#Verses: Evidence Board

[chibitantei]

Emperor | v: Let’s Get To The Top

A swap AU where Naoto belongs to a yakuza family instead of just being a silly delinquent.

Occupation: Not a yakuza

Weapon: Whatever she can get her hands on (blunt weapons, usually)

Shadow: ???

Persona: Same as canon until further notice, but don’t bet on it.

The Shiroganes were a branch of a modest yakuza family, their territory set in Tokyo, the capital of Japan. Although small in numbers, they were not ones to be underestimated. Whatever dirty work needed to be done, they carried it out with ease. Compared to many ruthless families, they were one of the few with a moral code, such as avoiding the involvement of civilians or preying on them, but they would never call themselves heroes or anything idealistic.

Unfortunately, a modest yakuza family cannot stand against one with greater power and allies. As such the Shiroganes and the family were wiped out or assimilated into their ranks.

Or so people believed.

During those turbulent years, the main family could see that they were powerless against the growing allegiance. The branches were allowed to decide what they wanted to do, whether to leave or join this alliance. The Shiroganes were one of many who decided to leave the business and adjust to civilian life.

There were a number of incidents that occurred, including bloodshed and casualties and a dent into the rival alliance, but that’s a story for another time.

The Shiroganes moved to Inaba, with the fourth head’s young daughter in tow.

How a man from a yakuza family and a junior police inspector of a yakuza ‘hunting’ unit wound up married is a story for another time.

They opened a private investigation agency and Naoto took interest in their work. She was well aware of the history her family had, but it didn’t deter her growing interest.

Knowing her family’s history, she was in shock that a mere car accident was what ended her parents’ life. Not a plan by that rival family, just an unfortunate accident. Those who knew the Shiroganes attended the funeral, but Inaba talked and found out.

Naoto was never popular and was quiet, her classmates mocked her aspirations to become a detective, but it was a loneliness she could tolerate. Now everyone watched her warily, as if she were a wild animal and would snap. Alone, but seen as a criminal, a spotlight that followed her every move.

And so, Naoto supposed she would give everyone what they expected.

Things of Note

Here is my disclaimer that I don’t claim to be portraying the yakuza accurately, and this verse does not have any relation to a certain long running video game series.

I’ll add more when it comes up. You know the drill by now.

[exghul]

    YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! i wrote about that time heathcliff came back with the band, and pom had an emotion! if she finds out it's in there, she'll murder me in my sleep!

                                                                                      ~ Mia "Maps" Mizoguchi. ⓒ

[reiderwriter]

🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)

Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?

Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.

A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 

“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 

“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 

“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.

“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”

“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 

“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but…” 

“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 

“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”

The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 

“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”

The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you… well, you were great at directing him. 

“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”

“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.

“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 

“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.

Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 

Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 

“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 

“It seems like you had experience.”

“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No…experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.

You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 

“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 

“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”

You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 

But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 

“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 

“I… I thought we could..”

You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 

“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.

“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 

“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 

“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”

“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 

“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 

"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."

You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 

“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 

As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.

You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 

“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”

“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 

You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 

You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 

You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.

“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 

Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 

They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 

You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 

With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“How does it feel?” 

“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.

You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 

“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 

“I want you to burn me.” 

His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 

You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  

His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 

“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 

Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 

“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 

It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 

You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 

Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.

“Good job… Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 

He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.

“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 

You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 

He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 

Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 

“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 

“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 

He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 

“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 

[muntitled]

𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 | 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗳𝘄𝗯, 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿-𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗠𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 (+𝟭𝟴) 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜, 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗘𝘅𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗦𝘂𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗗𝗼𝗺!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻, 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗲

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙂 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚

For the longest time, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman. Thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passions and projects and passion projects, respectively -Changbin being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work.

No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio, nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filled with slightly manic notes and lyrics.

No one truly understood that until him.

"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watched Changbin gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.

"You're abandoning me?" You screech, fumbling to take off your headphones. "We haven't even perfected the chorus yet, and you're abandoning me?"

Changbin's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone, leaving you to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"

You roll your eyes, "Binnie, food is for the weak. We can do this."

"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away the view of his muscles and evidently, your will to work.

Changbin finally spared you a tired look as he said, "But maybe he can. You psychos can starve yourselves together."

It is only then that you noticed a figure haunting the open doorway. Changbin had conjured a brand new producer with wayward black curls with a single tap on his iPhone screen. The man lifts his hand in a passive greeting.

"Hiya," He had said, before taking Changbin's spot on the sonic board. "I'm Chan."

You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Changbin's colleague. Bang Christopher Chan, would quickly become not only your disgustingly talented and driven producer but also a friends with added benefits. Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with your thoughts bleeding into unfamiliar and frankly perplexing thoughts of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...

You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music, could you?

"What would really be sexy is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum." You're immediately brought back to the present. "So if you said 'cash' but with like a higher pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly correct yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nod, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'sexy'. Hearing anything suggestive falling from Chan's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard, left you unable to focus.

"Honey?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me?" He asks in a tone so sickeningly innocent it almost makes you feel guilty... until his next string of words.

"If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you. It would be devastingly easy given that the two of you were the only two left in the studio. Zero witnesses.

"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...

"Sorry, sorry!" Said Chan, "Didn't know we were opting for plebian speak this evening," He says with a chuckle before waving his hand, "Continue."

But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Chan had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.

As you rattle through the lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Chan maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.

The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim. This 'mood' that Chan had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.

Soon, the track is being replaced by Chan's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.

"Sorry to cut you off, baby girl," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently cross your legs in front of you, "I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." For a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue, but he never does. Chan sits silently, staring at you with yet another earth-shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Chan would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't purposely being incredibly difficult this evening. Demanding artists were his specialty, but you presented an entirely new set of challenges.

"I said take of note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air. His voice is strained, as if he's withholding himself from scolding you too visciously. In fear of not only your reaction but his in return.

"Christopher." You drawl incredulously, "You seriously want me to actually write this down?"

He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me, "Please."

You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes before sitting down on the single metal stool kept in the booth. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."

"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Chan continues.

"Alright. I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.

"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Chan had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.

"Christopher," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"

He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Thots and sluts deserve a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as Christopher continues. By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him, why you're being particularly difficult, why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.

"So a dry signal is a pure unprocessed sound, like a vocal recorded as is, and a wet signal is a sound with cool effects on it like we did for 'Drive'."

You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Chan completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his black curls brushing along his eyes.

"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."

Your shoulders once again sag, and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Christopher's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiny of his gaze.

"Fuck, I can't work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his wayward curls, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."

"You know what I need..."

He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Chan to stare worriedly at the door, as if terrified that Changbin might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.

"I've been rapping about dicks and vaginas the entire time, Chan, you can't tell me you're not a little turned on yourself at this point." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.

"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Chan. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with excitement and nervousness and his inmate, need to be dominant... it concoted a dizzying amalgamation.

"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks once you appear by in front of his seat, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs.

You just do.

It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.

"And if I check, am I gonna find you wet?" Chan is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.

You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.

"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."

"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Chan's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.

"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input in fact, you just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.

Christopher sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take off your panties for me..." You more than speedily oblige as you hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Chan both watch each other with steel gazes.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," His resolve melts when his eyes skim down to the sight of your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.

"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.

"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, he remains with his face hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much, and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.

"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "My baby." His hands almost immediately delve underneath your skirts slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you and says, "Come on, baby... Say it for me, you know you want to."

His voice is dripping with sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Chan's grip on your hip is concrete.

"Oh God daddy- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your hand against Chan's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.

"I just wanna take care or my little angel don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot muster to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.

"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Chan finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me."

Chan's cap is long gone, strewn on the floor somewhere with your fingers burried in his curls. You harnass your little bit of power to crane his head up at you, and he lets you- using this moment to speak directly into your soul. "You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know Daddy loves taking care of his baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.

"Please daddy-"

"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the loss of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have cum everywhere.

"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board though, baby girl." Chan finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he dips his head down to you and places a peck on your lips. "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words have you whimpering incoherently as Chan crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Chan raises your dress lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...

"Chris can we-"

"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Chan lightly push you further over the desk. "Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Chan is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants until he eases into you without a second thought.

"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every inch of him.

"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside your core. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Chan fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.

"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough, I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."

"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so fucking good. Only you can- Only you can make me feel like this," Your panting and your tits are bouncing as Chan begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint. He's attacking that inherent need that had been blossoming since the start of your session, completely wrecking you I'm search of the ultimate satisfaction. Chan's hands are as restless as his hips and his words flow like an angry river. You feel so tight around him. His perfect little girl.

Those words alone, playing in his head like a broken record have his cock twitching inside of you.

"No one slese can make you feel this good." His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"

"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-" it is outrageously difficult to form a coherent sentence but Chan does not seem to mind. In fact, it appears as though he prefers it when you're a blundering mess. It affirms that he fucks you so good your smart little brain is simply unable to think about anything beyond the bounds of pleasure.

"Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaism behind you with eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open. "Where?" he asks in a solid yet wavering voice. You feel your own orgasm on simmering inside of you and youre utterly embarrassed to find that you might cum from being pounded by his cock alone with little to no stimulation against your clit. "Inside me, Daddy"

"Oh-god, oh fuck," Your words, the way you say it, your use of the honorific- it's makes him cum without him even noticing it.

Being so crudely filled up by him jump starts your own orgasm and it blazes through you like a million sun's burning in your core all at once. His cum completely fills your insides, too the point that it begins to feel too full. Droplets of pearly white cum seep out of your vagina and Christopher is absolutely enamored. "Jesus fucking Christ." He whispers, still watching his cum seep out if you.

