#they are innocent and not to blame for their teams fuck ups

[mirrorball-leclerc]

@ ferrari @ red bull

[realcube]

— GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA

tws & tags ;; headcanons into short fic. nsfw mdni smut. cybersex. sex work. objectification. vibrators + self pleasure. nipple play. squirting.

GOONER! FANBOY! KENMA who has been watching your content since before you had one hundred followers.

FANBOY! KENMA who, despite being a massive streamer himself, lurks silently in your chat and enjoys your cute commentary and novice gameplay without saying a word. he knows that if he invited you to one of his own streams, your viewer count would likely increase exponentially, but he can't quite pluck up the courage to ask you. (and a part of him enjoys keeping you as his precious little secret gem)

FANBOY! KENMA tunes in to every single one of your lives. he'll drop whatever it is that he's doing to hear that dulcet voice, and see you awkwardly prattle on and charm your small audience with your eagerness to please.

FANBOY! KENMA whose heart would skip a beat when you notice him among your small pool of regular viewers, "hi, kudzuken! uh, i hope i'm saying that right. thanks for joining." you'd say into the camera accompanied by the most endearing smile. he'd then promptly donate $10 to your live-stream as a thank you for the jerk material.

FANBOY! KENMA is repulsed when he looks at your chat to see it overrun by trolls, spammers and perverts due to your lack of a moderation team. a bunch of weirdos online sending inappropriate comments on your body and seemingly innocuous statements that somehow read as creepy. ('love ur smile, babygirl..' 'keep sitting just like that!!!') and kenma can't helped but be disgusted, and partially because he knows he's just as perverted as these other internet trolls. his stare is also often stuck to your tits in those low-cut tops, or the inviting glossiness of your cute lips. he could get lost in those sweet innocent eyes for hours, imagining giving you a tight hug and feeling those soft tits pressed against his chest — just the thought alone was enough to cause a tent in his pants. but at least he had the decency not to type out all those lewd fantasies and post them to a public domain. that had to count for something, right?

FANBOY! KENMA who is disappointed but not surprised when you quit your online gamer gig to pursue a different type of live-streaming. your views were never great and hardly improving, and any subscribers you did have made it exceedingly clear they were only watching for your pretty face or hot body. so kenma couldn't blame you for trying to capitalise on your strengths and explore a career path you may be more suited for — in fact, it was a smart business move.

FANBOY! KENMA who was distraught, but still not surprised, when your camgirl account took off immediately and you gained over ten thousand subs in less than a week of creation, and the numbers were only growing steadily from there. every time he checked and saw your subscriber count had gone up, a small piece of him died. he realised it was parasocial and fucked up to be so upset by you, a content creator, receiving the attention of others, but truthfully, he missed when you were just his little secret.

FANBOY! KENMA figures that even though you were popular now, at least you were doing something that was (shamefully) far more appealing to him. he wasn't able to sleep for days before your first scheduled livestream in your new niche. no matter how hard he tried or how many melotonin gummies he ate, he just couldn't. he was too excited. and rightfully so.

FANBOY! KENMA who almost passes out twenty mintues into the stream. he was, of course, one of the first people to join, and the five or so minutes where you just sat there fully clothed and idled while saying, "i'm just gonna wait for some more people to join before i start.." was about the longest five minutes of his entire life. but the pay-off was worth it. he was hard and stroking it before the show even began, and had his first orgasm when you took your bra off to reveal your pebbled nipples. (but he's proud he lasted that long because he was about to nut as soon as you took your top off). his second and third orgasm came when you started fingering yourself on your gaming chair. he feels blessed to be able to behold your sopping pussy that he's been dying to see for who-knows long. it was more gorgeous than he could've ever imagined. in fact, every single part of your delicious body exceeded his expectations — and trust, his expectations were not low. you were nothing short of a idol in his eyes; a beautiful, cock-riding idol.

FANBOY! KENMA who, regardless of how famous you were, will always be your number one fan. he blabbers to himself about how sexy you are as he cums, he watches all your videos and live-streams and donates crazy amounts of money just to see that vibrator stuffed in your snug pussy go that little bit faster.

FANBOY! KENMA who is an og and can always tell when you are fabricating or 'faking' your reactions. he can identify easily when your clit isn't actually as 'sensitive' as you make it out to be for the camera and he most definitely knows when you fake an orgasm. but he can't really blame you. you've been fingering that desperate little pussy for ages chasing your high but you can't quite reach it and your subs are getting restless, so you just need to cave and give them what they want to see. it's business, and kenma gets that. but he swears to himself that one day you won't need to rely on your weak fingers or some shitty dildo, because he'll make you finish so good and so hard around his own cock.

FANBOY! KENMA that will subscribe and pay for whatever vapid, cashgrab content you release. low-quality nudey pics taken in your bathroom mirror? sold for $20. a blurry photo of you dressed as a slutty bunny on halloween? sold for $40. an upskirt you took when you couldn't afford an uber home from a bar? sold for $60. pair of used panties? sold for $100. jar of your bathwater? sold for $400.

FANBOY! KENMA that will always request private shows with you. his income fluctuates depending on how well his stocks perform or the current trends that denote the viewship on his own gaming livesteams. but regardless, he will ensure to put a pretty penny aside so he can offer a deposit for a private show. during which, if you accept, he'll refuse to show his face. he doesn't want you to recognise him as a semi-famous gamer and put a face to his simp account. he won't give you his real name either but it's okay, he gets hard just hearing you coo his username.. ':)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

"kudzuken.." you tilt your head as you read the familiar username, "did i say that right?" you giggle awkwardly, afraid you may have butchered the name of your private stream donator — who offered $500 just for this twenty minute show.

kudzuken: yes

he replies in chat, and you smile. "perfect." you murmur, pushing yourself away from your desk and hopping out of your chair so you could show off your whole outfit (or lack thereof) for the camera. "i'm a bunny! hmm— wait, what noise do rabbits make?" you do a little spin, and kenma, on the other side of screen somewhere, was sitting utterly stunned. your 'costume' consisted of a furry grey bikini top, some floppy bunny ears on your head and to complete the look, a cute little pompon rabbit tail. and kenma quickly noted that you weren't wearing any panties, so it was almost a mystery how this tail accessory stayed put over your perky ass.

"i decided to dress as one because you said in my comments once that you liked the pic of me in my bunny costume for halloween." you mused, clasping your hands together as you sat back down in your oversized gaming chair. "so, i thought you'd appreciate this."

kudzuken: i do

you actually read his comments and pay attention to them? was this real life or was he having some kind of hyper-realistic wet dream?

you looked like a fantasy, all cute and exposed for him on his monitor — and just for him. your pussy on full display for him. idly fondling your own tits and palming at your cunt lewdly as a performance dedicated to him. albeit, you do show it to other men as well, but not right now. currently, it was only the two of you, and he felt connected to your bare body on a sexual and interpersonal level. the way your eyes bore into his through the monitor and your glistening cunt basically screamed his name. but he craved more. hence, he stroked his free erection while typing out his messages with his other hand.

kudzuken: take the top off

you pout at message, still teasing him by pushing your boobs together as you purr, "you know the rules, silly~ it's an extra fifty for any clothing remo--." and within an instant of the words exiting your mouth, your donation chime went off.

kudzuken donated $100 with the message: get rid of the tail too

you smile appreciatively at the money, and hum, "thank you.. but i thought the tail was quite cute." you giggle, making a playful jab at his eagerness to rid you of your little pompom tail which you thought completed your costume. little did you know, kenma loved the tail too, but he was even more desperate to see how you kept it on.

as promised, you unclasp your bra and make a show out of the release of your tits: pinching your nipples and rubbing them for the camera. you'd even feign a couple of light moans just for him — although, kenma could always tell when you were acting, but he appreciated the effort.

next was the tail. turned over and with your chest pressed against the back of your chair, you spread your ass to reveal the plug that jammed nicely inside your puckered hole, attached to a small rod that held the fuzzy tail. kenma was in awe as he watched you fidget with the plug cautiously, stifling moans in response even the slightest movement.

kenma was in awe, his grasp on his cock subconciously tightening as he increased his pace. he bit his lip from admiration at how sensitive you were in that little hole of yours, and how shy you were too. he noted how you'd face away from the camera or hide your expressions with your spare whenever the stimulation from the toy would elicit any reaction from you.

kudzuken: don't be coy. pull harder.

you sighed. hesitantly wrapping your fingers around the fuzzy part of the tail and inhaling a deep breath, before harshly tugging on the plug. it wasn't quite like ripping off a plaster. no, you had to pull for a bit and feel your ass contort and stretch around the foreign metal as it tried to escape the confines of your restrictive walls. groaning the entire time, body going limp against your chair. "ahh— i didn't think.. ngh.. it would be so— hah— hard!"

eventually, after a concerningly laborious process, you manage to yank it out. leaving it a cute little temporary gape that kenma would pay anything to fill with his tongue. but alas, he's hundreds of miles away and the best he can do is fist his aching dick while you shallowly finger your hole for the camera.

"i've been filming since super early this morning, kudzuken." you sigh, his username feeling a bit strange to utter in casual conversation, but you roll with it away. your fingers slowly graze your exposed ass and pussy lips as you drone, " 'm so tired now. just wanna cum n' relax. think we can do that together?"

kudzuken: yeah

"yay." you hum lowly, lazily shifting so you are sat normally, except you then sling your legs over the arms of your gaming chair, so your entire soaked pussy is on display for him. you rub sloppy circles over your clit while glancing between your cunt and the camera. "my hands are soo tired though," you whine, relaxing your head back, "mind if i grab something to use?"

kudzuken: don't mind

you could shove a lava lamp up your pussy for all he cares, he just wants to watch you cum. perhaps a very selfish an hedonistic view, but his tip is in agony and he just needs to see you writhing in pleasure before he nuts. otherwise, it's physically impossible for him to climax; it's almost a curse.

during the time his eyes were screwed shut and he was begging his body for just an ounce of relief, you had rummaged in your draw and found both your juul and your favourite vibrator. one went straight into your pussy and the other went straight to your lips.

you put it on the medium setting, so the little pink thing wasn't exactly tearing up your insides, but it still brought you an immense amount of satisfaction. like scratching a severe itch that had been persistent all day. it finally felt like you were being taken care of and you could relax.

"mm, that feels so good.." you purr, eyes closed and enitrely absorbed in the moment. hand wandering down your bare body and spreading your folds so kenma could get a perfect view of your favourite toy stuffed into your tight cunt. he could even faintly hear the buzzing noise. "hmm, this is the best way to de-stress after a long day, huh?"

although a part of him wondered what you could possibly be 'de-stressing' from considering you were a camgirl and you probably did stuff like this all day, the majority of him was so deeply involved in the moment that he didn't even have the mental energy to concern himself with his pedantic worries. instead, he drifted off into a fantasy of his own, imagining those slender fingers pumping his cock were yours.

kudzuken: the best

despite the brevity of his messages, you don't take offence. in fact, it suggests you're doing a good job if he's left with only one hand to type with. so you continue, legs spread wide as you gaze longingly into your computer webcam. your fingers rub sloppy circles over your throbbing clit, but for the most part, the pink toy was doing the heavy-lifting and was the reason your face would scrunch with pleasure every so often.

"nghh, feel so good.. want more.." you whine into the emptiness of your room, your eyes drifting shut and allowing your mouth to freely babble whatever cries appeared in your lust-glazed mind. "wish it was something bigger.." you muse innocently, knowing exactly what you do to him.

kudzuken: me too

and the most shameful part is that kenma knows your being flippant and trying to appeal to his perverted desires, but he doesn't care. it just eggs him on further to imagine his cock in the place of that humble little toy — jammed right into your snug cunt, where he belongs. whatever it was: your pussy, your hands, your mouth, he just wanted to feel you somehow.

"mmph, it's so nice to finally let go.." you say as a breathy whisper, eyes entirely shut as the corners of your lips curl into a faint smile, "can you tell how much i've been needing this?"

his eyes twinkled as he watched your pretty hole suck on the head of the toy as it vibrates within you. your walls were twitching yet you looked stunningly relaxed, limbs all spread out across your chair, as your body practically melts into it. your mouth hung open just a little bit to show a tantilising peek of your tongue. what kenma wouldn't give to insert his cock in there too.

his fingers stiffened around his dick at the mere thought, and before long, he had undergone his first climax, making a mess of both his hand and his black sweatpants. but thanks to you, he's got plenty of practise at this and has built up the stamina to go for multiple rounds. it didn't take long of watching your pussy flutter around the vibrating toy and hearing your melodious moans before he was fully hard again, stroking his length.

