#their lines are particularly interesting but

[kytiapseud]

In Defense of Epic Manwhore au

Okay, so I’m kinda nervous to post this but I feel like it should be said. I hope I tagged correctly for the topics I discuss in this. So, in defense of the Manwhore au as for the concept being coerced, it’s not like the god(s) said ‘you’ll die if you don’t have sex with me’. Odysseus is the one who brings it up. Although yes, the line of consent there is a bit murky with Odysseus more doing so to get out of situations rather than because he wants to. It’s totally valid for some fans to not be a fan of the au, not everything in fan spaces is for everyone. You are entitled to your opinion and get to make your fandom experience safe for you. There is something I saw though that felt like commentary about those who came up with/ enjoy the au. To me this felt close to attempted fandom censoring or those who try to ‘cleanse’ all fandom content to what they think is morally correct. Again, it is fine if you want to share your thoughts on something. But I hope no one comes after those who do enjoy the au. I haven’t seen that happen yet, I’m hoping it doesn’t. But the generalization about what it says about those who enjoy the au doesn’t sit right with me. For reasons like I mentioned above, about worrying it could turn into attempted censoring. Especially if anyone tries to get others to agree to black-and-white thinking about what they think is true. That could easily turn into justification to harassment, which I have seen in fandom spaces before. Particularly with anti-proshippers.

There may be valid criticisms to this au concept, but that doesn’t mean everyone who is a fan likes it for the same reasons. Let me address some of what I’ve seen though. The joking about Odysseus being a Manwhore coming from homophobia. Yeah, that’s possible (although personally I feel like a homophobe is more likely to not even mention gay things.) I don’t think that’s always the case though. I know there was one animatic I saw, the first thing I saw for the au, that had a joke in it that I didn’t like. I don’t judge this creator, and in fact it’s a common joke I’ve seen. Particularly with people wishing they didn’t see something. It just doesn’t vibe with me. In no way do I think that those who say such jokes have something wrong with them. People have different senses of humor and I think some use such jokes as a way to cope.

Anyways, I think some of the humor more comes from how unexpected it would be. I mean, we have a war captain facing foes who instead of choosing to fight goes for seducing them. It’s certainly interesting. I know some of the jokes come from the others not involved in the coupling being just shocked or grossed out. I think that more comes from like not wanting to see someone else talk about or get busy with another? I mean, some of these men probably consider each other to be like brothers. I imagine that would be weird. I think homosexuality wasn’t taboo in ancient Greece, I’m not entirely sure though I may need to do more research on that. So there could be some homophobia to the jokes, but I don’t think that’s the case for everyone. It certainly wasn’t for me. It could also be lgbt+ fans wanting to see more gay stuff in the story. Gay shipping isn’t uncommon after all.

I don’t think everyone who talks about the Manwhore au has no problem joking about sa. There can be many reasons why someone may enjoy a concept in media. You don’t know. Like how women are criticized for rape fantasies. I watched a documentary about sex once (I can’t remember which one this was in now) and there was a whole segment about the rape fantasy, discussing why this is an appeal to some women. It did not mean these women want to be raped of course. Part of it could come from a culture of feeling pressure to not experience any sexual feelings, so the scenario allowed them to experience something without feeling guilty about it. There isn’t always a clear explanation for why someone can find something sexy.

I think this started as a joke, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some who wanted something sexy in their Epic fan experience. I mean, having read the Odyssey in school (twice actually) I did not expect I would want to see Odysseus in such a scenario. But then I saw one sexy fanart of him with others and cough I ended up liking it more than I expected. Those who have seen my reblogs on this tag know heh.

There’s also the infidelity notion. I feel like given the situation, Penelope would understand. I also saw some comments that they could be poly, which is a concept I like for this. I’ve also seen mention that human relationships with gods have ended up tragically for the humans involved. I don’t think everyone who listens to Epic knows about that. I didn’t. But again, this goes back to it being fantasy. People enjoying picturing it the way they want to. It doesn’t have to be accurate to the myths. It’s fanfiction/au.

I think the infidelity notion to it didn’t bother me as much as others because in the original, he wasn’t faithful. Sorry for Odyssey spoilers I guess. Anyways, I was already used to him being a cheater. Although the one with Circe may match more with the coercion along the lines of ‘sleep with me for your crew’. The knife that’s been shown in some animatics wasn’t in the original. It’s been a while since I’ve read it so I’m not entirely sure about how that went down.

Referring back to if Odysseus wants it even if he was the one who offered (sorry if I’m all over the place with this, I have a lot of thoughts.) Seducing foes doesn’t necessarily mean he didn’t want it. There’s a character in a Sanders Sides roleplay I was in named Remy (Sleep), whose rp version was created/and played by the wonderful @queroze , who was proclaimed by them to be a manslut. His go-to to get out of situations, if he saw it was a fit strategy, was to seduce. Sure, he got into situations that weren’t great, but often he was the active one in the seducing. I wouldn’t say his go-to being to seduce meant it wasn’t always consensual. In fact, there’s many descriptions and some statements from Que themselves saying Remy loved bringing pleasure to his partners.

Then there’s the mention of the unlikeliness of the scenario actually happening. I don’t think this matters that much to be honest. It’s fandom enjoyment. Who cares if people want to enjoy something that doesn’t seem likely in canon? I personally couldn’t see seduction working, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t find the concept entertaining. Sure people shouldn’t insist it could occur to the creators. But aside from that, it doesn’t affect you. Enjoying fan spaces is way more fun if we let things stay peaceful.

I kinda want to write a fanfic now that adjusts to some of the critiques I’ve seen of this au. I know I said I probably wouldn’t, but I got inspired while planning this heh.

[hell-is-not-an-excuse]

Not so sorted Ghostfuckers thoughts

Firstly, this episode was an improvement over the last few, at least in my opinion - That isn't to say that it's great, or even particularly good, but I can say that I was more invested in this episode, even if only a little. It had more focus on the original concept of the show with an I.M.P mission finally not just being reduced to a short... Though the mission still doesn't take full priority, something I will expand on momentarily.

Before that though, I'll start off with the things I did actually like.

The bankruptcy joke got a quick giggle out of me. It may be that I'm still an immature little homonculus, but the jokes that don't fall into the unnecessarily crude/sexual category still elicit a reaction from me.

This joke got me too - I know that this was almost definitely intended as a jab towards critics, however it loops back around to being funny to me, as I joke a lot about being "objectively correct".

These frames of Moxxie specifically - I love him a lot and wish he was in a show that took better care with its character writing

I enjoyed seeing the flashback designs for the I.M.P crew - Moxxie isn't too different, but I actually sort of prefer the others past looks here.

Lastly, this specific moment/line! This is a massive improvement over what was given to us in those leaked boards - In the original boards, I had a hard time believing that Millie would have this suicidal fit out of seemingly nowhere because... Some other demon told her she was a bad wife? This is a much more "in character" line for Millie, given what we already knew about her as an audience (which admittedly, wasn't a lot, but she never gave off the sort of insecurity/suicidal ideation that the original boards appeared to have been pushing for).

I think I've gotten all the praise I can wring out of my system - Now comes all the issues I take with this newest episode. These criticisms come in no particular order.

There's the usual thought that comes whenever a new episode drops - The swearing and sexual humour is too frequent and over the top. I'm an enjoyer of well placed crude and sexual humour, but this isn't well placed. With every second line containing profanity, innuendo, or explicit sexual content, they become less and less special and interesting to hear, to the point that watching characters interact becomes a slog.

Blitz is supposedly having this month long breakdown because... He had a breakup that wasn't really a breakup? He himself admits they were never in a relationship, and gets upset at the concept that him and Stolas will never be together. Obvious criticism of Stolitz notwithstanding, until Apology Tour, there have been no genuine moments of "love" between the two - This all comes off more as Blitz mourning this potential (now dead) relationship because the writers feel it's time for him to do so, without selling to the audience why he would give a damn about Stolas in the first place. I hardly believe Stolas and his pining back in Ozzie's, let alone the shameless display that we're getting now.

Speaking of Stolas, this is a perfect segue into what I said I was going to expand upon further down in this post; despite this episode having an I.M.P mission be a main setting, that's all it is - A setting. I wouldn't mind so much if this was purely for character building, but it's yet another instance of things happening because of Stolas. This feathered fuck haunts the narrative even when he's not present! The mission is presented more as an avenue of helping Blitz "get over" Stolas as opposed to just being a job that the members of I.M.P need to, you know, live.

Speaking of, how financially stable are I.M.P and its employees? Despite having nearly two seasons to expand on the concept of a business owned by the lowest caste of Hell's systems, nothing is done with it. With a setup like that, there should at least be some narrative drama involving the company facing challenges and instances of being in financial dire straights. Instead of this however, Blitz is able to blow a months worth of money on useless knick-knacks and owls to burn? With no real show of consequence as a result of this?

While I enjoyed seeing a bit of Millie backstory and her relationship to Blitz, Helluva still suffers from its "tell don't show" rule. Millie mentions she loves to have fun with Blitz, but we have never seen an instance of these two having fun together in show.

Honestly, the backstory of Blitz/Millie's meet and subsequent partnership should have been its own episode; we could have actually seen her steal the target from I.M.P as a solo assassin, we could have seen the state of I.M.P before her addition - If you wanted a bit of shipping fuel, you could also have an instance of Moxxie being too starstruck by this mysterious, wrathful rival to take a shot on her. So many possibilities! All wasted.

Millie's development episode shouldn't have come at the tail end of season two - She's been in the show since episode ONE, she deserved something in the first season to flesh her out.

I do not buy her reasoning for looking up to Blitz; if she thinks of herself as only a simple country girl or a brute, this would have been nice to actually see hinted to us throughout the show.

The casual ableism in the joke about the Hotel Owner's new cleaner - Not only is the way he is depicted simply dehumanising, framing him as this object of disgust rather than a person, this is driven further by being called a "poor thing" and only being reacted to with vague disgust by Blitz and Millie. And of course he's barely verbal, with the exception of a funny swear word (/sarc).

The whole sequence where Blitz is alone and being tormented by visions of Millie and Tilla is... It sure exists. Subtlety is lost in most of this dialogue here as once again, we are bluntly told what the problem with Blitz is - We know he makes decisions that fuck over others for his own benefit, we know he's selfish. We've seen this time and again!! This is not something that needed to be explicitly spoken for what feels like the millionth time in this (so far) two-season run.

Speaking of mothers! Millie and Loona get shafted into a role of taking care of their respective man for the episode - As a matter of fact, both their conversations involve Blitz or Moxxie. After nearly two seasons, I don't think they've had a conversation that wasn't about their male coworkers/relationships.

What is an infestor demon? Have they shown up before? What in God's name am I supposed to know about them? Somehow when it comes to worldbuilding, the need to explain everything explicitly is gone.

Why is Blitz being emotionally tortured again while Stolas sees no real consequence? This is getting to be a really tired pattern.

The whole ghostfucking bit was already testing my patience within the first couple of minutes.

Anyway, that's all I have of like... More surface level critiques of this episode. I'll probably make a few more minor posts about this episode later and elaborate on some new thing my brain is sticking to.

[monstars-incorporated]

I've been thinking....🤔

People talk a lot about wanting Randall having a redemption arc (and I understand)

But what do you guys think about the possibility that the Redemption Arc could go to either Johnny or Waternoose?

As painful as it is for me to say, I find the idea of these two getting redemption arcs more likely than Randall tbh

I'd say it's possible for Waternoose since he HAS shown remorse and just wanted to solve the energy crisis, however that line in the gif above, as well as the fact that the writing staff don't really seem to be particularly interested in bringing him back makes me uncertain how probable that would be

Johnny is more hard for me to say, cause while he MIGHT have some redeeming qualities (he seems to love his kids at least), he also doesn't seem to show any remorse for his actions similarly to Randall. He also KNEW the type of person Randall was yet still chose to work with him anyways so I honestly can see this one going either way

What do you guys think?

[dinarosie]

hi i am actually very interested in the fact that you are "anti-marauders" because i have a strong feeling you've never actually had a conversation with a (real, not tik-tokified) marauders fan. i don't particularly "hate" snape, but i do NOT think he's a good person. i have a lot of similar nuanced feeling pertaining to peter, and i will admit that james and sirius are often childish and did bully snape. i've decided to reread half-blood prince, and rewatch the movie, so i can have a real conversation of my opinion on snape, and i will send in another ask later.

also, sectumsemprus (is that it?) is his SIGNATURE spell- for reference, voldemort's signature spell is avada kedavra, and harry's is probably expelliarmus. do you know how many times you have to use a spell for it to become your signature spell?

Hi there! Thanks for reaching out.

First, I want to clarify that I use anti-Marauders tags not because I created this blog solely to spread hate against them or to harass their fans, but because it’s a general Tumblr rule. For nearly any post criticizing a character, you’re expected to use anti tags, as fans of that character might not want to see critical posts about their favorite. This ensures fans who may not want to see criticism of their favorite characters can filter or avoid it if they choose.

Now, you mentioned that I probably haven’t talked to a “real” Marauders fan, which is why I have anti-Marauders posts. But honestly, I don’t think all fans of the Marauders share the same views, nor is it possible to talk to every fan before making a post. I see a lot of anti-Snape content daily—much of it from Marauders fans—and often get an idea for a post that I decide to share. I imagine most bloggers do this; it’s part of engaging with fandoms online. I try to offer thoughtful critiques when possible, but that does take time. Sometimes, seeing particularly harsh, illogical, or double-standard comments pushes me to post a short, sarcastic response—one that mirrors the style of some of the content I encounter.

