#yet i am still here like “should i bring MORE books for going out of town for one (1) week”

[qqueenofhades]

But is packing three books enough for one week?

[yourheart-inmyhands]

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best. 

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

[savagewildnerness]

Let’s breakdown this scene…

Lestat, playing piano: bent over, lost in the world of the music - out of this world entirely. Louis sees a broken thing playing a plank of wood. A far cry from the proud, splendid creature he once knew.

(From Interview with the Vampire) "My eyes widened as I studied this stooped and shivering vampire whose rich blonde hair hung down in loose waves covering his face.”

Side note from me, as I love to talk about things that make The Vampire Chronicles appealing to me. Some people seem to be of the view that they wouldn’t desire immortality, only to be these sad, lonely, melancholic creatures… but I have always felt this way myself - even when I was a tiny child, long before I read The Vampire Chronicles. There has always been an innate loneliness and isolation to me deep inside. I don’t think you’d necessarily know it to meet me, mind! I am a smiley person! I like to do childlike, fun things. I try to bring happiness, not gloom to the world.

However, my instinct has always been to retreat into my own, wordless, unbound imagination, and to feel entirely alone, in truth. And still, I am. As a child, I felt more the weight of the world as if I were already 1000 years old. Now, loss of hope that comes with time is both sadder, scarier and, in its way, more freeing.

Anyway - imagine having infinite time and so being able to truly drift out of existence for decades. It’s such an appealing concept to me. I know Lestat is very sad here, but the idea of this kind of true escape… oh how I yearn for it. To let the world crumble around me. To step out of existence for some decades, with the possibility of return, not the reality as it is in mortal life that that is you falling through cracks you’ll never crawl out of ever again…

Lestat names Louis, reflexively when asked who said “hello”. He hasn’t turned to see Louis yet. To Lestat, Louis died 50 years ago. He is a ghost, surely? Lestat’s voice has a flat affect here. He isn’t thinking. He is merely reacting.

When Lestat first looks at Louis, I see fear:

- Does Louis really exist?

- What will Louis do?

- Must Lestat be drawn back into the world here? To acknowledge reality?

(From IWTV) “`I've dreamed of your coming . . . coming. . ' he said.”

Lestat asks Louis if he’d like a rat, as if he were a hallucination still, more than real-Louis. I think Lestat knows Louis is real when he speaks, but he’s still only half in reality himself.

Louis says “I’ve come to see you”, but Lestat is still half in his own constructed world with his music and Argerich… I love how Lestat hugs and caresses his plank-piano, drawing it into himself, as if drawing music in to himself. Me too, Lestat. Me too. I adore how Rolin and all added music to this scene. It isn’t there in the books. Of course it makes a through-line for rock star Lestat, but it is a deep love of Lestat’s and I am SO HAPPY with this addition!

I know a lot of people find “Siri, pause…” funny, but I must be a weird human, as I just find it oddly poignant. Like did people watch and laugh at this moment? This feels like when I go to see a play and people all laugh at something and I don’t laugh, then some other thing I laugh out loud at, but nobody else is laughing. And this is why I can’t do memes or any popular thing. SIGH. ANYWAY!!!

The way Lestat puts the keyboard up on front of himself, like a shield as Louis moves closer, his breathing growing ragged. Lestat genuinely scared… as though Louis’ mere presence might obliterate him if he gets too close. And of course, he does not know why Louis is there. Is he there to kill him? Does it matter if he is? He should kill him. He could too, right now. The emotional support piano becomes a protective plank.

But what Lestat is not expecting is Louis’ kindness, care, worry and empathy.

“Did you save my life in Paris?”

And now we get the first glimmer of the old Lestat as Lestat lifts his chin, shakes his head, tries to be nonchalant and to muster up his old pride, maintain any pride he still possesses. He immediately dismisses Louis’ niceness with a self-criticism as he truly perceives that he put Louis in danger by not protecting him from Armand. Responsibility in Nicolas’ death, and, he thinks, in Louis’.

Lestat is defensive. His unspoken mantra, “Don’t see me. Don’t see the real me, Louis. I cannot take it. Not right now.” Lestat is almost begging Louis to tell him he hates him, as he’s imagined Louis’ hate all these years… I fear halluci-Louis may not have been the kind, loving vision for Lestat that DreamStat was for Louis…?

A side note again: Lestat’s “All hail me” gave me a full-on spontaneous existential crisis. Folks, does Lestat say “All hail me” in the books? I hope not! Because for as long as I remember, in appropriate circumstances, I say “All hail me” and obviously it’s a turn of phrase, but I had a sudden heart stopping moment where, with a chill, I thought *Did I get that from Lestat?!* Am I entirely even my self at all?! Am I merely a manifestation of all the art I have ever consumed? Am… I… Armand!?!?!??!! Oh MY! I don’t think Lestat says this in the books though, right? Right!?!?

Well, Lestat puts his piano-plank down, terrified Louis might show him love. Craving it. Fearing it.

“Been enduring here?” Lestat is truly proud now. He will not admit his pain. As if not speaking it could make it invisible when it’s plain all about - from within him and without. It is *very* Lestat when questioned on the pain in his soul or shown that it has been seen to be like “I am FINE” & to think that’s how he comes across to others, when really of COURSE they see how broken he is. And then he bemoans that nobody will let him be broken, when he himself struggles to be broken other than when alone or on the page.

“I didn’t know it was a gift.” - Lestat is still wary. Still expecting hate from Louis here… unable yet to fully accept and understand…

Then Louis begins to say the only things Lestat has ever wanted to hear and know from Louis - thanking Lestat for the gift of vampiric immortality, showing he understands the beauty of it and intends to value that and use it… & Lestat is done for; broken open from here. He still, for a moment tries to fight back with “Shall we list all the ways we have wronged each other…” etc. But really, Lestat can now no longer maintain ay facade. Louis has opened him up.

And now we are open to Lestat’s thoughts for the last half-century. Armand erases Louis’ suicide attempt from his mind, but it is the first thing Lestat asks about. In his mind he has replayed for 5 decades how Louis is dead and it is his fault.

Sam and Jacob are so brilliant and beautiful as they open to each other in this scene. Claudia. Grief. Pain. Then, love. Broken-Lestat is particularly too much - holding on to responsibility over Claudia’s fate and how she looked at him at the end and he did nothing… and Louis, trying to take away and share the burden. Louis - so empathetic… and as they move through grief to love, words fall away (or become too personal to matter) and the storm outside echoes the storm of their hearts and their love.

(From IWTV) ““…And as I looked down at him, as I saw his yellow hair pressed against my coat, I had a vision of him from long ago, that tall, stately gentleman in the swirling black cape, with his head thrown back, his rich, flawless voice singing the lilting air of the opera from which we'd only just come, his walking stick tapping the cobblestones in time with the music, his large, sparkling eye catching the young woman who stood by, enrapt, so that a smile spread over his face as the song died on his lips; and for one moment, that one moment when his eye met hers, all evil seemed obliterated in that flush of pleasure, that passion for merely being alive.

" Was this the price of that involvement? A sensibility shocked by change, shrivelling from fear? I thought quietly of all the things I might say to him, how I might remind him that he was immortal, that nothing condemned him to this retreat save himself, and that he was surrounded with the unmistakable signs of inevitable death. But I did not say these things, and I knew that I would not.

" It seemed the silence of the room rushed back around us, like a dark sea…””

Bonus: misprint in my TVL copy!

(From TVL) “Louis had come finally to this very place and seen me through the windows. I tried to imagine it. Louis alive. Louis here, so close, and I had not even know it. I think I laughed a little. I couldn’t keep it clear in my mind that Louis wasn’t burnt up. But it was really wonderful that Louis still lived. It was wonderful that there existed still that handsome face, that poignant expression, that tender and faintly imploring voice. My beautiful Louis surviving, instead of dead and gone with Claudia and Nick.

But then maybe he was dead. Why should I believe Armand?”

[gin-juice-tonic]

Hello. It's me again. I'm sure you've realized by now what this type of introduction to a post is leading into. I'm going to bring up another page in the bill book. This entry is going to be less about "proving" anything, but rather it's just something I'd like to discuss. (Also just a warning, this one ends up a bit long due to how many photos are included!)

As I have said before. I had many many thoughts, and I am liable to talk about them until they're all talked out. I want to focus on a single page again (Or I guess, a single double page).

Sorry for the kinda small image here, but don't worry. I'll point out the part I want to talk about.

What I find strange about these pages in particular, aside from the fact that it starts to become written like some sort of noir novel and that Bill has chosen to speak like a femme-fatale, is the new idea it suggests to us:

Bill at some point told Ford he was from another dimension.

I say "at some point" because Ford doesn't react to the idea like this is new information here. Why do I find that strange? Well, for one thing, there's never anything that would indicate Ford knew this pre-portal.

To start, we know that Bill introduces himself to Ford as "a Muse"

Notice the way Ford speaks about him. "From a higher plane, divine, otherworldly". He makes some guesses on the second page (spirit, alien, dream, etc), but nothing to indicate they've discussed the whole other-dimension thing yet. Of course, this is still early, so let's skip further ahead.

Here's where we start talking about other dimensions. Or should I say "dimension"?

Bill has told his "weirdness dimension" lie to Ford, but there's no implication that he himself is from this dimension. And not to mention, this dimension hasn't been destroyed, so naturally it cannot be the one he talks about in the Bill Book pages.

(Later Edit: There used to be another line of reasoning here, I have since removed it.)

Regardless, Bill is still being referred to as a divine thing, unknowable and even possibly not real. Safe to say he isn't inter-dimensional yet, so let's continue.

(this section has been edited from its original wording)

Here Fiddleford and his idiosyncrasies enter the fray, and Ford debates telling him. Fiddleford is aware they're building a portal to another dimension, so it would not be that far of a stretch in that vein for Ford to also explain that Bill himself is from one. But Ford's attitude toward the situation veers towards the less scientific. Ford still considers Bill to be something divine, and is worried Fiddleford would think black magic is happening.

Worrying that Fiddleford would think he's gone mad is one thing, but the emphasis on black magic and fiddlefords superstitions strike me as odd.

I understand there are likely several varying reasons why Ford wouldn't want to tell Fiddleford about Bill, even if Ford DID know he was from a different dimension, however:

If Ford had something to suggest Bill's essence was more scientific in nature, I.E. him being from another dimension himself, I think he would've put that into consideration in that when deciding whether to reveal him to Fiddleford, or at the very least would've given up the emphasis on his superstitious nature.

I'm not trying to say he would've actually fully revealed it to Fiddleford if this were the case, but I think the thought process around the concept of doing so would be different.

.

We're closing in on the portal test now. Ford refers to him here as a "non corporeal entity". He is non corporeal so long as he exists only in the astral plane... but is that what Ford is talking about? Or does he believe Bill has only ever existed in the mindscape? Does he know yet? I don't think this page actually includes much of an answer, I just figured it should be included.

The next-next page does have Ford cheekily refer to him as "imaginary" though...

Fairly soon after this, the portal incident and the betrayal happens. Could it be possible that somewhere within these pages, Bill spilt his home dimension backstory? I'm still inclined to think not.

These questions have no definitive answer, but I am led to wonder:

1) Bill's whole dynamic with Ford is that of a "Muse" inspiring intelligent minds throughout history, wouldn't the reveal of him being from another dimension call this dynamic into question?

2) If Bill is something from another dimension, wouldn't asking Ford to build a portal to a dimension totally-not-at-all-related-to-him become suspicious? Would Ford not question his motives at that point?

(Later Edit: There used to be another line of reasoning here, I have since removed it. Yeah, again.)

(A second later edit: As has been pointed out in the reblogs, some of what I have discussed thus far fails to take into account the mental state Ford could be in due to Bill's abuse/manipulations. Expecting perfect logic and reasoning from him like the two questions above are asking for may not be fair. I am leaving them in this post so the aforementioned reblogs continue to make sense, but again, how his prolonged abuse factors into his logic and decision-making should be taken into consideration.)

.

.