"Language, Chris." You jest before craning your head back to look at his unimpressed visage and unruly curls.

"Back to work, baby girl." He taps lightly at your bum before pulling your skirt down.

"Chan..." you turn to watch him pull his cap over hus head once more before wiping his hands with wet wipes.

"Hm?" He says.

"My underwear." You say, scanning the studio for any traces of the pink material but coming up empty.

"Get back in the booth." Is all he says.

I'm way too subby for this

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (IX)

Chapter 9 : 'I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river- where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues'

Hi! Here is another chapter! Saoirse is back, and our babies are making some evil plans…

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 1798

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Lilies

I have been thinking about living like the lilies that blow in the fields.

They rise and fall in the edge of the wind, and have no shelter from the tongues of the cattle,

and have no closets or cupboards, and have no legs. Still I would like to be as wonderful

as the old idea. But if I were a lily I think I would wait all day for the green face

of the hummingbird to touch me. What I mean is, could I forget myself

even in those feathery fields? When Van Gogh preached to the poor of coarse he wanted to save someone--

most of all himself. He wasn't a lily, and wandering through the bright fields only gave him more ideas

it would take his life to solve. I think I will always be lonely in this world, where the cattle graze like a black and white river--

where the vanishing lilies melt, without protest, on their tongues-- where the hummingbird, whenever there is a fuss, just rises and floats away.

Mary Oliver

So, this was Pr. Hozier- Byrne…

H-B, or Hozier like everyone on campus seemed keen to call him. Saoirse understood the hype around the man though.

His voice was soft and lulling, his explanations clear, his love for his work evident. He seemed nice, answered all the questions, had something a little shy about him that seemed to quieten when he was teaching. He exuded confidence then, on the contrary, and despite the softness in his tone, it was impossible not to listen to him babbling away about Yeats. The fact that he was handsome was also a strong argument in his favour, Saoirse couldn’t deny it. Ridiculously tall, curls falling over his shoulders, trimmed beard and glasses over green eyes… She sighed as she stared at him, sporting a grey tweed suit, turning to write something over on the board. And that deep voice… damn…

She shook herself, focused on the lecture again, took note of the date her teacher was writing on the white board. The first class was an introduction to Yeats’ life and work, the study of his texts would start next week. For now, Saoirse was carefully writing down dates and historical events and the name of the woman he would spend most of his life pinning over. And she wondered if Hozier was pinning over a woman too, if he was married, if he longed for love, if that was why he seemed to love poetry so much, because he saw his own longing in other people’s words…

She shook herself again, wrote down something about Lady Gregory and the Abbey Theatre. She was projecting her own feelings over that tall stranger, she reckoned. A dangerous activity, if there ever had been one.

Apparently, more students had chosen the class about science-fiction, but Saoirse had definitely no regrets. If the topic seemed more complicated, her teacher was determined to pass on his love for poetry. She was grateful to Gabi for convincing her to choose this class, was already happy to have chosen his lesson about modernism for the second half of the year.

Indeed, she could see that Gabi had done well in recruiting for this class. Most of the students Saoirse had seen with Gabi during orientation week were now listening to H-B explaining the use of theatre to create a common Irish identity that worked hand in hand with the growing anger that would lead to revolution. And indeed, Sean and Donald were there too. If Donald had settled a couple of rows behind her, Sean was sitting next to her, actually. He had recognised her as soon as he had entered the room, had headed straight towards her and asked if he could sit next to her. And Saoirse was happy to have someone she knew in this class too, even if they had spoken but a few hours during orientation week. She hoped they could become friends, she felt a little lonely in this new adult world.

 The lecture went on and was over too soon, a feeling Saoirse had not been expecting for any of her lectures. As she packed up her things, she noticed that Gabi was at the door, eyeing the students inside, and she gave Saoirse a wave when their gazes met. Sean and Saoirse hurried out of the room.

“Hey! How are my wee students doing?” Gabi asked with a grin.

“Doing okay, so far!” Saoirse answered with a smile. “Didn’t even get lost this morning!”

“What an achievement!” Gabi laughed good-heartedly. “Saw that you were having a class with H-B this morning, my next lecture starts in fifteen minutes, just down the hall. Thought I’d come see you all, check on you.”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Sean nodded with a smile.

Donald joined them as well, and they chatted happily for a couple of minutes.

“There’s a party planned at the end of the week, to celebrate the beginning of the year. You should come!”

“Huh… sure! Sounds good.”

If Saoirse was feeling a little shy, Donald was already asking questions about the drinks and the music.

Gabi was about to answer him when she was distracted by someone walking behind Saoirse and Sean, and she immediately grinned.

“Good morning, professor!”

The younger students turned around and politely smiled at their teacher, while he beamed at Gabi.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t our favourite troublemaker…” he teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “How are you doing, Gabi? How was your summer?”

“It was good! Busy, lots of things to plan to make sure I can turn all our new recruits into proper menaces!”

Andrew laughed, shaking his head playfully.

“Oh, I bet you have tons of ideas for that… but don’t scare our students away too soon, alright?”

He quickly checked his watch.

“Gotta run, but it was nice seeing you. Will I see you on Thursday then?”

“You know me… how could I say no to a class about protest poetry?”

Andrew’s smile brightened even more.

“Grand. I’m glad to have you as a student again this year.”

He excused himself then, bidding all four students a nice day, and they stared as he walked away, his long legs devouring the distance between the classroom and the exit of the building in mere seconds.

“He’s so nice!” Saoirse sighed. “Thanks for recommending this class to us.”

“He is. And Christ… he’s a sight for sore eyes.”

They all laughed at that, and went on to chat for a while longer, until Gabi had to head to her own class.

Saoirse could feel it, it would be a good year.

Andrew hurried back to your office, knowing that you were waiting for him. And indeed, when he arrived, you had already taken your sandwich out of your bag and were focused on your computer screen.

You greeted him with a smile when he quickly stepped into the room.

“Sorry, ran into a student I know well. Okay… what are our options?”

Andrew took off his vest, took out of his bag his own sandwich and his water bottle, before pushing his chair next to yours so he could look at your screen as well.

Frank was asking for advices about flower arrangements, for the wedding but also for a party they wanted to organise a few weeks before the wedding, some kind of huge get-together with family and friends to celebrate their engagement. Sam and Frank seemed to treat the event as some kind of rehearsal for their big day, and wanted to decorate the place in a similar way they would use for the ceremony.

A perfect occasion to raise chaos and mayhem…

“Frank has already narrowed down our choices… meaning that he took out anything with carnations or calla lilies, he doesn’t like those. I’ve tried to probe to know Sam’s taste, but he seems clueless.”

“Are we surprised by that?” Andrew mumbled under his breath, something bitter in his tone. “Sam’s favourite flowers are white lilies, and she hates pink and yellow roses.”

“Okay, so… can we find any pink and yellow roses in those…”

Andrew chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“You’re kind of terrifying, Machiavelli…”

“One of my favourite books is about getting stuck in hell and watching people being tortured,” you reminded him, making Andrew laugh and glimpse over at the picture you had hung on the wall.

“Right… my bad. I shouldn’t underestimate your evil nature, clearly.”

“Unless you’re ready to face the consequences…” you added with false threat in your voice, while you were clearly struggling to hold back your laughter.

“Don’t turn me into anything… unnatural.”

You froze, turned to him.

“Was that a Lord of the Rings reference?” you asked with utter surprise evident on your features.

“Obviously,” Andrew smiled, something cheeky and cute at the same time, clearly pleased with himself.

“God… I love the Lord of the Rings!”

“Who doesn’t?!”

“Frank.”

Andrew huffed, but said nothing. He thought the words all the same… what a tasteless gobshite…

“Why am I not surprised?” was his answer instead, and you chuckled at his words.

“Yeah… he does have a few red flags,” you conceded.

“Hmm… but the fact that we’re plotting together against our exes is kind of a red flag, isn’t it? A scarlet one if I’ve ever seen one…”

“Is it worse than not liking the Lord of the Rings?”

Andrew couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his mouth.

“Nah, we’re good,” he joked, making you laugh.

And he liked the sound. Almost three weeks had passed since Sam and Frank had announced their engagement and Andrew and you were spending more and more time together. You had planned some things to get to talk to your exes, or just as you were doing today, to mess up with their wedding. Which meant seeing you outside the university, eating his lunch with you, talking over the phone sometimes…

And Andrew liked it. He liked that your dynamic was back on a friendly rhythm instead of something merely professional. You were nice, and hilarious, and so fucking smart. He hoped you would remain friends after all this. He hoped you would become good friends, with a bit of time.

“Oh, this one is so ugly…” you giggled at the picture on your screen, something pink and over the top, with a lot of roses…

“Oh, yeah… that’s the one. Send him this one.”

“Frank asked me for a favour by the way… he wanted me to go fishing for information about Sam’s tastes in flowers.”

“You mean… asking me about it?”

You nodded, and Andrew let out a wry laugh.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I wouldn’t have the opportunity to ask you today as our classes would keep us busy. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to play the perfect boyfriend and come to the rescue, and offer to use her favourite flowers.”

“You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course!”

You both laughed, eating your sandwiches. And then the conversation drifted away from Sam and Frank, settled on your classes, on work, on the movie he had watched on Sunday, on the walk you had taken with Siobhán and how much you would miss her when she would be gone.

