#very very happy with the result of this and I had such a good time with this collaboration!!! :)
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Frowny Face
Summary: Nobara and Itadori try to figure out the similarities between Megumi and his son. They manage to find that the infamous Zen'in frowny face is a dominant trait.
Tags: Megumi x F!Reader, Humor, Fluff, SFW, 1200 wc
Notes: I had this drafted for weeks. After seeing the epilogue and the grandkids, wish I had posted sooner, I felt there wasn't a more appropriate time for this. Happy belated-birthday 'gumi.
“No, no, look again, he definitely has his eyes,” Itadori points out.
Nobara lowers her face towards the baby currently blinking at the two of them from the comfort of his plush crib. Megumi stands off to the side, arms loosely crossed over his chest and an increasingly spreading scowl as his two friends, if he could call them that right now, poke and prod at his kid.
Nobara was the first one to point out how much his child was growing and starting to resemble his parents before noticing that his new emerging features leaned heavily to your side of the family, leading to this search to pick out their similarities.
“I’m not seeing it,” Nobara disagrees, failing to find the hint of dark blue that Itadori swears he can see in the baby’s right pupil. To her, all she can see is black all the way through both eyes, like the majority of the Zen’in clan geezers from those centuries old family books she helped Maki trash; unfortunately, this didn't include Megumi so they couldn't even count it. With a hand on her hip, she turns to Megumi. “Sheesh, he doesn’t resemble you at all. The misses really said copy and paste, huh?”
Megumi huffs, about three seconds away from shooing them into the kitchen where you’re making dinner. That’s until Itadori pipes up, “Sure he does.” And for a second, Megumi thinks they’ll finally drop this silly discussion. “He has the same grumpy face his dad does.”
Megumi sighs. He should’ve known better.
“Now that you mention it,” Kugisaki can barely contain her laughter as she reaches into the crib and gently pinches a chubby cheek. Your son makes no expression at her playful squeeze or poke to his belly. His tiny legs kick the same way any other baby would when tickled, but the flat line on his face refuses to budge. “This is the least smiley baby I’ve ever seen,” she concludes while Itadori nods in agreement as he goes in to tickle the baby’s foot – just to make sure.
Megumi knows the two idiots don’t mean any harm by it, being the person to receive the brunt end of their jokes and observations over his life, the kind that can only be made out of innocent obliviousness and overconfidence, but he can’t help but feel more defensive when it’s his kid.
“Do you two have nothing better to do than to shame a baby?” he gripes. “It’s late, go home.”
“Oh, lighten up, we were only teasing. He’s adorable,” Nobara dismisses as she notes how much bigger her future-partner-in-crime has become over the past few months. Looking back on it, she can’t recall any time she’s heard him laugh or much of anything. Sure, she’s seen him get fussy while babysitting, but she’s rarely heard him cry. “But you have to admit he isn’t very expressive…for a baby,” she mentions with a hint of concern, concern that isn’t needed from Megumi’s point of view.
“Maybe you two just aren’t funny,” he says, watching the way Itadori attempts to get his son to laugh by making silly faces; it results in little more than a fist full of pink hair getting tugged.
“I’m being serious. I mean…” she tilts her head, trying to word it delicately. “Does he smile at all?”
Megumi nods. “He smiles.”
“Does he?” Itadori presses, craning his neck as he struggles to free his hair.
“He does,” Megumi repeats, his eyes softening at the memory of that innocent and joyful giggle he first heard like an unimaginable dream come true. “It’s just when you’re not around.”
Nobara rubs at the back of her neck apologetically. “Sorry. I didn’t mean any offense by it. He’s a good baby,” she compliments before moving to help free Itadori’s hair from his iron-like grip. “And strong too,” she adds, looks at him, and clicks her tongue when she once again fails to find the bit of blue Itadori mentioned earlier, but it provides an opportunity to cut through the awkwardness they unwittingly created. She fakes a sigh. “Unlike your genes. I don’t think they even had a battle plan.”
“Very funny,” he puffs out between their chuckles then he hears another voice coming from the direction of the kitchen.
“That’s not true,” you say as you pad into the room with a milk bottle in hand, the grin on your face trembling as you try not to laugh with them. “They have a lot in common.” You begin to list off on your fingers. “They both like the same fruit and animals, he really likes books when you read to him, and do you think his hair maintains itself?”
Nobara breathes out an "oh" at your explanation. “So, he gets mom's good looks to balance out dad's aloof personality? Makes sense."
Your resistance breaks as you let out a giggle, ignoring the pout on your husband’s face. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”
“No, we should really get going,” Nobara states with a small yawn. “Mission reports won’t write themselves.”
You nod, handing Megumi the bottle of milk as you walk the others to the door and wave them off.
“Have a good night,” Itadori calls out while Nobara makes you promise to phone her tomorrow and to come hang out if you’re free.
Locking the door, you walk back in and head towards the crib.
“You really shouldn’t entertain them when they get like that," Megumi reminds you.
“You know they only do it to mess with you. It’s how they show they like you.”
“You mean they’re idiots.”
“Yet you open the door right up every time they come over.”
Megumi gives you a doubtful look. “Not by choice. It’d be like trying to stop a rampaging bull from barging in,” Megumi states, and you let out an amused huff.
No matter how much he complains and comments that they haven't changed one bit after leaving school, he enjoys them. You remember how excited he seemed when Itadori called to ask if it was okay to pop in since they were nearby. Well, excited in that he immediately started to straighten out the house even though he had already cleaned earlier that morning. It's cute little quirks that often gives him away and the ones that make you like him even more.
“If it makes you feel better, I think you have a great personality and good looks,” you compliment with a brush of your hand over his hair. You look down at your son, who still seem unmoved by all the events of the evening. It makes you laugh because Nobara and Itadori were right. Your son does have Megumi’s ever-dull facial expression.
“And both my boys have the cutest frowny faces,” you say, holding up your son to your face to nuzzle his nose. As you pull him away, your eyes brighten at the wide smile that flashes on his face followed by a warm giggle. “Hello to you too,” you coo and cuddle him again, causing another fit of giggles to fill the room, and the sound resonates in his chest and makes him forget any problems that arose on the way to getting to this point in his life.
“You forgot to tell them one thing,” Megumi says, coming forward to kiss your temple. As he told the others, his son does smile, and Megumi does too. “They both smile when they see mommy.”
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⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙
oddballs and eggnog
goofybf! x THICC male reader
summary: love me a nerdy man that’s got a lil spice to him. plus a lil xmas lore!
notes: HI BEAUTIFULS! merry xmas to those who celebrate. it’s been a while fr, my bad dawgs uni work has been ploughing my ass so violently im reconsidering if a degree is even for me. but as a masochistic bottom, i had to channel my energy elsewhere; thus, this fic is just me showing the variety of my tastes as the true indecisive femboy that i am. show me a cute guy and i will plan my whole life with him. i need to get a grip.
originally, i canonically wrote this character with ginger hair (y’all know i fold for redheads), but the more i kept writing, the clearer it became to me that dark brown hair/black aligned with my OWN understanding of him. it’s all fiction anyways so feel free to adapt body types as you see fit. enjoy my lovelies 🎀
album rec: flo - access all areas. these girlies have my heart. been following them since about 2022 and they are genuinely my fave artists, cannot wait for flo world domination.
you guys had mutual acquaintances for a couple years, but it wasn’t until the two of you got to university that your friendship really blossomed. the engineering student didn’t have the best luck when it came to relationships; in fact, people would only toy with his emotions when they wanted something from him, so he learnt to put up a wall of cynicism.
these barriers he had fortified for his own protection made him quite a reserved guy. never cruel or nasty. just quiet. sure, he wasn’t a complete loner, he had a few VERY close bros who he’d let in, but it was clear that in this silence, he was safe.
he’s super handsy, whether that means pulling you on his lap, be it at parties or when he’s gaming, or placing his hands in your back pocket when y’all walk to class, he just wants to hold you. probably got something to do with the fact that he needs to make sure you’re real and not the angel he believes you to be. you love your needy bf and his craving for physical touch.
this is kinda juxtaposed by how flustered he gets by your words. the minute you whisper in his ear, he could cum in his jeans on the spot. he gets so red when you compliment him which makes him squeeze you tighter.
he wasn’t a virgin before meeting you, he’d had a few hookups but nothing sexual with someone he genuinely cared about. as a result, it made sense why he was very nervous when it came to your first time together.
to relax him, you decided to give him a blowjob to ease the tension and allow him to cum quick in the first round so he’d last longer during anal. sat back on the edge of his bed, he wore a vest and baggy joggers, awaiting your fingers to unleash his raging boner. you knelt down and flashed a comforting smile to him, which he failed to mirror perfectly.
‘we don’t have to do this if you’re not ready to. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.’ you said concerned, stroking his abs, clear to you that he was stressing.
‘nah baby, i want this so bad. it’s just gotta be really special because you’re really special to me.’ he said gripping your chin.
‘i love you, y/n. like a lot.’
‘i know that you weirdo, i love you too, you mean so much to me.’
‘now, lemme show you how much.’ you said coyly, to which he was more than happy to oblige.
when i tell you, your man eats so well that his cum is literally like milk. the typa white, thick, pearly cum that you would swallow every drop of, because it truly is just disrespectful not to. the first time he came was a surprise for the two of you. he didn’t realise how much he loved seeing his cum all over your face, decorating your juicy, wet lips. the head you gave him was so good, he napped for 2 hours straight after you drained him. but that deffo changed him for the better.
his hobbies include boxing and gaming. he’s such a nerd he makes his own demo projects, playing with his classmates. you always chastise him for not making his hobby a lucrative endeavour - your boy’s got a talent and he doesn’t seem to know it. equally, he loves his legos and comics just as much as he enjoys coding, making you the prettiest bouquet of lego flowers for your first date. after spending some time walking, he took you back to his place and y’all spent the entire night binging his favourite marvel and dc films.
one time it was his birthday and you thought it be a good idea to make a short graphic novel of the journey of your relationship - ending steamily with you pregnant.
‘baby, i love this so much! who knew how sexy you’d look with a baby bump?’ ‘anything can happen in the multiverse’ you laugh, as he kissed your jaw.
