#you have no idea how much I love space science and i REALLY hope this continues

[sugarverse]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could request either long or short fic about Tenya Iida. Likes it can be set in a modern setting where's he's a senior college student who's majoring in business and he has to take one more class to get his degree. It just so happened that the class is in the art building, and it is figure drawing (aka nude drawing) . Since he's just now hearing of the extra class he has to take, he's suddenly shocked when the model is an old friend of his from back home, whom he had a childhood crush on. Not only does his feelings for her come back, but he also has to have 1 on 1 section with the model for educational purposes. I kinda want it to be smut and fluff or however you see it fit. Anyway, I hope it's enough+

hi babe! omg I love this idea I kinda went a lil crazy and made it way too long. I hope u enjoy :)!!

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.5k

mentions of: This is really just the fluff portion of it, kinda suggestive bc he pops a boner and leads to sex in part two. I think I’m going to make a third part simply so the two of you can go on a genuine date andsotheresmoreiidaxblackreaderouthere.

a/n: hells yeah that’s enough, hopefully I did what ya asked and so sorry I went overboard I have serious problems. here’s the smut part bc a 6.7k fic is doing too damn much but i can’t stfu my fault gang

moodboard here!

Tenya Iida.

4th year, Senior in college majoring in International Business and minoring in Spanish at Angelwood College of Arts and Sciences.

The visual arts building had only been a few minutes away from the business side of campus, which he gladly enjoyed the walk. This spring all he needed to finish was two gen ed classes, the rest revolved around his major and minor. His counselor helped set up his ‘missing’ classes before winter break considering he had to fly back to Japan to see his family for the holidays. He was ecstatic to learn all he needed was an art class with lab and a communications class. 

When he asked what the class entailed, all he was met with was “beginner artists learning anatomy.” It didn’t sound difficult, just draw what you see. It would be nice to try something new anyway. He was not much of an artist but like all things Tenya does, he planned to give this class his all. The first week had been pretty easy, learning how to draw what you see with the use of models, shapes, and lines. Nothing too hard to follow. He would practice drawing his friends on the sketchpad he bought specifically for the class as a form of studying in the free time he had.

He neverminded it for the most part, excelling his knowledge in different countries in his free time to get better at his major. Sure they could teach you the technical way to do things, but in the end, everyone is still human. It would be inconsiderate to do business with a country and know little to nothing about their culture! It took almost two weeks for him to finally be able to even start the art project anyway.

As time went on and the January snow grew less and less, it was time to start their first real project of the semester. One on One figure drawing. The class needed to fill out a form explaining their free hours due to the limited art space and everyone's different schedules. Tenya happily filled it out when it was posted, continuing to work on class work from the library so that the lecture room could also be used for said project.

Their professor had explained that in-person class would remain on Mondays and Thursdays. It just worked out better for the models and students to have so much space.

He made the small walk over to the arts building for his last class of the day, a small shine in his glasses as he entered the white light of the room. The walls were anything but bare, artwork and unfinished projects sat in every corner of the room. Paint racks, canvases big and small, even stacks of unused clay. There was a stool sitting on a small platform in the middle of the room, assuming where the model will sit. 

He stood next to the stool for a moment, looking up at the grey February sky through the skylight. The natural lighting was great, almost like a spotlight. He adjusted the lights in the room a moment, dimming them slightly so the white light hadn’t been so harsh on his eyes. He headed over to a more organized table, setting out the art supplies how he liked. He knew he was early, but he wanted to make a good first impression. What’s better than being on time?

He pulled out his laptop, checking that the few assignments for today were done and submitted. A small frown tugged at his lips as he realized he hadn’t finished something completely, typing in the last few answers. He always double checked, technology was reliable.. When it wanted to be. He couldn’t hear the shuffle of slippers against the floor over his typing and frankly, loud thinking. 

He could see someone walk past in a teal robe representing the university's colors. Glancing up from the computer to give the model a proper hello, Tenya opens his mouth to speak but pauses. 

“Y/n?” He asked, almost in a whisper in case he was wrong. A small look of confusion caused him to tilt his head to the side slightly. He hadn’t been able to see you for awhile with such busy schedules, but he knew your silhouette by heart. 

You turn at the sound of your name, mid sliding off the slippers and fumbling with the gold silk of the belt. “Tenya?” You smile, asking as you turn to slide your shoes back on and quickly shuffle your way over to him. He felt his face burn red, frozen in place for a moment with his jaw slack. He stood as if needing to detach from the seat, smiling at your happy demeanor and your quickness to wrap your arms around him. 

“It is you! I know those shoulders from anywhere!” You beamed, feeling his hovering hands slowly place themselves on your back to return the hug. He was very hesitant, simply because you were only in a robe. You pull away, hands resting on your hips and giving him a big smile. “Now what are you doin’ taking a figure drawing class, Mister businessman?”

He let out a sheepish chuckle, “I needed an art credit, W-What are u doing here?” He never had any classes with you at Angelwood, A few honors classes and gym in highschool but other than that, nada. Throughout the course of growing up, your interests drove you to different classes. 

However, classes don't matter when your families are as close as yours and the Iida family. Shared Holidays, playdates, game nights.. It wasn’t like you were some stranger. You both always made time to hang out a few times during the year to catch up without the family just to give a real check on each other. It was his favorite, almost like a mini holiday to talk to you.

He loved spending time with you. You were smart, articulated and incredibly creative. You never took slack from anyone.. Even in middle school he can remember you being the one to stand up and say something when things weren’t right. You were headstrong and determined in anything that you did.. Art majors always get a lot of grief but you never let that deter you. And that was admirable in itself! ..And he had always thought you were so pretty. 

He felt like a kid again, heart feeling as if it’d beat out of his chest at the mere sight of you. It had been around Halloween the last time he saw you, and here it was. Almost Valentine's day.. Still as pretty and bright as he remembered. Your next hangout wasn't for another month or so, so it was nice to see you sooner than that.

“I'm your model, silly!” You head over to the stool, continuing to speak. “The art department asked if I’d help in modeling and I said yes! People were too scared to sign up for the most part. I’m surprised this is the class you picked. Did you want to learn how to draw people?” You slide your slippers off once more, untying the cute bow on your hip that held your robe shut. 

Suddenly the room was very hot and he couldn't breathe. Now his heart really WAS beating out of his chest. He quickly did a 180, shielding his eyes and removing his glasses for extra measure. “WHY– do yoU have.. nothing on underrrrneath?” He croaked, voice cracking as his tone raised slightly.

You tilt your head at such a question, the gears clicking a little later than they should have. “Figure drawing is um.. Nude drawing, Tenya. You didn't know that?” You slide the robe back on, giggling at the flustered man across from you. You could see his shoulders tense, shaking his head slowly.

Now how the fuck could he have missed that.

“I um.. No, I didn't. I thought that it was.. I don't know what I thought. My counselor picked it for me and I.. Most models we've used so far have.. had skin colored undergarments… On.” He let out a nervous laugh, keeping his glasses off. He turns around, cleaning them with the end of his shirt but refusing to look up at you. He needed to mentally prepare his brain to be professional in a situation like this. Not that he minded the glance, he just never thought this would be how..

You prop your feet onto the edge of the stool, interrupting his thought. You held your knees up to your chest so he couldn’t see anything but your bare legs. “Oh Ten, I’m sorry! I can ask someone else to-”

“No! I am perfectly.. capable. It's professional and I can be.. professional..” He put his glasses back on, hand refusing to be steady as he did so. He let out a shaky sigh, smiling at you and finally looking at you once more.

You let out a small laugh at the blush on his cheeks. He was so handsome, but to see him so flustered over little ol’ you? It made your week. “We can start slow, that might help.” you slide the robe down your shoulders, slowly putting your legs back down so he could see your robed torso once more. You stopped at the top of your breasts, letting your collarbone show. “Do you have any specific poses..?” You ask quietly, trying to hold back your amusement.

He sits down, red faced and completely flushed. A nude model.. jeez. From sleepovers to recess, studying together to graduating, and now almost graduating for the final time together. That's something you don’t get to have in every lifetime. But why do these thoughts keep coming back to him now? 

There was no way he could still have romantic feelings for you. He’d never put your friendship at risk like that!

..right?

“I um.. yeah, small.” He cleared his throat, “Could you um.. Could you stand slightly off of the um.. Almost like getting up?” He fumbled over his words, staring at the empty paper as if he could burn the quick image in his brain onto the page to get the embarrassment over with. He sighed once more, trying to focus as he began sketching circles and lines as a starter sketch of the pose he wanted.

“When you need to draw a certain part I'll move it, Sound fair?” You ask, resting one foot onto the stool and one onto the ground. Your hand gripped the seat as your butt sat on the edge, similar to when people do that supposedly hot thing where they throw their head back and pull some weird rope to have water get poured on them. 

It was second nature at this point for people to see you. Of course some of them were flustered and it was pretty awkward at first, but normally not to the point of stuttering and stammering. It wasn’t often that you saw Tenya fall apart, but this was way different. Especially considering you flashed him without warning. He was one of the most endearing people you had ever met, there was no way you would have done that without proper context.

He could only nod in response, not wanting to further make a fool of himself. Lightly tapping the pencil against the table, He looks up at you. “You can um.. re.. remove the top part, y/n..” It was hard to simply draw your arms and collarbone without including the robe, so you might as well rip the band-aid off and start with the top. 

You nod, dropping it happily and letting the robe pull around your hips and between your legs. You close your eyes, facing up toward the skylight in an attempt to make him less nervous. “Sorry for flashing you at first, I would have explained but I assumed you had already known..?” You laugh quietly to yourself at your own mistake. Why would someone like him even take this class if he knew what it actually entailed?

And God, did he feel like a pervert staring at your chest like this. The boner poking his thigh almost immediately didn't help, making it even harder to concentrate. Way to keep composure. He pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. “I had no idea, I’m sorry for my r..reaction.” He answered, stopping the pencil tapping to actually begin sketching more than just circles and lines. He hadn’t meant to yell, but he felt like he was close to passing out. 

“I think it was a pretty valid one.” You send a reassuring smile his way, seeing him send you one right back. Trying to ease the mood, you look back up at the ceiling and close your eyes to avoid staring at the ugly overcast sky above you. “How was winter break? You get to go home and see your family? How are they?” 

His smile grew wider at your question, scooting under the desk a bit more so that you hopefully wouldn’t notice his body reacting. “They’re great, Tensei is getting married soon,” He sounded excited at the thought alone, incredibly proud of his brother. 

“And my mother has started a hobby making soap, if you can believe it. She sent me some to bring back one that smells like lavender and another that smells like oranges mixed with I believe she said papaya.? She made a coconut smelling one for you– I was going to give it to you the next time we saw each other,” 

The sound of his sketching stopped and started as he spoke, giving your body small glances as he tried to study each part of your upper torso. The way your stomach creased, The way your shoulder was slightly lifted causing your collarbone to be more prominent, the curve of your breasts.. “How was your Holiday, y/n?”

“No way, Tensei is getting married?!” You accidentally stop posing, fully facing him in genuine shock. The robe was still covering your lower half, you had tied the belt to avoid accidentally flashing him again but here we are. You watch his face become even more red, eyes very obviously not meeting yours but still like a deer in headlights. 

You quickly get back to posing how you were, “Sorry Ten, That's amazing!! I hope everything goes smoothly for him and his soon to be wife.. And tell your mommy I said thank you for thinking of me. I can't wait to try it!”

A smile stayed on your lips as you thought about the times you’ve spent in the Iida household. His mother always had the best candles and incense burning, you were positive the soap would be the same. “My family is up to the same old shit, you know them..” You let out a small groan, the holidays weren’t an absolute disaster, but after not being home so long makes you remember why you aren’t going to school anywhere near home. 

“I did get some cool stuff for Christmas though! I got some new clothes and they got me a few art kits. You know, where it teaches you how to crochet? I also have a new diamond painting kit, I haven't opened either yet because it's just been so busy.” You replied, tapping your fingers on the side of the stool where your hand sat. 

You look up once more, this time because the skylight was beginning to be covered in snow. You watched as it fell, thinking back to old times when you and Tenya would spend the last three major holidays with each other. You’d always make sure to trick or treat together, your families have been sharing Thanksgiving for as long as you can remember, and spending the night in your basement on Christmas eve to wait for Santa until you were both too old. Then instead of waiting for Santa, you’d all eat at least one meal together on Christmas day. Sometimes homemade breakfast, other times a small trip to IHOP or Waffle House.

“God damn it.. It’s snowing again..” You let out a small laugh, looking over at him over your shoulder, fingers still tapping away at the base of the stool. “Hey Ten, Do you remember when we used to have those big snowball fights? The one near Red Fern?” 

“Of course I do! You refused to wear any kind of gloves and my mother would make you at least put socks on your hands so you didn’t get frostbite!” The two of you shared a small laugh at the memories of being young and dumb.

“Gloves always made my hands too itchy! They still do– But I kicked your ass in snowball fights with gloves or not.” You retort, a smirk appearing on your face. “Ice queen y/n of everything.” You could remember the insane snowball fights the neighborhood kids would have every. time. It snowed. If there was enough to make a few snowballs, there was enough to start a war. Tenya was always on your team, but it never stopped you from throwing a few his way. The ‘winner’ was King or Queen of the hill and first to sled down, which often enough was you.

“Remember when you almost broke my glasses throwing one right at my face?” He snickered, watching your smirk turn into a small pouty frown. He knew you didn’t mean to, that same day you helped your mom make cookies for him and his family as an apology, even though he wasn’t upset to begin with. But you knew it could have broken his glasses and you would be devastated if you were the reason for it. You were a real sweetheart, even if you had a weird way of showing sometimes.

“Hey! You know that wasn’t on purpose, I felt really bad after! I even let you get me back!” Which was true, but he never aimed for your face. Always a spot on your fluffy coat, never your legs because you hated your pants being wet… and a face shot just felt wrong to him. 

“Yeah, Yeah. I remember that part too,” He smiled to himself. “Those were really good times.. I remember Tensei always bringing us hot chocolate and we’d sit on your porch and draw things in the snow..”

“Oh! And when we’d come back all wet and mom already had spare clothes in her hands because she didn’t want it on the carpet. We’d put on too big clothes just to sit and watch Christmas movies..” You missed those times. But they never really had to stop, you two could have a huge snowball fight after this if you wanted to and the snow stuck. Was he too grown for that? Would it even sound fun to him?

“Do you still watch A Year Without Santa Clause every year?” He asks, breaking your train of thought. You nodded quickly at his question, grinning like a maniac. “Of course I do! And I watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas, Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.. And sometimes Spongebob's Christmas Special. Do you still watch old Christmas cartoons?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Don’t wanna ruin tradition.” He answered, pressing his lips together slightly as he stared down at the paper. You can tell he freezes a bit, the sound of his scribbling coming to a stop. He set the pencil down, rubbing the sweat of his hands onto his thighs.

 “You can um.. remOove-..” He quickly cleared his throat, “The rest.” He let out a disappointed sigh at his inability to keep composure. This wouldn't be half the problem it was if it was someone else modeling. But this is you we're talking about. 

“You sure? If you need a minute we can take a break, honey.” You gave him a sympathetic look, still smiling but this time more.. warm. The kind of smile someone gives to another when they genuinely care for them. Or love them for that matter. He adored it, it was the same smile you'd give him when saying he needs to take a break, the same smile you give him when the two of you out to get coffee and catch up. The same smile he's fallen for many, many times. 

But to tell you the truth? It’s driving him crazy. All of this. Was driving him crazy. No matter how hard he tried to be professional, he could stop his wandering mind. You were a goddess. What else was there to do besides take a break and hopefully release some steam in the bathroom or something. Completely inappropriate, but the pain from being hard for so long was starting to cloud the best judgment. 

He looks down at the sketch so far, then back to you as he rubbed his hand upward against his face. It pushed his glasses up, causing them to be crooked when going back down. “I um.. I think I do.. need a minute.” His voice died out as he watched you slide the robe back on, words failing him because couldn’t think completely straight.

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

thank you @thecutestgrotto for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top pic!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[oharaslove]

We’ve always seen Grumpy x Sunshine when it comes to Miguel and Reader. Today I present you with Grumpy x Grumpy

Reader who never showed a smile towards anyone in the Society. 

Miguel who notices them in the group meetings. Every Spider has a sense of humour, they smile through the pain, but you didn’t. You were always with a serious expression. You were integrated, at the same time though, you seemed closed off. Not letting anyone come close. 

Miguel who takes interest. There is only one place for a Grumpy person in this lab, and that’s him. Or at least, most people say he is grumpy, not that he believes it 100%. 

Reader who enjoys spending time by themselves, recluding to the rooftop of the Society. A place that, weirdly enough, no one frequents. 

Miguel who looks for Reader in the common spaces, but doesn’t have luck. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted with you, but there was something pulling him towards your person. Did he want to be friends? Was he just curious? No idea.

Miguel who has to admit to Lyla what he is doing, having to accept her teases. “Oooohhh Miguel has got a crush” At which Miguel rolls his eyes. He doesn’t. He doesn’t even know you! How could he have a crush? he definitely has. If it were any other Spider, he would probably not care, but you. You had something. 

Lyla who, after an uncountable amount of mocking, takes pity on Miguel and reveals your location. Miguel who sees you through the security camera, sitting at the edge, dangling your feet. 

