#otp: a soul that steels my own

[galedekarios]

Though let's keep his existence between ourselves for now.

[assortedfruitsnacks212]

I've heard you ship Bileven and have reasons for it. I'll admit, I'm curious to hear you explain why!

(in other words please take this as the opportunity to ramble a ship manifesto because the thematic connection between the two makes me think your explanation would be intruiging)

(main of @mike-wheeler-faggotry)

Thank you so much for this ask. It means a lot for someone to be curious for once instead of rushing to judgment.

I'm not even sure where to start. Billy and El have been my OTP for two years now, and they mean a great deal to me. Their relationship is about a broken young man learning to be soft again; an autistic-coded (!) girl growing up and claiming her place as a woman; two conflicted human beings meeting each other and saying, "Hey, you're like me! I thought I was the only one."

In a word, it's soulmate stuff. And to me it's beautiful.

I don't know what else to say that I haven't expressed better in my fics. So I'll share a scene I wrote two years ago. It's probably the closest I've come to writing a manifesto.

The setup: in 1989, Billy visits Hawkins after three years in California. El is eighteen now, no longer a child, and it scares him to death. After a novel's worth of tension, denial, and conflict, he agrees to meet her at Sattler's Quarry one night. Arriving early, he spends some time smoking and reflecting in his car.

--

He tries not to act nervous, but as time passes, he keeps checking his watch. 10:05. 10:10. He reminds himself she’s walking here and he needs to cut her some slack. At one point he pretends to be pissed—if she doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’m outta here—but he knows it’s bullshit. He’d wait here all night for her.

As he waits, he thinks about the quarry around him. How, years ago, he came here at his darkest point. Somehow though, being here doesn’t feel like being at the mall. The memory doesn’t burn, because the moment he said no to death was the moment he turned his life around.

And god, did he need to turn his life around. 

He shuts his eyes, dragging on his cigarette, as he remembers who he used to be. How, in his rage and pain, he destroyed everything around him. 

Fuck, he thinks, scoffing. He doesn’t want to imagine what he would’ve done if he had superpowers. He probably would’ve become a supervillain, holding the world hostage with his pain.

In a way, he almost did. The Mind Flayer gave him superstrength, a burning energy that took away human weaknesses like the need to eat and sleep. It made him the general of his army and told him to conquer the world. 

Sure, he hadn’t asked for it. Getting dragged into that steel mill was the most terrifying moment in his life, worse than anything his dad had ever done. But it was his pain that put him on the road outside the steel mill that night. His pain that led him to set up a rendezvous with a middle-aged married woman. He wanted to thumb his nose at the rules of the world. 

You can’t control me. My body is my own, and I’ll do what I want with it. 

The world’s lucky El’s the one with superpowers, and on her own merits at that. She didn’t need to make a deal with the devil. She was just… herself. And standing on her own merits, she had the strength to meet Billy blow for blow. Even when her superpowers faltered and he could use brute force to pin her to the ground, she had the strength to defeat him. All it took was a few whispered words and a gentle touch.

After that, he learned an entirely new definition of terror. This girl with the brown eyes, who wore blue spangled shirts and scrunchies? 

She’d seen everything. 

One touch in the Void, and his innermost soul had flashed out, crossing the space between them like lightning. She’d seen everything—his mother, the ocean—the memories he’d locked in a dusty drawer and forgotten. And now, every time she looked at him, the second skin he’d spent years perfecting faded to nothing. She could see the monster beneath, the twisted, ugly thing that even a mother couldn’t love. 

And she didn’t have the kindness to turn away. She kept looking.

Even worse, she didn’t run. It made no sense. Somehow, this girl had the strength to stay where his own mother hadn’t. It stole the breath from his lungs, and he found himself looking back at her, at the promise in her eyes. 

Then his world started to tremble. Glancing down, he saw a crack zigzagging across the ground, racing toward him from where she stood. 

Don’t do this, he’d begged her, glancing up. Don’t give me hope. Because it would be taken away. That, at least, was inevitable. Everyone who loved him left eventually. They looked long enough to see the ugly, broken thing inside him, then turned their backs.

His own mother had done it. His mother.

But El didn’t listen to him. She kept looking. And as the crack raced toward him, exposing the naked rock beneath, he turned and ran. If he didn’t, he would die. The earth would split open, and he’d fall into a darkness he could never crawl out of.

He ran for a long time. Three years he ran, until he thought he’d managed to escape. Then Max invited him back to Hawkins, and he fooled himself into believing El couldn’t possibly be looking still. So he came back. 

And just like that, he was standing in the same spot he’d fled from. She was standing across from him, taller and more beautiful, but with those same, all-seeing eyes. And the crack was racing toward him again, splitting the earth apart. Except this time it wasn’t the only crack. Others were streaking toward him from his right, his left. 

In the intervening years, her powers had only grown. And he knew immediately he’d made a fatal mistake.

So he ran again. But it was too late. Is too late. He can feel the earth giving way beneath his feet, seconds away from swallowing him for good.

As he smokes quietly, the breath of his cigarette wafting away through the open window, his forehead wrinkles. He glances in the direction of the nearby cliff. He imagines falling to his death. And suddenly he wonders if that’s such a bad thing.

He remembers Sunday mornings in mass. His mother hadn’t taken him often; despite her fervent belief, she seemed to find a thousand excuses not to go. But he remembers how she would stand beside him, sometimes holding his hand, sometimes resting her hands on the pew in front of them. He remembers hearing about death and resurrection, concepts that confused him at the time. And he remembers the day he finally asked her about them. They’d just gotten home from mass, and she took him outside to look at a bush. He can’t remember what kind it was now, but it smelled good.

“Just look at the world, Billy,” she’d told him. “Do you see this plant? It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She had him bend down to smell it. “And do you see the roots, how they’re going down into the soil? Well, believe it or not, this plant is only beautiful and alive because other things have died.”

He must’ve wrinkled his nose, because she laughed. “Really! Everything that grows, and I mean everything, needs nutrients to survive. This plant gets its nutrients from the soil. And this soil has all those nutrients because other plants, and animals, even people, have given their bodies to it. 

“Imagine—” her eyes sparkled “—a dead animal. You know what happens when an animal dies, right? It rots. Gross, I know. But that’s because it’s breaking down into its component parts, and those parts are trickling back into the soil. It’s giving itself back to the earth. If it didn’t do that, the earth wouldn’t have the nutrients it needs to grow new things. Eventually it’d run out and everything would die.