‘I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight.’
as we have established, he’s far from experienced. he holds your hand through missionary always because it makes him feel safe. makes so many jokes during it as a way to deflect. lowkey loves being choked. you took the lead most of the time before, using him as a pole and ride the shit out of him.
but, that night he ploughed you with a sense of purpose, so deep and mercilessly that your insides were moulded into an incubator for any hypothetical foetus he would soon impregnate you with. after, he laid curled up next to you, caressing the belly that he had now filled with
‘i hate biology sometimes,’ he says breathlessly. ’you’d look so good with our lil baby growing inside your belly.’
your boyfriend is the goofiest mf ever; playing practical jokes on all his friends and fulfilling his role as your comedian. definitely one of your favourite characteristics of his.
his sleeper build is INSANE. he might appear tall and lanky, but he is far from it. bench pressing more than 100 kilos with one arm - the brudda is basically superman. he’s what you’d get if clark kent had ginger hair, and was a huge weirdo.
though he cannot dance to save his life. he used to be very awkward and shy, but the minute them clothes are off and you two are in the sheets? stroke game is giving pornstar baby girl lemme tell you! ever since your first time, it’s like you awaken the sexual drive in him that’s been missing all his life. this, paired for his complete adoration for you makes him a lethal weapon in bed - quite literally, your man casually packs an 8 inch pussy destroyer with veins that massage and pummel your gummy walls so well.
after this moment he became the BIGGEST TEASE. slapping his dick all over your face. as you chase his dick like a good puppy, he giggles at how desperate you are. ‘sweet Jesus you feel good’. ‘holy shit’. ‘don’t act like you don’t love it.’ painting hickeys all over your neck . he loves when ppl ask you because of how flustered you get, makes him want to mark you more. he’s no longer shy to the world and he thanks you everyday for that. living to call you princess - in both a mocking and endearing tone, he loved toying with your nipples because you’re his lil doll. in cowgirl he will play with them whilst jerking you off to get you to cum all over his abs. and! he LOVES eating ass - like almost obsessively, as if he’s high of your pussy.
he smells so good. so good. you always act like a bitch in heat whenever he steps out of the shower with a towel skimpily wrapped around his adonis belt.
your bf loves playing with his cum and using his dick as a paintbrush to decorate your belly, butt, and face. ‘my masterpiece’ + ‘my muse’ he professes. somehow managing to entrance you to always stroke his dick during makeout sessions. he brings his hands to play with your hair, knowing that his dick is in extremely good hands with you - literally. always pulling you off of his dick because he is really sensitive and ur mouth is a fucking weapon, but will show you that he’s the boss and could leave you bedridden for a couple days after a good fuck.
things he would say drunk off of eggnog:
‘i would die a happy man beneath those beautiful cheeks of yours’
‘put ur hole on my North Pole.’
‘ay, you Don’t get to call me handsome unless you’re gonna HANDsome of those fat cheeks of yours to my lap.’
‘come on, I’ve been a good boy, Santa says gimme some of that pussy you know I love so much.’
‘that ass of yours, come here lemme unwrap it.’
this man has you written into his destiny. he always dreamed of raising a son and dressing him up in the flyest outfits and with you, that desire became reality. you too truly are a match made in heaven.
⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙
taglist:
@ghostking4m
@gayaristocrat
@lysanderplume
@acoustickitten
#gay#bottom male reader#smut#gay male#gay reader#male bottom#male x male#gay love#gay smut#male bottom reader#male reader#mxm#m4m#gay men#mlm#mlm yearning
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It can't be Christmas without Merlin content, am I right????
Read it an AO3 My general idea of this story is this:
Gwen and Merlin are together at the beginning of it all, they are a happy, smiling, warm couple and everything Arthur would ever have wanted in life. Arthur knew Gwen by sight and had a crush on her but in the end between his father pestering him and his various work commitments and Morgana teasing him he never did anything to hit on her, then Gwen changed companies and the two never saw each other again, at least until many years later when Morgana invited Gwen to a Christmas party and Gwen showed up with Merlin, her boyfriend.
Arthur was even more defeated.
But at the party, relations were re-established, even though it was not his intention, Arthur got on well with Merlin and his small talk, and the three of them started to see each other from time to time outside work. One thing led to another, and at one point it was Gwen and Merlin who asked Arthur to become an item.
Arthur wouldn't let them say it twice.
It was not easy with Uther spouting venomous comments passing them off as (almost) compliments but everyone knew what Uther was like and, for Arthur's sake, left the subject alone.
In the meantime Morgana got involved with Gwaine and there Uther couldn't shut his mouth and tell her how unsuitable Gwaine is for her, that he's a loser, that he's a scoundrel who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life, and Morgana, in response, left without ever looking back, leaving the company and the house she was living in to go and stay in Gwaine's mini-apartment and talk about their future.
Uther didn't take it well and started to lash out even more at Arthur.
Until Gwen became pregnant.
All three were at the height of joy at the idea of having a child and Arthur thought that nothing could spoil such a beautiful moment.
Obviously he was wrong.
Uther started railing and telling him that everything was perfect until it became serious, until Arthur still had the chance to leave that depraved couple and finally find himself a decent girl and get married and have a family with this hypothetical girl.
Then the racist and homophobic invectives began and for the first time Uther openly said what he thought of Gwen and Merlin.
As a result, Arthur was at his wits' end and for the first time in his life raised his hands against his father.
Fortunately Gwen and Merlin were there for him when he returned home.
The two did not speak to each other for years.
In the end it was Uther himself who came crawling back to both his children and asked for forgiveness. After spending birthdays and Christmases alone, without receiving a single call and being left in a huge house completely alone, he realised what the really important things in life are.
That wasn't easy either.
It wasn't easy to accept an apology from such a man because there was always this anxiety that Uther had ulterior motives or, God forbid, wanted to put strange ideas into his grandchildren's heads.
Grandchildren he was not allowed to see even when he apologised and Morgana and Arthur made an effort to talk to him again.
However, when he was allowed to see the grandchildren, both Morgana and Arthur were amazed because Uther literally cried tears of joy (even though he tried to hide them), he had no preference for one or the other and showered them with love (Morgana and Arthur still find it hard to accept this because "UGH who is this man who is good with children?") and after many years they are all happy and celebrate all holidays together.
Uther gets along very well with Hunith (and Merlin is very worried about this) and the house is always full of people coming and going.
Uther no longer lives in a house that is too big and too quiet.
Anyway, Merry Xmas/Happy Holiday everyone ❤️❤️❤️
#mergwenthur#merlin emrys#arthur pendragon#gwen bbc#gwen pendragon#uther pendragon#morgana pendragon#morgana le fey#gwaine#sir gwaine#gwaine bbc#mordred bbc#xmas#christmas#artist on tumbrl#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#merthur#arwen#mergwen#my merthur
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My Top 24 Screenshots Renders of 2024!
I was tagged by the so many lovely mutuals and creators! Thank you @elderwisp, @savagemagician3, @sikoi, @blvckentropy, @mosneakers, & @azeterna! I love yall so much!
I'm so sorry, despite my very best efforts I couldn't choose just 24, so have 30 instead 😅
Looking at all these together, I'm worried I may have plateau'd just a bit 😅 No but in reality, it's really cool to see that I've refined my style and methods over the year, starting in January and continuing it all through 2024. Seeing progress and improvement is one of my favorite things about this process, so doing these recaps is always enjoyable.
January:
Looking back, I'm still so proud of the first dancing set of renders for Ariss & Vasily, and who could forget the first Alice sighting?? I can't, look at her.
February:
February was a bit of a slow month for me but I still love how this A+tM album cover came out!
March:
March was a bit slower, but I love this set of Ariss (:
April:
April was a goood month, I'm still so in love with all three of these.
May:
MerMay was lacking for me a bit this year, but I really love how my contribution turned out (: & this spicy render of Ariss & Vasily is one of my favorites, if for no other reason than his little fang peek.
June:
June was all about Alice + the Madness! & like LEGIT? I still can't believe I made this Rolling Stone cover? I have a secret, I've tried to make another one for Alice, but nothing has or probably will ever look as good as this one so I've given up lmfaoooo
& this render of Erisande was such a labor of love. I sat down and said it'd be really quick and then spent hours editing meshes and adjusting the lighting... but then, that always happens with me and "quick" renders 😅
July:
Bit of a slow month, but I'm still so floored (& happy!) about the love Millie has gotten! This isn't even a completed render and it's one of my most well-received posts to date haha, but I can't blame anyone, look how cute she is.
August:
Ramping up into spooky season we have two of my favorite renders of all time, my "bog demon" and mothwoman! As obsessed as I am with Ariss and Vasily, it's really nice to do creative one-off renders and these were both SO FUN to do. I hope to do more in the new year too (:
September:
This iconic portrait of Ariss will always be one of my favorites (& is actually my computer's wallpaper rn, but a version updated with her 'new' tattoos), & this render of Kai could definitely be improved on (maybe in the new year...) but it was a really fun challenge! I do see flaws in it now but that's growing and learning!
October:
October was (not surprisingly) a very busy month for me! The idea for the render of Theo & Millie had been rolling around in my head since I first created them, & while the end result wasn't exactly what I was envisioning, I still really love how it turned out.
& though this set of renders for Ariss & Vasily took me FOR-FUCKING-EVER, and I see a lot of flaws even now (after trying my damnedest to have NONE), I still really love it. The end result/edit/colorway was NOT what I planned but I really fell in love with it.
November:
November, the month of ambitious scene-building, pose-making, and upping my skin shader game in a BIG way. I spent literal hours perfecting Ariss' new tattoo, and literal days building the scene for that gorgeous render of Kai.
& I'm so glad yall love that pose set! It was definitely a learning experience and a labor of love.
December:
Looking at this overview, December has been dark and spicy lmfao but I actually love it. Once again, all of these took wayyyy longer than I thought they would when I sat down to start them, but I'm genuinely in love with all three!
& that's a wrap (so far) on 2024! I'm having surgery tomorrow so not sure I'll be able to create/post anything else this year, but I have big plans for 2025! So stay tuned (:
I'm tagginggggggg @kuroashims, @a-m-pyra. @acidheaddd, @gothoffspring, @pralinesims, @thebramblewood, @moonfromearth, @nepotisim, & YOU, I want to see all your creations!
(There were a LOT more creators I wanted to tag but I saw yall have already done this!)
