#and i'm sure it was started with harmless fun intentions

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/noirettea/774056835969941504/on-the-new-episode-of-the-emsolation-podcast-the?source=share

I've been excited for this podcast but this is actually so terrifying for me, especially combined with some of the fans' behaviour on sdcc. I wonder if amc is prepared to secure their actors' safety, they didn't seem to be doing very good job last year. I feel like they at least should instruct actors on how to interact with fans. Because Sam and Assad talking about fans giving them their underwear...yeah no. I love that they're so eager and naive but these things can get ugly very fast. There was a fandom where two main actors had to stop sitting next to each other and doing interviews together because of the aggressive rpf shippers who kept analyzing their every single interaction and shamelessly asking them about it. I'd hate if something like that happened in iwtv.

There's a group of Lestat haters that are absolutely psychosexually obsessed with him and I don't get it. The man is nothing like Lestat, he's a shy nerd who loves the books and farming, why anyone would get so viciously fixated on someone like that?

Sorry for venting into your askbox and I understand if you don't wanna talk about it, I feel very dejected about all of this :(

I mean, I wish I could say that I was surprised, anon, but this fandom has pretty clearly got serious boundary issues and a desire to stamp on the social contract that used to make fandoms real communities. I don't know how much of that is a result of the escalation of fan entitlement over the last decade (of which I think personally social media has played an enormous role in), that sense of parasocial attachment, or that certain toxic behaviours (and in fact, behaviours indicative of personality disorders i.e. stalking and harrassment) are not only enabled, but encouraged by groups of fans in a flurry of mob mentality, and that the effect of that enablement and encouragement emboldening some people to actual dangerous or criminal behaviour (the case of the Nicki Minaj stan showing up outside the Dua Lipa stan's house recently springs to mind).

It does seem to be endemic in a lot of fandoms right now, which is kind of nuts, because it's never become an issue like this in fandoms that I've been in before (although it has always been a part of fandom - the stories of peak Beatlemania fandom are genuinely insane), but I think the world's feeling like an increasingly hostile place in general right now, and the internet really has its roots rotting in the soil of it. (I've genuinely been thinking lately that I'll see the death of the internet in my lifetime, if not in the next few years).

But yeah, I don't know. I'm sorry, it's awful, and I'm glad the podcast has made a statement, and seem like they will be deeply filtering the questions Sam sees. Like you, I hope that AMC gets better at protecting the cast too, but for now, all I can say is that I'm really glad he's not on social media.

[darkmatilda]

𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a trip to the amusement park was supposed to be fun. and fun it was — especially the surprise of running into an old friend, seaver. at least, for spencer. because her appearance makes a certain someone start acting…strangely, casting a tense shadow over the rest of the evening.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, trip to the amusement park with morgan and garcia, reader’s wearing heart-shaped sunglasses for the vibe, ashley seaver (but shes not portrayed as a bitch lmao she doesn’t deserve that) reader adopts some random guy like a stray dog off the street, both of them are jealous idiots like omg shut up and kiss already (they almost do lool)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.5k

𝐚/𝐧: request | no idea why it turned out so long i really enjoyed writing the dialogues here <3 marathon masterlist

"Remind me, babygirl, how did we end up here?" Derek asked, walking to the left of Spencer in a tight gray T-shirt and motorcycle sunglasses perched on his nose.

He was, of course, addressing the two women a few steps ahead of them, who were walking arm in arm and chatting so intently that they hadn’t even noticed how far ahead they had gotten. Only his question pulled them out of the giggling trance they had fallen into. It was impressive how, despite being completely focused on each other, they still managed to weave through the hundreds of people gathered that early evening at the amusement park with a model-like stride.

Penelope turned around over her shoulder, adjusting her ponytail.

"Because I wanted to try something new with you," she announced in a tone full of a certain warning — that she expected nothing from them that day but pure fun and, in the end, a tearful thank you for coming up with the idea to go there. "To plant sweet kisses on the foreheads of your inner children because, no offense, you all deserve it. I'm going to win a giant teddy bear. You, handsome, will have the chance to show off at the High Striker. Spencer...well, I'm sure you'll find something for yourself. Maybe they have a little geography quiz corner for especially naughty kids?"

"But geography quizzes are pure pleasure, why would they be for naughty—"

"And you, gorgeous?" she interrupted, turning to the woman right next to her. "Is there anything you'd like to try?"

Her eyes were hidden behind red heart-shaped sunglasses, but even so, Spencer sensed that her gaze landed on him. It frustrated him internally that he couldn't read her intentions or even the intensity of her look through the dark lenses.

"Run Reid over with a go-kart," she replied without hesitation. "then grab some cotton candy."

He sighed.

"With those sunglasses, I can't tell if you're joking or not, so allow me to just ignore you," he suggested.

She slowed her pace slightly, letting him catch up. Meanwhile, Garcia and Morgan beside them had launched into a conversation that somehow slipped past Reid’s attention once he found himself closer to the woman. Her head was tilted ever so slightly, arms folded across her chest, and he could feel the sensation of careful analysis on his profile — oh, he didn’t need to see her whole face to perfectly picture that expression. 

"So you're saying that normally my eyes give away my sarcasm?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"I was more thinking that deadly serious threats coming from a woman in heart-shaped sunglasses have something unsettling about them. I’m staying on high alert."

Her elbow against his ribs. Intended as a jab, but without real hostility, so he felt it more like a light, harmless brush.

"Calling it a threat already," she muttered, wrinkling her nose slightly. "You're so sensitive. All these years in this job and you still haven't gotten used to people trying to kill you?"

"The thing is, I did get used to it," he replied, letting out a short laugh a moment later. "Got used to it very well. But today’s my day off, so... it’d be nice to get a break from it."

He threw the words out without much prior analysis. They weren’t having a deeply intellectual conversation; his mind was relaxed. In fact, he was surprised himself by how good he felt, considering he usually didn’t go to places like this. The sheer number of people around was compensated for by the crisp weather, the noise at a manageable level. What helped the most was focusing on a conversation with just one person, which made all the unpleasant stimuli around him lose their intensity.

In any case, Spencer Reid felt good.

And he certainly didn’t expect his colleague to turn slightly towards him, moving with grace and effortlessly walking backwards, looking as though she was considering something.

"We'll see," she said with a slight shrug. The half of her face not hidden behind the sunglasses looked rather soft.

To Spencer’s surprise, it didn’t strike him as suspicious. It didn’t make him uneasy, or send him spiraling into psychoanalysis over what might be lurking beneath it.

Then suddenly, one corner of her mouth curled upward.

"But not because I feel sorry for you. I'm just having a good day”

And it got better after she got her cotton candy. At least the threat of getting run over by a go-kart had faded into oblivion.

Still, Spencer was about to suggest they start with something else, even beginning to glance around, when he accidentally caught someone’s gaze. It had clearly been fixed on him for a while, as if trying to confirm whether it really was him.

“Spence?”

A surprised voice came from a woman with long blonde hair draped over her shoulders, already making her way toward them.

A slow smile began to form on her lips—one that widened considerably when she spotted Penelope and Morgan as well.

“Hi, guys! Oh my god, I can’t believe this!”

Garcia’s ponytail bounced against her back as she came to a sudden stop, clutching a freshly acquired swirl of yellow cotton candy in both hands.

But she wasn’t the first to speak. It was Derek, arms spreading wide in greeting.

“Seaver, who would’ve thought!”

Running into a former member of their team was a very pleasant surprise. So much so that Spencer even let her hug him in greeting—something he usually tried to avoid. Briefly, over her shoulder, he noticed the woman slowly lifting her heart-shaped sunglasses to rest them atop her head.

Seeing her eyes uncovered for the first time that day, Reid found himself falling headfirst into the trap of her gaze—where he unintentionally held Ashley a second or two too long.

“I’m so happy to see you guys,” she said, pulling back with a smile.

“You here on your own?” Penelope asked. 

“With friends, but they all went on the Ferris wheel. And me and heights—” she waved a hand dismissively.

“Great! I mean—not great that you're scared of heights, but great that it means you can hang with us until they’re back. What do you say?”

“Really? That would be awesome!”

That’s how their little group grew by one. A lively conversation sparked up right away—it had been quite some time since they’d last seen each other. Reid, though genuinely glad about the reunion and curious about her new job, only took part for a moment.

Shortly after, before he even realized what he was doing, he drifted away from the group to fall into step with the woman who still had her heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of her head. She was walking with them, but not quite with them, casually studying a theme park map in one hand, a tuft of pink cotton candy in the other. Technically, she looked focused on it, but Spencer doubted she’d be too upset if he interrupted her a little.

Besides, he needed to ask where the nearest bathroom was.

Before he could open his mouth, she noticed him approaching and gave him a brief, not-so-subtle (and not particularly interested) glance. Then let out a short snort.

“What?” Reid asked.

“What what?”

“What…” he echoed her earlier snort.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t answer right away. After a short pause, she went on.

“Call me nosy,” she said, “but I’m genuinely intrigued. A pretty blonde calling you Spence—who’s not JJ. Something going on there? Or used to?”

Completely caught off guard, Spencer blinked twice.

“Seaver?” he asked unintelligently.

And he already knew what was coming.

“No, Marilyn Monroe—”

“That was seriously a bit nosy.”

“I’m taking that as confirmation.”

“No-” he started, but immediately cut himself off. First of all, maybe, just maybe, a long time ago, something had happened on his end, but not enough for it to matter in this moment. Second of all, even if it had, he wasn’t about to explain himself for her curiosity. He shrugged. “Not seriously. It’s just Ashley. You should recognize her. She was with the BAU for a while.”

She shook her head.

“First time I’ve seen her.”

“I’m sure you’ve met her before.”

He felt mildly irritated by her bold stance. Because as he said, he was sure that they’d worked together on a case at least once. Of course, they hadn’t been close, as evidenced by the fact that Seaver greeted her with a mere hi, skipping any hugs. Which Spencer wasn’t surprised by at all. Her resting face and overall aura weren’t exactly inviting for hugs. Well, for most people. For the rest, sure, but in the way that beautiful, poisonous fruits tempt you to taste them.

“I must’ve just not remembered her face,” she replied dismissively. Then suddenly, she looked at him, her brows furrowed slightly in thought. He couldn’t tell whether it was genuine or fake. “Oh, wait, I think I remember now, when you mentioned her name. Ashley Seaver. She’s that daughter of the serial killer who helped you guys with the investigation.”

Spencer wanted to say something, just to interrupt her, but couldn't decide on the right words, so an unidentified sound escaped his mouth instead. She had said it so loudly that he immediately turned around to see if the woman they were talking about had overheard. He wasn’t even sure how she knew about it, but he didn’t want Seaver to think he had casually shared her past behind her back in an amusement park.

“You didn’t have to add that,” he said defensively.

“I didn’t? So, it’s not true? She’s not—”

Anticipating what she was about to say, he looked around desperately, unsure how to shut her up. A very simple idea popped into his head, one that didn’t require any props, but it was so absurd that he dismissed it immediately. Then, he thought of something else—he reached for the cotton candy in her hand, tore off a piece, and shoved it into her mouth, brushing his fingers against her lower lip.

