towel and threw it so it hit him right in the face, and he flinched, grabbing the towel off his face and rubbing the water off in a disgruntled fashion as you moved to grab a beer from the fridge. He was irritated beyond belief. He knew you two had unresolved sexual tension that went back in the history books about five years but that was uncalled for. He was your partner on this mole case, and was heading an organised crime case with you, he deserved some respect-

Your ass framed by those jeans. The denim clinging to your legs that went on for days. Goddamn days, ending in sensible lace-up boots. That sweater with a scoop neckline. Your ass in those jeans, the curve of your pretty neck, the pout of those plump lips. Did he mention your ass in those jeans?

Suddenly he didn’t feel so vexed. And… respect? Who needs respect? Who needs… goddamn. Who… needs…

No thoughts. Head empty.

Sweet Jesus.

“What did you say?” Your head turned to face him, eyebrow raised in the middle of sipping your beer, and he realised that he’d muttered that out loud (while also realising he was staring at your lips touching that bottle rim. He’d never wanted to be a glass bottle more in his life.). He snapped out of it, blotting his flannel gingerly with the towel. Missing the way your eyes locked on how it pressed flush against his chest (you’d never wanted to be a plaid shirt in your life, but times seem to change).

“Nothin’, Agent.” Dean cleared his throat, shaking his head to rid him of the bad, bad, unprofessional thoughts clouding his head. But god, did he need you bad.

He might get through a whole box of tissues tonight.

“Kyle, what do you mean, you don’t know how to use a washing machine?” You asked with a scoff, phone wedged between your shoulder and ear as you spoke to your cousin Kyle, who was in college. Of course, it was the first time he’d ever worked a washing machine on his own and of course, you were the first one he called.

‘It’s not something I’m used to, ok?’ He was scared of your mom, his mom (your aunt Olivia) and Cassie, and you taught your dad and his dad - uncle Tom - how to use the washing machine so Elena wouldn’t go on a rant about men’s uselessness when it comes to household chores.

You took out a paper and pen, writing down a list of instructions as quickly as you could in your nearest handwriting possible, and then you put your phone on speaker, snapped a photo and sent it. “There. All set. I’ll write up a small guide on how to work the rest of your appliances, I’m just knees deep in an investigation.”

‘You’re a lifesaver, I’m indebted to you for the rest of my life.’

“This is a washing machine, not selling your soul. You don’t owe me. Now, see you on Thanksgiving. Bye, Kyle.” You cut the call in time for the doorbell to ring, and you rolled your eyes.

You get no breaks nowadays.

But when you opened the door, you were met with pearly way-too-whites, bouncing ginger hair and shiny blue eyes, complete with what looked like five neon-coloured dress carriers. “Why hello there, babes!” She trilled, sashaying in with her faux fur-trim coat. You rolled your eyes again, but playfully and partially in relief. “I got your message and came as quick as I could.”

“Hey, Dré.” You smiled wearily, closing the door behind her. Andréa May-Reynolds was your best friend since the early days of high school and probably the only person you could tolerate who cared that inexplicably much about their looks. You’d texted her for help with the dress picking for your undercover gig (but you told her it was merely one of your mom’s gatherings as she was a socialite). “Thanks for coming, exorcism I texted you ten minutes ago.”

She waved you off, tutting rapidly. “It’s my job. Whenever a friend has a fashion emergency, I need to be there.” Andréa started rifling through the clothes options she brought. “Ok, so, you mentioned a plus one. Who is he, cause we need to decide whether we want the option Lukewarm, Getting Warmer, Pretty Warm or Smoking Hot.”

You knew that she knew the name you were about to say, so you said it. “Dean Winchester.”

You almost pulled out your firearm with the scream she let out.

“God, Andréa!” You hissed, rubbing your ear while Andréa searched through her selection and pulled out one bright red case.

She just squealed again, giggling. “Dean Winchester? Never thought I’d hear that name again. Smoking Hot ain’t gonna cut it for him, you need the Nuclear option.”

“There’s a nuclear option now?”

“Duh.” She ceremoniously yanked out a dress and held it out for you. “Try it on.”

You took the dress from her with a raised eyebrow and disappeared off into your bedroom upstairs to change. When you looked yourself in the mirror with the dress on, you didn’t recognise yourself. In all honesty, you probably looked ridiculous.

But when you made your way downstairs, trying not to trip on the fabric, you almost did fall when you heard Andréa’s shrill shriek of delight.

Jesus, you thought as you grabbed the railing, she’ll be the death of me.

“Sammy.” Dean had hurried over to Sam’s place, knocking rapidly on the door while holding a lot of tux choices. “Sammy, open up, it’s me! Dean.”

Sam opened the door with a bleary eye, rubbing it. “Dean, it’s ten in the night- Jess, hon, it’s just Dean!” He called back to Jess, who appeared in the doorway with a nightgown on. “I’ll come back in a minute.” Once Jess had returned to bed, Sam turned to his older brother. “What?”

“Which one?” Dean held up the options, looking between them. “I don’t see the difference, but I thought you would. You’re fancy, I just pick what I see first in the closet.”

“You’re hopeless.” The younger Winchester groaned, rubbing his cheek before gesturing to the options. “It’s an undercover gala, you don’t need to properly think about what to wear.”

“I don’t give a damn about the gala, I hate those fancy schmancy, pretentious excuses of a party. They don’t even have beer.” Dean smirked, then chuckled deep. “It’s about who’s going. Agent Hot Chick.”

“We’re still using that code name?” Sam frowned, hands now on his hips. “She’s our coworker.”

“She’s our smokin’ hot coworker.” Dean waggled his eyebrows and dumped the options on the sofa. “Pick one. C’mon.”

Sam browsed quickly through the options, then picked one out with a low groan. “I need to get paid. Here. Two piece tux, can’t go wrong.”

Dean took the tux, examined it, then hummed. “I can hide my gun in here, right?”

“Yeah. Just take it and go, I want to go to bed. With my wife.”

“Sammy, you sly dog.” He clapped his younger brother’s shoulder. “Well, don’t keep the missus waiting, and I’ll be out of your glorious hair.” Before Sam could react, Dean was out of the door and had left the substandard suits on the couch.

“Glorious hair?” Sam muttered, running a hand through said hair.

He didn’t know what had gotten into his older brother, but he didn’t know whether to be amused or irritated.

Probably both.

The gala itself was nothing short of fancy as hell. Almost like out of a spy movie. Marbled floor, cream walls that looked gold in the lighting, tables of hors d’oeuvres that Dean’s stomach instantly felt a magnetic attraction to.

Fancy snacks are still snacks. Back to the story.

A red carpet that made Dean feel like he was walking in the Met or some movie premiere, with everyone dressed to the nines. Eating snacks.

He popped one into his mouth, chowing down on it and finding that the cheese-based delicacy wasn’t so bad, and he swiped a glass of champagne from a server’s tray in order to blend in.

One sip and he was spluttering, putting it back on a tray again, and that’s when he saw you.

He’d call you a snack, but you were the whole damn buffet.

Dean was pretty sure he was looking at a weapon of mass devastation. To his self control at least - there was a smoking crater in the middle of that. And there were some thoughts in his head that definitely wouldn’t be praised by polite society. He’d be damned for it.

You were clad in dark red silk that melded to your figure, almost like waves on your body, like water. Water had never seemed sexier. Your lips were a shade of scarlet, your clever eyes highlighted by the makeup surrounding it. Your knee just poking out from the slit at the thigh, hands clasped delicately at your midsection.

You looked expensive.

And delicious.

It had Dean’s jaw dropping before he picked it back up, straightening the lapels of his tux and trying to think of non-sexy thoughts so he wouldn’t sport a very visible attraction to his fake wife in polite society. He’d gone the full way, even getting a gold-plated ring so he’d look married and expensive but it also wasn’t too costly. He wasn’t made of money.

He didn’t belong in this party. You definitely did, looking like that.

You were in the very place that you’d been trying to run from again. Fancy parties, posh vocabulary and exaggerated accents. Your mother or Cassie would be a social butterfly in this situation. Not you, you were quaking in your borderline painful heels. Feeling all too out of place in the sweeping curtains, silk, satin and chiffon couture dresses and the gales of fake, exaggerated laughter.

Then there he came, Dean frickin’ Winchester, in a two piece tux. Sure, his bow tie was a little wonky (understatement) but the rest of him had your thighs rubbing together. As usual, he donned a suit that stretched over his well built muscles and gave you a good outline of the contours on his chest, powerful thighs looking good to ride in those trousers. Lips pouting every time he chewed on the delicacy he plucked from a side table and forcing thoughts of those very lips devouring you the same way.

He looked expensive.

He looked irresistible.

The image of the normally cocksure and obnoxiously confident Dean Winchester in high society had you swallowing on a dry throat and thinking un-sexy thoughts to rid you of the incredibly unprofessional ones in your head (one of which included him ripping the dress off your body), all of them sending a quiver down your spine. A very, very good quiver. Oh, god, this wasn’t helping.