#ts4#sims 4#sims#ts4 render#ts4 edit#sims 4 render#sims 4 edit#sims render#sims edit#tag game#top 24#top 24 of 2024#top 2024
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wildfire (cs) | 9.5
—spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.
—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 1.2k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, takes place sometime before the NAS conference!, it's a lil sad ngl - lowkey giving unrequited love vibes
—a/n: my loves, merry christmas eve/merry christmas <33 i wish you all a very happy holidays! i'll try my best to get the space between us three - 03 up this friday, but with xmas and all, it might be a tad bit late. 😅 ty for your support and your patience, i'm v grateful for every single one of you!! ily 💕
Jiung has always cared about you since he met you. He's always been good about it, too. Never suffocating you, while at the same time making himself available whenever you needed him. He was there when you cried over your exes and ex-flings that didn't deserve shit, he was there when you just needed to get away from the house.
He was there when you were trying to figure out what to do with your life— helping you brainstorm and listening to all your if's, and's, what if's. He was there when you needed someone to hold your hair back when you were too damn drunk. He was there when you felt too high and contemplated life when you took a hit of a blunt at a party.
He was there when you doubted yourself, when you just needed someone to reassure you that you were doing enough.
"Sorry. I got caught up with some stuff in lab." You rush over to the table, plopping your things down with a loud sigh. Jiung had been waiting for you at dinner for close to 30 minutes, his texts and calls going unanswered after a simple 'running late - be there soon' text from earlier. It was most likely a mix of you being busy, along with the crap service in the basement.
"All good. You okay?"
"Yeah, I am." You smile at him, a little flustered. You actually were caught up with some project-related things; it was one of those days where things weren't going your way and you were running into every issue you could possibly run into. "Today was just not my day in lab."
"What happened?"
"What didn't happen?" You sigh. "I might ask for your help later with something. I'm not sure I can figure out what's wrong, but you might know some good routes to take." Jiung nods. "But, I don't wanna think about it right now. Need food." You pout.
"Okay, let's get some food in you then." Jiung chuckles. "Why don't you get your food first while I stay with our things?" You nod.
"I'll be back." The NAS conference was coming up soon, but it felt too busy to be excited about the event. Things were ramping up in both labs, and even though a lot of your time had been spent with San, you were busy trying to push your work in the lab in order to help Sunwoo add to his poster presentation. It was a bit of a risk, and you weren't sure the both of you would be able to pull off good, updated results in time— but the universe seemed to be on your side despite all the trials and tribulations you had to endure.
While grabbing your food in the dining hall, a call comes through on your phone and it's San. You can't help but smile to yourself, quickly swiping right to answer. You press the phone against your ear while you continue browsing the various options for tonight's dinner, biting your lip when San greets you so sweetly like he always does on the other line.
You had been planning to hang out with Jiung at the apartment after dinner, being in each other's company like before. Catching up on shows. Plans will probably change now.
"Hi baby. Hope your day wasn't too bad. Are you busy tonight?" San asks.
"It was okay. Ran into some issues in lab but nothing that can't be fixed. I'm at dinner with Jiung and we're probably gonna just hang out at the apartment after."
"I'm sorry, love. As long as you're okay?"
"Mhm." You reply in a sing-song tone.
"What were you and Jiung gonna do tonight?"
"Hang out and chill. Probably put on one of ours shows we need to catch up on."
"I see. That sounds fun, love."
"Mhm." You repeat. "Why, what about you?"
"Nothing. Just be my old man self at home." You snort.
"You said it, not me."
"Yeah, yeah." He laughs. "I just got done working out and was hoping you'd come over."
"I can."
"Sweetheart." He laughs. "You should enjoy your time with Jiung."
"I can always see him whenever and wherever. I can't necessarily do that with you." You slightly pout. Jiung searches the dining hall to see if there are other familiar faces grabbing dinner right now. His eyes land back on you, brows knitting at the way you're talking on the phone and the little mannerisms he's picking up on.
The way you're preventing your smile from getting too big.
Speaking shyly.
Pacing around the room but not really looking at the dinner options.
You're definitely occupied, and Jiung had been noticing for awhile now. He just wasn't sure what it was, and he didn't wanna ask nor did he wanna assume. He figured you'd tell him eventually, but time seems to be passing and instead of you telling him everything like you normally do—
He knows nothing and you seem to be more distant than he's used to.
You hang up the phone after nodding a few times, finally approaching the staff to place your order. You grab your container, along with those chocolate chip cookies you love so much before swiping your ID card and heading back to the table.
"Sorry, Jiung. I gotta go after dinner. Gotta fix up this mess in the lab." You plop back down onto the seat.
"I can come with you? We can take a look together."
"It's okay. I'll just text you about it if I can't figure it out."
"Do you want me to come by later instead then?" You shake your head.
"I'll be there for awhile." Jiung cocks a brow up. "I promise it's all good. I'll let you know if anything comes up." Jiung shrugs. "I'm sorry."
"Mm, it's okay. We can always catch up on our shows later on." He gives you a small, reassuring smile; one that masks how sad he feels deep down. How hurt he feels after the umpteenth time of being put on the back burner. He gets up and heads over to grab his food, internally sulking at not being able to spend time with his bestfriend yet again.
Now, he doesn't necessarily feel like he's there. Not like he used to be. And not by his own choosing, no—
It's because you seem to be distancing yourself more and more each day and he's not sure why.
He's never seen you like this.
Or maybe, he's just not good at navigating this.
Luckily though, he's a bit sidetracked when he returns to the table— eating a rice bowl that he ordered just to order. You update him about things in lab, and the both of you are able to share a good conversation about how things are going, stories about your friends. You laugh and crack jokes with him in your usual fashion. He teases and pokes fun in his usual fashion.
It feels like the old days.
And it makes it hard for him because he sees the same person he's cared for, loved, after all these years.
Yet, there's something about you that's different and he can't necessarily pinpoint it.
He can only hope you're okay, and that you're happy. Doing the right thing. Taking care of yourself properly.
When the end of dinner comes, he still doesn't know what about you is different or who is making you different. He's left standing there, watching as you speed off to the Choi Lab; dealing with the awful, lonely feeling that punches him in the gut every time you part ways without saying much lately.
You don't feel like you're there anymore, and it's unfortunate.
—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling
#san fanfic#san series#choi san series#choi san fanfic#san#ateez#choi san#san x reader#choi san x reader#ateez x reader#kpop imagines#kpop#san x y/n#choi san x y/n#san angst#san fluff#san smut#choi san angst#choi san fluff#choi san smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez smut#hwaslayer: wildfire
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saw ur repost about giving schlatt head under the desk!!! we needdddd a fic of that!
Oooh, I absolutely love it!! Here comes a frustrated Schlatt who just needs a liiiittle bit of relief during his work day!
IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! NSFW CONTENT!
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“God fucking damn it!” A scream cried out from Schlatt’s office, hearing him grumble a few more profanities under his breath as you creaked open the door to your joint office. He had been in there all day, recording for his personal channels as well as earlier recording a podcast session for Sleep Deprived, where he took a very quick lunch break to tease you on the kitchen counter before telling you he needed to record this week’s episode of Chuckle Sandwich. Leaving you high and (not very) dry, you weren’t happy to say the least with hearing his groaning profanities coming from the office. Slipping in without him noticing, you could see Schlatt’s screen, where he was on a call with Tucker and Ted, and it seemed as though they were going over the results of each other’s personality test results. Schlatt had complained to you earlier in the week about how stupid he thought this topic was for the pod—he viewed his Meyers-Briggs results just like how he interpreted his zodiac signs and horoscopes, absolutely meaningless.
“Listen, it’s not that I don’t like the results, that’s not it at all! I just don’t care! I don’t care what this stupid online quiz believes I am!” He ranted, running his hands through his hair before ultimately deciding to rest his hands in the palms of his hands. Through his headset, you could vaguely make out Ted giggling, and Tucker insisting that the only reason he was discontent with the results was because he didn’t like the way he was being portrayed. Seeing how genuinely pissed off he was slowly becoming, you knew it was time to intervene, in one of the only ways you knew how.
Shutting the door as quietly as you could, Schlatt looked up, making eye contact with you. Quickly, you signalled him to keep quiet, circling to the other side of his desk. Confusion and frustration laced his eyes, which must’ve caused Ted to ask if everything was alright, since Schlatt hadn’t retorted to any of the teasing currently going on in the call for a moment. You squatted down, crawling through his organized cords to prop yourself on your knees underneath his desk, directly eye-level with his already semi-hard member.
“Y-Yeah, I’m alright, everything’s good. Stupid cat was about to jump on my desk.” He grumbled, looking down towards you, knowing that he was about to find himself in some trouble. You slowly began to trace the outline of his girth through his readily-available sweatpants, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back. Without much time passing, he was already throbbing against the fabric of his sweatpants. Trying to contain himself on camera, he found himself leaning back in his desk chair, placing his arms behind his head.
“Listen…all I’m saying is…” he tried to continue on as if you weren’t about to make him come in his pants, giving you an opportunity to slip your hands under his waistband to begin pulling them down. Instead of fighting back, he hopped himself up a bit in his seat, allowing you to slide his pants down with ease, his stiff cock already slapping up towards his stomach. Not being able to help yourself, you began to lick your lips as you locked eyes with Schlatt, who couldn’t look away.
“Fuck…I’m so fucked…” he muttered under his breath as he watched your hands begin to pump up and down his length. He made sure to look up, making sure that Ted and Tucker didn’t catch on that something was indeed making him distracted from completing the podcast episode, though you knew in your mind that he wouldn’t be able to help himself once you got started.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t think any of this is shocking, that’s all. I’m bored because it’s–” he stopped mid-sentence from air being caught in his throat as you began to kitten lick his beet red tip, making sure to get every drop of precum off before giving him a kiss. You chuckled to yourself as you slowly began to drag your tongue from the base of his shaft near his balls all the way back up to his tip, making sure that he began to speak again before beginning to take the rest of him in your mouth, “i-it’s nothing…nothing new! This is all…all information I, I already know…” his voice began to trail off with a groan, as you began to take as much of his cock into your mouth as you could fit. His eyes, hooded with lust, looked down towards you as he saw you snake your free hand, the one not simultaneously pumping whatever couldn’t fit into your mouth, down your own lazy day pajama shorts, making figure eights on your clit so you would get your own pleasure during Schlatt’s torture.