Overall, I wouldn’t call myself “anti All of Marauder fans.” Yes, I use terms like “Marauders fans” and “anti-Marauders” tags, but my issue is only with fans who unreasonably hate Snape and mock him (even for things like his background) or who attack Snape supporters, labeling them with hurtful terms simply for supporting him. Outside of those specific cases, I have no problem with other fans.

As for your question about Sectumsempra, I understand you’re suggesting it became Snape’s “signature” spell through frequent, harmful use. I looked up the reference you mentioned, and here’s the passage from Deathly Hallows where Lupin speaks of Sectumsempra:

“He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape’s. I wish I could say I’d paid him back in kind, but it was all I could do to keep George on the broom after he was injured, he was losing so much blood.”

It’s worth noting the term Lupin uses here: specialty, not signature. Sectumsempra first appears in Half-Blood Prince as an unknown spell by an unnamed creator. After Harry uses it on Malfoy, it’s still an unfamiliar spell until Snape admits to creating it at the end of the book. But in Deathly Hallows, right after the Battle of the Seven Potters, Sectumsempra becomes widely associated with Snape (via Lupin’s words).

While in Half-Blood Prince the goal is to keep the creator of this spell anonymous, in Deathly Hallows it’s crucial to know exactly who used Sectumsempra during the Battle of the Seven Potters. The inconsistency here seems intentional. The author isn’t referencing Sectumsempra’s notoriety here to highlight Snape’s past; rather, I believe she brings it up as an important clue about the future. This clue gains significance after we view Snape’s memories, especially after reading Dumbledore’s line to him just before the Battle of the Seven Potters:

And Severus, if you are forced to take part in the chase, be sure to act your part convincingly… I am counting upon you to remain in Lord Voldemort’s good books as long as possible, or Hogwarts will be left to the mercy of the Carrows..."

But in THE PRINCE’S TALE, we see that Snape defies Dumbledore’s advice—he steps out of his role as a Death Eater and targets another Death Eater with a spell that’s highly conspicuous, one that could jeopardize his cover. (If successful, and had it hit another Death Eater, they would have immediately recognized the spell as Snape’s own.) So why would Snape make such an irrational choice? Why take such a risk? To save the life of Remus Lupin.

This scene is one of many that show Snape’s growth and commitment to doing the right thing—not out of loyalty to Lily, not for Dumbledore, nor for any personal reward.( And that's exactly why, in the chapter where Snape's true loyalty and the real story behind him are finally revealed, this spell and its backstory are brought up.) As he admitted in his iconic line to Dumbledore, he had grown weary of watching lives be lost when he had the power to save them. Whether it’s an old bully, Lucius and Narcissa’s son, or James and Lily’s, Snape steps in without hesitation to protect a life—even if it endangers his own

Another reason I don’t believe the author’s aim here is to highlight Snape’s crimes as a Death Eater is that there are numerous scenes throughout the series discussing Snape’s actions during that time. Yet, we never see any indication or hint from the author that Snape committed serious harm or atrocities while serving as a Death Eater. In fact, in his argument with Bellatrix, it’s mentioned that Snape actively tried to avoid participating in missions. During his planning conversations with Dumbledore, we’re also told that his soul has never been tainted by murder. And in Karkaroff’s trial, there’s no crime or accusation he can use against Snape.

[the-midnight-blooms]

ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ

PROLOGUE

pairing: ghostface!song mingi x reader (ft. ghostface!jeong yunho)

AU: modern au

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

warnings: yandere themes, stalking

A/N: I've never actually watched Scream but I love the concept, so general ideas revolving around the character will be used here (i also saw yungi!ghostface fanart, which i am OBSSESSED with).

A chat room is an online platform that enables users to communicate with each other in real time. Chat rooms are typically hosted on a server with an internet connection, enabling members from around the world to hold conversations about various topics.

Upbeat 80s rock music reverberates of the four walls of her room, the pen nib scratches, furiously, across the thin lined paper as her mind spills the plethora of knowledge that's locked up within it. Dropping the pen to the side, a long groan escapes her lips in tiredness the bright light of the computer screen gnawing at her attention. As she flicks between the several open tabs on her web browser, loitering in the far corner is an underground chat room for ‘conventional losers’, i.e. nerds, geeks, freaks, goths and emos and every other ostracised sub-cultural group you could think of. The thought itself was quite fascinating to her, which one was she? Or rather, was she the pretentious introvert who thought herself higher than those who defied society's conventional train of thought and aligned herself with the populars?

Snapping her book shut, she closed several of the academic pages she had open; leaving her with the final one: the infamous chat room. She’d already logged in, curiosity masticating her rationality and browsed a few pages, sent a few quick messages to people the website had recommended based on her “favourite topics”.

Her eyes glance carefully across the blaring screen, the blue light penetrating into her steady gaze as she reads the username that steals her undivided attention.

@ pyscho.killer

A snicker escapes her lips, she surfs their profile finding very little information about them, other than ‘Fix on’. Goodness, is she really going to talk to this person just because he too enjoys listening to Modern Talking? Her lips purse in contemplation as she clicks on ‘Message’, there’s no harm in conversing with someone you don’t know. Right?

modern-division: Fan of the Talking Heads much?

She prides herself on her nonchalance, if he wasn't to respond she really wouldn't care. After all, Yeji had invited her to join a number of societies at university and despite the fact that none of the them seemed particularly interesting to her; there was no harm in joining at least one or two if the outcome was a few friends to make her strenuous four years more bearable.

Ping. Her head snaps back to computer screen as she shoves all of her pens back into the pencil case; a dirty habit from childhood to spread all of her things across the table and then spend five minutes, impartially, cleaning everything up.

psycho.killer: Psycho Killer, Qu'est-ce que c'est?

modern-division: Fa-fa-fa-fa, fa-fa-fa-fa-fa-fa, better

psycho.killer: Run, run, run, run, run, run, run away,

psycho.killer: I think I have met my match. To whom do I now call mine?

A childish giggle escapes her, she leans back in her seat in a knowingness that she may now actually enjoy being on this sketchy platform. Careful, yet. She doesn't actually know this stranger.

modern-division: AHAHA you’re funny, Mr Fix On (what does that even mean?)

psycho.killer: that’s not for you to know, darling.

psycho.killer: let me guess…you like joy division and modern talking?

modern-division: what gave it away?

psycho.killer: I guess you’re pretty funny too

It's quite absurd to believe that a famous hit song by the 'Talking Heads' is what got her, her new best internet friend yet the notion is very much a fact. So much so, her life is now consumed by the chat rooms she used to look down on. Social media is very much a vortex, or vacuum of some kind, sucking one in; leaving them void of humanity, stripping them down of some yearning for human interaction. Or at least that's what it did to most. After a long day of lectures, she found herself wanting to be able to see 'Mr Fix On' in person, talk to him in person, be able to stare into his eyes.

Speaking of. As a matter of fact, she didn't even know what he looked like. Just that he was South Korean, had short black hair and brown eyes. She too allowed herself to share the same amount of information that he provided. Mum did say not to go around talking to strangers, and even if she was doing just that; she was not dim enough to start revealing absolutely everything about her identity.

The autumn leaves sway softly with the gentle breeze, a waft of biting air floods over her sending a ripple of goosebumps over her supple skin. Her shoes crunch the delicate leaves, that pave the way to her home, yet she feels a daunting figure stalk after her. For a split second, she believes herself to be hallucinating as she takes a daring look behind her shoulder to find the street behind her, empty.

A tall figure strolls after her, picturing landmarks that carves the path to her home. His soft dark brown hair tousles with the wind, the cold forging a pink blush over his cheeks; sinking his long nose into the woollen scarf his movements come to an abrupt halt as his heroine plunges her eyes into his.

God, she's fucking pretty.

They move over his, hastily, as to her he's simply rifling through his bag for a wallet in line for an expensive coffee alongside a couple of old-age pensioners.

Conclusion: She is paranoid, there is no one after her. Yet as it is autumn in her unsafe town, its better to be cautious than to walk across the surface of the earth with no walls at all.

psycho.killer: wanna join a gc with my friend? he likes some of the same music as us.

psycho.killer: plus, he's a compsci loser who needs a friend

It's been at least a month since she had began talking to 'psycho.killer', who she had learnt his name is: Mings. Or rather its a shorthand version of his forename that he is weirdly reluctant to disclose, as he insists on her calling him 'Min' or "darling, my lover, husband- whatever floats your boat." He is truly charismatic, his charms are perceived from the other end of the screen. She wonders what it would be like to see him in real life. Is he truly as amiable as he reads?

modern-division: haha, i don't mind. what's his @ ?

psycho.killer: its @ killed.theradio.st4r

modern-division: you guys are my people

She hums the tune to 'Video Killed the Radio Star." Her mother's soft laughter pervades her way into her room; the older woman places her washed clothes on the Chester drawer wondering how the younger generation manage to get invested in the songs of the past.

[psycho.killer added you to 'two losers and a hot nerd']

killed.theradio.st4r: helloo, i'm yuyu :)

modern-division: hi!

modern-division: also, who's the hot nerd?

psycho.killer: me.

killed.theradio.st4r: lmao. its you, doll.

Does Mings just refer to me as, Doll to everyone he speaks to?

modern-division: you don't even know what i look like

killed.theradio.st4r: guess we just know you're a hot girl by intuition

modern-division: what if i'm a man? ever thought about that?

psycho.killer: your bio literally states that you're a girl

psycho.killer: not-so-mysterious babe

It wasn’t so bad for someone online to know your gender, it was just ensuring that your femininity wasn’t exploited. She knew they would never ask her to share explicit content nor would they force her to engage in it, though talking to the pair of ‘Killers’ preserved an ominous feeling in the airs. She couldn’t tell if at any point, she really felt comfortable talking to either of the two.

To begin with, Min was always trying to call her. Ask her where she was, what she was doing, if she had she eaten, what time she was going to bed. He asked about her day, and if anyone bothered her in particular. To any other he may have seemed like a kind-hearted boyfriend yet to her it felt like an intruder had permeated into the walls of her bedroom and dominated her life. Then you had his esteemed friend, Yun. He was always deeming her the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She could see within his words the robust desire he had manifested from her words, the way he had subtly requested for her photos in order to fuel the raging fires burning in her absence.

He wanted her. Physically, to put it lightly. Indeed, she was a doll to him and to have her in his arms would purify him of all his sinful thoughts. Yun always brought it up with his friend, who had simply told him to put out those fires. (For the time being).

“Have you heard of ‘Ghostface’?” Her head snaps up from her workbook, in the library where one of her closer acquaintances sits opposite playing with her water bottle. A newspaper article sits in front with the notorious blurry image of a man with a ghost mask roaming around town.

“This is the first I’m hearing. I mean it’s Halloween soon, so it’s probably some idiot roaming around town.”

“An idiot? I don’t think so, ma’am. Read on, he’s been going around stalking people in his costume.” She raises her eyebrows, nimbly scanning her eyes over the text before returning back to her work. Though she cannot help but stare back at the blurred image of the figure. “I bet there’s a sexy man under all that.” Scowling at her friend, she sends a dirty look.

“You have got to be kidding me. A ‘sexy’ man. You said it yourself, he’s stalking people.”

“Yeah but, one of the girls from Art said he was mad tall and had this deep, attractive voice.”

“Yes, I bet he goes: ‘come here babe, let me kill you’ in his husky voice and you all go running to him because you have no morals.” Once again, she rolls her eyes whilst her friend merely giggles as if she is just pleasantly awaiting to be a victim. She rarely meets women who have an ambition for a victim complex, yet those she does: she steers away from.

“I’m only joking, but be real. Have you never heard a guy with a deep, attractive voice?” Her friend questions, making her pause her writing. In fact, she has. Mins’ voice has a sent over her railings during their late night calls, there’s something so potent residing within it. Intoxicating. It almost has her want to do everything he asks.

He is too, tall with a deep voice but there must be so many like him in this world.

The thought is dismissed and she shoos away her friend to allow herself to prioritise the exam that’s pending in two weeks time.

modern-division: have you guys heard of ghostface?

killed.theradio.st4r: why?

modern-division: just asking, apparently some loser is dressing up in a ghost mask and stalking people. idk if it’s just halloween round the corner though

killed.theradio.st4r: oh no :(

killed.theradio.st4r: could just be a halloween thing

modern-division: yeah, I think so too.

“So you like the librarian?”

“Mhm.” She steals her longing gaze away from him towards Yeji, who sends a vicious smirk her way. A blush taints her cheeks, knowing that Yeji will never live it down now. “I’m not gonna deny he’s pretty good looking.”

“Pretty good looking? He’s gorgeous as fuck. He’s not a want, he’s a need.” Playfully, she bites her lip suppressing a fit of giggles by burying her face into the textbook. A few others send irritated looks from across the room, which has the pair sinking in their seats. “You think a guy like him is single?”

“Absolutely not. If I had the chance, I’d snatch him up right away.” Her eyes flicker back to the tall man who catches her stare in an instant, he holds it before moving back to surf through the books on the trolley.

A low beat surfaces along the posters, her phone is sandwiched between her shoulder and cheek as she trudges furiously around the room looking for her scarf. Min's voice permeates her ears delicately, despite the alarming sentences he speaks; he converses in length about human anatomy saying that raw flesh must be easier to study than cadaveric tissue. As much as she agrees, just to play devil's advocate she will never admit that.