You felt out of place here. You didn’t belong here, but Dean certainly did in that getup. You were so absorbed in checking out the stretch of the fabric over his biceps that you missed the way he sipped some champagne and gagged on it.

Then you quickly clacked over in your heels, linking your arm with his to sell the act. “Husband.” You said stiffly, and he nodded back.

“Wife.” He replied, swallowing at the adrenaline rush at having Aphrodite incarnate on his arm. Hell, you might just be Aphrodite in disguise. He could never tell.

“Alright, by inside intel, the necklace is kept upstairs in a six inch safe carbon and iron steel alloy safe with a biometric lock. We have no welders on us, and the case is fingerprint security.” You muttered while crunching a breath mint between your teeth. You never know, the locals may demand a kiss and you’d be damned if you got teased for bad breath.

“And how do you propose we breach that, honey?” Dean got out through a forced smile.

You smirked, the plan in your head. “I’ve got a blush compact in my holster. And a tape roll. We can get the print through that easily enough.”

“That holster deserves a medal.” He murmured to himself, then steered her towards a group. “We need to mingle. We’re not single, but blending in and finding a way to go upstairs is best, if you know what I mean.”

Mhmm. You very much got it, and it thrilled you slightly.

You had no time to dwell on the thought as an elderly group of women caught your attention and trilled for you two to come over. “What a lovely young couple.” One crowed, gesturing to the both of you. “Married, I’m assuming?”

Dean drew you closer into his chest, and your hand landed there by impact- a solid goddamn wall. Oh, holy mama. He let out a low chuckle, pumping his eyebrows. “Ma’am, you can’t find a woman this gorgeous and not, to quote Miss Knowles, ‘put a ring on it’.”

“Oh, honey, such a flirt!” You laughed in a posh accent, mimicking your mother’s laugh to the best of your ability while you swatted Dean’s chest. He smirked at the look in your eyes, because goddamn was it obvious that you hated this.

“Darlin’, I can’t help myself around you.” He turned to the other charity goers with a proud smirk, gesturing to all of you. “Can’t keep my hands off my gorgeous wife. Might have to have something off the menu for dessert, if you catch my drift.” He winked at some elderly ladies, who giggled and waved him off.

“Such a charming boy.” One cooed, obviously eyeing Dean up with poorly restrained envy. While you looked around for your target, you missed the way Dean’s eyes travelled down your body in that form-fitting red dress, v-neck, v-back, thigh slit where he knew you had a thigh holster strapped in, all the good stuff. And his eyes were on those scarlet heels.

He was imagining ramming into you with those sexy things on. And that dress, well, it’d be off in second if he had the chance. And that lipstick? Well, it’d be smeared and leaving prints on his neck, chest, abs and- that’s going a bit too unprofessional.

“I’d go as far as to say I had gotten myself a catch.” You affirmed, but inside you were rolling your eyes. You didn’t expect to spend the evening complimenting Agent Winchester of all people. “He’s so firm, ladies.”

Dean laughed deeply, one which you knew didn’t have only your thighs rubbing and pressing together on instinct. “I take immense care of my physical appearance. I’d do anything for my darlin’.”

“And you look handsome.” You straightened his bow tie and made a show of biting your lip and looking him over, which got a sly smirk on his face. All forced, and you knew he couldn’t tell that you actually meant the comment. He looked sexy, not just damn handsome. In fact, words failed you when it came to describing Dean in high society.

Scrubbing your hand with an antiseptic wipe wasn’t an option when he took your hand, lifted to his mouth and kissed your knuckle. Those warm, plump weapons of destruction corrupting your newly purified and professional brain.

Expertly sowing thoughts of them travelling down your neck and sucking on the skin in your dirty mind.

Brain malfunctioning.

Brain.exe has shut down.

Hail whichever deity’s the Almighty because you got the pleasure of feeling this man’s lips on your skin.

You’d felt them on your temple and cheek when you’d last worked a case with him, but after being deprived of his contact for five years now made you like a nun breaking her chastity vow, if they have one.

You had no idea how nunhood worked.

You couldn’t be bothered to find out when this man next to you was robbing you of coherent words or thoughts.

“While you look stunning, my love.” Dean murmured, shooting you a quick wink that would’ve had an average Jane swooning over.

Damn Dean Winchester and his ability to flirt.

Damn Dean Winchester for being a lady killer. Damn him to hell.

“Such lovebirds. My husband Terrance and I were like that once, all over each other. The magic of youth, I dare say.” One lady fawned, but her husband - Terrance - tugged on her arm.

“Edna, we’re in polite and present company, let’s not regurgitate details of our marriage.” He muttered, leading Edna away, which dispersed the other partygoers. You smirked at Dean, fixing the neckline of your dress (which he didn’t waste a moment ogling, which would arguably be in character).

“Shame.” You clicked your tongue, outwardly and inwardly amused. “I liked Edna.”

“I feel for Terrence, if I’m being honest.” Dean snickered, then nudged you. “You ready to go upstairs for a lil’ somethin’-somethin’?” That statement earned a swat to the back of his head, and he shrank away from you in shock. “Woah, hey, not actually going up there to get some, alright? We’re on a federal investigation, I’m not about to bang my partner. Jesus, woman.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Just pretend to be all over me, ok?”

You rolled your eyes, but obliged as Dean steered you both to a guard waiting by the stairs. “Mmh, honey,” You purred, your lips faux-chasing his neck, as Dean veered away from them reluctantly.

“Hey, man, do you have a place where my wife and I can get some privacy?” Dean’s strong hand took a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his side. “Can’t keep my hands off ‘er. Women, am I right?”

“Upstairs, sir.” The guard let you two through, both of you falsely laughing until you reached the top of the stairs. Then you switched the moment you were out of earshot, dropping character.

“Nice job, honey.” Dean drawled, smirking. “Got a firearm under that dress?”

“Of course I do.” You snorted, shaking your head. Dean smirked at you when your head was turned, with a look that said that’s my girl. “What am I, an idiot? C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” You managed to try each door until you found one conveniently locked, so you took a hairpin, bent it and then your leg, kneeling so you could jimmy the thing in the lock, rotating the chassis (at least it might be that, you never paid attention to lock anatomy) and getting the door open.

“Good girl.” Dean muttered under his breath so you wouldn’t hear, stepping inside and shutting the door quietly. There were no secret triggers (you had to mentally steel yourself so you wouldn’t throttle Dean and his constant use of ‘booby traps’), so you just immediately took out your compact powder case and a blush applicator, evenly coating it in powder and dabbing it on the sensor before unhooking the tape roll, using a canine to rip off a piece of tape before placing it on, which successfully opened the lock with an electrical series of beeps. “Nice one. A’ight, now grab that necklace and let’s book it.”

“Not that easy.” You pouted in thought. That sent Dean to unholy places. All while your eyes were focused on the opal-studded jewellery in front of you. “It’s a weight sensor. We need something roughly the same weight.”

“Your heels?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I borrowed these from a friend, no way in hell am I leaving it here.”

“You have friends, sweetheart?” He snickered, but winced slightly when you sharply kicked him in the shin with the heel of your left stiletto. He had to fight the urge to grab the afflicted area and howl because holy hell, physics wasn’t lying about the pressure equation thing.

Pressure equals force over area multiplied by a whole lot of pain.

You looked around, then saw a small crystalline trophy thing. So you grabbed it, then prepared to make the switch. You took a deep breath in and then out, then switched it. And waited. To your disappointment and shock, the weight sensor must’ve been to a T because the pedestal sank and the room flashed red, an alarm going off.

Dean’s hand enveloped yours, tugging you out of the room at breakneck speed (you figured out in this time that you weren’t a dab hand at running in heels and had to awkwardly hop and take them off along the way), pulling you both into a side room when you heard approaching voices. Doors were being opened and rooms checked, so you had to think quick.

Oh, you were sure to regret this later.

Your hands flew to unbutton Dean’s suit jacket, get it on the floor before getting his bow tie undone and shirt along with it, untucking it and letting it hang open. You tried not to get distracted by the kissable canvas of taut, toned muscle that was his chest, while you reached up to your own lips, smearing the lipstick and then transferring some to his without lip-to-lip contact.

He was flabbergasted.

“Sweetheart,” Dean let out a nervous yet rough chuckle, “I love frisky women, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you think this isn’t the right time-”

“Shut up.” You hissed, then grabbed his hand and put it under the silk of your dress, through the slit and onto your thigh. “Now, act like you’re about to kiss my neck.”

Dean short circuited, and so did you. Hands. On legs. Bare legs. Need a bed. Even a table will do- keep it professional.

His eyes locked on the curve of your neck as you let your head tip back, and his hand went on autopilot, cupping the back of your neck. He leaned forward, and your skin was right there, begging to be kissed, but he hovered right there. Dean’s lips were inches away from your heated skin and it was killing the both of you.

His fingers itched to take the zip of your dress, yank it down and see what was underneath.

But even as he was about to give in, shake hands with the loss of his professionalism and ravish you till the sun came up, the door burst open and in came a guard, who instantly muttered an apology at seeing yours and Dean’s more than dishevelled state.