“Oh my fucking…oh my fucking god.” He let out a grumble from the back of his throat, trying his best to maintain his composure on his podcast as he got closer and closer to his release. Seeing him crumble under your tongue made you moan harder against his cock, quickening your pace with your tongue and hands. Schlatt managed to take his hand that was squeezing his thigh in an attempt to regain his composure down to your hair, grasping as much of it as he could before pulling hard. The pull itself caused you to moan, but the force alone caused your mouth to come off of his cock with a slight “pop,” saliva strings connecting your swollen lips to his still swollen tip. His eyes told you to finish him off, but he began to push himself back from his desk slightly before clearing his throat.
“Guys…I hate to do this…something, something has literally come..up…I need to hop off the pod to deal with some, business. As soon as I’m finished, I will message you both and I’ll be back.” He quickly stumbled over his words as he logged off his computer, making sure all of his tabs were closed and the computer was shut off before he pulled you out from under his desk.
“Now, toots, you’re going to suck me off until I come down your throat, and then you’re going to explain to me what the fuck you were thinking, coming in and sucking me off like that while I was working. I knew you were a little cum slut, but I didn’t think you were that needy.” He groaned, pushing your head back down on his cock, bucking his hips up into your mouth, ensuring that you were taking all of his cock down your throat as tears welled up in your eyes. He wouldn’t lessen the grip he had on your hair, not letting you up for air, as he mumbled profanities towards you.
“Little slut, thinking you can come in here and get me to stop working…you’ve gotten what you wanted…I hope you can handle it.” He groaned, his hips beginning to buck sloppily as you knew he was nearing the edge. You snuck one of your hands up towards his sack, taking it in your fingertips before fondling it a bit, hoping to speed up his release.
“Fuck, (Y/N)!” He groaned, his hot seed funneling down your throat, letting go of the back of your head. You slowly pulled your mouth from his cock, sitting back on your knees to swallow the rest of his load that remained in his mouth, dazed from having been fucked in the face a little too hard. Schlatt began to pull you up from the floor, pulling your shorts down in the process, so your went cunt sat directly on top of his now semi-flacid, worn out cock.
“Princess, please. Enthuse me. What the fuck were you thinking?” He said, hand gripping your jaw to make sure you were looking at him, as he took his other hand to your folds, finding and beginning to play with your clit. Missing his touch, you let out a hiss before his motions stopped. “Answer me, princess.”
“I…I…” you struggled to get your thoughts out, still being dick drunk as he began to slide his fingers in and out of you. “I heard how…frustrated you sounded on your call…figured I’d help…release some of your stress.” You managed to get out, as Schlatt nodded his head, quickening his pace as his fingers found your clit once more.
“Oh yeah? Is that it? You definitely didn’t want to distract me from my work, right? Make me pause my last session of the day so you could get your quick fuck in, right? Make me absolutely lose my mind on camera, so you can watch later and relive the dirty memories only you and I share, right?” Every time he questioned your motive, he pressed harder on your clit, making you buck your hips against his hand, letting out a mewl from the back of your throat.
“No! No Schlatt, I just…I wanted you to be satisfied!” You groaned as he took his hand away from your clit, picking you up and setting you face down on the bed next to his recording desk.
“Mmmmm, well, princess, you certainly did satisfy me. Now’s my turn to satisfy you before I have to finish working, okay?” He asked, taking the tip of his dick to rub up and down your folds. Before you had a chance to respond, he began to plow into you, snaking his hands to your front, one to fondle your breast under your t-shirt, the other to reconnect with your clit, in hopes to overstimulate you.
“Oh, shit, fuck, Schlatt…!” You couldn’t manage to think straight, your senses being overburdened from the simultaneous stimulation you were receiving all over your body. Schlatt ducked his head down in the crook of your neck, biting your earlobe before groaning in your ear, causing you to let out a moan you didn’t realize you were holding back.
“There we go, princess, let me hear just how good you’re feeling.” He groaned, nipping at your neck as his thrusts began to get sloppy.
“Oh, Schlatt, oh, you’re doing so good…” you started to praise, feeling the familiar warmth beginning to brew in the pit of your stomach, “fuck, think I’m gonna come..”
“Let it out baby, let me feel you come all over my cock…” He groaned, the moment he allowed you to release to felt yourself coming, feeling him pull out his cock to come on your back. Schlatt stood back for a moment, admiring how undone he made you, a mixture of his and your own come dripping down your thigh. He reached over to the nightstand he kept in the room (just in case of quickie moments such as this) to retrieve a cleanup cloth, making sure to be careful around your sensitive, swollen folds.
Sitting back in his desk chair, he patted his lap, signalling you to come over and join him. You managed to stand, waddling over to him before straddling his lap once more.
“As much as I loved that, toots, you can’t just interrupt my work like that.” He let out a low chuckle, turning his computer back on.
“Sorry, just needed you, and could see how badly you needed some release..” you mumbled out, the post-come sleep beginning to hit your eyes.
“Listen, princess. Let me finish this, and then I’ll be back to take good care of you, okay?” He says, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began to carry you back to your bedroom. Setting you down, he covered your body with the blanket on the bed before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. You nodded your head in a “yes,” knowing damn well by the time he was done recording, you would most certainly be passed out in bed. Schlatt let out a chuckle before turning off the lights, leaving you to rest from the ride your pussy just received.
#jschlatt#schlatt#jschlatt x you#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x reader#schlatt x you#jschlatt smut#schlatt smut#schlatt fic#schlatt fanfic#jschlatt fic#jschlatt fanfic
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reciprocity, the heart
Summary: You get married to your lover, Xavier, an alpha. The both of you bask in the afterglow of your wedding night. Tags: alpha xavier/omega MC, top xavier/bottom MC, female MC, aftercare, FLUFF, but implied (although very obviously referenced) bedroom activities, implied subspace on MC's part
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Pure bliss is all you can feel in the afterglow— your heartbeat in sync with Xavier’s, breaths intermingling in the space of your bedroom. Your hands run down the long, red marks you’ve left on your husband’s back as a result of your lovemaking, while he plants gentle kisses along the fresh bond mark on the side of your neck.
“Alpha… Xavier…” you whine softly. You’re still coming down from the very high cloud he’s sent you to, mind all hazy and too pleasured to think straight.
He smiles against your skin, satisfied. “Still sensitive, love?” Another nuzzle across the space between your neck and shoulder. He moves his hands across your sides, soothing you as his knot deflates. The air thrums with the affection between you both. He’s pleased, the smell of lavender and cedarwood in the air. The two of you spend a few more moments in comfortable silence before he decides to move again.
“I’ll pull out now, okay?” You nod, and you smile at him, dazed, but very much relieved.
A soft moan leaves your lips as he parts from you, shared release sticking to both your bodies and dripping to the towel you left on the bed. Your hand shifts to squeeze his, trying to ground yourself. God knows what time it is— after all the guests had left and had given their well-wishes, the two of you rushed to the hotel room, with matching rings on your fingers. The nearby late-night cafes near your suite had quieted down, and the few city lights from the window and your nightlamp cast their gentle light across your face.
You’re beautiful, he thinks. He lifts your hand to plant a kiss on your palm. It’s a stroke of luck written in the stars— to see every expression and version of you. He promised to find you in every lifetime, and he’s still in disbelief— you’re right here in front of him. Whether you’re breathless and blissed out, or composed and focused, you’re beautiful. Xavier doesn’t think he deserves the way you look at him— like he’s hung the moon and stars just for you. He would, had he the power to. For now, he can promise this: he’ll protect you, take care of you, and hold you close for as long as he can. The mark and the ring is a promise to make you happy for the rest of your time together. This time, he’s staying by your side.
His eyes sparkle with so much love that you’re taken aback for a moment. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. So instead of asking, you press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, and he chuckles, kissing back.
I don’t deserve this. And yet, you chose him.
“My pretty,” a kiss to your forehead. “Gorgeous,” another to your cheekbone. “Girl.” Right cheek. “My love.” A sweet kiss on your lips. “My star,” Another right on the tip of your nose. “My wife, so good for me.”
“Xavier…” you pull your lover in for a hug, wanting to remain near him. You sigh as you breathe in his scent. If this is what it’s like to be bonded— claimed for life— then you don’t want to let go.
He brings his hand to your face, gently stroking your cheek, and smiles. Because just as much as he loves to bring you to heaven, he’ll be your ground, take you down safely.
“I’ll get you water, okay? Then after that, I’ll draw us a bath, and get you clean. How does that sound?” The words settle into your mind, sinking, before you finally comprehend them and nod. He kisses your palm again before he gets up slowly and leaves for the kitchen.
A few minutes pass. As the fog begins to clear, the stickiness between your legs becomes much more apparent to you.
Ah… what a mess.
And Xavier… he’d come back, wouldn’t he? The air feels too cold, all of a sudden, and you feel a dull ache in your limbs. You stretch your arms a little, adjusting our position on the bed so you can sit up. But you know you couldn’t stand if you tried. Where is he? You want to hold him, and be held in return while your brain is still on its way down from the high you’ve experienced. The left side of your neck stings a little, and you hiss when you touch it briefly.
Right on time, your husband comes into your shared bedroom with a jug of cold water. A look of worry crosses his face, and he immediately moves closer to check on you.
“Are you… hurt? Was I too rough?”
You shake your head and cough before you start speaking. You really could use the water that Xavier brought. “It’s nothing… the mark just hurts a little, but I’m okay. My fault for touching it when it’s fresh.” Knowing how he gets, you give him a reassuring smile.
The frown remains.
“Xavi, I’m okay, I promise.”
To calm him down, you rub your nose lightly against his and release some of your scent pheromones. The familiar blend of vanilla and lavender is a a warm blanket over his worry, wrapping around it and letting him know you really are alright.
“I’ll get you some ointment later,” he quietly says. Sometimes you think he worries too much about you, but nonetheless, you appreciate his care. It’s cute, and very much Xavier, how he still looks out for you in times like these. Xavier then lifts the jug to your lips, and you take the cue, drinking from it. “Careful now, don’t drink too fast.” He lets go of the jug once you grip it yourself. As you drink, he gazes at you fondly, hand lifting to smooth your hair a little. You don’t need to look in the mirror to see that you’re wrecked, love bites all over you, but unbeknownst to you, you’re a picture of satisfaction. Xavier glances at the mirror, then back at you. So, so pretty. My mate. All mine. Does she know I’m all hers?