"mm, i think.." you murmur, legs beginning to twitch and shudder slightly, as you feel the pool of liquid heat in the pit of your stomach begin to stir and bubble. what was supposed to be a relaxing and tranquil experience, was quickling boiling into something far more intense. "i think i'm getting close.."

kenma's eyes light up at the thought, and his hand instinctually speeds up. originally laid back against his chair, upon hearing your desperate mewls about an impending orgasm, he hastily leans forward, engrossed in the screen afore him. paying attention to every little detail: the way your spread legs shake, your pouty and lewd expression, your drenched pussy and the slick gathering by your enterance around the toy, and how it dripped down to ass and formed a small puddle on the seat of your chair.

strands of your hair would fall into your face and poke at the corners of your agape mouth, which you would then have to swiftly brush aside before returning your hands to rub frantic circles on your clit. "ah, ahh— 'm so so close, boutta finish. can i? can i cum? please—" you plea to the camera.

kudzuken: yes kudzuken: cum pretty girl

it's as though his fingers acted on reflex, effortlessly typing the response in less than a couple seconds, all while his other hand still vigorously pumped his cock.

"nngh, okay, thank you, sir.. i— fuck!" you squeal , feeling light-headed as your orgasm overcomes you much earlier than you anticipated. you toss your head back in pure bliss as your knees tremble and you rock your hips against nothing, searching for more stimulation from the stagnant toy. despite it going at the same pace that previously relaxed you, the vibrator now felt like it was ravaging your sensitive insides, and all you could do was lie there and take it while your cunt walls convulse in defence.

"ahh— shit, i think— oh my god.." you cry, a second heat erupting within you shortly after you reached your high, as demonstrated by the fury of fluid that all came gushing out of you, with such a violent force that your vibrating toy was pushed out. "fuck's sake! nghh, 'ts too much! i can't, i can't!"

kudzuken: please

you scream and writhe in your chair as this powerful climax overwhelms your poor tired body, and all kenma can do is sit and gaze up at his monitor in awe. he is so astounded that he forgets to keep rubbing himself but the sight of your perfect pussy squiriting all over your chair and desk was enough to make him cum as well, and he released his second load across his clothed thighs again.

a lot of his semen dripped right back down his own shaft but he didn't care; if anything, it helped and served as lubrication. anyway, he was far to immersed in watching you submit to a blinding euphoria to care about the disgusting mess he was making of himself.

once you were done and your pussy has squirted out every last drop of sparkling fluid, you were left breathless and absolutely soaking. your wide-eyes gaze darted across your wet chair to your damp computer screen. you weren't looking forward to cleaning it all up, but alas, you sigh and relax back into your chair, "that was— so good. thank you, kudzuken." you heave, cute tits rising and falling with each deep exhale, "nothing feels better than cumming after a rough day.. it's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, don't you think?"

you were seeing stars and babbling nonesense, but kenma was amused by it.

kudzuken: thank you too

you smile weakly at the chat reply, "anytime." you hum, slowly sitting up and crossing your arms over your chest, "erm, anyway, i should probably start cleaning up and head to bed. 'm so tired, it's been such a long day. but this was fun, we should do it again sometime."

kudzuken: yes

"well you know where to find me." you titter, reaching forward to your mouse and keyboard so you can end the private live-stream, "bye. have a nice night."

kudzuken: bye (y/n)

was the last thing he was able to type before he was disconnected from the chat. and that was certainly not the last time you spoke. it was an expensive habit, but he'd keep paying to watch you cum before bed almost every night for two months straight.

[heavenlybodies333]

Daddy’s girl -S.R

Spencer Reid x Hotch’s daughter!reader

“Don’t walk away from me,” Hotch’s voice cuts through the bullpen like a gunshot. The team freezes. No one dares to look up from their desks—except the new agent recruit. Spencer Reid watches as the girl in the pleated skirt and pressed white blouse turns back slowly, mouth twisted in irritation. She looks like she walked straight out of a catalog for expensive private schools.

“I came by to say hi after class,” you snap, arms folded. “Sorry for existing, Dad.” Dad? Spencer blinks. That’s Hotch’s daughter?

Hotch steps forward, a calm rage simmering behind his eyes. “You charged nearly two thousand dollars on that card this week. I warned you. Five missed classes in one week and a bar tab that could fund a tactical op? You’re done.”

“That was for my thesis!” you cut in.

Hotch doesn’t flinch. “Give me the card.”

“No.”

“Now.” as he held his hand out sternly.

“You’re actually doing this in front of everyone?” you hiss, hopping off JJ’s desk. “Right now?”

His tone doesn’t shift. “Now.” You roll your eyes, with an exaggerated sigh, you yank the black AMEX from your bag and slap it into his palm.

He cuts it clean in half.

“Enjoy campus dining,” he says.

You glare at him. “I fucking hate you.”

“You’ll thank me someday,” Hotch says coolly.

You throw your hands up dramatically and spin on your heel to storm out, fury radiating off you like heat. But not before you pass Spencer’s desk—your eyes catch on the stack of neatly organized files beside his laptop. His poor, innocent desk. And with a perfectly manicured hand, you swipe your arm across it, sending the entire pile of case files flying like paper snowflakes. Hotch raises his voice once again, “If you walk out this building your going to be looking at more than just your card taken away—”

You don’t even glance back. “Don’t wait up, Dad!” you shout, You keep walking, one middle finger raised in the air, aimed squarely at your father. Spencer watches you disappear through the elevator doors, your skirt swinging, attitude on full display.

“Jesus Christ,” Reid says with his eyebrows raised. “Who?”

“That,” Morgan says, clapping him on the back, “was the princess.”

“She’s—?”

Hotch sighs and rubs his temples. “My daughter.”

Spencer frowns, still staring at the papers on the floor. “She knocked over my files.” Emily shrugs. “She once crashed her Porsche into Hotch’s SUV and blamed the parking lot security.” Morgan pats him on the shoulder, laughing. “Welcome to the BAU, rookie.” The team goes back to their work like this is normal—because it is. Except for Spencer, who’s still carefully re-stacking the files you knocked over, eyes darting toward Hotch’s office every few seconds like the man might implode. 2 minutes later, Hotch appears again. But this time, he’s got his suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and that special kind of father-is-done-with-your-shit face.

“Garcia, if she tries to swipe her badge again, deactivate it,” he says as he strides past.

“On it, sir,” she says with a salute, but she’s smiling. Everyone is. They’ve seen this before.

Spencer watches, confused. “Where’s he going?”

Morgan grins. “You’re about to witness a tactical extraction of a different kind.”

“Extraction?” Spencer echoes.

“Yeah. Of his daughter’s attitude.”

Outside in the parking lot, your phone buzzes again. You don’t check it. You already know what it says. You’ve barely made it to your car—keys in hand, still fuming—when you hear the sharp, familiar sound of polished dress shoes striking concrete.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You don’t even have time to climb into the driver’s seat before your dad’s voice cuts through the parking garage like a warning shot.

“Don’t you dare get in that car.”

You freeze with the door halfway open.

“Dad—”

“Out.” His tone is clipped, controlled, and unmistakably pissed. “Now.”

You slam the car door shut and turn around dramatically, arms crossed, “I already left. I made my exit. That was the whole point.”

“You made a scene. You humiliated yourself. And you disrespected someone on my team who’s done nothing to deserve it.”

You roll your eyes. “God, I barely touched the files.”

Hotch doesn’t budge. “You knocked over a federal agent’s files and flipped me off in front of my team. You’re going to walk back inside and apologize like an adult. Get. Upstairs.”

You push off the car and strut past him, tossing over your shoulder, “But you’re not getting a thank you. I’m doing this under protest.” He exhales like he’s bargaining with God not to lose his temper.

Back in the bullpen, Spencer is still carefully re-stacking the files when he hears the elevator ding again. He looks up—expecting Garcia, maybe—but freezes when he sees you marching in behind Hotch, arms crossed, lips pursed, sunglasses still on like you’re shielding yourself from the humility of being dragged back.

The entire team watches in silence. You come to a stop in front of Reid. Your chin’s high, your tone flat. “I’m sorry I knocked over your files or whatever.”

Reid, stunned by your sudden change in demeanor blinks, “Oh. Uh—thank you. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” your dad says behind you. “Say it like you mean it.”

You groan, “I’m sorry,” you say, voice syrupy-sweet now. “I didn’t mean to take my daddy issues out on you, Doctor Reid.” Spencer’s eyes widen. His brain short-circuits. “Oh my God,” Morgan mutters under his breath, laughing. Garcia fans herself. “I can’t breathe.”

“Okay,” Hotch snaps, clearly at the edge of his sanity. “We’re done here. Go back to class.”

You flash a sugary smile. “Of course, Daddy. Love ya.” You start toward the elevator again, this time with a little bounce in your step, Just as the doors begin to close, you shoot Reid a parting glance, tilt your head innocently, and say “Nice cardigan, by the way.”

a/n: I had no business writing this but here we are

⋆•★⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆★•⋆

[shitpostingsapphic]

Why I don't feel disappointed by Vi's arc, but you might

I usually have pretty strong and polarizing opinions when it comes to my takes on Arcane, but this is one where I wanna open up the discussion a bit more and invite people to my perspective, and it's fine if you don't see it this way.

I think there are two primary reasons why people feel disappointed by the arc of s2 Vi. The first, being that Vi had stronger voiced concerns about the state of Zaun in the first season. The second, being that she spent the whole show wanting to be with her sister and she didn't end up getting that.

Why I actually feel fulfilled in Vi's arc has to do with these two points, and I invite you to sit with what I have to say next.

Both of these parts of Vi have to do with her fatal flaw: her neglect of self.

We know two things based on what the creators have said about the show: the theme of Arcane is the cycle of violence, and the entire show was written together, instead of season 2 being written after season 1 production. From this, I can then ask: what do the creators want to tell their audience about this message, knowing they wrote it all out together, knowing the events of season 2 were very purposeful, using Vi as a conduit for that message?

If violence is a cycle, can one person defy it? No, of course not. At the start of Vi's arc, she wants to be a person that breaks it, though. She wants to change things in Zaun, wants a better life for her sister. As season 1 continues on, she wants to pick up where she left off with Powder without truly processing the gravity of the years between them. She thinks she can hold the world on her shoulders and fix any problem that comes her way. She thinks she can use her fists to make progress, thinks she can physically reach out and create change, but it only contributes to the cycle. And that's not because she's morally in the wrong when she does so, but she doesn't grasp yet that her fists can't fix everything. Vander tries to tell her as such in act 1, and it's a lesson that goes beyond just the literal application.

Vi's tendency to try and fix everything around her leads to her neglect of self. Inevitably, when you try to change things you have no control over, it leaves wounds. It leaves a person feeling like something is deeply wrong with them. And we watch Vi go down this spiral. I actually find myself really brokenhearted watching Vi in the first 2 acts, because I think she represents a lot of us: we see pain and devastation around us, but we don't know what the right thing to do is. We try different tactics and try to fix things and are left wondering why things feel worse than how they started.

I think that's something a lot of viewers could benefit to reflect on: I think in watching a show with strong political messaging, we yearn for a message that tells us the answers to these big problems. Truthfully, most of us don't have a fucking clue what we're doing. We want change but don't know how to see it through. That includes the writers. This isn't a show about the solution to political strife. It's about the cycle of violence. It's about not knowing how to change something that's been continuous throughout history in some form.

If we put ourselves in Vi's shoes, it would eventually take a toll on us to try and change something that isn't within our ability to change. Vi can't fix the problems in Zaun. Vi can't change the way time and distance and pain has warped her sister into someone else. In season 2 act 1, she's still trying to take responsibility for things that are outside of her control. She blames herself for the way Jinx has changed and has to tell herself that the only way to fix it is to end the cycle with her own fists. She teams up with Caitlyn because she's convinced herself it's the only way she can help. She sees how violence has devastated not only Zaun but innocents in Piltover as well, and she feels responsible for it.

BUT SHE IS NOT AT FAULT. And she cannot fix it any more than she could have created it.

Perhaps people may feel Vi's arc is lacking because they wanted to see more of her involvement in the revolution of Zaun. They wanted to see her be able to change the situation with her sister and for them to live happily together. But because of the circumstances surrounding both, for Vi to do so, she would inevitably lean into her fatal flaw. She cannot do either of those things without neglecting herself. That's not who she is.

The whole point of a character arc is for someone to be a changed person from beginning to end. If Vi starts out as someone passionate about enacting change to the point of self-destruction, what would a resolution for a character like that look like?

Vi needs to choose herself. Vi needs to release herself of the responsibility of changing the world. She can't do it. There are ways to contribute to positive change that don't involve putting the world on your shoulders, and Vi has yet to put herself first in any situation. Vi choosing love is how she does it.