Ay, dios mío.

Wilkins Street Bank was shut down. SWAT teams surrounding it, along with multiple NYPD vans. An officer made his way onto the scene, flashing his badge. He was tall, with black hair and had clever green eyes, wearing a bomber jacket with NYPD blaring on the back in yellow letters.

Flashing his badge like he was in a movie, but made it ten times better. Ten times sexier, really.

“Detective Sergeant Nick Santiago, 67th precinct.” He introduced, looking up at the bank. “We got ourselves a hostage situation, I’m heading the case.”

“No can do, compadre.” One of the 71st huffed out a breath. “We just got off the call with the suits. They’re sending two of their agents over to head the charge. Something about the boys leadin’ the hostage sitch being their jurisdiction.”

“You kiddin’ me?”

“No, sir.”

“Who are we getting?”

“The best Major Crimes has to offer.”

NEXT UP:

“I’m doing my job!” You scoffed, holding the compress over your shoulder. It hurt to move it, honestly, but you’d rather take a banged up shoulder rather than Dean Winchester scolding you.

“And I’m not?” He retorted, hands on his hips. “We’re working this case together.”

“The only reason you’re even in Major Crimes is because daddy dearest pulled some strings.” You seethed, which had Dean bristling.

“That’s not how it went.”

“Then how?”

I’d appreciate a like, or reblog with feedback! Thanks for reading, lovelies!

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[wambos-storytime-corner]

7 Deadly Diapers, Ch. 3: Gluttony pt. 2 (TW: addiction, weight shaming, and body shaming)

“Uhhhh How should I know?” Whitney cocked her eyebrow and in confusion, a chuff of humored air escaped her lips.

“Oh gee, I don’t know. Maybe because my gym bag was right where I left it this morning and now YOU’VE filled it with this! Was starving me not enough?” Ethan steamed.

“Look I really don’t know where all that stuff came from but why don’t you just—?”

“Grab some other clothes? Yeah yeah, I saw what you did to the wardrobe too! My clothes are all gone and all that’s left is shit like this!” Rifling in the bag for a moment he snakes out a pale blue, form fitting, snap-crotch baby onesie but sized up for an adult. Whitney covered her mouth to stifle any giggles. After a stutter she clears her throat.

“Okay Ethan, what’s going on? Where’d you even get that thing?”

“In our closet! Where YOU put it!— no. No! Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m not entertaining any of this anymore. Now if you aren’t gonna tell me where my shit is, I need something to wear to the gym.” He holds out his hand, “give me your sweater. C’mon.”

Whitney realized that this situation was quite confusing for the both of them, but the tone in Ethan’s voice threatened an argument she didn’t have any energy for after their last one five minutes ago. With a sigh, she works the sweater up and off of herself. Ethan watched with a tapping foot and a huff until he saw what laid beneath her bulky, unflattering top layer.

His eyes followed up to her belly button now nestled in a gently slimmer figure, then to her waist which smoothly swayed inward with healthy folds, and finally he was struck by sheer awe as he was introduced to her new, swollen, double D-cup boobs held up by a bra that practically buckled under their weight.

“W-whoa.. uh.. I..” he gulped and stuttered. The entirety of his demeanor shifted suddenly. His lips smacked hungrily as drool pooled in his mouth and started escaping his open jaws.

“Uh, Ethan?.. Hello! Earth to Ethan?!” Whitney snapped impatiently causing her husband to slurp up the string of slobber dangling off his lip and clear his throat. But she noticed where his line of sight was. “What are you looking at you perv..? Ugh do you want the sweater or not?”

Something stirred in his stomach however as he looked at the sweater and his wife’s ample bosom. He was met with a decision for where the conversation and their dynamic would go next. And he didn’t like what his brain craved more out of the two options. His stomach, however, was all too willing to give him away. It snarled hungrily.

GARGLLLLLGLLR!!

“Ahem. Uh.. pardon me.. erm.. about dinner. I’m.. sorry.” He scratched his head in shame.

“You’re what?”

“I’m sorry! Okay? Uh… I should be more.. thankful! And ready to drink— NO! EAT Whatever you prepare for me..” he approaches her. A crazed, desperate and almost addict-like look in his eyes, even going so far as to move her sweater-holding hand out of the way. She put her foot up haphazardly and unintentionally against his crotch to stop him.

“Whoa there, tiger! What’s your angle?” She said, bewildered by his unusual change of heart. But amidst her confusion, a pang of discomfort struck her in both nipples. She winced and grasped her breasts. Pulling her hands away she noticed a white substance left behind from their tips. She was lactating. But the revelations didn’t stop there. She couldn’t help but spot that her husband’s eyes were locked onto the puddle of rich milk in her palm like a junkie, ready to relapse.

Curious, she lifted her palm towards his face and after a terse moment of silent internal conflict… Ethan began to lap up the milk like a newborn kitten. Whitney’s thoughts began to wander somewhere a bit more devious watching her critical, body-shaming husband desire her breast milk so eagerly. Until finally she had her plan come together. A wry smile wrapped over her face.

“Oh yeah~? You want these puppies that bad? Gosh… You sure don’t look the part though…” she sultrily nods towards the gym-turned-diaper bag, letting her diabolical plot begin to unfold, “You know what I want you to put on. Chop chop, mister! The gym can wait…”

[merwgue]

Okay, but can we talk about how Nesta is so autistic-coded and the Inner Circle is just... completely missing the memo? COMMING FROM AN AUTISTIC PERSON🥳

Look, I’m not saying Sarah J. Maas intended to write Nesta as autistic, but come on. You’ve got a character who struggles with social interactions, needs her own space to recharge, has intense, specific interests (ahem, reading), and who’s constantly being misunderstood by the people around her. If that doesn’t scream autistic-coded, I don’t know what does.

1. Social Interactions? Nope.

Nesta’s social skills (or lack thereof) are a big flag. She’s always being criticized for not fitting in, not behaving “the right way,” or not being all warm and fuzzy with everyone. Sound familiar? People on the autism spectrum often get labeled as “cold” or “aloof” when in reality, they just don’t vibe with the social expectations around them. And what do the Inner Circle do? They constantly expect her to be like them instead of trying to understand her on her terms.

Feyre’s over here like, “Nesta, why are you so difficult?” And Nesta’s probably thinking, “I literally just need some space from all you over-hugging, over-talking, too-much-energy people.” But instead of giving her the tools to communicate or cope better, they just drag her to a cabin in the woods. Sure, lock her up. That'll definitely fix everything.

2. Sensory Overload, Anyone?

Nesta’s reactions to stress and overstimulation are spot-on. The whole time she’s in the Night Court, it’s just noise, noise, noise. Between Feyre’s incessant meddling, Cassian’s loud warrior energy, and Rhysand being... well, Rhysand, it’s like Nesta’s surrounded by sensory overload. So what does she do? She shuts down. Classic move when the world is too much.

But does anyone ask, “Hey, maybe this isn't about her being rude, maybe she’s just overwhelmed?” Nope. Instead, it’s more like, “Nesta’s broken, let’s force her to train and socialize until she magically becomes like us!” Not how it works, guys. Not at all.

3. Obsessions Aren’t Just a “Phase”

Nesta’s love of reading could be seen as a deep special interest, which is a common autistic trait. And yet, what does the Inner Circle do? They act like it’s some sort of escape or avoidance mechanism rather than a source of comfort and grounding for her. Of course she’s going to retreat into books! They make sense, they don’t demand anything from her, and they’re not trying to change her every two seconds.

4. Bluntness? It’s Called Honesty.

Nesta’s “rudeness” is really just brutal honesty. She doesn’t sugarcoat things. And why should she? In her mind, it’s more logical to say things as they are. But the Inner Circle constantly misinterprets this as hostility or coldness. Why? Because they’re all about emotional theatrics, and they just don’t get someone who communicates in a more direct, matter-of-fact way.

5. Let’s Talk About the Whole “Locking Her Up” Thing

So, Rhysand’s big idea for dealing with Nesta is basically to isolate her in a house she doesn’t want to be in and force her to follow his "recovery" plan. Yeah, because forcing someone who is already struggling to conform to your idea of healing works so well. The whole thing feels like they’re punishing Nesta for not fitting their mold. It’s like, “Nesta, you’re not behaving the way we want you to, so we’re going to fix you.” Cue the eye roll.

What They Should’ve Done Instead:

Instead of forcing Nesta to be like them, maybe — just maybe — the Inner Circle should’ve, oh I don’t know, accepted her for who she is? Maybe they could’ve recognized that she doesn’t process the world the same way and that’s okay. Give her the space she needs, stop trying to mold her into their version of “normal,” and for the love of everything, stop treating her like she’s broken just because she’s different.

Maybe Nesta just needs some sensory breaks, a quiet space, and people who actually listen to what she needs. Instead, she gets dragged through the mud, labeled as a problem, and forced into a version of recovery that only works for everyone else.