Miguel who marches towards your location. No plan in his head. He was just going with the flow. His body guiding him towards what it wanted. You

Reader who is startled by the sudden sound of someone opening the door to the rooftop. Who the hell comes here?. You turned around, spotting Miguel silently watching you from the doorway. You turn around again, rolling your eyes. Whatever. 

Miguel who approaches you. What the hell has he come here for? It’s been a looong minute since he has spoken to a woman, other than work stuff.

Miguel who just stands there, looking off at the distance, while keeping an eye on you from time to time. He was just testing the water, yeah. 

Reader who finds it weird, but let’s it happen. Miguel is the leader of the society after all. Besides, you knew (or at least heard) that he was “grumpy”. Problem, you didn’t know if he really was, or like you, he was misunderstood by everyone. In doubt, better keep quiet. 

Miguel who after a while, decides to go. That was embarrassing enough. But don’t get confused, he would come back, he just needed a plan. 

Miguel who, the first week, just stands there, getting comfortable with your presence, hoping you do too. Until….

“You know you can sit, right?” “Uh… I-” He stutters, not expecting you to talk. You scooch over, even though there is plenty of space. Miguel sits, rather close. He enjoys the view now, but most importantly, the heat emanating from your body. He sighs, step 1 down. 

Days turned into weeks. Now, you two were comfortable. Not talking much yet, but sitting next to each other, enjoying each other’s company while appreciating the skyline. Miguel hadn’t realised how much he needed this, relaxing. After a day being cooped up in the lab, this was a nice change. You would share food with each other, a lovely and quiet picnic between two friends? A boss and a worker? Co-workers? He had no clue, but whatever it was, he liked it. 

But… he wanted more. He felt the need to know you better. So.. that’s how the conversations started. About whatever, whoever… didn’t matter. What matter was that step 2 was down. 

Step 3 was by far the hardest one. Make you laugh. At least a small giggle or a smile, Miguel would be happy with either one. 

Granted, Miguel wasn’t good with jokes either. He didn’t know how the other Spiders did it. But thankfully, as a man of science, he knew how to achieve a goal. 

Miguel who spends quite some time observing the other Spiders. He never had a reason to, but now, he did. He thought that you would like it if he was funny, like the others. Yeah, surely, why wouldn’t you?

Miguel who writes some jokes and practises how to deliver them, over and over again. Lyla was having a blast. The big, “bad”, “grumpy” leader of the Spider Society, creator of Nueva York, was mad about another person. 

Miguel, nervous af, goes to your spot. After meeting for quite some time, you two developed a routine. Always at the same hour, same place. 

Reader who is already there, waiting. You really enjoyed meeting with Miguel, you felt he was the only one who understood you. 

Miguel who slowly approaches you. He could feel sweat dribble from his temple, down to his neck. 

Miguel checks the paper on his hand. Yeah, these jokes would do. 

Miguel who, after a peaceful chit chat, feels comfortable enough to start trying with the jokes. They were awful, to say the least. 

“How would you describe Spiderman’s perfect home? The world wide web!”

Miguel who after every stupid joke watches your reaction. At first, you are confused, but as jokes go by, he can see you trying hard not to smile. 

“What is–” “What are you doing?” you said, your lips tugging up into a smile. you were so adorable. “What do you mean?” “The jokes” you clarify, your smile widening. “I– I was trying to be funny, like the other Spidermen. People seem to like them. I–” “Don’t” you interrupt, your tone and expression serious. 

Miguel wanted to be swallowed by the Earth. He scrunches the paper and fists it. This was all a waste— “I like you just the way you are” You confess, making Miguel snap his head towards you, eyes wide like plates. 

“You– you do?” He must have misheard you. “Mhh” you mumbled, nodding. “Just,” you bite your lip, debating if you should say it or not. “Just be my Miguel. The one you’ve always been” And you smile as bright as the sun, warming Miguel’s hug. 

“Your Miguel” he repeats in a trance. You nod, biting your lip, trying to suppress the smile that had been printed on your face. Nothing could wipe it now. 

Miguel mirrors you, smiling from ear to ear. He looks at his clenched fist, the paper sticking out. He looks at you and laughs, throwing the paper into the city. “I’ll be your Miguel then” He scooches closer to you, giving you the opportunity to lean on his chest, as he rounds your body with his arm. 

“Yeah, my Miguel” you sighed, closing your eyes and melting into his touch. His warm body and heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

Miguel who kisses the top of your head, before resting his cheek against it. He sighs, step 3 and goal down. 

To the world, you were two Grumpy people. But between you, days were spent between laughs and giggles. Kisses being interrupted by smiles. Just seeing each other made you happy. Life was warm, yellow and red, all together. It didn’t matter how the rest saw you, just that you two were happy and in love. 

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Headcanons for Jennifer Check with an autistic S/O?

I love this idea so much- I took inspiration from some of my own experiences so this might not apply to everyone but I certainly did my best! I really hope you like it <3

Jennifer Check with an autistic s/o

Warnings: brief mention of meltdowns/sensory overloads, references to ableism/ignorant people, very brief (somewhat) joking mention of committing murder (it's Jenny, what do you expect), very salty and blunt language that I'm honestly not even sorry for

I honestly think Jennifer would appreciate dating an autistic person, especially if you're the type who's very straight forward or overly blunt about things

She probably thought you were a bit of a bitch at first I'm not gonna lie lol, but she makes that assumption about pretty much everyone when she first meets them

You'd seen each other around school before but your first real conversation was when you were paired up for some sort of science project. She was not looking or feeling like her typical hot and fabulous self, and while you weren't the first to notice you were the only one brave enough to point it out

"Have you been getting enough sleep recently? You have really heavy bags under your eyes"

Jennifer wanted to snap at you at first, thinking you were being sarcastic (because obviously she had bags under her eyes, she didn't need anyone pointing it out) but much to her surprise you didn't look like you were making fun of her. In fact, you seemed a little concerned

"Your hair looks pretty damaged." You continued, oblivious to the look of utter shock on her face that you would actually say something like that out loud. "If using both shampoo and conditioner is too much of a trouble I can recommend some two-in-one products. Or you can always use dry shampoo in between washes"

The woman was too stunned to speak. All she was able to do was mutter an awkward "thank you", something that you simply nodded your head at before turning the conversation back over to the project

She gained a lot of respect for you that day, as you were the only person who wasn't afraid to say what everyone was thinking (though she soon learned this was due to you not knowing what was and wasn't considered 'appropriate' to say)

Out of everyone, you're the one person Jennifer goes to (other than maybe Needy) when she needs an honest opinion on something because you won't lie to spare her feelings or try to flatter her

"Which tank top do you think I should wear to school tomorrow, the pink one or the black one?"

"Well, the pink one makes you look like slut. But the black one makes you look like both a slut and a bitch, too"

"Perfect. Black it is, then"

If you ever accidentally make a situation awkward or uncomfortable by your comments or questions you won't even have to worry about being embarrassed because she'll immediately come out with saying something so bitchy and/or vulgar that whatever you said looks innocent in comparison and is forgotten about right away

She'll get very protective if people try to purposely make you feel bad for the out of pocket things you say. After all, you're just telling people the truth, it's not their fault if they can't handle a dose of reality (her words, not mine)

Even though she loves to party she'll most likely either tone it down or just stop going altogether when she finds out you don't like them all that much because of the loud music, bright lights, small spaces crowded with lots of drunk people, etc. She'd rather be with you any way

Always lets you infodump to her about your newest interest or favorite thing, which truly shows just how much she loves you as she usually always has to be the one dominating any conversation she's a part of. Sometimes you wonder if she ever really listens until she gets you something relating to your latest hyperfixation and then you're like "ah okay so she does care :D"

Honestly she's such a trashy mcbling y2k girly (canon, she told me herself) that I feel like she's the type of person to buy you stim/fidget toys and then help you 'bling' them out by gluing on fake rhinestones and such because "you can't just walk around with boring accessories"

Is she the type of person to tease you/make a bunch of sex jokes if you have an oral fixation? Yes. Will she start carrying around lollipops, gum, chew rings, etc. in her purse to give to you when you're feeling distressed in a public place? Also yes

Totally understands if you don't like/can't eat certain foods due to pickiness, especially if this is after her demon possession. She goes out of her way to make sure the pantry is stocked with your safe foods and all your favorite snacks for whenever you come over so you won't run out of them

She may not be the best at comforting you if you're in the middle of a meltdown/sensory overload or if you start crying (especially if it's over something small) but she tries her best to be gentle, not wanting to accidentally make things worse. If you need physical comfort then she'll gladly let you wrap your arms around her and get as close as possible, but if not then she'll stay a safe distance away while trying to cheer you up with words of encouragement

Absolutely hates ableist people. Hates and will eat them /hj. She can't stand when people make you feel bad for not understanding certain phrases or not being able to pick up on social cues

If you're ever confused on something then she takes the time to explain it to you, and yes this includes her sarcasm. She can't stop being sarcastic for anyone, including you (sorry) but she can make accomadations so you don't feel stupid or left out

Jennifer finds your stimming so adorable, especially if you do it when you're excited to see her. The fact that you get so happy you have to make a physical show of it just to get the extra energy out warms her cold, otherwise unfeeling and bitchy heart

If you're a really physically affectionate person then she one hundred percent welcomes it and allows you to touch her at literally any given moment no matter where you are. If not, then that's all the more reason for her to feel special and loved if you ever do give her, say, a hug, especially if you have an aversion to touch

Speaking of which, if there are any clothes of hers that you don't like because the texture of it bothers you/makes your skin crawl then she simply won't wear them around you, and might even get rid of them so you can feel more comfortable touching her. This includes making sure her bed always has the coziest pillows and blankets and comfiest sheets for whenever you spend the night

Overall I think Jen would love you no matter what personality quirks you may have regarding being autistic, and she would never fail to tell you just how much she loves you for them

Main masterlist | Jennifer's Body masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

[thefluxsystem]

10 mindsets about my DID that have helped my system:

[This is solely for the sake of sharing experiences & supplying food for thought. This post is not implying these takes are the “right way” to view systemhood.]

1. We’re individuals and we’re parts of a whole. We see each other as people in our system, but in a different way than those in their own bodies. We share a brain. We share a life. I’m me, but I’m also him/her/them at the same time. If you take a piece out of a puzzle, it doesn’t cease to exist, right? It’s still its own object. It just doesn’t make much sense when it stands alone. We need each other to be truly complete.

2. Time keeps coming. I know it’s not an unlimited resource, but it’s not scarce either. Okay, so somebody in the system didn’t get to do what they planned today. They’ll do it tomorrow. No big deal. No need to fight about it or stress over “how I’ll ever manage all this”. We’ll simply give it another shot in the morning.

3. Reality is subjective. We’re a very philosophically-inclined system, and I could write books on what “reality is subjective” means. Basically, reality is based on perception. On a societal level, it is based in the common agreement of what something is. If anyone’s perception tests the limits of this common agreement, it is labeled as untrue. This ties into why DID is largely disbelieved; it doesn’t fit in with the common reality (perception) of the average person. So it is seen as fake. And, well, if I’m going to be told I’m wrong for the most basic, inherent part of this disorder… I don’t really care if they disagree with any other aspect of it. My reality is different. That’s okay.

4. There is no original. I strongly believe the Theory of Structural Dissociation. Maybe science will prove it wrong with a more suitable theory to take its place in the future, but it’s what I roll with at the moment. Now, to us, this translates as “there is no original/we were all the original”. We’re Adventure Time fans, so we think of it like the “Mother Gum”. If all of the Mother Gum broke off into people (like PB & Neddy), no specific one of them would be “the original”. Rather, they’d all be repurposed parts of the original whole. (In a less serious way, we like to say “we all came from the primordial personality soup”.)

5. Our body is shared equally. We’ve decided our body has its own identity & “look” that helps represent us as a whole, but doesn’t take after one member specifically. In a gnawingly self-aware way, I know this is a further form of dissociation. But adopting this view changed a lot for us in a positive way. We don’t fight about hair or clothes anymore, we don’t have discomfort around our legal name, we don’t even really have struggles with gender/sexuality anymore. (We identify differently internally, but externally we identify as nonbinary & bisexual. Even if the person fronting at the moment is, for example, a gay man.)

6. Be open-minded to what happens internally. Seems straightforward enough, but we’ve wasted a lot of time trying to “make rules” for each other in the system. The biggest example I can think of is in-system dating. Around 10 years ago, as we became more aware of each other, it became clear that two system members were basically in love. We immediately became defensive. We told them that they couldn’t do that, that two system members being together was absurd & “impossible”. (This view became stronger after discovering online system spaces & “fakeclaimers” that come with it.) Though we regret it now, we shamed those two a lot in the hopes they’d drop it. They didn’t. About 3 years later it became an actual problem. They didn’t trust us; they were fronting & we were coming back to absolutely no memory of it (we usually have a vague idea at least). Eventually, they wrote us a whole thing about how they were going to be together & there was really nothing anyone could do about it, seeing as we couldn’t technically keep them apart. In modern day, we’ve had an in-system couple recently fuse. Upon reflection, we were standing in the way of genuine healing by trying to break up the first two, and we did so solely out of shame. As long as it isn’t genuinely causing harm, we try to be accepting of each other these days. This applies to a lot of other aspects; how system members appear internally, the pronouns and/or identity labels they choose, anything to do with how system members engage with each other, our differing individual perceptions of an event, etc.

7. We don’t have to like each other, but we do have to love each other. Mostly because, if we don’t, we’re holding hatred for ourself. There are certainly members of my system I would never choose to befriend if we were actually separate people, but we’re not, and we don’t get to act like we are. So even though it’s hard, I’m learning to love every piece that makes up “me”, no matter how difficult they try to make it at times.

8. Nobody’s system works like mine except for mine. Meaning, no two systems are going to be alike, and experiences aren’t often going to translate perfectly. This is true for people who aren’t systems as well— everyone’s experience is going to be different, because nobody is wired exactly the same way. Once I took that to heart, it became easier to focus on my own way of being. I could take the pieces of represented/online systemhood that resonate with me & leave the rest (which probably resonates with someone else).

9. There’s a reason for everything. This kind of ties back into the ‘we have to love each other’ thing. Each component of the system is a clue regarding how to move forward. We had someone in the system getting really uptight & controlling, to a point that it was irritating, but, taking a step back, we recognized it was a response to feeling a lack of control. Instead of simply getting angry at him for how he was acting, we were able to address the problem. My collective self is more laid-back for it.

10. It’s okay not to focus on it all. DID is a part of my life for the rest of it, whether I like it or not, but it’s nice to let it be a background thing every once in a while. Who’s fronting? Who cares. What roles do we have? I don’t know. Who’s this new person in my head? I’ll figure it out later. We’re making it through as a team, and sometimes that’s enough.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi all! Thank you very much for all of your hard work. I've glad for this account since there is always something fun to read popping up. Can the Mods recommend any fics where either Aziraphale or Crowley use dating apps for any reason?

Hello. You'll find fics like this, including some of the fics listed here, on our #social media tag, but here are some dating app specific fics...

Bloggers, Baby! by Estrella3791 (T)

Crowley's a blogger, and he may or may not be developing a crush on his commenters. But he's not really - Oh, what's this? Angel1941 is on Tinder??

Oh, Lord, Heal This Love by WaitingToBeBroken (T)

"Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other," is what Crowley's dating profile says. Too bad Aziraphale was too busy staring at those graceful fingers in his picture to realise that, before he agreed to go on a date with him.

abide by me by cosmya (T)

The year is 2001. Crowley runs a fake marriage website, and Aziraphale has encountered a... problem that requires his services. Naturally, they have No Idea that it's each other at first, but when Aziraphale proves a difficult client, Crowley takes matters into his own hands.

Dim the Lights and Sing You Songs by Polaris (E)

A few months prior to leaving the Dowling household, Crowley had downloaded Grindr for the sole purpose of catfishing randy morons. He was not expecting a paragraph that began with: ‘hello. I hope you don’t think this is too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice you have the most lovely nipples.’ Crowley keeps trying to meet his Grindr fuckbuddy. Aziraphale keeps showing up at all his meeting spots. This is terrible.

MatchMade! by amaruuk (E)

Crowley tests a new dating app for an online publication. When his match dumps him for another man's match, he and his fellow dumpee take a chance on each other.

With Potential by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale is an author of popular and successful romance novels. His books have done very well, so he's surprised when his publisher, Gabriel, comes in and tells him that they expect him to start including explicit sex scenes instead of just the fade-to-black he's been writing. Aziraphale argues a bit, but it's pointless. Gabriel isn't asking, he's telling. And now Aziraphale is in a pickle. He doesn't have a wide swath of sexual experience to pull inspiration from. So his assistant, Anathema, helpfully suggests that he download some dating apps and seek someone to hook up with for casual sex. Aziraphale is appalled by the idea of casual sex at first, and thinks that this plan is going to go absolutely nowhere, but agrees to give it a try. Three guesses what happens next.

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It by indieninja92 (E)

After the Apocalypse, Aziraphale ventures into a new space in the gay milieu - Grindr. There he starts talking to a charming young man who certainly doesn't bear any resemblance at all to a certain long streak of demon, not one bit, no thank you. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their friendship after the world failed to end. There is much drinking and silliness, but could it be that there are other feelings lurking underneath?? Of course there are, this is fanfic.