Amanda Overton, one of the main writers that contributed to Vi's character and the Caitlyn and Vi dynamic and relationship, said about Vi: "If she has no one left to protect, she would fall in love". If Vi finally lets go of this crutch of hers to protect, to fight, to take responsibility for things that aren't her burden to bear, she would fall in love. She would finally be able to choose something for herself.

This is why I find her arc fulfilling. I feel like it's not an arc we really see a lot. It's not every day we have a character that starts out like the classic anime slash marvel protagonist, and instead of being the person that saves the world, they accept they're not a superhero and it's okay to choose love and personal happiness.

If it applies, and you're reading this, I want you to ask yourself: are you perhaps disappointed with her arc because you expected her to be the superhero? And would you be okay with accepting that she isn't and doesn't need to be? That it would be better for her to choose herself?

[starboye]

imagine simon who absolute despises you but not in the way you think, he hates you because you flirt with him so much yet act so innocent, like your touches will linger just a little to long or your eyes will be saying 'fuck me fuck me fuck me'

but the moment he says something about it you just say some shit like "what that's just the way i act, or do you have a secret crush on me" and now he's getting joked on by the whole team for having a crush on the new recruit

but oh the smile on his face when he finally gets his hands on you is just wow he's smiling ear to ear under that mask after price said you and him would be going on a mission... alone together

it's just a simple keep an eye out kinda thing where you guys are casing out a building from an apartment across the street for like a week and you thought you were so cheeky teasing him over and over

bending over in front of him, or walking out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel, or even wearing just his shirt because 'the laundry needed to be done'

he was so happy to finally have you under him, taking him to the balls with every stroke, no smart ass words just your eyes rolling back in your head and incomprehensible words falling from your mouth "don't have anything to say now huh, where's all that smart shit y/n" he chuckles grabbing your face to make you look up at him

you try to say something (probably a comeback) but the words get fucked right out of you and they only come out as broken moaning "yeah that's what i thought, always fucking teasing me i should fuck some manners into you" he says grabbing your legs and hiking them over his shoulders

"are you a good bitch" he grabs your face to make sure you hear every one of his words, all you could get out was a messy yes "say yes sir" he orders "y-yes sir" you couldn't even understand what you were saying with how simon was fucking your brains out, you were just following orders

"good boy now what do we say for being a fucking tease" simon asks smacking your ass with his other hand "nghhhh" was the only thing you got out "use your words like a good slut" he coos tightening his hand around your neck "sorry sir" you choke out "mhm now where do y' want my cum, huh baby" he questions

and with barely even any functioning brain left you moan out "in me please sir" and he happily obliges, filling your hole up with his load before finally puling out "now clean up and get back on watch" he smacks you ass making you whimper

by the time you and simon were off the mission and back at base everyone was asking you why you were walking all funny and you had to blame it on a training accident but simon knew it was because he was fucking the life out of you every day till you showed some respect

(god bless the lord for simon ghost riley amen)

[puck-luck]

thinking about reader who gives a hell of a lot of hickeys during sex, especially on Quinn's inner thighs and his neck/chest...

there would be sooo many, and Quinn would be at the rink the next day getting changed for practice and all his teammates are just like "what?? the fuck???" and joking ab how Quinn has a vampire for a gf LMAO

anyways :)

warnings: lotsss of hickeys, cockwarming, quinn coming inside fem!reader (DAMN y'all tryna get PREGNANT or something??????), mentions of oral (f receiving), mentions of shower sex, implications that quinn and reader don't mind their sex life being a little public... pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader request: duhhhh see up above? wc: 1099

You’ve been feeling extra needy lately. Quinn blames it on preseason starting so soon, indulging you with a little smile on his face. He knows that in just a few days, he’s going to have his first practice back with the team, and then things will kick into full gear. He won’t have all the time in the world to lay around with you, so in his own way, Quinn is treating himself by indulging you.

And it is a treat, because if he hadn’t indulged you, he wouldn’t have the weight of you on his lap. You wouldn’t be grinding against his growing cock in languorous motions as you suck a hickey onto his jaw. His hands wouldn’t be on your hips, helping guide your motions. It feels so right that Quinn can hardly imagine leaving you for a few hours– not when things like this are happening.

“Q,” you mumble into his neck, lathering a kiss over the red mark you just made.

“Hm?” Quinn replies, opening his eyes just enough to take you in when you pull away. 

“Can I sit on your cock?” You ask, blissfully innocent. 

Quinn almost dies of a heart attack then and there. It’s written all in your voice– all you want to do is sit on his cock, have him inside of you, keep him warm. You just want to be close, and who is Quinn to deny you?

“Yeah, baby,” Quinn agrees. “Just let me get out of these shorts, yeah?”

You nod and swing your leg around so you’re tucked into his side. As Quinn lifts his hips to discard his clothes and reveal his length, you lean into his chest and press a kiss over his heart. Tilting your head up a little more, you kiss over his neckline and take some of his skin into your mouth, biting softly. You leave another mark on his chest, to match the one on his jaw.

Once his cock is free from his clothes, Quinn wraps his hand around it and pumps himself slowly. It jerks in his hand when you move your mouth to the column of his neck, petting over his stomach. He makes a soft little noise as you suck.

You pull away and admire your handiwork, tilting your head and smiling at the bruise with hooded eyes. You clamber back onto Quinn’s lap, pulling your panties to the side, and sink down. Your eyes roll back as the bulbous head of his cock sinks into you, past your entrance and settling deep in your core.

Quinn lets out a long breath as you lower yourself, eyes trained on your face through his eyelashes. You’re above him, but when you’re finally seated again, your lips are just in front of Quinn’s. He can’t help but lean in and capture them, not when they’re looking so pink and plush from marking him up.

“You look pretty,” Quinn tells you, smiling like a dope.

“Mmm,” you tease, giggling a little. “You said the same thing when I had to pick you and your brothers up last week because you got too drunk.”

You reach up and trace a finger over Quinn’s nose, biting your lip to hold in a laugh when he nips at the digit and pulls your hips forward, rocking you a little bit. He fills you to the brim, pressing into you in a satisfying way that no other man has. Quinn’s it for you.

“You’re sweet,” you concede, leaning in to kiss Quinn again. 

When you part, he breathes in deeply and leans his head back on the couch, still holding your hips tightly. 

You reassume your earlier position, kissing down his neck and marking him until his skin is littered with little bruises of varying shades of red and purple. Some are sizeable, like the one on the side of his neck where his pulse raced under your tongue and you couldn’t help but dive in for more, desperate to feel him throbbing beneath you. Other hickeys are smaller, just a pinch of a mark, like the heart you artfully sucked onto his pec. 

When you’re done, you start to rock back and forth on his cock, your hands pressing against his chest for leverage. Quinn’s eyes practically fly open, a wounded groan leaving him as he flexes his muscles involuntarily. 

“I made you mine,” you tell Quinn in a low voice. “Now, you’ve got to make me yours.”

Quinn keens at that, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. His hips stutter up into you, finding an aborted rhythm because he doesn’t want to draw himself out of your heat. He needs to feel all of you, and needs for you to feel all of him. Quinn buries his face in your neck and your hands find his hair, cradling the strands and keeping him close to you.

Quinn’s other hand finds its way to your ass for leverage, grabbing the skin and kneading it with desperation. He’ll leave his own fingerprint-shaped bruises there from the force of it, and he’ll admire his marks in the shower later, when he convinces you to let him eat you out from behind. 

He whimpers when his orgasm hits, filling you with his warmth until his cock is overstimulated and spent. You kiss him, soft and slow, swallowing the groans that leave his lips.

“You’re perfect,” Quinn praises, chest rising and falling in even breaths. He continues to stare up at you like he’s kneeling at an altar. 

You smile down and push his hair out of his face, leaning in to pepper kisses over every inch of his face. He laughs and eventually pushes you away, pulling out and standing to grab a towel to clean you up. 

You cuddle on the couch for a while after, legs thrown over Quinn’s lap and head tucked against his chest. 

Three days later, when Quinn arrives to practice, the bruises still haven’t faded completely into his skin. He grins down at the little heart made of hickeys on his chest, catching his final glimpse of your marks before he pulls his pads on and prepares for practice. 

“Jesus, fuck,” Petey says from the stall next to Quinn. “Is your girlfriend secretly a vampire?”

Quinn grins at him, impish. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He sticks his tongue out at Petey like a bragging sibling, then turns back to his locker. He smiles to himself.

You’re getting your nails done right now, and he’ll have the marks on his back to show it tomorrow.

notes: hi quinn hughes i miss u and also what r the odds u and i could recreate this fic at a future date, be honest

[somuchforahobby]

what didn't stay in vegas

Summary: Ever since your arrival at the BAU Derek had been constantly flirting with you, but not his usual Garcia-sweet talk, he was all in. You had gotten used to it and actually rehearsed your comebacks. But there was someone who wasn’t so fond of it. Tags: Secret relationship / Derek is a flirttt / Hotch is jealous Warnings: once again I did not dare to write s m u t Words: 1.5K GIFS belong to: @hqtchner Read on AO3

“Hey, babygirl, how about we head for some drinks to relax after this?” He asked you as the team walked out of the precinct. 

“Oh, that’d be great! Spence can give us some tricks to survive in his hometown” You actually were interested in the offer.

“I meant in my room, sweetheart.”  He winked at you.

“Nice try, Morgan.” You laughed on his face. “We’re in sin city and I ain’t no saint.” You turned to see your secret boyfriend for a second before anybody could notice. His eyes darkened and a small smile appeared on his face.

“Sin with me, darling. I swear it’ll be worth it.” His hand landed on your waist but you removed it with your elbow.

“Those who brag are never good.” You answered over your shoulder.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“My God, get a damn room.” Emily broke the tension, tired of the exchange, and the rest of the team went quiet.

~

“It’s starting to get annoying” Aaron said against your lips once you were alone in his hotel room. “I will suspend him” he punctuated every word with a kiss.

“Don’t be so resentful, he doesn’t know I’m yours” 

“He doesn’t know what?” He pretended not to listen so you’d repeat. You laughed.

“That I’m yours” You gave him a peck on the lips.

“Besides, you can’t blame a man for trying” You kissed him again and your hands quickly worked his tie to undo the knot. A soft moan left his mouth.

“No, I can’t” he pushed you against the wall to attack your neck, while unbuttoning your shirt.

“Just because you got there earlier” 

He stopped his way to your chest to stand back and looked you in the eyes.

“Is that the only reason why?” His hand was on your jaw, holding your face upwards to maintain eye contact. He was analyzing you.

“Of course not” you bit your lower lip aware of the effect it had on him but with his thumb set it free by pulling your chin.

His eyes dangled through your face, not certain of what he was looking for.

“Oh, come on, honey, just fuck my brain’s out.” Your hands were working on his buckle but he grabbed both your wrists, lifting them above your head, holding them with one hand while the other returned to cup your cheek.

“Mmm” his furrowed brows accusing you of a crime you didn’t commit. “I don’t think you’ve earned it”

“I was real’ good today!” He smiled at your attempt. “I did not tease you in front of the team and I almost didn’t look at you.” Your innocent eyes were driving him mad.

“But you flirted with other men.”

“No, I rejected the flirtations from other men.”

“Mmm” he kept you in the same position, examining your micro expressions.

After a few seconds in silence he kissed you devotedly and softly. “I’m not really in the mood for a role-play today, honey.” He let go of your wrists and wrapped his arms around you, “I really need you.” He’d barely separate your mouths to talk. You just followed his lead to the bed, mimicking the same tenderness he was applying on your body.

~

“Is everything okay?” You asked after you finally came down from your high, head resting on his chest.

“Yeah, it’s just—“ he yawned, “not in the mood to tie you and spank you after all we saw today” he kissed your head sweetly. “Rest, you need it.” He tickled your ribs before turning your body sideways to spoon you.

As it was usual, you fell asleep in his arms.

~

His lips tracing your spine woke you up.

“What time is it?” You asked, still half asleep.

“5:45” He answered and kept kissing your bare back.

“Time for my walk of shame” you turned to see him and placed a peck on his lips. You adored the sight of him in the morning, without stress, without furrowed brows, all half lidded eyes, disheveled hair and warm skin.

“What if I steal this for today?” You asked, trying on his discarded shirt from last night.

“Why would you?” He asked, amused, still lying on the bed.

“So I can brag about the amazing man I spent the night with.” You teased him.

“It has my initials embroidered in the cuffs, I don’t think it’s a good idea” 

“I can fold them”

“No.” It was an order. “I wore it the whole day, it’s dirty.” You smelled the arms.

“It smells like you.”

“So, sweat” He laughed.

