#i love her but there are some benefits to having the flat to myself.... love getting to wander around in just my boxers + a tshirt too

[toastsnaffler]

everyone say thank u to my roommate for going to visit her parents this weekend so I can jack it loud and nasty 🙏

[shotmrmiller]

Tormented by a Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean

TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k

Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!

Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.

--

You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.

Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.

"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"

Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.

"You must be the roommate."

You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.

"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.

"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"

Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.

He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.

"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.

You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.

You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"

He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"

Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.

"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."

His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."

Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.

"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.

You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."

As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.

He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.

--

One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.

Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.

"Well, that was pathetic."

You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.

"What now, Ghost?"

He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."

Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."

As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.

Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.

--

A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.

Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.

He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.

"Can I help you?"

He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.

"No. I'm not doing this with you."

You turn to walk away when he speaks again.

"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."

Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.

"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."

Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.

Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.

--

You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.

"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."

Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.

"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.

"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.

Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.

"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."

You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.

--

And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.

After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.

It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.

"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.

"Get the fuck out."

Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.

"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.

You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.

"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.

"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.

"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.

Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."

He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.” 

And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.

A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.

[ethan-landrys-left-scrotum]

Frenemies

Part 2!!

little a/n the switching of the colors is the switching of Ethan’s and readers pov if you didn’t already know :)

“Y/n. you need to lean back. You need to let me put this seat belt around you,” I say softly, pulling her shoulders back slowly.

She doesn't fight me; she leans back agaisnt my chest and lets me pull the seat belt agaisnt her. I don't know where to put my hands, so they're gripping the seat in an attempt not to make this more challenging than it already is.

“What are you doing?” she asks, head tilting upward until her nose brushing the underside of my jaw.

“What do you mean?” Even though the car is full of others shouting and laughing, for some reason, we were whispering.

She nudges me again with her nose. “You're not touching me…” Her hands grip my forearms and travel down to where my fingers are digging and travel down to where my fingers are digging into the sear, pulling them away and wrapping them around her body instead. An evil giggle slips from her lips. “You're hard.”

I can't even stop the embarrassing groan that seeps out. “Yeah, my dicks having a hard time realizing the wriggling around you're doing isn't for our benefit.”

If it's even possible, she relaxes her body farther into mine and intertwined our hands, placing them both in a comfortable position on her thighs. This feels manageable. No wiggling or squirming; I can get back to the campus like this . Hand-holding and relaxed bodies. Nice, nothing to stress-about.

“If it makes you feel any less embarrassed,” she whispers, moving our right hands along her inner thigh until I can feel the heat radiating from between her legs. “I’m so fucking wet.” Widening her knees she moves our joined hands closer. “And I'm not wearing any panties.”

The darkness in the back of this uber is giving me more confidence than it should.

Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the post-qualifying high, maybe it's the way Ethans body responds to mine, and how he's practically dicking down my ego by telling me the hottest thing he's ever seen in his life.

His hand is about an inch away from making this journey home more interesting, but I tried to avoid this, in my defense. I tried to sit with Anika, whom I knew would go entirely out of her way to ensure our bodies were touching as little as possible.

Shit, he probably would have forced me to sit on the floor of the passenger seat, and if I had been on the floor of the passenger seat, I'd have been good with it. But now, I find myself dealing with the consequences of my actions, with no one to blame for my aching, wet vagina but myself.

My traitorous hips are moving of their own accord. A desperate whimper slipped from my parted lips as Etahn slowly and deliberately rolled his hips forward, hand still interlocked with mine between my legs.

His other hand leaves my thigh, and my arm instinctively raises to sink my fingers into his thick curly locks. My breathing slows as he presses his palm flat to my body and travels across my stomach, over the curve of my breast, circling my nipple but not quite adding enough pressure for me to be satisfied.

“Ethan…” I whimper impatiently. His chuckle is dark and devious, telling me with no words that he does not give one fuck about doing what i want. His hand moves across to my other breast, the same frustrating light touch that has me arching into his hands just to feel more. “Ethan, please…” I tug with the hand still gripping his hair, trying to ignore the goose bumps spreading across my skin every time his hot breath dances across my neck.

His fingers finally punch my taut nipples, nose nudging my head to the side, the slightest stubble covering his jaw scraping over my hammering pulse, teeth nipping the love of my ear. “You only like me when you're drunk and horny.”

“Not true.” I finally let go of the hand settled between my legs, leaving him there as he strokes the inside of my thigh gently. I twist to watch him over my shoulder, his eyes dark and heavy as they meet mine. “I don't like you at any time.”

Lips crash into mine and his hand moves to grip the front of my throat. It's rough and passionate, overwhelming and heated, and a whole host of other words my brain can't even process right now. He squeezes my throat as his tongue explores my mouth, moaning when my teeth sink into his lip. It's not enough; I want him slower, need him closer. He loosened his grip, trailing his mouth across my jaw, kissing and sucking my neck, rough as I rolled my hips against him. “Don't tell me you don't like me when I can feel how wet you are all over your thighs y/n.”

“It'd be all over your hand instead if you did something.”

I'm incredibly close to taking matters into my own hands, although I'm unsure where masturbating in his lap would put us on the frenemy-ship scale. A normal person wpu;d be worried about their audience, but I could scream until the windows shattered and our exceptionally drunk friends wouldn't notice. Drunkenness aside, Taylor Swift's “Cruel Summer” was on the radio and Tara turned it to full volume.

We're in our little world back here; the temperature is hotter, the air ricker, tensions stealing every last bit of oxygen from my lungs. I couldn't even tell you how far away from the campus we are or how many minutes have passed since I climbed in here and settled on Ethans lap. His knees nudge mine farther apart, mouth descending on mine again, more possessive, more dominant. His nose brushes mine. “Can you be a good girl and be quiet?”

I nod, prepared to finally feel his long, thick fingers easing the throbbing between my legs. Instead, he drags one finger gently over my swollen clit, and I can't help the huff of frustration that escapes me. “I'm so close to doing it myself. Tell me if you don't know what you're doing, Ethan.”

The last time I goaded him about not being able to pleasure a woman, he proved me very, very wrong.

His free hand sinks into the hair at the bottom of my neck, tugging so I look up at him. He increases the pressure on my clit and a satisfied moan grumbles in my throat, jaw slacking as the pleasure rolls through my very tense and sexually frustrated body.

Swapping to the heel of his palm. His other hand tightens in my hair. “One day, im going to fuck your pretty mouth, and you’re not going to be able to be such a bossy, impatient little brat.”

He covers my mouth with his, absorbing my satisfied moan as two fingers slide into me, deliciously stretching me.

I shouldn't have promised to be quiet.

The slick,wet noise of Ethans fingers pumping in and out of me would be enough for everyone to know without me even saying a word. The music is still blasting, our friends paying attention to anything but us, and the familiar red-hot pleasure shoots up my spine.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he rasps into my ear. “So wet and tight.”

My hips are bucking against his hand, incoherent pleads and moans slipping from my kips. My knees try to close, my body trying to shy away from building feelings in my core.

He pins my legs open with his, and I'm about to fall headfirst into oblivion. “You gonna come for me? Come all over my fingers, Y/n, show me what it's gonna feel like when I've got my dick buried inside you.”

Releasing my hair, his hand clamps over my mouth to smother my vita as the orgasm rips through me, and I give up being so loud the window shatters my best attempt.

Every bit of me is physically shaking, pleasure spreading through my entire body until my eyes roll back in my head and my back arches off him. He keeps pumping his fingers until the spasming stops, and I slump into a sticky, satisfied mess on his chest. He gently pulls out his fingers and presses his lips against my damp forehead. “Open your mouth,” he tells me, a curious glint in his eyes as i ;look up at him confused.

I do as i'm told, too content to argue, and wait with an open mouth. He presses his two wet fingers against my tongue, and I immediately taste the heady, salty-sweet taste. “Suck, see how fucking good you taste,” he whispers.

“Eth-”

The music cuts off abruptly, and my entire body freezes, eyes widening as Ethan quickly pulls his fingers from mouth and unpins my legs so I can close them.

“Does anyone want McDonalds?”

[kyusunyu]

SUNWOO ↳ “𝕺𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊”

a TBZ frat boyz series.

kim sunwoo x f!reader :: ex lovers/soulmate tropes

warnings: some explicit content 👀, hardly smutty. lots of feels though. (rough edit)

𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔬𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴-𝔦𝔱-𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫’𝔰 𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔫…

“Bite me.”

you were a realist.

far from delusional,

even if the stars aligned on a full moon night.

nothing could convince you to believe that a frat party would be a hell of a good time.

“I have too much shit.” you annunciate, yeeting a pencil in your best friend’s general direction. “Ask Mina. I’m sure she’d find sweaty people and an uncanny amount of booze fun.”

your model of a roommate sulks.

bummed you weren’t like the rest of the girls around here.

like who in their right mind would decline an invite to the biggest frat house in SK?

“Leave it to you to pass on a good time. Boo, tomatoes.”

you send her a merciless smile. “I feel less of a detriment to society this way. Have you seen me in anything other than sweats and a hoodie? It takes effort to look as good as you. Effort I cannot spare for myself.”

“Talk about dramatic.”

dramatics aside,

there was nothing that could possibly be done to drag you out of this dorm room and into the pits of hell called TBZ.

that godforsaken frathood might drive you off a cliff.

you’ll give them the benefit of the doubt.

they were far from hideous— a sight for sore eyes really.

intelligent, sociable, and athletic.

all 11 of them.

even if 2 happened to be both your exes.

once upon a time..

“Well, i’m leaving.” the gorgeous red head flips her hair, model figure hugged in the little black dress she sported. “If i’m not back by morning, send a search party. I love you! Don’t study too hard my little book worm.”

yes.

there were some perks to being roommates and best friend’s with your polar opposite.

a stable social life.

free clothes.

and invites to the biggest parties?

too bad you hardly found any of those to be useful to you.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” her voice sounds irritated, slightly slurred and strained against the echoing music of the party. “Y/n, can you come get me? Fuck— these people are losers. I’m drunk.”

you grimace.

she’s upset.

it’s only midnight and of all people—

Taeri was upset.

“Did something happen?” you mumble sleepily, sitting up to turn on a light. “Are you okay? DId someone hurt you?”

too drunk to process the question, she groans. “Will you just please come and get me? I feel like I’m gonna explode.”

“O-okay, just give me a couple—“

the call flat lines.

great.

the day has finally come that the stars aligned on a full moon night.

albeit, you still didn’t think the frat party was gonna be a good time,

but i guess you’ll bite.

it didn’t take long to wash up a little, whipping out one of Taeri’s hand me down’s.