“I love your voice, Mings. It’s so deep, but like in a comforting way. As if you can protect me.” The declaration escapes her mouth before she can even stop it.

“Do you want to be protected by me, or from me, doll?” A pause lingers in the air, before he lowly chuckles—one that forces her to laugh with him though an uneasy feeling resides within her bones.

“By you, preferably.” She jokes, playing with the pendant of her necklace. A shadow looms by the open doorway, obscuring the stream of light that spills in from the hallway; the deafening silence panics her. “Mum!” She shouts, discarding the phone to the side in a frenzy.

“Yes! I just had a cup of tea for you, were you not studying?” The door is pushed open by nonetheless, her mother who waddles across the carpeted floor to settle the hot beverage down on the table.

“I was, I’m just tired now. Maybe I’ll come back to it later.”

“No, no. Go to bed, dear. I’m off to work, make sure you’re outside by 8, I’ll drop you.” A soft kiss is placed on her forehead, she is calmed by the maternal affection seeing her mother to the door before she dashes back into her room to find her phone.

The call must have been disconnected in the process of her flinging it elsewhere, her hands shake violently as she’s, pathetically, unable to hold the phone steady in her grasp. Mings has spammed her several times with messages, she doesn’t bother to read any of them.

modern-division: i’m tired, going to bed.

psycho.killer: goodnight, babygirl

In the midst of wandering through the aisles of the library, seeking books two shelves above her head, it instantaneously occurs to her that she’s never actually paid much attention to Yuyu and Mings’ pet names that they have for her. Doll, babygirl, darling, love, honey, etc. The list seems to never end yet she ponders the primary reason they get so comfortable around her is because she has never actually given them a reason to stop being so affectionate.

A cascade of books tumble down from the shelf, hitting the floor with a powerful slam—jumping backwards on instinct, she grimaces reaching down from them as a few pairs of eyes stare at her from their tables. Her face heats red in embarrassment, until another pair of hands comes to assist her.

"Goodness, how did you manage this?" Her eyes gleam up into another's; words lodge in her throat upon realisation of the being in front. It's the 'hot librarian', as her and Yeji have trademarked.

"Oh, I—they just fell." He raises his eyes at her.

"They just. Fell." A mischievous smile is sent her way as he stacks the books back onto the shelf, that's too high for her to reach anyway. "We'll call it the force of gravity then, shall we?" Shyly, she nods, handing him the last of the books. Her eyes reel in the name scrawled across the name tag. A thought Yeji will be pleased to hear drifts into her mind.

“I’m Yujin, by the way. I’m always at the help desk if you need to me to stack book that fall off the shelf again.” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. It clearly says ‘Yunho’, on his name tag. He stalks off in the opposite direction before she can question him, leaving her abandoned in the desolate aisle.

modern-division: the hot librarian lied about his name.

modern-division: I wonder why

Paranoia is no longer a delusion. It must be very true that someone is following after her.

Under the banner of the night, herself and Yeji walk back home after a long day of studying. They amble down the cobbled roads, yet her eyes cannot help but glance over her shoulder. There must be a man of some sort following them, his long calculated strides send a wave of fear pummelling through her. Instantly, she grabs Yeji’s hand dashing down the road towards the convenience store.

The dim lights flicker upon their arrival, she cowers behind the large aisles; ignoring her friend’s imperatives watching as a tall figure saunters into the store.

It’s him.

Jeong Yunho, the Librarian.

Or ‘Yujin’ as he addresses himself for reasons she assumes she will never know why.

Is he her stalker?

“I thought there was someone stalking us. There was a guy who walked all the way from the library to the road we just crossed behind us. I took a detour as well and he kept following.” She breathes out, leaning her head against the shelf.

“Are you kidding? Why didn’t you tell me?” Yeji squawks.

“I didn’t want him to suspect that I knew he was following.”

Her eyes sought ‘Yunjin’ who gives her a sincere smile before he makes his way to the exit.

modern-division: I think there was someone following me

psycho.killer: ??? are you home? are you safe now?

modern-division: yes, but shit that was scary.

psycho.killer: let me call you bbg, I’ll help get your mind of it

Her phone vibrates in her hand, her finger traces over the red button before she lifts the device to her ear. His smooth tone infiltrates her ears again, easing the anxiety prevalent in the fibre of her muscles. She doesn’t know how Min does it. He helps her forget all about her problems, it’s as if he himself is the cure.

“Oh hey, baby. There was something I wanted to ask.” He pants slightly, the distant sound of leaves crunching drifts from the other end of the line.

“Are you outside?” He laughs.

“Yeah I’m walking home.” His hasty breaths pervade the line. One after another, a series of profane thoughts enter her mind. She is so disappointed in herself. “So, you got a boyfriend?”

“Why? Do you wanna ask me out on a date?” She teases, a lock of hair curls around her forefinger, the vibrato of his voice truanting into her ears, exhilarating her core as rush of certainty floods into her.

“Maybe, do you have a boyfriend?” He piques, she cannot help but grin at his words as if they are both playing a dangerous game of seduction, one she has never played before and one he has won a countless number of times.

“No.” Her truthful answer is not one that hurts her, though she says it as if she’s lying and has had countless lovers before in the past. Perhaps this is the persona that will have her enigmatic paramour crawling towards her.

“You never told me your name.” He acknowledges, 'Mings' has only ever called her 'doll'. Her moves are careful as she continues her cyber relationship with this unknown man, there's a reason she's at the top of her class—he thinks. A thread of messages enter from another chat room, his sharp eyes reeling in the words of his partner.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” Sheer curiosity. Yes, he told her he’s called ‘Mings’ but it’s just a silly nickname used to gain her trust. What is it really short for: Mingi? Mingyu? And Yuyu? Is it possible that he is Yunho? A foreign uneasiness rushes into her skin, she’s cautious as she sits up in her desk chair.

A bad feeling, an intuition of some sort.

He’s going to tell her something she doesn’t want to hear.

“I wanna know who I’m looking at.” Her finger immediately presses, harshly, onto the red button throwing her phone onto her desk. Her body jumps up from her seat, heart pounding furiously against her chest. With her body leaning closer to the window, her eyes outcast the front lawn in which a slender figure stands outside. A ghosts mask rests upon his face, his lanky frame is shrouded in a loose black cloth concealing the shape of his body. A large brick phone is held up against his ear, when he catches her staring down at him, his head cocks eerily to the side.

psycho.killer: Pick

psycho.killer: Up

psycho.killer: The

psycho.killer: Phone

psycho.killer: Doll.

•••

All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: happy 'late' Halloween! my timing is atrocious, but here's a 'small snippet' of a fic i may continue if my writing schedule allows. atm its a one-shot. What's your favourite scary movie? 👻

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

tag list: @n0v4t33z @potatos-on-clouds @jjongwho

[rekino2114]

Teruko tawaki fluff alphabet

A/n:it's my first fluff alphabet, and i decided to go with my girl teruko cause she really needs love, and i had a bunch of ideas for her

☘️A=affection(how affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Teruko's affection changes during your relationship. At first, she's not that affectionate, only accepting the occasional hugs, but the more the relationship goes on, the more she accepts affectionate gestures. She particularly loves giving hugs, especially side hugs

☘️B=baby(do they want a family? How are they with kids?)

She does not want a child. Not only is she still traumatized from her family's death, she's very worried that her luck might hurt your kid or that it may be hereditary somehow, she's also not good with children so that's another reason. Maybe in the future, when she truly moved on from everything but not anytime soon

☘️C=cuddles(do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?)

Teruko does like cuddling, especially after a hard day of just existing. She's more often the big spoon, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you near her chest so that you feel protected

☘️D=Domestic(do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

While she would like to move in with you in the future, teruko is terrible at domestic stuff, partly because of her luck and partly because she's just kinda lazy. Whenever she cooks, the kitchen always ends up in flames, and her cleaning will just result in the place being 10× more dirty somehow

☘️E=everything (you are........ example: my life,my world)

"You are the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. Just having found you makes up for all the pain I ever felt"

☘️F=flirting (how do they flirt? Does it continue even after they're in a relationship?)

This girl has no idea how to flirt. She'll try to use some cheesy pick-up lines that she asked whit for while blushing intensely. She won't flirt with you anymore after. She doesn't see the point since you're already in a relationship

☘️G=gifts(what gifts do they like to give you? When?)

She doesn't give you gifts often, not because she doesn't want to but because she knows it'll somehow get ruined, sometimes you don't like it, other times it gets broken. Except for birthdays or anniversaries, don't expect many gifts.

☘️H=hug(do they like hugs? how do they hug?)

Teruko gives amazing hugs. not even she knew about it before she started dating you, but there's something about her wrapping her arms around you and being so close that makes you happy and calm. since you like them so much, she's more than happy to hug you whenever you want

☘️I=I love you (how fast did they say it? Do they say it often?)

It took a while for her to say it for the first time. She still has trust issues and needed to know she could fully trust you. But after your relationship gets serious, she'll say it more often, especially when you're having doubts about it

☘️J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

She actually gets jealous quite a lot and pretty often, but she's relatively good at hiding it. She just doesn't want to lose you and is constantly scared you'll get tired of her luck and leave her for a better woman. When someone's hitting on you she'll mostly stand near you and not say anything if she sees you're not interested, but if someone is making you uncomfortable, then she'll tell them to stop and bring you away (she might threaten to stab them)

☘️K=kisses(how do they kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you?)

Like her affection and demeanor teruko's kisses evolve during your relationship. At first, they're soft and quick, but the more attached she gets to you, the longer they go on for, and the more passionate they become. Her favorite places to kiss you are your cheeks and your lips

☘️L=love confession(how did they confess to you?)

It was actually an accident. She was ranting to Xander about how much she was crushing on you, and you just happened to overhear. When she realized It she locked herself in her dorm out of embarrassment, but you confronted her about it and confessed. It's the only good thing her luck has ever given her

☘️M=mornings (how do they spend mornings with you?)

Like this, but while cuddling you

☘️N=nights (how do they spend nights with you?)

Teruko falls asleep late (it's probably the reason why she sleeps so much in the morning), so you'll just be doing your own stuff before noticing that it's 1 am and dragging teruko to bed

☘️O=overprotective (how protective are they of you?)

She is very, very protective of you, you're the only person she has left and she is very scared of what your luck might do to you. She always stands near you, keeping an eye on anyone suspicious, and she has a knife in her pocket and is not afraid to use it

☘️P=pet names(what nicknames do they like to call you?)

She's not one for pet names, most often just calling you by your name. the one she goes for the most is babe

☘️Q=quizzes(how much do they remember about you?)

She remembers stuff like your birthday, but she sometimes forgets the more minor stuff you tell her. Don't blame her she's not rose

☘️R=rain(how do they spend a rainy day with you)

You just stay inside and cuddle to keep each other warm. She's scared that if she goes outside, she might genuinely get struck by a lightning

☘️S=service (what are some acts of service they do for you?)

Teruko is not one for acts of service, but if you're having a bad day, she might give you a massage

☘️T =Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She does put a lot of effort into dates or gifts (not into tasks though) the problem is that most of it gets ruined by her luck. She's really happy you still recognize how much she put into it, though

☘️U= unhappy (how do they cheer you up?)

She just hugs you and lets you cry into her. She tells you that it's OK to feel like that and that she'll be with you until you feel better. She's not the best at giving comfort, but if you need it, then she'll try her best

☘️V= value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

You're literally the most important person in her life. You're the only one who is still with her despite her luck and everything. She constantly worries that you'll be ripped away from her like her family. She wouldn't be the same if she lost you

☘️W=wound (how do they react to you getting injured?

Immediately thinks it's her fault and starts apologizing profusely, even after you assure her that she has nothing to do with this she can't shake off the feeling that it was because of her luck. She'll later patch you up. She has a lot of experience, after all

☘️X=Xtra (a random fluffy headcanon)

Sometimes, she has trouble tying her hair in the ponytail, so you help her. She always blushes when you compliment the white/gray part of it.

☘️Y=yes (how would they react to you proposing to them?)

"W-what? Really? Are you actually serious? Do you really....want to spend the rest of your life with me even with my...... thank you, thank you so much. Yes, 100 times yes"

☘️Z=zzz (how is sleeping with them?)

She turns around a lot in her sleep, but she still holds on to you very tightly, so you often wake up because of that. She also snores sometimes

[urdreamydoodles]

hi! i love your work, everyone feels so in-character and accurate!!! i think anyone even glancing at this blog can really tell how much care and love you have for these characters and its absolutely beautiful.

would you be interested in doing a request with the x-men (preferably Logan, Remy, Kurt, Colossus, Cable, Deadpool, and Magneto please?) where reader is a mutant and their main power is that anyone they touch is instantly filled with joy? and the more physical contact they have the more intense the happiness is, to the point where a shirtless cuddling session might accidentally make one of the x-men cry tears of joy.

X-Men x Fem!Reader

Your mutation is to make people instantly happy by touch

As your partner experiences the effects of your unique mutation that brings instant happiness with a simple touch, they find themselves captivated by the warmth and joy you effortlessly radiate.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Colossus, Cable, Wade Wilson, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier & Scott Summers

Good day, my fellow comic book lovers. Yes, I'm back, with even more ideas than before and even more inspiration. I hope you are ready. (And I'm happy to fulfill your request, the idea is amazing. I hope you like it.)