She swallowed the sweet because, well, she didn’t have much of a choice. Spencer, watching her do so, found himself pondering what quote he might put on his gravestone.

“I’ll run you over with that go-kart,” she said with unsettling calm.

The sunglasses no longer covered her eyes, so he could clearly tell she wasn’t joking.

*

“Ooh, what if we tried competing in pairs?” Penelope suddenly suggested, clapping her hands, already excited by the idea.

Then she turned toward them, her gaze landing first on her own obvious partner (Morgan, of course), and then shifting to the remaining three—an uneven number.

The remaining trio also looked at one another. To make the situation painfully sitcom-like in the most awkward way, Spencer happened to be standing directly between the two women, whose heads turned toward him in perfectly synchronized motion. Then, toward each other. In silence.

“I don’t have to join,” Seaver broke the silence with a light shrug. “I mean, you all came here together, and I’m just waiting for my friends.”

“Or you could just go as a trio,” Derek suggested with a casual hand gesture. Then he threw a quick glance at Garcia. “Might actually make the teams a little more balanced.”

His gaze drifted to the woman in heart-shaped sunglasses, subconsciously sensing that if he said it out loud, she’d probably back him up—what with her unwavering belief that she could do anything better on her own.

But she wasn’t looking at any of them. Her eyes were fixed on some point in the distance as she lowered her sunglasses slightly down her nose. Combined with a brief, beckoning wave of her hand, it had such a hypnotic effect that Reid, entranced, didn’t even realize she was actually calling someone until a completely random guy appeared in front of them—a guy wearing a cap that suggested he worked at the amusement park.

He walked over with a step so light it was as if he were gliding, his dopey gaze locked on the woman who had summoned him.

“Are you off your shift?” she asked, arching a brow at his cap.

Spencer exchanged a confused glance with the rest of his friends. Derek’s mouth was pulled into a crooked grin, like he couldn’t wait to see where this was going—and was clearly entertained. Spencer, personally, was not.

“Yeah, like, five minutes ago,” the guy replied, swallowing hard. “Oh.” He looked up at the brim of his cap and quickly took it off. 

“Great,” the woman muttered, with absolutely no genuine enthusiasm in her voice. “You’ll be my partner, then.”

Morgan couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. The other women looked amused too, and Ashley was honestly a little impressed by how effortlessly she wrapped a complete stranger around her finger. It was obvious the guy wasn’t going to object.

Spencer didn’t find it impressive. He found it terrifying—but what did he know?

Watching the park employee drop his cap and awkwardly bend to pick it up, Spencer let out a sarcastic huff—directed not at the guy, but at the woman.

“Good luck winning, then,” he muttered in her direction, leaning in just enough so it’d be for her ears only.

Completely unfazed, she took off her sunglasses and hooked them onto the neckline of her top—which, of course, lowered slightly. She didn’t notice. She wasn’t looking there.

She was slowly turning her gaze toward Reid.

“After I kissed you, you acted like you were having a stroke for three days,” she noted, her voice quiet but unmistakably clear. “So try to be understanding with my new partner.”

She gave his shoulder a pat after saying that and walked off first to join the ring toss game.

And as Reid watched her go, a very, very treacherous warmth crept into his cheeks.

*

Maybe he should be more understanding of her new partner (Steve, as it turned out) (a genuinely nice guy, as it also turned out).

The combination of his knowledge of every game they tried and the demon of competition that seemed to possess her body (she was still merciful to Morgan and Garcia, but he and Seaver had no hope of anything more than being brutally chewed up and spat out) meant they won every single round.

And well, Spencer had originally planned to treat the whole thing as a friendly pastime where everyone ends up feeling like a winner—because hey, they were all clearly having a great time together—but he couldn’t quite swallow the bitter aftertaste of watching Steve hand her the massive duck-pond prize: a stuffed bear so huge that when she hugged it, it folded in half, and as she walked away, it looked like she was dragging an unconscious, fluffy body behind her.

“Spencer, what about getting something to drink?” Seaver’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He turned to her, her question reaching him with a slight delay. He noticed she had mentioned only his name—so she meant…just the two of them.

He didn’t really want to split off from the friends he came with, but he glanced over at Garcia and Morgan, currently locked in an intense battle with the claw machine, and at the other pair…who were, apparently, talking. If you could call it that.

Steve was saying something, a little nervously, with shy hand gestures, while the sunglasses were back on her nose and it was hard to tell if she was even listening.

But Spencer knew she was—he recognized the tilt of her head, ever so slightly to the side. She looked the same way earlier, when he had been explaining something to her just after they’d arrived at the amusement park.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” he replied after a moment of silence.

As they walked away, he caught a glimpse of the heart-shaped-sunglasses face subtly turning in their direction.

It seemed like Ashley wanted to bring something up, but she stayed quiet until they had walked off and bought brightly colored lemonades in clear cups.

“Your friend is…”

Spencer let out a quiet sigh, already knowing where this was going. It’s not like she’d been openly rude to her, but she had ignored her with a certain…passion.

“Annoying?” he suggested.

 “Intense,” Seaver finished at the same time, giving him a slight smile. Spencer raised his eyebrows, surprised. “She has a bit of a thing for competition, right?”

“I think it’s more about proving she’s the best of the best in every possible field,” Spencer muttered under his breath, not even sure if his colleague had heard him.

She took a sip of her drink through a straw. She seemed slightly amused.

 “And above all, better than me. She didn’t really like the fact that we ended up on the same team. I mean, you and me.”

Reid even stopped walking for a moment, completely failing to grasp her logic.

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” he said. They were nearing the rest of the group again—he saw the subject of their conversation standing with her back turned toward them. “If I were with her, she couldn’t compete with me or prove that I suck, which she just loves to do,” he added with a snort.

“Oh, I’m not saying she wanted to be with you,” Seaver corrected, and Spencer looked at her in confusion, because in his reasoning, that’s exactly what she had just said. But she shook her head. “I’m just saying she doesn’t like that you ended up with me. Oh, look, my friends are back. Time for me to go.”

She raised her hand to wave goodbye but hesitated for a second, her gaze drifting to the side as she gently bit her lip. Then, carefully not to spill her lemonade, she gave him a light hug. Over her shoulder, past the loose blonde hair falling across it, Spencer met someone’s gaze—one so intense that, if it weren’t restrained by sunglasses, it might have set something on fire.

Once again, he let it take hold of him, and once again it caused him to hold onto Ashley a moment too long, not breaking eye contact with the woman.

At some point, she took a visible breath, after which her posture relaxed into something resembling indifference, and she turned back to her new companion.

Spencer remembered he was holding a cup in his hand. Taking a sip of the lemonade, he thought to himself that this whole situation was really starting to mess with his head.

*

“What a shame Steve had to leave,” Spencer said.

They’d been standing in line for the Ferris wheel for a while now—since dusk was falling, the ride promised to be particularly scenic, and quite a lot of people had signed up for it. Each gondola could only hold two people, so the four of them had played a particularly intense round of rock-paper-scissors, in which Morgan was clearly cheating. But when Reid pointed it out, he got yelled at, since apparently, according to the others, it was impossible to cheat at rock-paper-scissors.

The woman stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. Quite close—something the line required of them—yet a visible distance had still opened up between them. They were talking, but it felt more like an exchange of cold updates, so he’d rather just stay quiet, not really sure why that was.

“Who?” she asked.

 “Oh, don’t pretend,” Spencer rolled his eyes, glancing at her with a scoff.

She responded with a dismissive shrug, which in turn drew a grimace from him.

“Don’t try to tell me you don’t even remember his name. You two were having such a great time together.”

“Why do you care so much whether I remember the name of some random guy or not?”

“He won you a teddy bear…wait, what did you do with that bear?”

He had only just noticed the giant stuffed animal had completely vanished and gave her a suspicious look.

Her tired sigh, her eyes rolling upward.

“I doused it in gasoline and danced an occult ritual around the bonfire it created I GAVE IT TO SOME LITTLE GIRL what else was I supposed to do with it?”

Her voice had the sting of a bite, and Spencer quickly backed off—God, he had only been asking. 

“I don’t know, take it home maybe,” he mumbled the suggestion, which she dismissed with nothing more than a mocking snort.

Their turn to board the yellow gondola came. It had a single long bench inside. He let her go first, and in silence she took a seat right in the middle, rather than sliding into a corner. Which meant he had no choice but to sit so close their shoulders almost touched.

"What a shame your friend Ashley had to leave," she said, crossing one leg over the other and keeping her gaze firmly away from him.

There was sarcasm in her voice. The kind of sarcasm that made Reid pause, openly studying her profile, analyzing it the way only he could. Slowly, he drew in a breath, something in his mind starting to click into place.

"I think so too," he said with a small nod.

"Obviously you do," she replied flatly, her words carrying a cool breeze of indifference.

He rested his elbow on the back of their seat so he could stay turned toward her. Her posture remained straight—she always took up a bit more space than she physically needed—there was an alluring aura around her, a boundary over which one could lose their senses, unless they were immune. Spencer considered himself to be.

“I think I know why you’re more unbearable than usual today,” he began, swallowing. She didn’t notice—she wasn’t looking at him. Not because she felt intimidated or anything like that, but simply because her gaze was something one had to earn.

“Go ahead, enlighten me.”

“You didn’t like Seaver being there.”

She turned her head toward him and even pushed her glasses up to the top of her head. Spencer slightly tensed his shoulders—this had a stronger effect than he’d expected.

“You really think that the addition of someone I’ve never interacted with, whose face I wouldn’t even recognize in a crowd, could seriously affect my mood? That’s something only unhappy people do.”

The Ferris wheel started moving, lifting them slowly, and Spencer had no intention of backing down from his theory. In fact, with each passing moment, he felt even more certain of it.

“That’s exactly what I think,” he said. “Because it meant less attention was on you.”

“Less attention on me?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “The teddy bear I got was bigger than you.”

"You can’t stand the fact that I was paying you less attention," Reid finally blurted out. "Because, well, you don’t even have to like someone or treat them decently—but you still want them chasing after you. And it’s way more satisfying for you when it’s me doing it, not some random guy looking at you like you’re a masterpiece."

She turned slightly more toward him, their knees brushing—something she didn’t seem to notice. Spencer did, but only registered it fleetingly—his focus was entirely on her expression. Alert, chin tilted subtly in his direction. Her lips had a faint shine to them, likely a sugary trace of cotton candy.

“And what, in your opinion, sets you apart from those random guys?” she asked challengingly.

“I literally just explained that.”

She looked at him for a moment in silence, her expression unreadable—before letting out a laugh. Spencer smiled too, though it was a smile edged with clear irritation, almost mocking her in return. Of course it was easier to laugh him off than actually engage with what he said.

But then his smile faded into a deep inhale as he realized he was staring at her—the way she laughed with her head turned slightly away from him, not looking at him at all—like she was the masterpiece.

“Spencer, please,” she said, rolling her eyes.