The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh, D20Owlbear (M)

Aziraphale, 3rd year doctoral candidate in Library Sciences and current failure at Astronomy 101, finds out about an app for meeting people from some undergraduates. He’s desperate for a tutor so he decides to try it out. Surely someone in the wilds of Tinder is willing to help him learn about the stars? Meanwhile, in said wilds of Tinder, Crowley (high school dropout, star enthusiast, and official garden center plant-harasser) is not really looking for anything past dinner and maybe ‘tea’ back at their place. Hijinks, and also a surprisingly intricate plot, ensue.

- Mod D

[taeyongdoyoung]

point of view

summary: you sneak into your ex-boyfriend's ship with the desperate hope to save your Jedi friends. but you discover more than you bargained for... pairing: seonghwa x reader x chan genre: space opera, romance (?), science fiction, fantasy warnings: morally grey characters, mentions of past crimes (unspecified but we're talking Anakin Skywalker level of crimes), betrayal, cheating (?), kissing, crying, just overall Star Wars setting with no clear-cut boundaries between good and evil author's note: the events are loosely based on certain scenes in Revenge of the Sith and the title is inspired by Ariana Grande's pov word count: 2.3k

The lightsaber glows brighter as you near your destination. All along, you knew it was a bad idea to infiltrate Darth Mars's ship all by yourself. But you have no choice. If you do not confront him yourself, you are afraid that your Jedi friends will be in danger.

Considering your history with Darth Mars, a small part of you still believes that you hold some kind of power over him. He is the one who taught you everything you know now about being a Jedi. He is the one who taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself and how to look after the ones you care about.

So, when he turned to the Dark Side, it was not only your heart that was broken, but also your trust. In him and in everything he stood for. He was the chosen one, for Force's sake...You have to admit, you miss him more than anything. You miss the man he used to be. You even miss your past self. The one who was not haunted by the consequences of his betrayal. The one who still had hopes for a better future for the Galaxy.

"Very foolish of you to come alone," Darth Mars, or should you say, Seonghwa, says, appearing from the shadows.

Bravely, you point the lightsaber at him.

"I taught you better than that," he scoffs.

"Have you?" you attempt to taunt him, because you know your fighting skills are nowhere near his supreme excellency. You can only use your mind and your tongue as a weapon.

"Did you come here to kill me?" Seonghwa chuckles lightly. "Go ahead, then. I don't intend to fight you, of all people."

"I have no intention of killing you."

"Pity. I was beginning to grow tired of it all. Even so, it wouldn't be in your style to kill me while I was defenseless. It wouldn't be honourable," Seonghwa spits the last word out as if it's dirty.

"What do you know about honour? You betrayed us, turning to the Dark Side. And for what? More power? What did you do that for? You left us, Hwa!"

"That's not my name," Seonghwa shakes his head in denial, still hiding beneath that mask. You feel so sad. You wish you could make him see...See how much he hurt you. See you.

You let go of your lightsaber, pulling his mask off.

Oh. His face is not like you remember. Filled with scars and burns and so much pain, as if reflecting the way he changed. Not just on the inside but on the outside, as well. No, you refuse to believe that. Some part of him is still your Seonghwa, the one you fell in love with. The one, that despite everything, you still love.

"Who did this to you?" you ask softly.

"Who do you think? My Master..."

"No, Chan would never...He loved you," you argue.

Chan is the Jedi who taught Seonghwa everything. Just like how Seonghwa taught you, the relationship between Master and Padawan is so special and sacred. But you cannot imagine that Chan would do something like that to Seonghwa.

"Fine, I did it to myself," Seonghwa shrugs. "We had a fight over our...differences. Things escalated and...well, let's just say a planet filled with lava is not a good place for exchanging blows."

You shake your head, still in desbelief. How could this go so far? How did you let it?

"Don't beat yourself up," Seonghwa grins darkly. "This would have happened with or without you."

"I never looked at Chan that way, you know? Not while I was with you, anyway."

"But you do now," Seonghwa states. Not really blaming you, just stating a fact.

"I do," you admit. "But I never stopped thinking about you."

"Not even after everything I did?" Seonghwa murmurs and is that...regret in his voice? You are unsure if he's still capable of that. Or any feeling for that matter.

"Not even then," you sigh.

"Why did you come here, Y/N?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"I came to beg you not to kill my Jedi friends. Leave Chan and the others alone. I would do anything you want. Just let them be."

"Would you stay with me?" Seonghwa tilts his head and in that moment, it's like you're back to when it all started. Deep down, he's still just a boy, desperate to be loved.

"I said anything, didn't I?" you insist. If this means never seeing your Jedi friends again, so be it. At least, they would be safe...Or that's how you delude yourself.

"Very well, then. I won't touch them provided that you don't go back on your word," Seonghwa promises.

You cannot believe it worked. You cannot believe he still cares about you enough to accept this. You never found out why he turned to the Dark Side. Seonghwa was never one to be blindly tempted by power. No, there must have been something else.

"If you wanted to be with me so badly, why did you betray us, then?" you can't go another second without knowing.

"What's the use in telling you?" Seonghwa replies sadly, turning away from you. No, no, he's shutting himself off again. Just as he was beginning to open up...

You grab his wrist as if possessed, forcing him to face you again.

"Please, tell me. I want to understand you," you plead with him.

"You died. You died in my arms and accepting the Sith way was the only way to bring you back to life. If there was another solution, I wouldn't have done this, I wouldn't have left."

"W-what?" you are shaking, not capable of accepting the truth. "I was d-dead?! How did I not know that? How did nobody know?"

"Chan knew," Seonghwa grunts angrily and puts on his mask again. "He insisted on hiding the truth from you. He was certain that if you found out, you'd follow me to the Dark Side...And he couldn't let that happen. Said you have too much potential as a Jedi."

No, no, this can't be right. Truths and lies become blurred in your head as you struggle to decide what to think. Who to trust? Seonghwa? Chan? Yourself? You cannot tell what is real and what is false anymore.

"You don't believe me," Seonghwa guesses correctly. "That's alright. You can ask Chan yourself," Seonghwa tilts his chin forward, as if pointing to something, someone behind you.

In that moment, a bunch of Stormtroopers lead Chan into the room.

"What should we do with this intruder, Lord Mars?" the Stormtroopers ask.

"Leave him here with my other prisoner. I shall question them myself," Seonghwa replies, appearing disinterested. Oh, so you're a prisoner now? Even though you voluntarily offered to stay with him provided that your Jedi friends are safe. You feel so foolish all of a sudden.

The Stormtroopers accept Seonghwa's orders rightaway, leaving the the three of you alone.

"I'll give you two a moment," Seonghwa shrugs carelessly, locking you in the same room with Chan.

For a brief second, you wonder if he did the wise thing. But then you remember, getting on his ship was easy. Getting out? Sounds like an impossible ordeal.

"Chan, what are you doing here?" you ask furiously.

"What does it look like?" Chan replies. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Yeah, and how is that working out for you?" you hiss bitterly. "Now, we're both stuck here instead of just me."

"Did you seriously think I'd let you face him alone?"

"I told you I can handle myself!" you argue passionately. "You always do this. You don't trust me, do you?"

"It's not you I don't trust, it's him around you," Chan cries out in pain.

"Well, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore," you confess.

Chan shrieks back, as if stricken by your words.

"Is it true that I died? Is it true that you knew I died and you kept it a secret from me?" you want to know.

"Listen, I don't know what lies Seonghwa told you but he would have turned to the Dark Side with or without you."

"Funny, I never mentioned that's the reason he went all Sith. You just confirmed it yourself."

Chan gulps nervously, realizing his own mistake.

"How could you, Chan?" you shake your head in disappointment. "I thought you'd never lie to me."

"I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" your eyes widen in disbelief. "From what exactly? 'Cause it seems to me that Seonghwa was the one protecting me."

"And it was wrong! He committed all these terrible crimes just to bring you back. He turned on all his Jedi friends. He turned on me!"

"So, you're saying you'd rather I stayed dead? Is that it?"

"Don't twist my words," Chan closes his eyes, pained to have this conversation.

"You have done that yourself," you murmur, feeling tired all of a sudden and go to the door, knocking as loudly as you can. "I can't stay in the same room with the other prisoner!"

Expecting the Stormtroopers to show up and move you somewhere else, you are taken aback when Seonghwa...well, he's currently looking more Darth Mars, opens the door himself.

"And here I thought I was doing you two lovebirds a favour," he jokes.

"Get me out of here," you respond angrily.

"You're in no position to be giving me orders, sweetheart," Seonghwa chuckles gently. You want to kill him. Or kiss him. You don't know anymore. Everything is so confusing. It hurts so much...

"Get me out of here, please?" you try again, knowing it will infuriate Chan. Oh, how he wishes it was him you were begging. To run away with him suddenly sounds even more imprudent than staying with a Sith Lord.

"Much better," Seonghwa acquiesces, takes you by the arm and leads you somewhere else.

"You'll regret this," Chan warns.

"You'll regret me more," you whisper.

To your further shock, Seonghwa takes you to his chambers. You are uncertain whether he trusts you that much or he's simply confident enough that you won't be able to try anything funny. To be completely honest with yourself, even if you did try something, you would never be able to defeat Seonghwa by yourself. Then again, examples of Padawans beating their Masters are not unheard of...But you are definitely not ready for such a confrontation. Not yet, anyhow.

Not only did you learn that Seonghwa turned to the Dark Side in order to save your life, but you also just discovered that Chan kept that a secret from you. And if Chan knew, then there was a huge chance other Jedi also found out the truth. Chan was never good at keeping secrets from the Jedi. But he seems to be great at lying to you. Thus, everything you ever believed in is put into question. What is right or wrong? What is true or false? What is good or bad? These notions seem so ridiculous to you now that you have no clue what you intend to do next. You can only hope that Seonghwa's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You can only hope to live long enough to find answers for yourself.

"He told you the truth, didn't he?" Seonghwa makes yet another correct guess.

"I tricked him into it," you smirk, somewhat proud of yourself.

"That's my girl," Seonghwa nudges your shoulder playfully.

"What do I do now?" you burst into tears, burying your head in his chest. "Everything I believed in is in shambles. I don't even know if I wanna be a Jedi anymore."

"That's alright. You can always join me."

"Join the Dark Side?" you eye him suspiciously.

"Dark, Light...isn't it all the same?" Seonghwa tilts his head to the side. You hate it, but he has a point.

"Do I even have a choice? You said I'm your prisoner..."

"There's always a choice," Seonghwa insists. "And maybe I'm your prisoner. Did you ever think about that?"

You take off his mask again. He looks away, as if embarrassed.

"Don't hide from me," you beg, placing a hand on his scarred cheek, making him look at you.

"I know I'm not as pretty I used to be..."

"Well, then it's a good thing I didn't fall for your pretty. I like your ugly, too. Wish you could see yourself from my point of view," you insist and kiss him, trying to convey all the mixed up feelings you're experiencing.

Maybe he saved you. Maybe he destroyed himself in the process. Maybe he has the power to destroy you, too. You don't care. Right or wrong, this is where you belong now.

"What do you want me to do with Chan?" Seonghwa asks after a while.

"Are you seriously saying you'd do whatever I asked of you?" you are still shocked to learn how much power you have over him...He may have full control of the Force, but right now, you have full control of him.

"Within limits," Seonghwa replies vaguely.

"Let him live," you reply cleverly. Despite everything that went down, you still care about Chan. Just as how you care about Seonghwa. Your feelings might be irrational. But they're yours. "He might be useful to you one day. Who knows? He might learn to see things from where we stand."

"We? And where would that be?"

"Like you said, Dark, Light...What difference does it make?" you smile at him.

"Hm. I knew you'd get it," Seonghwa embraces you, thinking you're joining his so-called Dark Side.

But there is no such thing. You're on your own side now. And after being lied to and betrayed to by those you considered your closest people, you realize the most important thing. In this Galaxy, you can only trust yourself.

And one day, just like how Seonghwa became stronger than his Master Chan, you are certain you will become stronger than Seonghwa. They both underestimate your power.

It will be their final mistake.

The End

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Devil's night [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: Spencer is excited about his Halloween plans and you join him.

Directly based on episode 6x06, because I felt so bad about how the team behaves with Spencer that I needed to do something

“I see someone’s feeling spooky today,” Morgan smiled, looking you up and down.

You were wearing a cardigan knitted with various prints related to the time of year; pumpkins, ghosts, black cats, and candy corn, over a bright purple skirt and tall boots. Normally you would dress more formally due to the implied dress code the FBI operated under, but it was the weekend and Halloween was around the corner, so you could skip a suit day to wear one of those many scary-related items you had. After all, Halloween was your favorite holiday of the year. It was fun for everyone when you were a child, but as you grew up, your love for said celebration became a little weirder for others, so when you became an adult, you didn't think anyone shared such excitement about the date. Well, that is until you met Spencer Reid.

“It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treating, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity” you heard him say, as he walked in with an already quite annoyed Emily Prentiss.

You knew that sometimes Spencer talked too much, but you hated that the rest of your coworkers got upset like that when he was talking about something that he was passionate about. Now the subject was, clearly, the next date.

"All I asked was what he was doing this weekend" she complained to Rossi. Spencer ignored her and continued with his cathedra as he settled into the empty space next to you.

“I'm toying with the notion of either going to the Edgar Allan Poe Shadow Puppet theater or the re-enactment of the XIX century Phantasmagoria,” he said and your heart did a little skip. You and Reid had argued on a few occasions, outside of work, about Poe’s works and although you didn't know what the second thing he had mentioned was, it sounded very interesting.

“What is a Phantasmagoria?” you asked nicely and when your partner noticed your presence he smiled widely, as if he was just noticing you in the room. The others all pouted in anticipation of the explanation to come and you hoped Spencer hadn't noticed.

“Phantasmagorias are these amazing pre-cinema projected ghost shows invented in France, where the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic” he explained to you, while he took a seat and waved his hands from side to side. You were completely unaware of the term so you slightly parted your lips in astonishment.

"Sounds interesting"

"I have an extra ticket, do you want to come with me?" he asked you, almost immediately, with the biggest smile of all. Honestly, the invitation took you by surprise, especially who was asking, and Spencer seemed to see it on your face. “I mean, if you don't have plans this weekend. You can say no if you want."

“I'd really love to,” you exclaimed, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea, and watched his eyes sparkle with joy as he nodded.

The others wanted to make fun of it a bit, but Garcia didn't give them time to when she handed you the case files. When Hotch told you that you were going to fly to Detroit, your partner complained loudly and his gaze inevitably went to you, since you were supposed to have made plans together literally three minutes ago, but knowing that the unsub only attacked during these three days of the year. You had no choice but to accept your fate. You have never gone from feeling completely happy to being so disappointed in such a short time.

"I guess you better forget what I just told you," Reid sighed, as you left the conference room.

"Maybe we'll make it on time, when is the show?"

"This Sunday. The puppet theater is at 9:00 pm, the last Phantasmagoria show is at 11:00 pm. None are sold out yet"

"If we get back in time enough, I'll accompany you both, what do you say?" you muttered, trying to be as positive as possible, as you took your friend's arm with both hands and gave it a friendly squeeze. Spencer was taller than you, but thanks to the boots you were wearing and the extra inches they gave you, your eyes were almost at the level of his “Don't be discouraged.”

"I like your clothes today," he suddenly murmured. Sometimes he would give you those kinds of sweet compliments, perhaps as thanks for the kindness with which you always treated him, and you would almost always blush "The drawings are beautiful. Do you know why pumpkins became so representative?"

"Jack-o'-lantern," you replied, rather proud of yourself for knowing the answer.

"But did you know that in the original story it wasn't a pumpkin but a turnip?" he said and you were silent. But he didn't make fun of you for it, instead he saw a new opportunity to impress you "Yeah, you see, in the original legend Stingy Jack..."

The rest of the team, who was in front of you, shared knowing looks as if they were pitying you for having activated the doctor's rambling mode, but the truth was that you were fascinated with every word that came out of his mouth. Sometimes you couldn't believe how there was someone as intelligent in the world as your cute companion and as he spoke you prayed, perhaps with all your might, that you could catch the unsub in time to be able to fulfill the plans in the ones he had included for the weekend.

Almost as if by divine handiwork, the case was solved just in time for the plane to land and you two to rush home to get dressed for the theater. Hotch was even sympathetic to you and told you that the paperwork could wait for Monday just because he had heard of your plans, which you were immensely grateful for.

Spencer was happy that you agreed to go out with him, especially since the idea of asking you out was completely impulsive. It was true that he had an extra ticket but he never thought of having the courage to ask you to accompany him, much less did he think that you would be interested in it, since he was regularly ignored by his colleagues at work. It was something he had never discussed with anyone, only his beloved and gone Elle, but it haunted him almost every day.

Luckily for him, Spencer had prepared the wardrobe he wanted to wear in advance, and all he had to do was take a warm shower, shave, and put on some cream and cologne to get ready. In addition to, of course, styling his short hair as best he could.

He felt particularly concerned by his appearance that night and he pondered whether you would think he looked silly wearing a 19th century French suit. He had bought it last month and it was stored with his costume collection, which no one on the team knew about yet and he didn't intend for that to change.

He had offered to pick you up and when he got to your building, he felt strangely nervous. The doorman was a kind older man that he had seen a couple of times, so when he said that he was looking for you, the man called you on the phone to let you know.

They were silent for a few moments and he began to rock on his heels to kill some time.

“Will you take her trick-or-treating?” the doorman, Tony, joked. Spencer didn't take it the wrong way, instead he laughed it off.