“But you know what’s amazing? Those nutrients never change. The stuff that’s in you—” she tapped a gentle finger on his chest “—and me—” she pointed to herself “—is the exact same stuff that’ll go back in the soil when we die. And that’s the stuff the earth will use to grow new things. Do you know what that means, Billy?”

Enraptured, Billy shook his head eagerly. She leaned forward. Her eyes were blue and bright.

“It means when you die, your body will turn into something new. It could be a plant like this one. Or maybe,” she gasped, “a tree. Wouldn’t it be beautiful to become a tree?”

He nodded.

“Well, that’s what resurrection is. It’s the idea that when something dies, it becomes something new. Death,” she said firmly, “is never the end. The cycle keeps going forever and ever.

“Do you understand now?”

He nodded again, and he meant it. She smiled brilliantly. Pulling him close, she kissed his cheek with a smack.

“Always remember that, Billy,” she said. “Death is never the end. And that’s what makes life worth it.”

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

FNAF Security Breach: Daycare Attendant Terradrop & Bonbon (2022)

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

Credit for FNAF Series goes to Scott Cawthon

Credit for FNAF Security Breach goes to Steel Wool Studios

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

I just made the finishing touches on this drawing today, I kind of ended up procrastinating with finishing this, I started drawing it on October 4th and didn’t really get around to finishing it until today...

Terradrop is a FNAFSB OC and is suppose to be a New Daycare Attendant and is program to act as a Nurse and tend to children whenever they get hurt or if in some very rare cases if a mother is pregnant and is about to have a baby, she is program to take the mother-to-be to the maternity ward that is a few floors away from the daycare.

Terry’s “hair” is suppose to be clouds but they could be some kind of fluff that is suppose to look like clouds.

I guess she could be her own animatronic that is separated from Moony and Sunny, but maybe she could be another split personality of the two that was programed into their shared body when Sunny/Moony had to have a update and maintenance done on them, and someone made Terradrop’s A.I. and placed it into their shared body.....so I guess Terry could be seen as those two’s “Baby Sister”.....the first drawing I did of her, well technically it would be the second....that one with the grumpy look on their face is the Beta version.

when I was first trying to draw Terradrop around October 4th of this year, the stupid computer did a restart on me, I was really peeved off when that happen.

there could be Terradrop Candies, but they could work slightly differently than the Sundrop and Moondrop Candies, like the Terradrop Candies are suppose to be in different flavors like spicy, sweet, sour and there could be different bags of the Terradrop Candies that will have either “Spicy”, “Sweet” or “Sour” on them...like a red bag will say Spicy Terradrop Candy, a pink bag will say Sweet Terradrop Candy and the lime color bag will say Sour Terradrop Candy.

Terradrop has a light blue (right) and light green (left) eyes.

 maybe I will write a short story about Terradrop sometime, I can post it over at the place that starts with a “Q” and when I feel ready to, I can post it over here.

I mean if I do decide to write a short story that has to do with Terradrop, I guess I can see about it later or whenever I am able to.

I guess if some wanted to draw Terradrop, I would be okay with it so long as I am given the proper credit.

don’t know if there will be many who would be interested in drawing her, so it’s fine if no one wants to, plus I can try to draw her again whenever I can find the time to draw her, I don’t feel like drawing her at the moment but I will when I can.

is it weird to OTP ship Sunny x Monty, why is it that they look really cute together...? seriously, those two should stop looking so cute together, they are gonna make me OTP Ship them. XD

anyway hope some of you like this drawing of Terradrop and Bonbon.

my theory about Bonbon, is that they might have Millie’s Soul in them, you know that human girl from one of the books of FNAF...I couldn’t help but have that thought pop into my head, that if it were true, Bonbon might not remember about being a girl named Millie in a past life when they were human.

also maybe if I do get around to drawing Terry again, I can try to make a new outfit for them and it could be slightly different from them one they have on in this drawing that has hearts and the colors being blue and green.

might keep the blue and green colors for Terradrop...                         

[lovetornnatasha]

ok natasha for the character thing and also anatole bc im genuinely curious to see what five good traits you'd find for him

Natasha

do I like them: *goes by her name* *is in my user* *able to write essays on her* *wap character I've drawn the most* *my icon*... i think i do

5 good qualities: 1) SHES THE SWEETEST 2) she's very very sweet 3) best songs in great comet 4) all the parts she appears on make me so happy 5) autistic

3 bad qualities: 1) *sighs* she's a brat, i love her but she's a brat 2) too easy to manipulate, like goddamn. 3) BRAT

favourite episode/etc: in comet; the ball and no one else, in w&p; her first ball and in both; after she meets Anatole and the opera

otp: MARYNAT

brotp: her and Sonya are best friends 4 ever i love them (she apologizes after telling her she hated her trust me!!)

ot3: again, comet/comet modern au specific but when she dates Mary but is also in a qpp with Pierre but Pierre and Mary are not involved with eachother (that happens in my au and i like it)

notp: andretasha;;; her and Anatole;;;;;;;

best quote: “Oh, if only he would come quicker! I am so afraid it will never be! And, worst of all, I am growing old—that’s the thing! There won’t then be in me what there is now. But perhaps he’ll come today, will come immediately. Perhaps he has come and is sitting in the drawing room. Perhaps he came yesterday and I have forgotten it.” and "we were angels once? don't you remember? joy and life inside our souls and nobody knows just you and me" from no one else

head canon: she really likes astronomy and people (Sonya, her mom, Pierre, Mary) read to her about it :]]

Anatole

do I like them: nggggghhhhhhghffffffkdkkkkkkknnnnhggggghhhhh not really but i sometimes i like HIS CHARACTER.

5 good qualities: why are you making me do this. 1) he's pretty, he's a pretty boy in the whole sense of the word, a pretty thing, pretty. 2) his character is, alright, i like the way he's written in both wap and comet 3) LUCAS STEELE. YOUVE SAID IT A HUNDRED TIMES A HUNDRED TIMES ILL AGREE. Lucas did so good i love reading about the way he played him 4) he's stupid and pretty at the same time 5) his songs on comet are pretty good? he does gets his own but i love his performance there, his lines and body language

3 bad qualities: 1) FUMCKING DUMB. 2) takes advantage of people. 3) not forgiving him over the Natasha thing.

favourite episode/etc: in w&p, im not very into it yet X2 but when they're at the party at his place in book one he's fun; comet is definitely the ball and preparations and the abduction and the duel and

otp: don't. make me. say it.

brotp: Hélène and Him were so good at being pretty

ot3: none tbh

notp: kuragincest (DISGUSTING) Him and Pierre (GROSS) and him and Natasha (FUCKING WEIRD)

best quote: "it doesn't matter, i don't give a damn! just as a duck is made to swim in water god has made me as i am, all i care for is gaiety and women and there's no dishonor in that, as long as there's money and vodka ill keep a feather in my hat"

head canon: NPD haver....