So yeah, the Inner Circle missed the memo — and that memo was: Nesta’s not the problem; their complete lack of understanding is.

Ty @fenrysmoonbeamswife for the idea!!! I loved your posts pookster

[fttlouie]

Significance of props in LFCT

I have been obsessed with lfct and its ruining my life. I need ep 7 and 8 now, today, NO YESTERDAY !! The best part is how well directed it is, rather, the direction in this show feels more intentional than other bls i have watched in a long time. The layers in the show, and the fact that the show trusts the audience to pick up on things is what makes me like it more. So I get frustrated when people complain it is too "unnecessarily confusing", isn't that the whole fun, to discover the story ourselves rather than have everything spelled out to us like we are just horny teenagers waiting for the two main characters to make out? (although that's exactly what I'm waiting for, but you get my point) Anyway, I'm sure there are valid criticisms, but I gotta defend this show because of my brainrot rn. :)

I wanted to compile a list of props that might have symbolism, can someone please help me organise and make sense of it. :)

1... Cigarettes: I found it odd that the show used a tracking short at the beginning and the first main character we see on our screen is Hyunwoo. The first conversation is also about cigarettes. The two students are punished by their teachers for smoking, and HW himself is hiding a pack behind a book. This immediately pointed to me that cigarettes must be a symbolism for something. Cigs or cigar, typically in many queer films or films with queer subtexts, have been a metaphor for homosexuality, due to the *ahem* phallic *ahem* shape, indicating to us that when two characters smoke together, they're probably fucking. Its definitely untrue in the context of show because we have seen that DH does not smoke but his dad does. So my next interpretation is that it represents abuse or trauma. Im going to interpret as whenever there is a presence of cigs = presence of abuse/trauma. We have not seen HW smoke but he holds the packet behind a book, aka hides his trauma from others, and put it in his left coat pocket, aka his heart. The two students are getting dragged by the teacher in the first shot, probably to get abused, hence the smoking talk. Whenever the dad beats up other kids besides JY and DH inside the taekwondo studio, he always says that it is because they were smoking. One of the friend and JY quit smoking because they were teaching children (they say that before DH comes to the funeral) because they do not want to transfer their trauma to kids, so quitting cigarettes represents stopping the cycle of abuse. They smoke together because despite us not seeing the two other friends being beaten by DH's dad, because they came from same, school, neighbourhood and time when corporal punishment was legal, they probably share the abuse. JY just came back from crying at his abuser's funeral so it feels fitting for him to smoke and reminisce his trauma. The dad is smoking indoors when DH confronts him for hitting JY. The dad and his friends are always smoking when they call DH and JY for their late night errands, the director could easily have them just be drunk, not smoke. But because they are all complicit in DH's abuse, they smoke along with the dad. I hope they bring up cigs in final two eps so we can see if its consistent. Its also fucked up that they used such a prominent queer symbolism with an abuse metaphor. Genius.

2... Vehicle: This one is also very consistent throughout the show. I am thinking the car represents their lives. JY uses the taekwondo van from his work. The key features of this vehicle is that it is bright, it is used to service others (picking up kids, dropping them off), it is rented, and it is big. Despite being apart from DH, JY is a positive person and his personality stands out brightly. If we look at JY's story so far, we can see that he is mostly a selfless person because he stood up for his friend who was getting hit, and for DH, and he probably has not changed much since that time as shown by the van. It is pretty sad to say but JY also probably does not have a life of his own, he is constantly influenced by people he loves and people around him. He works for his friend so he is using his friend's car (he returns the keys back to her in ep 6 before going to DH). It also means that the way he lives is similar to DH's dad (minus the abuse obv) as both JY and DH's dad drive a taekwondo van. Probably why DH does not want to ride in the van aka live a life that is so close to the image of his father. The taekwondo van had to go, and I'm glad it did. Side note but their first few kisses often happened on the back seat of DH dad's taekwondo van. Pretty symbolic that it was not on the front seat as both of their lives are being driven DH's absent father. JY also has never owned a car. The second car which he rented before going to see DH is heavily influenced by DH. Despite still being big and bright, it is a new and expensive car. It is white, just like DH's car. The fact that is rented also may imply that the life that JY and DH share may be temporary. I am scared. Hopefully he buys a cheap, bright car soon after everything is resolved and takes DH out. Make it more permanent JY, please. DH's car is expensive. Probably the only stand-out feature. His life right now is for show. He also has a lot of money. DH's car also has to go, start walking, get it towed away, crash it idc. DH and HW currently share a life together (despite the ambiguousness of their relationship) therefore they share a car multiple times, DH wants JY to drive his car aka, come to life. All DH desperately wants is to live his life with JY so this man keeps asking about whether JY can drive well, aka "whisk me away safely, thank you".

3... Food: Love. Thats what I think it represents. DH initiates the act of giving love first. He prepares food for JY. Always. And JY does not get a chance to return it, which is why he keeps saying that he wants to cook sometimes. He finally gets a chance to make food for DH and they eat together. JY also wants to eat with DH's dad, he says 'it would nice to eat together often' during ep 1. DH is uncomfortable because he does not have love for his dad. JY's parents pay for his meals but never eat with him in the show, they pay for his love aka they love him but never directly (idk what kind of twisted love it is). We never see them share the love between them last time because JY never gets around to making the lunchbox before the final test. We are also never shown the food they eat at the restaurant that JY chooses after they are reunited, their love is a shrodinger's cat at this point, we will never know if they shared a meal there together or not. We also see a conflict when HW wants to have a nice meal with DH after he books a restaurant. DH does not want to eat with him aka share his love with him. We never see them eat together despite going to a restaurant with their friends. We see a menu but never food. A twisted love once again when we connect money with food, representing what is going on with DH and his current friends.

4... Chapstick: No idea. Please let me knowww :(

Then there is the glaring ones like telephone, snow, taekwondo and alcohol. Is there any other, I want to talk about this show forever...

[youkaiyume]

So, Rise of the Beasts!!

I saw it twice of the weekend, and I want to put down my honest thoughts.

Overall, I had a great time and I definitely think it's worth watching. Ignore the critic reviews for some reason they are offended that a Transformers movie exists to sell toys. You know, their sole purpose since the very beginning of inception. But OF COURSE I have THOUGHTS so...

Spoilers under the cut!

I liked the human characters for the most part. Noah's sudden onboard motives for going with the autobots to Peru was not as convincing but adventure needs to happen so I gave it a pass.

Mirage is like, DTF with Noah. Like he is SO ready for that tiny bf bff. It's obvious that Bee spoke so much about Charlie (cuz it seemed he was the only one who did talk positively about humans in their group) that Mirage was just. HIS BODY WAS READY.

CHARLIE WAS MENTIONED!!! AHHHHH!!! That was the one tiny smidgeon of a crumb that I wanted and they gave it to me. Granted it was implied when Optimus says "I know one was good to you, Bee" But I was told that the Latin America dub had him say Charlie's actual name. There was a SCENE that was cut out according to the Hollywood Reporter--that Bumblebee had also pulled out a polaroid pic that Charlie took of them together from the first movie here to show OP. HE'S BEEN CARRYING AROUND HER PICTURE ALL THESE YEARS I DIE WHY DID YOU CUT THIS OUT!!!

Mirage's abilities seem very arbitrary. And I do not like this. He can turn into several alt modes which seems to be only a thing that he can do... he can mass shift--which I know mass shifting is a thing but when he turns into a truck to sneak past the museum security I was like??? I was always under the impression that the bots could turn into a vehicle relative to their own actual size so this just confuses me. There is supposedly an earlier cut of the film where it was more clear that the trailer was another illusion. which I wish they kept in. Also when he becomes Noah's symbiote suit at the end?? Like, as a shipper and rule of cool I am into it, but as a person who wants rules to ground my science fiction I don't like how Mirage is just a swiss army knife for the writer's convenience. It feels lazy instead of taking the time to actually worldbuild. Nobody else can do these things.

The arbitrary mass shifting of him being as big or as small as he wants (like when he becomes Noah's exosuit) really falls apart when they keep insisting that they need the humans because only they can fit into small spaces. Well, clearly not cuz you can just do it yourself. AGAIN, PLEASE BE CONSISTENT WITH YOUR RULES.

Airazor x Elena. Anyone else????

speaking of which, I am very upset about what happens to Airazor. And we never even got to see her transform. tragic.

Optimus sure was a negative nancy which--I understand why but I hope they ease up on edgy "i will rip everyone's faces off" Optimus because it feels disingenuous to his character to keep it going for too long. Like I get it, they killed your fave child so I will forgive you but also I want more of "Be strong enough to be gentle" Optimus. Not the edgelord Bayverse Optimus that they are clearly going for cuz the know certain :ahem: fans like that.

Beeeee. They put him out of commission which again, according to interviews they did just so they could make sure he doesn't steal the spotlight and give a chance for the other characters to shine lmao. He is too powerful. But also because we shots of him in the trailers, I was not too worried about Bee staying out of commission. But goddamn when if I still wasn't hyped as hell when he made his comeback. 10/10 he proves he's still the GOAT.