From the corner of his eye, he spots the mark he asked you to leave on him. It’s not going to last, an Omega doesn’t have the same canines an Alpha does. But it doesn’t matter. He wants you to know he’s all yours just as much as you’re his.
When you’re finished, you set the almost-empty jug on the side table. “Ready?” Xavier reaches out a hand to you and asks. Confused, your eyebrows knit together, wondering if he really did expect you to be able to walk after he essentially pummeled you into the bed.
“I mean, I can try walking— wait!”
Suddenly, his hand loops around your legs and torso, lifting you in a bridal carry, and the two of you laugh as he brings you to the bathroom.
“Idiot.” Your eyes crinkle as you tease him. “Making me think that I’d have to walk when you know I can’t.” Xavier smiles cheekily and sets you down on the edge of the bathtub before grabbing a washcloth, bringing it under the sink. “I’d never do anything of the sort. Now that I’m your husband, you should always presume kindness on my part,” he quips.
“Do you want me to clean you up or would you rather do it yourself?” Always mindful, always caring of your boundaries, even if he wants nothing more than to be close to you.
“I don’t mind. C’mere.”
He then brings the washcloth to your center, cleaning up the worst of the mess. He runs the rag gently, eyes growing just a shade darker as he cleans the evidence of your… previous activities. Cute.
“You’re trying not to laugh.”
“Am not.” You stifle another giggle.
“Mhm. Just as much as hotpot is served cold and you stop staying up late .”
The corners of your lips turn up in a grin Xavier knows all too well. “And the reason why I’m up late tonight is right in front of me!” At that, you squish his face, gently shaking his head. Even if his face is puffed up because of you, his blue eyes gleam with a joy that’s reserved for when he sees you happy.
After you let go of him, he swipes your inner thighs a few more times, then quickly turns to get the bath ready.
You watch him, pouring the bubble bath mix into the water. My alpha, you think. Xavier is all strong and aloof on the outside, when he’s out on missions with you. People at the Association marvel at his mysterious aura and skill in killing Wanderers. Whether or not he clocks in at HQ, you hear people talk about him, about how the Association’s poster boy is so handsome, but barely mingles, asking questions like “How hard does he train?” and “Does he have a partner?” They don’t even know about the off-the-clock trips he takes to the No-Hunt Zone. And now, said most feared hunter is married and mated to you, preparing a bubble bath, making sure the water isn’t too cold nor hot. He reminds you to take breaks, and invites you to read comic books and stargaze when you can’t sleep. Of course, you can’t forget about how he brings you pleasure and pain in equal measure, right where you want it, and takes you back to Earth after. The dim light of the bathroom and the sound of running water add to the lull of the scene. A warm, fuzzy feeling rises in your chest, and you gaze fondly at him. My mate. Does he know how lovely he is?
Absentmindedly, you reach out to trace the scratches on his back, as if to remind yourself that the man you’ve been thinking about is very much real and in front of you.
“Ow,” he shifts slightly. Oops. As an apology, you kiss the red marks softly. “Sorry…”
“It didn’t hurt that much.” “Still. I was just… lost in thought, or something.” He closes the tap, and the two of you get in the bathtub. You adjust to make room for him, backside facing his chest. In the water, his hands automatically wrap around your waist, and he kisses your bond mark again. The two of you ease back into the comfortable lull a shared night bath provides. It’s warm and quiet, the water on your skin refreshing. You sigh. All is right in the world.
“Are you okay?” Xavier pipes up.
“Mhm. Good. Very good, in fact.” You lean back on his shoulder as you soak, trying not to fall asleep as Xavier nuzzles into your neck.
After a while, he squeezes your hands to rouse you from your semi-nap. He adjusts and sits up, grabbing the shower head and shampoo to wash your hair. His hands are firm, yet they rub your scalp in a way that makes you shut your eyes in calm bliss. When he finishes, you turn around to take the showerhead from him.
“Could I… wash your hair too?”
Your partner’s eyes crinkle as he lets out an airy laugh, because of course you’d ask, never content with being the only one doted on in the relationship; it’s fair that you show him how much you love him as well. He hums as you lather the shampoo in his scalp, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure, and right here, he thinks, is home. Anywhere you are is where he’s happy, content — whether the two of you are in the regular life-or-death situations you subject yourselves to as Hunters or are out relishing time as normal people, passing by the park on the way home from a busy day, having dinner together— and now you’re bound together for the rest of your life.
“I love you,” he says softly, and leans his head back.
“Sappy.” You chuckle, and kiss the matching mark on his neck,
“Isn’t it normal for a husband to tell his wife that he loves her?” Oh. There it is, the pout and the puppy dog eyes you know so well.
You wash off the last of the suds from his silvery hair and acquiesce to your adorable husband. “Okay, okay. I love you too.”
The water’s gone cold already, and Xavier kisses your temple before he leaves the tub. You soak for a few more moments before he returns, dressed, carrying with him one of his shirts, your underwear, and pajamas. He carefully dries you off, making sure the towel is especially gentle around your bond mark, and dresses you before carrying you back to the bed. The towel you’ve used and the top bedsheet are in a pile somewhere in one of the suite’s closets, and his suit and your gown are folded somewhere on top of the luggage. He sets you gently on the plush bed, before pulling the covers over you and himself. On instinct, you snuggle into him, cozy.
“Xavier, thank you.”
He responds by pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head. “I should be thanking you.”
“If we keep this up, we’ll never stop.”
“Isn’t that why we got married?” He hums thoughtfully, this time another song, one he had played for you on the piano years ago, as he strokes your hair.
You pull yourself up, nuzzling and sniffing at his neck sleepily.
“I still smell like you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “Mhm, I just… want you near.”
Any more closer and Xavier is positive that you’ll merge yourself into him, but he remains silent, as maybe the idea doesn’t sound bad at all.
By a stroke of luck, the stars aligned to bring them together, him and his starlight. Your breathing slows as you begin to fall asleep.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You smile. “I love you too, Xavier.”
The two of you drift into the land of dreams.
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A/N: this is the most self-indulgent thing i've ever published. man. anyway stay hydrated friends. merry christmas :3
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Hi! I hope it's okay to ask this but would you happen to know any books on Stalin that don't repeat the same old stuff about him being a bloodthirsty dictator etc.? I wish to learn from more nuanced and anti-anticommunist sources since I'm learning about communism and ussr rn, and you seem to be someone who might know about these! Thanks if you're able to answer!
hii of course im happy to recommend stuff :3 mutuals feels free to add stuff as well
Another View of Stalin. Ludo Martens (1994) – one of my go to recommendations, it goes into the most commonly brought up issues such as collectivization, the great purge, and the molotov-ribbentrop pact
Stalin: History and Critique of a Black Legend. Dominico Losurdo (2008) – another go to; in addition to addressing historical facts and myths, this one also criticizes the concept of 'totalitarianism', and the resulting conflation of fascism with communism as equally bad (something that is still done to this day, see 'horseshoe theory')
those two i would say are the most prominent books specifically about him, and for good reason as they cover the most important myths about stalin
another author ive had recommended to me who has multiple books about stalin and the ussr is grover furr, but i havent read any of his works yet
also while this one isnt specifically about stalin as a person, i also wanna throw in The Soviets Expected it by Anna Louise Strong. It was published in 1942 and covers the years leading up to and including the second world war. its not really an analysis, as anna louise strong was not a historian, but a reporter who lived in the ussr at the time and she reported a lot on the living conditions and experiences of the people which provides a really interesting view into the 1930s and early 1940s in the ussr. its also a rather short and easy read
then theres of course also first hand accounts from people who knew him, like Molotov Remembers (done in a sort of interview style, the author is anti-stalin but molotovs accounts are interesting nonetheless), or Next to Stalin: Notes of a Bodyguard (also very short, not particularly well written but interesting and at times also entertaining)
also in my opinion one thing that also provides some insight into how stalin was and how he thought is just to read his own works. theres a whole collection on marxists.org
i find his interviews fairly interesting to get a bit of insight into his thinking, and theyre very short and easy to read
Interview with H.G. Wells Interview with Emil Ludwig Interview with Roy Howard
i hope some of this will be interesting to you!! have fun with your reading, theres a lot to learn and discover out there
#ask#theres one more interview i rly liked but i cannot find it right now and dont remember the interviewer#he shit talks the UN in it#maybe ill remember it later#theres also several interviews at varying points with pravda correspondents which are also interesting
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New Fic: the chain I forged (9-1-1, buck/tommy)
Happy Holidays, my friends. @liminalmemories21 and I had Tommy get Christmas Caroled just for y'all. Wherein he meets some ghosts (or possibly hallucinates as a result of whatever was in those shots Lucy handed him last night). Either way, he’s too old for this shit.
"I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it." — Jacob Marley, in Charles Dicken's, A Christmas Carol
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He comes awake abruptly, the hair on the back of his arms standing straight up. He lays there, trying to get his breathing back under control, when he hears the chair creak on the other side of the room. Shit. Fuck. Damn. There’s someone here. And not in the fun kind of way, the way he'd gotten used to with Evan — shit, Buck (he still gets that wrong in his head, when he's half asleep, still a little drunk). He'd gotten used to Buck getting up in the middle of the night, and then pausing before he got back into bed to take a sip of water, put on chapstick. Six months shouldn't have been enough to overwrite the pattern of a lifetime of sleeping alone. But— He still reaches for Evan — fuck. Buck. He still reaches for Buck when he wakes up, expects the heat of him next to him in bed, expects his pillow to smell like Buck’s shampoo and aftershave.
This time though, there's a person in his room and it's not Buck; doesn’t sound like him, smell like him. He breathes and smells dirt and cold and rot. He keeps his eyes closed, facing the ceiling, trying to remember what he might have on hand to defend himself with. Tries to figure out how this person got into his house without setting off the alarms. What he's here to steal.
"I know you're awake," whoever it is says, voice low and raspy like he doesn’t use it much. There's a rustle of fabric as the guy shifts position. "I ain't here to hurt you. You can go on and sit up, open your eyes."