And Andrew still felt a hole in his chest, the weight of something hollow, of a piece missing, because of Samantha. But when he was with you, the grief didn’t seem so heavy, the pain so aching. The emptiness in his heart seemed a little less empty when you were around. God knew he missed Samantha, that he wanted her back. But at least, you made him feel human again. He reckoned you were the only one to make him properly laugh these days.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Arranged! Verse, when Bruce (or Alfred, either works) find out how abusive her parents are, or sum along those lines?

"You're lucky you're beautiful because if you weren't there's not much else you're good for."

"I know father, I'm sorr-"

"Don't interrupt me, goddamn it!"

The sound of a fist hitting wood makes Bruce tense where he's waiting- ostensibly to talk details. And he isn't sure what occasioned this little meeting with your father but it's disgusting.

The rest of the conversation is drowned out by a conveniently timed leaf blower. Leaving Bruce to cool his heels in the sitting room off of your father's study. Anyone looking would think you'd been doted on. Positively spoiled. Horses, tutors, expensive boarding schools... the works. Photos of you smiling for the camera. Your parents looking suitably smug... It didn't jive with what he just heard and it rankled.

It wasn't until you walked out the doors, back resolutely straight, startled for a second at seeing him there that he takes a moment to look at you.

It seems he'd only hit the desk. Or perhaps a shelf. Perhaps he'd learned to keep his hands to himself. Or your mother was the one who got physical- not as adept at intimidating with words so she resorted to other means.

Last night you'd been crying. Worried sick about today. You'd told Batman about being summoned. Unloaded months of hoarded anxieties. Things you were too afraid to even put in a diary for fear the little bit of freedom you did have would be stripped away if you complained.

"Alfred will see you home," he said simply. "I'll take your car back"

"I- I wanted to-"

"Alfred will see you home," he repeated, "Or anywhere else you would like to go."

"I-"

"Don't argue," your father snapped. "Do as your told."

And as you retrieve your keys from your purse and hand them over, careful not to touch him, Bruce tries not to notice how hard your hands are trembling. Whatever had been said to you had evidently warranted the worry from last night. But he'd have to wait to find out what was said. Tonight Bruce Wayne had to see and be seen. But tomorrow was another story.

[sophietv]

It's not about kaylor but I really want to know about the song all too well. Who is it about? I think Jake G was PR. And the lyrics doesn't fit the Taymily narrative either. This song and the relationship seems very important to her. It hurt her badly. I am asking you because you always make very informative and reliable post that makes sense and closest to the truth.

Also who is Dear John about? Is it really John Mayer? Her only straight relationship I believe in is Joe Jonas.

Hi!

Thank you sooo much for saying that! It means a lot. I really can't claim that my theories are always 1000% right, but I do make a lot of research before posting, and try to cross check everything.

2. I must admit that when you asked the question, I did not have real solid theories or evidence to give you. I was even bending toward telling you that the song might be about Lizz since the timestamp of the song on Spotiy is 5:27 = Lizz birthday.

3. Considering that Taylor wrote this during Speak Now Era and that Lizz was present during that Era, well it doesn't fit the narrative of the song being about a relationship that has ended some time ago. And also, it would have been really weird to write this song during rehearsal where Lizz was present, if it was about her...

But thanks to you! I did a lot of research to try and find evidences (I read all the timelines but I'm not that well verse in what came before Kaylor and Swiftgron).

I asked what my groupchat thought about this.

Re-read the Taymily Masterpost (X)

Read and watched Taymily interviews

And now! I can say with more confidence, that I'm pretty sure this song is about Emily Poe, her fiddle player that worked with her from 2006-2008.

Now. Here's the evidences:

First. As pointed out by my group chat, the song does not seem to fit Tayliz dynamic. It seems to be talking about a complicated relationship with someone older.

As by the lyrics "you said if we were closer in age, maybe it would have been fine"

So first thing I did is look back as to when it was written.

Here's a piece of interview I found:

Thanks to this post: (X)

We know that she wrote it during her reheasal in 2011.

Because here's when David Cook started working with her:

And here's the date of his first show in the Phillipines:

February 2011....

Then, I did a little digging on what was going on with Emily at the time:

And oh does it get interesting!!

Here's an Emily's interview I found (X)

And here's what she was doign in February 2011!!! (I'm excited of the evidence I've found, does it show lol) :

"Two thousand eleven was a big year for me. I became engaged in February, graduated law school in May, took the bar in July, and Eli and I were married in November.”

What did Taylor said?: "I was feeling terrible about what was going on in my personal life"

What if she just learned about Emily's engagement???

And to make it even more interesting. Here's a journal entry with the first lyrics of All Too Well:

Confirming that it was written in 2011.

This is inchteresting.

But it gets better!

Because, before last year, Emily's Pinterest was public. And on her wedding board, she did save a picture with a red scarf....

It's not Emily, it's just a picture that she had saved in her Pinterest. Thanks to Kate for giving me this!

But what if the red scarf was really just to tie the song to Jake???

Here's another interesting thing I've found in the Taymily timeline:

This letter is from the video she made to Emily when she left, with everyone having "I love you Emily" signs.

It says:

“Emily– I feel as if our relationship has been taken to the next level over the past few months and with much contemplation I decided I would bestow upon you one of my most prized possession: my flamingo bandana. This is a 3rd generation family heirloom and i suggest you frame it. I think it will look perfect in your apartment with the cat pillows. Enjoy”

Inchteresting....is the red scarf a bandana??

Also. We know that All Too Well was really significant for Taylor and that for a long time, she was not able to sing it without crying...

So it's about a relationship that had a big impact on her life.

Very recently. Like in June, Taylor performed the song Breathe as a surprise song and very clearly cried during that performance.

The next day, we learned that the day before the show, Emily did this post on Facebook:

Breathe was heavily rumored to be about Emily back when Fearless came out. But Colbie confirmed it with Fealess Taylor's Version in an interview when she said that it was about something that was going on with one of Taylor's band membre.

So yeah... this would make way more sense being about Emily and having Taylor be emotional singing it for a long time.

Than the song being about a relationship that lasted 3 months.

Of course I can't know for sure for all her relationships...

But most of them I believe was PR. Like the one she had with Jake.

Thanks for the question! It was really interesting doing all those research!

ADDITION!! : It just hit me but! The line "And you call me up again just to break me like a promise"

Fits perfectly with Emily calling her to tell her about the engagement! omg...

SECOND ADDITION: This morning when I woke up, I thought about two things that points to Emily!

1. Taylor turned 21 in 2010, 2 months before writing All Too Well.

"And you call me later and say sorry I didn't make it and I say I'm sorry too" from The Moment I Knew

to two months later:

"And you called me up again just to break me like a promise"

2. The night Taylor sang Breathe and looked devastated after Emily's Facebook post. She also sang All Too Well looking REALLY MAD.

People have all noted it.

Look: (X)

This solidifies even more that All Too Well is about Emily for me...

[slickbackdani]

Since Macklemore is officially Back-lemore™️, I want to take the time, before Pride Month draws to a close, to deliver a heartfelt "go fuck yourself" to everyone who called him homophobic years ago.

For those not in the know: 11 years ago, Macklemore released "Same Love", a song in which he voiced his his support of LGBT equality and opposition to the oppression and discrimination we face. It was a very moving, powerful, heartfelt ballad that was one of the early markers that the social justice movement was here to stay…

Or at least, that's what I would say if that same social justice movement didn't gang up on Macklemore and declare him the enemy, smearing him as a homophobe because… he talks about gay rights issues despite not being gay himself.

I've heard all the arguments, and they're all bullshit.

"He talks at length about not being gay, so he's ashamed of associating with us!"

First of all, his explanation of his sexuality is limited to the first half of the first verse. The entire rest of the song is dedicated to the message "homophobia is wrong and LGBT people deserve equal rights." Second, his explanation of his sexuality isn't just some "no homo" clarification, but an illustration of how far-reaching homophobic stereotypes are in our society and how they can give children the wrong idea.

"He used the F-slur!"

Take a look at the context he was using it in, smart one.

Our culture founded from oppression, yet we don't have acceptance for 'em

Call each other f——ts behind the keys of a message board

A word rooted in hate, yet our genre still ignores it

He wasn't calling anyone the F-slur or saying anyone should be called that. He was using it as an example of homophobic language that should never be used because it is bigoted and cruel. DEPICTION IS NOT ENDORSEMENT!

"He's paternalistically trying to speak for a group he doesn't belong to!"

No. No. No the fuck he isn't. If you listen to the actual lyrics, he's just making the basic statement that LGBT people deserve equal rights and that bigotry against us is wrong. Aside from the tiny minority of LGBT conservatives who try to move up in the world by sucking up to their oppressors and throwing their fellow queers under the bus, I can't imagine how the LGBT community as a whole would have any reason to object to any of that! He's not speaking for us; he's standing with us. The only ones trying to "speak for us" is you, doing this whole "I'm offended for you" schtick and thinking you know better than we do who our enemies are.

"He's from the privileged majority, he's never been oppressed before, so he can't really know what it's like and therefore doesn't really care!"

I can't believe I have to say this, but being privileged doesn't automatically make someone an evil bigoted monster who is incapable of basic human empathy or compassion. Since most of the people who slimed Macklemore were themselves straight people claiming to support LGBT rights — looking at you, Cody Johnston — THEY SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT!