She met his gaze again. The only thing that crossed his mind was how humiliating it would be to kiss her then. To give in to the impulse creeping into his nervous system. To act like a complete hypocrite—probably the exact word her lips would leave imprinted on his skin. But he’d only notice it after the cotton candy sweetness had faded. Sweet sweetness. A distinctly human trait—choosing small pleasures and following desire instead of thinking about the long-term consequences of one's actions.

Like the typical human he was, he leaned toward her lips, ready for their meeting—when suddenly the Ferris wheel jolted and came to a stop, their gondola pausing at the very top. They heard a single frightened scream, but neither of them were the type to panic easily. They just glanced around.

Forgetting entirely what had just been about to happen.

Spencer nervously licked his dry lips, taking advantage of the fact that she wasn’t looking at him. He hoped no one had actually fallen out, but if someone had—he was fucking grateful to them, because they’d unknowingly stopped him from doing something incredibly stupid.

But a person falling out was actually the rarest reason for Ferris wheels to stop.

 “It’s most likely a power outage,” he explained.

The woman leaned forward with interest to peek out gently from the structure. And she chose to do so on his side, which meant leaning over him—bringing with it third-degree contact with the scent of her hair and her entire presence. Closing his eyes in exasperation at himself, he continued,

“Could be an engine issue, or a sensor malfunction. Or…could you please just go back to your seat?”

He addressed her firmly, that familiar anxiety flaring in him when someone did something risky right in front of him—even if she had only leaned out slightly. She gave him a somewhat amused look.

“I don’t want to be accused of pushing you on purpose,” he added.

She sighed, but did as he asked. Sat exactly where she had before, while Spencer pressed himself a little deeper into the corner of the seat to increase the distance between them. Thankfully, the machine started moving again shortly after—because if they’d been stuck up there any longer, he would’ve been completely lost.

There was nothing he needed more in that moment than the touch of solid ground beneath his feet.

After a moment, Morgan joined them—along with Garcia, whose legs were visibly trembling.

“Guys, I was sure we were all going to die…”

Everyone collectively allowed her to release the panic that had clearly built up in her chest. He, for one, was grateful for the chance to stay silent for a while.

It was then that he caught, for the last time that evening, the woman’s gaze—lingering and piercing, plainly indicating that she wasn’t stupid and knew exactly what he’d been about to do.

Moment later, she slid her heart shaped sunglasses back down onto her nose.

[chatlote]

Thank you everyone for all your questions. I will be putting an end to this askblog after this post and returning it to its owner. I didn't know what to expect when I created it, certainly not this… but I guess this wasn't such a bad ending.

Without further ado, here's my replies to all the questions I left unanswered. And goodbye.

During these past few years I had a lot of time to think, and I realized I care about being useful, or meaning something to someone. That's why I kept working at the rehab center after settling my debt with them, though I was never all that good at caring for the people there.

In terms of physical objects, I've come to care about my home and possessions quite a bit. I didn't have many things that were my own when I was the detective prince, but this home is something I worked for and gained all through my own efforts.

Ten years is a long time. I pride myself in being resourceful but even then I'm unsure if I would survive that long.

… Though in some ways I feel as if I've been lost these past few years too.

Watch movies, especially the ones that make me think more deeply about myself. I find the journey to find oneself quite inspiring. The original featherman movie trilogy is quite good at that.

I wasn't miserable in those interviews, but well… I suppose I wasn't quite myself in them either.

In relation to your questions: 1-I have picked up writing, mostly of the mystery genre, I have no plans to publish this, especially since some are inspired by confidential cases, but I enjoy it. 2-I have not travelled outside of Kyoto since moving here, I have not been recognized more than a handful of times, I keep my hair up and dress differently so no one connects the dots. 3-Galaxy Studios Park is just a short train trip away, I loved visiting when they had some special rides and attractions dedicated to last year's featherman movie. (Not that the movie was that good, but it was still fun. The wait for the rides was a nightmare, though.) 4-Yes. I enjoy no longer being in the public eye. It's freeing being allowed to be myself, even if I'm still figuring out who 'myself' is. 5-No pets, but have considered getting them... now that Akira is here (and seems intent on staying) I will have to discuss it with him.

I'm in a Reddit thread for ARG's, they are intriguing, and harmless, but still exciting to try to solve. Unfortunately, I can't participate in many due to parts of the mysteries being related to real world locations.

I think they are nonsense, no one's fate should be decided by another, much less by pieces of paper, they are also obviously just vague enough so that it applies to anyone. Still, I know Akira likes that sort of thing, so I try to not...judge too much.

Taiyaki, I wasn't the biggest fan before, but there's a vendor near where I live, I especially enjoy the matcha flavor since it's not overly sweet.

Boring. I'm stuck in bed because I have a leech clinging onto me, otherwise, I suppose it's an alright day. If you meant yesterday… it was stressful, but it worked out.

I saw this ask before deciding to leave because I realized if I left him to his own devices he would blow up half the city trying to find my apartment.

Thank you, I think. I just wear them when I'm at my laptop, the blue light filter is helpful.

I got worried of what he would do once he came to the town I've started calling my new home. Can you blame me?

It was... alright. It still feels a bit surreal, I'm still not sure if this is happening or a dream. But it's nice to know he still cares.

... Yes. It seems as if you are correct.

I always recommend the classics of the mystery genre, Conan Doyle and Edogawa Ranpo. But... Well, if you like rivalries between thieves and detectives I recommend checking out Arsène Lupin versus Herlock Sholmes.

...Not my type of song.

Turns out he is not as harmless as I previously thought.

I very much doubt that anyone else from the queer community has a similar relationship to ours. If so, my condolences.

I don't think I will be waking up alone ever again. But while I was on my own… I just looked for the small things I still cared about. Working on a rehab center helped. You get a lot of coworkers that are constantly mentioning that as long as you keep going, you will find a purpose in your life again.

And so I have.

---

That was all the questions I received. I will be logging off now permanently.

Thank you again. I was angry at first of how several of you got Akira even more pumped up into finding me, but I not understand your intentions were not malicious ones. We have a lot to talk about still, but I am... looking forward to it, I think.

Goodbye. Goro Akechi, former detective prince.

[koolades-world]

Hello! When you have time can you please do headcanons on the brothers (and side characters) reacting to MC pranking them by getting a brussel sprout, dipping it in chocolate and nuts, then wrapping it into a ferrero rocher covering and then going so far as to reseal the box? I think this would be really funny lol

hiii!! yes omg of course

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE (i think i timed this right? if not, i'm close bc it's still your birthday week lol) y'all go wish atom happy bday! literally so many of my bangers are a request she made. hope you had a wonderful birthday <3333

enjoy <3

Mc pranks everyone with fake Ferrero Rochers

Lucifer

he actually automatically assumes the anti-lucifer league put you up to this

you manage to dodge all liability for something you were totally responsible for

take this secret to the grave lest you suffer the wrath of lucifer haha

Mammon

he loves you so much, so he pretends to enjoy it since he assumes it's just an odd human thing

however afterwards, he immediately throws it away

you might casually mention it again in the future and then he realizes it was a prank all along

Levi

may or may not burst into tears because he thinks you hate him and that's why you gave it to him

please buy him a regular tray and show him it was just a prank

if you really love him, eat one yourself to show how sorry you are

Satan

if you were anyone else, there's no way you'd still be alive

seems the most likely to spit it out, but laughs it off with you

he might play a harmless prank on you back and hopes it's not the start of some mini war

Asmo

will outright ask you if you were being serious or not

that intense look in his eyes gets you to confess

as payback, he has you act as his mannequin for the evening to test out fun outfits and makeup looks on

Beel

he's the wrong one to prank lmao

he will deadpan eat them, tell you how oddly delicious and different they tasted

will ask for more. prank: failed

Belphie

he sees right through your shit

he will eat one, but will immediately realize what you did

won't retaliate but will give you the meanest stink eye ever

Diavolo

will happily eat it

he thinks it's just a human thing and will make sure to let you know he enjoyed it

it seems as if he actually liked it! is this success or not?

Barbatos

that 'candy' will not enter his mouth once

it's barbatos, he saw this coming and won't fall for it

in fact, you somehow end up eating it. well played barb, well played

Simeon

would for sure pretend to enjoy it

he doesn't want to hurt your feelings after all, since it was a gift

unless you ever admit to what you did, he will never say anything about it

Luke

like father like son

he assumes it was a well intentioned gift and will take the fact that he hated it to the grave

honestly maybe just don't do this to him it feels cruel haha

Solomon

he seems like he'd actually enjoy it

just convince him that it's just how they are now and he's been away from the human world for too long

however, this will all go out the window as soon as he buys himself a tray haha

Mephisto

he feels so betrayed haha

here he was, thinking you'd gone out of your way to give him a gift

contemplates retaliation, but decides not to because he deems himself a gentleman

Thirteen

she doesn't contemplate retaliation

her plan had already begun to moment she took a bite of your monstrosity haha

you may want to watch your back from now on, but she'll probably get you anyways

Raphael 

i feel like he would at first be confused

but then, he's going to threaten you with his spear(s)

run for you life mc!

[eveninggstar]

casual ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x fwb!reader

15.07.24

୨ৎAfter ending a previous relationship, you weren't looking for anything serious, preferring a casual fling if the opportunity arose. But Lando changes everything. Despite your intentions, you find yourselves acting more like a couple, leading to emotional confusion and misunderstandings. As you navigate the thin line between friends and lovers, your casual arrangement becomes increasingly complicated.

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages

slight mention of fem!receiving oral

The rhythmic hum of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, signalling another typical day at the racetrack. For you, however, today was anything but typical. Standing by the paddock, you glanced around, searching for a familiar face. You werent a formula one fan, you had just been invited by a close friend. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Lando, his trademark grin lighting up his face as he chatted with his team.

You had met Lando through mutual friends a few months back, and what started as harmless flirting quickly turned into something more… casual. Neither of you was looking for anything serious, and the arrangement suited both of you perfectly. He was busy travelling the world for work, and you were getting over a recent break up and wanted a distraction for a while. It was fun, exciting, and free from the complications of a traditional relationship.

Lando caught your eye from across the paddock and flashed you a quick, knowing smile before returning his attention to the conversation. You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. The arrangement was simple: no strings attached, no expectations, no exclusivity, just pure enjoyment. And it was working—at least for now.

As the race weekend kicked off, you found yourself immersed in the excitement and chaos of it all. The roar of the cars speeding around the track, the cheers of the fans, the intense focus of the teams—it was a world you had quickly grown to love. And having Lando in that world made it all the more thrilling.

When the day's events finally wound down, you made your way to Lando's motorhome, where you had spent countless nights together. He opened the door with a welcoming grin, pulling you inside and into a quick, warm hug. "Hey, you," he said, his voice low and playful. "Missed me?" He placed a short kiss to your temple.

You laughed, shaking your head. "You saw me a few hours ago, Lando." Putting your hands onto his chest, thankfully he had changed since the race.

"Yeah, but it felt like forever," he replied, his tone teasing. He led you to the small but cozy seating area, then letting fatigue take over him as he laid on you and buried him face in your cleavage. "So, how was your day?" His muffled voice vibrated against your cool skin.

"Fun, I love watching you race." you said, taking a sip of your drink. "It's always exciting here."

Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he looked up and rested his chin on you. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I race better when you're here."