Logan Howlett

- Logan was initially cautious about letting you get close; he didn’t believe that anyone like you could actually find something worth loving in him. He'd tried pushing you away, though you always found ways to make him let his guard down, usually through gentle persistence and that warm smile of yours that could melt adamantium.

- Your powers were unique to him. With his lifetime of pain, his usual cynicism, and a gruff personality, he never expected to find solace in anyone, let alone through something as simple as touch. The first time you brushed his hand during a mission, he noticed a calm he hadn’t felt in decades. It made him think that maybe he could deserve this—deserve you.

- Over time, he started coming to you when things got rough. A hand on his shoulder after a long day, a brush of your fingers on his arm—these small moments were something he’d never admit he was beginning to crave. It amazed him how you could peel away layers of his anger, leaving him more vulnerable than he’d ever allowed himself to be with anyone else.

- Logan had an unspoken rule about keeping his shirt on during your cuddling sessions. He couldn’t figure out if he was afraid of overwhelming himself or you. But one evening, after a particularly hard mission, he came back to you, worn down. This time, as he lay beside you, he let you slip your hands over his bare chest, fingers tracing his scars with reverence.

- The feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. At first, it was a gentle warmth that soothed his spirit. But then, the joy kept building, wave after wave crashing over him, melting away decades of pain. Logan tried to keep his composure, but the intensity of happiness was too much. Before he knew it, silent tears were streaming down his face. He held onto you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder, overcome by the rarest kind of peace.

- After that, Logan stopped trying to keep his distance, feeling like he could let himself be vulnerable with you in a way he never had before. He still rarely showed his softer side, but when he did, you were the one person who got to see every part of him.

- You two shared an unspoken bond in the way he’d wordlessly reach for your hand in a crowded room, or how he’d find you at the end of a long day, needing just a few minutes of your touch to feel whole again. You became his peace, his center, the calm in his storm.

Remy LeBeau

- Remy’s charm was legendary, and he couldn’t resist trying to impress you from the moment he met you. He’d flash you a smirk, tell a joke, or drop a flirtatious line just to see you smile. But when he learned about your powers, he realized it was more than just fun and games. You weren’t someone he could win over with his usual swagger; you touched something deeper in him, something he wasn’t sure he wanted exposed.

- The first time he felt the effects of your powers, he didn’t know what hit him. Your hand brushed his arm, and suddenly, he felt a joy that he hadn’t known since he was a kid, free of the troubles and betrayals that life had thrown his way. For a man like Remy, who hid so much behind his humor and bravado, it was shocking. But he found himself craving that touch, that happiness, in a way he hadn’t expected.

- Whenever the weight of his past sins would catch up to him, he’d come to you, leaning into your embrace, letting your warmth dissolve the guilt that usually gnawed at him. Remy often joked that you were his “lucky charm,” but it was more than luck—you were his reminder that maybe he deserved to feel something good after all.

- One night, you both were curled up on his couch, your hand tracing patterns on his chest, your bare skin against his. It started as a pleasant warmth, and then, without warning, it grew into an overwhelming wave of euphoria. The happiness was so intense that it caught him completely off guard. He chuckled at first, saying, “Cher, I think you mighta broke ol’ Remy,” but then his voice hitched, and he couldn’t help the tears that slipped down his cheeks.

- For a man who always prided himself on staying in control, it was a vulnerable moment. He laughed softly, wiping at his eyes, but you just held him, letting him feel it fully. Remy realized that in your arms, he didn’t have to be the smooth-talking charmer, the rogue who had everything under control. He could just be Remy.

- From that day on, he let himself be honest with you about his past, his regrets, and the mistakes that haunted him. He knew that with you, he could find the joy he’d always chased in all the wrong places. Your touch was a balm to his soul, something he knew he’d never take for granted.

- You’d often catch him looking at you with a softness that no one else ever got to see, and when he’d pull you close, it was as if you were the one thing in his life that made sense. In you, he found a kind of love and joy that filled all the gaps he’d spent years trying to ignore.

Kurt Wagner

- Kurt was enchanted by you from the start. With his deep-rooted faith and complex past, he saw you as a gift, something almost divine. Your presence seemed to bring light into his world, and he found himself drawn to you in a way that went beyond simple attraction.

- The first time he felt your powers, it was as if his worries and insecurities melted away, replaced by a gentle, all-encompassing happiness. Your touch brought him a kind of peace he hadn’t known since before his mutation became visible. For Kurt, who always struggled with acceptance, your touch was a reminder that he was worthy of love, just as he was.

- He cherished every small gesture—the way you’d run your fingers over his skin, your gentle hand in his when he’d had a tough day, the way you made him feel seen. It was as if you understood the parts of him he rarely shared with anyone else, parts he kept hidden even from himself. With you, he didn’t have to hide.

- One night, as you lay side by side, you rested your hands on his bare chest, skin to skin. The feeling started as a soft, warm glow that spread through him. But then, it deepened, filling him with such overwhelming joy that he couldn’t contain it. His vision blurred as he felt tears welling up, and he turned his face into your shoulder, his voice catching as he whispered, “Mein Liebling… I have never felt this happy.”

- The tears that followed were unexpected, but he let them fall, finally allowing himself to experience the joy you gave him without holding back. In that moment, he felt an intense gratitude—for you, for your touch, for the love that made him feel more human than he’d ever dared to hope.

- From then on, he became even more openly affectionate, his love spilling out in everything he did. He would trace gentle patterns on your hand, whisper sweet nothings in German, or look at you as if you were the answer to every question his heart had ever asked. He felt blessed, and he’d tell you so often, his voice filled with awe and reverence.

- You became his sanctuary, his safe haven from a world that so often judged him. With you, he found not just happiness but the acceptance he’d longed for. Kurt would hold you close, his tail wrapping around you as if to anchor himself to this joy he’d found, promising you silently that he would cherish every moment.

Piotr Rasputin

- Piotr is gentle and considerate, always cautious with his strength. When he met you, he was amazed by how someone so powerful could be so soft-hearted. At first, he worried about your powers, fearing he might become too reliant on the joy you brought. But soon, he found himself yearning for your touch after long, grueling battles, especially when he could let his guard down around you.

- When you first held his hand, he was hesitant. He’d always been a bit self-conscious about how different he looked, but you just smiled and took his hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your touch brought him a gentle warmth, melting away the insecurities he often carried with him. With you, he felt seen and accepted in ways that no one else had ever made him feel.

- Piotr isn’t one to ask for too much, but he found himself drawn to your touch like a magnet. After particularly rough missions, he’d quietly seek you out, hoping for a moment of comfort. You never made a fuss, just let him sit beside you, holding his hand or leaning against him as the joy you radiated worked its way into him. It became a cherished ritual, something that made the hardships of his life feel bearable.

- One night, Piotr finally allowed himself to lie beside you, skin to skin. At first, it was a gentle happiness that filled him, but the longer you stayed close, the more intense it became. The warmth grew into an overwhelming bliss, and for someone as stoic as Piotr, the depth of it caught him off guard. His breathing became uneven, and before he knew it, he was crying—tears slipping down his metallic cheeks as he held you close, speechless.

- He felt almost embarrassed afterward, but you just smiled, wiping his tears and reassuring him. That moment marked a turning point for him. He realized that with you, he didn’t need to hide his emotions, that it was okay to let himself feel. You brought out a side of him he thought had been lost long ago, one that still hoped, dreamed, and loved with a full heart.

- After that night, Piotr grew even more attached to you, finding peace in the quiet moments when you’d lie together, sharing warmth and joy. He’d often spend those moments in a comfortable silence, simply holding you, feeling grateful for the happiness you’d brought into his life.

Nathan Summers

- Nathan has seen his share of hardship and pain, coming from a war-torn future where joy is rare. He was wary of you at first, seeing your powers as a potential weakness in a world that demands toughness. But as he got to know you, he realized that the joy you brought him wasn’t just a temporary distraction; it was something he hadn’t realized he’d been desperately needing.

- You first touched his hand during a quiet moment, and he felt a strange peace wash over him. He was stunned. Joy was a feeling he hadn’t associated with himself in a long time, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. But after that first taste, he found himself seeking your company, your touch, whenever he felt the weight of his responsibilities bearing down on him.

- Over time, Nathan came to cherish the sense of calm you gave him, though he would never admit it outright. Instead, he’d make excuses to see you, dropping by under the guise of “checking in” or “needing advice.” You’d smile knowingly, reaching out to him, and the tension would melt away from his face as your touch brought him a happiness that felt out of reach otherwise.

- One night, Nathan finally allowed himself to be vulnerable, lying beside you without his usual armor, letting himself feel the full effect of your touch. As you traced your fingers over his scars and metallic arm, the joy started to overwhelm him. It was so pure, so intense, that he felt his defenses shattering. His throat tightened, and he could no longer hold back the tears that streamed down his face.

- You didn’t say anything, just held him close, letting him process everything he’d buried under years of battle and hardship. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt light—almost as if he’d been granted a glimpse of a different life, one filled with peace and contentment. He hadn’t thought it possible, but you made it real, even if only for a moment.

- After that night, Nathan began to trust you with parts of himself he’d never shown anyone. You became his safe haven, the one person who could ease the storm that constantly raged within him. He’d reach for you whenever he needed grounding, finding solace in your presence, and for once, he allowed himself to believe that maybe he deserved to feel happiness, even amidst the chaos.

Wade Wilson

- Wade was fascinated by you from the start. He was used to people either fearing him or finding him too much to handle, so when you treated him with kindness and didn’t shy away from his scars, he was hooked. At first, he thought he’d be immune to your powers, but your touch affected him in a way he couldn’t explain—and for once, it left him speechless.

- Wade’s sense of humor often masked his pain, and he’d joke endlessly about how “lucky” he was to have a “happiness generator” like you. But deep down, he was in awe of you. You brought him something he hadn’t felt in years: genuine joy. He often found himself seeking your touch after missions, feeling the chaotic noise in his mind quiet as your presence filled him with peace.

- Wade was so accustomed to hiding behind his jokes and bravado that he didn’t know how to respond to the warmth you gave him. You’d touch his hand, or hug him after a tough day, and the happiness would radiate through him. For someone used to constant pain, both physical and emotional, it felt almost surreal.

- One evening, he finally allowed himself to let go of his usual defenses. You sat close, tracing gentle patterns on his scarred skin, and the happiness flooded through him, stronger than ever before. The joy grew overwhelming, melting away the hurt he’d carried for so long. Wade tried to crack a joke, but his voice wavered, and suddenly, he found himself laughing and crying at the same time, his heart pounding in his chest.

- He tried to brush it off, saying something about “emotional overload,” but you just held him, letting him feel without judgment. Wade had spent so long hiding his vulnerabilities, but with you, he didn’t feel the need to. He clung to you, grateful for the comfort you provided, for the happiness that didn’t demand anything from him but to just be.

- After that, Wade made it his personal mission to keep you smiling. He’d bring you flowers, tell you absurdly bad jokes, and remind you constantly of how much he cherished you. You were his anchor, his light, and the one person who saw past the madness to the man he rarely showed anyone. In your arms, he found a joy that, for once, he didn’t need to laugh away.

Erik Lehnsherr

- Erik’s life has been filled with loss, pain, and a single-minded pursuit of justice for his people. When he met you, he saw your power as a beautiful contradiction: something gentle yet capable of profound influence. Your ability to bring happiness through touch initially seemed trivial to him, but he soon learned its incredible value, especially as you softened the edges of his hardened heart.

- The first time you touched Erik’s hand, he resisted, fearful of showing vulnerability. But even the brief contact sent a surprising warmth through him. He’d spent so long submerged in anger and grief that this unexpected peace felt foreign. Over time, he began to seek out these moments, allowing himself to feel the comfort you provided in small doses, though he’d never admit how much he craved it.

- Erik wasn’t accustomed to softness, and at first, he found himself pushing you away whenever he felt the effects of your powers becoming too strong. But gradually, he began to allow himself more of this joy, savoring the brief relief you brought to his restless mind. You became his oasis in a life filled with darkness, a reminder of a gentler world he’d almost forgotten.

- One evening, after a particularly difficult confrontation, Erik finally allowed himself to be vulnerable, lying close to you, letting his guard down completely. As your touch filled him with happiness, the intensity grew until he could barely breathe. The joy was overwhelming, washing over years of pain, and before he knew it, he was trembling, tears streaming down his face as he held you close, finally allowing himself to let go.

- Erik felt embarrassed afterward, but you reassured him with gentle words, wiping his tears away. He realized then that, with you, he didn’t have to be the hardened leader all the time. For once, he was allowed to be just Erik, and you cherished him for it. This vulnerability only deepened his love for you, making him fiercely protective of your presence in his life.

- From that moment on, Erik allowed himself to indulge in the joy you provided, even if only in private. He’d come to you after every struggle, finding solace in your embrace. You became his sanctuary, and though he remained resolute in his mission, he held your love as a reminder that beauty and goodness still existed in his world, grounding him in ways he never thought possible.

Charles Xavier

- Charles has always been a compassionate leader, dedicating himself to helping others. When he first discovered your power, he was fascinated by the effect you had on others. He viewed your ability to bring joy through touch as a remarkable gift, one that held potential beyond the typical mutant powers he encountered. Over time, he found himself drawn to you, grateful for the solace you brought into his life.