I'm genuinely baffled at the cognitive dissonance on display here. "Any straight person claiming to support LGBT Rights is a liar," says a group of straight people who claim to support LGBT rights. Are you honestly expecting me to believe that every single one of you are the exceptions to this rule you're claiming is otherwise immutable? From this, I'm forced to draw one of two conclusions:

You're Projecting. You're accusing Macklemore of not really caring about us and only using us for clout because you don't really care about us and are only using us for clout. I don't want to believe this is true, but look. If you're a straight person, and you see another straight person claiming to support LGBT rights, and your immediate reaction is to call them a liar, and you specifically use their straightness as evidence that they're lying… you're telling on yourself.

You're Fishing for Compliments. You think that, if you publicly flagellate yourself enough with this "all straight people are automatically evil" bullshit, the God Emperor of Gayness will descend from on high to officially declare you "one of the good ones" and ease your straight guilt.

I'll admit the second option isn't nearly as bad as the first, but it's still shitty because — to borrow some words from the Rap Critic — you're essentially clogging up an important conversation about our rights and freedoms just to beg us to confirm that you're not bad people. If you really cared about us, you wouldn't be making it about you in the first place!

And I'm sure there are some gays who were also ganging up on Macklemore and declaring him an oppressor and a bigot just like everyone else, and I have a message for them, too.

Darling. Bro. Baby gays. Listen.

The purpose of Pride isn't to tell all straight people everywhere to fuck off and die. It's to specifically fight back against the bigots and oppressors who have held positions of authority in our society since time immemorial, to undermine their power and create a free, equal society for everyone. I can't remember who first said this, but the struggle of social justice isn't "minorities vs non-minorities", but "minorities and non-minorities vs the system."

Here we had a straight person outspokenly demonstrating how emphatically he supports our fight for freedom and wholeheartedly agrees with us that oppressing us is wrong… so why the fuck were you treating him, personally, as the enemy?

You'd do well to remember the words of George Santayana: "Fanaticism consists in redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim."

[witchofthesouls]

Someone please give D.C.!AU Soundwave a medal and a drink for dealing with the shenanigans. Also have to wrangle Tarn's general Tarn-ness.

First he had to deal with the donar clause was activated by Tarn and Tarn imprinted?! Wait he's seeker-kin and a has been a tank for ages." The telepath knows exactly why stascream was torn between lsughter and tears. Which means he has to be constantly be on guard that Tarn might try to trine with Lord Megatron.

Then he had to do with the twice accidentally very married couple being well married and also expecting more bitties. He knows in his spark his cassettes are to blame somehow regardless of the lack of evidence.

Then the chaos on board the nemasis caused by Tarn bringing back a pregnant conjux and a flock of bitties. Tarn being hyper protective made everything super hazardous just existing on the same ship. At least they gained two hyper compatatent medics. Even if Tarn's sexual tension was so high Soundwave had to take active measures to prevent three quarters of the ship from entering heats or ruts.

Then the Overlord Incident(s) culminating in premature newsparks, one very dead Overlord, an Soundwave discovering This nurse isn't some agent assassin, Camians, especially medical professionals, are just like that. Also that Camus has hazards that are insane and the planet is best avoided.

Speaking of which he had to browbeat Megatron into encouraging Tarn and the Nurse to call the Nurse's Mentor/Foster-sire so he could meet the bitties because Soundwave will be damned if he ends up gunning for the cause because of a misunderstanding. Also perhaps they can arange for him to teach medical techniques.

To top it all off inspite of the fact Tarn's dangerous broken coding and the couple are literally spark resonants powerful enough to smash through two layers of outlier grade baffels, Megatron wants the nurse to consider other potential sires or code doners since they are capable of kindling.

And all of this mess was basically caused because Tarn was a touch starved socially isolated virgin who wrote the damn doner clause with such specificity. Soundwave and Starscream have already pushed through amendments that allow the carrier to have their choice of potential doners amoung the unit responsible for the sire's demise.

The Donor Clause Au is such a mess. It has different versions at this point, depending on the take like 'What if Tarn had to be present at officer meetings," "What if Megatron was a High Priest of Megatronus Prime," and the current thought of "What if sparklings were ridiculously rare on Cybertron because Reasons."

In the verse where sparklings are super rare as in one newspark per full carriage (not the back-to-back-to-back clutches of three), Soundwave gets all the spiked tea he wants, his own spike milked by hand as he's one of the few mechs that 1) you actually like outside of the Peaceful Tyranny and 2) Tarn pre-approved in a very detail breakdown of very short over acceptable mechs in case your legal spouse isn't around, and he gets chirpy sparklings crawling into his lap.

Purring and happy with simple, one-tracked minds and emotions that don't give Soundwave migraines or induce distaste. He actually indulges the little ones as they paint his legs or tug on his plates or, in the case of the sparkling with a mess of a mouth full of sharp teeth, Soundwave utilizes his more heavily protected data-cables for the bitty to chew on.

Soundwave has never thought of parenthood as tapedecks can't carry sparklets, and finding a mech with a viable gestational chamber is akin to becoming a long-standing reigning Champion of Kaon, but...

Soundwave also nips those family yearnings because then he would need to deal with Tarn as a potential code-sharer along with your own idiosyncrasies as a Camien. Nor does he want to constantly deal with Ravage's and Ratbat's complaints of Tarn's super-charged, lust-addled repression. While the leader of the Justice Division may have the iron control to keep his highly charged field to his plating, any mech with a finely tuned sense of smell, like the majority of beastformers, would sneeze at Tarn's presence.

(If Tourniquet is around, the Hub would be fielding an immense influx of comms ranging from the Camien Healer's approval to take Decepticon personnel onto hazardous planetoids for a 'complete training experience,' Hook's bombardment of pulling the colonists into his division, and a flood of troops' terrified complaints/hopeful messages thanks as the Healer would literally hunt and drag any mech into his care, kicking and screaming with an unholy sense of cheer.)

The Cassettes, despite their denial, do get jealous the sheer amount of racket all six bitties make when the Justice Division troops back. No amount of patty cake, violent nursery rhymes, and edible paint will match the warmth and deep rumble of Tarn's frame or the Pet's yankable mane.

The bitties are defiantly chirping at their imprisoned state, being trapped by hard-light in mess hall.

As everyone goes through the usual song-and-dance because the mechs want to pick up a sparkling, but you're already at gate as a grim, no nonsense warden because the Justice Division are filthy from gore, dust, and dirt. You're on a third carriage and have no wants to deal with a sick clutch on top of it because the sparklings would try to lick it off a random, filthy armor piece.

It's usually easier to shoo Tesarus and Helex into Nickel's awaiting care, considering those two are the messiest and have a habit of inconsistent personal care. Kaon has his servos full tugging the Pet away to the communal showers. Vos enjoys being an ass because you tend to nick his cables with quick swipes of a scalpel as Tarn lingers and winds up both clutches over their papa and uncle.

Meanwhile, Soundwave is trying to make his escape because he knows Tarn is thinking about cuddles and you're projecting filthy X-rated scenes, but he's trapped by social convention and that sparkling still chewing on his data-cable.

Nurse blames the alcohol for the second clutch as well as disbelief since you shouldn't have sparked up. Not that fast.

The third clutch was just plain weakness because you could have put your pede down and stayed on the ship. But you didn't (and you're not thinking about the implications, no sir, not at all, you're most definitely not thinking about the taste of your legal Conjux's Energon and how his neck-cables felt beneath your denta-)

Tarn can be dense/oblivious as the Head of Idiot Sandwiches. Still doesn't know he had imprinted. He just knows he enjoys Nurse's company and the family life and feels more well-rested even with the chaos. (Aka his Seekerkin-coding is finally getting sociality it has been screaming for by latching onto a carrier-mate and resulting bitties). Tarn is patting himself on the back, being an excellent donor and upholding Decepticon creed, and thanks to Lord Megatron's clarification, he will do his Conjunxal duties!

(Cue everyone else staring at this walking disaster that's in deep denial he's been doing the enthusiastic husband role for a long while already, and Kaon is still awaiting for the orn that Tarn and Nurse will figure out their true feelings until then he has his evidence board, holos, and all the gifts under his floorboards that he's slowly giving to the intended couple.

The communication specialist was giddy, and Sixshot had done a sigh of relief when Tarn, miracles of miracles, had finally given into the impulse to bite a coaxing door-wing. The result had the poor guy hailing Nickel because your reaction was intense.)

High Command is in a deadlock on whether or not to update the Donor Clause, considering said ridiculousness is highly effective.

[chibitantei]

Dungeon Meshi | v: Dreams Of A Brighter Day

Age: 18-20

Race: Tallman, Human in the Eastern Archipelago lingo

Birthplace: Eastern Archipelago, Wa

Build: 5’3” (161 cm) / It’s rude to ask (underweight)

Relatives: Grandfather, mother and father (deceased)

Affiliated Party: Investigation Team*

Occupation: Private investigator, maybe a kinda adventurer

Likes: Coffee Not picky

Dislikes: Overly sour foods, but will eat them if she must

*Obviously doesn’t need to exist, they’re mentioned to give Naoto an established party for optional background flavor. Regardless, she offers her services to other parties with her job as an investigator, and she’s not considered a member of any party she lends her services to.

I completed the manga and read the World Guide book.

Abilities

Everything a detective does: All the skills a detective is expected to have. If for any reason, only a few members of the team can proceed further into dangerous areas, it’s an unspoken rule that Naoto must accompany them. In particular, observation comes in handy when trying to navigate the dungeon, find shortcuts or traps, dismantling them and so on. While she lacks the heightened sensitivity and natural lightness half foots have, she’s the only member of the team who is up to the task. This extends to having an above average understanding of monster weak points and behaviors, although not to the extent as Laios or Senshi.