“Lotion,” you started walking round the bed “soap”, another step, “manly”, another step and he laughed, “smells like amazingly hot man” you straddled his lap and his hands quickly found your legs.

“I don’t approve”

“You’re not my boss in here.” You leaned down for another passionate kiss.

~

“Why have you chosen to punish me today?” Derek asked you the minute you crossed the precinct door.

“What you mean?” You asked, puzzled.

“You are hiding your body, babygirl, that’s just mean.” His face was filled with fake pain.

You ended up styling the shirt with straight jeans and converse, folding the cuffs to your elbow. It almost looked like a normal oversized shirt.

You took a glimpse of Aaron and he was reading some files in front of him, completely ignoring the conversation.

“That’s a man’s shirt” Spencer pointed out and the edges of your boyfriend’s mouth curled up.

“Is it?” Emily grabbed your shoulder and looked in your eyes. You only nodded. “You dirty girl.” She clapped and smiled.

“I also take trophies from my victims.” You gave the team a proud grin. Derek sighed in frustration.

When you looked up again, Aaron still had a proud smile on his lips.

~

You ended up wrapping the case that day and flying back at night.

“Now that we’re free, let’s talk about your victim.” Emily asked, she was in the seat in front of you.

“Well, he is great in bed.” You started off strong and saw Aaron blush on the other side of the plane as he read the newspaper. “A true gentleman, can’t wait to see him again.”

“Too bad you left him in Vegas” Derek interrupted your conversation.

“Yeah, maybe he could’ve given you some tips on how to treat women.” You answered, amused.

“And, where did you meet him?” JJ continued the interrogation after Morgan walked away.

“Uh” You struggled finding an answer and saw Aaron smiling even harder. “In the hotel.”

“What? Where? How?” Emily was yelling at this point. “You always get laid with random guys on the way and I never understand how you even meet them.”

“I’mma tell Hotch you’re not focused on the cases but on crossing all the states off your list!” JJ threatened.

“We eyed each other during dinner in the hotel, after you guys left to the Casino we got to talking, one thing led to another and that’s that.” You were a great storyteller and even better liar.

“Damn, you. Maybe I’m getting old and rusty.” Emily was analyzing you.

“I happen to know that it is not a problem” you teased. 

“How old?”

“I didn’t ask, my guess is around 45” 

“Single?”

“Mmm” you certainly had not thought about the civil status of your fake fuck buddy. “Yeah, he wasn’t wearing a ring.” 

“Nobody wears a ring in Vegas.”

“Baby, you out there fucking married man instead of staying home, ts ts ts” Derek scolded you.

“Fuck, it’s freezing here.” You wanted to shift the conversation & started unfolding your cuffs to cover yourself but you remembered the embroidery and decided to stand up and get a sweater from your bag. When you passed through Derek, he caught your wrists screaming.

“It has his name embroidered!” You freed yourself before he could read it.

“Leave me alone, Derek.” You were getting upset and Aaron raised his eyes from what he was reading to check on you.

“Morgan” he alerted, bossely.

You were opening the luggage compartment trying to reach for your bag, Derek chased you trying to read your cuffs.

“Derek, leave me alone” You were squirming under him while reaching for your bag.

“Babygirl” him laughing was the only thing avoiding him to restrain you. “Let me read it!”

“Get over it!” He grabbed your wrist and brought it close to his eyes.

“Morgan!” Your boyfriend’s voice made him drop your wrist and take a step back. Aaron was already standing next to you two with his usual frown. “Leave my girl the fuck alone.” He put an arm around your waist while the other got your bag and handed it to you. All while maintaining eye contact with Derek.

Derek showed his palms in surrender and walked away, the rest of the team all had their mouths open in shock.

Once you were alone enough you turned to see Aaron, surely surprised as well.

“I had enough of hiding” he said before leaning down to kiss you.

“Well that didn’t stay in Vegas” you heard Emily’s voice chuckling in the back.

[buckybarnesfic]

So, I can't believe this is the fic that takes me from a reader and reblogger to author. @buckyys-babydoll shared a picture (below the cut) in Discord and this was born and really, I got nothin'. @azriona said it needed to be posted. So I blame her too. Y'all I'm sorry. This is something.

Using the read more otherwise I'd be a hypocrite. It's 400 words of chaos.

You really didn't partake in anything, just meandering through the aisles and exhibits. There were booths set up for games and people selling items. You had perused a few of the goods booths but hadn't purchased anything yet, you wanted to see what else was available. 

It had surprised you when Bucky asked if you wanted to go to a local county fair. He wasn't normally the type to mingle among crowds. It was a nice day, the temperature hadn't reached unbearable highs quite yet for the time of year, so the walk to the festival didn't leave you worn out. 

Bucky was talking about something when you suddenly stopped short in front of him, causing him to bump into you. You were sure the visual that followed caused humor for spectators as Bucky tried to prevent the both of you from falling. 

The small chaos you caused went unnoticed for the most part, even if you had a beefy Avenger plow into you., "Bucky, I want it!" 

Bucky looked confused. "Want what?"

"That!" you exclaimed and pointed to a games booth that had a giant plush penis hanging on the side with other innocent prizes like stuffed bears and plush avocados. It even had a tiny smiling face on it. 

When Bucky realized what you were pointing at, his face changed to a mix of horror and disgust. The plushie even had balls. "What the fuck. Why?"

"It's so cute!"

No one should ever describe dick and balls as cute. It didn't matter if it was plush or real. 

"C'mon, baby," you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of the booth. It was a shooting game no less. You had to remove the star with a BB gun. "Oh Bucky! You can win it! You're a marksman!"

Bucky wished he was anywhere but right here. "No. I'm not playing so you can win a dick." His voice lowered to only you could hear. "Why would you want a fake one when you get a real one regularly. Less than three hours ago."

You pouted. "Because I can't cuddle yours."

"The fuck you can't."

"I can't exactly take it out while we watch movies with the team."

"You're not cuddling that in front of the team."

"I can cuddle it when you're gone. More than one person describes you as a dick.” Bucky narrowed his eyes as he paid the vendor and picked up the gun. He'd find out who called him a dick. It didn't take long before Bucky Jr was on his way to his new home.

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Now, I just want to start by saying I love BabBee and Dadimus. I do, 10/10 would enjoy again, but I think Y'all are neglecting the comedic and story potential of Bumblebee and Optimus meeting as ✨Adults✨ and still becoming a family.

Imagine with me, if you will, Cybertron ravaged by war. Things have fallen to shit. Megatron has been dragging these divorce proceedings out for years. Bumblebee was born around the beginning, give or take a few years, I don't care about specifics. His parents were sadly killed early on in his life due to something war related and Bumblebee has grown up alone. He manages to survive to adulthood, and he joins the Autobots. Bumblebee has been drowning in the consequences of this war since day 1 and he wants to help fix it. If Megatron won't sign the divorce papers then Bumblebee will. Yada Yada Yada Sad Backstory This is so sad, Alexa play The Less I Know The Sexy Back.

Anyhoo, Bumblebee is very good at his job as a scout. Top of the line shit, best of the best, 5 stars would eat here again. He's so good he gets promoted to work directly under Optimus Prime himself. Look at our boy go, we're so proud of him, you get that bag sister. Overtime, Bumblebee manages to become friends with Optimus (and the rest of Team Prime but we're focusing on Optimus rn) and they get pretty close. They're work besties, Bumblebee will make a joke over comms and Optimus will smile and say "I N D E E D, B U M B L E B E E.". Fucking insufferable, the both of them, it's so cute. You know how you can become friends with people twice/half your age when you're working at a hard job? That's what happened here, they've been through the (actual) trenches together, they've bonded.

So at some point, Bumblebee gets seriously injured while under Optimus's command, like some life threatening shit. Whether or not it's voicebox related is universe dependent , so we're not going to specify what happens, but it's serious. Bumblebee survives, obviously, but Optimus feels SO bad about it. Oh the Guilt is strong. When he's visiting Bee, some of this leaks out and Bumblebee tells him that he should not blame himself, Bee is choosing to fight, if he dies while fighting for the good of Cybertron, so be it. Better him than some innocent spark in the future. Plus, Bee only got hurt because of a stupid mistake he made, not anything Optimus did.

Bumblebee says this to try and reassure his friend/superior, but now Optimus feels WORSE. Bumblebee is like half Optimus's age (Bee and Optimus are whatever the Cybertronian equivalent of 20 and 40 are, respectively) and had nothing to do with the start of the war, and he's just as ready to die as Optimus is? And he's blaming himself for his injury? That he only got because Optimus told him to do something? Optimus is NOT going to let that slide, no he's not! Over his dead body! He is not crying in the club rn, what are you talking about.

Optimus has decided Bumblebee can not die now. He has declared, as the 13th Prime, that Bumblebee dying has become illegal and he will do everything in his power to enforce this new Law of The Universe That Should Never Be Broken Ever. Now, whenever the two are on a mission, Optimus tries to protect Bumblebee as best he can. He doesn't want to coddle him, Bumblebee is an adult and Optimus respects that but he'll be damned if he lets Bumblebee get seriously hurt when he could have prevented it. He also starts checking up on him when they're not fighting, asking how his day is going, how a mission went, making sure he see's a medic if he's hurt, making sure he's eating his energon, all that good stuff. Bumblebee is his friend, he's going to make sure he's okay, this is perfectly normal friend behavior. The rest of team prime is doing a similar thing, they all want to make sure Bumblebee is doing okay. Optimus isn't being parental in the slightest, he is being very normal. (Author's note: Optimus and Team Prime are being very Not normal about their emotions. All of them have some level of abandonment issues/lost-a-loved-one-itis and can no longer be normal about people they care about.)

Bumblebee recognizes what Optimus (and the rest of Team Prime) is doing. He knows that Optimus cares for him; he cares for him right back. Bee's not stupid, he knows that he's been getting some special treatment in the form of vaguely parental affection. And you know what? He likes it, a lot. He didn't get any growing up and now he's getting it from a guy he really looks up to, why would he pass this up. Bumblebee tries to return this affection he's being given in any way he can. He makes sure Optimus isn't overworking himself by visiting him while he's working, he makes sure Optimus is eating by inviting him to eat with him, he drags Optimus into the med-bay with him so he see's a medic every once in a while, he tries to make Optimus smile with his dumb jokes and antics, the whole kit and caboodle. Bee sees Optimus as some kind of parental figure, and he's going to make sure his newly acquired pop-pop is okay, just like he's doing for Bee. The Pop-Pop thing was a joke (Kind of). Why is he looking for cybertronian legal papers? That is none of your business, Bee just wants to see them for fun. No he's not drunk, the container of high grade started empty.

Life continues, Optimus (and Team Prime) continues to take care of Bee in his unknowingly parental way and Bumblebee is vibing with his newly acquired dad. It takes a while for anyone to acknowledge the new dynamic, Bumblebee just doesn't explicitly bring it up and Optimus hasn't pulled his head out of his suppressed emotion ass long enough to realize it. And keep in mind that Bumblebee is still an Adult and they are still technically coworkers, they still have a job to do, a war to win. Eventually though, maybe after the Autobots have left Cybertron, Optimus finally processes his emotions and realizes he see's Bee as family.

Optimus: Bumblebee, I care for you deeply, and I've come to see you as family.

Bumblebee: Aw, thank you! I consider you family as well. *Hands OP a data pad* In fact, you adopted me months ago.

Optimus (who did not sign any adoption papers at any time): I did what?

Bumblebee: I forged your signature.

At some point in the future, some guy is being a dick to Optimus, i don't really know what could happen, but Bumblebee steps in to defend Optimus with "That's my dad, you bitch!" and fucking slams the guy and Optimus is just standing there buffering, bc he's still getting used to showing and taking obvious affection and he approches Bee later to ask if he really considers Optimus as his dad. And Bee just kind of stares at him then points at the bumper sticker on OP's chest and says "yes, you idiot, I gave you that sticker for a reason" bc the sticker says "Worlds Best Dad" and it matches the "Worlds Best Son" sticker Bee got for himself and I'm rambling, I'll shut up now.

I made more

i did it again

[kissitbttr]

a very tiny fic of frat!miguel pining on cheerleader!y/n in college. might expand, we’ll see ;)

-

fucking. frat parties, man,

you hate it. despise it even. what’s so good about them anyway other than the fact watching dumb boys in snapbacks making a fool of themselves with drinking games?

definitely not your scene, but unluckily for you—it has always been your friends favorite thing to look forward to,

“you need to cut yourself some slack babe. this party will do you good! i promise!”

rolling your eyes, you slip on one of your favorite heels before glaring at her. “doubt it but thanks for the positivity”

“maybe todd will be there and you guys will catch up?”