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Sharp Edges

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~4880

Warnings: BDSM. Pain play and impact play (hands only, no tools) and discussion of sadism/masochism. The working title for this was “Reluctant Sadist Sam.” Memories of a time Sam pushed the limits of a previously negotiated BDSM scene. Very brief non-explicit masturbation. No actual sex, but it’s very sexy... or at least I think it is? 

A/N: This pairing just, like, snuck up and made itself my OTP when I wasn’t looking, and I’m kinda obsessed with it. Big thanks to @mskathywriteswords for a super helpful edit, to @stunudo for an early read and characterization cheerleading (plus this whole Spencer Reid Thing, which is pretty much her fault), and to @fookinghelljensensthighs, for a brainstorming sesh about crucial jizz-related plot questions. 

Sam hesitates outside the door for longer than he wants to admit. He’s been thinking about this for years, now. It’s not like there’s any doubt left in his mind, but stepping through that door makes it real. Until he steps through that door, he can brush this off; he only acted on the impulses when he didn’t have a soul, right? They’re not his. Not really. 

They are. He knows it. 

Years of wondering, guilt, self-loathing. Months of research, asking around, making connections. Weeks since he got the invitation, weeks of nervous anticipation and doubt. Fuck if he’s backing out now, even if he does feel like he’s choking. 

He wipes sweaty palms on his jeans and goes inside. 

He’s not expecting Lindsey to remember him, but she does, and she greets him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. She’s wearing knee-high boots and a corset that shoves her cleavage up toward her chin, and Sam feels underdressed in his plain black t-shirt, not to mention painfully inexperienced. 

“Want a soda or anything?” she asks brightly, like she’s the head of the PTA instead of the dungeon mistress. “Need me to show you around?” 

“No, thanks,” Sam says, tucking his hair behind his ears nervously. “I think… I think I might just want to hang back for a bit.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, whatever you need.” 

Sam’s good at hiding his fear; he’s practically made a career of it. He puts on his most confident mask and starts walking. 

He’s not really sure where to look, at first. His immediate instinct is to avert his eyes. There’s a startling amount of skin on display, but more importantly, there are scenes being played out all around him that are straight out of Sam’s fantasies - the dark, secret ones - the ones he couldn’t admit to, for most of his life. 

It took losing his soul to ask for what he really wanted. 

The memories from that time, back when something important was missing, are tinted red and foggy. He was selfish, when he didn’t have a soul. It’s the one thing he’s always vowed not to be. 

He met a girl in a bar, somewhere in Colorado, and he took her to whatever grimy motel he was calling home that night. When he asked, she giggled, giving him some stupid line about needing to be punished, but when she realized he didn’t just mean a couple light smacks on the ass, she asked him to stop. He shrugged, fucked her anyway, and told her to leave. 

The next night, he found a professional, and he made sure they negotiated the price before he took her back to the motel. Even then… Sam feels a twist of guilt when he remembers the moment her moans became whimpers of pain,  the look of apprehension in her eyes when she realized she might be in over her head. She never used her safeword, but he knew she wasn’t comfortable with it.

He’d made it up to her, of course, afterward, even before he paid her, but it wasn’t out of any selfless desire to see his partner enjoy herself. It was just ego, just another game. The predator in him just wanted to see if he could make her beg for more after she’d begged him to stop. 

When Sam got his soul back, there was a laundry list of foggy red memories that made him feel slimy and sick with shame, but that little vignette was one of the worst. 

Sam doesn’t want it to be like that. He doesn’t want to be that brutal, selfish person who got what he needed, no matter the cost. 

He wants romance: dinner and a movie, flowers, shy first kisses. He wants those things, but he’s starting to realize that he needs more. He needs that sharp edge of pain with his pleasure. He knows, logically, that there are people out there who need to feel it, in the same way he needs to cause it. It’s a matter of finding the right puzzle piece, is all. 

All around him, now, he hears people asking for more, yes, harder, and there’s a sweet, breathless relief coursing through him. He pauses in front of a couple, watching the dom unclip his partner’s leather cuffs from where she’s chained to a ring in the wall. She’s smiling as he murmurs something Sam can’t hear. 

“Please,” she says, beaming up at her partner with this incredible blissed-out expression on her face. 

Sam’s stomach swoops with such an intense longing that it’s almost painful. He looks away. 

He wants that. 

Sam glances around the room again, and his eyes catch on a man who looks like he should be in a college lecture hall, instead of a BDSM party. The guy sticks out like a sore thumb in this sea of black and red and leather; Sam can’t help but notice him, and once he notices, it’s hard to tear his gaze away. He’s wearing a sweater-vest and a tie, for fuck’s sake. He’s got a mop of long, messy hair that makes Sam want to tug.   

The longer Sam looks, the more he notices the sharp edges. The guy is tall and twig-thin, gangly, all elbows and angles. The line of his jaw looks like it was cut with a razor. 

It’s not just the shape of him, though, that’s making Sam think of glinting steel and the rasp of a whetstone. The guy is on his own, hanging back in the same way Sam is, observing… his eyes dart around the room, glancing back and forth, taking it all in with a bright, clear, whip-smart awareness. He’s not smiling, and there’s nothing about his body language that’s welcoming. If someone handled him the wrong way, he’d slice them open.

Sam’s hands twitch. He wants to fit his fingers to the angle of those bones, thumb along the underside of the jaw, index finger running up to the cheekbone. He imagines it would be a perfect fit. 

Sam shivers and looks away. 

He sneaks a glance again, a few seconds later. The guy’s looking right at him. Sam’s stomach flips. He smiles hesitantly, and gets a blatant assessment in return, an appraising up-and-down. Sam feels like he’s passed some sort of test when the guy starts walking toward him, weaving easily through the crowd. 

He stops abruptly when he’s in front of Sam, and Sam feels off-balance, somehow. 

“I’m Spencer,” he says, in a soft scratchy voice that makes Sam want to lean in to hear better. 

“Sam.” He sticks out his hand. 

Spencer doesn’t take it; he waves instead, an awkward little gesture that’s oddly goofy and endearing, even with the frown line creasing his forehead and the shrewd expression on his face. 

“You’re the new guy Lindsey was telling me about.” He tilts his head, almost birdlike as he blinks and waits. 

“I… guess so? Why would she…” 

“I assumed she meant new here, but you’re new to all of it, aren’t you?” It’s not a question. 