10 minutes longer and you had your liner drawn and a simple red tint to your velvet lips.

you absolutely dreaded having to face the day you’d ever come to this—

a strapless top, tight jeans and mid height high heels.

but you had some class.

you weren’t gonna be a detriment to society by showing up in half ass pj’s.

“Hey.”

the hottie by the door makes a double take.

“H-hello.”

your forehead creases, eyes looking into the still much alive party. “Aren’t you gonna ask for my name, pretty boy?”

pretty boy doesn’t respond.

honestly, too stunned to answer.

because god damn.

god damn—

“Damnit.” Eric blinks furiously, wiping at his shirt upon spilling some of his drink. “Sorry, name?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n, you’re on the list— Y/n?”

at this point, he’s completely disregarded his drink.

the rest spilling all over his thousand dollar shoes.

“Y/n.” you affirm with a slight chuckle. “Taeri called. Is she alright?”

no, of course she’s not.

the sole reason for her coming, being her ex boyfriend who happens to live here—

who undoubtedly was the cause of the phone call in the first place

“Well all hell hasn’t broke loose yet.” Eric manages to make it through a sentence. “You don’t normally come to these things, don’t you? Taeri said you’re not much of a party goer.”

“Great observation, pretty boy. I was summoned. If Taeri wasn’t in trouble, why’d she call me then?”

he aimlessly shrugs. “Hyunjae hasn’t touched your hot model bestie all night. I mean Sunwoo’s back in town so maybe—“

oh god.

OH MY GOD.

fucking hell on earth.

“Hey, didn’t you and Sunwoo—“

“No I don’t know a Sunwoo.” he elicits a pressed panicked grin by you. “And Sunwoo doesn’t know me. Are we understanding each other? Do I make myself clear, pretty boy.”

the pretty boy grins back. “Fucking crystal.”

you pray to the stars in the sky to disarrange.

you pray for anything but the storm that brews ahead.

you pray for the sake of your roommate,

that this was nothing but a coincidence.

“— that Sunwoo’s back in town, can you believe it?”

you refrain from putting that stranger into a chokehold.

wanting nothing but to be home in your covers.

you’re no cinderella but,

it’s past your damn bedtime.

“Where the fuck is she?” you mumble to yourself incoherently, searching the heavily intoxicated crowd for your best friend.

leave it to her to make you the damn search party.

these heels were killing you.

but those heels on you weren’t just killing you,

it was killing everyone else too.

“You won’t believe who just walked in.” Eric came back to his group of troublemakers, kissing his lips through a devious smirk. “God damn, you won’t believe me when I tell you. Who just walked through our fucking doors.”

Sunwoo’s a little less interested.

tired is a simple word to describe his current attitude.

he just got back into town, man.

it’s been a stressful week for him.

the last thing he wants to deal with was Eric’s crazed nonsense.

Hyunjae’s shoulder’s perk from on top of the counter. “If you’re talking about my god forsaken ex again, we’ve already crossed paths. Like fourth party in a row.”

“Not your ex.”

Eric’s feverish.

he’s only heard about the legend of y/n.

the closed-off maths geek Sunwoo had a boner for freshman year.

the hardly qualified best friend of the hottest model on campus.

“But she’s so fucking hot though.” Eric dreamily drools, nodding from the corner in which they gather. “She’s drop dead gorgeous, Sunwoo. How could a star soccer player like you, drop a once in a lifetime shot like that?”

“What the fuck are you on about, you— you’re kidding.”

the star soccer player can’t remember the last time he saw you.

well, to be fair, the last time he saw you,

you were in an oversized hoodie, worn-in sneakers, and sweats doubled your size.

now people are expecting him to believe his ex girlfriend stalked the halls of his house—

in stunning Louboutins nonetheless.

leather tight top hiked too far up the stomach, cleavage half out and bed hair making you look like a 5-star Michelin.

those heels.

the heels are killing him on you, he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re fucking kidding.” Juyeon jumps from his seat, the rest of the males following suit like a pack of hungry wolves. “That’s her?”

Sangyeon whistles at all that. “I’ll be damned.”

Sunwoo can’t say a thing.

nope.

he’s not allowed to.

leave it to you to sweep the entire party of their feet right after he did.

“Taeri!” you call, unbeknownst to the lingering eyes around you. “Taeri, where are you!”

your heels click at the tiles,

excusing yourself in the crowd like the prim you are.

noting to run as soon as you find,

“Kim Sunwoo.”

your breath’s taken away.

haphazard and eyes blown out of their sockets.

you can’t run if he’s the one that finds you.

“Sunwoo, I—“

he doesn’t let you manage even a word.

clearly won’t let you say a thing.

not that you weren’t allowed to.

after all,

he’s the one that got away.

“Not you.” you tear his hands from tugging on your wrists. “Of anyone in this damn frat house, not you, Kim Sunwoo. I want absolutely nothing to do with you.”

leave it to Sunwoo to look at you like the mad man he is.

the hot shot playboy of IST,

this was your sumptuous ex boyfriend.

your only ex boyfriend.

“— the last thing I want to see. Get away from me.”

his eyes roll and he pins you to the wall of his bedroom,

making sure to lock the door behind you.

“The last thing I want to see is my beloved ex girlfriend showing up half naked at one of my frat parties. But life’s unfair isn’t it?”

he elicits a pitiful snort and you dare yourself to retort back. “The thought never bothered you before when you begged me to be your damn side piece, once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time, you were mine. Let me make myself very clear, you were my girl. And right now, I don’t get that luxury— i’m not allowed to call you that.”

“If you’re looking for permission, you’re far from it. I’m not here for you, i’m here for Taeri.”

Sunwoo’s never liked that girl.

always trying to get you to wear the skankiest clothes.

present you like a centerpiece.

taking you whenever she wanted.

(she had her work cut for her)

when all he wanted was you all to himself.

“Trying to prove yourself by being hotter than her?”

you pry his body off of you,

heated.

absolutely heated you could explode.

“Trying to prove myself by not being a damn joke. Isn’t that what I was to you, once upon a time Kim Sunwoo? The reason you dropped me because I could never prove myself to be the girlfriend in Kim Sunwoo’s hot fucking life.”

his chest rises and falls as fast as his blood boils.

he always loved firing you up.

you were so hot, he couldn’t tell you why.

but he always wanted to strip you out of your oversized clothes and get you completely naked anyway.

the thrill of seeing you naked being a blessing in disguise.

right now,

you were already half way there.

“I loved you.”

“Loved me?” you laugh incredulously. “The sex was good but other than that, what can you say you loved about me? Other than lying to my face, nearly ripping out my hair, telling me your cock only belonged to me? But digging it inside other women like that didn’t matter at all.”

he’s taken by surprise.

that dirty mouth of yours.

he’s been needing a stress relief.

and suddenly, he’s not that stressed about any of his circumstances.

especially the ones he faces right now.

in fact, he’s more laxed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

“Still thinking about my cock, are you?”

“Yours and 5 others, baby. It stopped being all about—“

his lips crash against yours and the wall is suddenly your best friend.

so much for Taeri—

god, Kim Sunwoo was just so irresistible.

“You.” he growls into your lips while ripping off his shirt. “It’s always been all about you, hasn’t it?”

an arduous moan escapes your tethered lips,

melting in the hands of your inconceivable ex boyfriend.

“Im gonna make those 5 others look like training wheels, baby. I’m going to make sure you know who you belong to.”

it’s been 2 years.

you weren’t gonna wallow over your breakup with Sunwoo forever.

yes, you’ve slept with other people but damn.

other people will never be Kim Sunwoo.

“I won’t even have to beg for you to be my side piece when i’m finished with you.”

Taeri and Hyunjae were fine.

Taeri was upset but hey,

Hyunjae beat you to it anyway.

while Sunwoo’s beating into you,

Taeri stops to look at her ex, “Have you seen y/n? She said she was gonna come get me.”

Taeri’s never really liked Sunwoo for you either.

he was always possessive.

always center of fucking attention.

too big and mighty for her little know it all.

but god damn.

if there was anyone who made you happier than she’s ever seen you,

it was that poor unfortunate soul.

“She’s gonna eat him alive.” Taeri chuckles with her hand on her ex’s lap. “Poor thing, y/n’s balled up her anger for him for years. You think he’s gonna be okay?”

that was the thrill of you, you know.

always one step ahead of everyone else,

Sunwoo had to put a leash on you.

he was so tired of chasing,

“You’ve let go, Sunwoo.” you’re hyperventilating over his broad chest. “Where’s all that control you had now?”

you were gonna be the death of him.

he had to juggle loving you, paying the frat, his soccer career—

“I’m sorry.”

3 rounds later and Sunwoo’s spent.

ravishing in your beauty,

the yearning of something he didn’t think he needed in a long time.

you made him the happiest man alive once upon a time.

“I don’t deserve you.”

3 rounds later and you were convinced.

ravishing in his warmth and comfort—

you haven’t felt this content in a long time.

“You deserved all of me.”

you loved him.

god you loved him and you don’t know how to stop.

2 years later and he’s still the man you love.

“I loved your wide smile. I craved your touch. I wanted your attention every damn day and you deserved every minute of having me. I loved everything about you, Kim Sunwoo. But you made that decision to let me go a long time ago.”

he kisses the places your tears stain,

fingers shakily threading through your now long hair.

“I was tired of convincing myself all of that were true. Tell me, baby. What else did you love about me?”

you catch your breath, nose brushed against his.

“Your eyes. Your nose. Your dick.”

his throaty laugh fills your ears like music on christmas morning. “What else, baby?”

you lean in, humming against his cheek.

eyes shut in absolute bliss.

remembering the subtle scent of bergamot and sage that stained his skin.

“Your lips? The way they move when you kiss me. How they feel when you tell me you love me.”

his arms clasp around your hips.

high on your euphoria with you pressed against him like this.

the stars were in his favor tonight.

perfectly aligned in the sky when he finally tells you,

“I love you.”

you’re convinced he’s joking.

you have to convince yourself he was making you a joke.

but Sunwoo holds you like he’s gonna lose you.

afraid you were gonna let go.

“I’ll never deserve you but i’ll love you for the rest of my life if I have to in order to convince myself I do.”

“What do you love about me, Kim Sunwoo?”

the full moon is in your favor.

illuminating the room just enough to meet his colorful eyes.

just enough color to remember how he looked at you once upon a time.