“like hell we will” you scoff, walking towards the dressing table to pamper yourself,

“that shit is history, he’s a fucking dead man”

a certified douche bag, that’s what todd is. dated him in sophomore year and the relationship went for about six months before calling it quits because he had his tongue down some other girl’s throat and he had the nerve to blame it on you,

you were pretty much done with men at that point,

“she’s right” one of your friends, gloria points out. “you guys forgot what that asshole did to her, hm?”

“but” one girl steps in. “people change, right?”

you and gloria exchange looks, biting back a mocking smile at how innocent and naive the girl sounds. however, you shake your head at gloria, telling her to hold it in.

“yeah, sure” you shrug at her question, busying yourself with makeups as the other girls from behind you continue with their chatting,

“what about miguel? that tall sexy one”

your hand freezes at the name, as a collective of ooh’s and dreamy sighs fall upon your ears. yet you dismiss it anyway,

“and what about him?”

lyla, the pixie haired cut girl chimes in. “wasn’t he the one who blew you a kiss during the football game? you know, when you were cheering”

it was the championship game, one after finals had ended. you and your cheerleading team were on the sidelines doing the stunts. one of the duties of being one was to cheer for your home team. being extra perky and all smiley,

he scored another touchdown within the last ten seconds, in which the crowd had erupted into loud cheers. this man sure got some speed on his feet,

you clapped your poms poms together, jumping in excitement while yelling out his jersey number. the rest of the girls are doing the same thing, some even louder than others. leading the crowd to loudly chant his last name,

miguel took his helmet off, smiling proudly at the full audience while bumping his chest with his fist. then his eyes landed on you, smile going wider as he watched you cheer for his team,

then he did it. blew you a kiss as he waved. mouthing a ‘that one’s for you’ before winking, in which you only rolled your eyes at the respond. you truly had no time entertaining another heartbreaker on campus.

that man maybe devilishly handsome and charming, but he also shared some highly disturbing amounts of girls in his dorm,

or so you have heard.

his friend jogged towards him, clasping his hand around miguel’s shoulder,

“new girlfriend, o’hara? or looking for a quick fuck?”

if it was any other circumstances, he’d punch him for saying that about you. but he was far too entranced by your beauty to actually give a shit. instead he smiled, eyes refused sto leave yours as he watched your body move.

“girlfriend. working on it, compá”

his voice is confident. almost like he’s sure that you’ll be his. and you will

miguel finds you to be far more intriguing than the rest. beautiful, top of the class, fucking funny too. ever since he had exchanged a couple words with you during one the class you both shared, you pretty much occupy his mind from there.

and he had watched you punch one of the guys at his party one time so safe to say you’re the reason why his dick is hard for the rest of the night

“not only that. he touched down and said it was for you, didn’t he?! ugh! i am so freaking jealous!”

it’s almost funny how hopeless romantic most of your friends are. i mean sure, you are too, who isn’t? but you would argue that if it wasn’t coming from miguel, those girls probably won’t be swooning like right now,

“you both are overreacting. he was just in the heat of the moment.”

“nuh uh” gloria shakes her head in disagreement, scoffing with a small smirk. “she’s right, that boy wants you. he wants you bad. like ‘24/7 deep dick inside your pussy and won’t let you walk straight after fucking’ wants you”

“a very… vivid detail, gloria…” you widen your eyes with a laugh while the other girls agree. “but okay”

“how do you even know that?”

“beck said so” she shrugs, making you look at her with a deadpan expression. “what? me and him went back to fucking, don’t judge me!”

a snort escapes your lips, tugging the lipgloss back out of your makeup pouch before unscrewing the tube,

“he’s like a total player, no? i don’t think i could get together with a man who sticks his dick into any hole”

“that’s not true. they’re just rumors”

“yeah, wasn’t dana the only girl he had ever dated?”

“no that was xina. dana fucked his brother”

“what?!”

“isn’t it the other way around?”

“i’ve never seen him with girls that often. your opinion could be wrong y/n”

you brush it off and let the girls gossip in the back. whether it’s true or not, staying away would probably better. after todd, you don’t think you can afford another heartbreak.

fucking. men

-

the party had started a few hours ago, and it’s packed. a lot of students come and start filling up the house, the sound of asap rocky’s ‘frat rules’ booming through the speakers.

it’s not even close to midnight but miguel already spot a few kids getting drunk and throwing up in the backyard making him winces in disgust. he has told a few of his friends to keep an eye for broken furnitures but he doubts any of them listen,

they’re far too busy exchanging saliva with some of the girls from the sorority,

“yo o’hara! beer pong later! you’re on my team!”

peter, one of his frat brothers yells. miguel looks over his shoulder to see him standing by the pong table with the others, he has his arm around a red haired girl’s shoulder.

miguel flashes a smile, head shaking as he fixes himself a beer from the keg. “count me out, parker. go find other team player”

“oh boo! you’re no fun these days, o’hara! don’t tell me you’re standing by to see if she’s coming?”

“wait, miguel’s crushing on someone?” the red haired asks

“i told you babe, it’s the girl from cheerleading team”

miguel doesn’t respond, because peter is right. he has been scanning over the room, pacing back to back to see if you’re here yet. a disappointment sigh leaves his mouth each time he fails to find you,

his frat brothers think he’s gone crazy. because why would he get himself so worked up over one girl when there’s dozens of others lining up to get dicked down by him? pretty ones even,

but that’s the thing, miguel doesn’t find hooking up to be something that needs to be praised for. why would he pat himself on the back for screwing half of the sorority sisters? or bet on who gets to be the lucky bastard to get into the quiet girl’s panties?

gross. that’s for sure. but it seems that his brothers think otherwise. he has no say in that, obviously. to each their own.

“she’s coming, dude. chill. you’ve been eyeing the goddamn door non-stop” beck chuckles, sipping on his beer can

he ignores him, clicking the tongue against his teeth. “you told gloria, right? to bring her here?”

“i did. so stop worrying. enjoy for a bit”

beck leaves him with that, not before bumping miguel’s shoulder lightly with his fist, leaving miguel with his brows furrowed and lip in a small pout,

‘where are you?’ he thinks,

“hey miguel”

a feminine voice pulls him out of the trance, in which he quirks an eyebrow and notices a short haired girl appears by his side, dragging her long manicured nails down his bicep,

“not interested” he shoots her a quick glare before averting his gaze back towards the door,

the girl pouts, taking the bold move by resting her temple against his shoulder in which he shakes her off causing her to gasp,

“the fuck o’hara?!”

“i told you. not interested. beat it” he downs his red solo cup before scrunching it, licking his lips. “go find another guy to bang”

she huffs at that, stomping her feet like a child like her parents refuses to give her candy,

“i mean it. move, i am not—“

“y/n! gloria! you two made it!”

that does it for him. soon as he hears your name falls from beck’s mouth, his gaze never moves quicker. seeing his frat brother by the entrance, greeting gloria with a kiss and you’re standing by gloria’s side with a small smile,

oh god, you.

who looks absolutely breathtaking tonight. adorned in a pretty pink dress that hugs your curves in the right way, your makeup is light and he’s thankful for that. long thick hair fall against your back, leaving your shoulders exposed,

simple yet look so expensive,

miguel pays no mind to the girl besides him, simply just walking away. he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge the people who congratulates him on the win as he strides closer to you,

“y/n y/l/n… what a sight for sore eyes it is to see you, muñeca”

a familiar voice saying your name makes your head turn, seeing who it is. the head of fraternity. miguel o’hara,

he has his arms crossed, causing his biceps to bulge a bit, making him look bigger than he already is. you eye the outfit he has on. a black muscle tank and grey sweatpants. chocolate hair tucked into a bright red snapback that he props on backwards,

he shoots you a flirty smirk, walking a little bit closer just enough to create a small gap between the two of you,

“miguel o’hara” you speak his name, faking a smile. “surprised to see you still sticking around here. i thought you’d be by your room already, pleasuring another girl”

he winces playfully, hand over his heart pretending to be hurt. “ouch, muñeca” a small chuckles leaves his mouth as he watches you roll your eyes, “always with the horrible assumptions. care to play nice this time?”

you glance at him with a scoff. “we both know that’s a fact. you always leave with a girl, don’t you?” you question, eyebrows furrowing as you tilt your head to the side,

he hums, scanning the room before looking back at you. “false. but i’ll let you believe what you want to believe, muñeca.”

you try to guess if he’s being sarcastic with it or actually telling the truth, and you swear it’s the latter. however, you refuse to fall for it,

“what do you want, o’hara?” you sigh, sipping on the beer gloria had offered earlier,

with a chuckle, he leans against the nearest wall, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants. “is it a crime for me to talk to a pretty girl i have a crush on? is there any written policies about that?”

your heart flutters when he calls you pretty. not to mention, a crush?

yeah okay, you do find him extremely attractive and sexy. like, really really sexy. guilty as charged. but who doesn’t think so? his dashing smile and seemingly soft hair do make you a little bit crazy. he’s a total heartthrob on campus.

not only is he the vice captain of the football team but he’s one smart student. passes every class, rarely get a score below B’s. no wonder why teachers are chasing his ass for him to tutor some of the students.

and if that’s not enough, you know how much he loves to spend his time volunteering at local organizations, doing food kits for donations even providing a cost-free child care around the community,

he’s almost—too good to be true.

“i’m flattered, truly. but flirting won’t get you anywhere, mr.” you wag your finger side to side,

“seriously?”

“seriously”

“wow” he breathes out a sigh, faking a disappointment. “i got to try harder than that then”

a giggle leaves your mouth, head shaking. “my advice? stop trying, o’hara”

“i can’t do that, muñeca”

you tilt your head to the side,. “and why’s that?”

“i just told you”

“hm. surely there are other girls out there, o’hara”

“i don’t want them”

“persistent aren’t you?”

“kind of” he casually shrugs. “why, you don’t like it?”

“quite the opposite”

“and why is that entertaining to you?” he asks with a smirk,

“i like seeing men desperate. i like seeing them beg for something they know they can’t have” you bite down onto your lower lip. your respond is not meant to be flirty, but more of like a playful statement.

yet somehow, it triggers something in him. something good.

his eyes flicker down to your mouth, puffing out a deep breath. “shit, you’re making it harder for me now” he mumbles, tongue sticking out to wet down his lip,

“harder to what exactly?”

“to not want you” he replies bluntly, tone changes into a serious one. but it doesn’t come off as a lust or desperation,

your smile falters a little when you realize how serious he becomes. swallowing a lump on your throat, fingers digging into the skin of your arms. eyes are now onto his, and you don’t quite get why it feels so difficult to just look away,

“miguel i—“

“shit, i ruined it, didn’t i? eres un idiota” he curses himself with a grunt shaking his head. hands on his hips “sorry, i’m just— fuck you look so good right now muñeca and there’s like a million things going through my mind when i look at you—“

“miguel—“

“obviously i’m not going to tell you because it’s pg-13 all up in here” he points at his head. “and i don’t want to scare you—“

“miguel—“

“but i went past puberty so i’m not some kind of horny teenager that—“

“miguel! jesus, shut up!” you finally exclaim, and that does it for him. his movements stop when he hears you yell out his name,

clearing your throat, you regain your posture before setting the beer down on the nearest table,

“listen i—i just don’t know what to say after that” you begin with a nervous laugh, tucking a loose hair behind your ear. “you have a crush on me?”

his bushy brows dip into a frown. “didn’t i make it clear these past few weeks?”

“huh?”

“i brought you lunch, let you borrowed my favorite pen during class, i even asked your number through gloria but she didn’t want to give it to me” his shoulders slouch in disappointment. “i’ve had a crush on you since— I don’t know, too long. you’re a tough woman to please, muñeca. i give you that”

“that’s only one time! how am i supposed to know that you weren’t just looking to hook up?”

“ay dios mio! if i wanted to just have sex with you, i would try to get closer with you during a party! which is… technically what i’m doing right now but— that’s not the point!” he groans, rubbing his hands all over his face in frustrations,

“you seriously didn’t notice the signs?!”

“those weren’t fucking signs, dumbass. try to do more than being subtle, why don’t you?!”

“well it’s hard when you keep dodging me and rolling your eyes everytime i talk to you!”

“how can i?! when you slept with like half of the sorority girls on campus?!”

“how many times do i have to tell you that what you hear is not true? i don’t know where you got that from but i can assure you that i haven’t fucked anyone in months! and the idea of hooking up with random girls doesn’t sound appealing to me! want some prove? ask my brothers about that, go on! or ask beck, he’ll tell you the truth. that man is prone to never lying”

you go quiet. face softening a little,

“wait… then what about the girls i saw you walking with after a party?”