Sharp, Sam thinks again, flustered. He shrugs. 

Spencer’s eyes flick over his face like he’s reading lines of text. There’s something closed-off about the way he’s holding himself, tension in his features, mistrustful or maybe defensive. 

Spencer licks his lips as he thinks, and Sam stares at his mouth. His mouth isn’t all points and angles like the rest of him; it’s plush and pink, wide, expressive. 

“Hey, Professor,” says a woman, brushing a hand down Spencer’s arm as she passes, and Spencer gives her a quirk of his lips that’s not quite a smile. 

“Are you really a professor?” Sam asks. 

“No. It’s just because of the way I dress.” He says it matter-of-factly, but Sam notices the way his eyes drop for a second. He’s self-conscious. 

“I can’t picture you in leather pants,” Sam says wryly. 

“But you’re trying, aren’t you?” Spencer asks, with a flicker of an amused, mischievous smile. It’s gone just as quick as it came, but it leaves Sam feeling warm and pleased. He already wants to see that smile again. 

“I think I missed the memo about the uniform,” he admits. 

Spencer glances around and says, “I can see how adhering to a certain set of aesthetic cues would help members of a subculture identify each other in everyday life, but it does seem unnecessary here. Something about dressing up just to meet expectations seems disingenuous.” 

“You’re really not a professor?” Sam asks, almost unbearably curious. 

“No.” Spencer hesitates. “To answer your earlier question, Lindsey told me to keep an eye out for you because she seemed to think we were here for… similar reasons.” 

“Oh,” Sam manages. He feels hot and cold and panicky, and he wishes he’d gotten a drink, if only to have something to do with his hands. “You, um. You like…” 

“Pain,” Spencer says crisply, with an almost clinical detachment. “I enjoy experiencing pain. And you enjoy inflicting it.” 

“Yeah,” Sam says, mouth dry. 

Spencer’s watching him closely, frowning again. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.” 

“I… yeah,” Sam says. “I guess I know that? Just, um, I always thought of myself as pretty traditional. Not big on one night stands, I like… relationships.”

“And you don’t think people who are into BDSM can have traditional relationships?” Spencer asks, smirking slightly. 

Foot, meet mouth. 

“No, not like that, I just - if I’m into someone, I want to treat them right. I’m a romantic.” 

“A beating can be very romantic,” Spencer deadpans. 

Sam sputters out a laugh. “I - I guess. Sure.” 

“So, what, you’ve always been about the Al Green and missionary, and you figured you’d try something new?” His voice is dry and amused, and he’s watching Sam, just waiting for a reaction to the needling. 

“Not exactly,” Sam says, grimacing. 

“What, exactly, then?” 

Sam can’t remember the last time anyone made him feel like this, like the conversation is a fencing match that he’s losing spectacularly; Spencer disarmed him already and is still toying with him, landing one glancing blow after another, just to see if he can. 

Sam stammers for a second before saying, “I’ve always been interested in this, I just - never had an opportunity, really.” 

“Don’t lie. You don’t have any reason to be embarrassed,” Spencer says, frowning. 

Sam sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. He forces himself to spit out the truth: “I always wanted to think of myself as a nice guy. The things I want… there’s nothing nice about what I want, when it comes to sex. I couldn’t admit that until recently.”

Spencer smiles, and his whole face is incandescent with it. He tamps down the wattage of the smile with a twitch of his lips, eyes darting around as he thinks. Sam gets the feeling he already knew the answer, and was just waiting to see whether Sam would admit it. 

“It’s not always about sex,” Spencer offers. “Sometimes you just… want to get out of your head, you know?” 

Sam considers that for a moment, and he looks at Spencer, watching his fingers as they tap a silent rhythm against the side of his leg. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks, and he’s proud of himself for how steady his voice sounds. 

“Maybe.” Spencer meets his gaze evenly. “But you’re very strong, very inexperienced, and very anxious, and that’s not usually a good combination in someone who gets off on being in charge.” 

Sam bristles instinctively before he hears the question in it. 

“That’s not - it’s not like that,” he says with a sigh. “It’s not a power trip thing. It’s not about overpowering someone, I don’t want to tie you up, I don’t - it’s not like that. And I’m not inexperienced.” 

Spencer’s eyes narrow. “You said -” 

“I’m new to this,” Sam interrupts, and gestures around them at the party. “I’m not new to… pain.” 

For the first time, there’s a hint of curiosity in Spencer’s eyes, an inkling that he doesn’t have Sam quite as figured out as he’d thought. 

“Why are you here, then? What do you want to get out of this?” Spencer asks. 

Sam thinks about that, trying not to fidget as he figures out how to say it. 

“I don’t want it to be just about… what I get out of it,” Sam says slowly. “I want someone who - who needs it the same way I do, so that it’s not… I don’t want it to be something I do to someone, I want to do this with someone.”  He hesitates and adds, “With you. If you want.” 

He can see Spencer analyzing him, analyzing his words, weighing the odds, calculating the risks. 

“I’m not going to have sex with you. Not tonight,” Spencer says coolly. “You can touch yourself, but I’m not going to touch you.” 

Sam shrugs. “Okay.” 

“No tools, no toys, no restraints, not the first time.” His voice is dispassionate, matter-of-fact, like he’s reading out a grocery list. “Just your hands. You can scratch, but don’t draw blood.” 

“Okay,” Sam says. He’s glad Spencer said it before he had to admit he wasn’t confident enough, yet, to use a flogger on a stranger. His voice cracks. “Safeword?” 

“Lateral orbitofrontal cortex.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes, I’m aware that it’s three words.” 

It startles a laugh out of Sam. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Spencer’s mouth twitches as he suppresses a smile. “Seriously. But I only say ‘stop’ if I really mean it.” 

“I understand. If I didn’t get the joke, would you have called this whole thing off?”

Spencer’s lips twitch again. He just shrugs. “Anything else we need to talk about?” 

“After?” Sam asks. “What can I - how do I help, afterward?” 

Spencer pauses, a strange expression flickering over his face for a moment before he says, “Don’t leave?” 

It sounds like a question. Sam doesn’t think it was supposed to sound like a question. 

“Of course. Is that all?” 

Spencer shrugs. “That’s all. Just. Stay, for a minute. I’ll tell you, if there’s anything else I need. That’s the only thing I… can’t always bring myself to ask for, in the moment.” 

He gives Sam a very practiced, casual sort of smile, nonchalant, blinking up at him innocently as if to say I’m fine! See? 

The protector in Sam is snarling. He just nods calmly. 

“What about you?” Spencer asks. 