You both chatted for a while, discussing the day's events and sharing stories. It felt natural and easy, the way it always did with Lando.

You could hear Lando’s laughter through the door as you approached his apartment. Your heart felt heavy with the weight thinking that there had been another girl over, with the non-exclusive agreement you both had it seemed plausible. Taking a deep breath, you knocked, and moments later, Lando opened the door, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice filled with a warmth that made your resolve waver.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping inside. "Wanna hang out? I was shopping and thought I would drop by." You head echoed with the word 'liar'. You had been shopping, but you just wanted to see Lando.

Lando nodded, but before you could continue, he gestured to his phone. “I’m actually on the phone with Flo. Want to say hi?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Uh, sure.” Seeing as you had never spoken to any of his family members before you were incredibly nervous.

He handed you the phone, and you hesitantly took it, pressing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey! It’s Flo,” came the familiar, cheerful voice. “How are you?”

You felt a rush of relief, grateful for the unexpected distraction. “Hi, Flo. I’m... I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she replied, her tone softening. “Lando talks about you no stop. So its nice to finally meet you, even if it isnt face to face.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, and you glanced at Lando, who was watching you with an encouraging smile. “Yeah, its nice to meet you. He's spoken about you before.”

Flo's voice was filled with excitement. “I, honestly, cant wait to meet you at some point. Maybe at a race?”

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Oh yeah, of course.” You looked up as Lando caught your hand to lead you to the sofa.

“Hey, I've got to go. Ill get Lando to send you my number. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need to talk.”

You handed the phone back to Lando, who took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Flo. Talk to you later.”

On another occasion you and Lando had decided to take a drive to steal a few moments of privacy. The sleek, powerful car purred beneath you as Lando navigated the winding roads, the two of you laughing and talking, enjoying each other's company without the watchful eyes of fans and team members.

Lando turned onto a secluded road, the trees arching overhead to create a canopy that filtered the dying light. He pulled over into a small clearing, switching off the engine and letting the silence envelop you both. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that always seemed to build between you when you were alone together.

Lando reached across the center console, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Come here," he murmured, his voice low and inviting as he patted his lap.

After you maneuvered your way to Lando's lap, you leaned in and your lips meeting his in a slow, tantalizing kiss. It was a dance you had perfected over the months, each touch and caress familiar yet electrifying. As the kiss deepened, Lando's hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire that spread through you with every touch.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back to the passenger seat, his hands firm on your hips. The confined space of the car added an extra layer of intimacy, the closeness amplifying every sensation. You sat there anticipating his next move, your heart racing as Lando's lips travelled down your neck, his hands exploring every inch of you.

"Lando," you breathed, your voice a mixture of desire and urgency. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice husky and filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands slid up your thighs. "Yes," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Yes, please."

Lando's mouth found its way to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. As he moved closer, you gasped, your back arching against the seat. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he continued to explore, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony.

The world outside the car ceased to exist, the only reality the two of you and the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Every touch, every kiss, every bite, brought you closer to the edge, your mind a blur of sensation and emotion. You clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the wave of pleasure.

It was raw and real, a connection that went beyond the physical. As you cried out in ecstasy, your body trembling with release, you couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between you.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something that mirrored your own conflicted emotions. He moved back up to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours as he whispered, "You okay?"

You nodded, your breath still coming in short gasps. "Yeah, I'm... I'm good."

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Good. Because that was... wow."

You laughed softly, the sound a release of tension and emotion. "Yeah, it was."

As you both sat there, the afterglow of the moment settling around you, the question lingered in your mind. Could something so intense, so intimate, really be considered casual? And if it wasn't, what did that mean for you and Lando?

You didn't have the answers, but as you looked into his eyes, you knew you wanted to find out.

Two weeks had passed since that intense evening in the car. The memories of that night had lingered, the question of whether what you and Lando had could still be considered casual haunting your thoughts. The dynamic between you hadn't changed outwardly—you still enjoyed each other's company, flirted, and reveled in the physical connection—but there was an undercurrent of something more, something neither of you had addressed.

You were sitting in your apartment, scrolling through your phone, when a message from Lando popped up.

The drive to Lando's parents house was filled with easy conversation and laughter, the familiar comfort of being with Lando wrapping around you like a warm blanket. As you pulled up to a charming house, nerves fluttered in your stomach. Lando parked the car and turned to you, his eyes filled with reassurance.

"Ready?" he asked, squeezing your hand.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, giving him a brave smile.

Lando's mum, Cisca, greeted you at the door with a warm smile and a hug that immediately put you at ease. She was gracious and welcoming, her enthusiasm for meeting you evident in every word and gesture. The afternoon passed in a blur of conversation, laughter, and delicious food. Cisca regaled you with stories of Lando's childhood, her pride in her son shining through every anecdote.

You found yourself enjoying the day more than you had anticipated, the easy camaraderie making you feel like you were part of something more than just a casual fling, something that you had wanted and pushed to Lando after the first night you shared together. As the sun began to set, you and Lando took a walk along the streets, the gentle sound of the nearby pubs providing a soothing and comedic backdrop.

"Your mum is amazing," you said, slipping your hand into his.

"She likes you," Lando replied, his smile softening his features. "I knew she would." He began to swing your arms.

"Lando," You spoke softly into the night, knowing your next words but had no plan on saying them.

"Yes?" He instantly replied, looking at you sharply like a puppy. You both stopped walking, the moonlight reflecting in both of your eyes.

"I know what you tell your friends." Panic struck through Lando's features, his cheeks turning a shade of red, and his eyes frantically looking anywhere but your eyes.

"I know you said 'no attachment', but-" He attempted to defend himself, yet you didn't hear him.

"And its fine." You smile a bittersweet smile. "Mine call me a loser since I'm just 'a girl you bang on the couch'." You quoted the words you friends claim to have heard in a club the night they met Lando when he was with friends.

"What?" Confusion struck Lando hard, he wanted to claim the absolute opposite, he was just showing off to his friends. But his mouth just bobbed open and closed like a goldfish.

"Do you mind driving me home?" You bittersweet smile remained as you dropped Lando's hand and looked up at him, blaming your slightly watery eyes on the brisk wind.

"No, no problem." Lando's tone of voice was an antithesis of the feeling and the excitement he held earlier.

Two weeks and you found yourself at another diner with Lando's parnets. It had started off well enough. You had dressed to impress, eager to make a good impression on his family (regardless if they knew the placement of yours and Lando's relationship). The restaurant was upscale, the kind of place where you felt the weight of every glance and gesture. Lando had been his usual charming self, but something had shifted when his parents asked about your relationship.

"We're just friends," Lando had said, his tone casual and dismissive. "Nothing intimate."

His words stung, cutting deeper than you had expected. You had managed a tight smile, playing along with the charade, but inside, you felt a rush of bitterness and hurt. To make matters worse, the private moment you and Lando had shared in the bathroom of his apartment earlier now felt like a cheap thrill, devoid of the connection you had been hoping for.

On the car ride home, the silence between you was thick with unspoken tension. Lando glanced at you, his brows furrowed in concern. "You've been quiet," he said, breaking the silence. "What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Just tired," you replied, forcing a smile. "It's been a long day."

Lando reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I noticed you seemed a bit off after dinner. Are you sure you're okay?"

You nodded, looking out the window to avoid his gaze. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind."

He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I wish you'd talk to me. If something's bothering you, I want to know."

You turned to face him, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "Lando, it's fine. Really. I just need some rest."

His eyes searched yours, looking for a crack in your facade. "Alright," he said softly, though his tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced.

As the car rolled to a stop outside your apartment, you felt a sense of relief mixed with the bitterness that had been festering since dinner. You needed space, time to process everything and figure out how to move forward.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Lando leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

You nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

But as you walked up to your apartment, the weight of his words and the reality of your situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You knew you couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. Sooner or later, you would have to confront the truth—both with Lando and with yourself.

A month had passed since you had seen Lando, and silence had settled between you and Lando like an unwelcome guest. You had hoped for more, for the possibility of a real relationship, but the lack of communication had left you feeling uncertain and frustrated.

Unable to bear it any longer, you decided to confront him. You drove to his apartment, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and anticipation. When you arrived, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. A few moments later, Lando opened it, his expression a mixture of surprise and wariness.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let you in. He acted as if nothing was wrong or differnt between the two of you.

You walked past him, your movements tense and deliberate. "We need to talk," you said, your voice edged with the frustration that had been building up over the past weeks.

Lando closed the door and turned to face you, concern etched on his face. "What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "It's hard being casual, Lando. When my favorite bra lives in your dresser. And it's hard being casual when I'm on the phone talking down your sister."

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued, your voice gaining strength with each word. "I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space. I try to be the chill girl, but honestly, I'm not."

Lando's expression shifted from confusion to realization, his eyes softening with understanding. "I didn't know you felt this way," he said quietly.

His words angered you more than it should've. He sounded sincere but in your inner rage you shook your head, the bitterness in your chest bubbling to the surface. "I fucked you in the bathroom before we went to dinner, your parents at the table. You wonder why I'm bitter? Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it. I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't."

A flush of embarrassment and guilt spread across Lando's face, and he looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I hate that I let this drag on so long," you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "Now I hate myself. Hate that I let this drag on so long. You can go to hell."

You stood there, your heart sinking as Lando's frustration bubbled to the surface. His face twisted in a mix of disbelief and defensiveness, and you could see the hurt in his eyes as he struggled to make sense of your accusations.

"Are you serious?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Wait, what do you mean I bragged to my friends?"

Your own emotions were a whirlwind, but you held onto your resolve. "I heard it, Lando," you insisted, your voice trembling slightly. "Your friends were talking about us at the club. They said you bragged about us having sex."

Lando's expression hardened, his brows furrowing deeply as he tried to recall any instance where he might have slipped up. "Ask anyone, I've not bragged about our sex life because I was scared that it would ruin my chances in the future!"

"What do you mean 'chances in the future'?" Your confusion mirrored his frustration now, the situation escalating into a confrontation neither of you had expected.

Lando paced back and forth, his agitation evident in every movement. "I mean," he sighed heavily, stopping in his tracks and meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and resignation, "this isn't how I wanted to tell you."

Your heart sank further, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Tell me what, Lando?"

Lando took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he met your gaze with a blend of vulnerability and regret. "I... I really like you," he began slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Love you even, god! I'm sorry I know you didn't want anything serious. Trust me I respect that, I just couldn't help myself."

The pieces began to click into place, understanding dawning on you as you processed his words. "Really?"

Lando nodded, his expression pained. "I know its selfish, I agreed to the conditions when you made them. Its just hard when you are the most caring, gorgeous, funny girl I've ever met."

Your initial anger softened into a feeling of agreement. "Lando, you should have told me," you said softly, your voice laced with sadness and sympathy. "I feel the same way. Did you not get that in the words I threw at you when I practically busted through the door?" You laughed, Lando joining in.

Silence hung heavy between you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words filling the room. Then, Lando took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "Can we... start over?" He asked quietly, searching his eyes for a sign of hope.

Your gaze softened, as a rapid smile grew on your face. "Only if you'll be my boyfriend."