She’s mostly well known in the Eastern Archipelago and the southern portion of the Eastern Continent. It isn’t a stretch to say that her name may have spread beyond, but the majority of her cases take place in the two aforementioned locations

Hiding Presence: Some of her cases took her into the dungeons while alone, so Naoto quickly learned to hide her presence and escape from tight situations without monsters or other adventuring parties taking notice of her.

Swordsmanship: Growing up in the Eastern Archipelago where war is rampant, she was trained in using a sword for protection. One-on-one combat isn’t her favorite, but she can hold her own in a fight, provided she isn’t massively outnumbered. That being said, she tends to employ trickery, and is most certainly not the person to go for if asking for an honorable bout. The sword is the only weapon she refuses to lose.

Marksmanship/Dexterity: She is adept at using a crossbow, although she typically uses it inside dungeons. Outside, she uses throwing knives, but they aren’t meant to inflict great amounts of damage. Magic is cast on the knives to make sure they are never truly lost, but even if someone undoes it, they’ll be disappointed with how cheap they are.

Berserker...?: Merely an untested joke within the team that the loss of Naoto’s iconic cap results in her launching in a blind rampage, unable to distinguish friend from foe. It’s only a joke, as they say.

Tidbits:

The Investigation Team are known for rescuing adventures who have wandered into the dungeon and have gotten lost/gone missing. Due to their party holding eight members instead of the recommended six, it’s not uncommon that they split into two teams or leave a few members above ground.

Holds fascination with ancient dwarf technology. Unfortunately hasn’t tried to recreate what she’s seen.

While she initially has qualms about eating monsters, it’s something she quickly gets over. If the Investigation Team is a present factor, Yu had similar ideas to Senshi when it comes to eating monsters.

Cat Girl Variant

TBA TBA

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you through a movie (Javi G x Bodyguard!reader)

Month: April

Word count: ~2800

Warnings: Spoilers for a movie that came out in 1992

Notes: Javi takes his bodyguard camping and tries to express his feelings through a movie. Part of the Bodyguard!verse. Find the rest of it on my masterlist

Beta read by my wonderful @yespolkadotkitty <3

The rest of the Year of Creation stories

@yearofcreation2023

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You really should have seen this coming.

Javi had brought up the idea of going on a camping trip a few weeks back – during a screening of The Blair Witch Project, that you very much regretted having agreed to – and you'd barely let him finish the sentence before telling him: ”No! Absolutely not!”

It wasn't even primarily about the movie, although you couldn't say that it inspired the same desire in you to venture into the woods as it apparently had in your boss. There was just no way you would let Javi stay in a flimsy fabric tent in the middle of nowhere and pretend that you had any chance in Hell of keeping him safe.

Javi had protested, because of course he had. He'd tried to persuade you using both his patented puppy eyes and sad sighing. But against all odds – perhaps aided by the horrified screams from the movie in the background – you had held your ground. Few things sounded less tempting than a massacre in the woods.

The fact that Javi had actually given up soon after, with nothing but a dejected sigh, really should have given you pause.

But you had pridefully chalked it up to the firmness of your voice having been able to inspire some extra sense of respect for authority in Javi. Even if he had an arsenal of tricks to try and convince you to let him do things he wanted to, he always listened to you when it actually mattered.

Except for when it came to camping trips, apparently.

The deception was revealed weeks later when Javi had asked to go for a walk in the garden after dinner. That in itself wasn't anything unusual. Javi often asked you to join him on his evening strolls. It was a sort of routine that had been going on for months now. Javi said the fresh air helped him think and work through whatever creative hurdle he was currently struggling with.

He used you as a sounding board for his thoughts and ideas, though your participation was a very passive one. You weren't educated enough in the field to actually give any useful creative advice, so mostly you just listened. But Javi always thanked you at the end of the walks, as if your contribution had been invaluable.

And with all this in mind, you didn't find it particularly odd when Javi reached over with a tap to your bicep to get your attention and asked if you wanted to go with him.

It wasn't odd. The quick exchange of a look between your colleagues, however...

You were certain that you had seen them glance at each other, out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned to face them, there had been no trace of anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual easy-going conversation that always flowed around the dinner table in Javi's house.

Feeling somewhat paranoid and doubting yourself, you'd stood up to follow Javi outside. If you checked that your gun was properly holstered one extra time, you made sure to do it when you were out of sight from the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spotted the baby blue atrocity beneath one of the stone walls well before Javi had the decency to confess to his crimes, and you almost grabbed him to pull him behind you, before it properly registered what it was that you were seeing. Then you stopped dead in your tracks and turned away from the tent to give Javi an outraged look.

In return, he gave you an innocently hopeful smile.

”Javi...” you said, voice halfway between disbelieving and weary.

”Hear me out,” Javi said quickly, holding his hands up as if surrendering, even if you realized he had no plans whatsoever to do just that. He never had. This much was becoming more and more evident as Javi looked like he was preparing to deliver a well-rehearsed speech.”You said no when I asked because it was not safe. This... this is safe.”

You opened your mouth to protest but Javi made a tsking noise and snapped his fingers like you were a dog. You would have gotten offended if your brain wasn't partially occupied with trying to figure out how the Hell Javi had managed to orchestrate this whole thing without you knowing. He was usually an open book and it was quite frankly a bit concerning that he had managed to pull a fast one on you like this.

Javi's next words pulled you back to the here and now.

”The others have promised to watch the garden all night. There are so many cameras. I would not be safer in my bed.”

The others...

You didn't say anything. Technically, Javi was probably correct. But recruiting the others to help trick you was still a low blow and not something you approved of at all.

Javi looked at you with pleading eyes.

”Please,” he told you. ”I've never been camping. I just wanted to go, this one time.”

In the end, it was the please that did it. Every fucking time...

You fished your cell phone out of your pocket, hitting speed dial. It only rang once before Manolo picked up.

”I want an extra security sweep of the garden,” you told him, ignoring the surprised laugh from Javi in the background. ”And I want all the motion sensors switched on, and there better be two eyes glued to the feed until we're back in the house in the morning.”

”You got it, boss!” came the reply and you could hear the bastard smirk. You let out a steadying breath through your nose.

”Oh, and Manolo,” you said. “Fuck you!”

There was laughter on the other end of the line when you hung up.

Looking up, you were met with the brightest grin, and something inside you did a weird somersault.

”Come on,” you told him, voice softening, but still adding an empty threat: ”Before I change my mind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tent Javi had bought was nothing too flashy, but big enough for two people to be able to sleep without twisting themselves into pretzels, which was a point in its favor.

When Javi crawled inside, you noticed two backpacks – one looking suspiciously like your own – and two thick sleeping bags, along with a pile of pillows and blankets. Thankfully, all of them sans the face of Nicolas Cage. No tent would be big enough to share with that face. The pillow you had been gifted when you started working for Javi still haunted you from the deepest part of your closet. It was only out of consideration for Javi's feelings that it hadn't been burnt.

All in all, the tent looked very comfortable. You were by no means a stranger to spending nights in a tent or sleeping on the ground, and this looked to be as close to cozy as you would get while sleeping outdoors.

It quickly became clear that while you were more than happy with the level of comfort of this sleeping arrangement, the same could not be said for Mr. Javi Gutierrez.

Since you had entered the tent, you didn't think he'd been still for more than a couple of seconds. He was tossing and turning on his side of the tent, huffing out annoyed breaths when no position seemed to offer the comfort he wanted.

”There are perfectly good beds in the house,” you eventually suggested.

”No,” Javi replied stubbornly. ”I just...” He moved again.

You decided to take pity on him, even though he had very much brought this on himself.

”Here, let me...” you said, waving a hand at him. ”Roll up against the wall.”

Javi did as he was told and you pushed your sleeping bag over to his side for extra padding. You wouldn't be using it anyway, because the maniac next to you had brought sleeping bags fit for Arctic climate to a camping trip in Mallorca in April. You'd boil alive sleeping inside one of those. The heap of blankets Javi had also brought would be more than enough to keep you warm through the night.

”Better?” you asked when Javi rolled back onto the now two sleeping bags.

”Won't you need it?” Javi asked, actually sounding concerned, which made you want to reach over to smooth out the furrow that had formed between his eyebrows.

”I've slept in far worse places,” you assured him. ”This is fine.”

Javi didn't look entirely pleased with that answer but he seemed to decide to let it slide, for now.

”You want to watch a movie?” he suggested instead and the tone with which he asked piqued your interest. There was a note of nervousness, which was unusual when Javi spoke about movies.

”Sure,” you said, raising an eyebrow in question.

Javi didn't provide any further details, just nodded and brought out his iPad. Seeming to avoid your gaze, he started tapping away at the screen, and you decided that whatever he was up to, it most likely wouldn't result in any actual danger. Worst case, you were in for another horror movie. 

So while Javi decided on which movie he wanted to watch, you let your head fall back against your pillow and brought up your phone to check in with the house.

Less than ten seconds after you had sent the message, Manolo replied and gave the all-clear, along with a request to please relax and just enjoy having the evening off.

During the exchange, Javi had finished setting up the movie. Rolling over to face him, you realized too late that with the iPad propped up against Javi's backpack like that, there was only one way to arrange yourselves for both of you to be able to see the screen.

You were proven correct a moment later when Javi laid down and scooted back a little, effectively turning himself into the little spoon in front of you. You tensed up, and Javi must have noticed because he asked ”Is this okay?” with his feet bumping nervously against yours. And you wanted to tell him ”No” because nothing about this situation was technically okay, considering he was in fact your boss.