“That you’ll be the only girl that I get to love in my entire life. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you, baby. Not even if the stars start crossing in the sky.”

you a side piece?

hardly.

no, Kim Sunwoo never left your side.

he was like an overbearing parasite,

only having to move elsewhere when he wanted to be on top.

or when he kneels in front of you to ask you to be his wife.

and to think he would’ve had to beg once upon a time.

@kyusunyu / @kpopinesss / @atinybitofau

[stefanmikaleson1864]

Every Version Of You

Jay Halstead X Reader 

Requested by anon 

When jays best friend who he always loved even before the rangers gets honorably discharged from the rangers and comes working beside him and mouse at the district he realizes how innocent romantically she is and why she wouldn’t ever be with someone while they were serving because that meant comments being made an he finds out she’s always been in love with him like he has been with her and turns to putty when she looks up At him after a case

A/N: I hope you like this ! I am so sorry that It’s taken a while to write it but I am working through my request. 

If you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work. 

Jay’s POV. 

Me and and Y/N have been best friends our entire lives. We went to the same school together and we really always kept to the side

.we never really had any other friends so it was always just us. Where one was the other one was as well. We also happened to live on the same block as each other. 

When things got rough at home we always had a spot where we would meet up together.

 A park down a couple blocks from each other. It was pretty run down and gross so no one ever went there which was good for us. 

It was our place and our safe haven. It’s where we could spend hours talking to each other or really say nothing at all.

 All i knew was when ever I was there with her I always felt safe. That everything was going to be okay. 

During one of our long talks there we talked about the future and what we wanted out of life. We both wanted. 

 We wanted to join the army and get out of town and serve a high purpose in life. 

To be able to help people in need to look back and know we made a difference. Not to mention when we left we would have hella benefits to set us up. It would mean we didn’t have to come back here. 

We would be able to start fresh out there and create a new life.

When we finally made it out of high school we graduated and right away we enlisted.

 We went to boot camp about a month later. Y/N was excited but I had more worried about her than myself. 

I know it’s what we wanted but  now that we were there I couldn’t help but feel scared.

 What if something happened to her. The thought of loosing her tore me up inside. I couldn’t loose someone else. 

Boot camp was rough. Both physically and mentally it was the hardest thing I had ever done. Y/n was feeling it to. But there were some good things that came along with it. 

We meant a lot of new people and became friends with them. Were really building our community.

 One person who really stuck with us was this quiet guy named Greg.We gave him the nick name mouse and he hated it but we didn’t care. 

The three of us were a trio and were always together. Mouse was the first person to call me out on my feelings for Y/N. I didn’t even realize it at first. 

That I was in love with her. He just flat out asked me one day because he was going to and I told  him no she was completely off limits. 

I never really thought about it before like that. Being in love with her because there is a different type of feelings that come along with that. 

But once I realized it I felt so different but a good different. 

Our time in the Military had come and gone and I was the first one to leave. My deployment ended first then Mouse.

 After 3 tours we finally decided we were done and hung up our hats. 

Y/N was right behind us after her 4th Y/n decided it was time to hang up the hat as well. When she came home I was able to get her a civilian job with us. She wasn’t ready to go out in the field. 

The trauma of war really did a number on her and she needed to be able to work a more stable position.

 She worked as a investigator for us. She really liked and she was such a huge part of the team. 

Right now we were all gathered around in the pen working on our next case. We had multiple murders out on the west side and we were worried about more violence coming out. 

We had exhausted all of our options and were left with really nothing. Expect one choice which was Mouse.

 He was selling bootleg cd’s and stolen goods. He also had a hard time adjusting and couldn’t hold down a proper job. 

“Come on we need something before there is more bloodshed out there” Hank said in a upset voice” 

“I think I may have something” I said sitting up 

Everyone looked at me with a confused look on their face. 

“Mouse he lived there his whole life I know him he knows something” I said 

“I don’t know if he would be the best help in his situation” Y/N said with a worried look on her face. 

“Why what happened” Kim asked. 

“He just had a hard time after we came home he never really adjusted” Y/N said. 

“I Know but I think he can handle this” I said

“Look if he’s un hinge it could do more damage than good” Kevin said 

“Look i trust him and I’ll watch out for him what ever happens is on me But I do think this is our best choice” I said 

“Let’s do it” Voight said 

Y/N looked at me a concerned voice so i reached over and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

I didn’t bother to tell him I was showing up because I know him and he would have ran off. I went alone incase he got scared and ran off. 

I made my way to him and like usual he wasn’t really even hiding what he was doing out that giant white van. I made my way over and banged on the back of the van. 

“Hey Mouse open up” I yelled. 

Slowly the door opened up and Mouse stuck his head and peaked around the door.. He looked scared like he was caught which I mean he was technically. 

“Hey Uh Jay what are you doing here” He asked in a worried voice. 

“Relax man I need a favor with something” I said laughing. 

‘Don’t say that out loud man what the hell is wrong with you” Mouse said. 

He grabbed my arm and drug me into the back of his van which is very alarming to most people. 

We got in and it was nothing but stolen goods and food wrappers. And my god that weed smel was horrible. 

We sat down in the two empty seats that was barely there. Mouse had to throw stuff around just for us to be able to sleep. 

“So man hey what’s going on” Mouse asked bouncing around. 

“Look man you gotta chill out you good” I asked placing my hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah Man I’m good what’s up” He said. 

“I need your help with a case I know you know about these murders happening” I said 

“Yeah But what’s that got to do with me” Mouse asked. 

“Look I need to see if you can figure anything out I know you know everyone here okay you can figure something out” I said 

“Yeah but If people figure out I’m helping you I can’t risk my business man” Mouse said.

“Man forget your business we got dead body okay innocent people are dying” I said. 

“Okay alright I guess I can think about it” Mouse said 

“Shut the hell up and let’s go and behave when we get there Y/N is already worried about you working this and I don’t want to worry her more or prove her right” I said. 

“Yeah yeah Y/N i heard she was working with you how is she doing if you know what I mean” Mouse said 

I looked at him with a confused and even a slightly annoyed face because he already knew what the situation was he was just instigating the issue.

“Y/n is fine and we work together and we are friends that’s it for that situation” I said 

“You know what I mean” Mouse said shoving his elbow in my arm and laughing. 

“Let’s go now” I said annoyed at him already. 

I got out of the van and headed back into my own car. Mouse was following right behind me and we left headed for the district. 

He was non stop talking the whole way and I tried my best to act like I was paying attention. 

The only thing i was thinking was Y/n probably was going to be right that he wasn’t ready for something like this and I was pushing it. 

If he blew up and this case blew up it means we loose our only chance to get a killer of the street and it means I loose my word that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. 

The car ride back felt long but I knew it wasn’t and I was nervous about him meeting the team and seeing Y/N again. I didn’t want him to blurt out some dumb stuff. 

When we got there we made our way in and I read him the riot act and pleaded with him to act like he had some kind of commonsense. 

“Hey man I got this stop worrying when have I ever done something dumb” Mouse said 

“We don’t have the time to run through that list” I said getting more mad. 

We made our way back into the bullpen and everyone was sitting at their desk looking at their computer. 

When we walked in they stopped what they were doing and looked up at us.  Y/N looked happy to see him but also had worry all over her eyes. It was subtle but I knew her for so long that I could read her. 

“Y/N my girl I missed you how you been baby” Mouse said loudly. 

“I’m good I missed you too” Y/N said smiling and walked over and hugged him. 

“ Hey everyone It’s nice to meet you all I promise to be on my best behavior” Mouse said 

Voight walked out and walked over to where Mouse was. 

“Listen I appreciate the help but if you fuck this up for us” Voight said 

“No sir I am here to help in anyway I can” Mouse said.

I think it was the first time he actually stiffened up and seemed kind of nervous. 

“Good so let’s get started then we don’t want to waste any time” Voight said. 

“We got 4 dead on our hand we think we have a prime suspect John Roberts he hussles out the west side but we can’t prove anything” Y/N said 

“What makes you think him” Mouse asked 

“All 4 people who were killed their phones pinged out his night club , we know he is a known seller and has a violent streak” Y/N said 

“So we need you to make a bid to be a seller for him and get him talking on a wire” Voight said. 

“Um yeah I know this guy he’s dangerous and ruthless he’s just not going to open up to me” Mouse said. 

“Look we know you got a rep in that area okay so you asking for this isn’t going to raise red flags” Jay said 

“Fine but no way am I going alone” Mouse said 

“Me and Jay can go were pose as customers in the club you know we got you” Y/N said 

“Y/N you haven’t been out in the field.” I said worried about her

“I’ll be fine don’t worry about me i can handle myself” Y/N said a little defensive. 

“Listen she says she’s fine I trust her it sounds like a good plan get it done” Voight said. 

I didn’t say anything and we all went back to our desk to get everything ready for tonight. After a couple of hours we were putting the final touches on the plan. 

Y/N went home and changed into something a little more appropriate for a club so no red flags would get raised. 

I was currently helping to bug mouse and I could tell he was nervous but he wouldn’t say anything. 

“Listen your good me and Y/N we got you like we always have before” I told him. 

“Yeah yeah your right” Mouse said. 

We finished up and headed out. Y/N was meeting us there. The car ride over was silent and we both had jitters. 

When we arrived there Y/N was sitting outside and she had on this purple sparkly dress. She was all dressed up. She really looked beautiful. 

I gave Mouse a squeeze on the shoulder and we headed out. 

“Hey come on it’s going to be okay” I said 

Mouse nodded and we walked over to Y/n.She looked up at us and smiled. 

“You go in and were head in a little bit after so we don’t look like were together you got this Greg It’s going to be okay” Y/N said 

“Yeah Thanks” Mouse said. 

He went and in we stayed behind and I looked over at Y/N and I could tell she was nervous to. 

“Hey there is no shame about being nervous It’s been a while sense you been out in the field but you got this I got you” I said 

“I know I’m okay I’m good really Let’s go inside i’m freezing” she said looking up at me and smiling. 

We walked in and grabbed a drink from the bar and headed to a table we where we could see mouse without being to noticed. 

“So how’s things been with you” Y/N asked 

“What do you mean” I asked

“I mean you haven’t been dating anyone sense Erin and we haven’t been able to talk in a while what’s going on” She asked. 

“Not much haven’t been in the mood to date sense she left” I said 

“Come on handsome guy like you it’s impossible to stay single for long” She said smiling. 

“I think I have someone in my mind but it would never go anywhere so i’m working on getting past that” I said honestly 

“Who do I know her” She asked 

“Uh yeah but don’t worry about it” I said 

“Okay fine sure be secretive or what ever” Y/n said taking a drink. 

“How we looking up there” I asked the team out there. 