- The first time you touched Charles’s hand, he was pleasantly surprised by the calm that washed over him. Years of telepathic stress and the weight of his responsibilities melted away, if only for a moment. He quickly realized that your presence was unlike anything he’d experienced before. You were a beacon of peace, something he hadn’t realized he needed so deeply.

- Over time, Charles found himself coming to you more often, especially after long days spent guiding and protecting his students. You became his retreat, a safe place where he could rest without the weight of the world on his shoulders. He admired your strength and cherished the way your touch brought him a rare sense of tranquility, allowing him to recharge and continue his work with renewed purpose.

- One evening, Charles allowed himself to truly relax in your arms. As he lay beside you, your touch grew more intense, filling him with such profound joy that he felt all his worries dissolve. The happiness was so powerful that he could no longer hold back the emotion building within him. Tears slipped down his face as he clung to you, overwhelmed by the depth of the joy he felt.

- You held him close, letting him process the weight of his emotions. Charles hadn’t allowed himself to be this vulnerable in years, and with you, he realized that he didn’t have to carry everything alone. Your love reminded him of the beauty and kindness he fought to preserve, rekindling his faith in a future where mutants and humans could coexist.

- After that night, Charles became even more devoted to you, finding strength in the joy you brought to his life. He would often reach for your hand during moments of doubt, feeling your touch ground him. You were his reminder of what he was fighting for, a symbol of the peaceful world he envisioned, and he cherished every moment spent in your embrace.

Scott Summers

- Scott is disciplined, focused, and sometimes emotionally reserved, the weight of his responsibilities often making it difficult for him to relax. When he met you, he was hesitant, unsure if he should allow himself to get close to someone so gentle-hearted. But you quickly won him over with your kindness, and the joy you brought him became a welcome contrast to the structured, intense life he led.

- Your touch was a revelation to Scott, who was so used to suppressing his emotions that he hardly recognized the calm happiness you stirred in him. At first, he tried to downplay it, insisting that he was fine without it. But he found himself seeking your presence more and more, grateful for the way you helped him unwind and escape the pressure of leadership, even if only for a while.

- Scott isn’t one to openly show vulnerability, but with you, he felt a rare sense of peace that allowed him to let down his guard. You’d hold his hand or lean against him, and he’d feel the stresses of the day melt away. Slowly, he came to cherish these moments, finding that your touch grounded him in ways he didn’t know he needed.

- One night, after a particularly intense mission, Scott allowed himself to be fully open with you. He rested beside you, letting your touch wash over him without any resistance. The joy you brought grew until it became overwhelming, filling every part of him with a profound happiness. He found himself overcome with emotion, tears slipping down his cheeks as he realized how much he’d been holding in.

- You comforted him, holding him close as he processed the depth of his feelings. For Scott, this was a turning point, showing him that it was okay to rely on someone, to let himself feel happiness without guilt. You reminded him that he was more than just a leader; he was a person worthy of love and joy, something he often forgot.

- After that, Scott became incredibly protective of you, seeing you as a constant source of strength and peace in his life. He’d come to you after every battle, every difficult day, finding solace in your touch. You were his reminder that, despite the constant struggle, there was beauty and happiness worth fighting for, and he held onto you with a newfound appreciation for everything you brought into his world.

[lambilegs]

strawberry lip gloss

where you and lee, one of your close friends, decide to have a totally platonic and super friendly sleepover (wink wink).

contains: bestie!lee, reader who owns makeup, brief discussions on the expectations of makeup in the workplace (set in the nineties, so going off those expectations), contemplations on femininity, slight nsfw content towards the end (so minors dni!!)

“you know, your house would make for a perfect serial killer movie,” is the first thing you say upon lee opening the door to you.

“well, even if I managed to forget it, I’d be reminded by you saying it… every time you come over,” she dryly replies, opening the door wider to let you in.

you nearly skip inside. sure, you had been at lee’s place tons of times during the months you two have been friends, but today is different. today, you’re sleeping over. god, you’re still not completely sure how you had managed to bring such a daydream to life. it had all started two weeks ago, when you had stayed over particularly late, watching movies with her and arguing with her as to why her theories on the killer in the show you’re watching made no sense, with her not missing an opportunity to rebut and drag in all of her extensive fbi knowledge. 

when it was time to leave, she insisted on driving you back home, seeing as it was midnight and she thought it too late for you to take the bus back on your own. despite the half hour drive it would take, she, as always, fulfilled her promise, the two of you listening to the radio as the windows were rolled down, the chilled autumn breeze refreshing and invigorating. 

your mind had been pinpointed on one thing, one question, the entire drive, but your stomach was a mess of webs at the idea of asking her it. but, right as you had placed one foot out of her car, ready to leave, you turned back. “lee?”

she quietly turned to you, eyes curious.

“would you be comfortable if I slept over sometime?” at her slow blink, you rushed to erase any possible connotations to your question. “I-I mean, just because, you know, I stay back late sometimes, and this would be easier on you. but, yeah, only if you want.”

she glanced away, staring past the window for a few seconds, before turning back to you. “sure.”

jesus, it unnerved you when she did that. sometimes, the most contemplative look would settle on her features, as though she’s searching her mind for some explanation of where atlantis is. then, she’d turn back, and reply as coolly as ever.

you knew she wasn’t one for jumping up in her seat and letting her voice reach several notches higher when in agreement of something. but, still, the casual way in which she replied made you worry she had perhaps just taken pity on you, or felt pressured. you knew she was a wholly honest person most of the time, and couldn’t lie for shit, but still. maybe she felt bad for you since you’re a friend, or just felt less enthusiastic about the whole thing in general.

a week later, she had called you to talk over an article she had read in the newspaper that she thought you’d be interested in. a month ago, she had started doing that, after once giving you a newspaper clipping she had cut out, to which you insisted she could just call you. in all honesty, your insistence was really just an excuse to call her and hear her voice. not that the gesture went unnoticed. when she had first handed you the thin flap of paper, awkwardly explaining that she thought you’d like it, you nearly melted into a puddle on the spot from her kindness. when you thanked her profusely, she just nodded quietly, avoiding your gaze, clearly uncomfortable with the bouts of verbal affection.

during this phone call, you had asked her when she was free next, and when she admitted to friday evening being her only time available for a longer hangout since she got off at 7:00PM, you whined on the phone, complaining that’d only give you two so much time, since she wouldn’t reach home until 7:45PM. 

on the other line, lee’s lips had curled up at your petulant tone, and her stomach flipped at your honest, exposed want to see her. she couldn’t help but like it — how you didn’t try to diminish your desires or mince them up into digestible slices for anyone. how she could have confidence in your friendship. 

mind reeling back to your words, she had hesitated, before saying, “you could sleep over?”

and, duh, you said yes. which led to your exact position now, with you kicking off your shoes at her front door, a backpack pinching at your shoulders, duffel bag gripped tightly in your palm. lee immediately stretches her arm out, fingers brushing yours as she takes the duffel from you, hoisting it onto her shoulder and silently padding through her wooden home to the living room, setting it down. she’s out of her shoes, in a dark pair of socks, remnants of her work clothes still wrapped around her body. her fbi badge is rolled up and lying on her desk, belt hanging on the chair, leaving her in her dark slacks, a deep maroon shirt and mused ponytail. your fingers twitch, itching to comb down her brown hair, which is practically a glowing halo on her head from the golden light filtering through her windows.

you set your backpack down near the couch, which you flop down on. “how was work?”

“good.” she slowly approaches you, gingerly seating herself upon the arm of her couch. when you give her a pointed look, she looks away. “tiring. everything in this case is dependent on the minute details.” she hesitates, sucking in an exhausted breath. “I feel like I’m racking my brain every moment of the day to figure it out.”

you nod, shifting your body so you’re turned to her, the side of your torso pressed into her cream couch. “that’s understandable. it’s like a puzzle.”

her lips press together. “it is. but, one that feels like I can never put together perfectly. there’s always one piece misshapen.”

you frown. “that sounds really fucking frustrating.” she nods, eyes downcast. the bags under them are darker than usual, and something in your stomach squeezes softly at the sight. “it’s really admirable, though, how hard you’re working to fit and find all the pieces.”

she blinks at you. “it’s my job.”

"and? that doesn't mean everyone in your position would have your goodness and integrity. they should, of course they should, but still, give yourself some credit for being so invested and determined, lee."

her lips part, words catching in her throat, before closing them again. she doesn’t know what to say. it isn’t the first time you’ve praised her so earnestly, but she still doesn’t know how to handle it. she isn’t used to it. most of her coworkers see her as a mixture of passive and emotionless, while simultaneously being someone who cares too much. there had been all too many times where a partner of hers just wanted a quick arrest, but she insisted on more, pushing for all the details to be flushed out and explained, no matter the toll it'd take on her. she knew it wasn't ideal for them, but she didn't care about what was ideal and easy to wrap up. she cares about what’s right.

she knows this, but to be complimented for it unnerves her. she doesn’t think of herself as some sort of extraordinary, let alone admirable, person, and she doesn’t expect compliments to come her way because of her work. so, to receive them, and be face to face with how someone else sees her actions, gives her a rush of surprise and embarrassment. 

she shrugs. "still, it's just the right thing to do. that's all."

you smile fondly at her. her downplay of her actions makes them all the more admirable to you. she's humble to a fault – sometimes, you think it endearing, and other times, you want to shake her and scream at her about how good she is. she doesn't seem to realize it enough.

after silence hangs between you two for a few minutes, she clears her throat. "so, how do we do this?"

"do what?"

she stares at you, perplexed. "the sleepover."

laughter immediately bursts from you, arms crossing over your stomach. "do you want a rulebook or something?"

she rolls her eyes. "I mean, what do you want to do right now?"

you flutter your eyes at her mockingly. "oh, I don't know. let's play truth or dare and talk about boys."

she scoffs. "sounds fruitful."

seeing her reaction only heightens the urge to annoy her more. "truth or dare, harker?"

she glances at you, lips pursed in unamusement. when you continue grinning, goofy and wide, she sighs, eyes sliding away. "dare."

you whistle. "oh, wow, I'm impressed. someone has guts."

"you do remember my line of work, right?"

you ignore her. "hmm... what's a good dare?"

even though she knows you're just playing around, she can't help but hold her breath in anticipation. she can tell that you love pushing at her buttons, almost as though you want to test how much she’ll deal with if it’s you in question.

"I dare you to drive me to the grocery stores, so we can get snacks." you throw your legs off her couch, grabbing her keys and tossing them her way.

she catches them with ease, not even flinching. the sight has you gulping – god, that was damn attractive.

as she bends to retrieve her shoes, she looks up at you. "you know, I do have some snacks here."

you raise a doubtful eyebrow at her. "cereal is not a snack."

"yes, it is. you can eat it with your hands, and it comes in small proportions.”

"same with peas," you swiftly remark, pulling a face with her. "do you consider peas a snack?"

she nods, her face the epitome of seriousness. "yes."

you giggle, opening the door to the cool evening, sun dipping into the horizon. the sky is painted with streaks of blush and peach, kissing the trees surrounding lee's home with warmth, the yellowing leaves glowing.

she walks ahead of you, tugging the passenger door open for you. you feel butterflies swarm into your stomach at the gesture, quietly thanking her and sitting comfortably.

at the grocery store, you two languidly roam around, drifting in and out of conversation as you fill your shared grocery cart to the brink. lee picks up a pack of spicy instant noodles, and despite your wince, she smiles and tosses them into the cart. you grab two bags of chips and some sodas. when you guys enter the sweets' section, your mouth nearly juts into an enamoured pout at the sight of her eyes lighting up. 

she picks up a box of brownies, showing them to you, hesitation slowing her moves as though she's a child at show-and-tell. "my mom used to get me these."

gratitude swims in your chest at the piece of information she shares. it took months of knowing her before she started offering tidbits of information regarding herself, especially those having to do with her mother. 

you snatch the box of brownies, plopping it into your cart. "get them."

"are you sure?"

you guffaw. "lee, I'm not going to withhold you from a pack of brownies."

her lip quirks up. "how would I know? you might have very specific regulations for your sleepovers."

you roll the cart away, relishing in how she immediately falls into step with you, her shoulder brushing against yours. "that sounds more like you, lee."

she snots. "I don't think I've attended enough to qualify as a connoisseur."

you groan. "god, 'connoisseur'? you really are a dork."

her eyes crinkle at your words, almost as though she enjoys your playful insult. "still sure about coming over?"

you bump her shoulder. "yeah, don't worry, you being a dork doesn't make me wanna hold back on a sleepover."

"well, actually, I was asking it more for my own sake."

"oh, fuck off, lee."

when you both return home, you immediately set to taking out your skincare from your duffel bag, heading into her bathroom to wash your face before you get too tired. when you place all your products next to hers, you pause, a part of you feeling nearly giddy with delusions at the sight of your guys' bathroom products next to each other. there’s something so domestic about it.

when you come out in your PJs, lee clears her throat at the onslaught of shyness beginning to worm its way through her. she's already nervous for the sleepover as is, but seeing you in this state, in the clothes you sleep in, feels all too intimate for her to handle. she rubs her hands together from where she's seated on her couch, trying hard to think of the right way to proceed. 

after her eyes dart between your finger and the coffee table in front of her a few times, she stands. "I'll go shower and change. you can, um, order the pizza."

when she re-enters the room a half hour later, it's your turn to feel your face heat up, forcing your eyes to remain locked onto her television. god, how the fuck does she make wet hair look good? it isn't your first time seeing her in such a casual state, but it still gets you flustered nonetheless to see the ever-so professional agent in such a cozy change of clothes.