I hate Pablo/Wheeljack. No, after seeing the movie my opinion of him did not improve in fact it got so much worse. His design was the LEAST of his problems. Every moment he was on screen was deeply cringe. And he barely did anything!! He could have not been in the movie at all and it wouldn't have made a difference and I genuinely believe it would have been a better film. All this hullaballoo over Pablo and this is what we got. Wheeljack fans lost hard after all that defense I'm sorry this ain't it.

Hey speaking of bots that barely got any lines or screentime, wtf was up with Rhinox and Cheetor? My boys got shafted :(

There was a moment where OP is asking the bots if they detected the terrorcons and Arcee WHO IS SITTING in the pablo van was like "lol nope" and I was like GURL how could you, you're in a van. And it made no sense because don't you also have an altmode??? Shouldn't you be scouting outside to cover more ground???

I firmly believe the only had Arcee sitting in there like a dumb duck because they wanted Wheeljack to make a dumb joke in the original cut about how it was a long time since she was inside him. UGHUGHUGH.

Did I mention how glad I am that they cut the majority of Wheeljack's screentime since it was so awful especially his and Arcee's implied romance? Especially since they killed off the other femmes so the only one we got now has to have a mandatory romance. No thanks. Glad that nonsense is gone.

The Maximals' robot modes were very minimal. and they went by so fast I never got a good look at their designs.

I loved how the Maximals were harmoniously living with the native tribe--and speaking their language!

Scourge's face reveal seemed to be treated like it was a big deal but when we saw him it was just... guy without his wig on. Literally the surprise is that he is bald.

Noah x Mirage is very strong good. I have no doubt the fandom will be all over it since they seem to eat up BL romance much more readily and I am all for it. They also have all the great ingredients for it--flirting, drift compatibility, self sacrifice for the other. Another human x transformer ship for the books.

I'm sure there are some ppl who like the ending. but I.... did not. I do not want to see G.I.Joes in my transformers I'm sorry. I don't want the return of military propaganda or more introductions to several human characters that take away from the transformers. I don't want to see them exploited or used for our own human affairs--even if it's a fictional cult-- when they could be literally fighting Decepticons or Unicron or whatever. People might have wanted them in Bayverse cuz it was heavily skewed Military in those films but I don't want to see it again. It was a terrible, dark time. the Joes might be presented as good guys but I don't trust the military in general and I don't see their motives as altruistic--especially if their goal is to use them for their own purposes. Why would they help them get home? They wouldn't, if just to keep their best weapons--and Noah is bait. He is bait and he will fall for it hook line and sinker because they are bribing him with his brother's healthcare and the fact that he is struggling to find work elsewhere.I hope if they are to be involved at all it will be relegated to characters here and there but they stay in their own movies if they have to ride on Transformers coattails to revive an irrelevant struggling franchise.

There was minimal human injuries/death and I appreciate that. They did the DBZ thing where they took their fight to remote locations. This probably won't keep up if they introduce the Joes :/

Overall, 8/10. I had a fun time. I didn't love it as much as Bumblebee but it was definitely miles better than Bayverse (a low bar I know). The action was clear, the characters likable, the CGI mostly stellar. I have hope that they will bring back Charlie maybe. But hey, I took my parents to it the second time around and my Mom liked Mirage and my Dad did not fall asleep so I will consider that a stamp of approval.

[sunnytastic]

Everytime I engage with another fandom, I am reminded of how much of a chiller environment Sunnyblr is. For all of Sunnyblr's faults, we really do have it good, all things considered. Here, we take differences in opinions in a relative slide. Sure, we have our popular ships (ahem, Macden), but no one is competitive or feels that the existence of one ship negates the existence of another. Hell, I swear we are all one post away from agreeing that The Gang are in a queer platonic and romantic polyamorus relationship.

But most importantly, we embrace the toxicity of our characters. We don't pretend The Gang fits into real-world morality- or more accurately, we don't care. Fiction (and the real world) is way more fun when you realize everyone is an idiot who has done bad things. It doesn't mean they are unworthy of love or should be criticized to death. It just means they are human- and in our case, very shitty humans who zero have regard for anyone but themselves.

So yeah, shout out to everyone who continues to make a Sunnyblr a genuinely nice place to manically theorize, sprout nonsensical bullshit, and just exist in an echo chamber of pure affection for our favorite show.

[elvendorx]

The Remus and Sirius height discourse has become so loaded. Today I saw a post claiming that viewing Sirius as taller than Remus means that one supports jkr? (What?)

Canonically, Sirius is taller than Remus. That's just a fact. And I understand that some people don't care about canon, and that's cool!! But even if you don't give a flying fig about canon, that does not make the view that Remus is taller than Sirius any more valid than the reverse, and you can't go around telling other people that they are wrong, or worse, bad people for not agreeing with a version of the character that exists in your head?

Look I get that it would be annoying to have people inject an "ahem actually..." on posts that are clearly based on headcanons. I get that. But that is the natural consequence of taking the names/tags of characters from popular fandoms and using them for your own OCs, and the fact that these fans jump to "they must be horrible people!" as opposed to "they might be confused about my relationship with canon" is... something.

As someone who is neurodivergent, I find that the fandom that claims to love diversity has very little tolerance for people who don't understand the unwritten rules about when canon is and isn't allowed to be used as a reference point. (Somehow, we still hate Snape because canon, but all other canon is garbage?) Sorry for the rant, I'm just tired and confused.

don't be sorry at all, i think this kind of thing needs to be talked about because at its worst, this rhetoric is an attempt at emotional manipulation and censorship. nobody is ever going to 100% agree even with the exact same words on a page - this is the entire literary criticism field, most of the time variation in readings are a good thing but this isn't even a "reading", because it has no bearing on the characters, they just are or aren't a certain height, so it becomes a tool for personal agendas - "if you think sirius was tall, you're a fascist". even though those two facts are not connected, because sirius' height is never anything more than a physical description of him. and it's glaringly obvious that the people who fixate on this aren't interested in sirius as a character, just as a vehicle for their own fantasies/validation.

this is the problem that comes from people trying to put dynamics & personalities that they want to see onto characters who don't fit those moulds. the height thing doesn't actually matter, it doesn't change anything in the narrative, but it summarises the attitude towards canon which for me summarises critical reading & reading comprehension as a whole within hp fandom. i don't think canon is perfect and i don't think it's sacred but i don't understand why you would engage with something that you have to twist out of recognition in order to enjoy it.

part of the fun of fandom, for me, is finding the limits and boundaries while maintaining recognition. at the very least, even if you change everything else, character has to be consistent. you have to recognise who you're working with otherwise what are you doing here? other authors are writing and have written exactly what you want, so why do you need this character with a history and motivations and a distinctive personality to be the ideal version of you/the partner you want (because lbr, that's it!). i'm not saying that people can't use their imaginations and bend things, i do it, and people can do that by bending characters out of recognition if they want. i don't get any enjoyment out of that or see the point in it but i'm not going to try and stop people. it's the flagrant dismissal of logic and evidence that i think is a more dangerous stance when applied more widely.

it's ALWAYS the people who want remus to be taller and sirius to be tiny who have 10 million personal reasons why they need it to be that way around despite it being clear that sirius is specifically tall, and remus is of such average and nondescript height that it's never mentioned. it's nobody else's responsibility to validate anyone's projections onto a fictional character, and your personal reasons for wanting a character to behave in a way that they wouldn't isn't anybody's responsibility. i don't think these kind of people see the irony in how they're trying to force their view on everyone else even though there's direct contradiction to it, yet are claiming that people who go with that feature from the text are violent fanaticists or something.

when you question why it makes such a difference to the "big strong remus and baby boi sirius" people, it comes down to "it's cuter" or "it allows me to simplify m/m relationships into tough and cute and use physical attributes as symbols rather than thinking complexly about personality traits and dynamics." the height thing is basically one step away from top/bottom discourse and just because someone identifies as queer or relates to a character doesn't make it unproblematic. if you need to see a character who represents your specific circumstances, find one or make an original one, imo. it's not an entire fandom's job to validate individuals and it's manipulative to suggest that someone else seeing a character according to the way that character is explicitly described is an act of hatred or violence or something.

apologies if this turned into a rant of its own - i don't CARE that sirius is tall but the attitude towards minor, basic facts is wild to me. it makes no difference to me but idk why you would take being taller than snape away from sirius bc he clearly enjoys being able to tower over him. if i did want to argue that sirius' height makes a difference in the text, i'd say that sirius is tall because padfoot is also a large creature and there seems to be some kind of reflection of the human in animagus forms, whereas the whole werewolf thing is something inflicted externally rather than something that comes from within the person so remus' human height isn't reflected by his lycanthropy. but that's a whole other question i would have to research more.

[lightofraye]

Portrait Of A Woman

Yes, another version of this. Deal. 😆

I'm always changing and growing, revising my life and what I'm blogging about. I joke that I'm a gossip columnist (because I do refer to other celebrities besides Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles), but it's only to share my other interests.