He pushes himself up warily, flicks on the light and blinks in the sudden brightness. Blinks again. A burglar in a Halloween costume was not on his list of possible scenarios. And why, he wonders, if you're going to dress up to break into people's houses, wouldn't you wear a mask?
He’s wearing a cowboy hat, and a vest, but what Tommy can’t look away from (and doesn’t want to look at at all, honestly) is his skin so tight across his face it’s translucent ( like butter scraped over too much bread, a voice in his mind echoes). And the guy has— He squints, and then shakes his head. Looks back. Those look a lot like the inflamed boils Evan — Buck — had had. This seems very specific for a Halloween costume robbery. He would have expected more dead president masks.
"Uh. You're welcome to take whatever you want. I'm not going to fight you on it." It's just stuff.
The guy — the cowboy? — crosses his arms and looks annoyed. "Ain't here for your stuff."
Tommy glances at his bedside table like that's going to reveal that he'd gone to bed with a kitchen knife, or a hammer, or something useful. There's a glass of water and a book he's been saying he's going to read for going on a year now. "Okay. So, why are you here?" Keep him talking, he thinks.
The guy rolls his eyes. "Ain't here to kill you either. Didn't I just say I weren't here to hurt you? Keep up."
He's not sober enough for this. "Okay. I give. Why are you here?"
The guy relaxes, like he's been waiting for this cue. "I'm here to show you what has been, what is, and what is yet to come." And Tommy thinks, okay, Galadriel.
Tommy gives him a blank look, and the guy elaborates. "I owe a debt." He stops, like that’s all the explanation he thinks Tommy should need.
Tommy wracks his brain, but, "I think I would remember meeting you. Was it on a call?"
"Didn't say it was to you.” Pauses and says reflectively, “I wasn't always a good man, but I always paid my debts, and no one can say different." There's another pause and then, “Unless it was to a bank."
Okay, sure. This seems … nope, he’s got nothing. This seems like nothing he can possibly put a name to. This is clearly what he gets for letting Lucy talk him into going out after their last shift, and then letting her buy them shots. The wages of sin. Or something. "Are you seriously telling me you’re here as the Ghost of Christmas Past? Because you owe a life debt? To someone? Who is not me?"
The Ghost — sure, why not — nods, like he's glad Tommy is finally catching up.
He looks closer at the guy, really looks and — leather vest, chaps, boots, boils. Just fuck his life. "You're Billy Boils, aren’t you?"
Billy makes a face, like he tasted something nasty. "William James McCurdy. At your service.”
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Happy Christmas @strandnreyes !! Here is your very late gift from your secret santa!
I had a plan, it was going well, and then I wrote myself into a corner and couldn't figure out how to fix it... and went with plan B at around 6PM yesterday. But I'm pretty happy with the result and I hope you are too!
written for @tarlos-santa for the prompt: roommate’s best friend AU
---
Strickland holiday special (AO3)
“December 24th, 7pm, dinner at my place. Bring yourself and your holiday spirit.” Paul announced when he sat down at Carlos’ table in the bar they’d agreed to meet for a catch up after work.
Carlos was thrown off guard for a second but then shook his head.
“Can’t. Nochebuena with the family. My mom will kill me if I miss that.”
“And you don’t want to spend the holidays with your best friend?” Paul asked, fake hurt, and took a sip from the beer Carlos had ordered for him.
“You’ve met my mother... and she likes you now… but if you keep me from coming to mass with her and the rest of the family, she’s going to put you on her naughty list for next year.” Carlos replied, only half joking. He wasn’t especially excited to spend the holidays with his entire extended family, but it usually was nice to catch up with cousins he only ever saw at birthdays and family gatherings.
Only this year he also had to avoid his sister and her interest in his love life ever since she set him up with a friend of a friend a few months ago.
“Ah but if I promise to feed her boy, even Andrea Reyes will forgive me.” Paul told him and Carlos had to admit to himself he was probably right. “Come on man, it’s just dinner with some friends. Some people from work, and you’ll get to meet Asha for real.”
“I’ve already met her!”
“Outside McDonald’s in the middle of Saturday afternoon shoppers doesn’t count.” Paul argued. “Come on, you know you want to say yes. I’ll make my famous chilli.”
“Well in that case I’m definitely not coming, you chilli heathen.” Carlos joked and Paul good naturedly rolled his eyes.
“If I allow you to assist me in the kitchen, will you come? I’ll even let you disgrace my chilli with your nachos.”
Carlos laughed.
“Ok, fine, you can be my sous chef. Maybe I’ll even let you stir something.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Reyes.” Paul replied and clinked his beer bottle against Carlos’. “Oh and my roommate can help us out too.”
“Roommate? Since when do you have a roommate?”
Paul shrugged.
“A few weeks. The new guy at work I told you about.”
Carlos frowned, trying to remember any new guy Paul had mentioned.
“Tyler. From New York. He’s not going home for the holidays and he doesn’t really know anyone in Austin yet.” Paul clarified.
“Right. And you take in strays now?”
“He was living in some shitty backpackers hostel! I couldn’t let him stay there. The place is a health hazard. And I have a spare room anyway.” He shrugged. “It’s just until he’s found a place of his own. He’s a nice guy. Cleans up after himself. A lot of wrong opinions about pizza though. Come to think about it, you two would probably get on great. You can be wrong about food together!”
“Are you trying to set me up with your new roomie?”
“No, but you might like the guy. You both could do with some new friends.”
“I have friends!” Carlos protested and pointed his bottle at Paul. “I have you.”
“And if you and Tyler hit it off you could have two friends!”
Carlos shook his head and took a sip of his drink.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Oh no. No, I know what ‘I’ll think about it’ means in Carlos Reyes speak. It means ‘no but I don’t want to say it to your face.’”
“No, it means I’ll think about it. I might have plans… with Marco.”
“Oh the boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Carlos insisted. “We’ve only been out a few times… I barely know him. Luisa set me up with him.”
Paul nodded.
“I remember. And you like him?”
Carlos pulled a face like the thought of admitting anything of the sort to Paul was causing him physical pain.
“I don’t know… He’s alright… He keeps asking about my job.”
“That’s what people do when they’re getting to know each other don’t they?”
“Well… yeah… but it’s all he talks about. I don’t even know what he does for a living.”
“So ask him.” Paul said simply and Carlos gave a huff in reply.
They spent the rest of the night talking about Paul’s party plans, and carefully avoiding the topic of Carlos’ love life. Which he was more than grateful for.
By the time the 24th came around, Carlos had struck a deal with his mother. He’d promised her he’d go to midnight mass with her and the rest of the family, and then spend the entire Christmas at the ranch with them, so he’d be able to go to Paul’s dinner party and help him cook in the afternoon.
They’d decided on a menu together, agreeing to stay away from any controversial dishes and just focusing on putting a nice meal together for their friends.
Carlos had managed to wrangle the guest list out of Paul, and he knew most people that would attend. All but one. The mysterious Tyler.
Paul had mentioned he’d be helping them prep and Carlos was curious about the guy. Apparently he’d moved to Texas after a break up, but Paul either didn’t know the details or didn’t feel like it was his place to share and hadn’t told him anything more.
Not even a last name, which meant Carlos couldn’t even casually run him through the system.
He parked his car outside of Paul’s building and grabbed the supplies he’d picked up from the backseat before making his way to the front door. He tried to shift the bags in his arms so he could ring the doorbell without dropping anything when someone jogged up to him.
“Wait, wait, wait! Let me get that for you.” The person said and reached around him to open the door with a key.
“Thanks…” Carlos mumbled and walked into the building, up to the elevator. The person followed him and pushed the button for him.
“What floor are you headed?” the guy asked when they stepped into the elevator.
“Uh four.”
“Me too. Do you need a hand with those bags? I can carry one for you.” The person offered. “I promise I won’t run off with them.”
Carlos chuckled and shifted one of the bags so the person could take it from him. He hadn’t been able to get a good look at them yet, just a flash of a silver grey jacket and brown hair, but when he moved the bag out of the way, he came face to face with easily the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
“Thanks.” Carlos managed to say and the beautiful man smiled at him, making him even more beautiful.
“No problem. Do you live in this building too? I only moved in a couple of weeks ago, I don’t really know the neighbours yet.”
“Oh uh no… I’m just… visiting my friend.” Carlos stammered, mentally kicking himself for not being able to keep his cool around a cute guy. “He lives at number 425.”
“No way.”
“Uh…”
“You’re Carlos!” It was a statement, not a question.
“Uh…”
“I’m TK.” The beautiful man said as the elevator doors opened and they walked onto Paul’s floor. “Paul mentioned you would be coming over to help prepare for tonight.”
“I… oh… you… you work with Paul…” Carlos stammered.
“Yeah, and he lets me crash in his spare room until I’ve found my own place. You don’t happen to know of any apartments for rent that don’t cost a small fortune, do you?”
“No… sorry.”
“That’s too bad.” The beautiful man stopped outside of Paul’s door and put his key in the lock. “Hey, look who I ran into downstairs.” He called out to Paul when he walked into the apartment.
“Oh, great, you’ve already met. Saves me the introductions. Now let’s get to work, this meal won’t cook itself.” Paul said, clapping his hands to spur his friends on.
Carlos was put on chopping duties and did his best to focus on the task at hand. The three of them chatted a little while they worked, with mainly Paul and TK swapping work stories.
“Chicago FD could take NYFD.” Paul insisted and Carlos had no clue what they were talking about. “Hell they could take NYFD and AFD.”
TK laughed.
“Sure, sure.” He popped an olive into his mouth and Carlos was absolutely mesmerised by him. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the smile that never seemed to leave his face, the curve of his lips… the way they would feel against his own… the –
“Ow! Shit, shit, shit, damn it!” Carlos swore and sucked his finger into his mouth. “The knife slipped.”
TK wiped his hands on a dish towel and carefully pulled Carlos’ hand away from his mouth.
“I’m a paramedic.” He told him. “Let me see.”
“I’ll go get the first aid kit from the bathroom.” Paul announced but neither man even so much as acknowledged him.
“It’s nothing.” Carlos insisted.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” TK told him and guided him over to the sink to run his hand under the tap. “I don’t think it’s very deep.” He said after taking a closer look at the cut.” “I think a simple bandage will do.”