"let's watch Scream," you say, trying to maintain some normalcy amidst your thumping heart.

from where she pats her hair down with a towel, she warily watches you walk to her television and set up the movie. "okay, but I'm not driving you back home at 4:00AM if you get scared from all my windows after."

you pout at her, walking back to the couch and grabbing the remote. "you're so mean. you wouldn't do that for me if I was really scared?"

she gulps, feeling something in her knees buckle at the sight of your lips softening into a frown. she hates to admit it, but she'd probably go so far as to give you a piggyback ride back home if you truly needed it. "well," she mumbles, trying not to give too much of her feelings away, "you wouldn't have to be scared. I'm here."

the proclamation makes you swoon internally. "oh, yeah? you'd protect me?"

"well, I'm not in the habit of letting friends get stalked and harmed in my presence, so, yeah."

you nearly glare at her as she continues wringing her hair out in the towel, bare feet softly thumping against the floorboards as she approaches the couch. she isn’t wrong – of course she wouldn't let any of her friends get harmed. she wouldn't let anyone at all get harmed in her sight, period. but, her admission only means that your attempt to flirt has crumbled into the wind, and she totally missed it.

you try again. "yeah, but, you know, are you that protective over all your friends?”

she seats herself down on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankle. “I guess so.”

you nearly roll your eyes. “all?” 

“yes?” she glances at you with knitted brows. she doesn’t understand why you’re pressing when it comes to such an insignificant question. her answer is true – she would protect anyone she could, and that includes friends. “why?” 

“no, no, just asking.” you try to avoid her gaze by switching on the television. it’s so unfair – how the moments when lee does make eye contact, it’s the sharpest, most intense act in the world. maybe it’s just her fbi skills or her natural tendency to observe coming into play, but when she looks at you, you feel like she can crack open your mind and read every thought.

“why did you ask more than once?”

“well, I,” you splutter, “I was just curious if it was a me thing or an all-your-friends thing.” the words feel so weak to your ears, and you wince. it’s true, but you’re definitely trying to play up the nonchalance as opposed to what you really feel inside.

“it’s for all my friends.”

internally, you deflate. you give her a small smile, feeling immensely pathetic. “ah, okay.”

lee’s eyes rove over the side of your face. your lips are pinched down, and you blinked faster at her words when she spoke them. she wonders if what she said hurt you. she doesn’t understand why – she cares for more than one person, and caring comes with wanting to protect them. it wouldn’t be reserved for any singular person, it’s an automatic for her as soon as she cares for anyone. so, then, why does she feel guilty? she sighs. she supposes what she feels for you is strong enough to have her feeling bad even when it makes no sense. 

lee glances at you again. you’re quiet, and staring blankly at the television. okay, so it seems like you might indeed be upset. tentatively, she says, “but, that doesn’t mean you’re not, um, important.” after a pause hangs, she adds, “to me, I mean.” the confession is one that has an uncomfortable heat reaching her ears. it’s not often that she says something so honest and open, and well, affectionate to you. the words taste foreign on her tongue.

but, it’s worth it when you give her a wide grin. “yeah?” 

she nods quietly, hoping you’ll drop it and not tease her. 

apparently, she’s an idealist, for you shift closer, cooing at her, “awe, so you care about me?”

she sighs. “please turn on the movie.”

with a chortle, you obey her request, switching on the film. inside, you’re still overwhelmed by what she just said. lee wasn’t one to mince words, so if she said you’re important to her, she must mean it. and that does something to you – it makes you warm and flushed inside out with delight.

as you watch, you find your gaze drifting to lee, who watches the film with intent focus, eyes honed in on the screen. she’s not the hugest fan of horror films, you know that, but still, it’s her innate instinct to observe and, if applicable, solve any film you have to show her. and you have shown her many. she’ll sometimes complain and grimace if you propose to her one she doesn’t find appealing, but she always gives in. you smile at the thought. you don’t know if she returns your romantic feelings, but even if she doesn’t, her natural care is enough to give you some fulfillment. at least right now.

you continue to stare. her lashes are so long and pretty. even without the mascara she usually puts on for work or going out. her brows are dark and bold, just like her sharp eyes, and her nose is long and pointed. her lips, thin and pink, look so soft. she’s beautiful.

lee can feel you watching her. there’s a heavy weight bearing on her from your gaze, and she tenses up, fiddling with the loose threads of her sweater. she wonders if you’re judging how she looks or simply observing her. after a moment, she can’t take it anymore. her head tilts towards you. “what is it?”

you internally curse. god, why did all your sense of subtlety completely vanish when you have a crush? you cross your arms over yourself, trying to shrug off the question. “nothing.” you know you can so use this opportunity to your advantage, as a way to flirt with her, compliment her, but you hesitate. you already got caught staring at her, so complimenting in addition to that might be too much. but, still, you can’t resist. you want her to know how pretty she is. “you just… you look really nice right now.”

the corner of her lips flinch and she blinks harder at the television. no smile, no laugh – you know she must feel awkward or embarrassed with the attention. with a tight nod, she mutters, “thanks.”

“you know, you don’t even need the mascara, your lashes are already so long.”

the lashes in question flutter as her eyes flicker about. “I just wear it for formality’s sake.”

you nod slowly. you had assumed as much. and with that thought, comes a new idea. one that has your lips curling up in mischief. “would you ever let me do yours?”

“do my what?”

“makeup.” 

she seems deeply confused. “why, what’s the point?”

“for fun.” your lips quirk up, turning fully to her. “besides, haven’t you heard? this is a quintessential part of sleepovers.”

“hm, is it?” a slight smile rises to her lips, the laugh lines at the corner creasing beautifully. like gift wrapping paper. folding and pressing to hold something tender within. “I guess you won’t take no for an answer, then, right?”

“nope.” 

she snickers quietly, shaking her head. “fine. just this once.”

with an eager squeal, you hop off the couch, racing to where your backpack lays in her bedroom. you rummage through for your makeup bag before dashing back to the living room, where she’s carefully twining her hands together in her lap, watching them.

“I’m guessing we won’t watch the movie.”

you still at her voice. despite having chosen the movie yourself, and her not enjoying horror, it sounds like she’s actually disappointed at the idea of ending it early. the thought makes you both touched and momentarily saddened. “no, no, we’ll keep it on. you can watch, and I’ll listen.”

as you seat yourself cross-legged on the couch, facing her with your right side to the television, she glances at you wryly. “except this is a film, not radio.”

you snort, unzipping the bag. “I’ve seen this film before, I won’t miss anything.”

lee’s eyes peak at all the products, widening a bit. she was never one for makeup herself. she just never had an interest in wearing it, and a lot of it usually made her feel uncomfortable due to the stimulus of it. the only reason she dabs some on for work is merely because it’s protocol, the way her badge and uniform is. she knows it’s expected of her, and she’s fine to apply just a faint amount of it if it means she can head to work and start on her assignments without complaint. 

“not a lot, though,” she says, feeling a tad intimidated by all you have. all she owns is one tube of mascara, one lipstick that nearly matches her exact natural colour, and foundation that she rarely uses. “it doesn’t feel comfortable on my face.”

“okay, okay, I’ll just do eyes and lips, then.” you couldn’t really care less, in all honesty. you’re just happy to have free reign on her face in any capacity. for at least now, you have an excuse to ogle her. “okay, turn to me.”

she frowns. “you said I could watch.”

“ugh.” you roll your eyes, lips pinched as you try to think of a solution. one starts blinking in your head, but it’s going to require a lot of proximity. your mouth twists in both amusement and shyness. it’ll be closer than you’ve ever been to her, but again, the makeup is working miracles with how perfect of an excuse it is. you might as well utilize it. “okay, then, can I just…” you stretch one leg over her lap, foot resting against the arm rest. it gives you the chance to be close enough to her that you can keep your back facing the television, while she can continue watching.

lee’s breath hitches at the casual display of intimacy. she knows friends do this kind of stuff – even her own friends do it. but, with you, it’s different. because not only does this physical link create the same awkward tension it does with most people who she’s unaccustomed to sharing such intimacy with, but mixed in is a pit of desire, craving for you to get even closer. maybe press your chest to hers, sit fully on her lap, tuck your head under her chin. these longings – she’s been having more of them lately, and they grip her so fervently she’s not always sure what to do with them.

“is this okay?” you ask, your eyes imploring.

she nods, not trusting her voice. 

you pull out a brush with a small bunch of bristles at the top. “you’d look good with these tones.” you point your brush at the brown shades, looking at her expectantly. 

except lee doesn’t know anything about makeup, so she’s unsure as to what kind of input she could provide. “I wouldn’t know any different.”

“which makes you the perfect victim for this.”

she raises an eyebrow. “victim? should I be concerned?”

“maybe just a bit.” with a smirk, you lift the brush up, feeling tingles in your hand when you press the side of it to her cheek, lifting the brush. “close your eyes.”

she delivers you a pointed look before shutting her eyes. “I don’t know how I feel about being at your mercy like this.” her voice is hushed in a light, teasing tone.

“don’t worry, the brushes aren’t the most efficient weapon,” you giggle, swiping the light, cream coloured base along her eyelid. even this part of her is so pretty, glowing under the orange light of her cottage. 

she mutters, “it’s not very reassuring that the reason I should feel safe is because your brushes aren’t a weapon rather than due to your decision-making skills.”

you burst into a loud bout of laughter, stilling the brush for a second. “hey, listen, they always say living with a friend can make or break with what you guys have, so I don’t know, maybe you’ll piss me off tonight and I’ll get some wandering thoughts.” you continue dabbing the power on her other eye, brush stroking in smooth, gentle sweeps.

“might I remind you whose house this is? and who’s the fbi agent here?”

“no, you may not.”

a small huff of laughter puffs from lee’s lips. she doesn’t think she’s ever told you this, but it’s easy to have this back-and-forth with you. it’s not often that that happens – not that she has many long term bonds to use as reference points. but, she usually struggles, even with coworkers she’s known for years, to lose herself to an easy, effortless conversation. it took time, yes, but with you, it feels as instinctual as brushing her teeth in the morning. lest for the few tense moments that arise from her attraction to you. she usually tries to ignore those.

you swap brushes, patting the new one gently into a darker shade of brown. you hesitate before gently grabbing her chin, keeping her steady. you can see the way her throat bobs at the touch and it sends a surge of pleasure and itching curiosity within you. does your touch ignite something in her that hers always does for you?

you start dipping the brush into the crease of her eyelids, and you stifle a laugh when she hums quietly. “enjoying it?”

“it feels okay.” 

“just ‘okay’?” you press with a coy smile. 

“mhm. you’re too unsteady for it to feel truly good.”

your eye twitches, refusing to give into the amusement bubbling in you. “oh, fuck off.”

a few minutes later, you pull back, admiring your handiwork. “open your eyes.”

she does, and her eyes pop out a bit more than usual with the shadows surrounding them. she blinks tentatively, looking a bit like a startled deer caught in the middle of the road. 

“very pretty,” you laugh, patting down her warm cheek affectionately. and it’s true. it’s different from her usual look, that’s more than evident, but she still looks beautiful. 

lee hums thoughtfully, shifting her gaze back to the television. this is an embarrassing position for her, to say the least. and she’s acutely aware of the anxiety beginning to rise within her stomach, giving it a dull sort of ache. she’s not necessarily insecure about how she looks, but there’s something deeply exposing about having your face so close to hers, and having every minute detail of hers fully revealed. the touches you’re giving don’t help either. the brushes of your fingertips against her skin, the warmth of your breath on her chin, the lingering of your gaze. each miniscule movement you make on her face has her shoulders unintentionally tensing.

when you start drawing a faint, brown line along her lash line, her closed eyes immediately squeeze. 

“lee!” you whine loudly. “stop moving.”

“I’m not.”

“yes, you are! your eyes keep flinching.”

her eyes open and flick towards your eyeliner. “you’re poking me.”

“I’m not!” you laugh, leaning in close again, the thigh of your extended leg pressing against her stomach. feeling the soft firmness of it makes your gut turn, and you try to ignore the contact, praying the effects of it don’t show on your face. “just try to relax your eyes.”

you start pressing the point of the pencil in, drawing the eyeliner carefully. you bite your lip in concentration, moving carefully.

her eyes pinch together again. 

“lee!” you scoff in exasperation. “I am begging you, please stop your damn eyes from moving.”

she cocks her head at you. “it’s out of my control. besides, it’s uncomfortable when you draw it.”

you snicker, muttering, “oh, strong fbi agent, my ass.”

“what was that?”

you flash her a sticky sweet smile. “oh, nothing.”

“mm.” as her eyes shut, and you continue your ministrations, trying to lighten the pressure of the pencil for her sake, she mumbles. “I am stronger than you.”

“oh, yeah?” you know it’s true. the girl across from you has been through years of training in police work, the academy, and a work out routine she’s stuck to since she was twenty and decided to go into law enforcement. but, you can’t help it, you just love challenging her. “prove it.”

without a moment’s notice, her hand darts up, latching onto your wrist and keeping your hand hovering above her face. you grunt softly, trying to shake your hand out of her grip, but her fingers clutch onto you with an unwavering strength, keeping the limb locked in place. her eyes are still closed, but a faint smile plays on her lips.

after a few more seconds of struggling, you sigh, voice slightly petulant as you say, “okay, okay, I get it, let me go!”