Instead, you heard your traitorous mouth answer the question with a slightly hoarse ”Yeah. It's fine.”

That seemed to relax Javi at least. Not you.

You were suddenly acutely aware of your arm and where to put it. It was balancing awkwardly on your own thigh, a safe distance from where the soft blue fabric of Javi's shirt dipped slightly at his waist.

When Javi started the movie, you were too preoccupied with the proximity of your bodies to immediately register just which movie that was.

The name Kevin Costner appeared on screen and there was something at the back of your mind, some vague sort of recognition. It clicked when his name was closely followed by Whitney Houston's.

The Bodyguard. You were about to watch The Bodyguard.

Closing your eyes, you held back the sigh before it could pass between your lips. Javi would notice. And he would say something about it. Something you wouldn't know how to reply to. It would be better if you pretend not to notice. If you just watched the movie in silence, ignoring any and all similarities to your real lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You envied Frank Farmer with an unflattering intensity that might have left your cheeks with a faint tint of green. Along with it came a bitter feeling that – if you were perfectly honest – was just as much aimed at yourself as the fictional character on the small screen in front of you.

Logically, you were fully aware that what you were watching was nothing but a Hollywood spectacle, a series of events where someone had already decided on a satisfying enough ending to justify the journey and the events that led up to it, a story where even the mistakes served a purpose and no fuck up was big enough to cause irreparable damage.

Still, you both envied and resented Frank for how easily he seemed to give in to the flirtations of the person he was supposed to keep safe and alive. Especially, when it took every fiber of your being to stop yourself from doing just the same, to stop yourself leaning forward to brush your lips over the tanned skin just below the curls at the nape of Javi's neck.

It would be the easiest thing and the hardest thing in the world at once. Not because you were worried Javi would push you away, but because you knew that he wouldn’t. And the two of you didn't have the Hollywood assurance that everything would turn out OK in the end, didn't have the guarantee that giving into months' worth of developing feelings wouldn't be just the thing that – maybe not today or tomorrow, but some day – caused the death of the gentle man in front of you that, against all odds, had taken a liking to you as well.

You were hired to protect, and in Javi's case, it had turned out that meant to protect him both from external threats but also from himself and his bleeding heart.

So when Javi shifted to move even closer, you put your hand at his waist, not to pull him in but to stop him.

”I'm not Kevin Costner,” you told him and Javi let out a sad chuckle.

”No,” he said, ”You're better.”

You agreed - even if better probably meant different things for you and Javi - and the limitations that came with being better pained you. You were better. You had to be.

Javi didn't say anything more after that. Not until the twist in the movie where it was revealed who had hired the hitman to kill Rachel.

”I can't believe someone would betray their family like that,” he whispered, as if not to interrupt what was happening on screen.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that you could absolutely believe it and that, if murder statistics were taken into consideration, the sister had been the most likely suspect right from the start. You'd seen it many times over, the things that people were willing to do to their supposed family. The fact that Javi couldn't even fathom such a thing as a possibility was a constant worry at the back of your mind. He was too trusting. Always too goddamn trusting!

The ending of the movie was, in your opinion, the most realistic thing about the whole story. Whatever the characters had didn't last. Of course, it didn't. It was nothing but a silly fantasy to think that it ever could. There were too many things besides feelings to take into consideration.

Whitney Houston sang about love and you wanted to break the iPad because Javi started singing along. It was quiet and out of tune but you heard every ”I love you” so clearly, and you knew it was not a coincidence.

Nails dug into your palms as you tightly clenched your hands into fists. Pain to distract yourself from the unbidden images of rolling Javi onto his back to...no!

You just needed to hold out a little longer, just until the song stopped and the end credits had finished rolling.

But Javi surprised you by reaching forward to turn off the iPad in the middle of the credits, when the last note of I Will Always Love You rang out. It was out of character and you realized that you had approximately 2 seconds to react before Javi did something you would both regret.

So you sat up.

”We should get some sleep,” you told him, pretending to look for something in your backpack. ”It's late.”

You waited until you heard Javi shifting back to his own side of the tent, and felt like a complete asshole.

Immensely grateful for the complete darkness of the tent, you laid back down, rolling over onto your side, facing away from Javi. You didn't want to see the rejection on his face, or worse, have him realize that the pain was mirrored on your own face as well.

It was better for him to stop trying and just let you protect him.

As if reading your mind, Javi spoke from the other side of the tent a few moments later, in the gentlest voice imaginable.

”You could do both. I know you could.”

You pretended not to have heard him but stared into the darkness long after you heard him fall asleep behind you.

[winxanity-ii]

⌜No Hoods Attached | Chapter 16 Chapter 16 | bonded⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

A week into your new role at HYBE, you've started to settle into the rhythm of your responsibilities. With Jinji working from home, you're now stationed in his office, a space that's gradually becoming more familiar each day.

Today's agenda begins with a task that seems straightforward enough: delivering scripts to Yoongi for his upcoming press conference.

As you approach Yoongi's studio, the door slightly ajar, the distinct sound of a beat being crafted flows out into the hallway, drawing you in. It's the background music for the OST he's working on, a project that's been the buzz of the building.

Pausing at the threshold, you listen for a moment, the complexity and depth of the composition striking a chord within you.

Knocking lightly before entering, you find Yoongi immersed in his work, headphones on, his focus evident in his furrowed brow and the way his fingers dance over the mixing board. He looks up, a bit startled, as you step inside, the scripts in hand.

"I've got the scripts for the upcoming press conference," you announce, placing them on a nearby surface.

Yoongi nods, offering a brief "Thanks," before his attention returns to the music. But as you're about to leave, something in the melody catches your ear—a minor discord that seems to beg for resolution.

Hesitating, you turn back to Yoongi, noticing a hint of frustration in his demeanor, a sign he's been grappling with this very section. 

"Um, Yoongi-ssi," you begin, hesitating for just a moment. "The track is incredible, but there's a section where maybe...," you trail off, not wanting to overstep but feeling compelled to share your thought.

Seeing his intrigued yet cautious expression, you take a small step forward. "May I?" you ask, gesturing toward the headphones. With a nod from Yoongi, you slip them on, the music enveloping you, its details even more pronounced now.

"It's just here," you say, pointing to a segment on the screen. "Maybe it could go something like this?" Without thinking, you hum out a melody, a bridge that could seamlessly connect the disjointed verse, your voice steady and clear.

Yoongi's expression shifts from skepticism to consideration, his eyes narrowing as he replays the section, then listens to your suggestion again. A moment of silence hangs in the air, heavy with anticipation, and after observing Yoongi's contemplative expression, you immediately take it as disapproval.

Your mind races with thoughts of having overstepped your boundaries, and you can't help but feel a surge of panic at the thought of making a misstep so early in your role.

With a wave of anxiety washing over you, you instantly regret voicing your suggestion. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. Please ignore me," you stammer, your confidence evaporating as quickly as it arrived.

With a flurry of bows, more awkward than respectful, you mumble a string of apologies. "I just thought—sorry, it won't happen again," you add, your voice laced with embarrassment. Placing the folder containing the scripts beside Yoongi with a little too much haste, you make a beeline for the door, eager to escape what you perceive as an uncomfortable situation.

Once outside, you take a deep breath, mentally chastising yourself for the impromptu input. "You're doing too much, Y/N, calm down..." you mutter under your breath, a reminder to keep your observations to yourself in the future.

Meanwhile, back in the studio, Yoongi watches your hasty retreat with a hint of amusement in his eyes. Despite your apparent nervousness, the melody you hummed lingered in his mind, a curious and unexpected interjection that sparked his interest.

After a moment's hesitation, curiosity wins out, and he decides to give your suggestion a try.

Adjusting the track, Yoongi integrates your hummed melody into the section, his skilled fingers working the controls with ease. As the new bridge fills the studio, blending seamlessly with the surrounding verses, a surprised smile creases his lips.

It works—better than he'd anticipated. The track now flows with a newfound cohesion, the awkward jump smoothed over by the melody you provided.

Leaning back in his chair, Yoongi allows himself a moment of appreciation for the serendipitous contribution. "Not bad," he murmurs, a nod to your unexpected talent and a mental note that perhaps, just perhaps, there's more to you than meets the eye.

☆

☆

The next day, while engrossed in your tasks, you're startled when Yoongi's personal assistant approaches your desk, a serious yet gentle expression on her face. "Yoongi-ssi would like to see you in his studio," she informs you, an undercurrent of something unspoken in her voice that piques your curiosity.

As you enter Yoongi's studio, the air is filled with a different kind of energy, quieter and more introspective. Yoongi greets you with a nod, motioning for you to take a seat.

You sit, nervously fidgeting under his scrutinizing gaze. The room feels heavy with unspoken expectations, making your heart race.

Yoongi breaks the silence, his voice steady. "Have you ever considered producing?" he asks, eyes locked on yours.

You're caught off guard, a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind. "P-Producing? Me? No, I've never really thought about it," you stutter out, your voice trailing off as you avert your gaze, feeling out of your depth.

Yoongi huffs lightly, a hint of impatience or perhaps curiosity in his tone. He leans over, pressing a button on his console.

Suddenly, the familiar tune from the previous day fills the room, but now there's an additional layer—a subtle melody that you recognize as your own humming from yesterday. The integration is seamless, adding a new depth to the piece.

Your eyes widen in surprise, a mix of pride and disbelief washing over you. "That's... that's the melody I hummed," you murmur, almost to yourself, amazed at how your casual hum has been transformed into a part of this beautiful composition.