I have just a few more post-portal pages to show to continue my long winded discussion with as well.

The pages about Exwhylia read a bit weirdly, admittedly. The first page Ford states he thought this was Bill's birthplace, the second page he states he believes Bill came from somewhere similar but was mysteriously destroyed.

If Ford thought this 2-D dimension had been reduced to an atom before he got there, how could he have planned to go? And I should hardly call being destroyed by a monster a "mysterious" method of destroying. Whatever the explanation for the way these are written is, I don't think they read like Bill has ever spoken to Ford about his home dimension.

Additionally, he mentions his "quest to defeat Bill" is what led him here, which I feel implies he learned of this place after being portaled.

I wish I had a good closer for this mini-essay, but the questions I asked above the Exwhylia section were originally supposed to be it. I don't believe Bill had told Ford about his dimension. That's the end of the sentence.

MAJOR ADDENDUM:

I can't believe I missed this (I can believe it) but.. In the book of Bill, Ford refers to Bill as "extradimensional" after their very first meeting!

Pinpointing the answer to my timeline question supposedly to this exact moment. In my opinion, if you combine this with everything I've mentioned above, no part of this idea from the book of bill makes any sense at all. You might remember at the beginning of this post, Ford guesses at what type of creature Bill is... two years after this last page here was supposed to have been written.

Additionally, if he had known there was an "extradimensional" creature in gravity falls at this point in time, I should hardly think it would've taken him two whole years after that to think of the idea that the Falls' weirdness may come from out of our dimension! (Not to mention in J3 he tells us the idea was told to him directly from Bill. Two years elapsed between these conversations? Knowing Ford, not likely. Again, even if Bill somehow did avoid telling him that whole time, I think Ford very well could've figured it out on his own by then.)

[mekochansblog]

Behind close doors +18

Five Hargreeves x reader

Warning: this is my first smut so please bare with me I had to get some ideas from other books.

You’ve been a wife of Five Hargreeves for almost six years. You both have been working the commission for a while, Five being the owner and you who has been the co-owner. He was used to your tantics and you were used to his bluntness. As of right now you were sitting at your own desk and he was sitting on his desk, doing his work with a scowl on his face and a serious face. You on the other hand were spinning on your chair and throwing paper balls towards your husband, making him more annoyed than usual.

“Will you stop that?!” He said annoyed at you. You stopped spinning already feeling dizzy and looked at him with a playful grin. You tilted your head and put your hand on your desk and smiled ‘sickenly sweet’ at your husband.

“What, I'm not doing anything wrong, my love?” you replied to him, you made another paper ball and threw it up and down playing with it instead of throwing at him. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing he wouldn't dare blow up on you. He breathed and looked at the mess of paper balls littering his desk and the office. 

“Honey, I love you but stop throwing those paper balls. I'm trying to work. Do you really have to act like this?” he asked gently. He knew you easily got sentimental, that was one of the things he actually loved about you but hated at the same time. You give him a blank face and stare at him.

“Five…. You should know by now that that's how I am. If you have an issue with it, stick it up your ass.” Well turns out you weren't going to get sentimental today but have an attitude with him. Something must have happened in the morning or between work for you to get an attitude. He’s taken aback by your words not used to you being rude to him. He sighs and hopes this attitude of yours will go away by the time it's lunch.

“My love, I don't have an issue but I'm trying to finish these reports, being the owner of the commission isnt easy and my wife isn't helping that's all.” he said softly and with care that it makes you stop with the petty attitude and look at him with love. You smile at him and sigh softly. You get up from your desk and walk towards his desk and sit on it, you cross your legs making your skirt lift a bit.

“I'm sorry my love, but I did help you….i just finish fast…do you…do you want me to help you with some of the paperwork, or want me to bring lunch?” You ask gently, looking at him with a  soft look. Five looks at you and looks down at your skirt rising up that gets his attention. 

“That… that sounds good honey.. how… how about food ... .pizza… sounds good ... .yeah…mhmm.” He says distractedly, his eyes looking at your plump thighs. His words trail off at what you were saying. You look at him confused and stare at him when you see he's not even paying attention at you but your thighs. You sigh and snap your fingers at him.

“Hey! Hey! My eyes are up here mister.” You playfully scold him. He immediately snaps out of the trance and looks away, his face flushed from embarrassment from being caught. You giggle and lean down giving him a view of your chest which makes him look and gulp, getting distracted again. He felt like he was sweating. You gave him a peck and leaned back straight. His eyes darted towards yours and he weakly smiled at you feeling nervous out of nowhere. Why? He didn't know, he's been married to you for more than half a decade yet he still got nervous and flustered. Maybe you've been the distraction all along. You hopped down from his desk making your skirt rise a bit more, giving him a small view of your lace see through panties. He gulped and prayed to god you wouldn't notice his semi-hard on. You pull your skirt down, hiding that pretty cunt from his view. You smiled innocently at him and walked towards the door to head towards the break room for some food.

“H..hey w…wait… i uhh… w…where are…where are you going?” his voice went an octave higher than usual and he licked his lips and cleared his throat. Asking you again, but a bit better. You looked at him confused and pointed towards the door. 

“Honey, you said you were hungry… So I'm going to get us food, you also mentioned pizza, so I'm going to check the break room for some. If not , I'll go to the pizza place that's right around the corner.” you said with a smile on your face.

 He nodded his head slowly and looked away. He grabbed his wallet and put his hand out with some cash in it. You looked at his hand and walked towards him and grabbed the cash from him. you leaned down again and gave him a peck on the cheek. You thanked him and walked out the door towards the break room. Once you close the door, he lets out a groan. He looked down at his lap and flushed. Well fuck, what was a semi hard on turned into an actual hard on when you leaned again, giving him a view of your breasts. They were big enough that even one of his hands couldn't fit a whole one. They were spongy on his hand and they would bounce when you rode him. He groaned and stared down. His pants were feeling tight now at the images he was having in his head. 

He softly pants and stares at the door, his desk was facing the door so nobody was going to see him jack off, either way they had to knock first before coming inside his office. He slowly pulls his pants down and then his boxers, he feels embarrassed doing this in broad daylight and his office but it was all your fault he told himself. He looked at his shaft and slowly grabbed it. He hissed, when was the last time you both have done it he thought. That's right, he thought it had been two weeks. You both have been busy running the company that everytime, either of you wants to do it the other isn’t in the mood. He slowly started pumping himself; he sighs in bliss. Well fuck all he needed was you on your knees looking at him with your ‘innocent’ eyes and he will die a happy man. He didn't notice you came in, opening the door slowly. Five groans, tilting his head back at the scenarios he was making up in his head about you,speeding up his hand. 

You put the food down on your desk and slowly walked towards him, you saw his face and smirked loving the way you could easily make him into putty even when you weren't around him. You quietly took off your heels and made your way towards him. You held his hand and he jumped and opened his eyes and froze. He looked at you with a panicked face not knowing what you would say. You sat on his lap and started giving him open kisses on his neck making him let out breathy moans. You started to actually leave hickeys on his neck, accidentally leaving one on his white crisp shirt. You give him a loving smile and slowly get on your knees. His breathing hitches and he starts breathing heavily looking at you with wide eyes. Once on your knees you look at him with a cute innocent face and smirk, and you kiss his tip. 

“Barely touched you.” He looks at you about to open his mouth when you lean over and lick him. His breathing stutters and he groans softly. He doesn’t know where to put his hands. You look at him and lick him from the balls all the way to his pink mushroom head. He groans a bit louder and tilts his head back on the chair.

“Dar… darling….I… do… don’t stop p..please..” He softly moans out, finally grabbing your head with one of his hands and using the other to grip his chair. His jaw clenched, his tip oozing only for you to press a thumb across his slit licking the bitter taste. Five tries to guide your head to his cock, you stop him and lather his cock with your spit. His breath kept stuttering, his eyes glazing over looking at you. 

“My… my wife is… is so slutty… huh?” He stammers. His head leans back again and he moans. You come back to his tip, grabbing his base to take him into your mouth. You keep sucking, slowly savoring him in your mouth. Your mouth travels further down his cock, slowly swirling your tongue around it. 

You start to slowly take him, he pushes your head making you gag, the noise makes his cock throb inside your mouth. Fuck how long has it been since you guys had sex? Maybe in two weeks. Work has just been piling up and with him being the owner and you being co-owner made you both busy. Not today he thought. With you sucking him off like a lollipop he was in bliss. You moaned on his cock and sucked him, saliva dripping from our mouth to his balls. You knew he was close with the stutter of his breath and his pants. His hips kept lifting, making you gag more than the beginning. He started whimpering a bit loudly, telling you he was close. You feel the first rope of cum in your mouth and you swallow it. You pumped him, making him whine for the overstimulation. You slow your movement and pop him out of your mouth breathing heavily. You finally stare at his face and you smirk deviously, loving the way you left him.

You knew you were wet. The way you could make your husband submit to you made you wet and horny. You slowly stood up wobbling a bit from being on your knees for a while just to give him pleasure. He looked at you with a fucked up face and smile wobbly at you. You giggled and kissed his cheek. You were about to walk towards your desk when he grabbed you and turned you around so you were facing his desk. Your top half of your body laying on his desk and the bottom half facing him. You felt his hands go towards your shirt and rip it from you, making you gasp in shock. You felt him lift your skirt, he held your ass, spreading it making you whine. He chuckles and pulls your panties down. He doesn't give you time to ask him what he was doing because, next thing you know he fills you up in one swift motion. You moan not expecting the stretch. It's been a while since you had your daily dose of cock inside you. He groans and grips your hips. He feels so much deeper, so much bigger inside of you in this position, that's why it was his top favorite one. He starts slow at first, not used to your tight cunt.

“F…Fuck darling.. You’re so… fhuck tight!” he groans, leaning on your back and he pants on your ear making you whimper. He grins loving the way he can make you stupid with just his cock inside of you. He knows you can make him submissive, but he has you wrapped around his cockand make you into the little slut that you are only to him.

He starts to finally move, slow at first but then grabs a speed. You try to stand on your tippy toes but the way he’s grabbing your hips and pushing you towards him makes your legs wobble. He grabs your chin and kisses your lips, biting the bottom one. He slaps your ass, making you moan. His eyes widen when you start pushing your hips back into him. His cocked throbbed inside you and he lifted your torso from the desk and held you by the neck. His breath is hot on your skin as he pants. He let out a breathy laugh.

“Does my little slut want me to go faster? Want me to make you scream so anyone passing by hears your moans?” he whispers. 

Your brain turned to mush, his words made your pussy throb. “Please Five! Oh God yes!” You cry out, too drunk on his cock pounding inside of you. You dig your nails on the hand that's holding your waist, clinging to him. 

Your eyes shut, and you scream his name as you come. Five lets out the most animalistic groan as he comes, his hips thrusting into you until he cant anymore. He breathes in your smell, smelling like honey and vanilla. He sighs in bliss still inside you. He slowly pulls his cock out of you, and your cunt twitches. You whimper at the feel of it and he kisses all over your body. He sits back on his chair and he slowly pulls you to his lap. He caresses your hair and starts rubbing soft circles on your thighs. You sigh in bliss just being in his arms.

“I should clean up my love.” You let him know, he knew you meant by at least making both of you guys look decent for anyone that might come in. He smiles at you and lets you get up, not without slapping your ass playfully making you turn your head and give him a look. 

He laughed and pulled his boxers and pants up. He looked at his shirt and saw the lipstick stains you left when you kissed his neck. His neck was probably filled with lipstick stains and hickeys. He started buttoning his shirt when he saw the scratches on his arm. He silently laughed and smirked knowing he will have a field trip with you when people ask. You on the other hand went towards your desk and grabbed the extra clothes you kept for emergencies. Guess today was an emergency since your husband decided to rip your shirt. You grabbed the extra tight crisp white blouse and buttoned it up but left the three open, just to tease your husband. You cleared your throat and mentioned the food once Five looked at you. He looked at the pizza and then at you with a confused face.