"It's not the plan, but if someone takes pity on us and gives us some I won't complain" he replied and now it was the employee's turn to laugh.

"I've seen you before, are you her boyfriend?"

“Coworkers,” Spencer clarified, with a smile.

"Ah, so you're also a policeman?" although it wasn't the proper term, Spencer didn't know if you had hidden your real job for personal reasons, so he held back from explaining to the man that you were actually a profiler.

"Yes, something like that"

Tony wanted to ask more questions, but the sound of the elevator caught the attention of both men and revealed your figure.

"No fucking way," you breathed, looking your friend up and down and if he hadn't gone dumbfounded, he probably would have said the same thing "Look at you!"

"Where did you get that?" he asked in amazement. Although Spencer had thought that you would show up in a costume, he hadn't expected to see you like this. 

"You don’t like it?"

"No, I love it" he hastened to say, when he heard the insecurity in your voice "It's just… I didn't expect to see you as a 19th-century French lady"

You were wearing a beautiful black dress with lace details that obviously alluded to the fashion of the time, black satin gloves, plus a discreet hat on your well-groomed hair and boots that Reid had seen before, but they made a great combination with the outfit. The man's surprise was because he had invited you with such short notice and yet you had gotten the perfect costume and not only that, but one that conveniently matched his.

“And I didn't expect to see you as a French gentleman either” you laughed, as you reached out to wrap him in a hug "I guess it was pure fate"

“Or the fact that we are going to see a recreation of a 19th-century show. Our brains thought the same thing.”

“It doesn't sound so charming when you say it like that" you complained amused and he realized it was true "Shall we go? I don’t want to be late"

Spencer nodded and immediately offered you his arm to hold onto as you walked, a gesture that made you believe you were really entering a time tunnel.

“Enjoy your night”

"Thanks, Tony! Don't scare too many kids and don't eat too much candy,” you waved, blowing him a kiss as you followed Spencer out the door.

He guided you to his car and opened the passenger door for you and then he got in himself to start the engine and get going.

"I really can't believe that we got a couple's costume by pure coincidence"

“Couple costume?”

“Yes, they are those costumes of the same theme that you use with a couple. You know, like the people who dress up as Fred and Daphne or Morticia and Gomez”

Spencer didn't know the last couple, but he did have a vague recollection that the first ones mentioned were from Scooby Doo due to the cartoons he came from as a child.

"Oh" he sighed "Yes, get it”

“Honestly this was a last-minute thing. My downstairs neighbor studies theater and we are good friends, so I asked her if she had anything in her curiosities bag that could help me and she pulled out this dress. It was enough to adjust it a little" you told him, putting both hands on the neck of your dress and smiling from ear to ear "I couldn't believe it, it was really a stroke of luck”

"It looks so pretty on you," he said suddenly, looking away from the road just for a moment to check that you had heard him. "I don't think I told you when I saw you, but that's what I thought."

"Thank you then," you smiled, feeling your cheeks warm a little.

Spencer started talking to you about the creation of puppet theaters and, of course, the Poe stories you were going to witness, with you interrupting him only to point out some decoration along the way that you thought was cute. On Halloween you almost always preferred to stay at home to watch horror movies or go down to the hall to distribute candy to the youngest children, with very discreet costumes to avoid the evil looks of adults. But now you were excited to be doing this with Spencer, who was maybe the only person you knew who wouldn't make fun of you under any circumstances. Your relationship was based on a certain complicity, perhaps more than you had with any member of your unit.

Arriving at the site, he reopened your door and offered you his hand to help you down, which you took without complaining. Once you were outside, he repeated the gesture from when he picked you up from your building and in this way you walked to the entrance, where a woman disguised as who you assumed was Berenice (a Poe character) sold you a couple of tickets.

It was a lovely show and when you weren't looking at the puppets you took the time to admire your companion, whose eyes revealed the emotion of a child. You never thought the doctor was fond of a thing like this and now that you had discovered it you found it quite adorable. As you left you asked him if he was a Muppets fan by any chance and, to your surprise, he was. Spencer even told you that he had a couple of Kermit the Frog items that his mom bought him when he was little, but he also told you not to tell anyone or he'd be embarrassed and you pinky promised him.

You still had an hour between the two shows so you decided to go to a nearby park where there were lots of food stalls: candy apples, popcorn, candy, lemonade, and you even got to one where a Hispanic woman offered you pieces of candied pumpkin. You had to take off your gloves (which he kept carefully in his jacket) when you bought a few pieces of this last one for the two of you and when you tried it you agreed that it was delicious. The woman told you that in Mexico, her country of origin, she always served them to her children with a glass of milk.

Spencer spared no expense just to fulfill all your cravings, even though you refused, so when you got in the car to go to the Phantasmagoria your stomach was pretty full. The place where it would take place was a gray tent in the open air, with a dais in front and several wooden benches arranged so that enough people could fit in. As you had arrived with some time, you took a seat on a bench in the second row and waited patiently for the show to start.

Suddenly all the lights around you went out, leaving only the ones pointing to the front of the stage, and a presenter dressed as a magician appeared.

“For many centuries, wandering spirits have inhabited the world unseen by the human eye, always confined to the world of shadows…” his voice was mesmerizing and kept you on the edge of your seat, watching him carefully “but for a certain time of the year, their magic grows and they are able to cross the barrier that separates us…”

The entire tent was filled with smoke and the audience, including you, looked around trying to figure out what would happen. The presenter continued giving his gloomy monologue and, although you didn’t imagine how, you even felt that the temperature decreased a little with each word he said. Suddenly even the lights that were pointed at him began to dim and by the time he finished explaining to you the whole place was in complete darkness.

There was silence for a moment to build tension and then there was an explosion that made you jump in place. To tell you the truth, you didn't expect much from the show, you thought that being a recreation it would have many shortcomings, but when the first figure appeared on the roof your heart skipped a beat.

You weren't a scared person under normal circumstances and your resistance to the horrifying images you saw at work on a daily basis shows this, but this time perhaps all the environmental components of that night were what made you feel that way. A loud laugh resounded and then another pair of specters appeared, this time flying at the height of the audience and even passing through some of you.

Spencer's reaction was nothing like the rest. Despite his fear of the dark he was totally fascinated by all the images, his mind already working to decipher the magic trick that was being performed. What finally got his breath caught was the feel of your hand searching his. He was still shielding your gloves so he could feel the cool temperature of your fingers, as opposed to how warm he was in comparison. Even knowing that doing that was a reflex act due to fear, he stopped paying attention to the show to look at your hand on top of his, with that noticeable difference in size.

Just as you had admired him during the puppet show, he took the time to observe your expressions now. Your face lit up from time to time by the illusions around you and every time you startled you squeezed his hand harder, in addition to adjusting your body against his as if you were looking for some kind of protection. Spencer had gone out with friends many times and of course with the rest of his female colleagues at work, however none of them had behaved like you were doing. He wasn’t bothered by your behavior, but rather intrigued, since you seemed quite comfortable taking refuge in him to feel safe. Although he knew how to identify qualities in people, he sometimes had a hard time crossing the line of identifying them to really admire them. When he thought of JJ, he thought of a charismatic woman. When he thought of Emily, he thought of intelligence. And when he thought of Penelope, he always saw joy and optimism. But when he thought of you, there were too many qualities to focus on just one: he thought of kindness, calmness, creativity, wit, beauty, empathy... what a big heart you had and how at the end of the day you were perhaps the only one who could make him smile. When he invited you to join him, he did it because he knew you had the same feeling towards scary things, but now that you were there, looking so pretty and holding his hand tightly, he thought maybe there was something else going on between you. You were the closest thing he had to a best friend, though he had never said so verbally, and that night he wanted to be nowhere else but by your side.

Only when the lights came back on did he realize that the spectacle had been forgotten to him, since the whole time he had been looking at you.

“That was all for today, my friends. Thank you for these wonderful performances and remember to recommend us to your friends the next time we're in town. Have a spooky night, all of you."

“I can't believe it, did you see all that? It was just awesome! I didn't think it was going to be this good” you said, completely excited, as you turned in his direction. Apparently you weren't even aware that your hands were clasped until he got up from the seat and helped you imitate him with that grip. Though you thought of apologizing for that, you didn't, fearing to embarrass yourself further.

“It was amazing, even for me it was hard to figure out the trick”

“Why do you want to figure it out? admit it's only magic, doctor. Sometimes life is” you laughed, grabbing his arm for the third time like a happy wife would her husband.

You are something magical, he thought, with the words on the tip of his tongue, but not daring to say them to you. 

Although the night was late, the movement in the streets was still the same and Spencer considered asking if you wanted to go somewhere else, but the yawn that escaped you made him think that the best thing for both of us would be to go home to rest. After all, the case had exhausted you.

"Back to your house, right?" he asked, just to be sure and you nodded with a smile.

The road wasn’t long, you only had to take care of the naughty at night so as not to receive any damage, so when you least expected it, you were already in front of your building. Although you intended to say goodbye, Spencer told you that he would accompany you to the door of your apartment just to make sure that you arrived completely safely, because he knew better than anyone how much could happen to a woman alone, even if it was such a short journey, and he didn't want to risk you. Tony was still awake and greeted you nicely as you walked in, so you could then get on the elevator and press the necessary button.

“I seriously have no words to thank you for today, Spencer. Except for that one time I ended up in the hospital for eating so much candy, this has been my best Halloween ever,” you admitted with a laugh, as you leaned in for a big hug.

"Thank you for accompanying me. I'm really glad you had fun, because I had a great time too”

There was a dead space between you, in which you just looked at each other with a smile. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that the night had been wonderful and maybe it was just that you two were trying to drag it out as long as possible.

“Spencer”

"Yeah?"

"Before you go, can I ask you something?"

"Whatever" he responded immediately. He got a little nervous thinking that he wouldn't be able to satisfy your curiosity by ignoring the topic you were going to ask him about and hoped that wasn't the case.

You waited another second before speaking.

"How frowned upon do you think it was for 1800s society for a woman to steal a kiss from her companion?"

Spencer's eyes danced a little in his sockets and you thought he was processing your request in disguise, until he looked at you again and spoke with complete assurance:

“Very frowned upon, surely. At that time, it was usual for men to court women, who were very repressed from making their own decisions or living their sexuality as they pleased. A woman who kissed a man was considered indecent."

You wanted to correct him, tease him or, as a last resort, simply pull him by his shirt and plant the kiss you had wanted to give him all the way. But you didn't do any of that, you just laughed softly and enjoyed his smirk for telling you the right answer.

“I was afraid of that. It's good to know” said this, you carefully approached him and placed a small kiss on his cheek, seeing him slightly surprised by the act “See you tomorrow at work. Call me when you get home”

"I will do that. Rest and see you later"

"Bye”

Just as he said, he called you a few minutes later to announce that he had arrived at his destination so you could sleep peacefully.

Spencer didn't realize that you had explicitly asked for a kiss until Morgan told him and while his friend laughed, he felt like the luckiest guy of all and, at the same time, the dumbest.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14

[in1-nutshell]

I am once again humbly asking for more Brainstorm.

Brainstorm with a human buddy that, while not the most scientifically inclined, is very chaotic and excitable and is just a pure enabler for his bullshit.

Like Brainstorm will just be going on about his latest invention, and Buddy will just be sitting there listening to him, not really understanding what he's saying but they heard the words explosive, so they're on board.

dealers choice for platonic or romantic, i just want to see more of this funky little man

Hello again! It's nice to see people appreciate this mad scientist. I know Buddy surely appreciates his more explosive weapons.

Hope you enjoy!

Brainstorm and Human Buddy who loves explosives

SFW, platonic, mentions explosions, Human reader

MTMTE

Ever since they met, Buddy had been drawn to Brainstorm.

They couldn't tell you when their friendship started. Brainstorm couldn't tell you either.

But Ultra Mangus can tell the exact moment when his processor ache started.

Buddy and Brainstorm start clicking.

Ultra Magnus in his office.

"Someone is thinking about shenanigans..."--Magnus

It's no secret to everyone on board that Buddy loves explosives. The crew found out about it during the Pepper spray Incident.

An incident consisting of Pepper spray, pepper, a battery, engex, and Whirl.

That was also the day Whirl swears he found his soulmate. Or a good friend. He still doesn't know yet.

Brainstorm quickly figures out that Buddy isn't as scientifically inclined as he is. But then again not many bots are, besides Perceptor of course.

"Hey Brainstorm..."--Buddy

"What is it?"--Brainstorm

"In the hypothetical situation, I managed to set a binary gun on fire from the inside. What would happen if I put water on it?"--Buddy

"Well that a strange-wait you did what?! Where is it?!"--Brainstorm

"Oh it's right over there."--Buddy

"Why is it there!?"--Brainstorm

"I don't know I thought it was a good idea!"--Buddy

"How is putting it on the top shelf a good idea!? How did you even get up there?!"--Brainstorm

"I don't know!"--Buddy

Brainstorm does appreciate Buddy making an effort to understand his science rambles.

Does Buddy space out sometimes? Yes, they do.

Does Buddy try to contribute the conversation with zero understanding. Yes, they do and Brainstorm loves them for that.

Buddy wants to be in on any experiments that have explosives involved. Brainstorm, while he loves the enthusiasm, knows that Buddy shouldn't be around so much of it.

"Please, Percy! I want to see the cool experiment!"--Buddy

"I'm sorry Buddy but this one is simply too dangerous, especially for your organic nature can't withstand these conditions."--Perceptor

"Brainstorm?"--Buddy

"Percy's right Buddy. Your organic form can't handle this one."--Brainstorm

"Thank you Brainstorm."--Perceptor

"Which is why you need this exosuit to watch us do it!"--Brainstorm

"Yeah Brainstorm!"--Buddy

"No Brainstorm!"--Perceptor

If someone tries to give Buddy a hard time for not being intelligent enough, Brainstorm is ready and armed. No one is going to make his friend feel like a worthless intelligent slug, they are the ones who are the worthless unintelligent slugs!

"So you thought it was a good idea to go and tell Buddy that they were some dumb organic. Your words to be exact."--Brainstorm

"So? They are. All organic life forms are dumb and worthless.""--Random bot

" Oh I think my accomplice and I would disagree. Isn't that right Whirl?"--Brainstorm

Whirl with two blasters in his claws.

"You picked the wrong fleshy to mess with."--Whirl

Shoots Random bot in the knee.

"That's for messing with My Buddy!"--Whirl

"Your Buddy?"--Brainstorm

"I'm still working on it!"--Whirl

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Hi there. I was wondering if you could do a Spider-Man Ethan x fem!reader where the reader has feelings for Spider-Man and doesn’t know its her friend Ethan who she also grew up having a crush on. Every night the her and Spider-Man talk and hang out on the roof of her apartment. One of the nights there is so much tension that they end up doing the famous Spider-Man kiss. Feelings on both ends are confessed, but Ethan refuses to fully take off his mask. But then one night Spider-Man is extremely injured and loses a lot of blood. So the reader ends up patching him up and has to remove his mask to reveal that it’s her friend Ethan that she’s always had feelings for. Then it can end spicy from there with whatever you’re comfortable writing.

Thank you 😊

OMG! 🕸🕷 I love this idea - ugh, I'm gonna have so much fun writing this ahhhhhh hope you enjoy love 🌼

Two Hearts

Summary : You have a crush on your best friend Ethan- but growing close with Spiderman, and also sharing those same feelings leaves you confused. A rough night for Spiderman ends up revealing secrets.

||m.list

Word count: 3.0k

Warning: Angst, fluff, swearing, blood, mentions of death, slight NSFW.

I love how much music affects my writing. Listened to "hopeless romantic soft mix" while writing this. Made me kick my feet and giggle!! ALSO, THIS IS THE LONGEST FIC I HAVE WRITTEN ANNNDDD OH MY GOS I AM SO IN LOVE

There was a new superhero in town, and boy did that 'Spiderman' have all the girls' hearts. He sure had yours, but he will never be Ethan- Ethan was your best friend. He has been by your side since you could remember.

Any person that would see you together thought you were dating, but you weren't. The thought of telling Ethan you liked him - oh boy. That would be the last thing you would do. HE GIVES YOU BUTTERFLIES!!! he makes your stomach turn, and those chocolate brown eyes always make you want to grab his face and smother him in kisses.

Your little daydreams got carried away sometimes, staring off into space when you hang out with him. "y/n, you there?" Shaking the thoughts away, you nod. He then just continues on about science.

But this Spiderman, saving people, helping the elder, oh what a dream he seemed very sweet and always helped no matter how minor the "crime" was.

Not knowing who he was drove New York crazy the secret identity was smart and cool, but it really started to pick up in the school halls.

How old was he?

Was 'he' he or 'she'?

How did they become super?

You were always talking about the latest crime fight Spiderman had done, digging into conspiracies, which always made Ethan laugh.

Lately, you haven't been able to hang out with Ethan as much as he signed up for active work at the police station with his dad. Most nights, he would be busy with his dad doing simple desk work and / or join him in a ride along. So, being on your own was the new daily.

It started a few weeks ago. Slowly, you noticed webs around your neighborhood buildings. 'Maybe Spiderman came through.' he was always around this part of town, so it made sense.

As the school days died down and the city got louder at night, you would relax on the rooftop of your apartment. Being so high in the sky, being able to see over it, was refreshing. Turning your music off, you'd listen to the sounds around you as your mind filled with thoughts. Homework would also fill the gap.