“Right… ok.”
“One first aid kit!” Paul said a little too loudly, dropping the box onto the kitchen table. “It cost me a small fortune so it better have everything you need.”
TK nodded and grabbed a paper towel, pressing it to the cut in Carlos’ hand.
“Keep pressure on that while I get some gauze to wrap it up.”
“You really don’t have to go through all this trouble for me… it’s just a small cut. It’ll be fine.”
“Reyes will you just let the medic treat that damn hand instead of bleeding all over my kitchen?” Paul sighed. “Your boyfriend won’t be happy if we let you bleed out on the onions.”
Carlos winced and he saw TK freeze up for a few seconds.
Damn it.
“You have a boyfriend?” TK asked, trying to sound casual, not looking at him but digging through the med kit instead.
“No!” Carlos said, a little louder than strictly necessary.
“Oh no, we’re not allowed to use the B word.” Paul said, exasperated. “They’ve just been going on dates for like three months. That’s not boyfriend behaviour at all.”
“We broke up.” Carlos blurted out, almost desperate to see TK’s reaction.
“Oh, I’m sorry man.” Paul replied, giving him a sympathetic look.
“It’s fine. He… I… we uhm… it just wasn’t working. We wanted different things.” Carlos told them. He didn’t want to go into detail, but at the same time needed TK to know he did not have a boyfriend.
“Well at least you found out now and not during a romantic dinner with an engagement ring in your pocket.” TK said, removing the paper towel from Carlos’ hand and carefully putting a gauze pad on it.
“Y-yeah.” Carlos agreed, sensing there was a story behind TK’s comment but not wanting to pry.
TK wrapped up Carlos’ hand with the care and precision of someone treating an arterial bleed, when they both knew a simple band aid would have done the trick.
“How’s that?” he asked when he put the last piece of tape on the bandage. “Not too tight?”
“It’s perfect.”
They managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without any more injuries, and Carlos had managed to compose himself and function more or less like a normal person by the time the other guests started to arrive.
He knew most of them through work and in Nancy’s case from high school math and science. He enjoyed catching up with them but still his eyes were constantly drawn to TK.
And maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like TK was looking at him too.
“Hellooo, earth to Carlos.” Nancy waved a hand in front of his face. “I asked you a question.”
“What? Sorry… I kind of zoned out for a minute there.”
“Uhuh, I noticed. I was talking about the red vs blue baseball game.”
“What about it?”
“Are you playing? Who is on the APD team? I’m trying to scope out the competition.”
“I don’t know. It’s months away.”
“She’s got a whole file with stats on everyone on the FD team on her computer.” Marjan cut in. “And she’s trying to find out who’s playing for PD so she can put together the same kind of file for them.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being prepared! I just want to win next time.” Nancy argued. “TK, do you play baseball?”
“I was in little league. I was pretty good.” TK replied. “Well according to my mom and my step dad anyway.” He laughed a little and took a sip of his drink.
“Good enough for me. We’ll have to get you to the batting cages in the new year so I can see you play.” Nancy decided.
“Who died and made you coach of the FD team?” Paul asked and the two of them got into an argument that snowballed into a debate where somehow Paul’s girlfriend Asha ended up as some kind of referee.
Carlos however could only focus on TK. He was sitting on the other side of the table, leaning back in his chair, drink in hand and an amused look on his face. He’d gotten changed before dinner and he was wearing a dark sweater with stripes across the chest and a diamond stud in his ear.
Carlos’ mouth had gone dry at the sight of him and he’d felt severely under dressed in his simple button down shirt and jeans.
“Who wants dessert?” Asha asked the group, trying to steer the conversations to a safer topic.
“I’ll get it.” Carlos said quickly, happy to be able to escape the madness for a few minutes and get his head together.
“I’ll help.” TK said, getting up from the table too and following him to the kitchen. “How’s your hand?” he asked as Carlos started pulling bowls from the kitchen cupboard.
“Oh, it’s fine.” He flexed a few times. “I barely feel it.” He smiled. “You’re a great doctor.”
“Paramedic.” TK corrected him. “It’s not the same. But thank you.”
Carlos desperately wanted to keep talking to him but didn’t know what to say. He tried to scoop some ice cream into one of the bowls but barely managed to get anything out of the container and only ended up bending the spoon.
“I guess we should have remembered to take it out of the freezer earlier.”
“Yeah… I guess so.” TK agreed. “If you run the hot water and hold the spoon under it, it’ll be easier to scoop with.” He suggested. “Or… we could just wait.”
He stepped closer to Carlos in the tiny kitchen and his eyes flicked between the other man’s eyes and lips.
There was laughter coming from the living room and someone, probably Paul, had put on some music.
“Yeah, we could… do that. I don’t think they’re really desperate for that ice cream.”
TK smiled.
“I don’t think so either…”
The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours until they suddenly moved at the same time.
TK grabbed a fistful of Carlos’ shirt, while Carlos’ hands were on TK’s neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss.
He felt TK’s tongue running along his lips and Carlos happily opened his mouth for him.
They kissed, and kissed, and kissed and neither of them wanted to stop.
Carlos’ hands were firmly in TK’s hair, and TK had managed to undo some of the buttons on Carlos’ shirt. They were both breathless by the time they had to come up for air.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day.” TK admitted. “I was gutted when Paul said you had a boyfriend.”
“Don’t have one of those.” Carlos insisted. “I’m very single.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
“How would you like to change that?”
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From: chesgray (Ao3)
To: @itsquakey (Tumblr2) (Instagram) (Artfol)
Message from Santa: "Hello! I am Gray! I write. And I am your gift-giver this holiday season! I actually like your AUs and characters quite a bit, so I was quite glad to get pointed at you for gift giving! Your list said spinning one's own interpretation of things was allowed, so I decided to write some Marstella, mixed with my own personal headcanon that Noddies are lucid dreamers for whom spending time in dreams is a normal thing they do. One thing led to another, and...
Well, this gift is the result. I hope it's an appropriate kind of angsty? I was very inspired by a couple of your pieces, especially the one where Marx in Soul form and Castella are having a heart-to-heart in the dark. You don't show much of them going through it from what I've seen, but I was really taken with the idea, and...I hope I wrote them somewhat correctly. I tried to follow your guide on Castella, the relationship charts...they're a really fun couple. I hope I did them right, at least a little.
And! I really hope you enjoy this. You've got some wonderful and inspiring characters. c: I had a lot of good choices for subject matter! I chose the silly couple. I hope you enjoy it!
Okay!!!! Happy Holidays!!!! Merry Christmas!!!! HO HO HO"
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I really wish Season 3 had spent some time with the psychological aftermath of Mizumono from Alana’s perspective. We get to see Bedelia’s perspective on her time with Hannibal, but not Alana’s, even though she’s a well-established character who’s right in the middle of the Will-Hannibal relationship, and would presumably have some good insights.
I also would have much preferred to spend more time on Alana and Margot’s relationship development, because that was so rushed that it was really hard to invest in them as a couple. Perhaps they could’ve done that rather than whatever the hell that underbaked shit with Chiyoh’s prisoner was.
I also think that everything that happens with Alana in s3B is rather… shit, honestly. Like, I can see why she would think she had a duty to try to contain Hannibal (even though she absolutely failed to do so, and was clearly being blackmailed by him for special privileges, and would lose her license to practice psychiatry if her past romantic relationship with him ever came to light).
I get that there’s a thematic element to her becoming more hardened and corrupt as a result of her exposure to Hannibal. (Will and Jack have the same arc.)
But I dunno… it just sucked. Alana gets so massively mindfucked - arguably, even more than Will. It feels to me like we’re supposed to receive her badass-bitch rebirth as a sort of vindication, but it just rings false to me.
(Not because she abruptly becomes lesbian, by the way. That seems both plausible and sensible, given both the facts of the story and decisions I have made about my own romantic life as an AFAB bisexual. The cis men I seem to attract / select haven’t been serial killers [yay?], but they do tend to fucking suck in very specific ways, so… I get why Alana would choose not to keep spinning that same roulette wheel.)
But like, I think we’re supposed to be happy for her, but all I see Alana getting in s3 is:
1. A relationship that’s hard to care about, because other than a frankly nightmarish male-gaze-y sex scene, we barely see it.
2. A child whose father fucking sociopath who tortured her partner; and which was conceived specifically to satisfy the conditions in her partner’s abusive father’s will. (EMPOWERING.)
3. A job where she gets to be cruel to Hannibal, but also where it seems like he’s torturing her, and probably blackmailing her for special privileges.
It sucks. She deserved better, and viewers who could see themselves in Alana deserved better.
~
Also, this is a lot more specific, but as someone who has had both chronic hip pain and pretty severe neurologically-caused leg weakness, and who has also lived for many years with someone who used a cane - everything about how Alana’s disability was portrayed rankled me.
There are at least two scene where Alana stands leaning heavily on her cane the whole time, even though there are chairs available. Presumably, someone - either Alana as a character, or the people directing the scene - thought that you couldn’t project authority while sitting, so she just stands instead. But we never see her pay for that, the way you would in House / the Malpractice Georg show; so I think it’s just a matter of them thinking it looked better, and damn all other considerations.
And like, not to harp on the sex scene, but like… god forbid considerations related to portraying a character a chronic disability get in the way of a good shot there.
Basically, I know it’s all a very stylized fantasy, but like… don’t give a character a disability if you’re not gonna take it seriously.
Thinking about fandom hating women for the sake of yaoi rn. In the special case of Hannibal TV
I need to talk about Alana Bloom. Right Now. Ok? Ok. Ok.
She had every right to reject Will. In fact, I think it was a good choice. She set a boundary, communicated clearly what her own needs were, as well as telling him that while she does like him, this wasn't what either of them needed. And Will respected that! He realized he was clutching for balance in his state of intense fear and instability, and he realized that after the fact, went to Hannibal to talk about it.
'HOT' Take incoming.
She ALSO had every right to enter a relationship with Hannibal during Will's incarceration. Think about things from HER perspective. Yes, it SEEMS obvious, to US, the VIEWER, that Hannibal was pulling strings, that she should have believed Will form the start, but the entire point of Hannibal's manipulation and the way it is done in the show, is that it is meant to be obvious to us while being believably effective on other characters. And if you know a damn thing about abuse, you can see that it is done WELL. Alana had had nothing but good interactions with Hannibal, had seen him do nothing but good, for others. Good at his job, good at being a friend, trying his best to help. SHE DOES NOT SEE WHAT WE SEE. That is the point. She is kept purposefully in the dark, and from her perspective, Will is the only one proven to have committed any crime. So no, I will not accept any Alana Bloom bashing.