You sighed annoyed at him and crossed your arms. “Five i brought Pizza because you asked for it..” you looked at him and tilted your head hoping he would remember. He blinked his eyes and kept staring at you all confused.

“Ooh i think i just said whatever came to my mind, i was looking at your chest.”

You let out a long sigh and rolled your eyes at your husband. “Okay well are you hungry now? The pizza is probably cold now.” You asked him softly even when you were slightly annoyed at him.

“Actually I think I want to try my dessert first. Lay down on my desk so I can enjoy my dessert.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hey Jude

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based off of 12x11, but you lose your memory instead of Dean.

You cried out in pain and surprise as the witch blew a strange dark powder into your face and you staggered back into the wall.

“Hey!” Dean turned suddenly when he heard your distress, and he lifted his gun and fired off three rounds of witch-killing bullets into the woman that hurt his little sister.

“You ok?” Sam asked, helping you straighten up and glancing down at the witch to make sure she was dead.

“Fine.” You shook yourself and did a once over—no extra limbs, no pain, nothing. “I’m fine. The witch is dead, so whatever she threw at me won’t work.”

“We should get going,” Dean said. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“I’m sure.”

…

“This place isn’t half bad,” you spoke up as the Impala pulled into a motel. Your brows drew together in confusion as Dean pulled up in front of a room. “Don’t we need to check in?”

“We’ve…been here for two days,” Sam said, turning in his seat and frowning at you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing,” you mumbled shyly, suddenly both confused and embarrassed. Why didn’t you remember? “Never mind.”

“I’m gonna give Rowena a call,” Sam said as the three of you entered your motel room. “She said there was a whole coven here, but we’ve only taken out two witches—maybe she can help us track down the rest.”

“Who?” You asked, trying to wrap your brain around the name, familiar yet somehow foreign—was it another hunter?

“Rowena…” Dean said, seemingly baffled by your question. “Red head witch? Irish, or Scottish, or whatever?” Dean goggled at you, but you just stared back blankly. “Seriously, are you joking?”

“No…” you were confused. Clearly your brothers couldn’t know this “Rowena” too well, otherwise you would remember her. So why did Dean care so much if you did? “Am I supposed to know her?”

“We saw her just last week,” Sam said, watching you carefully. “You know, Crowley’s mother?”

“Crowley?” This name felt more familiar to you, but still you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Crowley…” you mumbled again, as if repeating it would somehow bring a face to mind.

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Dean scoffed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

“You know Crowley,” Sam said. “You know Rowena, too. Why can’t—“ Sam’s eyes widened suddenly in horror. “That…that stuff the witch threw at you.”

“You mean Rowena?” You remembered that Sam—or was it Dean?—has just said that Rowena was a witch.

“What? No,” Dean said to you before turning to Sam. “What about it? You think maybe it messed with her memory? Made her forget about witches, or something?”

“That doesn’t explain why she forgot Crowley,” Sam countered. “Maybe it’s made her forget the supernatural world.”

“Supernatural,” you spoke up, desperate to prove that you hadn’t forgotten. “Like ghosts. We hunt ghosts. I haven’t forgotten, see?”

Dean’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“Then I don’t understand…”

“Let’s call Rowena,” Sam suggested. “She’ll know what this is.”

…

“Oh dear,” Rowena’s sigh of disappointment got the attention of the Winchester brothers; however, you were distracted playing with Dean’s gun on his bed.

“What is it?” Dean demanded.

“It’s definitely a memory spell.” Rowena sighed again. “This spell…it will make her memory fade piece by piece, until she can’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Anything. Not you, not even herself. Soon enough she’ll forget how to eat, how to…how to breathe. And then…” Rowena let her voice trail off, her point having been made.

“Ok, then fix it,” Dean insisted.

“It’s not that simple. I need the grimoire—the spell book used to make that powder—if I’m going to be able to undo it.”

“And how are we supposed to find that?” Dean growled.

“It’ll be with the rest of the coven,” Rowena said confidently. “You said you only got two witches, right? A coven must be at least three. Any remaining will have the grimoire.”

“Is this thing loaded?” Dean whirled around to see you pointing his gun straight up at your own eye.

“Hey, hey!” He yelled, rushing to you and yanking the gun from your hands. “That is not a toy!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze going from Dean to Rowena. “You’re our witch friend, right?”

“I…suppose,” Rowena said slowly.

“Cool!” You exclaimed, jumping off Dean’s bed and going straight for Rowena’s bag. “Is this your witch bag? Do you have cool stuff in here?”

“Hey now!” Rowena grabbed your arms and pulled them out of her bag. “Stay out of that, you’ll set off a curse or something!” Rowena took one look at your pouting face and sighed, reaching into her bag. “Here,” she said, coming out with a voodoo doll. “Play with this.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt someone?” Dean spoke up.

“She’s fine,” Rowena insisted, waving her hand dismissively as you returned to Dean’s bed, examining the doll with a grin. “Now, we need to find that coven.”

…

“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Sam hissed as Dean packed his bag for the hunt.

“Well we’re not going to take her with us,” Dean countered.

“Are you going somewhere?” You spoke up suddenly.

“We’ve gotta take out that witch,” Dean said.

“What witch?” You asked. The brothers ignored you.

“Look, she’ll be fine for just a few hours,” Dean told Sam. “And when we’re back, Rowena can break the curse.”

“Whose curse?” You asked. “Are you cursed?”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sam sighed.

He and Dean headed for the door, but both stopped when you grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “Please don’t. I’m—I’m forgetting everything…and I don’t want to forget you. If you go, I’ll forget.”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen,” Dean spoke up. “We’re gonna break this curse, and you’ll be ok.”

You still looked scared and unconvinced, so Dean continued.

“I want you to do something for me. Just keep repeating the most important things to yourself—it’ll help.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, then froze as you wondered where to start.

“Start small,” Dean instructed.

“My…my name is Y/N.” You glanced at Dean, then Sam. “Sam and Dean are my brothers. Rowena…is our witch friend. Castiel is our angel friend. My dad is John Winchester.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam insisted. “If you keep doing that, you won’t forget us.”

You didn’t think that that was how the curse worked, but you couldn’t honestly remember. You would have to take De—no, Sam’s—word for it.

“Are you sure?” Your voice faded to a whisper as Sam and Dean walked out the door before you had even started the question. You took a deep breathe, steeling yourself. “Ok. My name…my name is Y/N Winchester…”

…

“Well that was a bust,” Dean groaned as he pulled the Impala back into the motel. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head to the next possible location?”

“I want to check on her,” Sam insisted. “I don’t want her to be scared.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just parked the Impala and led the way into the room. The boys hadn’t taken two steps into the room before Sam caught sight of you ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Sweetheart, are you ok?”

Silence greeted his question.

“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Please answer me.”

“Go away!” Your voice was tight and squeaky, even through the door.

“Kiddo it’s us,” Sam assured you.

“How-how do you know my name?” There was more confusion in your voice than fear now.

“Y/N—“ Dean’s voice stuck, and he cleared his throat. “It’s us, it’s your brothers. You know us, remember?”

The lock clicked on the bathroom door, and Dean could see half of your face as you peered up at him. After a moment, you swung the door open all the way, but you remained in the doorway hesitantly.

“I know you,” you mumbled. Dean held his breath as you stared first at him, then Sam. “My…brothers…” you were rubbing your arm now, anxiously glancing at your brothers as you wracked your brain for more information. “You’re…you’re S-S…D…” you were breathing hard now, terrified that you couldn’t remember their names. “I-I know it, I know who you are, I know it!”

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, no, I know it,” you insisted. “I know this, I-I have to know this.”

“It’s…it’s ok if you don’t remember,” Dean spoke up. “We’re here, we can help you.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Your outburst startled the boys, but they didn’t show it. “It’s not ok, I have to know this! You-you’re my big brothers, and I have to remember you!”

“Commere.” Sam couldn’t stand to see you start to cry, so he pulled you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok…we’re going to fix this, we are.”

“I-I have to…I remember, I have to…” you were babbling almost incoherently. Sam looked at Dean over your shoulder, and they shared a moment of painful panic before Dean spoke.

“I’m gonna get us some food.” And he rushed out the door.

Sam stayed with you for several minutes before you slowly disentangled yourself from him.

“I can’t remember,” you whimpered.

“I…I know.” Sam sighed. He was about to speak again when he spotted the Impala out of the corner of his eye through the window—Dean was sitting inside, not moving; he hadn’t left. “Um…I’m gonna go talk to him.” Sam started for the door, but you stopped him.

“Let me,” you said. “I…I want to.”

So Sam stood back as you went to comfort your brother whose name you couldn’t remember.

…

He just needed a minute. He would go out, get food, come back, and be ready to help you again but he just needed a minute.

He turned on the radio, cursing himself for it a moment later when Hey Jude started playing. He reached up to turn it off—it was just too painful to hear this, your favorite song—but he stopped when your favorite part started playing.

“And any time you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder.”

The words brought back a thousand memories, a thousand little moments between you and Dean that he knew he would remember forever. A few precious moments stood out above the rest—

…

“Hey little sister.” The first words Dean ever said to you. You were just a toddler, crying in the doorway of a filthy motel room while you watched your mother—some random hookup of John’s who’d gotten sick of taking care of a kid—drive away. She’d stayed long enough to hear that Dean was John’s son, then she’d snapped, “This is for him,” and shoved her daughter forward before rushing to her car.

You were utterly inconsolable, sobbing until your face was bright red and you could barely breathe. If Dean didn’t calm you down quickly, you might pass out, crying yourself into exhaustion.

“Hey Jude…” Dean had barely even made the decision to start singing before Hey Jude came to his head—the song his mother used to calm him down. “Don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better…”

…

Dean would’ve done anything—anything—to undo the last ten minutes. He wanted to go back and change it all, to tell you a different story, to say “monsters aren’t real, they’re just stories, and of course dad doesn’t fight monsters, of course he’s not in danger, of course he’ll come home.”

But he couldn’t.

You were scared now. Maybe you always would be, in some capacity. You would always carry that little voice inside that said—“there are monsters out there, and they want you dead.”

Dean hadn’t wanted to tell you. Why did you have to be so curious? Why did you have so many questions, questions that you demanded answers for?

You were crying now; sitting by the motel window, waiting for dad to show up, and you were crying. Dean had done this—he’d made you so scared that you cried by the window, hoping that dad was coming home.

You flinched when the wind banged a tree against the window, and Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat beside you, and you latched onto his arm instantly, leaning on him for support. Dean did the only thing he could think of—

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid…”

…

Dean’s memories retreated to the back of his mind when the Impala door opened and you climbed in. He stopped his gentle singing—he hadn’t even realized he was doing it—when you turned to look at him. He looked from your eyes to the radio, almost as if he were begging you to remember—not just the song, but everything it meant to both of you. You just blinked up at him with that blank expression that had been haunting Dean since you started to forget.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” you whispered. Dean smiled painfully.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But I know that I care about you.”

Dean’s breath hitched.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, little sister. I’m gonna fix you, I promise.”

“But what if you can’t? I still don’t want you to be sad.”

Dean was struggling to hold onto his resolve—to his strength.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

The both of you lapsed into silence, the closing notes of Hey Jude still playing.

“I like this song,” you said quietly. “It sounds nice.”

Dean clenched his jaw tightly to keep his lips from quivering.

“Kid, please go back to Sammy.”

“Sammy,” you mumbled to yourself, as if trying to put a face to the name. Dean’s fists clenched as he blinked rapidly.

“That room-“ he pointed- “go knock. Sam is in there, he’ll take care of you while I get us some food.”

You stared at Dean for a long moment; he knew that you were worried about him, but the blank expression on your face hurt more than he could take.

“Sweetheart, go. I need you to…please. Please go.”

You left without another word.

…

“I found it.” Rowena’s outburst came just after you swallowed the last of your fries—Sam and Dean had barely picked at their food, but you had forgotten so much that you were no longer sure what they were worried about, so you felt fine.

“Found what?” Dean demanded.