Sam frowns, taken aback by that. It didn’t occur to him that he might need to be taken care of. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Is that okay?”  

“Yes. That’s okay,” Spencer says. This time his little half-smile is sweet and genuine. 

Sam looks around nervously. “Is there anywhere more private? This isn’t really...” 

“Agreed,” Spencer says. “There’s an open door policy, I’m sure Lindsey explained, but there are other rooms where there won’t be a crowd.” 

He leads Sam through the living room, heading up a flight of stairs and down a hallway. Sam catches glimpses of scenes through three open doors before they reach the last room. It’s small, some sort of office, he thinks, lit dimly enough to feel comfortable. There’s no bed, just a loveseat, an end table, and a desk with an office chair, but the desk holds an assortment of toys, chains, and condoms instead of a computer. 

It’s quieter, here. It feels warmer, too, but that might just be Sam’s nerves kicking in. He glances at the open door instinctively as Spencer starts to loosen his tie. 

Spencer notices, of course. “There’s an understanding, with the regulars, that this is where you go if you don’t really want an audience.” 

Sam nods and turns to get a better look at some of the implements on the desk, skin prickling with adrenaline. He runs his fingers over the sleek handle of a riding crop, imagining the sound it would make on skin. 

He’s all too aware of his own inexperience, and he’s all too aware of how badly he could hurt someone with a misplaced blow from the gorgeous leather whip that’s lying next to the crop. He’d want to practice, first, and he’d want to be with someone he trusts, but there’s no denying that he wants. 

Someday, he thinks, and shivers. 

When he turns around again, Spencer’s putting a neatly folded pile of clothes on the loveseat. He brushes his hair out of his eyes as he straightens up, tilting his chin almost defiantly to meet Sam’s gaze. He still looks sharp around the edges, from the angular shape of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as he swallows, to the jut of his hipbones. There’s something brittle about the way he holds himself. 

“Where do you want me?” he asks quietly, with a crack in his voice that belies the careful blankness on his face. “Um, bearing in mind that most of this room is probably highly unsanitary and I’m something of a germaphobe. Minimal contact with furniture would be… ideal.” He wrinkles his nose and Sam huffs out a laugh. 

“Over here. Brace yourself against the wall.” 

Spencer walks over silently and settles with his forearms on the wall, his head bowed, and goes completely still. 

Sam lets himself stare for one long moment, taking it all in: the delicate curve of his bent neck, the prominent ridge of his spine, the lean muscles that shift under pale skin, shoulder blades that Sam wants to run his thumb across to test whether they’d cut him as easily as he imagines. 

There’s tension in the way he’s holding himself, though. Sam frowns to himself and steps closer. 

Sam’s been hiding this, his whole life; he’s been burying this sharp, nasty piece of himself, ignoring need in favor of romance, affection, emotion. He didn’t think they could coexist. 

He has a feeling that Spencer’s been doing the opposite: slipping into this formal, scripted exchange of limits and safewords and scientific explanations, being perfectly clear about what he needs but never admitting what he wants. 

The party is still going on outside, but the silence between them is heavy enough to drown out the noise of it. Sam takes one deep breath, then another, syncing his inhales to the steady rise of Spencer’s shoulders, and sidles closer, standing at Spencer’s side where he’s visible.

He hesitates for a moment, wondering if he’s crossing a line, before following his instinct and resting a gentle hand on Spencer’s back, right between his shoulderblades. Spencer doesn’t flinch at the touch, but Sam can tell he’s surprised.  

“You good?” Sam asks quietly. 

Spencer turns his head slightly, looking sideways at Sam through long lashes. 

“I’m good,” he whispers, in that soft, smoky voice.

“Okay.” 

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth crooks up in a shy half-smile. “I’m not gonna break. I’m stronger than I look.” 

“I’d fuckin’ hope so, cause you look like I could snap you with my pinky finger,” Sam says bluntly. Spencer ducks his head and laughs, bright and surprised, and Sam can feel the vibrations of it under his palm. 

“Fair enough,” Spencer says, grinning as he goes still again. He’s not tense any more, though. He’s calm, breathing evenly under Sam’s hand. 

Sam rests his fingertips on the nape of Spencer’s neck for a moment, making his intentions clear. The first drag of his nails is gentle, nowhere near enough pressure to sting. He twists his wrist to drag them back up along the same path, still gentle, and then moves to repeat the process on a new strip of skin, once and then again. He can see the goosebumps running down Spencer’s arms, the way his neck arches, silently asking for more. 

“Are you sure?” Sam asks. 

His voice is quiet, but there’s no hesitation when he whispers, “Yes.” 

Sam curls his fingers in and drags one knuckle down the knobby bumps of his vertebrae. 

“Okay,” he repeats. 

Every lingering bit of doubt and hesitation and anxiety disappear with the first sharp crack of his palm coming down. Spencer hisses in a breath, shivers, and Sam exhales with him. 

His body goes fizzy and focused, suddenly. It’s like in the last moments of a fight, when Sam knows he’ll win, he knows exactly what to do, he sees what needs to happen with absolute clarity, and all that’s left is to trust his muscles to get the job done. It feels good. It feels like this is exactly where Sam’s meant to be. 

Two more blows, in quick succession, and the next exhale is more like a gasp. The sound sends heat lancing through Sam’s gut. 

He’s careful about it, precise, still holding back, as he moves lower. He knows how to use his hands, how to hit with just the right amount of force, which spots will hurt, which spots he should avoid unless he wants to cause real damage. Sam’s been practicing for this his whole life, in a way. 

He lands a light smack on one thigh, then the other, then harder, on the same spots. Sam’s vision tunnels down to the red flush that’s already blossoming on Spencer’s pale skin. Something dark and possessive curls in his stomach. 

The next impact pulls a rough, gorgeous sound from Spencer’s throat. Sam gives him a second to recover before doing it again, and then again, until his palm is smarting with the force of it. 

He pauses abruptly. He can see the way Spencer tenses, waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. Instead Sam brushes the tips of his fingers over red, heated skin, feather-light, making Spencer shudder, before dragging three fingernails delicately up his spine again. 

“I like the way my handprints look on you,” Sam says quietly. Spencer sucks in a shaky breath. Sam rakes his fingernails down again, digging in this time, and Spencer’s exhale breaks on a low, gravelly groan. 

The raised red lines trail down his back, a perfect set of three all the way down the right side of his spine. Sam takes a moment to admire them before giving him a matching set on the left.  He traces those lines again, smoothing them with his fingertips, fascinated by the feel of raised flesh. 