It wasn't until the second week of being on the rooftop that something wild happened. As you sat playing music going over your English notes, right across the street, Spiderman stood watching you. He didn't want to seem like a creep - well, standing in a head-to-toe body suit watching from a rooftop seemed weird, but he kept it lowkey.

He liked seeing you in such peace, sitting looking down at the people who roamed the streets, or how you would lay on your back looking at the sky. You were so beautiful in his eyes. He was so drawn to you, he couldn't just stay away.

Before he realized what he was doing, his arm straightened out activating his webs. Putting his full body weight in the web, he swung over he landed on the opposite side of the roof near you. Why was he so nervous, you don't know who he is! What if this ends up bad! wait, you don't know who he is! this is perfect.

"Why do you sit up here?" he spoke before he could process. The sudden voice made you jump and yelp a little. Looking around, you saw him. He stood a few feet away from you.

'Spiderman, oh my gosh, it's Spiderman,' you thought, your mind racing with so many questions. 'Why is he up here?' 'is this fake' ?Did I fall asleep again?'

"What? are- this- I- Are you really here?" he couldn't help but laugh at your comment and walked closer. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

"Well, duh," he tried to sound smooth, but his voice ended up cracking while he sat in front of you. You laughed as he tried to buff up his look.

"So? Why are you sitting up here?" he tilted his head to the side in a questioning way. The spider eyes on the mask opening and closing softly.

"It's peaceful up here, I get to see the city, and no one else comes up here so it's like the perfect place to escape for a little" your heart ached, you wished Ethan wasn't always so busy so you could take him up here.

He hummed, satisfied with your answer. 'How was he just so calm sitting here with me, like this is normal?'

"I'm sorry, as much as I think this is cool - uh, what are you doing here? Don't you have some crime to fight?" You threw some fake punches his way, laughing to ease your awkwardness.

"I mean, yeah, but it's a slow day, and I just saw you hanging out here. I've actually seen you here a lot the past few weeks, so you know, I just thought I'd see what you do. " he was blushing so hard under the mask, and his body was warm. 'Don't sound like a perv!'

"Do you do this a lot? spy on people?" Your voice is playful and light.

"Me? Well, psh No, I-I haven't done this before. Is it weird - oh, did I make you uncomfortable?!" As he spoke, his voice started to hold some panic.

"What - no, you didn't- NO this is cool! It's cool. I swear, I mean, you're Spiderman, like how wouldn't this be cool."

He felt a little better knowing it didn't make you uncomfortable. Hours had passed, and you talked about what it's like to fight crime and how he got his powers.

This soon became a regular occurrence. Every other night, he would show up and tell you the star crime of the day. You would bring extra drinks and food and give some to him. He would always turn around, or you would close your eyes when he ate/drank.

The feelings you had for him grew into an actual crush, now that you knew him - somewhat you felt like you could trust him.

After a few months, things started to change. He would tease you as you would do the same. Playful touching, whispering as he was inches away from your face. He grew so comfortable around you that he would sit shoulder to shoulder with you.

The smell of his calonge would fill your nose, a sense of familiar came to mind. The tension between you two could be cut by a knife, long shared glances, his body pressed into yours when he would give you his web shooters and show how to use them.

"Would you ever feel comfortable enough to take your mask off?" You sat on the edge of the rooftop with him right next to you, your hands resting near one another. The city lights shined on your face as he looked at you, a soft blush rose to your cheeks.

"Uh, maybe. I'm just scared. " he looked away, not wanting to face you.

"You don't have to be scared," you hand reached for his face, pulling it to face you. Even if you can't see his eyes, you knew they were looking right back at you. "You have my trust, and I promise not to break it," your voice was stern, yet like butter to his ears. His gloved hand went to yours, holding it closer to his face, leaning into your touch, the warmth of your hand seeping into his suit.

"It's getting pretty late; I should get going." Your hand fell from his face, and he nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow?" You were already walking towards the door with your bag over your shoulder.

"Yeah, of course!" he smiled under the mask matching the one you wore. Turning around, you could hear the web shooters, meaning he was leaving, but to your surprise, he hung over the door by his web. Looking up, your eyes followed it to the billboard.

"Only a little." He couldn't trust his own voice. He was nervous. 'Did she understand?'

The sound of cars honking and people shouting started to drown out as you stepped closer. 'Was he sure about this?' Your hands got closer to his neck, finding the edge of the mask. "Are you sure?" concerned you asking, pressured him.

"Yes, please." it almost sounded like a whine.

Pulling the mask over his chin past his lips; you stopped right before his nose. Your heart was beating very fast, feeling it in your throat, the butterflies in your stomach, it was driving you insane.

You could see he was blushing, some moles on his face near his lips. His lips, they looked so soft, and your hands held both sides of his face like he was going to get away. Your right hand let go though, reaching to trace his lips; they were soft, but also chapped. Both of your breaths were picking up.

"Please y/n," His voice whining again.

Pulling you out of your trance, you leaned in, "You're so beautiful."

Your lips clashed with his, inhaling his scent. This was heaven. The kiss was rough, the tension finally catching up. Teeth brushing each other sightly, you could feel his head pushing into yours. He wanted more, and so did you. Your lungs were burning gasping for air, but you didn't want to pull away, no, not yet. 'What if this is the only time I can kiss him, feel him?'

He was the first to pull away gasping for air. He just kissed you after wanting to for so long. "I'd like to do that again sometime." he was smiling so wide, being able to see it made your heart do flips.

"You know where to find me." Leaning in again, you kissed his cheek.

Taking the edge of the mask again, you pulled it back down towards his neck and tucking it in. "I'll see you tomorrow." Your hands dropped from his face, and you walked past him into the door.

Hours have passed, sitting on your bed acting like a little schoolgirl, giggling and kicking your feet. Who wouldn't you just kissed spiderman!

Looking at the clock, it was near one am. Sleep was catching up. So, you started your normal night routine. Finding some old extra oversized t-shirt, you slipped it on, and it landed on your mid-thigh barley coving much. You had shorts on but night shorts that were very short.

As you were done in the bathroom, you walked back into your room and felt a cold breeze. Looking around, you saw your window was open. An overwhelming feeling flooded your body as you knew you had closed it earlier. Getting closer, you hear a noise out of the darkness. Spiderman sat up, holding his side. He didn't look good.

"Help me," his body collapsed halfway in your window. your heart sunk at seeing him like this. Running to him, you grabbed him the best you could and pulled him in.

"What did you get yourself into, bug boy?" he sat against your wall, one arm trying to hold himself up and the other holding his abdomen.

"It's not that bad, I-" he removed his hand to show you the deep cut. it ran from lower chest to the middle of his stomach, "Okay, maybe it's a little bad." Every word was broken up by him groaning or wheezing.

"I'll be back." Running out of your room, you grabbed the first aid kit in the hallway. "I don't have much, so we have to make this work."

Before you started to clean the cut, you looked at his face. The mask was beat up pretty bad. He had a tear in it, running from his ear to chin. After tonight, you don't think this suit would survive.

"Can you move?" Your voice was low. The last thing you need is your parents finding Spiderman in your room.

"I'll try," he tried to push himself up, his head spinning. Standing with him, you saw him stumble, catching him. You guided him to your bed. As soon as he sat down, the pain was too much to bear. His body went limp.

"Hey! bug boy! hey, can you hear me?" You sat next to him, patting his face over and over and hoping to wake him up. His eyes would open and close after a few seconds, "You got to stay with me!"

"I'm tired." he was barely auditable.

As you looked at him, an idea came to your mind, "I'm sorry," putting a hand over his mouth and taking your other hand, you pressed down on the cut. He yelled into your hand in pain, his eyes tearing up under the mask. 'fuck'

The most you could do right now is clean the wounds and patch him up. He was awake but laid there quietly. You were so focused on making sure the wounds were thoroughly cleaned that you didn't realize one of his hands laid on your thigh, gripping it every time you wiped the cuts.

"You're okay." You tried your best to comfort him, and not much could be said though truthfully.

Once you checked over his entire body for more wounds, you moved up to his face. the mask was resting weirdly, "I finished everything else, but if you don't want me to clean -" As you spoke, his hand that wasn't on your thigh reached for the mask ripping it off.

Your jaw dropped.

ETHAN FUCKING LANDRY.

YOUR BEST FRIEND.

"I-" before he could fully speak, you flung your body into his. He winced out in pain as he felt you on him, yet he felt better.

Your eyes were watering at this point, seeing Spiderman - no seeing Ethan like this ripped your heart apart. "I had my theories- but fuck bug boy why?!" you pulled away making eye contact. He could see the tear stains running down your rosy cheeks.

"Don't cry pretty, girl, please don't cry. I'm okay - kind of, " he chuckled, hoping it helped ease the tension. His hand cupped your face, his finger halfway in your hair, his thumb resting on your cheek moving side to side wiping the tears.

"You're an idiot you know that?" You hit his shoulder, pushing him back a little. He made a face like it hurt but only smiled. Looking at you through his lashes, blood sprayed on his face, scars you haven't seen before. His eyes softened as he saw your face red and stained, crying, pouting.

"I'm hoping to be your idiot though." his thumb still ran across your cheek, slowly moving down to trace your lips. He hasn't stopped thinking about kissing you. Even when he was dying, the need for you was strong.

He was just looking at your lips at this point. He looked at you like he was starving. The hunger for you grew stronger after that kiss. Noticing the change in how he looked at you, a laugh escaped you. "For almost dying, you sure are a teenage boy with your thoughts"

Your voice pulled him back, snapping his eyes up to yours he smiled. "That obvious?" Your hand had gone to his wrist rubbing circles into his skin as he did the same to your face.

Your head went forward, forehead to forehead. A sweet little moment between you two. "Don't die. I know what you do is dangerous, but I don't think I can handle seeing you crawl into my room like this again." he nodded his head, yours moving with his.

You felt far away from him too far, using what strength he had left he pulled you into his lap, straddling him, your breath hitched.

"I won't, I promise." his hand left your thigh holding out his pinky. It was cheeky, yes, but he would.

Both of your breaths were heavy, and the tension in the room was filled again. It's like he knew because he would lean in to ghost over your lips, yet pull away. 'asshole'

"Kiss me already," your voice was laced with annoyance.

Pulling you in from the back of your head, your lips crashed together, and it felt different. This kiss was hungry. It was needy. His hands went over the curves of your body, trailing under the t-shirt, gripping the back of your back, pulling you towards him if possible.

Your hands were tangled in his hair, the curls all broken apart, pulling it softly, earning a moan from him.

Your body was thinking faster than your mind, rocking back and forth on him. The feeling of his body tensing, pulling away to kiss your jaw, then your neck. Your head fell back, giving him more access. His lips were soft against your skin, his teeth grazing your skin as he left love bites, both of you, a moaning mess.

"Ethan" moaning out his name was something you both dreamed of "we- shouldn't- not- not now-" your words kept getting broken up from the feeling of him sucking your neck, and how his hands gripped your hips moving you more.

"Why?" he voice was muffled from being in your neck. He knew it wasn't the right time since he was so beaten up. His hands loosed up on your hips, and a whine could be heard from you. That didn't stop him from peppering your neck and face with kisses thought.

"Fine. We'll stop, but next time, I won't quit as easily. " he pulled his face out of your neck so he could look at you. Your face was red, with a smirk on it.

"Let's just lay here then," you crawled off of his lap. You laid down, following you, and he pulled you so close that you were basically on top of him again.

"I'm fine with that." he looked down, kissing the top of your head before sleep took over his body.

[exquisiteserotonin]

In the Velvet Light

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Pairing: Steven Grant x F!Reader, Marc Spector X F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: After you get off work early, you visit your boyfriend Steven, then Marc at the museum, with intention of asking him for an interesting but important request concerning your relationship

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some Spanish, dirty talk, oral sex, somewhat dubcon (if you squint), polyamory (if you squint) knife play, cunnilingus, and a lot of other things that I want to put but I don't want to put in here bc I don't want to ruin the story...just know there are very explicit adult things that happen here OK?

A/N: This is my very first Moon Knight fic and Oscar Isaac character fic. I know I have kept it to Pedro up to this point, but I definitely wanted to branch out. Hope you all love it.

And as always, so much love to my magical sluts @redhotkitchen @imalrightllama @blueheat1-blog @basicoccult @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @sparklefarts38 @arcanefox207

In the Velvet Light

If there were any place in the world that whispered the word peace it would be museums. This was a universal truth, no one could convince you otherwise. The cleanliness, the quiet, the vast spaces, and the tiny corners gathered all in one massive space where no one dared intrude upon the reflections taking root and growing in your brain. It didn’t matter what type of museum: art, science, history. They all gave you the perfect place to let brilliant ideas percolate.

The loud, hydraulic hiss of the bus echoed to the ears of all the passengers as rolled to a stop at the British Museum. It was a stop for locals and tourists alike and today it was yours as well. The sound and smell of the rain on the pavement greeted you as the doors of the bus opened. A breath of excited anxiety escaped you. The way that the raindrops splashed on the growing rain puddles mirrored the way your heart was beating quickly in your chest. 

The majesty of the foyer and everything in it always reminded you of how much bigger and older the world really was. You walked amongst the other visitors, several smiling faces from the staff greeted you in friendly recognition. 

“How are you today, love?” said a tall, burly security guard with the warmest smile. 

You kissed him on either side of his brown, jovial cheeks. 

“Hello Ollie, doing well today?”

“Always, love,” every word from his mouth seemed to float out full of kindness, “meeting Steven a little early today?”

A knot formed in your stomach at the question. You would meet Steven for work occasionally, just to surprise him. Today was different, you felt in every part of your body. From the moment you woke up to this moment, you’d been nervous about meeting him today. With a nod and a smile, you answered Ollie’s question and left a tiny skip in your step.

Before losing yourself in the museum, you found a moment to freshen up in the bathroom. It was quiet and dark, nearly the exact opposite of the brightness and bustle of the Great Court. You stood in front of the sink and pulled out your lipstick from your purse. A twist of the tube revealed a vivid red, a color you normally wouldn’t have chosen for yourself. As you smoothed the rich color over your lips, you kept your eyes on your reflection in the triptych style mirror. You looked from left, right, and then back to center, marveling at how different you could look in such a deep color.

I wonder if he will notice. You thought to yourself as you combed your fingers through your hair.

The black hue of your boots stood in stark contrast to the pristine white floors and walls of the court. The rain-kissed sunlight filtered through the tessellating roof, casting warm and shifting shadows on your face, neck, and shoulders. You twirled around, letting the prismatic light bathe you and your pirouetting shadow, helping you to briefly forget the feeling of excited anxiety that continued to settle in the pit of your stomach. You began to draw, doodle, and write whatever came to you, letting it flow from your veins, through the pen, and onto the paper. You laughed at the three cute little doodles you made of your boyfriend. 

Nonsense. You murmured silently in your head. 

The afternoon moved and with it the sunlight filtered through the roof. You followed the golden beams, like you were skipping through a creek trying to find the sunbeams hiding in the shadows cast by leaves on a tree. The little game you made to pass the time had you so engrossed that you didn’t even notice Steven standing in a single beam of sunlight that broke through the glass roof. You couldn’t help but smile seeing him, something about his face. The way his eyes were so bright and open and full of wonder at everything. He wrapped his arms around you, enveloping in an embrace full of warmth and love. You squeezed him tightly as he held you, leaning your head closely to the side of his face, nuzzling your nose into his neck and into the soft curls of his black hair. He sensed something. You knew it in the way his long fingers slowly caressed the sides of your waist as he unraveled you from his embrace. His fingers moved lovingly up your arms, until they laced themselves in your waves while his palms cupped your face. 

“Did I ever tell you that I have the best girlfriend ever?” he said very matter-of-factly as the pads of his thumbs caressed the sides of your face. 

“Oh my god, I had no idea!” You teased, pulling him by the lapel of his jacket. “Who is she?!” 

“I don’t know, but she’s certainly never tempted me with this shade of red before,” he said, bringing gentle fingers to your chin just below your pout.

He scrunched his nose as the most charming grin situated itself on his face before he moved in to kiss you. It was so difficult to explain, but that little crinkle of his nose was something you found so endearingly irresistible about him. The gesture was so perfectly Steven and so perfectly kissable. 

“I also know,” he said as he intertwined his fingers in yours as you walked towards the exit of the museum, “that you’re definitely keeping something from me.”  

A secretive silence took over you as the sunlight began to wane over the glass rooftop. When he turned to you again, the beams of light waxed and waned with kaleidoscopic triangles of light and dark illuminated his chiseled face. With a light cough, you cleared your throat, a small feeling of guilt settling over your chest. There was no use in hiding things from him, considering your unique situation.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You insisted as you walked outside, your steps rippling your reflections in the puddles the rain left behind. “You know I don’t keep things from you.”

“Not intentionally, no,” he said as his expression suddenly turned to confusion as you continued towards the crosswalk. “Wait, sweetheart, why’re we crossing the street? 

Turning to him, you smoothed the wrinkles in his jacket and kissed him, wiping your thumb along his lips where yours had left their mark. He sucked a deep inhale into his chest, and you could see the small glimmer of yearning shine in his eyes. The rain had stopped enough to let the sunset work her magic on his olive skin, highlighting it with warm colors of gold and coral. 

“Come home with me tonight,” you whispered as your lips parted from his. 