#alana bloom#hannibal meta#hannibal analysis#hannibal s3#disability representation#bad disability rep#the male gaze#the kaleidoscopic lesbian sex scene#hannibal#hannibal nbc#nbc hannibal#margot verger#survivor wives
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Happy Lockwood & Co. Big Bang!!! :D I had the absolute pleasure of collaborating with @The_Dreamer_Half_Alive (on Ao3 :) on her fic for the @lockwoodandcobigbang2023 event; set post TEG, it’s truly so lovely and heartwarming, and I had so much fun doing a piece for it! We very much hope you enjoy :)
Link to the fic!!!! (the horror of the night melt away) under the warm glow of survival of the day
(Closeups below the cut :D) (because I ended up making it too wide to be easily seen in full lol) (plus ~artistic commentary~)
(SPOILERS FOR FIC CONTENT)
Okay, so I tried to put a bunch of little easter eggs from the fic and just in general in here, so if you’re interested:
Alright, to start off, I was generally very inspired by them getting a record player; I thought it was very sweet, and I loved the idea of them finally getting to relax and hang out in the library (the lack of chairs, I know; I couldn’t figure out how to put them in without blocking people lol) and locklyle dancing, with the record player on in the background, so that’s what I took as the basis of the scene!!
We had discussed that the characters were kind of a combo of both show and book versions, so I tried to add a smattering and hints of both when doing their designs!
The record is, of course, an Ella Fitzgerald record as mentioned in the fic (the record drawn is her Souvenir Album)
Holly is wearing her engagement ring, and wearing shades of pink and cream because that’s what she wears at her wedding (although shifted in hue to better match the color scheme of the piece lol)
Everyone (minus Flo) of course has their white strands of hair (which is *always* one of my favorite details to draw)
Lucy and George bake in the fic, but I think I had just read the Christmas mini story when I was doing my thumbnail for this, so Kipps ended up being the one bringing in baked goods; however, the baking mitts are orange and monogrammed with George's initials because I couldn't let that slip by, could I?
I wasn't quite sure what to put Flo in, because in the books she never takes off her boots or puffer jacket, but I wanted to throw in some sign that she was living at 35 Portland Row and becoming closer to all of them, (and her close relationship with George,) so I let her keep the boots, but traded the puffer jacket in for one of George's plaid shirts :)
The chess game also made it in because of the Christmas short story, lol
Lucy's blue star jacket!! When I read the fic, I was planning from the start to have her wearing the jacket, so of course it made it in :) I wasn't really sure what style it should be, though, so I ended up with kind of an odd mishmash of designs, but I think it turned out working alright!
The sapphire necklace, because, of course
I adore that Lockwood wears his pink socks throughout the entire show (well, most of the time they're the pink ones ;) so I wanted to include them (and then gave Lucy blue ones to match :)
The chipped blue mugs that Lockwood brings to Lucy for her tea after she wakes up from nightmares are on the bookshelf, and I couldn't find a way to directly include the Earl Grey tea they have, but I made the tea bag tags grey in honor of it
The green glow is the ghost lamp outside because if I can find a way to incorporate cool glows in my art, I will (and also on a more narrative-driven note, symbolizing the past danger they've been through and how some of it is definitely still present, but they have each other to heal with and finally be able to have some simple fun with, and are now curled up in the safety and comfort of 35 Portland Row :)
And finally, a big theme of the fic is them healing and building a happy life together, so I just wanted them to all be happy for once, and hence I put in my best efforts to draw them as such :)
#lockwood & co#lockwood and co#lucy carlyle#anthony lockwood#george karim#flo bones#quill kipps#holly munro#locklyle#lockwood and co fanart#lockwood and co big bang#my art#I'm so proud of how this turned out#if the colors are messed up for you I apologize#I did my best to fix them#drawing program exports just don't want me to find joy lol#but yeah#very very happy with the result of this and I had such a good time with this collaboration!!! :)#also this is definitely one of the longest times I've spent on an art piece before which is kinda cool; clocking in at about 45 hours#some of it took much. much. longer than it should have#but it all turned out okay so that's what counts :)
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my sweet little baby man is no longer with us
#he had his bloodwork done yesterday and the vet said it was fine but he doesnt have much time left#and my bestie is a vet tech who wanted to see the lab results bc she always does and she looked at them#and asked me if she can shiw them to her boss today and i was like sure and immediately knew something was up#today keekki was being himself#then i went to run some errands and when i came back he was laying in front of the front door with his tiny baby head against it#and i was like ''oh ok one of his seizures?''#and theyre like. keekki will drool and not move and they usually last for like 20 minutes (several vets have no idea whats up with those#but it was probably either a kidney or a blood pressure thing)#anyways. it did not pass in 20 minutes so i Knew#i laid on the floor next to him#then my bff sent me a message asking me if i have the time to talk about keekki and its not good news#at this point i was about to call the vet anyways#and she was like ''ok i showed these to my boss (a vet) and she got super angry that ur vet even let you leave the clinic''#bc apparently keekkis bloodwork was so bad he should have been put down then and there but my vet was like a fresh half graduate#so i dont hold it against her. anyways i got an euthanasia appointment for this evening and spent the time before it laying on the couch#crying with keekki in my arms#i had to carry him bc he couldnt really walk without stumbling and falling down#when i had to get up to get his carrier and stuff ready he was taking a nap on the couch where i left him and i took this pic#anyways worst vet visit of my life i could hardly even do anything but nod half the time bc speaking results in me sobbing#anyways. this fucking sucks#i dont know how ill be able to sleep tonight#its been years since i last slept at home without having a little guy plop into my arms#i spent a long time with him in the vet room when he was gone#it feels surreal ive given him his last ever forehead kisses#as i left the room i told him bye the exact same way ive been saying bye to him for the last very many years ive had him#its always moikka keekki before i go to work or the store or literally anything#and that was my last moikka keekki#i hope he felt how loved he was#my dad is sending me older pics of me and keekki and he looks so happy in them. hes always right next to me#idk man im going to stop rambling now
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It’s actually kind of galling to have Jayce say Viktor’s ultimate problem was his own ableism rather than a genuine concern for workplace safety standards and environmental racism. Like are we seriously never going to address the toxic waste pumped into Zaun’s water and air from Piltoven factories and mines and how that caused worse health outcomes for the population for generations including Viktor’s own? Are we really saying that in a universe that diverged when Vi and Powder stole the crystals and never developed hextech, Zaun would’ve had clean, clear air and never would’ve pushed for nationhood?
Very silly but tbh what did I expect lmao
#I still had fun but how embarrassing#the writers’ room really forgot half of the conflict of season 1#that said a failed revolution resulting in one (1) sitting Zaunite counselor feels very accurate#I’m very happy Viktor and Jayce got their atoms mixed together and spread across all of time and space good for them#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane season 2 act 3#arcane season 2 act 3 spoilers
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Speaking of "something intimate touched by dirty hands", I'll be real, I kinda do still need someone to "cleanse" image of Mic0lash for me. Ever since the grand fandom rift I've of course fallen onto the better side where fans are trying their best, I just can tell my Mic mutuals are trying their best with the guy. But something so incredibly bad is connected with the character- You guys know how negative experiences with people can ruin a character (and you're in luck if not the whole piece of media)? This character for me is a manifestation that if someone claims to really love and need me, I should keep in mind that it is a lie I should not trust.
I should know by now that when something sounds too good to be true - it IS, but he is like... an "avatar" of that realization. Someone I could just look at at be reminded without the words that yes, I should remember that I'll never be happy or valued like I want to. That my "ability" to see something good even in the darkest people or to listen to the intention of even the most distorted message is reserved for someone else. For something else. I am just not built for things like long friendships, celebrating holidays, exploring the world together, just being loved, just being able to trust, just being cared about, just sharing life with someone. My role in this world is to be a "tutorial enemy". Someone people would have a negative experience with but in exchange, understand who they are and what they really want in life, and let go of their struggles and wishes that tormented them. But I feel like I can only fulfill my purpose in this world for as long as I am ignorant about it. If I stop trusting people and seeking the type of love I need - I won't get attached, so I won't get hurt when people hurt me, so I won't be slain. Because this is what I am in - a videogame enemy that people need to defeat to level up and proceed to their own games. And if I stop respawning - how I can be what I am?
I just should not learn a thing, because people better off after they "murder" me. More cruel and reclused, but better off - more self-sufficient, more confident, more.. secure of how much good they deserve. It would just help them to be more cautious when someone actually toxic appears. Like, someone who is not even self-aware, not struggling and not remorseful. So they won't take chances, to the better.
But I just need to blind myself to the truth, because I've got nothing better to offer to this world than being that "tutorial enemy". People are better after slaying me. I drop Insight points upon being stabbed, and it happened so many times. I guess this character is just cursed with being associated with a truth so horrible that it is better off not realizing it and just be moved like a pawn.
#/vent#personal#i just really need to forget#i'll never know rest and won't be anything but a tool#like i see patterns and i see my role is not a happy one#even when it is not me doing something - i cause collateral effect of the same nature#like... because of the rift that i was the result of my very very very nice and sweet friend had to learn to stand against the bullies#was this a good and useful skill? yes. was it me who attracted the said bullies? YES.#the punchline is that the person that ruined the character for me was probably the only one able to appreciate a place like this in-#-the grand scheme of things#and not just write it down as mad ravings of depressed/traumatized person#i don't believe that the world functions as well and sound as how religious people paint it#if there is truly the purpose to all this then in the end i'll just be discarded like a tool that completed its purpose and now-#-would just otherwise collect the dust#there is no other meaning in my life than to be a step towards someone else's progress and sometimes even happiness#yet i can't just.... trade my life for a different one you know? it's all i can do#i appear in the right time and place and cause chaos past which people are better for one reason or another#most learn how important they are after ditching me. some become kinder if they realize they were cruel to me#but one thing that is certain is that i am just discarded and forgotten to 'respawn' when the need arises again.
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