Seeing your surprise, Yoongi leans back, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "See? You have a good ear. It's not just about playing instruments or knowing music theory. It's about feeling the music, understanding it. You did that instinctively."

His words resonate with you, stirring a newfound confidence. Perhaps there's more to your connection with music than you've allowed yourself to acknowledge.

Yoongi's expression softens, his demeanor shifting as he shares a piece of his own story. "At first, I was skeptical about Bang PD-nim's plan," he admits, "thinking it was just about appeasing some rich man's daughter. But then I learned you're Yuuji's sister."

"Your brother, was someone I admired," Yoongi continues, his voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and admiration. "His passion, his music, his fight with cancer—I respected him greatly. It inspired me, especially when I was just starting out. So knowing you're his sister... it feels like fate's way of connecting dots."

After a moment of silence, Yoongi extends an unexpected offer. "How about you try your hand at this? Help me with some lyrics or beats for the OST. No pressure, just explore and see where it takes you."

The offer feels like a lifeline, an opportunity to delve into the world Yuuji loved, to contribute in a way you'd never imagined. Nodding, you reply, a mixture of excitement and determination in your voice. "I'd...I'd like to try. Thank you, Yoongi-ssi."

***why does yoongi give off big-brother protective vibes???? wish i had a brother waaahhh...

[dragonshoardofwriting]

Any quirk ideas for like a detective? I'm thinking of making a oc that's a detective

Oooo, I love detectives!

Quirk: Faint Presence Desc: Upon activation, living beings stop noticing the user. Does not work on people who were focusing on the user at the time of activation. Effect disappears if the user does something to bring attention to themself. Notes: Good for tailing people, listening in to conversations, or sneaking into places if your detective is more of a not bound by rules variety.

Quirk: Last moments Desc: Upon touching a corpse, the user relieves the last moments of the person it belongs to. Notes: Classic of supernatural detective stories. So long as your victim didn't actually see the killer as they died, it just gives clues instead of destroying the whole mystery. But! If they do see the killer, it can instead be a plot of "I know who the killer is, but I need to get the evidence/get them to confess or else they won't get convicted!"

Quirk: Enhanced senses Desc: Gives the user enhanced senses. Notes: Plain and basic, but very useful for story purposes. The detective has easier time finding clues, and might even get some regular humans couldn't (like noticing a smell that's too faint for human senses) - it also explains why the culprit didn't try to destroy said clues, they were just impossible to notice for a basic human.

Quirk: Voice Mimicry Desc: Allows the user to mimic voices and sounds they've previously heard. Notes: More so for less law-bound detectives, it's a nice plot piece where deception is key. Impersonating others by voice, tricking people with noises, a crafty person can find many uses for this ability while pursuing a case.

Quirk: Empathy Desc: Allows the user to feel what emotions other people are feeling. Notes: A rather popular quirk idea, and a good fit for a detective. They know what someone is feeling at any time, *but* they might not know why. Allows to keep the mystery while providing clues.

Quirk: Cyberlink Desc: Lets the user link with electronic devices, letting the user access anything on them while bypassing their security measures. To link with a device the user has to either touch it directly, or go through a network it's connected with via another device. Note: A very useful quirk in the age where everything is connected to the internet. Basically results in a super-hacker type of detective. They can access classified documents, personal messages and all other sorts of stuff they lawfully shouldn't have access to, but which will likely help them pursue a case.

Quirk: Spirit Board Desc: The user can summon a spirit board, which only answers yes or no questions. Notes: Allows the detective to get clues, if they can figure out the right questions to ask. However, as readers would probably notice, the detective may just go around asking "Is this person the culprit?" with every person of interest they find. For some mysteries it could be a feature, not a bug. For others, I'd personally advise adding some conditions to quirk usage that'd prevent brute-force methods like that, like only getting a set number of questions to ask a day.

Quirk: Perfect recall Desc: The user has perfect memory and doesn't forget anything. Notes: Pretty basic of a superpower, but a useful device for a detective story. Removes the unrealisticness of a character being able to remember every little detail to put together later. Also, if you give your character a backstory of reading books on many subjects to be well-versed in whatever may be needed, it accounts for them having plot-convenient knowledge (since they would remember all the book details - you just have to be sure it's realistic for them to have studied something. So, knowledge of basic medicine is more viable than, for example, knowing symbolic meanings of flowers in a culture in a time period - they just have more reasons to believe basic medicine would come up [like for examining bodies] than that flower meanings would. Not to say they can't know both, it may just feel less reasonable to readers)

Quirk: Strings of Fate Desc: Upon activation on a person, the user can see strings tying that person to people they have some relation with. The colour informs the kind of relation it is, while the thickness of the string signifies the depth of the relation. Notes: It's basically free clues. Might help with uncovering motives. Also, lends itself well to an emotionally intelligent detective, who can use those different relationships they get to know about to their advantage.

[eurovision-revisited]

Eurovision 2003 - Number 4 - Sertab Erener - "Everyway That I Can"

This is the highest a Eurovision winner has been in my lists for a while. If there's one thing Eurovision has missed for the past four or five years, it's winner that was a hit. Sertab Erener and Türkiye provided that in 2003. Everyway That I Can came out of nowhere on the night to spring a surprise (and last minute) win, then went on to be a hit all around Europe throughout the summer.

Sertab herself was already a star in Türkiye, having had several number 1 singles and five albums, several of which were also big hits. TRT had decided to go with an internal selection in 2003 having had several years of mid-table results. While never really being in danger of relegation, TRT wanted better. Picking Sertab was an opportunity too big to miss. They went with a song written by herself and her long-time song-writing partner Demir Demirkan (former guitarist with Anatolian thrash metal band Mezarkabul).

Türkiye was a country that had stuck by its native language entirely, even when the language rule had been removed, they stayed true to Turkish. It was announced that the song would be entirely in English, there were complaints. But TRT stuck to their guns. Everyway That I Can is a dramatic, contemporary pop song with a Turkish rhythm and instrumental grace notes incorporated into something thoroughly modern.

It's stuffed full of drama, both in terms of the lyrical need for a desperate no-holds barred seduction, and in terms of the progression of the song from verse to chorus to the semi-rapped Spice Girly bridge while her dancers treat Sertab as a pink-wrapped maypole. There are plenty of opportunities for belly-dancing and hipsway. It's astonishing how well packaged the entire song is. It is everything you could wish for in a Eurovision winner.

The scoring sequence with Türkiye creeping up the board and pulling a win out of the bag in the final two votes was astonishing, and looked like it came as miraculous shock to the Turkish delegation. Their joy at winning is evident during one of the most happily celebratory reprises the Eurovision stage has seen. Türikye had finally got their first win and Sertab would forever be remembered not just in Türkiye but across Europe.

It wasn't the first time she'd tried to enter Eurovision. She'd finished third at Şarkı Yarışması 1989 and sixth in 1990. After that, her career took her to other places, but 2003 came along just at the perfect moment for her. Since then she's cemented her position in the Turkish musical world, releasing album after album and at least forty singles in total. She sings pop, traditional Turkish music, jazz and has found inspiration in the voice of Barbara Streisand.

Here she is singing Olsun with the İzmir Big Band in 2018.

[endless-oc-creations]

Mimi's Mobile Marvel Oc Masterlist

Updated: 1/02/24

Name: Alexei ‘Junior’ Shostakov

Title: Burned Bridges

Faceclaim: Karl Urban

Love interest: TBD {To Be Determined}

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More to be added.

Name: Alpheus

Title:  In the Stars

Faceclaim:  Jason Momoa

Love interest: Kingo

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Amora Harley

Title: A White Witch & A Spider

Faceclaim:  Jennifer Morrison

Love interest: Natasha Romanoff

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: Since Amora was born her mother warned her about others using her powers for their own gain, too bad it was her own father being one of them. Her mother suddenly disappeared and Amora was forced to grow up in a lab run by her father to experiment and use her powers until one day a secret agent broke into the lab, destroying their lab and offering Amora a place in S.H.I.E.L.D alongside her. Amora agreed and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, using her powers to help save people and protect the one who saved her, Natasha Romanoff.

Name: Alice Brye

Title: Living Dead Girl

Faceclaim:  Kate Beckinsale

Love interest: Eric Brooks

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Bentley Brock

Title: ATLAS

Faceclaim:  Dylan O'Brien

Love interest: Peter Parker {Andrew Spider-Verse}

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: When Bentley was a little boy, his mother was the light of his life, like any little boy would be towards their loving mother, but he never knew his dad. His mom said that was because they broke up before she found out she was pregnant with him. Bentley always wondered about him, what he was like, was he nice? etc. His mom always told him all the good things about him, stories about him and his motorcycle, his humor, his kindness, every wonderful thing about the man, and Bentley's mother told him about it. But at the age of five Bentley's life came crashing down. One day he found his mom in her bed dead, she had died from a sudden heart attack in her sleep. Bentley was taken by a social worker who then brought him to the only person he had left, his dad, Eddie Brock. He didn't know what to do or feel at first, and his dad didn't seem to know either, but Bentley ended up getting extremely close to his dad and loved him dearly. When he was 15 another sudden event changed his life or well someone caused it, Carlton Drake. His dad was fired, his girlfriend Ann, a mother figure to him, left him after being fired from her job because of it and they had to move. Ann offered Bentley to stay with her but he declined, he wouldn't leave his dad. Yes, his dad was irresponsible and didn't go about things the right way, but he was confident enough to know that his dad had a reason to, Carlton Drake was a real bad guy. So he would try to gather enough evidence or research in secret to try and help his dad out because he wanted to see him smile again and live his life. But his research seemed to make him more confused and concerned about what was going on, aliens from outer space? Human experiments? And before he could even get further research his dad seemed to have one of the aliens...inside him? Its name was Venom and it would change both father and son's life forever.