Spencer is trembling, but he’s still, waiting, ready, and there’s a dizzying level of trust implicit in that stillness. 

Sam’s blindsided by the gut-punch of arousal he feels at that realization. He takes a deep breath, putting it to the side. He’s determined to prove to himself that this doesn’t have to be selfish. 

He brings his hand down again with a powerful snap of his wrist that makes Spencer whimper. His skin must be sensitive now, blood rushing to every spot Sam’s marked, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. 

Sam puts some muscle into the next one, and that’s saying something. He’s strong, he knows he is, and he pauses to gauge the reaction. Spencer lets out another of those breathy, beautiful whimpers, and Sam can see the shudder that goes through him. Sam rakes his fingernails up the tender, overheated skin he just hit, nothing gentle about it, and Spencer arches his back, squirming slightly. 

He’s panting; they both are. Sam realizes that they’re breathing in sync, and he takes another deep heaving breath that matches the rise and fall of Spencer’s shoulders. 

Sam gives in to the urge, finally, and tangles his fingers in Spencer’s hair, tugging his head back so Sam can see his face clearly: eyes closed, lashes fluttering, a sheen of sweat on those lethal cheekbones, his mouth slack. There’s a flush decorating the pale skin, patchy, spilling all the way from his cheeks to the hollow of his neck and down his chest. He looks totally relaxed, peaceful, like he could melt under Sam’s hands. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Sam bites out, before he can help himself, and then asks, “You good?” 

“Yes.” It’s a gasp more than a word. Spencer’s eyes are still closed. 

“More?”

Spencer licks his lips and swallows hard, and Sam watches the way his throat moves with it. He whispers, “Please.” 

Heat thuds through Sam’s belly, urgent and overwhelming. He ignores it, ignores how hard he is, ignores everything but the way Spencer’s head lolls forward when Sam releases his hair and the way he moans at the next hit. 

Sam’s not holding back any more. 

There’s a rhythm to it: the sound of his palm, crack, and the choked, rasping sound that it pulls from Spencer’s lips, nnngh, and the steady thump-thump of Sam’s heartbeat pounding in his ears, and it crescendos quickly, until the ragged cries turn desperate and wrecked.  

“Last one,” he warns. 

Crack.

“I need -” 

Sam thinks of Spencer’s “no touching” rule, but he can’t bring himself to move away entirely. He tangles his fingers in Spencer’s hair again, tugging gently and then combing through the messy curls, and Spencer leans into it, catlike. He lets out a deep, ragged groan as he touches himself, movements fast and urgent.

“Did so good,” Sam says fiercely. His fingers twist and tug, sharp enough to sting, and he curls the other hand around Spencer’s side, digging his thumbnail into the ridge of his hipbone. That’s all it takes; he can feel the head-to-toe shudder, the last surge of tension before Spencer shakes almost violently under his hands.

Spencer crumples like a puppet with his strings cut. 

“C’mere, I’ve got you,” Sam says hoarsely, getting an arm around him and maneuvering so that they both have their backs to the wall as they slide to the floor. 

Spencer ends up tucked against Sam’s side, folded under his arm like he belongs there. He’s breathing harsh and heavy, and Sam cups the round of his shoulder with one hand, running his thumb in mindlessly soothing circles, waiting for him to come back to himself. 

As for Sam… he’s hard, still, more turned on than he can remember being in a long time, but there’s the strangest sense of calm settling into his body, a bone-deep satisfaction that has nothing to do with sex. 

This isn’t the same vicious, feral sort of satisfaction that he remembers. It’s nothing like crimson-tinted memories of lashing out rough and wild, like some sort of savage animal he’d unleashed. There’s nothing selfish about this.

He closes his eyes for a moment, breathless at the wave of blissed-out relief that’s crashing down around him. 

“You good?” he asks, falling back on what seems to be his mantra for the evening. 

“I’m… no, not really, hang on,” Spencer mumbles, and Sam flinches, moving away instinctively. 

“Shit, sorry, what -” 

“No, wait, that’s not - just… can you reach the tissues, or do I actually have to stand up right now?” Spencer asks, with a disgruntled sort of glare at the box of Kleenex on the end table. 

Sam laughs, awkward and self-conscious. Spencer blinks owlishly up at him, shaking his hair out of his eyes. Then a smile spreads over his face slowly and he’s laughing too as Sam leans and stretches over to grab the box. 

“The male orgasm is really inconvenient sometimes,” Spencer mutters. 

Sam lets out another snort of laughter, looking away to give him some privacy as he cleans up. He’s not sure what the etiquette of this whole situation is; it’s such a strange thing, oddly intimate, and even though Sam’s still fully-dressed, he feels exposed in a way he’s not used to. 

“Now I’m good,” Spencer says quietly. He’s got his knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, but he tilts his head back against the wall and aims a hazy, heavy-lidded stare at Sam. His lips part and curl up in a barely-there smile, and his tongue flicks out over the pink curve of his lower lip. 

Those edges that Sam first noticed are harder to see, now; he’s all soft eyes and softer mouth, flushed skin, messy hair… all except the line of his jaw. That’s still wickedly, unmistakably sharp. 

Spencer should come with a warning sign: handle with care. Sam’s not sure who that sign would be protecting. It could be handle with care: fragile, or, just as easily, handle with care: sharp edges. 

Either way, there’s a good chance of someone getting hurt here. 

“Can I kiss you?” Sam asks. 

Spencer’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly with surprise, and his pupils are huge and dark, liquid-looking, hypnotic. He blinks, slowly, and suddenly looks about ten years younger. He’d been so self-assured ordering Sam not to draw blood; that confidence is gone, now, like he’s had less experience with kissing than with telling people how to hit him. 

Oh, Sam thinks, and tries not to let his own surprise show on his face. 

“Yes,” Spencer whispers. He licks his lower lip again before adding, thready and shy, “Please.” 

Sam reaches out slowly. His pinky, ring, and middle fingers curl around the side of Spencer’s neck, sliding through thin, sweat-damp strands of hair. The L-shape of his thumb and index finger slots to the angle of Spencer’s jaw. He can feel the bone under thin skin, the way the pad of his thumb nestles so neatly between the hard edge of jawbone and the soft give of vulnerable throat. 

It’s a perfect fit.

.

.

.

[ladyinfierno]

Bookshop AU + Accidentally saving the day

Ahh, nothing better than the OTP to heal the soul, thanks for indulging me, Duckie :’)

Bookshop AU + Accidentally saving the day - PrUK

I have to admit this is heavily inspired by the increasing amount of Spiderman on my dash lately, haha, so it ended up being kind of a superhero AU too. Also took liberties with the second prompt. TW: Blood.