“The coven. I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place for a witch to hide. You take the last remaining in the coven out and get me their grimoire, and that curse will be gone before we know it.”

“What about her?” Sam’s eyes darted to you before looking back at Dean. “I don’t think she should be alone, she’s forgetting more and more.”

You glanced behind you to make sure he had looked at you, and not someone else. Dean noticed this and sighed.

“We don’t have much choice.” Dean stepped over to the tv and switched it on. “Commere Y/N.” He had to stare at you for several seconds before you realized that that was your name.

You jumped up off the chair and went to sit on Dean’s bed so you could get a good view of the tv.

“Ok, sit here and watch this,” Dean instructed, gesturing to the cartoon playing. “Don’t move, don’t leave, ok?”

“Why can’t I go?” You wondered.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” Dean asked. You pondered this.

“Witches…covens…your lumberjack outfits…a Halloween party?” You guessed.

Dean glanced down at his red flannel, seemingly offended, before he waved it off in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re definitely staying here.”

“Well can I play with this then?” All three turned to see you with a—quite possibly cursed—dagger that you had somehow gotten from Rowena’s bag, along with a—definitely cursed—witches’ spell book.

“Hey now!” Rowena cried out, snatching both items from you. “How many times do I have to tell you, my things are not toys!”

You ignored this loud outburst and instead stared at Rowena as if you had never seen her.

“I like your dress,” you said suddenly. “It’s so…it’s like a queen’s dress.”

“Why…thank you,” she said with a sudden smile. “I think I like you better this way.”

“Rowena.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes yes alright,” she huffed. “Let’s go.”

…

The witches were surprisingly easy to kill, but when Rowena went to use their grimoire, Sam stopped her.

“How long will this spell take?” He asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

“I want to do it back at the hotel,” Sam insisted.

“It’s faster to—“ Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

“She’s gotta be terrified right now, with how much she’s forgetting so quickly. I want to be there for her, I want her to know that we’re fixing this.”

“It’s not far,” Rowena said, taking Sam’s side. “Let’s go.”

…

You were much harder to coax out of the bathroom this time, and even when you were sitting on Dean’s bed with a brother on either side of you while Rowena worked on the spell, you looked unconvinced.

Sam was trying to calm your nerves by showing you pictures and telling you names and facts.

“And this, this is Bobby—“ he’d shown you Bobby’s picture at least three times, but your short term memory kept getting worse, so you didn’t notice.

“Um…” Sam stopped talking when you started, but you didn’t get far before your face screwed up, and Sam knew you were trying to remember his name.

“Sam,” he supplied, hating to see you in distress.

“Sam,” you said with a breath of relief. “I just…I for-I forgot, what’s…what’s my name?”

Sam barely heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath over his own shattering heart.

“It’s…you’re—“

“Y/N.”

Sam was confused when you answered your own question, until he looked from you to Rowena, who wore a triumphant smile.

“Did you—does she—“

“Sam.” The wide grin on your face was unmistakable, as was the spark in your eye. “Dean.”

“Oh kid,” Dean breathed, wrapping you in his arms a split second before Sam could. Sam didn’t care though—he grabbed both his siblings in a group hug that had Rowena rolling her eyes, although the smile never left her face.

“You’re back.” Sam grinned.

“Did you ever doubt it?” You questioned with a laugh.

“I admit, a few moments gave me pause,” Sam chuckled.

“Didn’t doubt it for a second,” Dean insisted. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Well I’m sure that that would’ve comforted me—if I coulda remembered your name.”

You knew Dean was gonna throw that pillow at you before he’d even grabbed it—you didn’t need your memories to tell you that.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[amethxxt]

i'm ranting about descendants again and this is a long one

Alright, I talked a little bit about this on twitter literally yesterday (https://x.com/amethxxt/status/1798768561613361458) but I wanted to do it here too, so here we are!!

I think everyone has seen these pictures by now. It's from Descendants new book "The World of Auradon: Royals & Villains".

Now, at first, I got really excited (in a way, I still am) because it'll probably give me more material to use in my fics. Also, Uma looks absolutely stunning, so I immediately began reading her page and... Well, it's not the nicest things, right?

Like I said on twitter, I can't be the only one who sees the majorly different ways they talk about Uma and Mal.

With Mal, they start saying she's a "confident natural leader", and like- no, she's not, far from it.

I think the best version we got from Mal was on D1. She was such a good character and that's when I think the writers succeded the most with her - I believe it was hard to find someone who actively disliked or simply hated her.

When D2 came out, things went slightly downhill. Mal's inner conflict of not being the picture perfect Lady of the Court and feeling that the odd one out because she wasn't doing well in Auradon when compared to her friends is very realistic.

The pressure that she was feeling to be perfect and all the new things that came with being the King's girlfriend makes you understand why she was so anxious and wanted to leave. Now, I think we should all understand that this makes Mal a very insecure person.

She's insecure, she's flawed and runs away the first chance she gets because everything becomes too much. And if they wrote her like that, how is she a confident natural leader?

When the Core Four and Ben go after her, it's when things begin to change. Mal has a few moments in this movie: running away and leaving just a note to her best friend, claiming Dizzy was going to be fine when Evie felt sorry about leaving a child in the abusive place they all grew up in, betraying Uma's trust. Yeah.

I'm gonna make it very clear that I really like Mal as a character. I criticize her a lot because the writers started putting her in a pedestal, overpowering her and trying to erase anything that could be seen as bad.

Why would they have Mal apologize for using a love spell on Ben when they make such a cute couple and would be endgame anyways?

It gets worse in D3. I remember watching them announce that Hades was Mal's father and being like "No fucking way" because you want this girl to be not only half-fairy but a half-god?? Was this the only way to have his ember in the story?

Well, I think we got used to that plot after a while, but then - Oh, Mal's also Lady of the Court, she'll be a part of the decisions that concern the Isle of the Lost and a voice for the other VKs.

Yes, Mal is "a confident natural leader" who turns her back on her people and comes up to the idea of closing the Barrier for good to protect Auradon citizens.

Why do they refuse to bring up the fact that it was her idea?? Nevermind the fact that her and Ben weren't married yet, she was not the Queen and had absolutely no power to make that decision. They make Ben so useless, a King with no voice because he's not the main character, right?

So she makes a decision that's not up to her and proceeds to lie to all of her friends, makes empty promisses to both Celia and Uma, and when shit hits the fan, nothing happens.

Having Evie confront her about it is one of my favorite scenes, but what are the consequences? I understand that it was the final movie, but it's so rushed that makes everyone else feel out of character.

Mal and Evie can be the best of friends, but you can't tell me Mal would be like "I was wrong, I have to be a voice for everyone and I shouldn't have lied" and Evie would be just "Ok, perf".

And what about the opposite? When Mal betrays Uma for probably the third time, Uma has no trouble forgiving her? Of course they don't mention what happens in the books, they don't mention Mal trying to hurt Evie (or even get her killed lol) and they don't mention the "shrimpy" incident with Uma.

They don't talk about Mal's wrong doings the same way they talk about Uma.

Uma, according to the new book, is a "confident and resourceful VK with a major mean streak". Sorry, Uma has a mean streak? I don't think so. What Disney and Descendants keep doing is use the definition of a villain for a character who's an antagonist.

Villains have malicious intentions, they are evil. You're gonna tell me the girl who simply wants for all the children to get off the Isle, a place they were forced to live in along with murderers and other criminals, some of those who happened to be their parents, all while surviving off of the garbage that came from Auradon, is the evil one?

That is not to say Uma doesn't make mistakes or does bad things. Mal and Uma have the common point of using a love spell on Ben, which is awful and should be acknowledged as that, but they only do it in Uma's case.

"When Mal and her friends successfully freed Ben, Uma took it one step further by putting Ben under a magic love spell" x "She [Mal] used spells to mess with other students, to convince Ben that he loved her, and to change herself in order to fit in as Ben's girlfriend. But once she realized she needed to ditch the spell book and learn to survive without magic, she was able to become the queen she was always meant to be"

Those... are not the same to me. They detail every thing Uma does during D2, making it clear that using a love spell was worse than the previous actions of kidnapping him, but with Mal it almost feels like they excuse her actions because, eventually, she learned that magic wasn't the way to become who she was meant to be.

Also, what do you mean Mal felt guilty about the other VKs who were left behind? Mal didn't even look sad when her and Evie were leaving Dizzy behind! Evie was the one to come up with the idea to bring more children to Auradon, and when that magically turned into the VK Day (my arch-nemesis plotline along with Merlin Academy), she didn't look worried at all that it would them so long to free all the kids if they were going to pick 4 each time.

And again, her idea to close the Barrier for good (with no way in or out) would mean that eventually, everyone left in the Isle would die. I know it's Disney, and they would never make that happen, but if you're not going in to even leave your trash there (aka their food source), yeah, they're all dying.

Now, with Uma, they point out how she wanted to escape and get revenge on Mal, but like...... not really? Of course she mentions in D2 how she wants Mal's new turf and tries to make a deal with her to leave with her crew, but when she's actually free and we get into D3, it's been months (I think) and while Auradon's scared she's going to do something, we find out Uma spent all that time looking for a hole in the Barrier to get the kids out.

When she makes another deal to help Mal, all she asks for is the guarantee that every kid who wants to leave the Isle is able to do so. Who breaks that promise? The "villain" with the major mean streak or the confident natural leader?

I'm not saying that Mal is real villain, because she's really not. But she's far from how they describe her and if you're gonna tell me she's a natural leader, I better not see her bringing down the Barrier, letting both the kids and villains out, and acting like it's the right thing to do.

VK Day wasn't the answer to free the innocents, but bringing down the Barrier isn't it either! Mal doesn't "help convice Auradon citizens to accept all VKs into Auradon Prep" she just decides to do that lol

And again, that decision is not up to her, she had no legal right to do it. She was just Lady of the Court and nothing else.

Like I said on twitter, Disney and Descendants like Uma because she's a fan favorite, she was one since they announced her as a character. But they insist on the idea that Auradon changed her for the better, as if she was never someone who fought for what was right. She's not perfect either, but they can't write about her in a way that makes her look better than Mal.

How did Mal stop her at the end of D2? Mal didn't do anything, they were fighting, Ben made a speech, Uma turned around and left. That was it.

How did Auradon transform her? Of course they are implying that because of Rise of Red and her becoming the new principal, and even though this plot still kinda confuses me, it still seems like all the wants is for Auradon to be a fair place that doesn't discriminate against anyone.

I now this is getting too long, but I really like ranting about descendants. It's my comfort franchise but there's so many things wrong with it lol

And I also know I'm probably looking too deep into it, but I don't think I'm the only one who sees the ways Disney has always treated Uma and Mal differently.

I want to get this book and see if there's anything else about them. I really wished Disney and Descendants treated Uma better, though.

[cameronspecial]

can you please write the trip with Zach and his family and the reader?! 🩷

Snowboarding Disaster

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

Y/N has yet again been invited to go with the MacLarens on their yearly ski trip. She was invited last year, but she didn’t exactly go snowboarding with the family. She opted to stay in the chalet with hot chocolate and a good romance book. This year, though, she is determined to hit the slopes with her boyfriend. He helps her get all of her gear and they go outside. His family headed out ahead of them. He guides her to sit on the ground, explaining how to put her board binding on. She can see he is trying to hide her laughter and groans in frustration. “Can you help me, please?” she whines, looking at him in despair. He lets his cackle out for a second before bending to help her, “There you go, Baby.” he gives her a kiss on the lips and helps her up.

They head over to the magic carpet to go up the bunny hill and shrieks the moment her board is on the moving belt. “I do not like that feeling,” she cries out, trying to stabilize herself. Once at the top of the hill, Zach does a rundown of the basics and tells her to just try to slide down to him with her board perpendicular to the slope. She is easily able to do it, so he moves on to moving directions by shifting the weight of her body from foot to foot, still keeping the board somewhat perpendicular to the hill. This is where the problem started. She would put too much weight on one foot, which causes her board to twist parallel to the slope and she starts going out of control. After a few times of Zach catching her or her wiping out, she is close to calling it quits. “Come on, Baby. Just try it one more time,” he begs. She gives in to his pleas and tries again. This time she almost got down the hill correctly, but a small bump of snow tilts her board forward. She begins zooming out of control down the hill with no way of stopping. Panic starts to rise when she sees a little kid at the bottom of the hill. Luckily, Zach is able to get down fast enough and tackle her onto her back, just narrowly missing the child. 