Lando matched his grin to yours, his eyes filled with hope and love as he looked at you and only you. "Only if I can tell my parents that we're not just friends."

"Only if we're not casual."

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[pokemonshelterstories]

I'm thinking of starting catching pokémon as a hobby! Any tips on doing so safely and ethically before I start my research on the species in my area? It's a catch-and-release type deal as I am sure you know, I don't have the resources to care for too many more than my Breloom here. He's a real cutie and has just the right moves for this, I think!

please don't go out and catch wild pokemon just to release them. while it may seem harmless, remember that being caught is a source of stress for pokemon. this stress can be offset by the benefits provided by being trained, but if you're just going to release them, then you've stressed a pokemon for no reason. remember too that, when you try to catch a pokemon, it generally has two responses: fight back or run away. both of those actions consume energy that pokemon needs to survive. even if a pokemon escapes from being caught, it could be too exhausted to survive.

catching pokemon is a power that comes with a great deal of responsibility on our part. it should be a means toward forming a partnership with a pokemon, not something you do for your own amusement. harassing a wild pokemon without the intent to capture or hunt it is at best unkind and at worst cruel.

if you want to catch and release that badly, find one of those modern safari zones that allows you to "capture" trained pokemon who willingly participate and don't need to worry about fending for themselves. this is not an opportunity for you and your breloom to have fun at the expense of a wild pokemon's wellbeing.

[hannie-dul-set]

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, beomgyu is embarrassing but that's nothing new with my recent works. 1.6k words.

note — inspired by this post. i'm supposed to be studying rn.

everyone in your department knows that choi beomgyu is not to be trusted.

no, it’s not like he scams people with overpriced products on the university buy and sell forum. he doesn’t give you wrong answers during tests to fuck you over. he isn’t seeing multiple people at once behind their backs like a shitty fuckboy, either.

but when choi beomgyu tells you that there’s a buy one take one promo at the coffee shop near campus, you should probably think twice before rallying your friends over because of your shared coffee addiction. it’s the reason why hueningkai showed up to a department party last month wearing a penguin costume when the theme was business-casual. it’s the reason why choi yeonjun sends a string of curses to the group chat bi-weekly because he’s told that there’s a quiz today, only to arrive at an empty classroom.

it’s all harmless. it’s all fun and games and for a good laugh— but nevertheless, everyone knows to think twice before listening to the honeyed words that fall from choi beomgyu’s mouth. the problem is, the bastard is charismatic and he knows it. “he’s weaponizing his pretty face like a motherfucking gun,” you mentioned to soobin one time. so even if people are ware that he’s slimy little bitch that likes to fuck around a lot, they still listen to what he says. even when in doubt.

well, they’re all fucking stupid.

“hey, let’s compare hand sizes!”

and you refuse to be branded as a gullible idiot, too.

“what?”

the sandwich you’re having for lunch suddenly feels dry on your tongue. “gimme your hand,” he insists, and you narrow your eyes at him. what...what the fuck is this bastard trying to do? “i wanna know whose is bigger.”

now, that’s a familiar line. it almost made your heart flutter when he’s batting his eyes at you so expectantly with that pretty face of his from across the cafeteria table, the fingers of his right palm outstretched and ready to catch yours upon your consent.

almost. but there’s no way in hell you’re humoring his dumb ass.

“sure,” you respond. and, after wiping your lips with a napkin, offer out your open palm for him in the air.

his face brightens— a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

beomgyu reaches out for your hand. before he can press his palms against yours, you quickly fold it into a middle finger.

it’s almost funny how his expression quickly tumbles into despair.

“eat shit, motherfucker.”

you clean up your tray and leave your dumbfounded friend behind. you have no idea what his intentions with that was, but you aren’t risking making a fool out of yourself at the suggestion that beomgyu might be trying to (pathetically) hit on you. he’s probably just concocting some more mischief— especially since you’re one of the people he has yet to victimize with his dumb jokes.

so you’re not surprised when he makes another attempt. but what you don’t understand is why he keeps trying to hold your hand.

“booooring. this class is so boring.”

he’s sitting next to you inside the lecture hall. so far, not that out of the ordinary. you do your best to catch up with your professor’s discussion, but from the corner of your eyes you see beomgyu finally giving up and melting his head into the desk, burying his face into his arms. “this sucks,” he muffles, before craning his head and you can feel him staring at you from below. “aren’t you bored?”

“i’m trying to pay attention, beomgyu.”

“pay attention to me,” he whines. “i’m bored. let me scribble on your hand to pass—”

“please shut the fuck up.”

at some point, it’s starting to confuse you more than annoy you. all signs lead to a boy simply trying to get the attention of his crush, but this is choi beomgyu you’re talking about. you just can’t trust him. not even when he always tries to follow you around in the hallways. not even when he drops a warm latte at your desk every 7AM class.

“i know how to do palm reading. do you wanna—”

“i’m not superstitious,” you immediately put up your shield to his spear. “thanks for the coffee.”

you really don’t understand him.

“there was a hit and run incident yesterday. you should hold onto me just to be—”

“red light. let’s go.”

you seriously don’t fucking get him.

“aaaah! i’m falling! grab my hand, i’m falling to my death!”

what the hell is he trying to do?!

“beomgyu, it’s a four-foot deep pool,” you deadpan, face flushed and it’s definitely not just from the heat of the sun. he perishes into the water with a splash. my god, what’s going on with him? you shake your head, trying to ward off an incoming headache. 

really. if this wasn’t beomgyu doing this shit, you’d be a hundred-percent convinced that he’s trying to make a move on you. that he likes you and is trying his stupidest to catch your attention. but it is beomgyu, and everyone knows he can’t be trusted unless you want to be laughed at. being this week’s joke isn’t on your bucket list. so no matter how many more attempts he’s going to make, you will be impenetrable. you will not be fooled.

“hey.”

that is until he shows up all serious in front of your classroom the next week. 

students are pouring out from the door, and you’re a heavy obstacle from their rush to go home because for some reason, choi beomgyu is there— also obstructing the traffic flow in the hallway. 

“what is it now?” you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at the worryingly large bouquet he has in his arms. “are your hands cold? do you want me to hold them to keep you warm?”

“that would be nice,” he replies. you seriously want to hit him. “but, no. that’s not what i’m here for. i decided that it might be best to stop asking for your hand because you might actually punch me this time.” this is a public area, you’d like to remind him. and that dangerously constructed statement of his is eliciting murmurs from the passersby surrounding you. you feel your face flush. 

“if you phrase it like that, people are going to get the wrong idea.”

“let them misunderstand, i don’t really care,” he shrugs. “what i care about is clearing up the misunderstanding between you and me. i don’t think we’ve been on the same page for the past few weeks.”

you furrow your brows. “what are you getting at?”

“taehyun told me that you think i’ve just been fucking around with you,” he says. “and i have to admit that i definitely have nothing to blame but myself and my reputation. but i want to tell you that i have been seriously, seriously serious about you.”

“sure,” you snort. “i definitely trust you, beomgyu.”

he frowns. “dammit, taehyun was right. you really don’t trust me.”

what did he expect? for the past year and a half that you’ve known him, he’s been nothing but unserious and troublesome. beomgyu brings mischief wherever he goes and you don’t want to make a misstep and be caught in that shitstorm— not even when your heart is racing a little too fast for comfort at the moment. not even when those flowers actually look really pretty.

“but i expected this. i’ve come prepared,” beomgyu tells you. what is it this time? you exhale. had he been normal, you might’ve trusted him at his first attempt to shoot his shot with you. “i’ve come to the conclusion that in order to get your trust, i need to stop messing around with everyone. and that begins with being completely, absolutely, unapologetically honest.”

again, this is a public area. people are staring and you’re starting to get a bad feeling.

“i’m in love with you.”

holy shit.

“i’ve been in love with you ever since taehyun introduced us to each other, i think.”

there’s fire somewhere. 

“that was over a year ago!”

that somewhere is your face.

“yeah, and?” he raises a brow. “that means i’ve liked you for over a year. i can do the math. i’m not stupid.” you want to throw yourself into a ditch and die.

“beomgyu, tell me you’re kidding.” not even your hands can fan out the inferno overtaking your face right now. somehow, there’s a lot more people around you than you remember, and while you’re suffering from a sudden onslaught of unprovoked feelings, beomgyu looks relatively unfazed. “you can’t be serious. if you’ve liked me for that long, then why haven’t you done anything until recently?!”

“funny story,” he starts. there is nothing funny about this at all. “i didn’t think i had a chance until soobin hyung told me you thought i was pretty the other week.”

soobin, that fucking rat. 

the context wasn’t even a positive one! you said he was using his pretty face for evil!

“i—” 

like what he’s doing now.

the words get stuck in your throat when you notice that beomgyu actually looks earnest. he’s not smiling or laughing— but patiently waiting for you to say something in response. your mouth is dry. your ribcage is shaking. it doesn’t fucking help that there’s three dozen people watching the scene unfold. couldn’t he have chosen a more appropriate place to pour his fucking heart out?

“you know what, let’s go.”

it’s an act of impulse. you quickly grab him by the hand and lead him away from the crowded hallway with hurried steps. “damn,” he says, trailing from behind you. “i didn’t have to try and convince you this time.”

what’s ironic is that this is the most honest you’ve ever felt of him. his palms are clammy and slipping through your fingers. he’s making jokes, but his desperate squeeze is telling you more than what he’s actually saying. “everyone knows to think twice before listening to me. but everyone also now knows that i’m pretty much in love with you, so that’s a win for me.”

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[realcube]

NEED you to write more for kiyoomi i am BEGGING

SEA STONE ☽｡⋆

synopsis ☀ you're at the beach with sakusa and play a little prank on him!

tags/tws ☀ omi being sassy smh, mentions of drowning, sappyyyy, timeskip but sfw, maybe ooc idk & fluff

wc ☀ 1.4k

you ask sakusa to go to the beach with you and he agrees. it's that simple.

had atsumu or hinata witnessed that, they'd likely think you used some sort of black magic on him or a mind control spell. and in a way, you do have him in an — almost supernatural — trance. he's utterly bewitched by you.

so if going to beach is what it took to see even a glimpse of that pretty smile of yours, it was infinitely worth. although, as one may imagine, he's not a big fan of the beach. sand clinging to body, blistering heat beating down on him, limited space packed with sweaty bodies, amateaur volleyball; it's all just very unpleasant.

but he finds a way to deal with it. he rolls out his towel and umbrella, to protect him from the sun, and settles down with a good book. though he's only partially reading it, he's mostly watching you frolic through the water and mess around with the damp sand. you were so playful and fun, it enchanted him. occasionally you'd run back up to where he is to plant a kiss on his cheek or ask him to reapply sunscreen on your back, that was his favourite part.

you understood sakusa's adversity to the ocean — there's definitely some gross stuff in there — but you just loved swimming too much. gliding through the cool water, the seaweed tickling your skin and waves crashing gently against you. it's a once-in-a-year experience that you had to enjoy, but if sakusa didn't want to do it with you, that was alright, it was already sweet enough that he agreed to come with you. although he never outright said he didn't want to swim, you got that impression from the fact he was wearing an unbuttoned white shirt and matching trousers.

eventually, the sun began to cast an orange glow as it slowly set over the horizon, and many people had packed their things and left by now, so you figure it's about time you and sakusa do the same. as you're walking back towards him, you feel your ring slip off your finger a bit, but you promptly push it back on.

that is, until you have an idea.

a harmless prank, really. you take your ring off and slip it under the material of your top, then you rush over to sakusa with a frantic expression, to which he looks up with immediate concern.