“to walk them safely to their cars or their dorm room. that’s it” he explains, watching the surprised look on your face.

“now.. how do you see me?”

you feel terrible for believing all those rumors first before actually knowing it’s confirmed or not. you are taught to never ever judge a book by its cover and you just did,

fuck you’re a terrible person,

“oh..” you mutter softly. “shit—i’m so sorry miguel, I didn’t know”

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it”

“what? no! i was acting like a complete bitch! ugh fuuuuck” you whine, stomping your heel on the ground as miguel watches in amusement,

‘you’re adorable’ he wanted to say,

“i feel terrible—no, i am actually” you grumble, “how can i make it up to you?”

a bright smile spreads across his face. “allow me to get to know you throughout the night? no funny business i promise”

his eyes are glinting with hope when he looks at you, feeling nervous that you might reject him but he’s not letting you see that,

you mirror his expression, feeling your cheeks warm by his question. “miguel—i’d love to but… no offense, i kinda didn’t want to go to your party in the first place, i only went because gloria asked me to and uhm.. i don’t know if i wanted to stay, actually—it’s not because of you but mainly because my social battery had died even before i got here”

“we don’t have to stay—we can go out. we’ll pick a place and go or you can pick, i’m down with whatever”

with wide eyes, you reply “what?”

“yeah. there’s a good diner i always go to when i’m craving for a good burger or a shawarma truck down the street. they don’t have tables and everything but we can order and eat in my car.”

“unless you have better options, it’s cool” he adds

you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach but it’s hard not to when he’s being extremely… attentive?

my god, is this actually miguel o’hara? the man who’s painted to be heartless and a player?

“mig- this is your party. you can’t just leave” you softly laugh. “we can catch up another time, i hate to be—“

“it’s fine, muñeca. this party is good as it can be without me. besides” he reaches into his pocket to grab his keys,

“i’d like to spend time with you.. is that… okay?”

he’s being careful with his words, because he doesn’t want to scare you off or come off desperate. the last thing he needed was to have you feel repulsed by him,

you give him with a soft smile, looking up at his ruby eyes with your pretty doe ones and from then on, miguel is absolutely sure that he’s in. so fucking in that he knows there is no way out,

it’s not like he wants it any other way

“that’s okay”

-

i was going to make her super mean and bitchy but i figured i’d use that for some other time,

also please tell me this doesn’t sucked. i hate for this one to flop because i might start to fall in love with these pairings

feel free to send your ideas and thoughts about these two

(i might actually write one where they both meet the first time)

[kafka-ish]

Thinking about Stanford!Art who’s a little mean but also really fucking charming. Now that Patrick’s out of the picture & girls are giving him more attention than usual it occurs to him that he is attractive. He’s a fucking catch with his backwards cap and shaggy blond hair that peeks out from under it, curling at the nape of his neck.

He probably hangs out with a bunch of frat kids even though he didn’t rush but some guys on his team did and the other ones remind him of his old classmates from MRTA. He’s like a brother by association.

And no one knows what he’s majoring in; all he talks about is tennis or how he’ll be hosting a pregame at his place or how much he hates his professor for the bio class he has to take. Everyone knows he’s gonna go pro so what does it matter anyway?

Which is precisely why he’s the king of being friends with benefits. He had five at the same time at one point but made the mistake of them all being from the same sorority :( Word got around. Obviously…

Now he just hooks up with random girls he meets at parties occasionally.

And maybe it’s Halloween & he’s dressed as Federer because he already has everything for it and he doesn’t feel like dropping thirty bucks at Spirit last minute. Now he’s in SAE’s frat house in his usual tennis get-up save for his backwards hat, which he’s traded for a sweatband for the time being.

He’s in the only room people aren’t dancing, playing beer pong against a pledge. Even drunk, his aim is perfect.

And he’s about to get the final shot when he sees you among the crowd that’s been swarming him and the other freshman for the past ten minutes. It’s the first time he misses and his audience seems more concerned than he is.

Art couldn’t care less. Abandons the game completely; someone else cuts in while he’s making his way toward where you’re standing. He has to physically push past the bodies that are in his way. Doesn’t even say excuse me. He’s in too much of a hurry just for the chance to talk to you, even if it’s just to say hello.

“What happened there?” You say, first. “You were doing so well.”

“Guess I got distracted,” he hums, quiet in contrast with the music, loud enough to hear. Or maybe he’s just that close. He blames it on the overflow of people.

His eyes twinkle in the dim of the lighting; you’re not sure if it’s from the alcohol or another reason. “Too bad. You almost had him.”

He snorts. “Yeah well… there’s something else I’d rather have.” Bold. But even so, you can’t help your cheeks that start to warm at the insinuation. It’s your first party of the semester and the hottest boy in the room is already hitting on you. The hottest boy who also happens to be Art Donaldson, and who are you to say no to him?

“You wanna go somewhere quiet?” He asks after you don’t respond to his comment.

An idiot. You’d be a fucking idiot to decline him when here he is, practically begging.

You nod your head.

He takes you upstairs to someone’s room where the two of you can be alone — “this is better, right? Now I can hear your pretty voice.” — his hand still holding yours as he shuts the door.

And he plays it innocent, at first. Says he’s never seen you before which is insane because someone so gorgeous shouldn’t be hiding themselves away. It’s cruel, really.

“For you or for me?”

He smiles at this. “What do you think?”

Art doesn’t have you strip for him just yet. Somehow, he’s convinced you to play twenty questions. He wants to get to know you, a direct quote from him. You feel like you’re in middle school again. All giddy, sitting next to a boy who hasn’t even touched you. It’s until you’re six questions in when, finally, he makes a move.

“What color panties are you wearing?”

“You want me to tell you?” You know what he’s trying to do. You want in on the fun too.

“Not really.” He wears a smirk while his fingers pinch at the hem of your skirt.

“Why’d you ask then?”

“Just making sure I have your permission.” His head tilts to the side and you think he’s going to kiss you but he doesn’t. Fucking tease. He just pouts and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes but he’s still the one in charge.

You look down at his hand that hasn’t yet left your leg. Look back at him. End up kissing him, like it was your idea in the first place, unable to draw out your guys’ game that would further prolong the wait.

He tastes like beer and spearmint. You can smell the remnants of his aftershave already sinking into your skin. His kisses are experienced, choreographed just like the rest of his life is. His lips are soft as they work on yours, massaging them. He opens his mouth, slightly nipping at your bottom one and soon enough, you’re swallowing his tongue.

His hand moves from your skirt’s hem to the zipper, undoing it, then slipping it off. He pulls apart and looks down. “You know, red’s my favorite color.”

He leans you onto the sheets and presses a quick kiss to your lips before trailing down to suck at your neck. His teeth graze your skin making your breath hitch and his tongue swipes over the spot he’s just bitten.

He kisses all the way down to the panties he’s been admiring, slow and patient. Takes off your top in the process. Sucks a hickey onto your hipbone then kisses the inside of your thigh before really getting started.

He grins, almost twisted, when he pulls your underwear down your legs. He takes pride in the fact that he eats girls out. A lot of guys don’t do that.

And for a minute, he just smiles as he looks at your cunt, now bare to him. “You have such a pretty pussy,” he tells you unabashedly.

You blush, covering your face with your forearm.

“Hey.” He leans over you, grabbing your wrist, exposing you to him. “I want to watch you while I go down on you.” He resumes his position, tongue immediately finding your clit, licking a big stripe over it before suctioning his lips to your skin that’s sensitive. You feel him kiss you before his tongue moves in patterns, shapes no boy has ever bothered concerning themselves with before. It doesn’t dawn on you, too lost in it all, that he’s spelling out Donaldson.

You think he’s finished until his tongue pushes into your cunt, fucking it, just like he would if it were his fingers or any other appendage. And he’s true to his word: his eyes look up at you, gauging your expression while he does this. He presses a kiss to your clit when you cum on his lips, then climbs on top of you to press one to your mouth. He groans, knowing you can taste yourself.

He makes you cum a second time that night before kissing your forehead; says that was fun we should do it again sometime and slips out the door, leaving you to put on your clothes and digest what just happened.

On Monday he freezes when he walks into the bio class he hates. He didn’t realize you were in this section, sitting just a few seats diagonally from him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey! I know you’ve been writing a lot of Bob and Void stuff, but do you write for Walker? I don’t k ow why, and maybe I’m a little odd for thinking this, but I would like him as my big brother figure. Prehaps I could request platonic hcs of him where he and reader act like siblings? Reader is chaotic sunshine and they get on each other’s nerves, but they do truly care for each other!! Bonus points for bits of Bob x reader x void hehe

I love Wyatt Russell (hate Walker tho) so I’ll make an exception for you anon. this might have more bob x reader x void then necessary. I think Walker would be an okay sibling at best.

Major PSA for idiots and dipshits: Also if you don’t wanna read the John and reader sibling dynamic, just skip to the Bob x reader x void section do the headcannons or don’t bother reading this, I’m not holding your hand when most of you are grown adults who are responsible for what you read. (Though I question that level of responsibility everyday the more I hear you moan about fuck all since you’ve got nothing else to do) so don’t blame me for what you consume. Grow up or continue to show your ass like you typically do.

you didn't like walker and you typically liked everyone and will always let it be known as whenever you were working on your aim, you'd intentionally aim for him much to Walker's annoyance.

'Can you stop shooting for me, for five mintues!' he exclaims as he looks at you as you only smiled innocently back at him.

'i don't know what your talking about.' you tell him 'i'm trying to shoot for you but you keep moving like an annoying cockroach that refuses to die.' you added as Yelena, who was stood next to you this entire time, tried to hold back a laugh but failed.

'i'm really feeling the love here team.' walker says sarcastically, lightly swatting your bicep in a repremending act, only to get a smack to his bicep in return.

'we love you too john!' you called after him as you looked back at Yelena as she looked at you with a knowing smile. 'what?' you asked her.

'you might not be family but you and john act like you could've been siblings in another life.' yelena says and you couldn't help but make a face. You were well aware that your relationship with US Agent was an odd one, you acted like you hated each other but the way it came across was more like siblings flipping each other off from the doorways of your own rooms.

which is something you both actually did do on the odd occasion, walking by the doorway of eachothers rooms within the Watchtower and flip each other off wordlessly, it didn't matter if you had company either, you'd still flip each other off regardless. much to the amuesment of the other Thunderbolts.

you both often get asked if you two were in fsct siblings, only for you and john to look at each other as though it was an insult as you both replied simultaneously with a ‘no.’ even if there were times where John did make sure you ate, drink and took proper care of yourself when he thought that you were neglecting yourself more then you should.

He’s even drag you out of the room if he felt that you were isolating yourself in there for his liking. I’m talking busting down your door and dragging you out by your legs as you kick and scream at him to let go, all the while he’s telling you to get out and socialise with the rest of the team instead of being a hermit/ bedroom gremlin. ‘Fuck off!’ You scream at John, ‘what if I want to stay in bed and do nothing.’

‘No can do, now go out with Yelena, Ava or Alexi and socialise and get some fresh air instead of suffocating in the stuffy air of your room for god sake.’ John replied as he shoved you towards Ava and Yelena as you shot him a look over your shoulder as you followed your favourite teammates. ‘Have fun!’ He sarcastically waves at you while you only show him your middle finger. ‘Kids.’ He mutters under his breath as Alexi pats him on the shoulder ‘you’re a good older brother.’ He tells John as the dirty blonde waves it off.

He didn’t think he was fit to be an older brother figure, but you brought that side out of him with how easily it was to annoy one another, he still remembered when you took his helmet and gun and painted them a glittery pick mess. He couldn’t complain at the time as the mission was integral, but he did indeed give you a mouthful afterwards about touching his stuff and fucking with them.

John swears you give him a headache almost on the daily but he’s certain that he does your head in too. So the feeling was mutual as far as he was aware.

Yet you do have moments where the care you had for one another comes through on missions as you two were usually paired up together and the protectiveness came out when the other was in close proximity to danger. You’d shove John out the line of fire, he would shove you behind him when he saw someone aiming for you, shielding you both when they open fired on you both.

Your care for each other was silent but it was there in the small acts you do for one another in a rare moment of reminding that while you acted like you couldn’t stand each other, you were there for one another regardless of the shit you’ve both done.

BOB X READER X VOID

Now when you met Bob, you found him to be cute, slightly clumsy and awkward but in an endearing way that made you want to know him more, his puppy dog eyes didn’t help make matters better as you as you were quick to find yourself spending more time with Bob and ultimately catching feelings for him.

He was meek and barely meet your eyes half of the time when you talked to him, but yet he seemed to stay with you in comparison to the rest of the group, always shoulder to shoulder to you and sharing smiles with you from across the room as butterflies fluttered within your stomach.