She groans, rubbing her head with her gloved hand. “I don’t think I ever want to go snowboarding again,” she moans, sitting up off the ground with Zach. He unbuckles her snowboard and helps her up, “I think you shouldn’t either. How about we head to the chalet and get some hot chocolate, instead?” 

———

The rest of Zach’s family return to the chalet to find the couple cuddled on the couch near the fire. “You guys are here earlier than I thought,” Connie comments, sitting across from her son. Y/N smiles at her boyfriend’s mom, “Yeah, I wasn’t very good at it.” Avery giggles. “Are you sure it wasn’t just that you had a bad teacher?” Y/N gives the younger girl a mind-blown look, “You are absolutely right. It was your brother’s fault I was so bad. Maybe you should be my teacher next time.” “Hey! I am a great teacher, I have never felt so betrayed before,” he gasps out with a pouty look. Y/N brings herself closer to him, giving him a kiss. “It’s okay, you are an amazing boyfriend.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight

[copperbadge]

I am so close and yet so far from being done with The Chicken Salad War, argh. I have the entire rest of the book plotted out, and there's a little less than a quarter of it remaining to write, I think, but it's going to be an intense quarter. And then the rewrites will be a little more extensive than usual because I've basically been skipping scenes I don't want to write, which isn't a lot but isn't zero.

Anyway, have a scene where Ylias and Simon realize that attempting to make an edible sauce using davzda and harissa paste may be an error.

It took a few more minutes of scraping and blending, but in the end the warm, fragrant harissa paste was scooped out and into a bowl, and they both examined it.

"Now…davzda," he said, sounding excited and doomed at once, like someone about to attend an execution but fortunately not theirs.

"I'm wondering, should we just try to loosen it up with the raw hooch?" she asked. "Or actually make some shakshouka and stir the davzda into that?"

"I think to start, we make a sauce -- some beautiful paste, some davzda, and some broth," he said. "I will reserve some for further experiments."

She carried the bowl to the stove and set out a saucepan, spooning some of the harissa into it and then shuffling aside so he could add broth; he whisked them together cold, then added a careful pour of davzda from the ubiquitous gray-green bottle. The smell that rose from the mixture was…herbal, but it began to fade into something more pleasantly spicy as it heated.

[insert brief hold music here for a part of the scene I don't want to spoil yet]

"Now, I must begin prep for dinner, I think, while this simmers."

"Can I help?" she asked. 

He blinked at her. "Oh -- it is my job and I am too accustomed to it. But..." he added, considering, "You won't go yet, will you? You must taste this sauce. And I have been accustomed to company, but not so much with Eddie now looking after the little ones." 

"Can I criticize your technique?" she asked, grinning, and he laughed. 

"Only in French, and I will not be gracious about it," he replied. 

"I'd worry if you were," she said, stationing herself at the stove to mind the sauce while he gathered ingredients. By the time he was done assembling the meatballs, the sauce had thickened and darkened to an almost mahogany color. Simon procured some twist-bread and fetched crudite from the fridge ("I keep carrot sticks for Joan, and His Majesty will enjoy the leftover cucumber at dinner,") and she spooned some sauce out into a bowl, dipping the bread while he tried a piece of carrot. 

At the first taste, he looked thoughtful, chewing the carrot and harissa sauce with a blank look on his face. Ylias, taken off-guard, coughed and nearly choked when she finally tasted it.

"Oh, no, oh dear," she said, taking a long sip of water while he grinned, still chewing. "It's...so earthy."

"The flavoring in the alcohol, I think," he said, finally swallowing and rinsing his own mouth out. "The oil in the chilis brings out the mushroom in the davzda."

"Ugh, but the worst part," she managed. "That's awful. It's not even bitter, really, not like davzda is, it's just...almost cloying." 

"Yes, but..." he considered, eyes narrowed. "There is good flavor there too, just not in balance."

She tapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, chasing stray hints of the sauce, then braced herself and took another, smaller taste. 

"You can almost get to it," she agreed, considering more deeply. "I never bother with mushrooms in shakshouka because they're just texture at that point, the flavor's too delicate for the spice. But maybe...if you could just cut the flavor a bit."

"Less davzda?"

"Defeats the point, but maybe. Or..." she considered. "There's a lot of tomato coming through, but it's the acid. Do you think a sweet note would help, or would that just make it worse?"

"Make this worse?" he asked, amused, but he was already reaching for a jar on the counter. "The family likes muscovado in their coffee," he said, using the little spoon in the jar to lift out a mound of golden-brown sugar. "Yes?"

She gestured for him to give it a try; he added a few spoonfuls and then stirred it with the whisk again. The sauce darkened further, but when they tasted it this time, the horror had receded. 

"Oh, that's...actually nice," she said. "Salty-sweet. You could even use molasses -- or a sherry if you wanted."

"Yes. Very good," he agreed, and then he leaned in and kissed her. 

It surprised them both, she could tell; she didn't pull away -- he was a very good kisser -- but when he leaned back, he looked startled by what he'd done.

"Ah, perhaps inappropriate," he said. "Only -- I like this very much, this experimentation. With the sauce," he added in a stammer. "Although, of course -- "

She held up a finger and he fell silent, looking relieved.

"I like it too," she said. "A little warning next time, maybe."

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Aaah open requests! Yay! I loved the fic about the peacocks interrupting Baldwin and I NEED more light-hearted reader x KOH's Baldwin. Could you pretty please do reader "arguing" with Baldwin over something silly where he ends up teasing her into giving in to what he wants? Basically them behaving like two lovesick teenagers instead of king and queen. Thank you!

♤ All In Good Fun - King Baldwin x Reader ♤

♤ Crack Fic ♤

A/N: Hello Anon! I'm so glad you enjoyed that fic! I agree, I need to do more lighthearted stories and hopefully this one turned out how you wanted it to! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: I used the same scenario from the “Those Darn Birds” fic, just maybe like a week later from when it was set :)

The union of Baldwin’s cousin and her, now husband, had proceeded as planned.

The king did his best to not speak to his new cousin in law and avoided him at all costs to prevent an uncomfortable and insulting interaction.

Y/n stayed beside Baldwin all day, as the king and queen should, so other than a brief awkward congratulations to the newly married couple, there was no other issue.

Still though, Baldwin was not enjoying the event at all. For the entire day, all he could think about was retiring to the royal chambers and getting away from the chaos.

Finally, evening arrived and the guests went to their rooms to prepare for dinner. 

--------------------

“Oh thank the lord that is over!” Baldwin sighed as soon as the door was closed.

Y/n chuckled, “it's not over yet my love, we still have dinner”.

This earnt a heavy sigh from her husband as he removed his mask and veil, sitting his tired body down on the couch.

“Must I go darling? I am sure my presence will not be missed. I barely spoke all day?” he protested.

Y/n laughed again as she sat down at the vanity to fix her makeup.

“You're the king sweetheart! You're the single most important man in the kingdom! You must attend!”.

This earnt another tired groan from Baldwin, “you could just tell them I was too sick to attenddd?” he asked, raising his one good eyebrow.

“Are you suggesting we lie to our own friends and family about your wellbeing?” the queen gasped sarcastically, turning dramatically to look at him.

Baldwin grinned at her reaction.

“Maybe I am! As you say, I am the king after all. I can do what I please” he added in a sarcastically upper class voice, standing to approach his wife.

Y/n laughed again, turning back to the mirror as Baldwin wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on top of her head.

“Is that so? Well I guess you must stay then if you are soo tireddd” y/n teased.

“Well are you going to attend?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, I must attend. Besides, I need to tell the guests that you ‘were so exhausted’ and that you ‘couldn't possibly even stand up any longer’”. 

The king’s smile widened.

“Thank you my loveee” Baldwin said, kissing her head before going to get changed into a nightgown while y/n continued to ready herself for dinner.

She finished getting ready just as Baldwin was snuggling underneath the bed covers with a book in his hands.

Y/n smiled and rolled her eyes as he looked up at her with a cheesy grin.

“Well, you sure look comfortable” y/n teased again, standing from her seat.

“Yes I certainly am, but I would be much more comfortable with you in here thoughhh” he teased back.

The queen bent down to kiss her husband on the forehead.

“Well I shall be back in about an hour, would you like me to bring you some food your highness” she curtsied dramatically causing Baldwin to chuckle.

“Yes pleaseee, you look beautiful by the wayyy” he replied, the goofy grin on his face widening.

“You're lucky that you're sweet” y/n replied, turning to leave.

“I love you!” Baldwin called out.

“I love you too!” y/n called back, slipping out of the room with a small smile on her face.

[number1jeonginstan]

I'm only on here quickly because I am still swamped with work, but I have started writing again, so please don't fret.

I wanted to come on here and give some recommendations for some authors who truly put every fiber of their being into the writing they produce for us, and why I beg and plead you should support them.

I understand wanting to read quick smut, like some creators like I produce, but if you truly want to be immersed in a story and feel a myriad of emotions, here are my recommendations.

@cb97percent They truly are some of the most talented writers I have read in years, and this comes from an avid reader. Their ability to write a story with so much range and emotion is truly impeccable. They set up each scene perfectly, but at times allude to it, to the point that whenever I read their work, I'm truly entranced. I can still remember I believe last summer, I could be wrong because I forget timelines quite easily, that I was constantly refreshing her page to read Unprofessional. When I tell you it had me by the throat, from the first sentence I read, I knew that I had to consume all her work and I hope you guys enjoy it as well because she truly is ever so talented and deserves so much more recognition than she receives.

@straywrds Their ability to portray emotions through their writing is captivating. I can say with full certainty that I have enjoyed ever single one of their fics and series. I have come across several accounts where her fics make me bawl out and cry, my body borderline shuddering from the words on the page, but the sorrow and the pain is worth it. She truly captures the emotions of every character she writes, giving each one of them an extensive background. She makes you feel like you are truly in the story, feeling the reader's emotions every step of the way. Her writing is something I wish I could read again for the first time because it is truly impeccable.

@moonjxsung is another truly amazing writer, and I feel like everyone should check out at least one of her fics. From my perspective, she is truly an incredible writer and I have loved reading all of her works, especially her recent Bangchan fic.

@seospicybin She has some truly wonderful fics, and I have never in my life skipped past them. If you want something longer to bring you either a laugh, like her "Too Hot to Handle" series, or something that leaves you at the edge of your seat, confused about what's going to happen next, like her new "Roadtrip" series, I truly recommend reading her fics!!

@hyunjinspark is another author that I love beyond the end of the width. Both of her Hyunjin fics, although one has not been completed yet, are truly a story. It is like reading a book that just makes you want to never stop, never wanting to put it down. I don't know how I stumbled across her fics, but I'm ever so grateful to find them and immerse myself in them.

Again, this is not me saying that these are the best writers on skz-tumblr (I mean... they kinda are 😁) but if you really want to read something that's longer than 2k words of smut, I really recommend you check these beautiful people out because their work deserves an immense amount of praise.

[endlich-allein]

My goodness, time flies ! The 2024 tour is already over and Till is right when he says in the song 'Zeit' : "So perfekt ist der Moment / Doch weiter läuft die Zeit"

This year marks 30 years since Rammstein travelled the world with their powerful vocals, rousing music and majestic fire. This year, I've been following the band's adventures for 15 years. I've seen them perform in front of 9,000 people and in front of over 90,000 people. I've seen them in modest venues, in dusty fields and in prestigious stadiums. I've seen them in sweltering sunshine and freezing rain. I've seen them evolve, collectively and individually, and I've evolved with them. I saw them laugh and I laughed with them. I saw them cry and I cried with them. They've been with me for 15 years now, like a second family. They are the most constant thing in my life: family members have moved away, lovers have broken my heart, friends have turned their backs on me, acquaintances have left my life as quickly as they entered it… But they're still here.