" 'omi! i think i lost my ring in the ocean and i'm not sure what to do! i swear i had it on me when i came over here the las—"

sakusa hastily places his book down and stands up, resting a hand upon your wet shoulder and quickly interjecting, "don't worry, (y/n). we'll find it."

you nod while clutching your hand, your look downwards, which he assumes is out of shame but really you are trying to hide the evil smirk creeping onto your face.

"do you think it may be in the sand?" he asks, collecting the towel off of the ground to wrap up your poor, trembling figure.

you shake your head, "no, it probably slipped off while i was swimming."

sakusa sighs out of his nose. that is exactly what he didn't want to hear. "alright, honey." without another word, he relucantly starts making his way over to the shore, with you following suit.

just as he reaches it, he bites his lip, standing right before where the sea meets the sand, watching intently as the water spills forward against his toes. you stand behind him, snug in the towel, and prompt, "are we gonna look?"

he looks at you over his shoulder, with a dull glint in his eyes. the ocean is just so disgusting, filled with all sorts of creatures, and he loathed getting wet, it was such an annoyance. but seeing your sweet face, knowing your longing for something, what kind of husband would he be if he didn't at least try to help? he'd do anything to stop you from being sad. though he did momentarily consider perhaps just buying another ring.

without any further delay, sakusa puffed out his chest and rolled up his trousers to his knees and hesitantly stepped into the ocean, cringing at the feeling of sand between his toes. the contaminated water making contact with his pristine white trousers also killed him a little, but it's all worth it for you, to see that smile.

speaking off which, once he was knees-deep, he turned around to look and furrowed his brows when he noticed you hadn't entered yet, "(y/n). aren't you going to look with me?"

you shake your head, wearing a cheesy grin on your face that only confuses him more. "it's okay, kiyoomi. i was only kidding about my ring being lost. look, here it is." you pull it out from it's hiding place and slip it back onto your finger, "i just wanted to see if you would get into the water and help me look for it."

sakusa sighed, again. ususally something like this would piss him off, but you only amused him. "of course i would, (y/n). i'd do anything for you, i thought you knew that."

you blush a tad at your husband's kind words, then motion for him to come out of the water. "you're the best, omi. but you can get out of the water now."

he blinks, looking down at his feet sunk into the sand, "this isn't as bad as i thought. maybe next time we c—"

"no, seriously, omi, get out!—" you try to leap forward and grab his hand to pull him out but it's too late. the big wave you had seen rushing towards you came with such speed and ferocity that it knocked sakusa right off his feet, leading to him falling back into the water.

thankfully, you are able to grab his arm in time to help him upright again, so he isn't submerged for too long. and although some may say you just saved his life, he doesn't look awfully impressed with you after he gasps for air and wipes the salt water away from his eyes, with a single seaweed draped over his shoulder like a very ugly shawl.

fully soaked now, he grits, "let's just go."

rather unbothered by the tide, considering you were already wet from swimming, you nod sympathetically and lock arms with your boyfriend, guiding him back to your stuff while trying your best not to burst out laughing, "good idea."

he huffs and tosses a strand of dripping hair away from his face, "seems like i'm the only one who has those anymore."

"you've been spending too much time with atsumu. his attitude has really rubbed off on you." you titter, gathering all your stuff, "or maybe that wave knocked all the sense out of you."

"that might be true. the ocean does make people stupider, clearly." sakusa raises his eyebrows, watching you take all the stuff while stands with his arms crossed.

"oh wow, maybe i should've left you out there for longer. maybe instead of my ring, you could've found yourself some manners." you throw the blanket at him, since he isn't holding anything, which he catches frantically.

"you're ring wasn't even there to begin with." he turns around to look at the ocean, catch off-guard by how gorgeous it look in the sunset.

"and neither were your manners!" you retort, glancing at him to see his reaction, only to find him staring off into the distance. you follow his gaze and gasp slightly at the ethereal sight.

it's sobering, watching the golden sun lower over the ocean, casting a hue pink and orange over the sparkling water. the perfect end to the perfect day. it made you wonder if you'd ever see something so beautiful ever again, though that's not a thought you shared with sakusa, as he knew he'd wake up next to you tomorrow.

he gulped and turned to you, and you beamed at him, instantly leaping into his arms. he stumbled a little but quickly found his balance and held you against him, close.

"thank you for coming with me today, 'omi. i had so much fun."

he smiled against your damp hair, and kisses your jaw, "you don't need to thank me. going anywhere with you is always my pleasure." his hands run down your arm until they find yours, and they graze the back of your fingers, brushing over your glittering ring, "because you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

[x--sinner--x]

thinking about

being friendly to the “nice guy” until i finally let you convince me to let you take me out on a date. You keep buying me more and more drinks until I don’t realize just how drunk I am.

I try going home, but you insist on making sure I “get home safe”…. and then you continue into my house once we get there. You kiss me and grope me, telling me I asked you to do it and not asked so surprised. Being as drunk as I am, I believe your gaslighting and let you lead me to the bedroom. My only condition? You wear a condom. I’m not on birth control. I repeat this, asking if you have enough as we undress and you assure me you do. I believe you and lay back, letting you fuck me like you wanted.

Only to be surprised when my next period is late 🫣

🐝

Hell fucking yeah!!! This is so hot 🥵🥵🥵

Also I definitely am the "nice guy" with "nefarious intentions" because where is the fun when you know I'm a troublesome person better to be avoided.

It's better when you let your guard down and think I'm just a harmless and pretty sweet guy overall that you thought "Why not? Let's give him a chance" in your mind.

I have been watching you from afar holding back my feelings towards you. I wanted to tell you how I feel, but always hesitated. That's why I hatched this plan - well not exactly a plan and kinda winged it to be honest - i was around you all the time, helping you and your family out, being there at your beck and call, being your comfort pillow - and I had been the perfect gentleman until one day during a conversation i blurted out how I wanted to take you out on a date, and I was shocked when you agreed.

I wasn't thinking about anything even when I kept buying you drinks and you didn't stop me. I didn't know your alcohol tolerance and I was impressed at how well you can handle your liquor. But eventually you reached your limit, and that's when it hit me. This was my chance. I can finally have you to myself.

I had to take you home because you trusted me but in your drunk state you actually started to flirt with me - telling me to kiss you but you weren't consciously saying that. So when I kissed you, you look confused as if something bad happened.

Slowly and patiently I led you into your bedroom after making sure I have you exactly where I wanted to, and then you laid out the condition on me to wear a condom. I was surprised that it came out of your mouth considering how drunk you were, but I had other plans. Well yes I always carried condoms, but I'm a shy guy with no use of condoms. Well the condoms aren't mine either. Just sourced (I mean stole it) it from a playboy friend of mine. I assure you that I have enough and I heard you say you are on birth control and that triggered something in me.

Not only do I get to have sex with you, but I can breed you too? That was a very huge opportunity to pass up so I did. I used one of the condoms to insert my cock inside your pussy, it was tight and I had to use a lot of lube and a bit of foreplay to get my cock in. It felt so good but I know it can feel even better without the condom. The plastic texture was really taking me out of the rawness of your pussy.

So I did what I had to do. I came so hard inside the condom, several times due to how tight your pussy was and I made sure you were passed out by the time I was done with you. I pulled my cock out, slowly and carefully removed the condom, spread your pussy and slid my cum down your hole and made sure it went inside your pussy. If it leaked out, I would just use my fingers to push it back in.

To get the final nail in the coffin, I pushed my cock in raw inside your hole and that's when the euphoria struck me. My cock's foreskin combined with the tightness and warmth of your pussy was so intense I came one more time just from all the friction and lube I used. And I vanished from your room, leaving you passed out with cum dripping down your thighs.

This is proof that nice guys do indeed finish last. But better than never right?

[hanzajesthanza]

Ok, i need to hear your opinion on this.

I had a short discussion with my friend about shipping. I am generally not a person who likes ships, because if some characters are written to be friends, i can hardly picture them in romantic or sexual relationship, another factor is if they ship actors who play roles and then draw explicit content with them, which is imo hella weird. However generally, ships are harmless and fun, so i don't care much about it. But there is one shipping trope which i strongly dislike, and it's gay Dandelion. Here's my argument:

Dandelion is very flamboyant, very feminine, artistic, he takes care of his looks, he is bit of a coward, he is weak but sassy. Even though these traits are often percived as gay, he is straight. The reason why this matter is bcz he represents me and gives me freedom. I am exactly like him, obbiously an artist, a hopeless romantic, feminine, flamboyant, yet straight. Often i am pressured by my queer and straight friends that i'm in closet, almost every single person from my school thinks i'm gay too, and this does bother me bcz most of them are trying to convince me that i'm gay simply bcz i'm bit eccentric.

That's why Dandelion means so much to me, he reminds me that i can absolutely be dandy and straight at the same time. I can be an artist, i can be a hopeless romantic or sassy queen while still loving women. So, Dandelion represents inner artists and more gentle side of straight men. He doesn't fight with swords, but he knows people, he is good with women, respects them (well, at least for medieval standards), and he fights with words. Turning him gay defeats the purpose of his character and turns him into another gay stereotype.

Just to be clear ofc, i am not bothered by Dandelion ships, ships are obviously not canon, and as long as it makes someone happy, i'm all for it. So don't take this as some rageful rant please 😅 So, what do you think? My friend kind of dissagrees.

Thx 💝✨

i think it’s a fine opinion to have, especially because you express yourself so respectfully of others and aren’t hating on others or on the idea of being gay, you’re simply disagreeing with the interpretation of a character.

and, you know, canon is on your side—he is close with geralt to be sure, but canonically the intention is close friendship.

when noncanon ships get popular in the fandom, it can be annoying because some start acting like they have more “validity” (i.e. canon-ness) to their ship just because it’s popular, and yeah, while yeah i might joke with my friends and such that “i found this evidence! it’s canon! it’s real!” i think it’s important to keep a reality check on board.

tumblr is kind of like the home of shipping, so people on this site might be more sensitive about rejection of shipping as a concept, but to be honest…

i have become more criticial of shipping culture over the past few years, especially because some shipping has been relentlessly untagged, overtagged (into irrelevant tags), or forced on me, like people have approached me with ships/sexual context or discussion of characters, because i like that character so they assumed i liked the popular ship of them. this was upsetting to me at the time, and although i’ve cooled i still get a bit mad thinking about it, because it’s like they weren’t even open to seeing a different take on the character, my take on them, which was/is personal and important to me and something i wish to be understood about

so i can totally understand how you feel, and, i say this as someone who likes the book geralt/dandelion ship.

for that ship and me specifically, my interpretation of it has gone through so many stages, and where i’m at now with it is: i really like the canon characterization, dynamic, and interaction, and i don’t really want to change anything about it (or their relationships with women) to make it “more shippy,” i just enjoy their closer interactions. i guess i play in both camps of, i like them canonically as friends, and i also enjoy the romantic interpretation. my tag for them is “i want to be by your side” for a reason, i think this line can be interpreted as either (though of course shipping isn’t canon, i just mean, if you engage in shipping)

but i see why the romantic interpretation of geralt and dandelion can make people uncomfortable—not because for the reason of being gay, but because intimacy and truth isn’t represented well in male friendships, so geralt and dandelion being solid bros is great to see. though of course, gay representation is also lacking… so this argument can go both ways. worth it to mention that i think intimacy in male friendships being underrepresented is due to homophobia.

i also agree with what you say about jaskier being headcanoned as gay because he is artistic and not physically aggressive, i also find it off and frustrating when people make jokes about how jaskier is an incompetent and sassy gay because, idk, he plays an instrument?