A combination of excitement and trepidation filled the lines around his expressive brown eyes. It wasn’t about sex, you knew that. You had already taken that much needed step in your relationship. Sex was far from being a problem in your relationship. No, you know from how his eyes hollowed in fear that this was something much more. 

“Oh, love,” he said letting go of your hands to wring his nervously, “aren’t you worried about---”

You wrapped your hands in his to alleviate some of the anxiety that lived in his shaking hands. 

“Steven,” you said, keeping a steady gaze on him, “you trust me, right?”

The inner corner of his eyebrows raised up as he nodded in earnest. It was difficult for him not to hang on to every word that left your mouth. Keeping his hand in yours, you crossed the street just as a bus stopped, ready for you to embark. You led Steven towards the middle of the bus, finding two empty seats. Steven gestured for you to take a seat first. When he sat next to you, you hooked your arm under his, your hand finding its way back to hold his. He leaned towards you, turning to give your forehead a kiss before you rested your head on his shoulder. 

Your eyes turned to look out the window, watching as the remaining raindrops trickled down the window. The dusky sunlight reflected off them like liquid gold. 

“Why do you have such a hard time opening up to him?” The sound of a subtle New York accented voice, pressed lightly against your forehead. 

In the window, you glanced at the reflection of your boyfriend’s face. His thick brows were lower, his eyes narrowed with greater focus, and his jaw and neck muscles were taut with stoicism. 

“Marc?” you inquired, still not used to how quickly he could appear without warning. 

He pulled you in with his gaze. It was one of concern, but in a different way from Steven’s. When he looked at you with that furrowed brow and discerning expression in his eyes, it was easy for you to see that he understood without words the feelings you were going through. A small, but grateful and earnest smile grew on your lips before you gave him a kiss. He didn’t melt quite the same way Steven did, but you could tell from the gentle caresses on your fingertips that he was letting himself relax. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit unfair to be talking to me about stuff that bothers you and not him?” Marc asked. 

“Marc, it’s not like he doesn’t find out anywa---,” you started, but Marc was so quick to interject. 

“Nah, no it doesn’t work that way, sweetheart,” he insisted while shaking his head at you. 

You took note of his words and lingered on ‘sweetheart.’ It was one of the terms of endearment that both Steven and Marc shared for you. You could never explain to anyone how your relationship (or was it relationships?) worked. You were in love with more than one man who shared the same face and the same body, but with distinctive personalities, distinctive lives. When you wondered how you’d introduce your friends or your family to him, telling them the truth was the worst possible option. 

Ok, friends, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, well boyfriends, really. He has, they have Dissociative Identity Disorder. 

No, that wouldn’t work at all. 

“I’ve just been anxious,” you explained to Marc, expressing all that floated in your head in the least number of words possible. “We’ve been together for a while now and it always feels like I’m having to navigate something new.”  

You caught Marc briefly looking at the window. 

“He’s listening, isn’t he?” You asked. 

Marc nodded with a raised brow and a shrug of his shoulders. The gesture told you that Steven “listening in” on your conversation was inevitable.

“Look, you don’t need to be scared about telling us anything, everything even,” Marc assured you with a gentle squeeze and massage of your thigh. 

It was unexpected and sent shivers up your core, reminding you of why you were so anxious in the first place. Another glimpse of Marc looking in the window caught your eye. You wondered what knowing glances they shared with one other. What did each of those glances mean when they were clearly shared about you? 

“I know, you’re right,” you acknowledged. 

“So, tell me, tell us,” Marc uttered before giving you a gentle kiss, “we’ve got a long ride home.”  

The long, stop-and-go bus ride was tolerable because you had Marc with you. When you arrived at your bus stop, you felt Marc’s fingers tighten in yours. Each step that you both took echoed on the cobblestone streets that led to your flat. And with each step that you took, Marc’s hand squeezed yours harder, an unspoken indication of his growing anxiety. Marc dug his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath as you unlocked your door. Before you walked in, you took his face gently in your hands. You looked deep into his eyes, searching for every part of him in those glossy brown globes of his. 

“Do you trust me?” You asked the same question you asked Steven. 

He rested your forehead against yours and nodded, kissing the inside of your palms. 

He followed you up the short set of stairs to your inside door. You flipped on the wall switch, filling your living room with warm light. Marc walked around your flat, taking note of the decor, a mix of mid-century, bohemian, and Scandinavian. A smile spread on his face with the thought that all of it was so perfectly you. 

“Make yourself at home,” you whispered softly in his ear, “I’ll be right back.”

Everything in your bedroom was perfect just as you had planned it to be. The terracotta-colored bed sheets were freshly washed. The lamps on your nightstand gave off a dim but romantic glow better than any overhead light could. You had even cleaned the circular mirror that hung over your dresser and the large arched, floor length mirror that rested against the opposite wall. Before you returned to Marc, you undressed from your work clothes and put on a purple, gauzy and lace chemise, paired with a slinky lace thong, with a deep teal kimono over it. You looked at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers through your waves and putting on a sheer gloss over your red lips. You understood, all of this didn’t make any sense. You knew he’d be ripping it off you in a matter of minutes, but he’d never been to your home. This was going to be something you made sure you would remember. 

You watched as Marc awkwardly walked around your small living room, pacing around wondering if he should sit or remain standing. It was almost Steven-like. As you glided back to him, he stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by the vision of you. 

“So, this is what you were hiding?” Marc growled, as he admired you, grabbing you by the ass and pulling you towards him. “Don’t think Steven will be too upset about it as long as he gets a turn.” 

Marc pulled you into him, rubbing his hands up and down the light, lacy fabric until he grabbed your ass again with his large hands. With his right hand, he grabbed the supple muscle of your thigh and lifted it to his waist. Keeping your hands on his face you kissed him fervently, sucking on his bottom lip until you were pulling it gently with your teeth. 

“Quiero hablar con Jake,” you stated with conviction as you ran your fingers through Marc’s dark curls. 

Suddenly, he stopped and backed away from you, his brow knitted together in disbelief, “You have no idea what you’re asking me.” 

“Yes, baby, I do,” you assured, pulling him to you again as walked backwards to your bedroom. 

Marc stood before you, his eyes dark with disappointment and anger. You let your kimono drop to the floor and moved to him, bringing your face close to his. He took a strong, commanding grip on your wrists when you tried to push his open button-up shirt away from his shoulders. 

“What do you think this is some kind of joke?” Marc snarled through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea what he’s capable of?”

“Marc, you and Steven said you trusted me,” you said as you planted kisses on his neck and jaw. “It’s been hard, but you’ve told me that I should trust you and be open with both of you, all of you---why should Jake be any different?

“No, not up for discussion,” Marc shook his head. 

You pressed your forehead to his and moved your right hand up his chest and then to his face. You eased him into a gentle kiss, slipping your tongue until he was weak in the knees. 

“Let me talk to Jake,” you requested again, gripping his face tighter with your hands. 

Marc looked at you resolutely to protect you from what he perceived as dangerous. 

“You owe me this, Marc,” you affirmed through gritted teeth. 

“Then you’d have to make me,” Marc growled, bringing his face as close to yours without touching it.

His breath was hot and touched your painted lips with angry disappointment. Anger and frustration took over you and you lifted your hand, slapping him in the face. An immediate feeling of guilt took over you and you apologetically began caressing the curls that touched Marc’s forehead.

“Oh god, Marc,” you gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

Slowly, he lifted his face and focused his dark eyes on you. His eyebrows were angled downward. He lifted his hand, wrapping it around your wrist in a nearly painful grip. The light and shadows that traced the map of his face revealed eyes darker than you’d ever seen on Marc or Steven. The corners of his lips were turned slightly downward and the vein at the side of his neck was prominent from the tightness of his jaw. 

“Not Marc, hermosa,” he growled as he grabbed a hold of your other hand, tossing you on the bed.  

“Jake?” You gasped, looking at him as he grazed lustful eyes over your body. 

“Sí, claro,” he replied, his voice low and wanton as he stared up at the round mirror above your dresser. 

You weren’t sure who he was looking at, Marc or Steven, maybe it was both. Your mind and body completely focused on the man crawling over you on the bed. His hands explored the peaks and valleys of your body. His touch had its own quality that you had never experienced or imagined. With Steven, he made you feel like a queen always willing to serve you and remind you how beautiful you were through gentle, loving touches, and aftercare. Marc was decidedly more confident in himself, though your physical pleasure was always a priority, and he reveled in making you come especially on his tongue. No, this touch had no resemblance to theirs and you trembled beneath it.

Jake’s lips curled up into a devilish smile as he tightened his grip on your wrists. He brought his lips to your neck and pushed your legs apart with his strong thighs. Your breaths came out in quick gasps as he rolled his hips against you, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans. 

“Are you scared of me, muñeca?” His breath was hot against your skin. 

“I—I don’t---,” you couldn’t find the words to confess how you were feeling, but every inch of your body quivered.

Trapping you beneath his legs, Jake reached into his back pocket to pull out a switchblade. You wiggled beneath him, but stilled yourself as he opened the knife and began tracing it lightly on chest. You closed your eyes, knowing you should feel nothing but paralyzing fear, but your body betrayed you as you rolled your pelvis upward in desperation for him. With a quick swipe of his blade, he cut a slit down the middle of your chemise, ripping the rest of it from your body with his bare hands. A moan escaped you as he tossed the remnants to the floor.

“Oh, you like this, hermosa,” he groaned as returned the blade to his back pocket, getting harder the more you writhed beneath him, “this is why you wanted us to come with you.” 

His hands worked at your tits, massaging them, squeezing them with heavy hands, and pinching your nipples until you were crying for him. He painted a hot wet trail up your body with his tongue until he wrapped his mouth around your right nipple, swirling it in mouth, drawing out continuous moans from your lips. A quick nip of his teeth at each nipple sent a wave of ecstasy through your body and you could do nothing but yelp out his name. 

“You want me to fuck you,” Jake growled as he pulled his shirt off over his head and as he unzipped and pushed his jeans off to the floor, “You’ve been wanting me to fuck you.” 

He pulled your hips towards the edge of the bed, where you were met with his mouth planting hot, wet kisses on your mound through your lacy purple underwear. He took two long fingers caressing the center of the lacy fabric, your desire growing with each stripe he traced there. 

“Dímelo,” he said as he curled the tips of his fingers at the edge of your underwear. 

They were so close to your center, so close to touching exactly where you wanted him. But not close enough. 

“Say it,” he demanded while he continued to taunt you with his fingers.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathed out, “---need you to fuck me, Jake.”

He paused with a low, deviant laugh that came from the back of his throat. You pressed yourself up on your elbows, needing to see his face after your reply. His eyelids were low with the most wanton desire as his gaze shifted to the large mirror that rested against the wall between two, long arched-shaped windows. The moon beams were bright through the window, and you saw them glimmer in his eyes before he said anything again. 

“Don’t worry, hermanos,” he said, his voice rumbling against your center, “I’ll take good care of her.” 

The sound of ripped lace reached your ears and just as quickly, Jake’s mouth was on you in a slow open-mouthed kiss. All you could do was gasp as he slipped  his tongue through your folds licking with slow, broad strokes of his tongue from the bottom to the top. He worshipped at your clit with slow, torturous circles until he licked down to your center, repeating the movements all over again. You bucked against him with a moan and moved your hands to lace your fingers in his curls. 

“Estas tan desesperada por mi,” he uttered, tightening your grip against his hair so that your hands couldn’t move. 

He pushed face further into your mound, the tip of his nose touching your clit as he his tongue dipped deeper through your folds, trading endlessly between broad, delectable strokes and swift, tight swipes that tortured you with each exchange. The beat of your heart pounded to your ears and all your nerve endings felt like they had gathered around your swollen pussy as he hummed against it. He wrapped his soft lips against your clit, rolling his tongue against you at first and then sucking every bit of your slick in his expert mouth. 

“Fuck---Jake---feel so good!” you cried out, trying to push your hips towards him for more. 

A deep throaty hum left his mouth as he began to slip one, then two fingers into your slick. His tongue never let go of its ownership on your clit as his fingers thrusted in and out of you, stoking the fire inside of you. Like some kind of poetic synchronicity your toes curled just as he curled his fingers in you, feeding your fire and sucking at your clit like it's the only thing he’s ever needed. In a matter of seconds, you came with a line of breathy cries of his name while he clamped his arms around your writhing hips. 

“Move up, cariño,” he said, slapping at your pussy and helping you with a slight roll of your hips sideways. 

His eyes kept their intense and libidinous gaze on you as you trembled and rolled in the sheets as he pulled off his black boxer-briefs. You licked your lips as he crawled towards you, cradling you in his arms as his right hand gripped your face as he kissed you. You knew your lipstick would be a mess by the way he devoured your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Need you---need your cock, Jake!” you cried, your fingers reaching out to him through the waves of your bed sheets. 

More than ready to oblige, he crawled over you and growled in your ear, “All fours, muñeca.”

His hands massaged your ass before, caressing up and down your waist before he gifted you with one, two, three strong slaps of his firm hand. Shuddering with ecstasy, you looked up and saw the mess he was making of you in your large mirror, your lipstick smeared and your face moaning with desperation for his depravity. It was like being hypnotized as you watched yourself and him in the mirror. A long thread of saliva left his mouth and dripped down to your ass, and you were suddenly wiggling back for him. He teased you with a few quick slaps of your pussy with his hard, bobbing cock and he coated his cock with a few pumps of his own saliva he’d pressed to his fingers with his tongue. And with decadent groans, he began to push into you. 

You’d felt this cock many times before, you reminded yourself with closed eyes, as Jake slapped into you with a few shallow thrusts. But you’ve never felt it quite this way, as he pulls back almost completely before he is bottoming out into you with an unrestrained grinding of his hips, making sure you can hear the slap of your hips and your soaking pussy against him. 

“Oh god, fuck, so good, Jake” you cried as you pressed your face against your sheets and pushed back against him. 

“Face up, cariño,” he ordered as you felt him swiftly wipe his thumb against your asshole, “want you to see your face when I make you cum all over my cock.” 

A moan escapes you at the novel feeling, one that Steven or Marc had never done for you. Jake  made a few more quick slaps on your ass as you scrambled to lift yourself back onto your hands. His loud groans continued to fill your bedroom as he thrusted in and out of you with a varied pace you couldn’t anticipate, driving you mad. 

“Jake, please---please fuck me like I’m your whore,” you begged through filthy cries for him.

The second those words slipped from your lip, Jake’s hand slid from the attention he was giving your asshole until he was caressing your back and pulling at the waves of your hair. His thrusts felt unimaginably deeper as he kept a strong grip there, thrusting and throbbing against the walls of your tight cunt. 

“Fuck, look at you!” He groaned as his thrusts became faster and faster as they continued to hammer deep inside of you. “Look at her, a fucking mess, acting like a whore for me.”

You couldn’t help but look, feeling almost bad that you knew Jake was speaking, no taunting Marc and Steven. The way your tits bounced, the way you clutched at the sheets, and the way your mouth hung open in an unending moan for him. The sounds that echoed from your cunt were wet and obscene. 

“I---Jake---Jake I’m gonna cum!” you cried, trying to reach back to him as the walls of your pussy quivered and clenched against his long, thick shaft. 

With vigorously deep thrusts, he emptied inside you with a luscious and raspy moan, “That’s it, mi amor, take it all.” 

With one final groan he pulled himself from you, swiping one thumb to your asshole before sliding one quiver-inducing stroke to the folds of your sensitive pussy. Together you collapsed in a mess of sweaty, love-soaked limbs. Resting right leg open against his thigh gave him a chance to caress your legs with an unexpectedly soft hand. You used this moment of silence to catch your breath and regain your composure, not sure what to expect afterwards from Jake. 

“That was...unexpected,” you sighed looking over at a smirking Jake, whose eyes were closed in post-coital bliss, “are they---,” 

“They’ll get over it,” he responded quickly to your unfinished question about Marc and Steven, “besides you said, ‘all in’, right? I’ve just shown them it’s ok to push you to your limits.” 

You turned to Jake, propped yourself on one elbow, and turned his face towards you with a gentle, but teasing hand, “Tsk, oh darling, you’ve only just scratched the surface.”

[mins-fins]

space science.

&&. poor you, poor miserable, troubled, unfavorable you.

pairing: liu yangyang x m!reader

genre: angst, bittersweet tragedy 🙁

warnings: mentions of abuse

word count: 1.7k

notes: i wanted to make people sad today guys 😆 okay i didnt mean to make this my yangyang fic debut on my account and im sorry but you guys.. it's just needed okay! i need to make a whole wayv angst thing wait………(hendery is next 😈)

"what do you wanna be when you grow up?"

you whisper against yangyang's ears, eyes closed as you lean your head onto his shoulder. your arms were wrapped around his chest, leaning on his shoulders as he carried you on his back, his hands rested on your thighs. yangyang's eyes trailed over the path before him, observing the familiar rock pattern littering the ground, one he recognizes.

yangyang had nothing in mind, too focused on the weight on his back, seemingly unbothered even with how long the two of you have been walking.

"i don't know yet.." he mutters, his voice low as he continued walking, showing no signs of tiredness in his voice or actions. he continued to walk forward, venturing through the forest down a familiar path, one he'd walk down so many times when he was younger.

you hold onto yangyang tightly, scared he might be mad at having to carry you. that probably isn't the case, especially because he's never had any trouble carrying you before, but that doesn't stop the thoughts from invading your mind.