This year I had the immense pleasure of seeing them on stage again, and as always, it was an absolute happiness. I'm so grateful to them for the joy they bring to their audience, for the 2h15 spend far away from daily worries, for the smiles on the lips, the stars in the eyes and the happy memories in the heads. I'm so grateful to them for my voice breaking from shouting out their names or the words to their songs, for the aches and pains caused by the headbangs, for the legaches from standing so much, for the tiredness of the sleepless nights. I'm so grateful to them for who they are, for their infectious energy, for their boundless generosity, for their determination and courage in the face of those who would silence them. They are, for me, an example of resilience.

"Wenn unsere Zeit gekommen ist / Dann ist es Zeit zu gehen / Aufhören wenn's am schönsten ist". It's the end of an era, a page has been turned, but the book is not yet finished. So thank you Rammstein, thank you Till, thank you Paul, thank you Flake, thank you Schneider, thank you Oliver, thank you Richard and see you soon... ❤️

Thank you to Héloise and Yolande from Abélard, who did not have the easiest part but who showed passion and determination. And who remind us that we should never say no when an opportunity presents itself to us. I wish them good luck in their careers and much love in their lives 💙

I'd also like to thanks again the crew, all those who work behind the scenes and without whom it would be impossible to carry out this tour. I know that some of them will be heading off on tour with Till this autumn, others have already left for other projects and others are enjoying a well-deserved holiday. I wish them all the best 💜

Thank you to the photographers and friends of the band, who immortalised our memories. Thank you to Jens Koch, Paul Harries, Olaf Heine, Matthias Matthies, Rob Lewis and Sebastian Feger 🩷

And finally, one last thank you. I'd like to thank all Rammstein fans. Those who were lucky enough to go to one or more of the band's concerts this year. Those who weren't so lucky but have enjoyed the content shared. Those who express their love for the band by singing, dancing, having fun, writing, drawing or covering their music. We come from different countries, or even different continents, we're of different ages, from different social backgrounds, but we're united by one thing : Rammstein. Thank you, everyone 🙏🏻

[milkywaydrabbles]

I'm the same fluff anon that I didn't know you could cook, now you think you can do something with the indication "I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies", we have to continue loving and caring for that great Dhampir, please?

A/N: Ahh this one is short, I couldn't think much for it but I'm always a sucker for fluff and I love Alucard sm so here you go. I hope you enjoy it anyways! Mwuah!

"I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies." x Alucard

Ugh.

Alucard couldn’t think of a single good thing to say about the day. It turned out to be longer and more difficult than he ever intended it to be. Finally trudging back home, the day simply had to shit on him even more before his boot got stuck in mud, nearly sucking the whole thing into the ground. Honestly, Alucard had half a mind of just leaving it there. He didn’t really need the boot anyways. Decided against it, he pulled it out and uncomfortably placed it back on his foot, squishing within the halls of his castle. He didn’t even call out to you, as he normally would, instead sneaking up the steps and going straight to bathing -- he’d clean up the boot marks later. His sweat and all the muck from the outside made his skin crawl, peeling off layers of clothing onto the bathroom floor to bathe. The water felt incredible, immediately soothing his aching muscles as he dipped in, relishing in the warmth. He’d be quick, just needed to scrub away today’s troubles...

-

Alucard in fact, was not quick.

He’d actually fallen asleep in the bath. Eyes shot open, scanning the room with a fright. How the hell did he fall asleep? It was difficult enough to sleep, let alone with you, and yet he’d completely dozed off. He wasn’t sure for how long, but there was still some sunlight when he got home and now it was terribly dark. Shit. He wondered if you even knew where he was, if you were scared for him, if you were waiting--

“Adrian, honey, are you awake now?” 

...Wait, huh?

He must have said that out loud, because he heard you giggle and walk over, kissing his forehead. “I saw you in here earlier, but you dozed off and I didn’t want to wake you...I checked up on you a few times, make sure you didn’t slip under.” You teased, combing his hair with your fingers. “Come on, pretty boy--you’re gonna get pruny.” As if he wasn’t already.

He really was still in a daze, not entirely sure what was going on--you just let him sleep? He must have been really out of it if he didn’t wake up to you walking in.. The dhampir sleepily dressed himself, and when he found you again immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “Darling, you should have gotten me up, I could have helped with dinner.” He stifled a yawn, inhaling deep after--whatever you had made smelled delicious. And there was something...sweet, in the air. 

“Did you make dessert?”

You nodded, turning around in his arms and kissing his jaw, the closest bit to you. “I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies.” There was no way he could have been out for that long, that you could have made everything from scratch...right? “How did you--” “Just call it a woman’s intuition, you walked out of here this morning so grumpy...I made the batter earlier for tonight.”

It’s like you could read his mind.

He chuckled anyways, tightening his hold on you and swaying back and forth. “How you read me like a book, I’ll never understand my love. But I am very grateful for you, all the same.” You hummed, nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around him. “It’s my job to know you like the back of my hand. I’m your wife.” You teased, hands trailing up to caress his jaw, bringing him down to your level and pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love you dearly, never forget that.” You reminded him over and over again each day, and he silently thanked every god in the sky for bringing you to him.

“Now let’s have dinner, hm? Then we’ll have the cookies later.”

[austinshotbutlers]

The Wedding Date

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!BAU!Reader

Summary: Your sister’s wedding is approaching fast and the thought of showing your boyfriend off to your family and your ex-boyfriend seems like a very appealing idea. The only problem is… you don’t have a boyfriend. Luckily your stony faced, serious, sexy boss has agreed to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?

Word count: 3.8k

TW: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, swear words, bad writing? LOL

A/N: AHHHH! My first fic on here! This is based on the 2005 film of the same title. I literally love this film and I love the idea of Hotch posing as your fake boyfriend. Would anyone be up for a part 2?

The clock read 18:34. You should have finished 34 minutes ago. Everyone had gone home the minute the clock hit 6, the first day all week that the BAU had finished at a reasonable hour. Yet here you were, staring at the words ‘requested vacation confirmed’ which seemed to taunt you through the screen of your computer. It was all booked now, no going back. There was now no excuse for you not to go to your sister’s wedding next week. You sighed frustratedly before closing the tab and continuing with filing case reports that could definitely be saved for tomorrow but you didn’t want to go home, not just yet.

You typed aggressively at your keyboard. The thought of seeing your ex at your sister’s wedding made you more frustrated by the minute. How could she do this to you? Marry your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. Agree to your ex-boyfriend being the best man when you’re the maid of honour? Your fingers hit the keyboard harder and harder before the ringing of your phone drew you from your thoughts. You picked it up and saw it was your mom. You took a deep breath before answering.

“Hi mom,” you said in your best fake happy voice.

“Hi sweetie! Just checking that your vacation has been approved for the big day.” She said over cheerily.

“Yeah mom its all…” you hesitated. “It’s all been approved and confirmed. You can tell Sarah I’m officially ready for maid of honour duties.”

“Oh that’s perfect.” Your mom said with a hint of relief in her voice. “I thought that silly job of yours would try and deny your vacation.”

You rolled your eyes as she once again ridiculed your job. She hated the idea of you chasing serial killers and rapists and every other sick bastard out there. She much preferred the idea of you having a more traditional 9-5, like your younger sister who was oh-so-perfect. Your mom was never a fan of your interest in murder and psychology and profiling when you were in high school. She was even less of a fan when she found out you were doing criminology and psychology at college. Then, when you went on to get your job working for the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit, she expressed a dislike towards your career path choice but she did try to be interested in your work.

“Anyway, I just had some questions about your plus one.” Your mom said, getting back on track to the wedding. “Am I right in thinking you’re not bringing anyone?”

Before you could even think and stop yourself, the words came flying out of your mouth. “No mom… I��m actually bringing my boyfriend.”

‘Boyfriend?! What boyfriend?’ You frantically thought as you ran a hand through your hair.

“Oh honey, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Your mom sounded surprised. “Shall I add him to the guest list then?”

“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!”

“Oh…ok, bye sweetie” she said before you immediately hung up.

You put the phone down onto the desk and whispered ‘oh god’ under your breath. What were you going to do? How were your going to magically find a boyfriend to take to meet your family in less than a week? You stood up abruptly and turned around to be face to face to none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?” ***

Hotch signed his last case file report for the night and looked out his office window to see you sat at your desk. That stern look of concentration on your face that he found adorable as you typed at your computer. The rest of the team had gone home nearly 40 minutes ago yet you were still here. Why were you still here?

He turned back to his desk and started filing away the forms he had been reading and signing nearly all day and then turned to his computer to check his last few emails for the day. One in particular caught his eye that read your name in bold capitals. He clicked on it curiously and skimmed the contents which highlighted that you had been granted 5 days vacation time.

‘It’s good,’ he thought to himself as he packed away his papers and shut his computer down. You never used your vacation days so he’s glad you’re actually taking a break for once. He picked up his coat and headed towards the door of his office. He opened it and flicked the light switch of his office off and began walking down the stairs into the bullpen.

“No mom. I’m actually bringing my boyfriend.” Hotch heard you say into your phone and he faltered in his steps. ‘Boyfriend?’ He questioned. You had never mentioned a boyfriend before. He watched as you ran a hand through your hair, something you only do when you’re stressed or frustrated he noticed.

“Yes! Well, actually I need to check he can still come and I’ll get straight back you. Bye mom!” You said very quickly and hung up the phone. You placed the mobile device down onto your desk and paused before standing up and beginning to get ready to go home. You began to turn around and Hotch panicked. He had no time to move before you were standing face to face.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know you’re taking your boyfriend somewhere.” He replied and you cringed. “I’m sorry,” Hotch continued. “I really didn’t mean to intrude on your phone call.”

“Hotch it’s fine. Honestly!” You said to him and you could visibly see the tension leave his body. “It’s just a shame said boyfriend doesn’t exist.” You added. Oh god, were you really about to spill your guts to your boss?

“I’m sorry?” Hotch replied with a hint of confusion in his tone. Your face visibly cringed at his confusion and Aaron felt his heart squeeze a little at how adorable it was.

“I uh… I don’t actually have a boyfriend. I’ve just said it to make everyone think I’m seeing someone without thinking about the consequences.” You said and you watched Hocth’s eyebrows raise which prompted you to go on. “I can’t believe I’m telling you all this. I really shouldn’t be burdening you with my inability to face my ex at my sister’s wedding.”

Now Aaron was really intrigued. “You can tell me but don’t feel like you have to. I know better than anyone that sometimes we want to keep personal matters to ourselves and away from work.”

You smiled at him, just his voice calming your nerves as you prepared to tell him everything. “So my ex is the best man at my sister’s wedding next week and I haven’t seen him in nearly two years. The day he dumped me, everyone thought he was going to propose and instead of a diamond ring, I ended up with a broken heart.” You cringed at your own words. “Sorry that was so cliché but I’m just dreading seeing him there and with his new girlfriend too. I don’t want him to see me still single, I don’t want him to see I haven’t moved on.”

Aaron listened intently to what you had to say. How could anyone dump you? You were beautiful, intelligent, funny. You were just perfect.

“My family haven’t mentioned him much, they all know it’s a fragile situation but just then, on the phone to my mom, her assuming I didn’t have a plus one just made me snap and before I could stop myself, I was telling her I was bringing a boyfriend.” You collapsed back down onto your desk chair, defeated. “And now I have to find someone to be my boyfriend.”

Aaron didn’t think, which was unusual for him, before he said “I’ll do it.”

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

He suddenly realised what he just said and hesitated before continuing to say “I’ll come to the wedding with you.”

“Hotch… no I couldn’t ask that of you.” You replied shaking your head. “You can’t leave Jack for 5 days. Also will you be able to get the time off? No I really can’t let you do this.”

“Y/N,” Aaron interrupted you. “I’m happy to help.”