… and don’t get me started on interjecting random stereotypical overly affectionate or “gay sassy phrases” into his dialogue when he doesn’t talk like that. this is really netflix’s fault to be honest, but i wish people would look at the books before they write something… that’s just me though and why i’m picky with fanfic/don’t often read it anymore.

i especially get annoyed when the interpretation directly contradicts the canon, like saying that jaskier is completely inept at any physical ability, because he does a lot of stuff, just not swordfighting—in a little sacrifice, he picks up and swings essi daven (who admittedly is light, but), in blood of elves he runs across rooftops, and in general is probably a good runner because he has to flee a lot from angry husbands

and more specifically, i get that it makes people uncomfortable that he is a philanderer and oftentimes objectifying, lecherous, cheater to women, but at the same time, after spending time with the witcher books i’ve come to realize and understand that that’s a huge part of his character (and for good reason), so i do kind of smirk when people imagine him as totally unattracted to women, like that is kind of a key feature of dandelion, like it or not.

(and on another note, i don’t like it much when his overt sexuality is censored, because it serves a thematic function to oppose him to geralt??? i laugh very hard at headcanons that jaskier is a virgin, that confuses me so much)

back to stereotyping him as gay for his looks and behavior—i’ll also provide a counterargument. as a gay person, i think we are sometimes just comfortable with making jokes about various stereotypes, so this can bleed over into headcanons.

for example, i like headcanoning milva as a lesbian, even though she doesn’t even show any attraction to women in canon, just because i enjoy her short hair and muscular physique—which is totally a stereotype of what a lesbian looks like, but it’s also not a … completely false one? there are plenty of short-haired muscular lesbians out there (to any reading: hiiiiiiii~) and i think the lgbt community as a whole sometimes enjoys reclaiming stereotypes that are based in just, common appearances, that aren’t entirely false, they’re just stereotypes because *not every* gay person looks like that. there are also a lot of skinny artistic gay (or in jaskier’s case IMO, bi) guys out there so it’s, i imagine, also something of a “representation” for them in a similar way it is for you, they like to see themselves in a character.

i think in general the disagreements that arise go back to disagreements on how important canon is to fandom, which is a personal decision for everyone… and even amongst the shipping it is a challenge to find the same or similar interpretations, because it can vary so much

[slayerkitty]

What Happened to Non?

All right. We've all been talking about what happened to Non since the show started - in a "something bad obviously happened, they obviously did something to him, not sure if they killed him but..." way.

I've been doing something thinking during my re-watching with @shannankle about what this group of antagonistic idiots did to Non (regardless of intention) and I has a clown theory. *puts on clown hat and starts smearing on the make-up*

One of the things that @shannankle and I did for fun was actually go back and watch the pilot trailer for DFF, just to see if they kept any of it or similar scenes in the show. As is typical for pilot trailers, almost none of it has translated over to the actual show, other than they share a similar vibe and the relationships (PheeJin and TeeWhite). But what I found interesting is what happened to Non in the pilot trailer.

Trigger Warning: Character is tied up/kidnapped/forcibly stripped

These absolute douche nozzles stripped Non to his boxers, tied him up, and left him (possibly unconscious) on a rooftop. Now, I'm not a doctor, and I have limited knowledge on the health risks of this, but I would say IT'S PROBABLY NOT GOOD. Dehydration, sunburn, heat stroke, etc. Also, I'm sure it would be demeaning and humiliating to Non.

Now, do I think that's what they did to Non in the show? No.

Do I think they might do something similar? Yes.

Will they take Non out to the woods, strip him and tie him up? No.

But will they drug him, make him think he's being chased by the killer from their movie, and then attacked by the killer and then leave him alone out in the woods while tripping? Yeah, I think they might.

When the show first starts, the opening scene is Jin and Non running out the side door and into the woods. They're terrified. Jin pulls on Non several times to direct him toward the shrine in the woods and then abandons Non at the shrine to run off. Non is then "attacked" the killer, and blood splatters in his face.

Why do I think they drugged Non? Because in episode 2, in the closet when White finds the antenna and the knife, he also finds an empty vial. It looks prescription and like it's maybe been there for a while (three years, possibly?).

What a great prank it would be, wouldn't it, to convince Non that they're actually being stalked by the killer Non created for their script. Drug his drink, Tee slips on the costume, everyone freaks out and Jin leads Non into the woods before running off. Harmless right?

Except that none of them ever saw Non again. He disappeared. They don't know if he's alive, or if what they did contributed to his death somehow.

I don't know if the show is going to have Non live or not. I can see both options as viable. But there is no doubt in my mind that they drugged and tortured Non with his own creation under the guise that it was all a prank.

(gif by @ging-ler)

[pipthegreat]

I like your Fun Park AU and i'm wondering why Jax is so traumatizt because you wrote how traumatizt every Character is and jax was a 9/10 and I'm wondering why if you could please tell it to me.

Jax along with Kaufmo arrived fairly young, so you can imagine how confused and concerned they were to suddenly appear in a VR game. He had to deal with seeing people abstract, one being Queenie who was a mother figure to him and Kaufmo. They saw the transformation face to face, her body being torn as if bones and skin, forming into this ungodly demon with intent on killing them while wearing their mother's face. They wanted to turn her back byt kept getting injured doing so. Jax never gave up on her. Traps when they come to Queenie are close to harmless, who would want to hurt their own mother?

After Queenie's abstraction Kaufmo's need to escape grew horribly high which is why Jax started doing his pranks in the first place to cheer him up. As I already stated, one of the pranks accidentally "killed" Kaufmo. It was a noise prank, Jax made sure that the abstracted weren't anywhere nearby but unfortunately he didn't look good enough. It came and sliced Kaufmo's stomach open, and even when in the face of a monster Kaufmo didn't look scared. He was ready, ready for the sweet relief of death. It broke Jax's heart knowing death isn't what awaits Kaufmo but a neverending hell and misfortune of attacking everyone you see. Always being in pain.

As much as he tries to hide it he can't stand seeing an abstracted human or ai, knowing they had to feel themselves shift uncomfortably without stop. He cares about everyone... Kinger, Pomni, even Zooble. all of them. What if he was alone? What would he do? He doesn't want to lose them. The thought haunts him everyday.

He often leaves the group when he feels a panic attack is going to happen or when he needs to cry. Only Kinger knows and also Pomni later on.

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

LORE LORE LORE

[httpchrryslvs]

| Sunflower.

- You're the sunflower, I think your love would be too much.

[pairing: miles morales x reader]

[warnings: douche bags, slight violence, bullying, rough start to a sweet ending, slightly proofread]

[a/n: hi! i have disappeared for nearly three weeks now and it's bc of life! i somehow managed to meet someone and the past month with them has been really good! life was an emotional rollercoaster and i couldn't really write because i was mostly infatuated and also a wreck? i'm also planning on writing for andrew garfield's spider-man so i may have to rewatch his movies just to refresh my memory. i hope you guys enjoy 🫶🏻]

-

You had a history for getting involved with textbook douchebags. From Flash Thompson (a braindead, basketball loving, spoiled bully) to Harry Osborn (a rather good friend of yours who ought to remain just a friend in your opinion.) Flash was one of the worst people to be with. He has a humongous yet fragile ego. He made fun of your fellow classmates who were harmless, including Miles Morales. Miles was a transferee from Brooklyn Middle, which made him the perfect target for a bully like Flash.

“Maybe the broke should go back to where they came from, right?” Flashed yelled as he glanced over at you in hopes of getting your approval. You were all in a classroom, waiting for the next period as your previous class ended early due to the teacher having an emergency at home. You were usually seated next to Michelle, your best friend who unfortunately had to stay at home due to intense cramps. Seeing Michelle’s absence from her usual spot beside you, Flash made it his task to bombard you with mindless questions and insults of your peers. A few of your classmates glanced at your direction, waiting to see your reaction.

With an eyebrow raised you replied, “What are you talking about?” Flash smirked and pointed at Miles’ direction, who was sketching in his sketchbook while music blasted in his headphones. You rolled your eyes. “Just leave him alone.” Flash did not like your response, as he stood up and snatched Miles’ sketchbook. “Hey!” Miles yelled as he made a move to grab his sketchbook to which Flash stretched out his arm to prevent Miles from grabbing it. Miles attempted to grab his sketchbook once more, only to be pushed down his desk. You had enough of Flash and his antics. Standing up swiftly, you walked over to the pair. Flash looked at you intently, waiting for your next move.

“Stop being a dick and just give it back, Flash!” Your voice echoed against the walls of the silent room. You could feel your heart racing as Flash stepped towards you with a glare that could certainly instill fear in anyone. What happened next was a blur, as you were only standing in front of Flash, and the next, you were on the floor with a sharp pain in the back of your head. Your eyes clouded as muffled screams were the last thing you remember.

-

A bright light clouded your vision as you slowly opened your eyes. Sitting up, you winced as the back of your head was aching. “I think it’s best if you lay down.” A familiar voice told you. Looking around the room, everything clicks in your mind.You were in the nurse’s office, possibly due to whatever happened earlier. Miles was sitting on a chair beside you, reading a book with his bag on the floor beside him. “I think so too.” Groaning loudly, you gently laid down on the bed, turning to your side to face Miles.

“What happened?” Miles looked up at you. He couldn’t help but stare at your face. You looked so pretty. With the way you looked at him softly, with the gentle voice you have, he was sure to melt in his chair. “Flash pushed you. I-uh,” He stammered out as he looked around the room. With an eyebrow raised, you asked again, “You what?”

“Pushed him against the whiteboard? And maybe broke that board?” With wide eyes, you sat up quickly as you tried to register it. As the back of your head pulsed with pain due to sitting up quickly, you were forced to lay down on the bed again.

“Uhm. How did you do that?” You asked curiously as Miles felt himself heat up. “I mean, no offense, but Flash is double your size, Miles. How can you just push him?” He felt himself shrink under your curious gaze. “Look, that doesn't matter!” He laughed nervously as you raised another eyebrow at him. “Flash got expelled, and your parents and his parents are in the principal’s office,” Miles told you. Rolling onto your back and huffing out a sigh, you looked up at the ceiling. “I appreciate you standing up for me, Miles,” You softly spoke and paused to turn your head and look into his eyes. “I know he’s been causing you some trouble and I honestly should’ve done better.”