- We’ll start with Arthur Kirkland, owner of a small corner bookshop at the end of a busy street, whose life is pretty... tame, in his own words, but with a fond underside at the same time. He can’t really be bothered to seek adventure outside of reading and -secretly- writing books. (Not anymore, at least.)

- His local is small compared to the others surrounding him, but still has a decent amount of space for bookshelves, reading corners, and a small loft with big circular windows that he always has to shut close more than once each day because they keep opening on their own.

- He has one weird customer... Alright, he has a lot of weird customers but he pays special attention to this one: Pale skin, a shock of white hair, and maroon eyes that he swears he’s seen glow blood red in the dim light of the shop some evenings, even if nobody believes him.

- The customer’s name is Gilbert Beil-sch-midt, as he presented himself, probably assuming Arthur would have a hard time pronouncing it back, which was correct, but still annoying.

- Gilbert seems to always come at odd hours every other day, his excuse being that he’s a college student of one thing or another about physics or chemistry or something, so his schedule is weird. It’s a good excuse, Arthur gives him, but he sometimes sees the younger man running outside on the street, and he could swear he’s seen him leave the store even when he hasn’t seen him come in.

- Gilbert also often comes in with a lot of bruises on his arms, sometimes even on his face, and he brightly dismisses them as the result of rugby practice, which again, is believable, if those arms and legs are something to go by. Not that Arthur is looking.

- He buys a wide range of different books: Immunology, physiology, antique weaponry, healthy recipe compendiums and bird watching guides. Arthur has to wonder just where does he find these ones in the shop, maybe inside those boxes at the back he still has to organise through.

- Their city isn’t that big, but lately it’s been gaining fame on TV and social media because of a vigilante-styled superhero in the city: The White Knight. (Which is a corny as hell name in Arthur’s opinion, but better than the one given by his detractors: The red death.)

- One day he has to stay late at the shop, having already closed for the day but balancing the books at the counter with a growing headache, a cup of tea and the lone light of his desk lamp.

- He hears a faint sound, some light screech, followed by a loud crash and a string of muffled curses coming from the upper level. He does the only reasonable thing: He grabs the baseball bat under the counter and goes to look.

- There's a lump on the floor, seemingly tangled on a fallen curtain, so Arthur does the second most reasonable thing: He hits it with his bat. He gets a metallic sound and a yelp, more surprised than hurt, and goes to hit again.

- This time, he hits something more solid, the sound of ripping fabric and cracking glass echoing in the lone shop. In front of him lay a cracked red shield reflecting his own surprised face to him, being the first time he's seen those powers in display first hand, and behind it, a fierce, glowing red gaze stares at him from the depths of a steel helmet. It comes off more annoyed than intimidating, and the fact that the owner is still gracelessly sprawled on the floor helps to that. If asked, Arthur would use that to forget the shiver that definitely travelled down his spine.

- That's the first encounter he has with the infamous White Knight, who not only doesn't seem that white all caked in mud and blood and who knows what else, but also almost bleeds out on his floor, making a mess and getting on Arthur's already frayed nerves. It doesn't help that the superhero ends up fainting.

- He ends up tending to his wounds the best he can, removing great part of the surprisingly light plate but leaving the helmet. It looks uncomfortable despite its fitting design, but he feels it's too invasive to just, take it out. Arthur falls asleep beside the unconscious superhero at some point, one hand on his wounded chest, and very so slowly, the blood stops dripping, the wounds close without a trace.

- Surprise, surprise. Arthur might have some kind of dormant powers too, or maybe Gilbert's body reacts somehow to Arthur's, or to one of those runes Arthur likes to scribble on his skin. Whatever it was, it inadvertently heals Gilbert enough that he wakes up with a gasp, hella confused, and a bit flustered.

- He cleans his mess as good as he's able, collects his armour and leaves.

Aaaaand that's it for the prompts because suddenly I realised I wanted more of this AU but this was getting long, so just putting down a few more thoughts:

- About Gilbert powers: He has the ability to harden his own blood, and with time has mastered it enough to make out weapons out of it, resembling crystal but being pretty hard. He likes daggers and swords, and he's also good at making shields. The only downside being that the blood needs to be “connected” to him, if it breaks it turns liquid again and he can't get it back, this turns out to be pretty dangerous for long battles.

- No other powers. No super strength nor invulnerability. This is just one stupid buff man running around chasing criminals in knight cosplay, with the power of blood and anime on his side.

- See also: Parkour.

-  Arthur and the White Knight keep meeting every other night, and Gilbert also keeps coming into the shop, totally not behaving suspiciously, but Arthur never mentions anything so he feels safe. Until one day Art just calls him “Gilbert” while he's in armour and while he's having an existential crisis Arthur's just like “Oh, I didn't think you were trying to keep it a secret from me still?”

- Also drama because Gilbert falls pretty hard for Arthur, and tries to flirt with him as the civilian, but finds it easier to do so as the superhero, and Arthur seems interested but what if he only likes one side of him? What if he gets disappointed once he learns the truth? What if, what if? Until the previous paragraph happens.

This derailed bad, but I had a burst of inspiration and had to go with it until it ran out, hence... this.

[kayliemusing]

42: top 3s

1: Top 3 ice cream flavors - classic vanilla, birthday cake/birthday batter, bubblegum

2: Top 3 Disney Movies - Mulan, Onward, Soul (but this changes frequently lol)

3: Top 3 vacation destinations - I've never been outside of my home country so I'll say my top 3 DREAM destinations: NYC, Hawaii, a random countryside in either France or the UK

4: Top 3 places to shop - Dynamite, Sephora, Winners/Homesense

5: Top 3 subjects of study/classes to take - English/anything creative writing related, Interior Decorating/Design, Communications?

6: Top 3 make up products - YSL Touche Eclat Foundation, literally any Mac Lipstick but it has to be matte, & Fenty Beauty contour stick

7: Top 3 music artists - Taylor Swift - Of Monsters and Men - The Lumineers

8: Top 3 spices/herbs - Cinnamon - Nutmeg (literally tastes like autumn) - Paprika

9: Top 3 drinks - Diet Coke - Hot Chocolate - Vanilla Bean Frappe

10: Top 3 apps to use - Instagram - Pinterest -iBooks

11: Top 3 months of the year - May, October, December

12: Top 3 clothing items - My black/white turtle neck, high waisted jeans, plaid blazer

13: Top 3 binge perfect tv shows - Bones, Supernatural, Brooklyn Nine Nine

14: Top 3 romantic dates - (I've never been on a date but if I had, it would be this) Evening walk, late night drive, late night coffee date (tbh anything at night feels romantic)

15: Top 3 kinds of flower - Water lilies, cherry blossoms, roses

16: Top 3 christmas movies - A Christmas Carol (2009), Home Alone, The Polar Express

17: Top 3 OTPs - Nesta and Cassian from ACOTAR series by SJM, Manon and Dorian from Throne of Glass series by SJM, Casteel and Poppy from From Blood and Ash series by JLM.