You paused to think about it… it definitely would be you best option considering your predicament. But could you really spend 5 days with your boss pretending to be a couple? Your stoic, grumpy, handsome boss who you most definitely have a stupid, school girl crush on. You looked back up at him and locked your eyes with his before the word ‘Ok’ left your lips.

“Ok, lets do it. You pretend to be my boyfriend and I will spend the rest of my time at the BAU making it up to you.” You joke.

Aaron laughs lightly. “You don’t have to make up for anything. I want to help you out.”

***

You quickly unlocked the front door to your apartment and threw your bag down as you entered. You were now a woman on a mission. A mission to find the biggest wine glass in your apartment. You cracked open a new bottle of wine and poured a tall glass, drinking almost all of it in one gulp. What the hell had you just agreed to do? You grabbed your phone and texted the one person who you knew you could tell.

7: 48PM | Y/N L/N: SOS!!! Just agreed to do something truly insane.

7:49PM | Emily Prentiss: Uh-Oh this doesn’t sound good. What’s up?

7:51PM | Y/N L/N: Hotch may have heard a whole conversation with my mother and to cut a long story short, he is coming to my sister’s wedding pretending to be my boyfriend :/

You awaited Emily’s reply. What the fuck was she going to think?

7:55PM |Emily Prentiss: Sorry, I needed time to process what I just read. What the fuck? Are you actually insane?

7:56PM | Y/N L/N: Today officially confirmed my insanity. How the hell am I going to spend 5 days pretending to be in love with him?

7:58PM | Emily Prentiss: I mean it’s not going to be hard. You’ve been crushing on Hotch for like 6 months now. I’ve also had my suspicions that Hotch liked you and today definitely confirms that Hotch is so in love with you.

You couldn’t believe what Emily had just said, could Hotch really be in love with you? No, surely not.

8:01PM | Y/N L/N: Are you joking? Hotch does NOT have a crush on me. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t have silly crushes. And he said he was doing it to help me and I believe that.

8:03PM | Emily Prentiss: Ok, keep telling yourself that but when you both end up head over heels for one another, don’t get angry when I say I told you so.

You just rolled your eyes at her last text, picking up your wine glass to down the last little sip you had left. Now, you had to call your mom back to tell her the good news that your boyfriend was definitely coming to the wedding. Reluctantly dialling her number, you waited as it rung.

“Hi sweetheart, calling back to tell me your boyfriend is coming?” She asked immediately after answering.

“Yeah I am. He’s all set to come so add him down onto the guest list.” You replied. “I guess we will be seeing you next week then.”

“Don’t sound too excited.” Your mom teased. “I’m excited to meet this boyfriend now.”

“Ok, I better go mom, my…. My dinner is burning.” You lied. “I’ll see you next week, bye.”

Your mom barely had time to mutter the word ‘bye’ before you had hung up. You placed your phone down on the table and picked the bottle of win up, pouring more into your glass. You sipped at it more slowly than your first glass, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your skirt as you nursed the dark red liquid. It was going to be a long week.

***

You saw him standing at the gate as you rushed through the airport terminal to meet Aaron. He appeared to visibly relax the moment he saw you as you rushed frantically through the airport with your carry on slung over your shoulder.

“Shit! Sorry I’m so late!” You exclaimed as you finally reached him. “My alarm didn’t go off and then I lost my boarding pass. Sorry for making you check in and go through security by yourself.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now.” He smiled. “Here let me take your bag.” Aaron reached his arm out and took the heavy carry on from your shoulder.

“Oh you really don’t have to carry it for me.” You blushed a little, in awe of how gentlemanly he is. “Thank you though. Are you sure it’s not to heavy?”

Aaron laughed. “Trust me Y/N, it’s fine.” He looked around to the gate and saw people beginning to queue up. “Come on, we better get ready to board.”

“Thank you again for agreeing to do this.” You said to him as you joined the queue. “It’s really helped me out, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, anything to help a friend in need.” Aaron replied. “So, anything I really need to know before we land in LA?”

“Just that my family are insane.” You joke and Aaron laughed lightly. “But my mom will definitely ask you about 50 questions as soon as she meets you so maybe lets set up our story. Where did we meet?”

“Easy, just tell them how we actually met for the first time.” Aaron said with a smile.

You blush a little remembering your first day at the BAU. “But it’s so embarrassing!”

Aaron laughs as you move up the queue and reach the desk, handing over your boarding passes and passports. The flight attendants speedily checked everything and set you on your way to board the plane. Aaron carefully placed your carry on in the overhead locker before doing the same with his own.

“My parents certainly spared no expense.” You said as you sat down, revelling in the luxury of first class. “I think my dad has paid for all of Sarah’s wedding.” You try to refrain from rolling your eyes.

“Are you looking forward to going home?” Aaron asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I guess I’m excited to see my family, it has been nearly two years since I last saw them. After Luke dumped me… I kinda just left everyone in radio silence.” You took a deep breath. “I guess I just needed time to…”

“Heal.” Aaron finished your sentence, a tone of understanding in his voice.

You look him straight in the eyes and see a glimmer of hurt beneath his understanding. “Yeah… I mean we were together 5 years and he just ended it. Just like that.” You sighed before looking away from Aaron. “It’s just been difficult… blah enough of me complaining.” You mentally told yourself off. Who were you to complain? And to Aaron Hotchner of all people. The man who had been through what he had. You needed to stop.

***

Aaron pushed the trolley with all your suitcases piled on through the doors of the airport as you stepped out into the air of LA. You missed spending you summers here, it did feel nice to be home.

“My mom and dad said they’d pick us up. They should be somewhere.” You said to Aaron as you tried to look around for them. Suddenly, you saw them making their way over to the two of you excitedly. “Oh sweet Jesus.” You muttered to yourself.

“Oh my goodness! You’re finally back home!” Your mom squealed as she grabbed you and pulled you into a tight hug. “It’s been too long sweetie. I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Come on now Y/M/N, let me give my daughter a hug.” Your dad said as he tried to pry you from your mother’s suffocating embrace. “How is my buddy?”

You pulled a face at the nickname your dad hadn’t used since you were 12. “Dad I’m not 12 anymore.” You laughed and hugged him back. “I’ve missed you though.”

Aaron watched in awe as your parents made a fuss of you, something he never had when he was growing up but always said he would do for his own children. And once all the excitement had calmed down, both your mom and dad turned to face him.

“Oh my Y/N, he’s very handsome.” Your mom whispered a little too loud.

“This is my boyfriend Aaron.” You smiled as you moved to stand at his side, wrapping an arm round his back as Aaron moved his arm to sit round your waist.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr and Mrs Y/L/N.” Aaron leaned forward to shake your dad’s hand but your mom slapped it away.

“There’s no need for such formalities Aaron!” She said. “It’s lovely to meet you! Although, I didn’t know you existed.” And she yanked Aaron in for one of her suffocating hugs.

“Mom you’re going to scare him away!” You said frustratedly and she let aaron go, letting him come and stand back by your side.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you all headed to the car. Aaron helped your dad pile all the suitcases in the trunk before he came and joined you in the back of the car, taking your hand in his. The drive was wonderful, being able to take in all the things you missed about LA while living in Washington.

“So Aaron, what do you do?” Your dad asked as he drove.

“I work at the BAU with Y/N. I’m the Unit Chief.” He replied, your hand still held tightly in his.

“Does that mean you’re her boss?” Your mom interjected.

“I am the leader of the BAU team but there are more people above me such as our Section Chief. But technically yes, I suppose I am Y/N’s boss.”

“Trust me though when I say no favouritism goes on in the BAU. He still bites my ass off if I step out of line.” You joke and your parents chuckled.

The conversation flowed well between your parents and Aaron, much to your relief and before you knew it, your dad was pulling into your driveway. You smiled as you took in your family home that you had missed.

“Home sweet home.” Your dad said as he turned the engine off and the unanimous sound of seatbelts unbuckling filled the car. You all began to climb out and Aaron immediately started lifting the bags out the trunk. You walked round to help him and cringed seeing all your suitcases.

“For someone who always has the smallest go bag, you packed a lot for this trip.” Aaron laughed as he placed down your last suitcase.

“Yeah I may have overpacked just a little.” You giggled and settled on carrying the smallest of all your bags into the house. Both you and aaron trekked up the stairs to your bedroom which you hadn’t stayed in in years.

“Wow mom. You really didn’t change a thing huh?” You muttered as you looked around the childhood bedroom. Pink walls blasting in your face, a Top Gun poster of the shirtless volleyball scene, magazine cuttings of Madonna in the 90s and a random A3 poster of George Clooney in his scrubs from ER. Aaron placed the last of the bags down and took in the obnoxiously decorated room.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to profile me based on my ill-taste in room decorating.” You laughed and Aaron laughed with you.

“It’s… it’s just not what I was expecting.” He said, once again looking around.

“And what were you expecting Agent Hotchner?” You teased.

“I guess I’m just shocked by the hot pink walls. I might have to put my sunglasses on.”

You lightly punched his arm which Aaron found adorable. “Shut up. It’s not that bright.” You rolled your eyes.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed and you picked it out your pocket.

3:36PM | Emily Prentiss: How’s it going? I’m guessing you’re in LA now.

You turned slightly so Aaron couldn’t see your phone even though he was busy unpacking.

3:38PM | Y/N L/N: It’s going surprisingly well. Everything has gone well with my parents. Only downside is that I’m having to subject Aaron to my awfully decorated room.

3:39PM | Emily Prentiss: Oooh it’s Aaron now is it?

3:41PM | Y/N L/N: Oh shut up. I have to go because we have to get ready for my sister’s engagement party. Kill me now. Hopefully I don’t see he who must not be named.

3:42PM | Emily Prentiss: Good luck and if in doubt, just make out with Hotch… or should I say Aaron?

You shook your head at her last text. Emily was loving your predicament a little too much. You turned back to Aaron, who was still busy unpacking, and your cheeks flushed a little at just how good he looked in his polo shirt, his arms flexing as he moved a suitcase. He then caught you looking at him.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

You snapped out of your school girl crush haze and focused your full attention to his questions. “Yes! Just my sister checking in, making sure we’re here and getting ready for the engagement party.”

“What time is the party?”

“5:30! So we have just under two hours to get ready. God, I better start unpacking to hunt down my dress and makeup.” You groaned.

As you began unzipping your cases and searching for everything you needed for the night, thoughts flooded your head.

Was this façade crazy? Yes. Yes it was.

Will this engagement party go smoothly? Probably not.

Is Luke still going to be a total dick? Oh most definitely.

Are you going to fall in love with Aaron?

‘Am I going to fall in love with Aaron?’ You thought once more and looked back over at him, sorting out his suit for tonight. Taking so much care to not disturb any of the clutter in your room, giving you the space you need to get ready, being just so… Aaron Hotchner, so perfect…

You were so fucked.

***

Part Two

[howlingday]

"What... am I doing here?"

Jaune: (Thinking) I'm going to die here. What should I do? I still need to pick up Blake's dress from the seamstress. And return those books Penny checked out from the library...

Jaune: What, what am I talking about? This woman is holding a sword to my neck. Oogh... My head hurts... I'm so tired... Oh, look, Saph's in the corner there...

Jaune: Oh, Saph... You've grown into a woman already, huh? You don't need me to take care of you anymore. You make your own lien now. I don't need to keep killing for lien.

Jaune: This seems like a good place to stop. If I die here, I won't need to go to the library or the seamstress.

Woman: He's done. Go kill that guy and his kid.

Lady: Yeah, yeah- (Barrier stops her)

Jaune: Not... yet...

Jaune: Tai...? Tai. Why was I helping him again?.

Taiyang: (Memory) I just... want a quiet life.

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Oh, yeah, that's right. That's why I started getting into this kind of work. That's why I stayed in this kind of work. I was so worried about keeping everything together, I completely forgot.

Jaune: Was it for lien? Or my kingdom? Well, yeah, but it's more than that. What I really wanted...