"does y/n still dream of becoming an astronaut?" yangyang asks, his shoes stepping on rocks and dust, creating sounds that echoed in the forest. his question is meant to be a distraction for you, it's meant to make you forget the pain you are currently in. the more he thought about it, the more he remembered details of your life that he thought he'd long since forgotten.

it was when you two were in elementary school, you told him that you wanted to be an astronaut when you grew up.

i want to see the stars up close! he remembers you exclaiming, so passionately, eyes shining so bright, it was like they were stars themselves.

years have passed, and that dream was nothing more than the fantasies created by a child. you created it as an escape, the stars in the sky were the only things that truly gave you hope in times where you were suffering at home.

whenever you couldn't take it, you'd find yourself at a familiar place, your safe place, as you liked to call it, a place that only the two of you knew about. a small secluded treehouse in the forest behind his parents house, where you could escape from the chaos of your home life, where you could peacefully sit and stare the stars.

you'd always make wishes on the stars, hoping that one day, your life would become just a little more bearable, that mom wouldn't be mad at you all the time, that your dreams would become a reality in somehow or another.

you had now been reduced to nothing but a fragile human being, one who couldn't be put back together no matter how much yangyang tried.

"i don't want to anymore.." you mutter, blinking your tears away as you stare at yangyang's face. you give a sad smile, and continue. "i just want to be with you forever" you whisper, hiding your face in his neck.

yangyang smiles bitterly at the statement, the chances of that happening was slim to none. it was an innocent statement, yes, but with the way you two had turned out, the idea of you two staying seemed more harmful to you than anything.

yangyang loves you, really, he does— but he can't help you.

his emotions always confuse him when he's with you, he can't control the overwhelming sadness, anger, or happiness he feels when around you.

but what can he even do? it's not like you did all of this to yourself, you were never given a happy life because your mother is a bitter women, hated seeing you turn into everything she couldn't— to the point that she'd destroy anything that made you happy.

he could never do anything to help you, all he could do was watch, observe. he would see all the new bruises on your body and be absolutely useless in the situation.

he would always offer to carry you when you were especially hurt, which pretty much became the thing for you too. there would be moments where you'd be too slow, so hurt that walking would hurt you, and yangyang wouldn't even ask, he'd just let you jump on his back and he'd carry you to your safe place.

sometimes, yangyang feels guilty, because no matter what, he can't save you.

sometimes; not always.

helping you has always been yangyang's thing, from the moment the two of you met at five, the idea of being able to help you, save you from the nightmare which was your moms house, was what constantly reassured him.

he promised you that someday, he'd get you out of there, that the two of you could run away together forever, and you wouldn't have to worry about your parents, or school, or hurting.

you were so beautiful, so innocent, you had a smile so bright it seemed that you could heal all disasters with it. yangyang never knew why the urge to protect you seemed to come naturally, but it just did, you didn't deserve to be in that kind of environment, he couldn't believe the kinds of things your mom put you through.

you were vulnerable, so easy to break.

and so is he— but yangyang would never admit it, because the idea of anybody seeing that side of him made him want to vomit, no one, and he means no one is allowed to know that, because it's stupid, it's idiotic, it's—

he can't explain it, he feels like he's wasting his time trying to come up with excuses in his mind.

he doesn't even know if he can muster up enough mind to actually look at you.

your a crybaby, weak, pathetic, stupid—

oh poor poor y/n, poor sad y/n, poor y/n who can't stand up for himself, poor y/n who still believes the stars will save him, poor little y/n whose been reduced to nothing but a fragile mess!

though the words always work their way into yangyang's mind, he could never leave you behind.

yangyang finally stops, having made it to the destination you begged him to take you too.

he originally wanted to refuse— because after all this time you couldn't just keep running away from your problems, choosing to go to some treehouse in the middle of a forest and wishing on the stars instead of confronting your issues head on, like you should be.

but no matter how hard he tried, yangyang didn't refuse, just bit his tongue and agreed. making you unhappy was the last thing he wanted to do, you were hurt, in pain, unwell, and if this was the one thing he could do for you, then so be it.

yangyang curses himself for easily being influenced by you..

"yangyang.. i love you" you whisper, voice shaky as you spoke. yangyang hums, hiking you higher up his back as he climbs the stairs to your safe place.

"i love you too, y/n.." he says back, his expression remaining empty as he gives a mere glance at your face, at your watery eyes.

yangyang slowly takes you off his back, placing you down onto the couch right beside the entrance. he performs the action gently, as if afraid of breaking you if he dropped you down too recklessly.

your obsessed, says yangyang's friends, you've become too attached to him, always clinging onto him no matter what. you shouldn't be putting all your issues onto his shoulders, being dependent on him to always help you when your in need, he deserves better, they all say, better than you.

yangyang knows you too well to even be annoyed by how you act anymore. your presence has become comforting to him, it's not exactly easy to explain, because he'd probably come off as creepy if he even tried to voice his thoughts about you, he's just so used to you being there beside him—

like there's something wrong when you aren't there with him.

people say that the love you harbor for yangyang isn't normal, your more infatuated than in love, people say that yangyang should run while he has the chance..

but yangyang knows more than they do, you could never truly hurt him even if you wanted to, you can't even hurt a fly, let alone hurt him. he's pretty much the only person keeping you up, you'd be gone if he wasn't around, you need him.

he's the only person you can count on, your mother is shitty and your father is gone.

"are we going to look at the stars?" your voice snaps yangyang out his distracting thoughts process, and you immediately circle your arms around his waist when he places himself beside you.

yangyang lets you squeeze him, your cold fingers rub against the skin of his waist, but he doesn't even shiver at the touch anymore, instead settling into the solace of it, a feeling he recognizes from you.

he doesn't respond immediately, instead pointing up at the opening in the ceiling, where they could clearly see the stars through the glass. yangyang had installed it into the treehouse himself so you could stare at the stars without having to go outside.

"orion" he states, his other arm coming to rest around your waist. "and ursa major".

"i guess were not seeing cassiopeia tonight.." you mutter, not exactly to yangyang, but more to yourself. your voice conveys disappointment, but you quickly shake off whatever thoughts you were having.

"you can still make a wish, though".

yangyang knows you, he knows you so well, it was often that you'd make a wish when you saw the constellation cassiopeia, thinking of it as a good luck charm because of it's connection to your birthday.

you lower your head, eyes pointed to the floor. "they never come true anyway.."

yangyang slowly retracts his hand and moves it to intertwine your fingers, he doesn't say any more, and neither do you, a comfortable silence settles between you two.

"aren't you afraid y/n?"

the question is a surprising one, but you don't say much about it, just let out an airy laugh, giving a little squeeze at his hand. "i'll be alright because your here".

a small smile comes to your face, but it's sad, your unwell, your sick, your sad, and yangyang can't help you, no matter how much he tries.

oh poor you—

whose been reduced to nothing but a fragile mess.

[leohtttbriar]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme: would love to give you the excuse to talk about voyager. (or if that's too easy, something you like about your least favorite star trek series??)

i love voyager. so so much. i tried to think if i love another star trek series i've seen any less than voyager, but i can't honestly say that i do? i love ds9, tos, discovery, and, yes, even snw. i am in the embarrassing position of admitting that i really just love star trek, in a mostly uncomplicated way.

of the things i love about voyager, the premise is probably the biggest one. i have rambled about this a lot already but: i think it confronts for the first time in star trek the inherent sadness associated with us studying the stars--and therefore the sadness that science-fiction writers mostly imagine their way out of, often as a way to speculate a time when this reality may be less real: the fact that space is big. it is too big. the fastest human beings have ever traveled, with their own bodies along for the ride, still isn't fast enough to get us to the moon in less than three days. light--the speed limit of the universe--needs a full eight minutes to get from the sun to us--a relatively close planet. space is enormous. we measure things that are "close" in light-years. everything is so spread out and that's just from the perspective of being inside a galaxy, which is actually crowded when compared to intergalactic space. everything is so far away and so long away and it feels impossible to think of getting anywhere in a time meaningful to us and our lifespans. which is in its own way heartbreaking.

and while in voyager they are clearly not alone in the way we feel we could be (and in practice are until we get the smallest sign that even non-intelligent life exists off our very own special rock) with all the aliens they meet and the fact that they are on a ship that can go faster than light, they are stranded and they are on their way back home and it will still take them a life-time. that's the reality of the story: that they will spend the rest of their lives trying to get back. and though i know they do get back much quicker than that, where i'm at in the beginning of season 3 that is still the reality of it. and this makes literally everything that happens in the show so fascinating--even if it's a plot or an idea that not only happened in another series but was done technically better in that series. every plot in voyager is colored by the tension between what the star trek ethos is as a whole--exploration and diversity and learning and humanity--all in an optimistic light--and what voyager is about--getting back home. it makes me think of the tension in the actual "voyagers," somewhere now in interstellar space, and the golden record with a map of earth's position etched onto it: spacecraft meant to never be returned but contained on them is a deep, deep hope that in some way they will be. this tension, to me, affects everything on the show.

but that's maybe too big an idea without specific examples from the series--i might ramble about that at another point lol

in the spirit of your question, i will say there is one star trek property that i don't particularly care for on the whole and that's the 2009 movie (and sequels). but i will also say what that movie did right and what i do love about it even if i don't love the movie as a whole is how it portrayed the high-tech poetics of star trek in a much more immediately understandable way than even the 90s shows could for a 21st century audience. the "apple-store" aesthetic is really an argument about how this is the future and it's sleek and stylish and humans have advanced in their engineering and scientific abilities. and among this high-tech argument is uhura front and center: she's very loudly and explicitly a linguist and she fits in this silicon-valley look despite the fact that nowadays things like linguistics are considered "soft sciences" in a general way and treated like that very specifically by the tech-industry now (the attitude being "there's an app for that"). but uhura makes a central discovery in one of her labs at the beginning of the movie which gives her and kirk a leg up on understanding the Movie Threat. the 2009 movie significantly raised her importance as a character, to the point that the "main trio" in those movies is, arguably, more kirk/spock/uhura than it is kirk/spock/mccoy---especially if you're going by the movie posters.

also they gave her this line:

UHURA: And did I not, on multiple occasions, demonstrate an exceptional aural sensitivity, and I quote, "an unparalleled ability to identify sonic anomalies in subspace transmissions tests?"

which is excellent world-building about communications-officers, if you care for that sort of thing. and it provides a starting point for an argument about how listening to a universe (famed quiet due to the lack of material through which sound can travel) is essential to understanding it---an idea that can be further extrapolated via sci-fi regarding things like: listening to gravitational waves if we record them right; or working on the idea that all matter is but a vibration in a quantum field; or, from a more cultural concern, the implication that it is absurd to think you can travel to an alien world and not bring someone with an "exceptional aural sensitivity" who can facilitate an exchange of language and, thereby, meaning.

[intersexbookclub]

Discussion Summary: The Trans Space Octopus Congregation

We met on April 26, 2024 to talk about the 2019 short story collection The Trans Space Octopus Congregation by intersex author Bogi Takács. We selected this book after we read eir more recent book, Power to Yield, because we loved Power to Yield and wanted more! 😀

Overall reactions:

Vigo: I read the first seventeen (out of 23) stories, and enjoyed them all. 

Cirdore: it was interesting. I’m used to anthologies being different authors, rather than one author. I liked the story at the beginning with the octopuses I would rate the book favourably, but didn't finish it so don't feel I can rate it.

Elizabeth: this feels like a pretty typical short story collection. It’s a genre that isn’t my cup of tea, I find it very jarring to stop/start each story: it breaks my immersion. For me, the book felt standard for its genre. I didn’t finish the book and was overwhelmed by the number of stories. Of what I read, I actively disliked some stories and didn’t love any. Would rate as 3 stars: fine but not great.

Michelle: I got about 70% through it, it had a grimier and more pessimistic vibe than Bogi’s other work. I’d rate it 3.75 out of 5, it was pretty good, but it didn't hit as hard as Power to Yield, which I’d give a 5/5.

Intersex content

Though we went hunting for explicit intersex representation, there wasn’t any. There was some implicit intersex representation, but we were disappointed at how rare it was.

The story “To rebalance the body” seemed to have intersex stuff, whereas “Three Partitions” was more implied. The doctor scene in “To rebalance the body” had a medical gaze that felt very familiar to us. We appreciated that the doctor didn’t ask prurient questions about the character's gender/sex.

We joked about how we should have a bingo chart for “intersex people like sea creatures” and “intersex people like plants”.

Everyone in the call who had read Takács’ more recent book Power To Yield kept comparing this book to it. The consensus was that Power to Yield was a much stronger work, which also has very clear and powerful intersex theming. Michelle pointed out Power to Yield had more connective themes, and more of a hopeful vibe.

Elizabeth was annoyed that this book won a Lambda Literary Award while Power to Yield didn’t even get a nomination. Ze wondered if depressing books are more likely to get awards.

Our consensus was that if you’re looking for a book with intersex representation/themes, this book will disappoint you. You might still want to get it as a way to support an intersex author, but don’t expect it to be an “intersex book”.

What we liked

We all agreed the disability theming was well done. The explicit BDSM theming was also appreciated: presenting aftercare as cookies was really cute. Michelle pointed out Takacs is good at depicting alternate relationship styles. BDSM gets sensationalized a lot so it's nice to see a warm approach! Also strong ace vibes!

Michelle liked the blending of magic and science in a way that was casual and intriguing, such as the use of AI/ML in the story “Forestspirit, forestspirit”. Xe liked they were so inspired by actual science articles, and reminded of how tumblr people are talking about treating AI like the fae. Xe noted a theme of characters with excessive magic.

Elizabeth and Vigo liked when there were connections to the book Power To Yield. Elizabeth also liked the greeting “may you fill your niche”.

Cirdore appreciated the author had a content warning list, and noted how it was interesting to see the CW list as a way to see the themes e.g. colonialism.

Michelle pointed out that, compared to golden/silver age sci-fi, Bogi’s writing is a lot more postmodern & postcolonial. It’s invigorating to see how much representation ey packed into eir books. For xem: “even when story didn't land at least I'm getting a really vibrant cast”.

Michelle also liked how the idea of transcending gender was played with. Overall, xe preferred the stories with more gender joy, which often had gender as a more incidental part of the story, such as “Subordinate set of principles”.

Favourite stories

"To rebalance the body". It was one of Michelle’s favourites, as well as Cirdore’s.

“Good people in a small space” was Cirdore’s favourite and Michelle also praised it. Per Michelle: “ I think everybody here has done the look around a room and being like "where's the nearest queer person?"” Vigo said they didn’t really follow the story but they really dug the characters.

“Toward the Luminous Towers”. Michelle brought up that it “was heartbreaking, it was brutal, reminds me of Isabel Fall's Attack Helicopter story but arguably a better version of it. This story was making a comment about disability being weaponized, here the disability was turned literally into a weapon and it was interesting.” Cirdore was reminded of All Quiet on the Western Front.

“Given Sufficient Desperation” - Elizabeth and Vigo noted it as a prequel to the story “The First Interspecies Solidarity Parade And Fair” from Power to Yield, and liked the connection to that story, even if this story was really sad.

“Forestspirit, forestspirit” - Michelle and Vigo praised the blend of hard sci-fi with fantasy themes.

"Subordinate set of principles" were also mentioned positively. Vigo praised it as a fun story that was full of vivid descriptions of things were pretty yucky, and made for a fun reversal/play on early sci-fi!

The bone motorcycle story (“Wind-Lashed Vehicles of Bone”) was also praised by Michelle.

What we struggled with

We all agreed the book would have benefited from a better ordering of the stories. Michelle wanted the stories to have been clustered or setting. Elizabeth and Cirdore both complained a lack of flow from story to story. Michelle pointed out that stories in an anthology should feel like a playlist: they should echo each other. We all agreed this book didn’t pull that off.

We don’t expect people to finish the books we pick for the book club, but normally at least some people manage to finish a given reading. This book was unusual in that nobody finished it, and the lack of flow and momentum in the story order was seen as a contributing factor.

The darker tone of the book (especially compared to Power to Yield) made it harder for Michelle and Elizabeth to engage with it. Michelle didn’t like how pessimistic it was.

Michelle brought up the “For Your Optimal Hookboarding Experience” story as a “a real nothingburger story”. Cirdore thought the point had been the more recent trauma, but wasn’t sure.

Mixed reactions

The story “To rebalance the body” had a line about slavery that Cirdore had a negative reaction to. Michelle interpreted it as a consensual BDSM thing, and we talked about how vital it is to have clear consent in a BDSM slavery fantasy.

The Jewish content got mixed reactions. Some of it was hard for us as non-Jews to follow. Cirdore couldn’t reliably tell when an unfamiliar term was a Jewish thing vs a sci-fi creation. Elizabeth found “This Secular Technology” really hard to follow. Michelle found it interesting to see actual kabbalah represented by a Jew in scifi, since it tends to get exoticized.

While Michelle liked “Unifications”, Cirdore felt it ended abruptly. The two talked about the occult themes in the story. Michelle pointed out “it's an inversion of the thing about blood libel. Occult stuff tends to follow Christianity really strongly and can be really antisemitic, I think it's an inversion of stealing and eating Christian children.”

Michelle wanted more Lovecraftian horror. Building-based horror appeals to xer, and found it compelling but didn't go as far as it could have. Elizabeth is not a horror fan, so was not as enthused on this.