‘Good mouse is being talkative but John has no clue were on to him. This might actually work” Kevin said. 

“It’s Mouse he always has a way with words” I said laughing. 

“Hey at least he talks to people” Y/N said 

“Damn Jay what did you do to her” Adam asked 

The conversation fell flat after that and I felt bad because I didn’t want to think I was pushing her out. 

Mouse was up there a while and he was doing okay so hopefully it was a sign we got everything we needed. 

After a little bit he headed down and we watched him leave. We again waited a few minutes before we also left. 

When we went outside Mouse was sitting in the back seat of the car and we walked over and got in. 

“Hey how did it go” I asked 

“Good I am now a seller a little bit see how it goes but we got our way in” Mouse said 

“OMG I told you that you could do this , we got a way in” Y/N said 

“Thanks Now let’s get the hell out of here” Mouse said 

“Alright let’s call it a night and we all meet in the morning” Voight said.

Mouse was a little quiet and I could tell he was nervous about this. But I knew it was all going to be worth it once we catched this son of a bitch. 

We drove off and I dropped Mouse off at his apartment. Me and Y/n left and it was quiet in the car after. 

I drove to her place and I parked the car and we both just sat there for a second before sitting in silence. 

She didn’t get out right away and I didn’t know what was wrong but I decided to break the silence. 

“Hey I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to ice you out or anything” I said 

She looked over at me and smiled. 

“It’s okay I just wanted to make sure everything was okay” She said. 

“Listen I need to be honest because if I can’t be honest with you then nothing else matters” I said. 

I could feel the anxiety building up inside of me and I needed to say it to her. Don’t ask me why now seemed like a good time.

 I guess after icing her out earlier maybe I thought I should tell her. 

“Hey so this girl I like I need to get over and move on from it’s you. I love you Y/n I have for a while and I haven’t been able to say because I know you feel about dating and being deployed so i didn’t say anything” I said.

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or change anything and I was scared” I said

“I uh” she said 

I could feel the anxiety bubbling up inside of me and I was worried that I just ruined my only good thing I had going on. 

She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze and she looked over and smiled at me. 

“I love you I really do and not just in a friendship type of way like romantic. But i’m scared because you are the only good thing I have but I have a lot going on mentally and I need time you know” She said 

“I want to keep working on being the most best version of myself but I do want this so if we could work slow and build up” Y/N said. 

I squeezed her hand back and looked over at her and smiled. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. 

“I love every version of you but I want you to be the best version you can possibly be and I will be here for you on the other side when ever your ready I am here so take as long as you need” I said 

“ I love you Jay Halstead and I can’t Imagine what I would do without you” She said 

“Well you never have to know” I said. 

“How about you come up and we watch the hockey game and beers” Y/N said 

“I would live that let’s go” I said. 

We got up and headed in. We watched the game and laid out on the couch together and nights like these are worth everything.

[randomfoggytiger]

Milagro In-Depth (Part II): Loneliness Is a Choice and Lamps Go Dark

We pick up where Part I left off (see post here)--

Scully stalks into the morgue, having left the church but not her unsettled feelings. Her expression mildly lifts seeing Mulder there waiting for her. 

Mulder sidles up, subdued and gentle, obviously having mulled over her earlier reproof in the office. “Hey, you weren’t joking about being late. I was about to start slicing and dicing myself.” 

He’s so caring that it melts Scully’s armor, bringing out her Starbuck guilt complex: “I’m sorry,” she offers. To her partner’s “Where were you?”, she responds “I was doing some research, and learning that I owe you an apology.” 

Intrigued but cautious, Mulder straightens his posture and purses his lips. “For what?”  

“The milagro charm,” Scully snips as she casts back on her experience, “you were right on its insignificance.” 

Mulder states, “No, I think I was wrong. I think it is very significant. I think it may be a communication from the killer.”  

She is initially frazzled that Mulder’s first response to her position-- especially in light of her “research”-- is a flat-out contradiction. Yet again, Mulder is sending the message-- accidentally-- that Scully’s ideas are always one step behind. But as he prattles on about his own research on psychic surgeons claiming to be “filled with the holy spirit” she is amused into complaisance.

Scully hands Mulder a metaphorical milagro charm of her own, giving weight to his ideas and debating them as intellectually and thoroughly as her tried and true science, expressing her repressed love in the only way he will accept.  

Mulder only has Padgett half-right-- "...most credible practitioners of psychic surgery believe themselves to be imbued with the Holy Spirit, that their hands become the miracle tools of God"-- since Padgett doesn’t dabble in his sorcery to benefit others, only to try to "heal" his own diseased heart; and Scully also has Padgett half-right in her rebuttal.

“Mulder, this--” she says, taking and brandishing the charm as a statement, “is nothing more than a tool used by a lovelorn Romeo who just happens to be your next-door neighbor.” 

Mulder’s pulled up short by this… and he’s not happy about the idea. “Who, the writer??”  

“Yes,” Scully replies distinctly, hiding her stress behind a forced smile, “my secret admirer, who claims to know the mysteries of my heart.” 

Mulder is completely blindsided but even more tender. “You’re kidding….” 

Her tearful emotions briefly break to the surface as Scully recounts, “No, I wish I were. He cornered me today and told me my life’s story. He was kind of frightening, actually.” She looks down, unused to personal admissions still connected to unprocessed emotions.  

Mulder flounders, flummoxed, shaking his head and stumbling for words. A Scully stripped from her defenses is a rare occurrence; and he is uncertain what to say. He retreats to safe ground: “Is… he… our killer?” 

“No,” Scully clarifies, “‘Frightening’ as in ‘too much information and intimate detail’.” As Mulder is left with no ground left to hop on, his partner turns away to delicately sneer at the wall-- “What kills you is his audacity” before she takes a deep, stabilizing breath.  

Dipping his head in solidarity, Mulder mulls over these new facts, toeing the line between empathizing with her shake-up and pretending not to notice how shaken Scully is. But he forms a resolution, raising his head with fire in his eyes and grim determination pulling at his mouth: “Did you get a name?” 

His little rulekeeping rebel responds: “No, but that shouldn’t be too hard to find out, should it?” She walks off to do her work, letting Mulder read her face and draw his conclusions directly from her indirect response.  

Scully knows her partner is on a vengeful hunt, giving him her unspoken blessing to do whatever he deems necessary. 

Mulder now becomes an active part of the story rather than someone who wove in and around Scully or who Scully, the main focus of Padgett’s (and the narrative through his eyes), wove herself around.  

He pulls out a lockpick set (proving everyone right on this poll about previous key or lockpick lore) and digs into his floor's mailbox. While swiping a letter, Mulder notices a pile of discarded newspapers, picking one up to pour over later for clues. In that hopelessly clueless way Mulder has, he's forced to snap out of his configurings by the harsh, cruel reality of his surroundings: needing to press an elevator button to make the door open. He makes a face, hits it, and waits. 

Two thoughts:

#1. Gaze, focus, and attention continue to play heavily in this episode: Mulder having only eyes for his work (in this case, the newspaper) to the exclusion of the world around him (“life on this planet”) is given center stage as he fumbles around the normal world like someone who wants to run through it in pursuit of the next glorious chase. 

#2. IMO, Mulder would love smart appliances and cool new innovations that cut down on minor daily decision-making (lacking the paranoia about technology and its advances as The Lone Gunmen do… or did); but they likely wouldn’t have liked him back since he’s already terrible with the conveniences he has in his “modern” world. 

Padgett pops in, needing the elevator, too; and Mulder feels busted as he palms the man’s stolen letter and uncollected newspaper. He and Hoodie face-off on the ride up before Mulder turns away, evoking the polite, unspoken social norm of “stop staring.” His neighbor doesn’t follow those codes, eyeing the paper and Mulder’s increasingly annoyed expression. 

“I’m sorry, I forgot your name,” Mulder fishes. 

“Padgett.”

“Padgett,” he fake smoozes, Rob Petrie dripping in disdain and moral superiority. 

“You’re a writer. Anything I’d know?”

Padgett is unfazed. “I don’t think so.” His story is not about Mulder-- an incidental second fiddle-- but about Scully, her motives and her heart. 

The second act concludes this scene by a slight repetition of before: Padgett encountering a character on the elevator, staring into their soul, and following them down the hallway like a shadow. At this point, his role is not as a "person" so much as a conduit, becoming lost in the liminal spaces between both worlds. It’s not until the third act when Padgett becomes a flesh and blood human being, realizing the futility of Naciamento’s madness and tearing his heart out in sacrifice. 

At his door, Padgett prods, “You’re an FBI agent. Working on anything interesting?” 

Mulder calls his bluff, becoming as obtrusive in his study as his neighbor is, purposefully trading meaningful looks. “A murder case.” 

His neighbor freezes, the rattle of his door loud in the silent hallway. To Mulder, he reveals that dichotomy of himself, the Naciamento side-- menace and meaning folded into one. “Anything I’d know?” 

Mulder’s deceptively monotoned “Possibly” isn't intended to fool. 

It’s very clear that Padgett views Mulder as a rival and a threat-- an intelligent suit who Scully buzzes around for attention while, in Padgett’s mind, bearing up, unrewarded, under neglect. 

Mulder slips into his apartment first, the door serving as the last word to these hallway interludes. The writer-- the avatar, the conduit, the theme, the symbol-- is acutely aware of this, running into his own apartment as well, hoping to beat the FBI agent in like it’s a kindergarten foot race. Mulder is the clear winner this round, upper-handing the situation by unsettling Padgett and toying with his interest; and his unconcerned confidence gives him that detached edge that allows him to drop conversations or topics at the toss of a dime, leaving the other person shortchanged and aware a second too late. 

This interaction sends Padgett into a jealous and desperate writing session that culminates with an explicit happy ending for himself and Scully, enviously hoping to rob his rival of the jewel that sits right under the other’s nose. He “directs” his FBI neighbor to listen through the vent system, deriding Mulder for his “Hegelian justification” with regards to breaking the Amendments, smug loathing pouring out of his eyes as he types out his own measure of control. 

The episode plays with free will as well as gaze and focus quite a bit: does Padgett direct Mulder to break those rules and listen? Or does he pin Mulder down in the elevator and write a piece so thoroughly correct about the other’s character that he can “predict” rather than direct what his actions will be? 

I believe Padgett is seeking control of his own life by controlling those around them; but this episode reveals that the only person he can fully control is Naciamento. Even further: his own creation reveals the truth to his creator: the writer was never in control-- the only truth his work created is something beyond himself, something that could not be bound by control; and that the unruly characters he tried so desperately to bind to a “greater” narrative whole were already free from his grip, and never wholly his to begin with (script here.) 