Jaune: ...WAS TO KEEP SAPH HAPPY.

Jaune: There's death in this world. And disease. And evil who want both of those things to grow. If I wanted stop either and both of those things from happening to her, I had to get on my knees and start cleaning.

Jaune: And that hasn't changed. In fact...

Jaune: IT'S MORE THAN EVER.

Jaune: (Grabs sword)

Jaune: I don't need peace.

Jaune: (Breaks sword) I don't care if my body breaks down.

Jaune: (Stands up) Even if it means I live a life that brings me closer to death than ever!

Jaune: (Slashed)

Jaune: Even if it means I have to leave the Belladina family...

Blake: (Memory) You have to be in front of everything and take it all for the sake of another person... I truly admire that.

Jaune: Blake would respect that. She would understand.

Jaune: (Grabs woman, Headbutts into heap)

Jaune: THAT'S WHY I'M HERE!.

[bao3bei4]

ON THE TSHIRT METHOD TO WRITING ESSAYS IN YOUR OWN TIME: 

i have had a couple people mention to me that they would like to write essays too, but they are a little out of practice. so i thought i should gather some scattered thoughts into one place. this is not a systematic guide. i am young and inexperienced and still working out things for myself, but this is my basic process and some things that have helped me, summarized. 

my biggest single piece of advice is to write with your proverbial pussy. you are not writing for a grade so don't act like it. forget rigor, forget academic style, etc. read what you're interested in, and write following up on the threads that you're interested in. don’t sweat the details. just do you.

if you still need more advice..... here’s a long winded post. 

step zero: if you have no clue what you want to say yet 

read. and read a lot.

but be realistic. be kind to yourself. your attention is a precious resource, and it is getting eaten up by shit out of your control all the time. if you’ve had a busy day, you may still have the brain power left to read. i almost never do. lol. so make sure to carve out time on a day off, if possible. otherwise you might end up completely fried, reading the same sentence over and over, and ending up scrolling on your phone LMAO. <-- painful lesson also to this end, if you haven’t picked up a denser book in a while, start with shorter articles, especially ones written more recently. if your attention wanders, try getting a physical book instead. the most important thing is just starting things you’ll actually read.  i’ve seen a lot of people (and been that person) who was like. “oh i’m going to start with THE canonical text in a subject i’m interested in” which makes sense right? but that book is inevitably long and dense and convoluted and boring. you can come back to it later. this shouldn’t feel like a chore! 

genuinely this is the most helpful thing you can do is just. read anything. it may be difficult at first (or always), but it is still the easiest way to engage with the foremost experts from around the world and the entirety of written history on any subject you are interested in. there’s not really a substitute to this. 

note: you may say that people can and do come up with brilliant ideas independently of their access to written works. this is true! but if you are one of them, you should skip this section/post, because you already know what you want to say.  okay that was a little too facetious. let me revise: when i say that, without reading, it will be hard to come up with more complex ideas than what you have now, that isn’t necessarily pejorative. maybe your current ideas and impulses are original and meaningful and complex. if they aren’t, however, you don’t have to resign yourself to it.  your experiences in real life are the most valuable thing you can bring to the table, but it can be very difficult to articulate and contextualize them without community—whether that be irl, or the simple textual company of other writers. you can let other people help you and teach you.  basically, this is a long winded way of saying something extremely simple: reading is not the only way to gain knowledge, or even the best. but it is an extremely consistent and relatively egalitarian way.** **scihub and libgen and sometimes the public library are your friends. (my local library’s book coverage is spotty) who cares about piracy. LMAO. 

you may surprise yourself by how nicely you fall into little spirals. you read one thing. and you are enamored with the way the author approaches their subject. so you end up reading everything else they’ve written, and then you start on the authors they list that inspire them in their interviews. maybe you just read one article that’s a little dry but it cites something else that seems far more interesting. read that next. and so on. 

if you are struggling to read that’s okay. you have options. start a book club (or just get a friend who also wants to read more). if that sounds like too much work, pick a friend to keep updated on all your new facts. you just want to get used to reading something, and telling someone your favorite parts again. skim books. skip the boring parts. drop them entirely and find a more interesting one. no one’s going to quiz you. this is for your own enjoyment. 

also important here: read books that make you want to write. sometimes this is because the methods and/or prose of the author are so exciting, you want to do something just like that. sometimes it’s because the content is so exciting, you want to say something about that too. sometimes they speak so powerfully to your own life, you want to tell people this is me!! i see this!! there are books i just enjoy reading, sure, and i do read them. but you know how, like, a good movie makes you want to tell stories too? good theory should do that too, in my opinion. 

step one: you have some ideas now. 

these ideas don’t have to be set in stone. but you should have an idea now of what you might talk about. personally, for me, i have two interconnected types of essay ideas. 

interventions. this is like [tumblr voice] Why Is Nobody Talking About This. i see some sort of hole. maybe i know how to fill it, maybe i don’t. 

free associations. basically i read one thing, or some analysis of one thing. and then it reminded me of another thing. and i’m like. i want to tease apart their connections, their similarities, and their differences. 

there are more types of ideas, i’m sure. but these are the ones i consistently have. with me, the second kind is more common. very rarely do i find that my thoughts are that original. rather, i’ve found that one of my strengths as a writer is being able to make connections that other people haven’t made, or haven’t made in depth before. IN MY OPINION. 

so i find it quite flexible. maybe i watch a movie, and it reminds me of my own life, because i think two women in the movie could be sad queer freaks. and i’m a sad queer freak. or it could be that i think scum villain could be analyzed through the framework of freudian psychoanalysis. you get the idea. 

at this stage of the process, i don’t have a thesis, necessarily. but i have a couple phrases i’m drawn to. i have a bullet point or two. i have vibes. 

to use an example from this blog, one of my friends hui once mentioned that that one fan image was going around again. we were going ughhh it’s victorian not chinese! together and they said “you should write a meta on it.” i wasn’t sure quite yet what i had to say. but i knew a couple things. 

this is, incidentally, because i had done some research into chinoiserie before, because i had cited the zuroski book for a paper i had to write for an english class some years before on pride and prejudice and its use of descriptions of material culture, an essay that in turn was inspired by my random yet deeply felt conviction that jane austen hated me personally and wanted to kill me.  this is why i encourage reading a lot. i think. 

to work on this stage, make lists. lots of them. i have a .txt file where i keep every essay idea i have. a lot of them are a sentence. or they're lists of books or theorists i think i could make something out of. or they're theses that feel true, but i’m not sure why yet. 

it took me a while to get to this point. just like with writing fic, there was a period when i first started where i was like. i only have one idea. i’m going to write it, and then i’m never going to write again. and then i had just one more idea. after a while. eventually you will find you have so many ideas and the world is full of possibilities. it’s a muscle you have to flex. like reading. and telling people about what you’re reading. 

actually, i feel like there was a step 0.5 here that i completely skipped. 

step zero point five that i skipped: how to generate ideas

my very truly complete “first time writing something semi-academic that was original” (with a loose definition of the word original) was literally just me reading literary criticism of one book, and saying “i think this author’s thoughts can be applied to this other book” and found some textual evidence that supported that the process could be replicated. 

this is like, writing with training wheels on. eventually i got better at it (see aforementioned chinoiserie essay. i hope you agree.). but that was a good place to start for me. it made the proverbial blank page less intimidating, knowing i had a scaffolding. 

i suggest trying this. see how it goes for you. read around until you find some piece of criticism, or just some theory about how something works, that you like. and using your newfound hammer, go look for some nails. 

note: i know this expression is meant to like. be a negative thing. but you do have to start somewhere. it’s okay if it sucks. it’s just for your practice and your enjoyment. 

be cautious of stances. weak writing (in my OPINIONNNN) tries to unilaterally defend or condemn a behavior. what you need to do is treat your writing as a bit. and then you need to run with it. you need to take it farther than what is reasonable. if this bit is truly actually deeply true, then what does it mean about yourself? it’s like using a new set of pronouns as a joke or something. you know what i mean? (that was an example of what i’m trying to communicate here)

what else is key to look out for... look for oppositional pairs or tensions. look for perverse incentives and vicious circles. look for embarrassing ideas. that is, what would be extremely embarrassing if it was true? (or to admit that it was true) you may go—tshirt, here you’re just describing things that are sexy. yes, exactly, that’s the point. you want things that thrill. 

just keep reading and making notes until everything echoes with something else. now you’re ready for step two. 

step two: refine your ideas further. 

let me do this by demonstration. once more extending my earlier example of my chinoiserie essay, i knew that i really wanted to take zuroski’s points and basically... steal them. this is called “citation,” i guess. but i thought the following insights were useful to me: 

british women were invested in chinese material objects 

they incorporated them into their own subjectivity

past a certain point, they no longer “consumed” these signifiers, but these signifers became theirs 

critique of one was able to stand in for critique of the other

and from being on fandom twitter, i already had the following insights: 

people deliberately blurred the lines between china and england when it came to fans and tea

people also liked talking about victorian modesty when it came to china 

so it seemed like victorian england and china had a privileged relationship, in a lot of people’s minds in fandom. 

so it didn’t really seem a stretch to say... how can we look at one history, and apply it to our present? 

it was a bit of the combo of the two: i saw something i didn’t see people were talking about, and it reminded me of something else i’d read before. 

something that helps me a lot is tweeting about my essay ideas. if you have me on my private account, you already know this. it forces me to explain myself to someone who doesn’t know what i’m talking about in a very succinct way. oftentimes, i tweet something out while i’m brainstorming, and then i steal the phrasing back into my essay. see? tweets can be writing too. 

this is microdosing on step zero’s “read something and practice telling a friend about it.” now you’re writing something and telling a friend about it. 

step three: okay now you can like. open a google doc 

make an outline. i know i know i know. i’m sorry. you can start just barfing thoughts if you want, but eventually everything that was on the top of your head will be out. and now you can start thinking about structure. the reason the outline is important is because it makes clear the logical progression from one idea to the next. 

i know i usually bounce around in my writing (a tendency which has been magnified here because this is so casual LMAO), but i always want to make sure that my points are substantiated. if we want to talk about how a causes b, we should prove a, we should prove the causal link, and only then can we infer b, for instance. it doesn’t really matter what order that happens in (or even that we set about it that way), but the more complicated your idea is, the longer checklist you need. it’s just a checklist. that’s all. 

as you start writing, you’ll probably need to read some more. you’re going to want to say something you think is true, but you’re going to realize that you haven’t proved it (or you can’t). go look to see if someone else has proved it. 

maybe you’re right. add that evidence in. maybe you’re wrong. now your essay has a new direction. there is a living thing beneath you. actually, on that idea— 

i tend to structure my outlines (if i’m not sure yet what my point is) by pasting a bunch of quotes in a document, and reorganizing them until they make sense, they seem to flow. and then i start explaining why, until i realized i have begun to walk off in a new direction. always embrace that new direction. eventually you will find that you have not been taking twists and turns, but actually you were dizzily walking along a straight path. (unless you have been unfocused and you are trying to say too many things at once. ask a friend to read your essay if you’re not sure which is the case.) 

quotes are the smallest unit of your analysis. work with evidence. or, at least, i do. it makes writing an essay like solving a mystery. the idea of just spontaneously generating something new fills me with terror. rather, i want to autopsy something, trace its steps, and then discover how it came to be dead. this may not be true for you. but it’s true for meeeee and this is my post. 

tl;dr

0. read something and tell someone about it/post it out

0.5. come up with a bit and run with it

1. think "why is no one talking about this" or start free associating

2. come up with weird connections and tell someone about it/post it out

3. collect all of your posts and ideas into a gdoc and organize them.

anyway i like reading posts like this because i’m incredibly nosy. so i tried to write out the sort of thing i like to read from other people. i don’t suggest you actually try to replicate it (if anyone would even want to.) practically basically i just encourage you to try any single part of this that you think was interesting or relatable or helpful. personally, i suggest reading a book and posting your favorite lines from it. if you do this a couple times, i think you will find the seeds of an essay waiting for you in your own posts.