‘What’s your name.’ You asked.

‘Bob.’ Bob replies with a small smile, a cute smile you’d determine as you noted how small he tried to make himself look despite his tall and strong stature. There was more to him then you could see clearly, you could tell that this man was of great importance that you assumed that even Bob himself wasn’t aware of just yet.

‘We’ll get along just fine Bob.’ You tell him as he made a face similar to that of a confused puppy, a handsome cute man that you could already tell you’d get dangerously attached towards within embarrassingly short time. ‘How’d you know that?’ He asks.

You shrug your shoulders. ‘Call it a hunch but I just think we’ll work well together.’

‘I’ll trust your hunch then.’ Bob says with a smile and you knew immediately that you were fucked, he was even pretty when he smiled too with how his eyes shined and how his poetically radiated warmth and comfort that you wanted to bask yourself in forever.

Bob would find himself trusting himself within your presence more than others on the team, even going so far as you reach out and grab your hand in his and audible sigh at the touch, having gone without it for longer then he could remember. So needless to say you had become his primary person to look out for him, or just be there for him when the others went on missions and needed someone to be there with Bob until they get back.

You didn’t care as it meant you got to spend all the time possible with him as you made sure that when you were cooped up in the watch tower you would make sure that you and Bob were having fun however you could. Whether that be trying -and failing- to get into baking some cookies or watch tv together where characters make questionable decisions and Bob got to be highly amused by how annoyed you’d get when someone does something stupid.

Sometimes it got so bad to the point where he’d have to stop you from doing something rash as you ate half burnt cookies in a rather aggressive manner as you scowled at the television. It was a highlight for Bob as he got to be with you and experience all of you in your entirety. Only to end up finding himself falling more and more for you yet still being hesitant in calling the deep feelings he had for you as love or like.

So Bob takes his time with you and learns just as much about himself as he does learn about you in the process the longer he got to know and like every single part of you the more quality time you both shared without the rest of the Thunderbolts ruining it with their loud selves.

Void was equally intruded by you as much as Bob was and while he didn’t come out as often, he still was there within Bob as he got to go out with you on small trips together, or simply spending moments together in the watchtower.

He’s aware of all the moments shared between you and Bob and decided that he wanted that too, and to be selfish and more forward then meek, awkward Bob was about his own feelings that were now fully developed. Void understood what it was that he felt towards you and didn’t need anymore time to dissect and digest it, for whatever he wanted he would get sooner or later.

So don’t be surprised when you thought you were sharing a moment with Bob, only to be met with the pinprick eyes of Void as the entity merely chuckles at your look of surprise as he walks through your room as though he’s done it many times before.

‘Don’t look so surprise little bird.’ He tells you, his voice more confident and fuller then bob’s second guessing one, as though he wasn’t confident in using his own voice never less recognise it as if own, whereas void was fully aware of who he was and didn’t need to second guess himself when everything he did was absolute and precise.

‘You shouldn’t wear that face with me, when you look at Bob as though your moments away from grabbing him and kissing him at least.’ Void adds as you looked at him as he admired the photos you’ve took of yourself and fellow thunderbolt teammates and Bob.

Now with void you were a little more conflicted on how you felt towards the shadowy entity who could make people into shadows with a wave of his hand, a powerful being whom you’ve came across on occasions but he never did anything for you to detest him, only ever caress your cheeks and standing rather close to you for whatever talk to be considered casual.

He was bolder than Bob in what he wanted as void had kissed the back of your hand, drawn you close to him and even held you on rare occasions that you still think about at night, occupying your thoughts as you were conflicted on how to feel about void after what Bob had told you about feeling this endless darkness within him. One that only got worse when you were near him, as though it wanted to greet you personally.

Yet you couldn’t help but find Void charismatic and intriguing as the more you got to see him, which was mainly when you and Bob was alone or when everyone was asleep at night. He was dangerous and you knew that well enough to be cautious towards him but yet at the same time you couldn’t help but be drawn to Void whenever you do get to talk to him.

‘Where’s my kiss little bird? Am I not deserving of one unlike your precious Bob? Hmm?’ Void asks as he stepped close to you, his pinprick eyes looking deep into your own as your forced to admit that they were beautiful in their own right, in their own unique and unsettlingly way but beautiful nonetheless.

You would respond but you didn’t get the chance to becuase as soon as you blinked Bob was back in front of you, leaving you to process what had just happened just moments prior while Bob only looked at you in concern.

‘Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you did he?’ He’d ask as he placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eyes for anything that could give away to him if void did anything or not.

‘No, he didn’t.’ You replied to calm his nerves as he pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back as you gripped him tight, not truly grasping what you had gotten yourself into.

[jilyandbambi]

Everything about how Coach Ben's Trial plays out just makes me feel so sad and devastated for all of them. I can't even hate them for what they did or are about to do. They're just kids, man.

Shauna is grieving and angry and postpartum and scared, and she's got nowhere to put any of that except onto Ben, the grown up--who didn't burn the cabin down but who did turn away from her when she needed him most. It's a powerful thing when you're that age and angry/sad/frustrated about everything (bc you're a kid) and to have a safe adult to be pissed at: an adult who cares but isn't perfect (no one is, and you're a kid so you're still learning to accept this), who let you down right at the exact moment you needed them to be the Grown Up with all the answers, and maybe their fuck up was only one of 254884113 things going wrong in your life at that point but you're 17--old enough to know that adults don't have all the answers and young enough that it still feels like they should, and when they don't, that's their fault too.

It's irrational, immature, and dangerous (Thy name is Shauna Shipman), which is what kids are, and what each of these kids are, to varying degrees; and why Shauna gets her way in the end.

It isn't their coach's fault that their plane crashed, that they starved for months, that they resorted to eating their team captain, that they let Javi drown so they could gut him and eat him, that Shauna's baby was stillborn, or that their cabin burned down. But they're kids and everything is awful and in between all the awful the adult in the room dropped the ball when they needed him, and now the trauma, and guilt, and shame, and pain, and rage has to go somewhere, and Coach Ben is a more tangible target than an invisible wilderness god. It doesn't matter that he clearly didn't set the fire and doesn't wish them any harm, the lie is too convenient.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Mari doesn't have to own up to the fact that she didn't tell the truth when she got back to camp, that she let the others continue thinking their coach was out there still hunting them.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, there's no need for Travis to rock the boat and stand up for the only other person besides himself to be as disgusted and horrified at what the others did to his little brother.

If Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, Van (the only other person besides Shauna and Melissa to vote Guilty every time) doesn't have to worry about the others taking a second look at what her sleepwalking girlfriend could have been doing the night of.

If Coach Ben didn't set the cabin on fire, Tai might have to poke deeper at Van's insistence on his guilt despite all evidence to the contrary, and she might not like the answer. Add to that, if Coach Ben is innocent, then Nat was right to keep what she knew from the rest of them and Tai was wrong to collude with Shauna to her call her out in front of everyone, and maybe that makes Nat a better choice of leader than Tai would've been after all.

If the wilderness says Coach Ben set the cabin on fire, then maybe it's finally starting to speak to Lottie again, maybe she hasn't completely lost her connection to it after all.

And it's so, so fucked up because beneath all of them rallying behind this cruel, vengeful, childish decision to blame Coach Ben anyway is an understandable desire to have a say in all the uncertainty and turmoil that's taken over their lives by this point. That adolescent need for control--not just over your environment but your emotions, especially the negative ones--can make kids living in the best circumstances lash out. Here, with everything the Yellowjackets have been through and have already done, it was always going to have the worst possible outcome. And watching it all play out as an adult is just--ughhhhh. Heartbreaking.

Because that adolescent turmoil that makes you an angry freakshow who lashes out at the right people at the wrong times, or (more often than not) the wrong people at the wrong times--sometimes knowingly? That's normal. This is the time to be that way. You're supposed to have the space to get it all out and grow past it.

But the Yellowjackets don't and won't, and it'll ruin them, especially the ones that make it out alive.

Yeah, Shauna, taking your rage and grief out on Coach Ben feels good to you now; taking any action, even if it's clearly the wrong one, feels powerful and right in the moment, but it won't last. The rest of you lemmings letting her have her way for your own reasons feel justified for now, but that won't last either. By the time the full weight of what you've done hits you, it'll be too late. When the regret comes you won't know how to face it and you never will, and so you'll be stuck. You'll be 17 and haunted at 20 and 30 and 45, still getting in your own way and not realizing it until it's too late. You'll get older but you'll never grow up, and you'll never understand why.

[siggiedraws]

What’s your thoughts on idw silver, I personally think he is ok but I feel like the idw comic didn’t really do very well with his character.

I can't say I like him... at all.

American Sonic media already has a history of needless and quite frankly terrible changes, whether made out of ignorance, xenophobia towards Sonic Team/SoJ, some vague, made-up sense of marketability, or all three. So, I'm already wary of media like that. They always change fundamental aspects of Sonic's appeal and are supremely unenjoyable to me as a result.

To stay on track here - why do I dislike IDW Silver? The main reason is that I think he's portrayed as way too polite and nice to people. He has no backbone. It's as if he was just based off of popular fanon or Archie comics, rather than the source material. I don't blame anyone for thinking Silver is some timid, polite sweetheart if fanon and IDW/Archie is all they have consumed, but I'm doing my best to dispel that notion for the sake of conquering misinformation. As a casual fan, it is understandable to have misconceptions, but I'm going to be much more harsh to official media.

I need to hammer home the fact that Silver is rude and often talks down to people. Sonic '06, Silver's debut game, showcases this very well. In an '06 cutscene, he talks down to Sonic after attacking him when his guard was down. The casual stride over to a wheezing, incapacitated Sonic kills me. The disrespect is fucking crazy.

In the level Flame Core, he acts haughty and superior about his abilities, even letting out a light chuckle at how pathetic the enemies are. And, a detail that is easy to miss, he doesn't even apologize for trying to kill Sonic.

That's not even mentioning the Rivals games being a wonderful source of Rude Silver™, where there are too many snide remarks to count.

IDW Silver is a telltale case of Silver's nuance being stripped so that he only represents one trait of his- that trait being "naivety." Silver's naivety is mentioned twice by Blaze in Sonic '06 because this is relevant to the story. Naivety is Silver's fatal flaw that leads to him being easily manipulated by Mephiles. However, his naivety isn't due to some innocent, childlike outlook on the world. Silver takes everyone at face value and always assumes people are telling the truth to him due to a lack of social skills. This is why, when Silver mentions something outlandish or unbelievable to people, he is confused why they don't believe him. This is shown in both Rivals 2 and the Sonic x Silver wallpaper cover story.

IDW seems to completely miss this nuance and conflates "naivety" with childlikeness and innocence. When you realize this, decisions put towards Silver's characterization in IDW makes a lot of sense - his hyperactive excitement and adulation over Whisper is a good example, but how he doesn't talk back to Sonic calling him "flatware" in Issue 8 particularly bothers me.

Realistically, Sonic would immediately get thrown into a wall if he said this to Silver.

Portrayals like IDW Silver are just so utterly confusing. How in the world does Silver get misconstrued this way, into something entirely opposite of what he is, in both fanon and official media? To be completely honest, it makes me frustrated. I want things to change and I feel like I have to speak up. I ended up writing an essay about Why Silver is Rude. I'm sorry anon.

[ladykailitha]

Murder in the Heartland Part 1

Here it is, the most wonderfully insane idea I've ever come up with and I've had some whoppers (Steve in a mental institution and Vecna's Timeloop from Hell for example). This is still the wildest. Only that's a twist that's coming up way down the line. My wonderful discord peeps @forgottenkanji, @dreamercec, @bookworm0690 know all, but you'd have to join my discord to be in on the secret (there are other lurkers there who might know, but they might not *shrug*).

Summary: When a serial killer strikes Hawkins, the police zero in on Eddie Munson. But when the last would-be victim Robin Buckley says that it Jason Carver who was trying to kill her and not Eddie, the police are further put in their place by an anonymous tipper who did all the work they should have done instead of going after clearly innocent Eddie. So Eddie becomes a PI to find this anonymous tipper. Featuring Mystery Writer Steve, who will play into the later plot. ;)

You will see snippets of Steve as the story goes on, but it will be Eddie's story for about 2/3 of it. It is also set in canon time for reasons that will become clear as the story goes on.

~

Interviewer: I’m here with Steve Harrington who has put just put out his seven novel in the thrilling Joe Keery books, ‘The Hollow Promise’. How are you this morning?

Steve chuckled: I’m tired. I’m a writer, I spend all my nights writing and my days sleeping, so this is a little outside my normal waking hours.