Philip Padgett writes his words into Scully’s head, flavoring them with sexual interest but still detailing a grain of truth: “She was flattered. His words had presented a pretty picture of herself, quite unlike the practiced mask of uprightness that mirrored back to her from the medical examiners and investigators and all the lawmen who dared no such utterances.” 

A key point is explored here: Scully pulls out the charm, a version of Padgett’s verbosity running through her own mind; but a colleague rushes by, and she drops it down out of focus in time with the writer’s “...she felt and involuntary blush; and rebuked herself for the girlish indulgence.”

Here, writer man believes his words have the power to sweep her off her feet and into his bed, two lonely souls finding love and wantonness in the company of only each other.

The camera pans back to Mulder from the on-high perspective of the vent, casting judgment and doom upon his rival (to no avail.) 

He is unaware, but suspicious, of Padgett’s unspoken intentions, finally ripping open his mail (after hours of completely silent observation) and noting “Mr. Popularity”' has no records of calls placed or received. Mulder is a lonely man himself; but his loneliness is consumed by the quest and banished by Scully’s company, however he allows himself to receive it. Padgett has no one; and choses to write a better life into existence for himself, stealing from someone else’s work.  

Collapsing back in exhaustion, Mulder contemplates his next move, this problem proving more sinister and desperate because of its subject’s stark isolationism. In his boredom, Mulder picks up the newspaper, opening it up and incidentally sending himself down a rabbit hole of clues. 

Scully arrives on the 4th floor, flustered, bewildered, intrigued, confused; but this time she pauses, hearing the click click click of Padgett’s typewriter as clearly as if she were right next to it. Typewriter clacking this loudly is unnatural; and Scully is torn between fleeing it and figuring out what it means. She is a woman of science; but all of Scully’s pragmatism is a defense against her own unscientific inclinations, a tendency to give too much credence to supernatural signs or simple gut feelings. It saved Kevin Kryder in Revelations, it saved her daughter in Emily, it guarded the girls in All Souls, and it will warn her in Orison.

Her investigator instincts win over, and she pays a visit to Room 44, unaware of how dark Padgett's intentions are. She couches her visit as a gift-return; but Padgett, delighted twofold-- that his plan is working but also that Scully is here to unwind his mind-- plainly asks her “Why?” 

Scully steels herself for his reaction-- and in reaction to his unabashed openness-- and replies, “Because I can’t return the gesture.”

Padgett lets the moment hang, playing on her kindness and natural sense of dutiful guilt; and it leaves her no choice but to further admit “I can’t.”

He, of course, misreads her denial as reluctance, not realizing that her heart has already been given;  and that Mulder has known this since at least Memento Mori (her journal describing then “That you should know my heart, look into it; finding there the memory and experience  that belong to you-- that are you….”) 

At Philip Padgett’s “You’re curious about me”, Scully huffs, struck and shaken again by his relentless dissection of her mind. There is less animal fear now as she acknowledges the truth with a slight nod; but it curdles in her gut, tears threatening to pool after her study of his Spartan apartment. She is aware that a man who has this much of nothing will be unwilling to give up what he now thinks of as his something.

But there is also pity. As Padgett’s intense investigative skills reflect Mulder’s empty personal life, so too does his apartment the howling chasm of Scully’s internal isolation-- the empty desert she retreated into after Emily’s death was an expansive emptiness, making room for the width of her loss and the intelligence of her and heart and mind. Padgett has only a desk, a lamp on the floor, and a bed; and the littleness of this life strike a chord-- though not the one he wrote to strike-- of commiseration at the emptiness of his existence and the flagrancy of his honesty. It’s a fear Scully has never admitted to, let alone lived brazenly.  

She asks about his books-- “Anything I’d know?”-- echoing Mulder’s own question.

“No. They’re all failures. Except the one I’m working on now,” Padgett triumphs. 

Scully draws back from his intensity, though she continues to question. “Why now all of a sudden?” 

Padgett unfurls his thinking, possibly even how he obtained his abilities: “Best not to question it.” 

She understands this, living that motto daily with her partner; and looks down to cover her own vulnerability. 

“See? You are curious about me.”

Denial kicks in: “Well, you lead a curious life.” 

Padgett puts his foot in the metaphorical door: “It’s not so different from yours, I imagine.” And that is all he can do: imagine, and try to unite his life with someone else who, he thinks, will understand him better than he does himself, the description of a writer he gives Scully a scene later. 

His point is accurate; and Scully allows it to sink deeper even as she quickly puts up her defensive, sarcastic guard. He breaks it back down it a pointed, “Lonely.” 

Padgett’s words sear at her wound, twisting a knife into her heart; but she manages to answer a measured “Loneliness is a choice” by rapidly blinking back tears and swallowing down her pain.  

At Padgett’s “So how about a cup of coffee?”, her eyes flash defensively; but she is drawn in by his prepossessing honesty and transparency, wanting it for herself. Perhaps if she had some for herself, perhaps if she were more forthright-- a litany of “perhapses" as maddening as Padgett’s elusive self-discovery. 

What I find interesting is the idea that this is Padgett’s Never Again and Scully is his Ed Jerse. He is unable to understand his heart or motives, the truth behind his actions; and she is alluring and broken-hearted and fearing that love will never be returned to her equally. The unbalanced nature of The Quest is her divorce court and her assurance and self-reflection is his ouroboros. 

Separated by a wall, the two agents do their own reading. Mulder has done his homework, doubling back for the rest of the neglected newspapers once he’d found a love dedication that Padgett had circled; and Scully takes a peek at Padgett's unfinished manuscript, pondering over the last sentence “How will it end?”   

Clutching the coffee cup Padgett gave her, she bows before it in confession: “My life’s not so lonely…. It’s actually anything but.”  

Padgett again hears (looks) but doesn't listen (see.)

Her questions become more pointed: “How is it you think you know so much about me?”; and to his “I’m writing about you”, she gets sick of the staring game, pointedly sticking her neck out. 

“Since when?”  

“Since I first noticed you. You live in my old neighborhood.” 

“And you moved into this building by coincidence?” 

“No.”

“You moved here because of me.” 

“There wasn’t anything available at your building. And it’s not like you spent a lot of time at home.” 

Scully is confused-- she is wired to be drawn to people that listen, truly listen, to what she has to say and notice her and her interests so closely; but she is continually reminded that Padgett is an obsessed, sick man. But the adage “physician, heal thyself” easily follows that thought; and it’s easier to run away than to dwell on them.

Padgett stumbles over her horror. “I, I should have said something; but I just couldn’t get it all down fast enough. To really write someone I have to be in their head, I have to know them more completely than they know themselves.” 

What strikes Scully is how “Mulder” that is-- getting into someone’s head and crossing lines and boundaries, asking for forgiveness rather than permission. The difference, she knows, is that her partner uses those gifts in extreme circumstances and for the ultimate good whereas this man is completely self-serving and egotistical in his mixture of self-abasing hubris. 

“This is all about me?” 

“Well, you’re an important part.” 

“May I read it?” 

When her request is denied, Scully shrinks down, pulling her shoulders up. She knows what that means: there is something in his manuscript to hide, or something that might color her against him more than she already is. Her hand shakes slightly at his “Would you sit and stay a minute?”; but she rallies in caustic suspicion (“You don’t have anywhere to sit.”) 

Padgett lures her to his room-- a completely different apartment setting than her experience had been with Ed Jerse or even Mulder this entire episode-- shutting down her warning and excuse (“I’m due next door”) with a page out of her own logical book (“You haven’t finished your coffee.”) 

Scully, left with no subtlety, cuts through her own reticence.  “I’m very uncomfortable with this.” 

“Why? You’re armed, aren’t you?” 

The light won’t turn on, something Padgett hadn’t written or anticipated. “Imagine that.” He opens the curtains further, pinning them up against the wall before pressing past (and up against) a dazed Scully who seems to be wavering, either under the spell of his words or her own dizzying indecision.

Again her pity chord is struck with Padgett’s view-- a brick wall, so different from the view one door down. Scully gives in, drawn to the powerful and unexplained (ex. Luther Lee Boggs and Clyde Bruckman and Alfred Fellig): “If you know me so well, then why am I standing here when my instincts tell me to go?” 

“Motive is never easy. Sometimes it occurs to one only later.” 

She chastises herself, disappointed with his answer and her own foolish question. At the repeated invitation, Scully almost leaves, but sits down anyway. When the light bulb burns out once again, she is startled, but Padgett is alarmed then resigned in awe (“Imagine that.”)  

They sit, waiting; and Padgett turns, knowing the precipitous moment is arriving-- but when Scully still sits, seemingly unmoved, he leans forward, shocked and hoping a change in position will end any indecision. 

It's then that Mulder busts through the apartment door.

He immediately puts up his gun at Scully’s “Mulder” but evades further questions after having confirmation she’s alright. He zips over to the typewriter and throws around the pages until he finds an incriminating one, delicately hands it to his partner and pushing Padgett against the wall to arrest him. 

Scully, startled, doesn’t attempt to stop him; and stares, horrified, at the words "warm, beating heart" staring right back at her.

Part III coming sometime soon.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[swearyshera]

You have no idea how hands-shaking, looking-down-off-a-cliff scared I was to scroll down when Catra began to say sorry and got cut off. I had to take almost a full minute to brace myself cuz I was so afraid Glimmer would do the thing so many other protags have done where they just accept the apology for the sake of expediency or compassion or their own regrets or to focus on moving forward. Or to excuse away the apologizers actions as not their own because of manipulation or emotion. I've been waiting since Day One for this hoping it wouldn't be like those, especially considered canon didnt even attempt it and that left my love for this series feeling like it was missing a piece.

I could never expected it go this hard. Glimmer's grief and guilt and cold rage feels so tangible, and the sheer strength it feels like it took to both acknowledge and honestly deliver those feelings to Catra with no sugarcoating while not full-on attacking her with them and driving a wedge into the only refuge either of them have from Prime breaks my heart. Acknowledging Catra feels sorry but telling her flat out no apology or atonement could heal this, so if she feels sorry thats her own damn problem. A perfect interstice of emotional fortitude and frailty. I could never have dreamt of a moment this great.

Glimmer was always my fave in canon but this catapulted her into the fucking celestial firmament. The catharsis I'm feeling right now makes me feel like I could jump the goddamned moon. This moment alone is my favorite exploration of grief and forgiveness ive seen in a fandom like this since ATLA's The Southern Raiders. I cant wait to see your spin on the rest of this arc if its even a fraction this good. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this and for this project. Thank you.