“do you get it?” lee taunts back quietly, grin widening. it’s satisfying, in a way. you’re always all talk with her, teasing her mercilessly, trying to get a rise out of her, annoying her. having moments like this where she gets the upper hand are amusing, to say the least, and she takes a secret pleasure in them.

and you? well, thank god her eyes are shut, because that little comment, and the tone she says it with, have you shifting in your place, trying not to draw attention to the movement by stiffening your leg on her lap. there’s something so attractive about it. lee has her insecurities, yes – as her friend, she’s revealed some of them to you during late nights spent at cafes and aimless drives. but, she also carries herself with a quiet, subtle sort of assertiveness that is wholly enticing. nothing too showy or obnoxious, but something. something that makes her just look so cool, even when she’s not trying. and now is one of those moments. with the way she doesn’t even struggle with holding you in place, how she’s nothing but silently humoured. the sight has a flood of lewd thoughts worming its way into your mind and you try to shake them from your head.

“yes, yes, I do,” you groan, wrist tugging from her hand when she finally releases. you twist it tenderly, pouting at her. “you’re such a dick.”

she cracks one eye open. “for taking on a challenge you initiated?”

your eye nearly twitches. “yes, exactly. now close your eyes.”

her smile remains. “mm, okay.” 

after finishing the eyeliner, your watchful gaze roves over her open eyes. her eyes are already so breathtaking as is, but the eyeliner makes them pop out even more. “good.” 

the mascara is the easiest. at least, you think it should be for her, since she applies it everyday already. but, you? you have to lean your hand along her face in order to stop it from shaking. those dark irises are zeroed in on you, latching onto your face as she keeps her gaze steady to make your task easier. the silent gesture is kind enough that you internally melt, just a bit, while the focus she’s staring at you with makes you feel like all your nerves are prickling. 

“do you like the mascara?” you ask, trying to break the awkwardness. 

lee pauses before answering. “no. it took a while before I got used to the feeling of it.” she’s not fond of it, just accustomed to it. frankly, the first few times she put it on were unbearable. she kept accidentally blinking and getting it smeared, and would struggle to strain her eyes in order to keep them wide open for its application. she sometimes poked herself in the eye, too. it made her feel a bit embarrassed back then, to struggle like that. most women had learned this kind of stuff at an earlier age, but here she was, barely able to keep her hand from trembling at twenty-two. she’s just never felt drawn to it.

she sometimes wonders where this lack of desire comes from. for so many other women her age, it’s so easy, so natural, to engage in these rituals of femininity. but, for her, it just feels foreign and uncomfortable. even now, she’s only at ease with the situation because it’ll only be you who sees her. if it was any other circumstance, she’d be unravelling at the seams.

she supposes it’s just a matter of preference, for the older she’s gotten, the more people she’s encountered like herself. it’s a comfort of sorts. but, it wasn’t always this way. as a preteen, it made her feel lonely and even more estranged from her peers, to be a girl who didn’t like what they liked. to be a girl who felt shrunk into her body when she tried on her mother’s makeup as a desperate attempt to see if she could adjust to it. 

“why do you wear it, then?”

she starts in surprise, the trail of her reminiscing breaking. “it’s what’s expected at work.”

“why?” you chuckle. “you’re an fbi agent whose job it is to get her hands dirty.”

the irony isn’t lost on lee. “I know. but, that’s just how it is. it’s, um… a small price to pay if it means I get to do my job without any comments. and I don’t mind it so much now.”

“still, it’s not fair. you should be able to wear none at work without dealing with comments or judgement.”

part of her softens at your fervent defense of her. “I know. I thought it was really unfair at first, too. but, older women in the field told me to just do it to avoid comments. so, I did.”

“how obedient of you,” you drawl out in a low, teasing voice, giggling when she flashes you an exasperated look. 

lee hates how the words make something stir between her legs. sometimes, your teasing takes on a sexual note, and she’s well-aware that you’re just trying to annoy her. but, still, she can’t help but sometimes wonder how it’d feel like to make good on what you say. maybe do something to get you quiet after making one too many innuendos.

the laughter ceases, and you continue in an earnest voice. “but, yeah, I get it. you just want to be able to do your job without hearing shit.” 

she nods, grateful you understand. as you continue, her fingers flex, for she feels like she’s under a microscope under your flickering eyes, which run along her eyeline and leave her feeling painfully aware of that part of her body. she tries not to move too much, but nervousness swells within her, so she focuses on rasping her fingers along the couch.

a few minutes later, when you get to her lips, you smile in pure mirth as you retrieve a tube of pink, glittery lipgloss. 

she glances down at it warily. when you give her a questioning state, she sighs and mutters, “you’ve already gone this far.”

you nearly squeal in glee. but, the intense joy morphs into a slow burn of tension when you cradle her chin and start applying the product. her lips are so fucking pretty, and it is so unfair. they’re already pink and naturally shining, and your mind is whirling with thoughts of how they’d feel under yours. the sound of the film becomes white noise in your mind, fading into the background as you become consumed with thoughts of nothing but her stomach against your leg, her hand so close to your knee, and the little breaths parting from those lips.

when you’re done, you shakily pull back, feeling hot to the touch.

lee eyes you carefully. you look a bit nervous, eyes darting between her eyes and lips, and exhales coming out a bit heavier. the spot your gaze seems to keep shifting to has lee’s breath stilling, fingers digging deeper into the fabric of the couch. her stomach flips the more she thinks about it. you’re so close, your leg warm on top of hers. and your hands were so gentle in handling the lip gloss over her mouth. she can’t help but wonder if you’d be that gentle in other ways, too. 

you swallow hard. perhaps this wasn’t a great idea. maybe it’s good that she’s always been someone who you were never too touchy with due to her aversion to it. because being this close to her now, her breaths close enough to tickle your skin, her lips impossibly shiny and tempting, is absolutely fucking torture. it has you wanting to throw caution to the wind, and close the gap, and potentially ruin one of the best friendships in your life.

you can’t. you shouldn’t. you just can’t.

but, then, her eyes linger on your mouth, and, probably without even realizing it, her tongue snakes out to lick at the gloss. 

fuck. maybe you can.

you raise a trembling palm to her face, cupping it and letting your thumb linger at the corner of her mouth. “you–you look good.” if she rejects you, you can at least say you’re just inspecting her face.

she hums. after a beat, she murmurs, “so do you.”

you throb at the words, biting your lip. she looks down again.

your thumb swipes the corner of her mouth, and lee freezes at the brief touch. her eyes seek out some answer in yours, anxiety whirring in her stomach of what could happen if she’s reading this wrong. and even if she isn’t, what will happen to you guys, your friendship, if something happens?

“listen, promise me you’ll forget about this if the answer is no.”

she gulps. “okay.”

“but, can I, um, kiss you?”

her reservations crack. even if you guys talk about this later, even if it turns out you want different things, she’ll still have had the chance to kiss you. she’s wanted it for so long, and if she gets it, she’ll at least be able to have the satisfaction of knowing what it’s like. even if it turns out you don’t want her in the same way, the uncertainty will be quelled, the fantasy eased. she knows it’s the unwise choice, the impulsive one, but to say no feels impossible.

“yeah.” 

your stomach lurches at the answer. you had hoped for it, ached for it, slightly suspected it, but to hear her, your friend, actually confirm it feels surreal. it feels like you’re half stuck in a daydream you had left at her door when you walked into her home this evening. the world around you seems hazy, just a bit softer at the edges.

when lee feels your leg tensing against her, she draws in a long breath, then inches in closer. “come here.” 

the soft-spoken words, a gentle command, finally shake you out of your thoughts and you find yourself powerless to her, winding your arms around her neck and pushing your lips to hers. the first thing that hits you is the sweet, strawberry taste of the gloss, the sugary flavour wrapping around the tip of your tongue as it sweeps along her bottom lip. she opens wider, and you move deeper, your tongues moulding against one another. the wet, squelching noises of the kiss have your hips flinching against her, and you can only pray she doesn’t notice.

but, it’s lee – of course she does. she tries not to smile as she feels your body shifting against hers, using the opportunity to pull you forward and onto her lap. when she feels the solid weight of you there, an instant sense of comfort wraps around her body. it’s you, her friend. even if this is new and carries its risks, it’s still you. she trusts your guys’ ability to handle this, whether it be shifting your friendship into something different, or choosing to let this go, even if the latter would tear at her more than she’d like to admit. she tries not to think of it and focus on the present moment. as difficult of a task that is for her.

because, no matter what, god, do you feel good. lee’s breath hitches in her throat when you start grinding down on her lap. she lifts her thigh up, pressing it against your crotch, satisfaction running through her when you whimper against her. she does it again, rubbing the hard muscle of it against that spot you’re clearly trying to sate some feeling in. you practically hump against her thigh, lips moving faster, and lee’s mind becomes overrun with the soft, wet noises of your mouth, and the way such an intimate spot of yours is bouncing against her thigh in such a lewd manner.

and you’re so eager, too – something that gets her mind spinning. your tongue keeps lapping at hers, and your mouth moves with a fervent pressure, as though you can’t get enough. not that she can, either. her hands are splayed along your back, gently encouraging you to continue riding her thigh, and she feels like she can do this for hours.

pleasure courses through you at the touch, and you can’t hold in the moan that flies out. you immediately press your lips back to hers, quietly moving them together, your tongues meeting to roll within the sweet opening of her mouth. you lick deeper – you’ve worn this gloss countless times, but on lee’s lips, it’s addictive.

after a few more minutes, you pull away, immediately giggling upon the sight of her pink lip gloss smeared. you rub the pad of your thumb on it. “you know, it’s kind of strange to kiss you while you’re wearing a look you usually wouldn’t be caught dead in.”

she laughs lightly, and you want to drown in the noise of it. “you got your way in putting it on me, and still, somehow find something to complain about.”

“well, you know, there’s an easy solution for that.”

she snorts gently, pulling you in closer. “yeah, I know.”

and with that, you both lose yourself to the taste of strawberries.

{header by: @anitalenia}

[madelynhimegami]

Satan Guide

(to the anon that requested Maguro, he's next)

Satan's full title is "The Dark Prince Satan." Some apparently aren't aware that he's called the Dark Prince in Japanese as well, so I'm mentioning it.

Likewise, as funny as the "devil from Bible" jokes are, it's just his name.

You know how some people will use the term "dracula" for vampires? It's the same idea here but for demon lords (shoutouts to Gadget).

As for Satan himself, at his core he is dramatic and full of himself. He's also prone to boredom.

He's far and away the most powerful character in the franchise, hands down.

The above two points are closely linked: When you're the most powerful being in existence, it's too easy to just do what you want without consequence.

Hence the other key point of Satan's character, that he is a massive doofus.

He does stupid things on purpose while limiting his power because it creates conflict he's not immediately set to win. This allows for both drama and uncertainty.

That isn't to say he's just playing the fool and is just distracting everyone else. He really is a dumbass, he just also has an off switch for the silliness when the situation calls for it.

Whether Satan's hamming it up, or resembling a wet sock, or gushing over "Carbunny," or does something patently stupid, or behaving childishly, or displaying a fragile ego… that's not a front. That's raw, unfiltered Satan.

Satan's not really evil. He doesn't look for more power, or seek to rule the world, and isn't really into corrpting mortals into doing his bidding, let alone killing them. Guy just happens to be the Prince of Darkness.

Before continuing down this line of thought, let's take a moment to address the elephant in the room that is his relationship with Arle (and by extension Rulue, Schezo, and Carbuncle).

By the time that Madou 2 happened, Satan had become quite lonely, leading to his setting up a find-a-spouse dungeon with himself at the bottom.

It didn't work, since the first qualified person to reach him beat him up ("I shouldn't've skipped breakfast") and took his rabbit with her.

Over the next several games, Satan got the message that Arle was just flat-out not interested in marrying him.

Which was fine. The shenanigans that happened among him, Arle, Rulue, and Schezo led to the four of them becoming friends (for a given definition of "friend," in a few cases), so he's not lonely anymore.

That said, he's still committed to the bit of pursuing Arle without so much as telling her it even is a bit at this point.

Either Satan is unconvinced that his friendship dynamic with her works without him being obnoxious, or he just doesn't want to rock the boat for whatever reason.

Once, his request to marry Arle was accompanied by a Yes/No prompt. Choosing yes has Satan self-sabotage by pleading "Say it again!" until "No" is selected.

Another time, Arle had some memory problems, and actually believed Satan when he claimed that they were engaged. Satan's immediate response was "Uh, Arle? Are you feeling okay?" He then proceeded to drop the bit until Arle got her memory back.

All the same, his affection for Arle is genuine-- though whether it's still romantic, I couldn't tell you.

As for Rulue, he almost certainly appreciates her as a friend, but would prefer her to back off. Not that he can say so, let alone explain why, without breaking kayfabe.

Schezo, Satan is aware, doesn't particularly like him, but does trust him very deep down. That won't stop him from insulting and/or challenging Satan when they cross paths. Satan just plays along because that's also fun for him.

Carbuncle is adorable and Satan delights in showering him in attention when he gets the chance. Carbuncle probably thinks he has the most cringe parent in all the worlds.

Despite his tendency for chaos, Satan is generally against letting things get so out of control that people start getting seriously hurt, let alone become life-threatening.

In addition, he has nothing but respect for the freedom of others, and so will never try to coerce them, abduct them, or otherwise attempt to control them.