So what are my interests? The purpose behind this blog?

Many things. I title it Ramblings Of A Writer for a reason. I write and boy, do I ramble!

I’ll also be redoing my masterlists to make it easier for folks to find certain posts. I won’t be redoing posts—no need to do that, but perhaps reposting information being redone. Like “Version 2 with new stuff” or better organized information and having those on the masterlists instead.

Let's begin with me:

Who am I?

My online nickname: Raye

Pronouns: She/her

Astrology: (Western) Pisces, (Eastern) Metal Monkey

Country: United States

I am anti (and I make no apologies):

Anti Danneel/Anti Elta

Anti Misha

Anti AAs

Anti Destiel

Anti Hellers

Anti Cockles

Anti Abuse

My ‘custom’ tags:

#Jensen Supportive (I believe I'm the originator)

#Music Choices by lightofraye

#lightofraye on abuse

I also frequently use #Jensen Concern, though I am not the originator (like I thought I was!).

What I’m reading:

Fictional: The Dresden Files, currently Battle Ground and Peace Talks

Non-fiction: The Body Keeps The Score

Where am I at with my writing:

BA Script: Judging by the math… 1/2 of the way through. Loving it! First draft!

Pre-plotting my horror/thriller

Vikings? VIKINGS!

So many more planned. Someone knock out my muse. 😅

What am I watching?

Burn Notice (finally getting the last season!)

Daredevil (again!)

Once Upon A Time

Supernatural (forever and ever, ahem)

The Good Place

A Discovery of Witches

About this blog:

I really, honest to gods, did not start this blog to be an anti. I know my anons would disagree with me and claim I always “hated” Danneel, but that just isn’t the truth. I came to Tumblr to find a new kind of social media as I was feeling soured by Facebook, disliked how Twitter had changed, escaped Livejournal years ago, not a fan of Reddit, and the “newer” social media sites weren’t my thing. Plus I’ve kept seeing hilarious screenshots from Tumblr on Facebook and decided to check it out!

I initially started by following pages about Supernatural, Sam and Dean Winchester, the actors Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. I did not go seeking anti-Danneel posts; they more or less fell into my lap. When I started reading a few posts, something clicked in my mind, explained why I was struggling with how I felt about her. I kept analyzing her behavior for a long while, what she said, and thought maybe something was being seen by fans that wasn’t being seen by me.

The explanations made sense. I felt I could breathe again. That’s when I remembered the least recognized method of abuse: emotional and mental. That fit Danneel to a T. Especially the more I looked into what she’s said and wrote over the years and saw how Jensen behaved around her in videos and photos. Even when they were supposedly trying to push the “happy couple” narrative, it just did not look true. Especially given Jensen’s talent as an actor! If he couldn’t even fake being happy or in love with her….

So I’m an Anti-Danneel. I’m also Anti-Misha for his behavior over the years, towards Jared, towards Jensen, the lies he’s peddled and keeps peddling. (For instance, no, Castiel would not have ‘fucked’ Dean upon pulling him out of Hell. No, CW was not being homophobic.)

I am absolutely very pro-Jared and pro-Jensen. I know, I know…. “But Raye, you’ve written posts criticizing Jensen! How can you be pro-Jensen??”

My answer is a variation of this: “Because I care! I am not blind to the flaws of either men! I am wildly concerned about Jensen, about what seems—to me—as excessive drinking, ‘empty’ eyes, unhappy and stressed smiles.”

For the vast majority of the AAs, it seems I’m not pro-Jensen if I don’t see him as flawless, a god upon the perfect pedestal, the Ken doll That breaks my heart. He is flawed. He is imperfect. I see more than just the pretty mask. I want to see and know the man. He isn’t just a beautiful trophy for us to ogle.

He’s caught in a rock and a hard place and I acknowledge that hard. It’s just only the negativity is seen and not the love and support. 😕

What can I tell you about me?

I could say so much. I’m the third child of a family of four kids, and the only daughter. (So that was fun.) I’m a gamer, read comics (still read a few, such as ElfQuest), got into reading fantasy books (Dragonlance’s War of the Lance was my first!), have a massive interest in psychology, in wanting to understand the human mind. I’m fluent in two languages—English and American Sign Language.

Ah, that last one might surprise some folks. No, I am not deaf—but my parents, two of my three brothers, and everyone on my mother’s side of the family are. I half-joke that my first language is ASL, not speaking with a voice. It’s not a joke though; it’s more or less accurate.

I’m a writer. I’m working on several screenplays, have plans for novels, dabble in poetry. I’m an amateur artist—have sketched with pencil and Photoshop. I haven’t done so in a while, but I love art. I do a lot under the creative umbrella, and most of it is as an amateur—photography, wishing to learn pottery, and so forth.

I’m a mother. I’m divorced (happily so, trust me). I have born children of my body and I have children of my heart. I have suffered loss deeply profound that I wish people would talk more about so we all realize we aren’t as alone as we fear.

I’m an advocate for better, stronger laws against abuse, of the protection and services for survivors. Largely because I’m a survivor, but also because I give a damn about people. I’ve experienced it all, starting from childhood to my (thankfully) now-ex-husband. I am hoping to start a series of reels explaining the red flags of abuse, how to recognize them, how to get out if you are in an abusive situation, and what organizations exist to contact for help (if any do exist). Keep an eye out for those when I start posting them!

A link to the ever-in-progress masterlist.

First masterlist, largely anti Danneel posts. (My first true anti Danneel post, highly recommend reading it. I am reworking it.) Second masterlist, more anti Danneel. Third masterlist, assorted posts. The links will be defunct due to changing my Tumblr name. So just switch out rrahuntersblog to lightofraye and it'll work. I'm reworking those too! Bear with me! My first About Me. My second About Me Redux.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

As a passionate lover of David 8, I am enjoying your work, "Heartwired". There isn't a lot of fan-written works for him, but your characterization is well done. I admire your writing style and the way you make the reader feel motivated to find out what's next for the protagonist's agenda.

My only critic is that he lacks the creepy undertone to his character. I haven't watched Prometheus yet so I'm not sure how he was pre-Covenant, however, I feel like his fascination with the reader could be explored (in a scientific/creative standpoint).

Overall I hope you finish the story with love, and there is no rush to completing it. ❤️

I appreciate this very much and I know you're on anon so I am not sure if you're willing to discuss but I had a few things I wanted to say/ask;

Spoilers ahead for my David 8 fic so read it first if you don't wanna be spoilererered

1. I feel like watching her dreams every night (ch 1), deciding to "take over" for your husband (ch 1), including crafting a cock that matched your dreams (ch 2, continuing to watch her dreams after she's woken up (ch 3), jerking off on her cryo pod (ch 2), and sniffing her panties (ch 5) are all pretty creepy. Plus there are more in further chapters you'll be seeing in the coming weeks!

2. You as the reader get to know the depth of his obsession from his perspective, which you can likely feel is not exactly ahem, healthy.

3. This is a slow burn, and I write smutty parts as treats to myself for making it to a point where it would fit story-wise, and I promise it will get a lot more possessive/obsessive/smutty as we get further in. Davis can't exactly let the mask slip right now as he's working to make the protagonist fall for him. This will take time unfortunately, but it is building up I assure you.

4. You say his obsession could be explored, which I am trying to do within the slow-burn territory, and I want to know if you have any specific thoughts of what you'd like to see. I love suggestions and assistance with writing a story we can all find joy in, and I'm open to hearing whatever you have in mind!

[maythearo]

Ahem ahem, If I may rant a bit about Little Nightmares 3 with my thoughts on the trailer announcement + my predictions on how the game will go... cause I'm still freaking out and I'm so excited for this

Kind of a deserted, post apocalyptic theme, possibly associated with dangers of radiation or toxic waste of some sorts? I assumed because of Alone's gas mask design especially + Low's design is very post apocalyptic-like, and also from some of the enemies in the trailer. (Specifically about the obviously unnaturally big doll monster, and the bunch of human hands that crawled out of the sewer kinda resembling a humanoid spider creature for all we can see, maybe some of the enemies have been affected by whatever bigger danger this story may try to convey. I mean, characters from previous games were also unnatural looking, but for what I remember their designs and stories were fit of that very dark supernatural theme, as for this one in contrast seems to be going on a different kind of territory IN the means of supernatural, mixing a bit of more ""realistic"" tones to it)

The official podcast "the sounds of nightmares" seem to be going on a scientific/psychological evaluation and or experiments route, which I think grounds the story a little more, but at the same time I have NO idea how its narrative is going to relate to the game's itself lol something about dreams... hmmm

There is mirror travelling ig, that's super cool, but so far, I got no idea what it means 👍

I thought it would be a risky decision to leave the primary claustrophobic environment of the previous games and chose to go for a brighter, more "open world"(?) look for the main characters to adventure on, but at the same time, this setting can still be well explored on a horror perspective, despite me not seeing much of this theme being executed at all in any media I've consumed so far lol. I imagine it could be a great opportunity to contrast jumps between the game's levels, as in one stage you're out on the open desert and the other you fall into a darker area to explore through

Although I have my criticisms on some of Supermassive games' stuff, I'm still very fond of their work and takes on horror videogames in general, so I trust little nightmares 3 is in very good hands 👍

The ost is going to be awesome, the song in the trailer gave me goosebumps ngl

I believe we're not going to/are barely going to see Mono or Six in this story. Their arc was pretty well constructed beggining to end, but the lack of appearances of the two, at least for me, is not a negative thing at all! I think Low and Alone's story is going to focus on the world building through different lenses rather than exploring further what we already knew before. Mono and Six may be vaguely mentioned but not crucial to the sequel ig

Just a side note I'm a terrible game theorist, so if I said stuff that clearly contradicts something in the trailer or franchise, I am very sorry, I can't help I'm very inattentive most of the time, this is embarrassingenfjenfjebrk😫

I watched a full gameplay of the first and second game like, years ago- and only now I got the opportunity to play LN by myself. I finished the first game, went half of the dlc (I'm taking a break from it bcs it's so difficult for me and the switch version takes almost a full minute to reload after I die..) and I'm currently mid way through the second, although I still remember most of the stuff that will happen in its story. I'm following the episodes of the recent podcast, and I'm going to seach for the webcomic for me to read, yahooooo!!!