This was such a hard scene to write. I'd had some ideas written down for this scene for quite a while, and we almost got a scene where they discussed what they would say to Adora instead, but I thought it would perhaps be more impactful to tackle the subject of Angella head on.

I'm not completely oblivious to the fact that many people wished Glimmer and Catra had approached the topic of what happened to Angella in canon. And again, I'd never say that this blog is a 'fix-it' for the stuff people didn't like, but sometimes there's stuff that I wish had been in the show - this was one of those things.

But knowing I wanted to put in a scene and actually writing it are two different things. I was so nervous when this one went out, because I worried that people would react negatively to it (but you didn't, thanks everyone!). You're right that having Glimmer go "Oh, sure, don't worry about it" would have felt hollow and really undercut the whole 'Angella is dead' thing. But equally, if Glimmer had said "Sorry isn't enough, I hate you and will never forgive you", it would have been hard to reconcile that level of sheer hatred with them working together later on.

I chose Glimmer's words quite carefully here. I wanted to show that her opting to take her mother's actions as one of heroic sacrifice rather than a desperate last-ditch attempt to save Etheria from Catra's mistake was for her own benefit, not Catra's. Glimmer makes that choice to discard Catra's part in it every day because that's the only way she can manage her grief (especially when face-to-face with Catra), not because she wants Catra to feel better. And that rejection of the apology was not so much a "Your apology means nothing" as it was "Don't try and complicate the way I'm dealing with this." Sorry means she has to reconcile that Catra feels guilt. Sorry upsets her grieving process. She doesn't want it.

I'm so excited for everyone to see the rest of this arc, particularly how things develop through Corridors. We'll soon be seeing Horde Prime step up his manipulation of Catra's depression, and more about how that is affecting her and driving her to desperation. But we also get those bittersweet flashbacks, the reminders that Adora has always been on her side - even when they've been on opposing sides of a war. And finally, the climax of the episode where Catra saves Glimmer, and (at least here) leaves Adora with some chilling words. I always feel like I become a better writer with every episode, and I am so proud of some of the stuff you're about to see.

[thefirstknife]

i love how lightfalls story will continue in Deep and the rest of the year and it's a great move

ut god i WISH they had that idea for Witch Queen. I NEED to know how the Lucent Hive are developing, there's so much we don't know, andi would love to see how they're developing on like a cultural level.

My biggest disappointment with Witch Queen year is that after the dlc & risen the Lucent Brood are basically treated as regular hive that we can kill with no problem's and like nothing is exploring them anymore

I know its not the case but it felt like Bungie was building to this like:

"Are the Hive brutal and reprehensible to us? Yes. Will they change their behavior with the Light? No. Do they still deserve to be treated as sentient ppl with Intrinsic 'humanity' even tho they arent as sympathetic like the Fallen or Cabal? Yes. Does that make them good guys? Do we have the right to kill Ghosts just because they made the crime of "choosing the wrong side" etc etc

And like make us realize everything is more gray. and make us ask questions about assumptions we had, are Ghosts allowed Autonomy? Do.we have an inherent deserving of the light etc

and then Bungie dropped it in a bin and never brought it up ever again not even in flavor text or lore tabs

Agreed 100%

Witch Queen was an absolute banger of a campaign that I consider pretty much flawless, but when it comes to the whole year of Destiny last year, a lot of it ended up falling flat. There are so many interesting things raised in the campaign, but they were never explored. It didn't truly feel like "Witch Queen year" since pretty much all most significant bits of the Witch Queen were not explored.

Most importantly the Lucent Hive. Even in Risen, they were kind of background. They were literally attacking Earth directly and killing Guardians, but outside of getting rid of a few pockets of them, they've not been mentioned outside of that? Are they still attacking Earth? Do they still try to get a fort on the Moon? Are they only listening to Immaru or are there other aspects of their leadership? What about Lucent Hive who decide to go their own way? We know they exist so what's up with them?

What about Immaru and Savathun in general? We've not tried capturing him or investigating more into what Savathun knew, how she constructed the Throne World, how she utilised Light, her connections to the Witness and the Fleet... Obviously this might get picked up when she's rezed again, but I feel like a lot of it would've been important in the aftermath of the campaign. We got minor tidbits when Osiris woke up, but that just raised more questions; Savathun knew some WILD shit and we never investigated it.

We'll see how this continuation of Lightfall's story will go next season. I'm hoping for a quest that deals with some of the aftermath of the campaign and gives us insight into how time progresses in-universe; have the characters learned anything new in the past three months? Osiris will be present so we might get some new insight into Strand or the Veil or the portal the Witness opened.

Obviously, that's best case scenario. We have no clue what the quest will be like and I don't want to overhype myself and expect some incredibly long mission with 4 lore books, but the general gist of adding more campaign content throughout the year is really good. In hindsight, I would've loved if we got that each year. Campaigns are fine as is to me, but adding more content throughout the year that's directly connected to the campaign (instead of seasons) would've been a real benefit to pretty much every year so far. I really like the idea of the expansion YEAR dealing with the expansion reveals and information for the whole year in a more direct way that isn't tied to seasons.

[honeesblog]

The difficulty of proper academic comportment, dress, and relationships

As a female academic I am held to a very different standard to male academics in regards to physical appearance and this has only become more true as I've gone from undergrad to graduate student. At this point, I have to essentially dress for a job interview all the time, which luckily is quite natural for me as I've always preferred business casual clothes but moreover makeup and a splash of perfume and jewelry have also become staples. This is further complicated by the fact I don't have a full length mirror in my room, so dressing has become more difficult. Furthermore, as my goal is to become a professor, I need to think of my appearance and comportment in a very pragmatic way so as to further my chances. 

    I recently read an Economist article titled ' The Economics of Thinness' and it very poignantly made the case that being thinner, especially for women, raises employment outcomes and pay. I have always been on the larger side, never obese or even seeming as big as I really am. I swam competitively and I still lift weights and play several sports and at 5ft 8, my weight is quite well distributed. Most people would guess I weight 160-170lbs just on the edge of a healthy BMI but I in fact am 200lbs, well within the overweight BMI category. Since starting my PhD I've lost some weight and gained quite a bit of muscle from thrice weekly lifting sessions to deal with the stress alongside skipping breakfasts and sometimes lunches due to being busy but either way I'm larger than is economically ideal. Since I've lost weight I've noticed a social shift as well. Another great article is by Alana Massey titled 'You're Right, I Didn't Eat That' where she discusses the social benefits of thinness and her own need to maintain her thinness. She examines her own behaviour as half pragmatism and half pathology, making clear that it is not effortless, as I think so many of us assume when we see other women with prominent clavicles and flat stomachs. I feel I'm also in the same semi-pathological state occasionally, I need to go to the gym or get 10 000 steps but I don't need breakfast other than a coffee and splash of milk. Again, I'm not that thin yet but I'm working my way towards it, not because I hate my body or have self esteem issues (although I'd be lying if I said that those don't also factor in) but because I love what I do and I want to do it for a living. If I need to never eat breakfast again for my field I'd do it in a heartbeat. It doesn't help that I'm quite a competitive person and have been trying to get back into swimming again as I have free access to my university pool... Another issue is clothes, makeup, and jewelry. I've been updating all of these things as I want to seem sophisticated and intelligent as well as attractive. This Christmas I'm treating myself to some very nice jewelry and lipsticks, which are extremely expensive, and I keep a collection of perfume samples. Eventually I should buy a full size perfume of my choosing as I actually wear perfume most days now but it is all so very expensive!!! Same thing with clothes, I either need to take clothes in or buy new clothes as I've lost weight but its quite expensive for a student!

Dating is another aspect of my life which is important but frustrating. I would like to be married and have a child before my mid 30s. I have a long time sure but due to my commitment to my career and studies I've never been in a committed relationship. Even now that I'm actively looking to date, I get overwhelmed by my nerves and emotions and basically decide that dating is not worth the hassle due to fear. Academia also complicates the idea of having a partner as I will go all over the world for my job and whoever I'm with should support that and be willing to help and while a lot of women will do that for their men, the same can't be said for most men. 

Anyways, in all of these things I think I'm headed down the right roads I just need to keep to the course and commit myself to them. I'm planning on starting swimming 4-5 times a week once I get off break so hopefully that will work out. 

Thanks for reading x. 

Hon.E

[trans-lykanthropie]

Support Networks

In which Ada tries her hand at writing to work out some emotions

***

It's a lovely opportunity for some social time with friends, even with the slight feeling of self-consciousness that comes with knowing it's for your benefit. Years of going through it alone wears you down, and in order to start healing you've got to rely on others to see you through it, and try to free yourself of the guilt of asking to be looked after for a night.

It's nice to see the little flat so busy, quite a few have turned up and are already chatting in little groups or hanging up coats and kicking off shoes. So much positive energy in a small space is contagious, and I can't help but feel my anxiety fading. The first time was a little quieter, and the nerves beforehand were almost worse than that before the actual full moon, but over time I've learned to look forward to it.

The early evening slips by, with dinner as a group and then some quick board games or finding space on the sofa for a chat. It'd be easy to lose track of time, were it not for that nebulous 'feeling' encroaching on me from the back of my mind, despite trying to keep busy and cheerful. It's impossible to describe: a mixture of unease, a muffled fear, and a frantic kind of desperation, and a bit like trying to hold yourself together emotionally whilst at work.

It doesn't happen like in films or books. There's no feral rage or snarling pain or thrashing around on the floor. It's much more like being disorientated and overwhelmed in a busy public place, when you just need to find an exit or a sheltered, quiet corner. Something in my gut always tells me to hide away when I get the feeling like I've got a golf ball in my throat, a kind of instinctive humiliation and shame about what's coming, despite being told repeatedly that that kind of thinking is ridiculous. I usually slip off to my room, trying to catch hold of short shallow breaths, steadying myself against the wall as the blood thunders in my ears. It's a kind of vertigo, you can't help but feel the tears welling up and running down your cheeks, a panicked numbness in your extremities like pins and needles, and a terrified nausea.

But that's why my friends are here, to help even when I feel like I don't deserve it or I'm too ashamed to ask for it. Someone finds me and tries to hold me steady, it's hard to see who exactly through blurred vision. There's that vertigo again, but the floor sliding away from under you isn't part of the panic, that's from the change in height. You can't cry per se, it's more of a gasping whining howl as sensations plug into your head so fast you can't cope with all of them sharpening and heightening at once. Sounds, smells, and instincts flash through your head like a match held to a line of gunpowder. There are jolts of anger, but the kind that comes when you really don't understand what's happening, more of a frenzied frustration than rage. That's the mental shift, the point where you're most erratic. After all you're like a cornered animal, just one caught in your own biological trap.