He looked at the floor, unsure of what to say. If he was being honest, Flash did bother him. It bothered Miles that Flash was always beside you, trying to gain your attention, attempting to sit beside you during lunch and classes. It irked him so much that the pent up frustration (plus his spidey-powers) was what caused him to react harshly against Flash. Miles knew you deserve better than that attention-seeking douche. If you gave him a chance, you would probably be swept off your feet.

-

You and Miles never continued your conversation regarding what you could’ve done better. Your parents had barged into the room thanking Miles profusely before switching their attention to you. As a known neurosurgeon, your dad advised that you stayed home for a week at best to heal your head. It turns out that Miles did in fact break the board of the classroom by pushing Flash against it. According to some rumors, it even escalated, with Miles somehow landing multiple blows. You were pretty sure those were made up since you knew that Miles wasn’t the type to act irrationally. Your classmates had all pitched in to send you a bouquet of lilies and a ‘get well soon’ card. Relatives had also sent their well wishes and close friends sent gifts. Michelle even went out of her way to personally give you her gift, a box of your favorite pizza, some ice cream, and a gossip session.

A particular gift stood out. A lone sunflower with an envelope. It was placed on your desk by your dad along with the other gifts and cards. “‘Get well soon. With love, Miles.’” You read the back of the envelope with a smile. Gently opening the small package, it contained a folded paper. You tugged the folded paper before opening it. With flushed cheeks, you stared at the paper. It was a beautiful drawing of you focused on the board. Your hair was a bit of a mess, with a few strands of hair sticking out. Eyes focused as you bit your lip. At the bottom of the paper, in messy handwriting, it says, ‘My sunflower.'

-

You had returned to school after the recommended week was up. Assuring your father that you were feeling fine was difficult. He was worried that you might feel lightheaded or even faint. However, he felt assured remembering that Miles was there for you. Your dad even recommended you go out with Miles as he seemed like ‘a good kid with a good heart, plus he knows how to fight.’ If you were being honest, Miles intrigued you. He was artistic and smart. He was polite and was family-oriented. Miles was a good friend and classmate. And you may or may not have had an eye on him for a while.

A few friends of yours greeted you as you entered the school. Questions of ‘how are you’ and ‘how have you been’ were sent your way to which you replied that you were feeling fine, better even. Your eyes searched the hallway for Miles, hoping to talk to him. As soon as you saw his red bag and headphones, you rushed to his side. A tap on his shoulder was all it took for him to remove his headphones, wide eyed with a nervous smile. “Hey! Y-You’re back!” He stammered. You hummed and gave a small smile, looping an arm around his to pull him as the pair of you walked to your first class of the day.

“So, I received your flower and gift. Thank you for that by the way,” You said and grinned at him as he could feel his cheeks heat up. “But I was wondering…” You trailed off.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna go out for some ice cream after school?” Miles could feel his heart beat faster by the second as his forehead started to swear. You smirked at his nervous state.

“L-Like a date?” He asked to which you responded with a nod.

“Of course! I-I would love to!”

“Great! I’ll go ahead and meet Michelle before I head to class. See you later, sunflower.” You winked before wandering off to meet Michelle at her locker. Miles stood still in the middle of the hallway as people gave him looks of concern. He was sure he was sweating profusely and his cheeks were flushed. “Sunflower, huh?” Ganke’s teasing voice called out from behind him. He groaned in annoyance.

“Shut up, Ganke.”

“Okay, sunflower.”

[thunder-point]

that being said: a bit of a long Q ramble once again

These last 3 weeks I kind of abstained from talking about the whole "making Q jealous" because I had a lot of thoughts, and sometimes they clashed, other times they were too infused with frustration to properly voice them. Because overall, that's what I felt. Frustration. At first I tried to take it as harmless fun. "These friends, aish, look at them plotting like dorks to get these two together". And when it all kind of exploded and Toey started crying, and Q was so conflicted he couldn't even think properly I was like "alright at least that's over, they'll solve it themselves."

But... it was not? Listen, if these dorks really thought Q needed even more pushing, sure. even if I don't get that they didn't get from that whole thing. It was pretty self explanatory that things were happening after the whole fight. At least until Toey mentioned that they should go back to normal, which I felt like Q took it in the wrong way. BUT especially since Peem had insight on the whole deal from Q himself, I feel like he should have been a little more active in stopping the whole deal from being pushed too far. Look, not only that they pushed it too far, but it also felt like they disregarded Q's side entirely through it. And that's why I think it kind of hurt a little bit more. Even Q says in episode 10 that it messed him up, that he's not a toy to be played with, or to be sold (something along those lines, it's very paraphrased), and I'm still a bit frustrated that it wasn't addressed properly. I feel like if someone says this, especially a person like Q who can't truly express himself verbally too often, his friends should have been more mindful of it.

I'm glad the whole thing turned out ok, but... Those are supposed to be Q's friends since high school, and even if they had the best of intentions, I still believe they should take more seriously the fact that they put their friend through a lot of tumult, and I also believe that Toey could have perhaps done more. I get that Toey is also equally shy about this, and that the past with Milk Frappe Boy and Pencil Senior also brought along a lot of insecurities. I totally get that. But even so, I still think he should have put a stop to the whole thing sooner. Or should have tried another way to get a concrete answer from Q. There were other ways for sure. All in all, that plot wasn't necessarily enjoyable, or it would have been more enjoyable if Q's friends noticed that what they were doing was actively hurting Q, or if they apologized after Q admitted that it messed him up a little. Or if they talked about it more. I just wanted that to be more addressed than it was. I don't know, perhaps I'm making out of this a big deal - these are just some of my feelings regarding this plot point. I just wanted more support for Q in that part. I felt like the man went through a lot alone.

[deathcupcake]

Dragon Age The Veilguard Cocktails

My holiday break from work* has begun, and as I mentioned, I'm starting my research into what I want to make for the drinks mentioned in the Veilguard codex entries.**

I believe these are the only drinks listed in the codex, but let me know if I missed any.

Ammazzacaffè

The coffee-killer, this pomace brandy is swirled in a still-warm cup and sipped on the move, following the Antivan custom of demitasse in the dining room, murder in the den.

Daisy Fun-Time Lemon Gin

Not everything in Antiva is murder, murder, murder. This juniper spirit is flavored with local flowers and fruit, served with tonic and only the merest, most necessary dash of murder.

Grappaling Hook

A white liqueur with hints of elderflower and dark intent. Served with three coffee beans and a smile not shared by the eyes. Colorless. Guileless. Harmless? Now we have you.

Qun on the Rocks

A recent Drowned District staple, rum is matched with saltwater and presumably seasonal Par Vollen fruit, floated from a dreadnought hold while Antaam are distracted by their own windy Butcher.

Vint-6 the Common Red

A celebration of life, thick and sweet, served by the sip. Tradition says the more who partake, the greater the fortune, for no one is free until everyone is free.

Dew of the Dales

Like it says on the label, spirits for the spirited, an elven elevation of the brewing arts. Sold only in Antiva, a guarantee that changes only slightly in other markets.

*let's hope this doesn't turn into a prolonged shutdown, but not much I can do about the state of the government

**Caveat: I don't often bother to make multi-ingredient cocktails myself but I sure have a lot of oddball liquors, love bitters/amari, and have been collecting cocktail paraphernalia for about 20 years, so I probably have what I need, maybe even the mixers. However, I will take this opportunity to buy that Allspice Dram I've been eyeing for the past year, even if I don't use it in any of these.

[seriousfic]

Hey, so I saw your post about Quiet on set from a few days ago and it just rubbed me the wrong way. I tried to write a comment a bunch of times but articulating this point is weirdly stressful and kind of nit-picky. This is in no way an attack, I just want to engage in a discussion about it, and maybe understand your point better.

I disagree with a fair amount of what was said about censorship, censorship and age recommendations are at the baseline guidelines that are there to help inform parents. And what it seemed like you may have wanted to acknowledge is that children and parents have a choice in what they watch. (Is that what you meant about the Bluey comment?)

The best way for me to state my disagreement is with the line about dog food, "both a man and a dog can eat dog food". It implies that anything goes and the issue is with puritanical censorship; but if we take the analogy further the implications are different. Starting with the fact that dog food is not safe for human consumption, it is processed at a different standard and the quality and regulations for it are different from that of our food. Sure you can eat dog food in a pinch but you are running the risk of becoming quite ill, even if the risk is slim. So if we apply that to what you were talking about: it is dangerous to kids who are in the industry and can negatively impact the children who are consuming those pieces of media. I will agree its definitely much worse for the children in the show, who are forced to act out sexual innuendos because their job depended on it. But the logic about dog food is flawed and implies that its all okay. I don't know if that was the intention and I am inclined to believe it was not.

Thank you if you took the time to read this, and no pressure to respond

Look, someone Blazed the original post, which is both flattering and a little frustrating, because it means it went outside my little curated bubble and people are engaging with it who don't have Trusted Media Literacy Confirmed status. But I did say, straight up, that I wasn't for "anything goes in children's media," that there is a line that shouldn't be crossed, and that there was a big difference between slightly off-color wordplay (fingerprints/Finger Prince, how do you go from an A to a D?) and children performing veiled sex acts.

("I'm not talking about some of the outright fetishistic stuff, but simple wordplay in teen shows." "(Sex jokes acted out by adults /= sex jokes acted out by children)")

My concern was basically that, in their justified and understandable outrage over Schneider and his associates' actions, people would go overboard, throw the baby out with the bathwater, and declare war on anything that HINTED at adult content within children's media, such as a rather harmless puberty joke about bosoms in a show aimed at teens. Moral panic is a helluva drug.

Moreover, I believe that part of children's development is consuming media with more mature (but still appropriate) themes as they age. Sometimes even a little inappropriate. Ask most guys and they'll recall being taken to see R-rated action movies with their dads when they were twelve or so. Most women have fond memories of teen sleepovers where they watch movies like Coyote Ugly, Charlie's Angels, or Burlesque.

This is a natural part of growing up. The boys don't see something insane like Terrifier, they see something like Die Hard that's just a bit more intense than PG-13 (or Saving Private Ryan, which is kinda insane, but it's also historically edifying and also Spielberg is the man). And girls don't see something like Bible Black, they see something that's a bit raunchy, but overall harmless and fun.

I just think about this some because I have a lot of nieces and nephews, the oldest is six, and I'm going like "ooh, is she ready for Jackie Chan movies? Would Rumble In The Bronx be okay for her? There is that bit where they beat up Jackie pretty bad... BTAS might be too much for her, but The Brave And The Bold is really silly and lighthearted, she'll probably like that." And there's a lot of stuff that, on God, I am not showing her for a long, long time. I've hidden my Tales From The Crypt DVDs because just seeing the Cryptkeeper on the cover scares her. So I am not advocating for showing Texas Chainsaw Massacre to five-year-olds. I am saying that, by the time they're eighteen, they should be ready for Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and the way they get ready is to see the occasional Ghostbusters or Jurassic Park.