Cirdore did not like "Increasing Policy Visibility", sharing that “I know what ey was trying to say but I still didn't like it. I’m not a fan of the police.” Michelle said it didn’t hit for xer either, didn’t like the police collaboration, but was more forgiving in that “I get it, we all gotta survive.” Vigo liked the story: it had neopronouns, frustration, and a sardonic wit that they dug.

Michelle, Cirdore, and Elizabeth all agreed that “Oracle of DARPA” was hard to follow and didn't really land. But it landed for Vigo! For Vigo, it was a short and funny story.

Overall thoughts

Our reactions to the book were mixed. This book may not be everybody’s cup of tea: it’s the kind of short story collection that is best appreciated by people who like short story collections. The pessimistic, grimy, horror-adjacent feel will appeal to people who dig that atmosphere. There is not much intersex theming, and it’s rather implicit when it does show up. Overall, we felt that Takács’ more recent book, Power to Yield, was a stronger work which will appeal to a wider audience while also providing exemplary intersex theming.

[the-blue-eyed-firebender]

Hi!

Have I ever told you this? (Probably! But I'll say it again, ha) It's been an absolute treat reading your Royai fics. Thank you for joining this fandom!

What are your inspirations? 😃 In terms of writing style, but also ideas, etc. Please indulge us all, and please do geek out about your writing process too!

I always love learning about how fan fic writers work and write!

Thank you, and I hope you have a lovely day~

Hey there!

You are so kind. It's hard to put into words how much it means to have had such a lovely reception from the FMA fandom. I used to write a lot when I was a kid, but eventually stopped due to some unfortunate and painful circumstances. Writing for this fandom over the last couple of months has been an incredible journey. It has healed some very intrinsic parts of me that I’d forgotten were wounded, and I have written more in the last few months than I have in 15+ years.

So, first and foremost, thank YOU.

Inspirations: I've always been a lover of fantasy and science fiction. My very first fandom was Star Wars, followed shortly thereafter by Avatar: The Last Airbender. Recently, I've become a huge Sarah J. Maas fan (I read ALL of her books in the year 2023 - minus the new one that came out in January). I've also enjoyed Suzanne Collins and Leigh Bardugo (particularly her Six of Crows duology).

But really, I just love stories. I love adventure, magic, and romance. I look for complex characters, vibrant worlds, strong magic systems, and rich backstories. My favorites always involve women who embody strength (mental, physical, and emotional), capable leadership, and femininity. Characters who are equal parts war-like and compassionate, fearsome yet soft.

But my very best inspiration comes from real-life: my sweet husband. It's going to sound silly, but I feel like I write about true love because I've experienced it. This guy was 100% written by a woman (lol). He's read everything I've written, and provides the most wonderful feedback and encouragement.

As far as style/process, I feel like I am still developing it? Haha! It's only been a minute since I got back into writing. But it usually starts with daydreaming to music (often songs without lyrics; Secession Studies is a favorite), typically while I'm in the car. With my first FMA fic, The Counteroffer, I was listening to "Beautiful Things" by Benson Boone on repeat. Something about the way he sings "Please stay / I want you, I need you, oh God" really set the tone for that story. That, combined with inspiration from the infamous Chapter 54 of A Court of Mist and Fury.

There's usually an moment or a line of dialogue that pops into my brain first (for The Counteroffer, it was Hawkeye lifting the discharge paperwork to find Mustang has also given her an unsigned marriage certificate). I write that bit, then the rest of the story sort of fills in around it. I write in disjointed fragments, adding chunks here and there and then connecting them together. Sometimes I shuffle things around, moving chunks to different locations in the story to see how it changes the flow.

Beginnings, endings, and titles are usually the hardest for me to come up with.

And here's a few of my own patterns that I've started to notice:

I love stories that read with a poetic beat to them (I think the best example of this in my own work is Hourglass).

I use line breaks for emphasis a lot.

I am intentional about keeping things concise but impactful. When it comes to word count, my personal rule is quality > quantity, always.

I try not to use "said/says" without other descriptive words.

If a portion of the story is dialogue driven, I'll read it aloud to make sure it actually flows like real conversation.

I often drop "and" from sentences when I feel like it messes with the poetic flow ("She became familiar with the space between heartbeats, the squeeze of the trigger, the wet sound of a bullet finding its mark." - Hourglass).

In the same vein, I use a sort of "rule of threes" quite a bit. I break sentences into three parts, offer three descriptions of a character's observation/sensation/emotion, repeat the same phrase three times, etc. (Oh look, I've done it again.)

I write in third person, present tense, always from the perspective of one character at a time. I feel like this puts myself and the reader right in the middle of the action, as it's happening. I dive deep into the primary character's thoughts and senses, both internal and external.

I re-read/re-watch the original content (i.e. FMAB, the manga) often, even if it's just in small parts. It keeps me grounded to who these characters are, and prevents me from going OOC. It's so easy to lose track of characterization if it's been too long since I watched an episode or read a chapter.

Hoo boy this got long. Thanks so much for the delightful ask! It was a lot of fun to dive into my own writing process and habits.

[volleypearlfan]

The original version of Ready Jet Go

Ready Jet Go was actually much different when Craig Bartlett first came up with the idea for it. In this video, he talked about how Ready Jet Go was originally called Lenny and Nate, and was developed in the early 2000s.

"I was like, 'alright, here's the pitch, how about two friends, one of them's an alien, he's from outer space.' And that was the kernel of it, and that show was called 'Lenny and Nate.' That was my pitch, and Lenny was the Jet character and Nate was the Sean character [...] little bit more of a kind of weird town, and the idea was the town is so weird that everybody accepted Lenny as a local, and the same thing I do with Jet, like Lenny was, he just would employ hiding in plain sight. He didn't care, he was always blabbing that he was from another planet, and then they're all like 'Wow, that kid's hilarious.' And so, that principle of the alien hiding in plain sight, stayed and I said, 'Ok, we're making a PBS show, let's develop it completely different, let's make it about astronomy, and earth science, just like Dinosaur Train is paleontology and earth science. And the original character, the Sean character, was so stubborn he refused to believe that the kid was an alien, and just through the whole series, I thought it would be funny if the alien kid was doing all sorts of outrageous stuff, and the Earth kid was just stubbornly like 'You're just lying, and it's funny, but knock it off.'"

Craig also talked about the show in chatrooms and interviews with Hey Arnold fans.

February 28, 2004 chatroom archive

"I've just delivered a new pilot to CN called "Lenny and Nate""

"Lenny and Nate is about two 8th graders

two friends and the crazy things they do

yeah, middle school is traumatic

Lenny is very weird, Nate is "grounded"

so two halves that make a whole, kinda"

"Nate is the "center"

He's from a large, noisy family

Then his best friend who lives next door

goes to 9th grade and kinda "dumps" him

so then new kid Lenny comes to town and

like that

and there's a girl next door, the sister of Dirk, the 9th grader

who has an unrequited love for Nate

and Lenny kinda likes her, so...

unrequited love triangles!

my fave.

Lenny is very strange

he claims to be from another planet.

So i have high hopes for it

CN seems to like it

that or PW? who knows?"

"Lenny and Nate is really Lenny and Nate and Ronnie (Dirk's little sister)"

"funny that you mention Curly.

becuase [sic] Lenny is a kind of 13 year old Curly

who claims he's from another planet

Lenny comes from Bortron Seven"

Note: PW is Party Wagon, another pilot that Craig Bartlett pitched to Cartoon Network and that actually aired on TV, but was rejected.

March 24, 2004 interview archive

"I've delivered another pilot to Cartoon Network called Lenny and Nate that they're about to test. It's about two eighth-grade friends and the crazy things they do. It's set in the Seattle area once again."

The trademark for The Adventures of Lenny and Nate was filed on April 9, 2004. However, since Cartoon Network rejected it due to a change in management, they abandoned the trademark on March 21, 2006.

January 10, 2005 interview archive

"I finished the "Lenny and Nate" pilot last spring, and they passed on it. Again, it was developed with people who are now gone, and the new people want to develop their own stuff."

There is no concept art of Lenny and Nate online, and the pilot has never surfaced, since it never aired on TV. The Ready Jet Go lore is very interesting! I wonder what it would have been like if Lenny and Nate was picked up as a series.

[bunnyluvx]

genshin as teachers! ♡

featuring: albedo, yanfei, yun jin & zhongli!

summary: what would the genshin characters be like as teachers?

warnings: a little bit of angst on zhongli's part. nothing else!

tags: modern fantasy au | albedo and zhongli are still old men bc i said so | queer and autistic albedo | slice of life | fluff? fluff. | a whole bunch of cuties tbh

a/n: hi everyone!! happy halloween and happy samhain to anyone who is celebrating!! if not then i hope you have a wonderful day! have some headcanons <3

date started: 4:58PM, october 27th, 2024. date finished: 3:50PM, october 31st, 2024.

divider credit: @thecutestgrotto | wc: 2.2k | ao3

albedo ♡

you'd think that because albedo is an alchemist in the game, that i would put him down as a science teacher. not this time around he's not! i see albedo as an art teacher! even though it is only a hobby for him, i really like the image of him passing his admiration for art onto the kids he teaches. i think that his love for the subject would really show in his teaching and captivate his students. he would inspire them to be better artists and when they come to visit him years later, many would tell him that he was the reason why they wanted to be better at art. it always warms his heart to hear that he has influenced the next generation, and it makes him even happier seeing how much they have progressed throughout the years. he definitely keeps up with as many of his older students as he can, follows them on social media and scrolls through their work with pride.

i think that he would teach high school kids, specifically ages 14-16. when he was first getting started with teaching, he did grow a soft spot for grade school children, but with high schoolers, he's able to have conversations with people who have a more in-depth understanding of the world. when they all aren't busy, he likes to talk to them about things that are personal to everyone to understand their thoughts, opinions, feelings and ideas. this is one of many things that he loves about his job, learning more about his students. every individual that he teaches are so fascinating in their own way, and having the opportunity to get to know them all is something that he feels grateful for everyday.

i don't really see him having a special nickname for his students, probably just "students", "class", "kids", etc.

albedo isn't too strict of a teacher, he does have his rules and enforces them accordingly but he isn't uptight necessarily. he allows phones, food, drinks, earbuds/headphones etc in his class as long as they do not become a distraction, but if he notices that anyone isn't paying attention to the lesson because of these things, then he will ask for them to be put away.

a big pet peeve of albedo's is when students don't clean up after themselves. there is no reason for them not to, and he does not have the time to tidy their messes. it typically isn't much of an issue, as many of his kids are respectful of the space they take up and the time they have, but when it does happen, he cannot help but be annoyed.

albedo is very beloved by his pupils. he accommodates all of his students as best as he can, and he does his best to ensure that he is a safe space for his kiddos to come to him whenever they need anything. he is particularly adored by his fellow queer and neurodivergent folk, for they can relate to him at that level. he is happy that his efforts of creating a safe place for the young people that he teaches have paid off, especially for those who are like him. many have called him their favorite teacher because of his detailed teaching style and open-mindedness, and he humbly accepts the honor.

albedo never had an interest in social media until his students started to beg him to download some. he agreed begrudgingly and downloaded a few, and was very rarely active on them until those kids graduated. it was only not long after that he started to become more active. he never really posts, but he does interact with their content and keeps up with them to soak in the pride of their development.

yanfei ♡

yanfei being a government teacher makes the most sense to me. she is very passionate about law, so i feel like being able to pass on that knowledge as to how it all works is something that she would find really fulfilling and exciting.

once again, i see yanfei teaching high school kids, ages 14-16. maybe a little younger, but it's a strong maybe. i feel like she would get along really well with the kids and it would be really fun for her.

i can see yanfei calling her students "lovelies" or "lovely people". i think she really adores her students and wants to make them feel special, so that's how she refers to them outside of all of the basic stuff.

yanfei isn't much of a strict teacher either, she does allow phones, headphones/earbuds, snacks, drinks etc in her classroom as long as it is in moderation. she is a bit stricter than albedo, though, because when the students are working, they are working. no dilly-dallying or distractions, if she catches someone that is getting distracted or straight-up not doing their work, she will remind them to stay on task or to get on task if they aren't. she never sounds mean or anything, she just wants everyone to stay focused.

something that really grinds yanfei's gears is deliberate disobedience. when she asks a student to put something away, and they refuse or even start to speak to her disrespectfully, she will start to lose it. she's pretty good at keeping a level head, she won't yell or rarely fights with her students, but it really tips her over the edge when she asks one of her kiddos to do something kindly and they respond rudely. she didn't do anything to deserve that treatment, so why she receives it sometimes is something that she will never understand. it's something that she's learned to deal with as she has progressed in her career, and it doesn't happen too often, but when it does, it puts her very on-edge.

yanfei is very straightforward in her teaching style. once a lesson has started, it has started and it is uncommon for her to get distracted while she is teaching. a lot of her students like this because it means that they can get their work done swiftly and without any disturbances, and it fills her with pride to know that they are so dedicated to their studies.

just because yanfei likes for her and her kiddos to remain focused during their learning time doesn't mean that she is always so serious. she will converse with the students and laugh with them, and tries to surprise them with fun lessons so that they can stay engaged in what she's teaching them. she'll take selfies with them and follows them on social media, even make tiktoks with them when they are done with their work! while she does take her time on the clock seriously, that doesn't mean that she won't have any fun or bond with her students in the process.

yun jin ♡

music teacher yun jin. need i say more?

i feel like yun jin would teach grade school children. the thought of her singing with the kids and passing her love for music onto them just makes my heart feel all warm and happy eyfbuw.

yun jin calls her students "little ones", "lovelies", maybe other endearing terms. she uses "little ones" the most and it's adorable. her eyes show how much she loves and cares for her students whenever she looks at them.

yun jin is not a very strict teacher, some say that she spoils her students a little bit too much. she brings in snacks, candies, stickers, and makes her lessons as fun for the children as she can!!!! she believes that they deserve all of the rewards in the world for their accomplishments, and maybe she does overdo it sometimes, but that does not mean that she is a pushover. while she does find it difficult to tell her kids no, she knows that it is essential to the classroom environment, so she will be firm with her boundaries, much to the kids' dismay.

as much as she loves to let the kids have fun with all of the different instruments and wants them to be creative, she is still teaching grade school children who aren't always aware of their volume. they get excited, therefore they get loud, and while she is pretty used to it, sometimes all of the instruments being played at the same time with high-pitched screeching small people scratches the chalkboard of her brain. especially if she has asked them to quiet down multiple times, and they don't listen/get louder. her students respect her, so they do try to mind their volume when she asks, but there are days where they aren't as mindful of the noise they're making. there have been times where she has had to leave the room for a few minutes because of how overstimulating it could be, or told the kids to put the instruments away since they weren't adhering to her instruction.

yun jin is the type of teacher who is almost always smiling. she is cheerful around everyone in the workplace, especially around the little ones. doing what she does everyday makes her so happy that she cannot help herself! she adores the children that she teaches with everything that she is. they are all so unique, smart and kind, and she feels so lucky that she gets to help them expand their knowledge about something that is so important in the world.

sometimes, when she is alone in her classroom, she likes to blast rock and roll music. some of the staff have caught her jamming out to it, and to say that they were surprised is an understatement. yun jin is so well-known for enjoying opera that no one would expect her to enjoy rock and roll. i think it would be funnier if the students found out because they would be asking her all sorts of questions and she would just have to laugh it off.

zhongli ♡

this man is a history teacher. he has been alive for many years, therefore he is able to give an accurate, detailed description of history that he will be passing forward, and he can connect with younger generations to understand the modern world.

i don't have any specific ideas for what age group zhongli would teach, because honestly, i feel as though he would be happy teaching any age group. he is so interested to learn more about the world that has come to be that i feel as though it wouldn't matter much to him. no age group in particular really sticks out to me either.

zhongli wouldn't have any special nicknames for his students. just the normal stuff.

zhongli is similar to yanfei, but i imagine that he is a bit more strict than her. not to say that he's extremely hung-up on his rules, but he is very firm about them. he is never disrespectful when he is enforcing the boundaries within his classroom, but he does make it clear that he will not be so easily swayed. i imagine that he may be a bit more loose if he was teaching younger children, but he wouldn't tolerate any misbehavior.

this is a little sad and i don't know how much of a "pet peeve" it can be considered but i think that one of zhongli's pet peeves is when his class isn't listening to him. he knows that he has a tendency to go on long rambles that not everybody understands, but when he feels like his students are straight-up ignoring him, it makes him a little sad. he wants to be able to share his thoughts and stories with the younger people, but when he gets cast to the side like that, he can't help but feel a little down. he corrects himself and gets back to subject if he or any of the students can even remember what he was talking about to begin with, and he does apologize for it, but it still disheartens him.

zhongli is a very fun teacher, i think. he has been doing this for so long that he knows exactly how to keep the students engaged in what he teaches them, and he has also mentally noted every trick in the book that any student has ever used on him, so that if there is a repeat of an event, he knows what's going on and how to respond. he is always willing to try new things on behalf of his kiddos, and he is very open-minded. it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be able to listen to zhongli's stories, so many of his students tune in whenever he starts talking, for they are very interested in hearing about one of plenty tales that he has to tell. he is someone that everybody could learn from, if only to give him the chance.

if zhongli was teaching older children, they would be begging him to get a phone. he never had one before his students began to beg him, plus he figured that he would end up needing one anyways. he didn't use it much at first, but that changed with time. he soon got to using social media, and now does all sorts of fun things on there with his students. he finds it a bit difficult to keep up with the newer trends, but he does his best and his students love him for it.

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