NOBODY asked for this post but I DO NOT CARE, little nightmares fascinates me from story, to gameplay, to visuals. It's one of a kind on its storytelling and art. Just my thing and I care about it very much. But that's it thanks for listening to my insanity arc

[gaybitchfx]

HOLA SOY DORA

DORAAA

BOOOOOTTSSS

C’MON DORA

DODODODODDO DORA

DODODODODO DORA

DODODODODOD DORA

DODODODODO DORA

DORA DORA DORA THE EXPLORER

DORA-

I got an illumi request

I ain’t fixing any typos so deal with it mkay

Sooo

Reader is like really bubbly and hyper ‘n shit and likes to wear really girly and pink pastel outfits and when reader and illumi stand next to each other they are 100% opposites

Kinda like

Kinda like us🥹

Ahem anyway-

While reader and illumi were out on a date someone called out how the reader dressed and how a man shouldn’t be dressing like he does

And that just ruins readers while ass mood for like a week, he’s less hyper and bubbly doesn’t wanna dress like usual and doesn’t really wanna go out to places with illumi anymore

SO

Wanna know how illumi comforts him ?

Kills the bitch.

Reader didn’t know he was dead till him and illumi were cuddling on the couch watching TV together and it says blah blah blah is dead and reader is like “huh..I wonder who did that..” and illumi is smirking and shit and then is like “hey you want some ice cream ?” And since ice cream heals everything reader is happy again to his old self❤️🫦

-🍓 Character(s): Illumi

-🍓 Type of reader: M!Reader

-🍓 Category: Sfw

-🍓 Warning(s): Being criticized for what you wear

-🍓 Note: We look iconic just like those two houses (the black and pink house)

-🍓 Edited: ❌

You two were the complete opposites of each other.

Illumi would rather wear dark-themed clothing, never in his life touched a color that was too bright for the eyes. You would wear pastels or anything bright that fits your daily mood, even if it was too much.

When standing next to each other it was like coal placed next to an ornament, not very compatible looking. But they do say opposites attract one another yes?

“Oh illumi look!” You exclaimed and quickly went up to a window that showed puppies playing with each other. “They’re so cuteee! Can we have one pleaseee!?” You pleaded and looked at Illumi with a pout and puppy dog eyes.

“No.” He firmly said making you sulk.

“I’ll be back for you just wait.” You whispered to one of the puppies as Illumi dragged you away from the glass. “I can’t believe a man would dress like that of all things.

He looks like he dressed in the dark.” Some man said loud and clear for you to hear while making direct eye contact with you.

“Fucking sickening.” Illumi had turned his attention away from the man and onto you, you were visibly sulking like a deflated balloon.

“Are you alright?” Illumi question you as he did a little squeeze with your hand. “I’m fine! Let’s just…let’s just go home..” You said with a quick smile. Illumi clicked his teeth and took note of what the man looked like as the two of you walked home.

The next day was even worse, you were more sluggish and just looked upset. What that guy said struck a nerve. “You want something sweet dear?” Illumi asked as you watched tv on the couch.

“No..” You grumbled making Illumi frown a bit. “Want to go for a walk?” You shook your head and brought your attention back onto the tv. For the next few days, you barely dressed in your usual attire and didn’t even bother leaving the house with Illumi.

That was the last straw before Illumi left for a bit and searched for the man that had ruined your whole week and took care of him in the nicest way possible.

“I’m home,” Illumi said as he took his shoes off by the door. “Welcome back.” You said with a small smile. Illumi sat down next to you and rested your head on his lap and changed the channel to the news.

The news lady explained the death of a certain man and showed a picture of his face. “How odd...I wonder who did that.” You hummed but shrugged it off. Illumi had the biggest grin he could muster up, it was pretty unsettling.

That grin had gone away when he looked at you. “Ice cream?” He offered making you spring up, nearly hitting him in the chin with your head.

“Hell yeah!” You exclaimed, and just like that, you were back to how you originally were.

-🍓tags: @jkloserdazai @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @secretivemessenger

[plasmasimagination]

Greetings ! I saw your match up event and I don't know if you're still up to it but I'll give it a shot anyways !

Fandom : Honkai Star Rail

Characters I don't want to be paired up with : Blade, Sampo (sorry boys)

Ahem, I'm an ISFP who's rising sign is Scorpio, moon sign is Aries and solar sign is cancer.

I absolutely adore writing, reading and exploring outside, urbex is the best thing I've ever known in my entire life. I'm also trilingual ! I just like languages so I'm studying them, probably to travel later although I might just change and get a bachlors degree in psychology just so I can help people. I also love swimming, favorite sport ngl. I forgot to mention, my pronouns are she/her and I'm bisexual though I lean a little more towards women (bless them).

In terms of personality I'd say I'm pretty shy and quiet with strangers but once I know them I'm a goofy dumbass and seem pretty extroverted because I become rather chatty. People have mentioned how intimidating I look, I'm about 5'8 and fairly fit with broad shoulders. So some have approached me out of curiosity and because I look mysterious (their words not mine). Though I'm a big teddy bear, my love language is physical touch and quality time after all.

Aside from my height I have middle length wavy (mb fluffy too ig) brown hair and brown eyes. I wear glasses or else I can't see crap. My clothing style is rather tomboyish, I prefer brown and beige colours and wear pretty simple things (tho I make them stylish).

Some details about myself are that I really like a good challenge and annoying the heck out of someone, some say I seem a little sadistic with my teasing lmao. Despite being chatty I'm rather laid back and quiet.

Have a good day btw ! I hope it was enough.

HELLO THERE SWEETHEART YAYAYA, so you didn't mention which gender you want to be paired up with so i just decided to give you uh...both? Bisexual problems frfr anyyyywaaays, matchup go!

.

.

.

March 7th!

Okay okay I know you might be asking why and stuff, so first off, who are you to question my way? (/J) and second here's why!

I always like to pair up introverts and extroverts together so they can balance each other out

And you two would fit so well, like-

Intimidating girlfriend that looks like she could beat your ass, and cute smol girlfriend protected

IDK I JUST FIND IT ADORABLE

You might say that you see her more as a friend but I think you two would start off as friends and then turn into something more

Also two chatty cuties would be a blast to be with one another, like I like to imagine march would enjoy chatting with you even if it's just random ranting about insignificant stuff and then be excited to hear your opinion on the insignificant stuff😭

Welt!

Calm collected and reserved

A complete opposite of march yet still a fit for you

This time two introverts together, who enjoy each others company

He prefers to listen to you talk rather than talking himself, but he does enjoy making small comments or chuckling at your stories

Very interested in your writing hobby

Will ask you to show him the newest thing you wrote, he gives constructive criticism but also praises, a tiny bit ;)

Your annoying won't work in him because he will just see it as your personality (ouch) and will sit there with a small smile on his face

Also enjoys different languages and will be fairly impressed by your knowledge, sometimes will ask a thing or two about a certain thing he's unsure of

Doesn't mind your displays of affection, quality time and acts of service are his so he's completely content and happy with spending time with you

About physical contact, he's rather not the one to initiate it, but if you do it first he'll have no trouble ab it

[raw-law]

What a captivating sensation to be held so high by such brilliant men, I couldn't quite describe it even if I tried to and I don't often lack of words to choose from so just know you two have deeply touched me as well. There is a certain distance people like to keep when something is even slightly intimidating to them, for example in the form of pure honesty, confidence and strong mindedness. All of which represent my most valuable traits in my opinion, so I greatly appreciate and thank you for your.. alluring praise. Yes. Certainly. I suppose humans are like this because they fear what they don't know and envy what they don't have, the classic example of a species made to have things fit their way instead of finding a way to fit with others. This just makes my appreciation bigger. I mean, you know it's serious when Ryuzaki starts swearing, right? Haha I would like to establish that I do not particularly care for "socially right" so be unafraid when it comes to expressing yourself, Ryuzaki. I just.. Wish for you to indulge in it. Don't limit yourself to society's expectations of how to accept a compliment. Really, the only shame here is that you have not received them more often throughout your life. Light, I assure you there is no need to apologize for the little wait. In fact, I'm honored you two chose quality over quantity haha

(No pressure for future asks, reply when you can and want to! Please.)