Of course, his penchance for shenanigans means that many will assume his involvement in the chaos of the day. They don't trust him to not be involved.

Really, all bets are off until he's confirmed or denied his involvement.

But back to the point. Satan doesn't go out of his way to cause (direct) harm to people, and he respects the free will of others.

So while he could solve most conflicts he's around for, he typically won't do so proactively, just because it would mean committing life-changing (or ending) violence, as well as deprive others involved of making a choice.

When presenting solutions, his method seems to be to first suggest the absolute least desireable one (ie, killing Squares, putting Sig into eternal sleep). Which is actually a useful strategy in giving less extreme solutions a better sense of scale (or so I heard?)

All bets are off if he has any reason to believe Arle and/or especially Carbuncle are in serious trouble.

As previously stated, Satan typically keeps his vast power in check. Manifesting his true abilities causes strain to the surroundings. The general area may start exploding and/or the fabric of reality itself may start to deteriorate.

While Satan generally sports a masculine presentation, he doesn't have a whole lot of regard for gender. He has a bikini for his own personal use, and once expressed desire to be a distressed damsel/princess that gets saved by a hero (read: Arle). And then there's Satan Saturn.

He is over 100,000 years old, he probably existed before humans even had cultural perceptions of gender.

If forced to label him, I'd say Satan is genderfluid.

[thatdogmagic]

That whole thing in March (and July, and August, and), part 2

I'm glad most people aren't up to speed on this. I'm sorry for any confusion. I've tried to put in the basic context of a lot of this but if you're not deep-diving tumblr nonsense you're going to have missed a lot of it. If you did, just be grateful and go about your day; you have my blessing to tl;dr straight out of here.

For the people who know, and stayed: I'm addressing it now because it is demonstrably costing me, personally and professionally, to stay quiet. It hasn't risen to the point of monetary damages that require a lawyer's intervention, but if it does, I have lines out to a couple people to hire. I'm taking this seriously, which is part of why it took so much time to get around to posting.

The other reason I waited is because I had hoped interest in this would fade out/people would be able to read the posts and see them for what they are. But then the site went live, logs got involved, and Ependa (not me) received this in her discord DMs:

That is roughly when I noticed I'd been dropped by a handful mutuals, and I finally looked into what was being said about me, exactly.

I thought I'd had some idea of how bad it was, but I didn't. I was not prepared for what I actually read. I promise you: no one is. Seeing a tidal wave of outright lies about yourself and the person you love, especially when it gets that personal, and is so clearly meant to estrange and humiliate, like.

It's hard to even know where to begin. That last bit makes it particularly difficult to decide what I should actually address or talk about. As a result, this post has been written and re-written several times over the last few months, and it was only recently that I settled on anything.

What I've decided is I'll be doing my best to refrain from addressing the personal/intimate attacks, though some are unavoidable. Make no mistake: those attacks exist only to waste my time and to maximize harm. They're meant to make me engage (and probably, to some extent, drive a wedge between Ependa and I), and follow a long and sustained pattern of Jackal acting out every time she had to take 'no' for an answer.

So, fine. I'm doing this. But I'm doing it on my terms, for my sake, Ependa's sake, and for the sake of a site that I would've found a way to commission one way or another. Because I just want a place for me and my peers to post our queer werewolf art and stories, and I want to eventually help turn it into a fundraising vehicle for our various projects.

I don't care if my name is on it (it is in fact not; Werewolves Versus is not my brand, it's Angela's), I don't care if the only person to ever closely collab with me again on my own personal work is Ependa, and no one else. I don't even care if I get props for commissioning it. I just want the thing to exist, for me and for others, and I don't want the people who use it to catch stupid accusations of 'o so ur working with the psycho transphobe??' because it happens to be in some way tied to me.

So let's start with the factual statements that can be made about the project side of this:

Jackal claim to have started a studio with myself, TrashasaurusRex, and Ependa. The reality, however, is, 'I invited people to a discord server in June-July of 2023, where a studio got talked about on voicechat but no paperwork was ever filed.

There was no studio. There was a *theoretical* studio, but nothing concrete. It didn't have a name. The *site* had a working name (the Mercantile, based on something from one of *my* stories), but that's the extent of it. The steps that would have made us an official studio had not been taken. I know, because I had to keep asking about it.

There was no attached LLC. It's referred to as 'an LLC' in posts because it does not have an actual name. I never put my signature on anything that looked even remotely like an official document. So, if an LLC does exist, and my name/signature appears on any official paperwork that's 'on record' in the state of Georgia, I mean. I don't need to be a lawyer to know there's a problem there.

Jackal claims to have liquidated the studio. That's more creative writing: there was nothing to liquidate. It's just a big word meant to make 'we deleted a discord server and some comic pages scraped together over a few months' sound official. And the server still exists in part, clearly, because it's currently being used to farm Content.

I was the one who commissioned Angela for the site and made all the arrangements. Starting out, I was the sole investor, and would have still been the primary investor once the bill was paid in full. I had also talked about buyout clauses in case we ever got around to *actual* official paperwork. Me leaving with the site was always understood to be an option on the table, in case things went sour.

I left the original idea for the studio/site ('sapphic-specific monsterfuckers') to the others. Nothing is stopping them from commissioning their own site, or building up an actual studio with an actual name under an actual LLC.

It would've been very welcome if all the vague admin work they claim to have done had actually *been* done. Unfortunately, that 'work' amounted primarily to things like being asked to find legal rep, and months later getting only so far as an answer that amounted to 'well my mom knows a lawyer who works for Disney.' That's not a part of the log that will ever get posted, though.

I am the only person in the group with a substantial 'proof of admin work' paper trail on this project. I have my own bank statements, I have the agreement with Angela, I have multiple written documents for meeting plans - many with their original save dates - and I have the paperwork I had started with a payment vendor. The most Jackal has is, allegedly, the paper trail their dad generated to withdraw/transfer the money they were going to use for their part of the investment. If there was anything else, it never got mentioned.

There was no 'gatekeeping the sitebuilder.' Angela asked that the actual, contractual business agreement be made with me exclusively to keep things simpler for her. I informed everyone of this early on. Further, no one was barred from attending my meetings with her, or reaching out to her. At any time, any one of them could have reached her using multiple methods. They knew who she was and she was not hard to find. Further, Angela was kept in the loop every step of the way, even as things started to break apart. She knew I'd be suspending payments when arguments over missed deadlines started to heat up, and I was no longer certain about the group's future. This is something she'll corroborate.

In spite of all this, Jackal and Trish were both still invited to make use of the site when it launched. That offer's obviously rescinded at this point, but I made it in good faith when I said it. It was one of the last things sent to the server and one of the few things I kept in a text file.

For anyone who made it this far into reading this (thank you for that btw), I want you to look at this list and really take it in.

If there are already this many holes in what was posted, please imagine how many holes can be punched in all the other claims being made. Especially where it comes to intimacy. I won't repeat much of it, save this: there was a whole 'Dogblud was into me and was flirting with me' thread to this, in which Jackal took great pains to mock Ependa for just standing around like a dumbass (their words) as I flirted with Jackal in front of her.

Which I shouldn't have to demonstrate is false, to anyone. I shouldn't have to say that throughout the time I was allegedly "flirting" with "my boss" (news to me that I had a 'boss,' btw, suggests I had to pay $5k for the privilege of being an employee?), I was spending the vast majority of my time with Ependa. And we talked, constantly, about everything that was happening. She always had final say on how I did/didn't behave in VC and in that server, and was in fact very much present when I had to tell Jackal I would not engage in on-site ERP, silly or serious, without Ependa's approval or say-so. It is not my fault Jackal chose not to hear that.

They *did*, however, hear me talk about how Ependa and I expressed ourselves with each other. Heard me say that we use Phoebe and Lacey as proxies sometimes, understanding that they're not literally projections of ourselves, just characters with some significance to how we became a couple. In the posts they made about my conduct, by their own admission, they chose to remove that from its proper context, and superimpose it on to the professional arrangement we made with each other to write/draw sapphic comics with our respective characters.

Like, that was the whole premise of the site, sapphic monsterfucking; we had long discussed using the 'star power' of our characters to sell it, since our audiences had an investment. The note about Phoebe and Lacey was quite literally the backbone of the rule we had for porn scenarios depicting them, re: 'never one without the other,' so it's weird to see that turned around to prove there was rampant flirting on my end.

Aside, but, that Jackal has to paint herself as the boss in the situation is interesting. Because-- and I'm not rearranging what she's saying here, or remixing it, I'm taking at face value what's being implied.

Her being the boss implies that Ependa and I agreed to an 'employer/employee' relationship with terms that were never discussed with us. Primarily, that any discussion of 'we will be talking about our characters fucking/fucking around one another/(the usual porn comic nonsense goes here)' would be interpreted as flirtation, when that was literally part of the job we were signing up for. That we were, in fact, being weirdly entrapped?? in more of an intimate relationship with this person than a working 'we are collaborating on a project' relationship.

I'm not pointing this out to be dramatic, or raise additional allegations. The vibe was meant to be loose because of the type of business we were talking about. I'm pointing this out to say that Jackal's lies are pervasive enough to self-contradict, often, about *a lot* of things, even to the point of painting themselves in an even more unflattering light than I ever could.

So, no, if she chooses to keep this going, I'm not going to waste my time swatting down every little thing she has said, or will say; I won't go out of my way to give proof of each and every lie being false, or give my side of the story each and every time some piece of the log has been stitched together to prove with 1000% certainty that I kill babies with slingshots or whatever else it is that's being said about me on any given day.

...

All this, because they took it really personally that I tried to move on with the investment I made, with money I earned over ten years of working full time on a 12a-8a shift, holidays included.

I shouldn't have to say this, but I don't owe that investment to anyone, least of all someone with whom I was fundamentally incompatible, on a working level, and with whom no formal agreement was ever signed.

I don't owe Jackal the keys to that site because she invited me to a discord server one day. I don't owe it to Jackal to drop the site entirely, and wave goodbye to $5k of a meager life savings, simply because we followed in the footsteps of so many other artists: ruining our entire friendship by trying and failing to work together on a professional level, without necessary guard rails, because we were arrogant enough to think 'with us, it'll be different!'

It's the same story with HaliteaTiger, at the end of the day.

Yes, I will be addressing the logs, and yes, I do own what I said. I'm not going to pretend that wasn't me or that what I said was appropriate or excusable. But I will say that the story presented is very conveniently slanted, ignoring nearly 3000 pages of ongoing context. Which did happen to include many, many discussions about where I was at in terms of aggressive meltdowns, with everyone involved, long before we ever worked together. I never lied to anyone about that, or hold it against them if it turns out to be too much.

End of the day, they were just as keen as I was to willfully ignore all the warning signs, spoken and unspoken. That the fit wasn't right, that this thing or that thing was *off*, that this was already showing signs of faltering because (xyz thing).

Which is really the thesis of this story. It's going to keep being the thesis by the time I'm done writing all of it out. Everyone involved, myself included, was so caught up in the opportunity we all saw in each other that we all mutually ignored multiple red flags, and got burned by that. As is often the case.

The finer points of all that are for another post. This one, I'd prefer to keep more or less contained.

[triangulumlights]

Some Until Dawn stuff y'all might not have seen! These are from the files for the 2012 Alpha and 2011 First-Person Demo. The first is an early version of the 'Events of the Past' totem video, and the second is a neat little live-action mood/aesthetic/theme video.

[admiral-bennetts-aide-de-camp]

a lot of people talk about abed comparing troy to comfort TV, but not enough people talk about the implication of how, by saying that, abed positions himself as a parasocial fan

[hanzajesthanza]

geralt "i will NEVER deadname my best friend" of rivia

"he will ALWAYS be dandelion to ME"

[all-eyes-no-dragon]

I wanted to rec this for a while. This is the most amazing humans are space orcs story I've ever read. It's called, "In Search of Home".

It's an original work so there's no fandom you need to know to read it, it's over 362,000 words, which is more than decently long, and has an ongoing sequel that's surpassed the word count of the first story (we love getting closure 💞). It has a happy ending (not a spoiler, it says in the tags) so don't worry about your heart breaking too much.

I'm rereading the first story and I feel kind of cool knowing the alien words.

I cried reading it, I laughed, I felt victorious. I love it so much and want more people to know it exists because original works aren't as popular on ao3.

Mind the tags!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43547319

Summary:

[thewingedbaron]

I’m really really curious how Pike’s arc is going to go in the next couple of seasons.

By this point in the campaign she was rebuilding the Everlight’s temple in Vasselhiem. She’d reconciled, working along side her goddess to help bring some worship back.

In the show, shes rejected her. She doesn’t wear her symbol around her neck anymore. We already had the reconciliation, Pike wasn’t forced to choose anything, only to be true to herself. But, after the conversation with Zerxus, she’s rejected Sarenrae again.

I’m so so curious where this is going later. Pike’s relationship with the everlight is such an important piece of her character and has had a pretty significant impact as far as C3. What’s the plan for the show now? Pike seems to be of special blood, something the Whispered One needs for some purpose (as teased by Zerxus). Is pike going to need to make up with her goddess? Have we abandon her completely? Pike’s powers don’t seem to have gone away?

Can’t wait for season 4.

[bumblingbabooshka]

B'Elanna, Neelix, Tuvok and Chakotay needed to star in an episode where they just talked about their different beliefs and approaches to spirituality/religion. Paired off and all together. I need to gain more insight. I need characterization and I need it to be messy.