At some point I ended up gripping tightly onto whoever came to calm me down. They're now noticeably smaller, and caught in the vice-like grip of a seven and a half foot werewolf. I just hold on for dear life, dizzy and nauseous, breathing deeply, their reassuring talk reaching me as if coming simultaneously from across a wide ocean and from a loudspeaker pressed up against my ear. It's not followed by a loss of control to bestial impulses like you read about in gothic novels. It's a sudden surge of energy coupled with an increased impulsiveness, the urge to act on every half-formed idea that flitters through your head. You hold onto enough to know that the people there are your friends and are there to help you, but you won't remember why until the following dawn. Until then, you can rely on them to keep an eye on you.

After all.....you've been told you're great fun to be around like this.

[thelesbianpoirot]

There are a lot of people who mock Taylor Swift because they don't like her music and she's a rich apolitical white woman so she's fair game to them and that is whatever. I don't like her music myself. Her fandom base is largely female, but she does not have the huge gay male backing big a female star usually has. That intrigued me because gay men love massive female pop stars.

However, there is a vocal section of men, straight and gay, that mock Taylor Swift. I learned it was because she isn't sexy to them. A lot of people who find her sexy are lesbians. She doesn't make sexually explicit degrading music which is usually what you need to be an uber popular woman in today's music market. So the female icons gay men of today flock to are all hot women showing their tits and ass.

once a post that got popular that said people need to leave lesbian women who are apart of the slash shipping industrial complex alone, because it doesn't mean attraction to these characters, it is just a dumb male centered hobby, and It compared it to how gay men love sexy starlets. It's why homophobic Nicki Minaj will always have a more loyal young gay following than Taylor Swift. Everyone on the post kept saying all lesbian shippers are actually bisexual. They couldn't fathom why women would be doing the woman hobby, identifying and engaging with male characters if they weren't sexually attracted to them.

Yet no one questioned the sexuality of gay men obsessed with the sexual appeal of female popstars. They can't just be talented, they have to be sexy. And so many gay dudes commented some version of "of course we wouldn't like her, she's flat, sexy as cardboard, etc misogynistic insults." So many gay men are mad when Billie Eilish wears baggy clothes and doesn't have her tits out. Why are you as a man invested a sexy woman if you're not attracted to her? Can it be you identified with these women growing up and still as a man you benefit on some level from the sexual exploitation of women in media. It can be a completely neutral and (or a negative thing) devoid of sexual attraction for you. The same thing with straight men, they idolize big strong masculine men in media or athletes, to the point of hero worship, collecting merch excessively, demanding that every male character be a muscular beast in the live action adaptations, posters on their walls, obsessive curating their online life about them. Get mad when even hot female characters take the limelight away from their male favorites. Are all these men bi or gay? You wouldn't think that.

So how about we apply this to lesbians? While tumblr is filled with openly faux lesbians (bi and straight up straight women dating men) there is a concerted effort to always question a woman's word, and believe everything a man says. Do we think lesbians raised in male dominated society are born inoculated against male worship/centeredness, even if it's not sexual. Straight men aren't. Do you believe lesbians are inherently born with a feminist mindset, and there aren't male worshiping lesbians out there. That there are certain hobbies that make a woman a lesbian, and some that disqualify her? There are some lesbians getting surgery to have a faux dick attached to her person, without ever wanting to ever be sexual with a real deal dick. it's clear that we are just as vulnerable to male hero worship as anyone born in this patriarchal society, and sometimes it manifests in the most womanly of ways, slash shipping.

Slayerlez was right. I miss her.

[thatbanditqueen]

i’m obsessed w all ur fics but i gotta ask…

are u planning on midge and ep making up some way in the next chapter or are u thinking ab dragging it out? (also wanted to let u know i reread the only sure thing probably once a week lmaooo)

So I'm writing chapter 8 right now and...... they are going to be colliding into each other at the end. Followed by three very very very smutty chapters. This and the last chapter where they are not together have been the HARDEST for me to write because I have the smut headcanons for the next chapters rebounding around in my mind grapes and I just want to get there already and I want the build up to be good but I have discovered this about myself as a writer. I'm not great at slow burn or storylines that don't lead to somewhat immediate smut..... lol.... maybe I'm off, but my favorite chapters of Only Sure Thing are 2 through 6..... I did like writing the scene in 7 where Elvis walks in on Midge writing fake fan letters for the Colonel.... but some of that chapter felt flat trying to accomplish more exposition and where i see them going... idk i am an aggressively hard on myself person, but i guess I think my favorite thing to write is pre-smut verbal foreplay which is hard to do if characters are broken up... so, this was a really long way to answer your question. The short answer is yes, and I'm sorry because I'm still learning how to write stories but I see ch 9 and 10 being.... um.... fun....

Once a week? My love.... im so fucking honored to hear you say that because I am really fond of these characters and I reread it everytime I write a new chapter, but I also want to rewrite it, especially some of the clunky paragraphs early on where I feel like I was over explaining Elvis' bio.... I might one day....

This is something I'm struggling with so I'm curious to know what you think... I don't want them to make up totally until March 1961 bc Elvis is going to convince Midge to go to Hawaii with him and he's leaving like the day after they reunite. But I also don't think it's realistic that he wouldn't try to see her every chance he can and try to wear her resolve down... I'm having him bombard her with telegrams and phone calls, and sort of explaining how he's off filming two movies and doing benefits and events in Nashville and Memphis as the reason he doesn't see her for six months... but I feel like I need to write ONE "look let me prove I can be just friends" scene from Midge's pov, where E shows up at her place unexpectedly because he's super impulsive and hyperfixated..... and he wants to use any excuse to get her alone and bring her back to his house ... uh... ok apparently this post became part of my writing process...

Thanks for reading and supporting my own hyperfixation. Im always down to chat about them. I really hope the fan community doesn't dissolve bf I finish these stories....I know I'm moving at a snail's pace..

xoxo

norAHHHH

The Only Sure Thing forthcoming in the next few days Ch 8 vibes...

[unpopularly-opinionated]

Finished the One Piece Live Action and overall I'd give it an 8/10. Most of the actors are great at portraying their roles, and despite a few small (and two not so small) criticisms I had with the show, overall it still felt like One Piece, albeit a different version of it.

I sincerely hope they do a season two, despite my criticisms. I think they could easily do the Alabasta arc, even in just eight episodes, though I'd hope for more.

Logue Town

Reverse Mountain / Crocus / Laboon

Whiskey Peak

& 5. Skip Little Garden and go straight to Drum Island

6. , 7., & 8. Alabasta

Would be so awesome if they did that.

Spoilers below where I go in-depth about my criticisms, mainly for my own benefit.

Starting with the biggest criticism I had, I think it was genuinely a mistake for them to cut the Don Krieg fight because of how it really makes both Sanji deciding to join the crew, and Nami's iconic "Luffy, help me" scene kind of fall flat.

It messes up Sanji joining the crew because, without it there's really no reason for Sanji to even consider joining his crew. At that point, Luffy was just this random wannabe pirate captain who had been forced into becoming a dishwasher for the Baratie, and whose crew consisted of a half-dead swordsman, a liar, and a thief who betrayed them. Not to mention, said-wannabe pirate captain just had his ass handed to him and was looking to presumably get his ass handed to him again by the same guy while presumably going after a woman who stated clearly that she wanted nothing to do with them anymore. What about that screams: "Ah yes, I should quit my sure thing of a life and job to go hangout with these all-powerful, super intelligent, upstanding people!"

It also just sort of lessens the Nami moment later on because at that point she has no reason to even hope Luffy can beat Arlong, and literally every reason to believe he can't given that she'd literally just seen him lose to Arlong at the Baratie. Instead of it being an inspiration of hope at her lowest point, it became this pathetic last-ditch effort to beg for help from someone who she has every reason to believe can't help her.

This isn't to say that scene wasn't done well, for what it's worth. I thought Nami did a good job of recreating the scene pretty well honestly. It was just the setup to that moment that I had an issue with.

Beyond that, I had an issue with Sanji overall, but this is again connected to the fact that they cut the Don Krieg fight. Honestly, while I thought the Syrup Village was easily more enjoyable in live action than it was in the anime, I really wish they'd cut that arc down to just one episode and given Baratie the time it deserved to be what it needed to be. I know they had a lot to cram into just 8 episodes, but I really don't think they did the best of jobs deciding what was worth keeping and what was worth tossing.

Of course, I have to assume this was mainly due to budget and effects, hence why they also decided to cut out easily the best character in Arlong Park (probably hard to depict an 6-armed octopusman), Hatchan, who I would argue is far more important as a comedic relief character than one might expect, but I digress. His role in Arlong Park really helps relieve some of the tension, reminding everyone that this is supposed to be a goofy pirate show and not always some ultra serious, depressing drama series.

Other than all that, the show was great I thought. You really have to open your mind a bit and not be such a stickler to the source material, as I often find myself being. I really hope they do a season two though. I can see it being somewhat feasible for them to do an Alabasta Saga next. 1 ep for Logue Town, 1 for Reverse Mountain/Crocus, 1 for Whiskey Peak, skip Little Garden since ultimately it's not super important and just have Nami get sick some other way, 2 eps for Drum Island, and then I think Alabasta itself probably deserves 3 episodes so we can maybe see at least a couple of the fights.

I'd love to see Zoro solo the Millions, and especially his fight against Mr. 1 since I think that's a pivotal power-scaling moment for him when he cuts steel for the first time. Of course, you can't have Alabasta without Bon Clay, so seeing him and Sanji fight would be good. And then obviously, Luffy vs. Crocodile. I'm not sure where Nami, Usopp and Chopper would fit in, since I'm trying to think of how you'd keep this budget-friendly, and having them all fight their actual opponents I think would just be too much (especially Usopp & Chopper vs. Ms. Merry Christmas & Mr. 4).