Name: Alexandra Rhodes

Title: All the Stars

Faceclaim:  Jasmin Savoy Brown

Love interest: To be Determined

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More to be added.

Name: Celine Jayden

Title: Fun Sized

Faceclaim:  Kristen Bell

Love interest: Scott Lang

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Frankie Rose Parker

Title: My Little Spider

Faceclaim: Winona Ryder

Love interest: May Parker

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Helen Ivy

Title: Ready,Aim, Love

Faceclaim: Camren Bicondova

Love interest: Kate Bishop

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Isabella Hayes

Title: Ignited Series

Faceclaim:  Arden Cho

Love interest: Sam Wilson & Bucky Barnes

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: Isabella was a total farm girl who grew up in a small town with her family. She was happy with her parents, little sister even her fiancé until one day a gang rolled into town and started destroying it when they wouldn't reply and during the chaos, Isabella was knocked out. When she came to she was greeted by the sight of her beloved town in ruins and flames...bodies littered around it. So she rushed off towards her family's farm praying that they were okay but it was not what she hoped. Her mother, father, sister, and even her beloved were slaughtered like everyone else in her town. Lost in grief and despair she never noticed a stranger who appeared behind her...offering her a chance to get revenge for all of her loved ones, at a price of course. So without anything to lose Isabella said yes without thinking of the consequences and becoming a Ghost Rider...

Name: Robyn Hammer

Series Title: The Merc and The Knight

Faceclaim:  Blake Lively

Love interest: Wade Wilson and Vanessa Carlysle

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: Robyn had a pretty normal life, working alongside her brother Weasel at Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children as a bartender. A place where mercenaries accept and cash in on private jobs, this life was normal for her at least. One day she meets a certain mercenary named Wade Wilson who changed her life completely. At first, their relationship had been BFWB, Best Friends With Benefits, but then Wade met Vanessa. Eventually, Robyn had become a part of their relationship as well and she was happy, then Wade was diagnosed with cancer, turning their lives upside down. Robyn did her best to support both of her lovers, but one day Wade disappeared without a trace. After Robyn found out about the sketchy character that talked to Wade the night before and knowing Wade would be doing something stupid out of desperation, Robyn was determined to find him by doing anything necessary. Ultimately becoming the anti-hero Black Knight.

Name: Kevin Quill

Title: Cosmic Twins Series {1st part posted}

Faceclaim:  Thomas Brodie-Sangster

Love interest: Adam Warlock(Possibly) 

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: When Kevin was just a baby he was taken from his home in an orphanage on the planet Terra. He was taken by a group of aliens going to sell him on the black market on the planet Knowhere, but he was spotted by a teenage Peter Quill who saved him just in time. He was taken in by Peter, who already gave him a name, Kevin Maverick, which in turn Yondu said if Quill didn’t want them to get rid of him it was his responsibility. So Kevin became a part of Yondu’s Ravagers and Quill’s younger brother. It was a crazy life growing up for Kevin, who doesn’t even know that his name was based on the actor Kevin Bacon from the movie Footloose or the Tom Cruise film Top Gun, it was even harder trying to make sure his older brother didn’t die doing stupid shit, but he loved being by his brother's side and the family he had grew in size when the Guardians of The Galaxy formed.

Name: Kvasir

Title: Timeless Series

Faceclaim: Kit Harington

Love interest: Loki Laufeyson & Mobius M. Mobius

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: Kvasir learned at an early age that he was to be brought up as a warrior, the protector of the sons of King Odin. So, his father sent him away to be trained and live in the Royal Palace of Valaskjalf. He was a quiet boy that kept to himself and focused on his training despite missing his mother, who had unfortunately passed away a year before he was sent away. He would train under the rough commanders, which were way rougher than they should have been with him, but there was one person who was patient with him and helped him learn things smoother and that was Heimdall. When Kvasir had any free time he would be reading, keeping to himself. However, one day there was someone that had gotten Kvasir to open up more, and that someone was the one who he was sworn to protect Loki. He taught him fun, to play games, and even showed him his magic. So, the two became incredibly close, making Kvasir loyal to Loki and Loki alone. So, Kvasir grew up being by his side through anything...and it was true because when Loki took Odin's thrown after Thor's banishment, become his left-handed man. Even after that, Kvasir would still follow Loki to whatever depths of mischief he wrought against anyone.

Name: Laura Lewis

Title: Ascending Thunder

Faceclaim:  Zooey Deschanel

Love interest: Thor Odinson

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

Name: Jude Stark

Title: My Father’s Legacy Series

Faceclaim:  Logan Lerman

Love interest: To Be Determined{TBD}

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: In 2002 Tony Stark received a call from the hospital about a newborn baby boy being abandoned by his mother and she had put his name down as the father. Tony knew the woman as one of his drunken flings but wanted to make absolutely sure he was the father so he took a DNA test. The test came back to confirm that Tony Stark was indeed the father of the baby boy, throwing him into the unexpected world of a single dad. Tony ends up naming the baby boy Jude Edwin Stark. Growing up, Jude is a shy, but sweet caring boy who cares a lot for his dad, despite the fact that his dad is busy working. He also grew up with little spotlight as possible since his dad didn’t want all that pressure put on him like he did growing up and wanted him to at least have a little bit of a normal life. This ended when Jude was only 6 years old because of his dad being held hostage in Afghanistan and coming back a different person, becoming a superhero known as Iron Man.

Name: Victor Strange

Title: Something in the Way Series

Faceclaim:  Mark Mckenna

Love interest: Peter Parker

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: Victor had a weird twist in life, his mother left him and his dad when he was only three years old and never looked back. His father was a highly talented neurosurgeon that could barely give him the time of day, Victor also had weird vivid dreams about things happening that hadn’t happened yet. He wanted to go to his dad for help but Victor didn’t really know how to express his feelings towards his dad without being brushed away. But then his dad’s accident happen...it threw Victor’s life further into a loop, seeing the man that had always stood so strong was now feeling so worthless and lost. The only one that really helped Victor during this time was his dad’s ex Christine Palmer, who had been like a mother to him since he was younger. But then his dad pushed her away for good, leaving Victor alone with a dad he could barely even talk to without being yelled at to go away then one day he woke up and his dad was gone. He left just like his mom did, but gave him away to Christine. Victor refused to be abandoned again so made it his mission to track down his father's movements and eventually found him in Nepal. Where apparently his dad was learning to become a Master of the Mystic Arts to heal himself...oh and found out his dreams were an ability to see into the future...which should be great for him since he’s seen his father's death more than once.

Name: Vivian Iris

Title: I’ll be your Hero

Faceclaim:  Alicia Vikander

Love interest: Marc Spector/Steven Grant & Layla El-Faouly

Pinterest Board: Link

Summary: More To Be Added...

[the-hatchetfield-chronicles]

Journal log; 6/13/20

I figured I needed something fun to distract me from my nightmare, and what better than a theme park? I’ve always loved riding roller coasters, so naturally I decided to visit Watcher World! I brought my journal as well in case I find any evidence while I’m here.

Mayor Lauter mentioned the park was home to the tallest rollercoaster in the midwest, so I think I’ll ride that one first!!

————

That was so fun!!! I just went around riding all the rides and it was a blast!! The Tear-Jerker was definitely my favorite! I would go and play games now, but I think Blinky’s Watch Party is about to start! I’m very curious about this Blinky character, especially after the way Mayor Lauter talked about him. Plus, I do love musicals, so I think it’ll be fun!

————

The show began with these creatures called Sniggles, who had fuzzy purple wings, purple antennae, and purple shirts that say “Blinky” on the front. They sang a song which was…weird to say the least. They sang about their master, Blinky, but the weird part comes with the horrible treatment he subjects them to? For example, the first verse mentions that if they upset him, he “spills their guts”?? And if they ever cry, they don’t get to eat for a whole week?? For a show that seemed like it was aimed towards kids, it was surprisingly dark. They also sang about what Blinky was like personally. He has a big red and yellow eye, and fur that “spills out and makes the town drowsy,” whatever that means. His giant eye turns red whenever he’s mad, which it sounds like is quite often. They said something about…”When the nightmare hits, our eyes don’t ever shut,” which made me feel pretty uneasy, especially after last night.

After that song was over, the Sniggles ran offstage to I think get snacks? One Sniggle remained onstage, and her name was Snigglette. She sang about her dream of leaving Drowsy Town and starting a family in Snoozle Town. At the end, she was about to board the train to Snoozle Town, but then turned around, saying she’ll “catch the next one.” Her friend overheard her and got angry at her for wanting to leave Drowsy Town. He called her a traitor and said that she was making Blinky cry. I was really feeling anxious for Snigglette, but then Papa Sniggle entered before anything could happen to her. He said that the town was overrun with Snuggle-Bugs, and he began hitting them with a mallet.

The rest of the show was kind of boring. They sang some more songs and told us more about Blinky, but nothing really stood out to me. I was curious though. I remembered what Mayor Lauter had said, emphasizing that Blinky and everything else was entirely fictional. It made me think that there was some truth behind this Blinky character. So after the show ended, I approached one of the actors, the woman who played Snigglette, and asked if I could interview her.