Interviewer: Gosh I wish I could do that, but I chose to have a morning talk show instead. Won’t you tell the listeners about your latest book.”

Steve: It’s about a series of murders in a small town and our hero comes to town to investigate and finds a bigger mystery than he anticipated.

~

Eddie’s life went to hell the day Steve Harrington blew town. Not that he would find that out until years later. But then again people were more preoccupied with Robin Buckley swearing up and down that Jason Carver who had been trying to kill her and not Eddie than remember a kid being thrown out of his parents place for being gay so... yeah.

Well, okay, so his life had been hell a little bit before Steve blew town. But that wasn’t as interesting an opening as the day Steve blew town. So he still had a flare for the dramatic, sue him. After all it was that flare that made him become a private investigator in the first place.

When Chrissy Cunningham had been murdered just after Eddie dealt her Special K, that made him the prime suspect in her death.

Which, rude.

She had been dealing with some pretty fucked up shit. Like being queer in a small town levels of shit on top of her mom being constantly on about her weight and her boyfriend pressuring her wear a promise ring. In high school.

Then another student died. A boy on the basketball team, Patrick McKinney, who someone else claimed had bought steroids off Eddie. Which couldn’t have been true, not if it was performance enhancing drugs. He had offered to sell them to high schoolers when he first started dealing, but Rick assured him he already had someone for that.

Then another girl died. Someone Eddie hadn’t known. He knew of her. But she wasn’t even in any of his classes, in any of his senior years. She also didn’t do drugs. Hell, Molly Masters was a known Straight Edger. She wouldn’t have gone near Eddie unless she wanted to throw hands.

Which is why he was blamed for her death, actually. They insinuated that she had finally had enough of his drug dealing ways and had gone after him.

He even had an alibi for that one, not that it mattered. Playing in front of five random drunks and a stingy ass bartender wasn’t exactly as air tight as it could have been. Because as far as witnesses go, they were pretty shit.

Then Barb Holland died. And that was a kick in the teeth. He knew who she was but only in a tenuous ‘best friend of the girlfriend of the most popular boy in school’ kind of way. Eddie was starting to see the pattern, even if the cops didn’t.

Then the final one which ended in the death of Jason Carver, Chrissy’s boyfriend. Only Robin Buckley was still very much alive.

But for the those first three days, she was in a coma. So the police spun the narrative that Eddie had been trying to kill her when Jason had interrupted them; saving her life, but losing his in the process.

Until she woke up and blew the whole investigation out of the water.

“I’m telling you Jason Carver was trying to kill me,” she said for the tenth time to a motley crew of Hopper, Powell, and Callahan from her hospital bed.

“Now why would he go and do a thing like that for?” Powell huffed. “Jason was a good, upstanding young man. Captain of the basketball team. He loved Chrissy. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not for anything.”

Robin let out a long sigh of frustration and buried her head in her hands. She looked up at them, weighing her options before she finally snapped, “Because I’m a lesbian!”

They stared at her blankly.

“Apparently Chrissy was too and that’s why he killed her.”

“You telling me that Jason Carver, all American boy next door was a murderer killing queer kids?” Callahan huffed in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

“And I’m telling you it’s true,” Robin hissed. “Plus whoever saved my life and killed the rat bastard wasn’t Eddie Munson.” She crossed her arms over her chest and settled into the bed, grumpy.

Hopper pinched his nose. “Let’s say we follow this line of inquiry, why do you believe Eddie Munson wasn’t involved at all. You keep saying you never saw your rescuer’s face.”

She looked up at him like he was stupid. “Because the guy that took the bat to Jason’s head was wearing a short sleeve shirt.”

The cops all looked at each other in confusion.

Robin threw her arms up in the air. “No tattoos, assholes! Eddie very famously has bats on his...” she looked at her own arms for a second, “right forearm. And whoever this Jesus with a bat was, he didn’t have any tattoos on his arm.”

“Robin!” her mother admonished. Melissa Buckley was there to ensure that the police didn’t try and twist Robin’s words into saying something that wasn’t true.

Robin just shrugged, unrepentant. They were being assholes and someone should tell them to their faces.

“Well, shit!” Powell snapped, throwing his hands into the air in frustration. “If it wasn’t Eddie then who the fuck was it?”

Just then the door to Robin’s room burst open, startling all those inside. Officer Glenn Daniels came running up to Chief Hopper, a large envelope in his hands.

“Florence got this this morning,” Daniels said, panting for breath. “And we wanted to verify its authenticity before bringing it to you. So me and couple of the other officers looked into it.”

Hopper opened the envelope, his eyes growing wider the more and more he looked through it. “And how much it of is accurate?”

“All of it.”

“There is no way,” Hopper growled, slamming the envelope on Powell’s chest. “No evidence is that air tight. There must be some kind mistake or error in there somewhere.”

Powell took the envelope and looked down into it. His eyebrows shot up. “There are actual fucking writings by Carver in here. Where the hell did they find those?”

Daniels just shook his head. “Whoever found this shit was meticulous. There are no other fingerprints than Jason’s on anything. But there is a letter.”

Powell went searching through the envelope and pulled it out, handing it to the Chief, who read it, mumbling to himself.

“Well, as much as I would like to say the bastard is wrong,” Hopper said with a resigned sigh. “He’s not. Or she or whatever. They’re not wrong. The victims wouldn’t have gotten justice, not with them being queer. Jason would have been lauded a hero and paraded in the streets for taking out the trash.”

“‘To the police,” Powell read out loud. “I am sending you all the evidence you failed to collect when you were too busy trying to pin these murders on an innocent man. It didn’t take a lot to realize the true connection the victims had. I’m just sorry I was too late to save Molly Masters. She didn’t deserve to die in that horrible way.

“Once I figured out who it was, I knew that there would be no justice for these kids. Not when Jason Carver was who he was, and why he was killing his peers. So I quietly compiled all the evidence I could. His journals. His distinct lack of alibis for any of the murders. His emotional connection to the first victim, his girlfriend, Chrissy Cunningham.

“I’m just glad I was able to stop him from killing that final girl. But if she did die later, I hope Carver rots in the hell of his own making. No one deserves to die because of who they love.

“-Jason’s Executioner.”

“Well, that ain’t creepy as shit,” Callahan said sarcastically. “Well it’s not as though we could have used any of this evidence anyway.”

“And when is Eddie Munson being released?” Melissa huffed, pulling herself up to her nearly six feet of height.

Hopper blinked at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand the question, ma’am.”

“That boy is innocent!” Melissa said sternly. “And what? You’re going to just sweep this all under the rug and leave Jason Carver’s reputation intact?”

“That’s not what I said,” Hopper replied, low and dangerous. “And I don’t appreciate you putting words into my mouth.”

Melissa crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

“He is innocent of the murders, yes,” he said, “but he still sold an underaged girl ketamine. And last time I checked that was still very much against the law.”

“I don’t believe you actually have proof of that,” Melissa said with a winning smile.

“He confessed,” Powell said in confusion. “We have it on record of him confessing to selling the drugs.” He put his hands on his hips. “There’s no way he’s not going away for the drugs.”

“Under duress,” Melissa said smugly. “Which any lawyer worth his salt will get tossed out in a heartbeat. You have nothing on the boy and you know it.”

Robin grinned up at her. “Isn’t she so cool? And she’s my mom!”

“Stop calling him a boy!” Callahan hissed. “He’s twenty! He knew full well what he was doing and I’m not going to stand here and let you pretend otherwise.”

Melissa scoffed, eyeing him up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I’d call your dog to heel there, Chief, we wouldn’t want me to scream police intimidation, now would we?”

“Don’t make me arrest you, Mel,” Hopper growled. “Again.”

Melissa grinned up at the chief. They had been on very opposite sides of the Vietnam War. Him having been in the army and her having been in the protests against the War. Hawks and Doves.

“And just what would be the charge this time, Chief?” she asked with a wink.

Hopper squeezed his eyes closed and then opened them slowly. He let out a long exasperated sigh. “Eddie Munson will be released without charges by the end of today.”

But before his underlings could protest he held up his hands. “It’s either release him and sweep under the rug that some rank amateur or we don’t release him and Melissa here goes to the press about how we put away an innocent man and get the national media up in our business.”

They stared at him for a moment before they grumbling agreed. Hopper bid the Buckleys goodbye and then led his officers out the room.

So how did Eddie know all this? He talked to Hopper, Daniels and the Buckleys and while some details varied they pretty much confirmed that how it went down and how Eddie got out on a ‘technicality’ as the cops were calling it.

When he stepped out into the fresh air outside of the jail with Wayne waiting for him, he took a deep breath and let it go.

“I don’t know how you can stand living in this hell hole,” he groused as he hopped into Wayne’s truck.

“Can’t afford to leave,” Wayne huffed and started the truck. “If I could scrape up the money to get out of here, I would and I’d take you with me.”

Eddie gave his uncle’s shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe I’ll be able to get a job and get enough money for both of us out.”

“If wishes were horses,” Wayne said ruefully as he pulled out into traffic. “I’m just glad you were released without charges.”

“You and me both, old man,” Eddie huffed. “I was sure I was going to be Reading, Pennsylvania, Short Line and B&O railroaded.”

“Good thing Melissa Buckley was there when they interrogated her daughter,” Wayne growled. “Or you might still be sitting in that cell.”

“I hope you sent her flowers,” Eddie said. “She certainly deserves it.”

“Delilahs and some of my grandma’s shortbread,” Wayne confirmed. “I even offered to help out any handwork they may need in the future too. And if I were you I’d offer your way around an engine too.”

Eddie saluted. “Aye, Aye!”

Wayne snorted. “If the way she tells it is true, some rookie wannabe detective is the one that provided the most damning evidence against that Carver kid.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Eddie said with a snort. “These backwater cops wouldn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

“Still it makes you wonder who it was...” Wayne said softly as they turned into the trailer park.

“It certainly does that,” Eddie agreed. “It certainly does that.”

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

I am ridiculously pleased with the railroad joke. It still makes me smile every time.

Tag List: TEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[sapphiresaphics]

The infantilization of Viktor and Jayce while simultaneously demonizing Cailtyn and Vi is everything you need to know about how fandom treats gay characters.

All 4 characters have done absolutely atrocious things. Jayne unleashed Hextech on the population. He murdered a child while being a vigilante. His actions as counselor resulted in a whole squadron of Enforcers to lose their lives. His refusal to listen to Viktor results (at least in alternate timelines) with the destruction of all life on earth.

Viktor abused Hextech and Shimmer. His tampering with the Arcane killed Skye. His ability to manipulate the core resulted in him being turned part machine where he slowly lost his humanity. He “saves” people by turning them into hive mind automatons. And his ultimate goal (which succeeds in alternate timelines) is to subjugate the world and remove free will from all of humanity.

Vi punches Powder turning her into Jinx. Jinx who then goes on to kill countless other people as a result of VI’s actions. She sided with Jayce and attacks Zaun, resulting in the death of a child. She sided with Caitlyn and did targeted attacks on Zaun trying to rid the undercity of the chem barons but resulted in unintentionally gassing citizens. As a direct result of her inactions, Piltover gets gassed by Jinx and hundreds of innocent people get hurt. She spends the next few months beating up people in pit fighting tournaments.

Caitlyn tries to work for both Piltover and Zaun, but because of her disregarding of orders and investigations she gets a whole team of Enforcers killed. She blames herself for her mother dying and not taking the shot that would’ve saved the counsel from being destroyed by Jinx. She eventually comes up with a task force idea to infiltrate Zaun using their own air against them and taking down the Chem Barons as she hunts for Jinx. Failure to do so results in her declaring martial law and oppressing Zaun further, while being manipulated by the authoritarian worshiping Ambessa.

But you’d NEVER KNOW ANY OF THAT if you just follow what the fandom presents in their art and commentary. According to fans, Jayce and Viktor are SO IN LOVE and clearly have kinky sex in the ethereal plane and never did anything wrong ever. According to fans, Caitlyn is literally hitler, the worst character in the world, and she colonized and abuses Vi routinely, preying on VI’s ignorance and poverty to get her way.

Fuck. Each. And. Every. One. Of. You.

The bottom line is that ALL the characters are flawed. But because a lot of the fandom is female, and fandom women love gay men, Jayce and Viktor get treated as gay icons of love while Caitlyn and Vi are treated like the oppressor X oppressed devil incarnates.

Doesn’t matter that Viktor is ALSO from Zaun, so being in love with Jayce would technically make them oppressor x oppressed too… but that’s okay because at least there it gives you kinky sex you can draw that totally isn’t in any way problematic at all!

No, you guys just hate lesbians and sapphic characters. Whatever reasons you use to justify it, that’s the end result.