[nedlittle]

genuine question: what is wrong with the peyton beachdeath lma trans thread? I know…too much about peyton himself so we don’t need to revisit that, but i’d love to see you rip into some shoddy scholarship and ways to (mis)understand historical queerness

oh god...

i mean aside from people taking the word of a notorious clout-chasing liar and conspiracy theorist at face value...peyton just doesn't understand or even really care about history when it does not directly benefit him. full disclosure i have not read the thread since it was first posted but it is burned into my memory unfortunately, i also don't know a lot about lma as a historical figure

aside from cherry picking quotes from lma's diaries there were no actual sources. nothing from her biographers, no secondary scholarship at all. it was just peyton presenting quotes purposefully stripped of their context in order to further a point that he wanted to be right.

this should be like. queer history for pre-schoolers but people in the past who were or may have been queer understood themselves and their queerness differently than people do today. peyton is incapable of looking at queerness outside of his very specific 21st century lens. could louisa may alcott have been a trans man? possibly! could she have also been cis and/or gnc? sure! could she have simply been writing in both her private and personal lives about how suffocating the experience of being a woman in the 19th century was? yeah. we have no way of knowing which of this could be true, and whether they overlapped at all. queer history exists in shades of possibility. in some cases (and we're going to use trans men contemporary to lma), like those of albert cashier and charley pankhurst, we can pretty definitely say that they were both men; that being a man was essential to their continued survival, that they would have wanted to be remembered as men. in other cases, it's more slippery because the taxonomy we use nowadays to classify ourselves and especially our differentiation of gender identity vs sexual acts is SO recent that it does a disservice to classify all historical queerness with it.

it's insane that there are MULTIPLE notable 19th century trans men in american history at the time lma was living and he still was like no this is not good enough for me i can only emotionally relate to something if i can force my own image onto it. that's really the problem here, not the shoddy history and the deliberately misleading language, but the fact that peyton is seemingly incapable of enjoying or relating to a piece of media or a person if he cannot find a direct comparison to his own life. he did the same oh "(x) was 100% absolutely a trans man if you tell me wrong you're transphobic" thing with katharine hepburn (iirc??) a few years back and this is a personal gripe but having read a 600+ page bio of hepburn that was very generous to several queer readings of her life: lol. lmao even. his insistence of flatting the experience of anyone with a moderately fucky gender into "you're either Like Me or your not" is so purposefully stupid.

like, do all the trans readings of little women you want! i myself made a deranged little women trans post a few weeks ago. but lma isn't a fictional character who you can apply different literary lenses to! she was a real human person whose relationship with her gender we will never fully understand because we were not there. at some point you just have to accept that it is not your business. why are you so desperate for any shred of historical representation that you are willing to exhume the dead in order to out them?

peyton relates to jo march, so he insists that reading jo as a trans man is the only (morally) correct reading. he likes little women but has to make it fit the public view of transness that he is made his personal brand. i actually followed him for longer than i'd care to admit, and it's a trend with any piece of media that he is publicly into that he has to make a character a trans man in order to relate to them.

he also has this deranged idea that any author writing with emotional depth about the """opposite sex""" must have been trans. see the article he wrote for the niche about how must have been a trans man because he gave dido's emotions and the collapse of her marriage to aeneas the same "dignified treatment as any sprawling, epic battlefield scenes." [direct quote] the article is literally called " vergil had a pussy and i'll prove it." no further comment.

one of his "proofs" is that lma was called "lou" by her family, which he then proceeds to call her for the rest of the thread. lou is....a very normal nickname for louisa both now and then. you know what else was a 19th century nickname for louisa? wheezy. imagine that same thread but he calls her wheezy alcott. thank you, good day.

[lutawolf]

Dear Queen Luta!

You are not alone fighting with idiots on twitter and other sites....I'm so tired of fighting those who are so ready to kink shame or bash Payu and Rain.

Some say they can't find any D/s elements in PayuRain (apparently they seem to think that BDSM only has chains, whips, and dungeons). Some say the imbalance in the beginning is because of Payu being a senior and that it becomes equal by ep 5 and ep 6 (...so no D/s). Some say by ep 6, it was Rain dominating and that if Payu is a Dom, he sucks at being one because apparently Rain had him submitting in their ep 6 sex scene (invalidating Payu as a Dom....ugh...that one really got to me, she called Payu a wimp cuz apparently he is not strong enough to be a Dom for her 😡).

Some say that because Payu does not punish Rain and is more into pampering Rain towards the last part, he was never into D/s and that whatever was in the beginning is SA as he was abusing his power as a senior over Rain. Some are so focused on verbal consent consent CONSENT that I feel like ripping my hair out trying to tell them that its fiction - there is no need to be so hung up on certain points, that things like body language and non-verbal consent also exists, he never hurt Rain or actually crossed lines, and trying to counter every single accusation cuz I really loved and resonate with Payu/Rain dynamics.....Ik that the story is not perfect and not everyone will like it... it has its own flaws...but seeing some people simply throw pure hate just to throw hate is so so irritating..some don't even know what they are talking about....MDL comment section is also full of idiots like that. urgh.

I'm so frustrated seeing all these these things compiled and sometimes I just feel like smacking them through the screen. And verbal fighting them is so tiring!!! I think I would do better throwing hands. I even run out of words to properly explain sometimes cuz I get that irritated.

Huff....sorry for ranting like this....I just couldn't hold back. I really should stay away from these platforms. 😫

-A frustrated sub Anon who just wants to grumble and complain.

Hey frustrated sub nonnie,

The kink shame is real. I'm really having to remind myself of my rules, which is not to engage and know my own truth. Generally speaking, I feel like discussion of art is important to Civilization and Government. Even if it gets impassioned because we're using thinking skills and making points. Learning about people's thoughts and those effects. Even if we don't agree, there is growth in debates. Did you know that 20% of the younger generation that participate in art debates will end up volunteering. More likely to vote. More likely to stand against an oppressive government.

When I get mad is when we try to oppress art, dictate the expression of art. Because then we are taking away the very benefits that I mentioned above. Do we truly want to live in a society where someone else does the thinking for us and tells us what to do? Where is the consent in that? That's exactly where we are headed with this cancel culture bullshit though.

I get the frustration, that's when I run here and tell my truth. I'm not going to reach the flat earth people and there is no point in trying. The people who don't believe in the proof that you show them, because they want to believe what they believe. But I reach the people who are just learning and that's what matters in the long run.

Wishing you a less frustrating day. 💜💜💜

[my-mt-heart]

There is a lot of conversation about Norman Reedus and the Daryl show happening exclusively within my inbox and I want to take a beat to explain why I haven’t posted any of it. Yes, I am not, have ever been, nor ever will be okay with spreading hate about cast and crew who put their blood, sweat, and tears into delivering something for us to enjoy. Some of you are going to call me a bad feminist or accuse me of not holding men accountable for their actions/behavior and I can’t stop you. Your feelings are yours to have wherever they stem from. If I may be so bold to suggest, some people might be stuck on those initial rumors that came out which I said then and maintain now don’t accurately reflect how the industry works. Others might be disappointed in Norman’s lack of sentiment during his interview and activity on Twitter. Again, feel how you want to feel. My feeling? My wholehearted belief is that directing it at an individual man doesn’t address the issue. 

To make it abundantly clear, I am also not accusing AMC of being a misogynist entity that consciously screws over and muzzles women. But I am upset that an emotionally-driven show spearheaded by a highly talented woman of color and starring a female icon was turned into what I suspect is a more “thrilling” mission-oriented project that neither woman could/felt they could be a part of and now cannot talk about. I am frustrated that I was strung along to believe I was getting the show of my dreams (because they flat out told me I was) when in fact the concept Angela Kang, Norman, and Melissa originally envisioned, the one that honors both Daryl’s and Carol’s emotional journeys, had changed a long time ago in favor of a plot that will effectively secure a largely male audience. And attaching a male showrunner is only going to make it even more male-driven. So yes, as a Caryl fan, as a female fan, and as a fan of story integrity, I am voicing my dissatisfaction which has nothing to do with Norman’s, Melissa’s, or Angela’s choices for themselves. I don’t expect it because our “selfish” noise conveniently takes the heat off the network, but I wish it could be acknowledged that “hey, you’ve been waiting a long time for a show you were never going to get and I understand why that hurts, but thank you for caring so much about the characters/relationship we also care about.”  

In all fairness to Norman, the lack of support being shown for the new spinoff sucks from his perspective and probably comes across as if we only value Daryl as half a ship. Not that I think he’d ever read this, but I want to still stress that is not the case at all, at least not for me. As a “loner” myself who’s struggled to belong, I relate to Daryl a lot and I’ve enjoyed every part of his story so far. My problem, my fear I should say, is that another long heroic mission by himself feels like backpedaling on an emotional level. We’ve seen the psychological torment that’s caused, we’ve seen the darkness that’s cast over him, and I don’t want to see it anymore. Especially not after all the effort from Kang (and narratively from Carol) to help him overcome it. Carol has similarly struggled with feelings of isolation, most recently from her best friend, which is why (to the anon that asked), I’d have just as hard a time watching a solo Carol spinoff. 

Kang has asserted that while Daryl and Carol are survivors on their own, they are better together. They’ve always been an integral part of each other’s stories and an integral part of each other’s happiness, and losing that element is just unsettling. It undermines everything we’ve seen Kang build up to. I’m fully aware business reasons can impact a story, but that doesn’t always mean I can give it the benefit of the doubt. I would love it if all my concerns turned out to be unfounded, that somehow it’ll still work emotionally. Right now, I just don’t feel assured and I don’t want to be strung along more than I already have been. For what it’s worth, it also would’ve taken me a while to come to terms with the concept of Daryl and Carol embarking on a mission together in France as opposed to the road show. 

Some of you may have picked up on the fact that I have been very distraught the last couple of days. Listen. When I first created my blog, I only ever wanted a place to share my thoughts about my favorite show and my favorite characters. I didn’t expect to develop this deeply personal relationship with them, but somehow I did, and as if it isn’t bad enough to think my viewing experience was a lie, seeing all these signs of resentment toward Carylers and Caryl just utterly devastates me. It’s as if I’m being rejected by the show I love. 

The industry thrives on money, not a fan base, one said today. Respectfully, I don’t see how those things are mutually exclusive. Without a fan base there is no money to be made. You can cut your losses with one part of it and try to appeal more to another, but ultimately I don’t think the Caryl fanbase of all things is that expendable, otherwise they wouldn’t bother trying to exploit us so often. 

I’m sure you all have varying reasons to be part of WAAC. Me personally, I want Carylers to have a positive presence in the larger TWD community, at least in the eyes of the people who give us the show. I want our perspective on the characters and the show to hold value (literally) and be appreciated if not validated, which is why I am strongly encouraging our next blitz (the date and time of which are in the email I sent out, so please be sure to check), to focus on our love for Caryl, the actors who play them, and the showrunner who wrote them beautifully rather than the circumstances surrounding the movement. If we do that, we can’t be accused of reacting selfishly or disregarding Melissa’s wellbeing. We already know neither of those things are our intention, but it’d be great if they could see that too.