I dearly hope you didn't worry too much about.. Your words or reaction being a suitable match to what I have told you, because really, I do not send these for praise or recognition, even though it's a nice side effect. (And it's a real story, believe it or not) The fact that I have managed to get you to understand where I am coming from and where my point stands.. What a blessing, especially after being criticized by me haha although maybe now you can understand my initial complaint of shallowness. I have expanded my explanations because I knew you are capable of understanding and you boys did not disappoint. Nothing inadequate about it, Light. It's a pleasure. Enough about moi!! I want to come back to you. First off, since we can all agree that my experience equals my knowledge, I think I'm safe to end the "who tops in Lawlight?" debate. Because really, if Eroticism anon can't tell, then who could, ever? :p After analyzing your responses so far I can confirm there is no traditional "top". You're both sword and shield depending on the situation and you both challenge each other in a multi faceted way, resulting to.. Switching. That's my final conclusion. Anyhow.. Ahem, coming back to more serious topics. After this lovely conversation so far, I'm dying to ask you something. Tell me, Ryuzaki, Light, do you like literature? Do you have favorite works, if so? I write erotica/horror erotica (what a surprise, wow) so I'm always interested to find out what other people read, if they do. No worries, once I reveal myself you boys may bombard me with whatever questions and statements you feel like regarding the whole eroticism subject.

- 🩶

Light:

Thanks for understanding about the wait...and I'm glad you enjoyed both our responses!

And of course it's a real story, I never doubted that. There are some things that you can't fake the authenticity of, no matter how hard you try...and your story is certainly one of them. Don't worry about the criticism---it's helped to widen my viewpoint, so I definitely appreciate you pointing the shallowness of my answer out. Feel free to call me out in future, no worries.

Anyways, I suppose I do agree with your statement about the 'who is top' argument....I think someone did ask this question a while back, and Ryuzaki's and my answers were similar in respect to yours.

And thank you for asking that question! Yes, I do love literature---in fact, it's probably my favourite subject in school, and one of my hobbies when I get bored. Honestly, I'll read just about anything. I'll just include some of the books I've enjoyed/plan to read for a few genres, then, though I'm not going into too much detail because of the length:

Philosophy:

The Stranger (Camus), The Prince (Machiavelli [though this reads politically]), Beyond Good And Evil (Nietzsche, want to read)

Non-fiction:

Too Big To Jail (Garrett, about coporate law enforcement), Why Politics Fails (Ansell, mentioned in a previous post of mine), Heart (Barrett, on heart health), The Power of Geography (Marshall)

Short stories:

Binge (Coupland), Someone Who Will Love You in All Your Damaged Glory (Bob-Waksberg, previously mentioned), Cursed Bunny (Bora Chung)

That's it for now. I could go on and on, but I think it's a little overwhelming for one day...thanks for the ask, though. I rather enjoy sharing my book taste with other people.

L:

well. in my defense, when words fail (which they often do), swearing is the next best option. and i'll keep in mind this uh. "indulging" bit. it'll.. take getting used to, but i won't say no. so.. thank you. it means more than i'm able to express, hah.

but i agree with light. there are some stories in this world that are too beautiful to make up. and i'm also glad that you criticized our initial shallowness. don't hesitate to do it again, since i'm sure there's still a lot i don't know in this realm of intellect.

and in regards to the top argument.... i'll accept that as the final answer.. ... light-kun would like taking it up the ass more though. he's kira if he says he doesn't.

for the actual question though,, my relationship with literature is very... hate-love-ish?

i like literature, but frankly i despise the general act of reading. anything longer than a few pages feels like hell to sit through. having to sit there and focus all my attention on scanning through words without being able to multitask is just.... euck. and i don't say that to drag anything down, because i do heavily enjoy literature, and art in general. it's just a personal thing really. i'm not happy about it either. i like being immersed in stories. i like drowning in pages of knowledge.. but i just can't stand all the words after a while. it's why i attach to video essays more, or audiobooks. anything that can give me the same/around the same amount of closure that a book can while allowing me to multitask is something i'll latch onto. it's just more efficient for the way my mind functions.

anyways, ignoring the fact that i just said i hate reading (i swear i still have redeeming qualities that can make up for it. maybe. hopefully.), i do still have works i really like. .. though, admittedly, they're a lot less sophisticated than light's recommendations. i would explain why but i think it'll explain itself fairly quickly:

Dork Diaries, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, That's Debatable, and this one book i have that's just a collection of historical US documents (it's name is legitimately just The U.S. Constitution and Other Writings).

and.. that's all i have.

thank you again for the ask and response. i'll just hope i still have a reputation after this.

[house-of-lovin]

To my dear house-of-lovin:

I have a series of questions about Legally Binding bear with me, this is all merely speculation and possibly too much all at once so I apologize in advance.

Cherry-pick from this ask if you have to!ᵕ̈

How young was R when she’d been forced to start acting and singing?

I read somewhere on your page that you answered early teens! And you referenced Zendaya so I’m assuming she got her big break at possibly 14 and before that moderately small acting gigs?

R definitely seems to have a passion for music but how often does she get to produce?

She also seems like the type to make music more for herself than to share with the public given her history, I think not only something she really enjoys but uses as an outlet to cope with things.

Can you give us a few songs as reference to what music R’s produced?

I’m interested in listening to them from R’s POV! Personally, I thought of Never Felt So Alone by Labrinyth. I have no fucking clue at all what song R’s creating right now and I’m assuming since it’s for Coachella it has to be upbeat but might I suggest thinking about Good News by Mac Miller. Pfft or even The Spins by Mac Miller, fun, cocky and memorable like R.

Is there someone else in particular besides her family that made her start to think of everything she does in public from a ‘business standpoint’?

What character in the MCU does R play?

For me the first character that came to mind is possibly someone from the Spider-Verse! I mean why not bend some truths and pretend there’s one Spider-Verse comic that fits R’s description? I think it would align with the fact that R’s been an actor since her teen years and by now if a few movies have been released; her Spider-Verse character has got to be aligned with her age!

Hmm so I’ve read through someone else’s asks and you mentioned not having enough time to look up tv shows and movies aligning with R’s age. I was thinking for some of them, why not just have R’s character in said projects be someone that doesn’t necessarily exist in the current adaptation but is popular anyways?

For other fandoms you say? Is what you wrote still lurking on those platforms I’m curious! Your daydreaming keeps us supporters taken care of.

What kinda music do you play/listen to? I listen to just about everything under the sun except Heavy Metal, too much shouting and I’m already losing my hearing as is lmao.

(I love to trespass abandoned building/areas, for the first date just run when I do and we’ll be good but that’s at night, can and do you like swimming? If you say yes then during the day we’re exploring open waters/pretty nature on a jet ski (safe waters dw)

Am I possibly also picking the first activity to be be held? Ahem HEARSAY you can’t prove that)

Cordially,

Specter

I think yes early teens like 13 or 14 possibly. I think somewhere in my head Justin Bieber was lowkey a reference for R's character.

R gets her big break as a teen and does roles for smaller movies that gain her critical acclaim until major studios recognize her. (Sorry to Hailee but maybe Edge of Seventeen as one of those movies LOL) Before def small roles. (Idk what good movies have a 13 or 14 year old soooo)

I don't have a list of songs for R but with all the asks its def building. I'd love to hear what you guys think? But like I answered before, I see slow & modern R&B. Like SZA (cussing songs LOL), Frank Ocean, Omar Apollo, Yebba. BUT OMG I LOVE MAC.

I feel like with R's family background & starting so young it made her grow up faster than most. So I think over the years, she's just built a wall around herself around people in the industry giving her that 'business standpoint' mentality. I mean come on, there's no way she's had a whole career w/out getting burned by someone. It happens more often than ppl think.

I think her MCU role is def a spider-verse role too! Maybe there's a version of her a Spider-Gwen in the MCU movies LOL IDK.

There's a fic or two on AO3 for a totally unrelated fandom but its a couple years old so idk its kinda cringe LOL. (I also have a Kate Bishop unfinished series that I've just never posted LOL)

I play the guitar so I listen to a whole variety of genres! I like/am open to most music except heavy metal too lol. But I love R&B, Soul, Jazz, Rap. I like older music too so I listen to a lot of 50s, 60s and 70s. EVERYTHING. I WANT TO LISTEN TO EVERY SONG EVER MADE LOL. (but same my hearing is shit lol)

I CAN swin (somewhat) I just can't tread water (ik ik disgraceful) but jet ski you say👀

(I'm indecisive af so I need ppl to plan things for me LOL)

ENJOYED ANSWERING THIS <3