18: Top 3 quotes to describe your life - "I write not to find, but to leave" by Scherezade Siobhan - "I want to be myself again. I want to be six. I want to stop knowing everything I know" by Catherynne M. Valente - "The truth is, I pretend to be a cynic, but I am really a dreamer who is terrified of wanting something she may never get" by Joanna Hoffman.

19: Top 3 characteristics you love about yourself - my kindness bc it's not surface level kindness, but actually something deeply rooted within me - my resilience even tho sometimes it doesn't feel like resilience - my loyalty bc it is a hard as steel kind of loyalty

20: Top 3 kinds of candy - Maltesers, Kit kats, smarties

21: Top 3 ways to exercise/ be active - Walking, dancing, mowing the lawn/shoveling the sidewalk

22: Top 3 spirit animals - wolf, hummingbird, tiger (i googled it bc i didn't know and i was scared it was a joke but)

23: Top 3 petnames - I like 'lovebug', 'love', 'sweetheart'

24: Top 3 books read outside of school - The Hating Game by Sally Thorne, A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J Maas but viewers discretion is advised, Crush by Richard Siken

25: Top 3 most used websites - Youtube, Tumblr, Pinterest

26: Top 3 people you last texted - my mom, my bestie megan, and my sister bc they're the only people i text...

27: Top 3 hashtags you use - the only time i use hashtags is if i'm trying to promote some of my writing so I'll usually use writingcommunity, writersonig, poetryonig lol

28: Top 3 instagram accounts you follow - Trista Mateer, Griefmother, obviously taylor swift

29: Top 3 guilty pleasures - buzzfeed quizzes, early 2000s music, romance novels

30: Top 3 summer activities - Going to the zoo, long evening walks, campfires and s'mores

31: Top 3 things to draw/doodle - hearts, flowers, random swirls bc it's the only thing i can doodle...

32: Top 3 aesthetics - cityscape aesthetic, autumn aesthetic, rustic aesthetic

33: Top 3 things you'd buy if you gained three million dollars - a new car, a condo, another cat

34: Top 3 ways to treat yourself - facial, a large bag of maltesers, buying the makeup i really want but have been putting off

35: Top 3 celebrity crushes - Evan Peters, Matthew Daddario, henry cavill

36: Top 3 books from your childhood - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, The Big Friendly Giant by Roald Dahl, and Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmens

37: Top 3 accents to hear - Australian, super poshy british accent, new zealand accent

38: Top 3 scents - Fresh rain, vanilla, sweet cinnamon pumpkin from bath and body works

39: Top 3 "Friends" quotes - "WE WERE ON A BREAK" -Ross, "Guess things were just going too well for me" -also ross, and "it's so exhausting waiting for death" - phoebe

40: Top 3 cupcake flavors - tbh I haven't tried that many cupcakes so your typical vanilla, chocolate, and Pink Lady Cupcake from Babycakes Cupcakery

41: Top 3 fruits - Pomegranates, Strawberries, Raspberries

42: Top 3 places you've had amazing pizza from - Pizzahut, Dominos, Pizza73

43: Top 3 sports teams to watch - i don't

44: Top 3 crayola colors - uh, i guess red, purple, and pink??

45: Top 3 things you hope to accomplish in college - Certificates/Degrees in Copyediting and Creative Writing, and I think simply just deeper critical thinking skills when it comes to writing and books

46: Top 3 fanfictions you've read - I read more books than fanfics, I've read a couple on tumblr but don't remember the names sorry :/

47: Top 3 people you miss right now - my dad, my best friend bc she's in vancouver, taylor swift bc she's not on tumblr anymore rip

48: Top 3 fears - Failure, Loss, not achieving anything in life/not reaching my full potential

49: Top 3 favorite literary devices - Foreshadowing is always god tier, cliffhangers although evil i love those too, symbolism

50: Top 3 pet peeves - People dragging their shoes on the floor when they walk, when you tell someone your fav hobby/music artist/interest and they immediately go 'oh I hate X!', and people who go 'you're so quiet!!!' but in a way that draws in more attention and/or makes me feel more uncomfortable like i would literally rather die

51: Top 3 physical things you find attractive - Hands, nice hair, defined jawlines

52: Top 3 bad habits - Nailbiting, picking at my blemishes oops, lip biting

53: Top 3 pets you've had/wish to have - Cats bc they complete me, I've always wanted a Samoyed, and I've always wanted a turtle

54: Top 3 types of foreign food - Chicken Chow Mein, deep fried shrimp, japanese chicken wings

55: Top 3 things you want to say to someone in your lifetime - 'I quit', 'I love you', 'you changed my life'

56: Top 3 dog breeds - Samoyed, german shepherds, collies

57: Top 3 cheesy romance movies - You've Got Mail, How To Lose a Guy In 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You

58: Top 3 languages you speak/wish to speak - French, Sign, and maybe Japanese?

59: Top 3 series (book, movie, television) - The Cruel Prince series by Holly Black, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas (but literally only for Cassian and Nesta), From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L Armentrout

60: Top 3 pizza toppings - Mushrooms, alfredo sauce, pineapple

61: Top 3 youtubers you're subscribed to - Game Grumps, Charlotte Dobre, Megan Batoon

62: Top 3 tattoo / piercing ideas - I want to get a tattoo on my wrist of the last thing my dad ever wrote me, a hummingbird tattoo right next to it, and then a cross on my index finger

63: Top 3 awards you want to win - National Book Awards, Nobel Prize, and maybe even Goodreads Choice Awards lol

64: Top 3 emojis - Laugh/Crying emoji, the please sir emoji that kinda gives off those puss n boots eyes, and the stars emoji

65: Top 3 cars you dream of owning - 1970s Chev Impala, tbh a cute little Hyundai Venue, and maaaaybe the 1964 ferarri 250 gt luso (idk if that name was totally right but i had to do tons of googling to find it. i don't know a lot about cars and i don't really have a top 3 lol)

66: Top 3 authors - Right now I'm really into Sarah J Maas, Sally Thorne, and Holly Black maybe?

67: Top 3 historical figures - Jesus, Anne Frank, Vincent Van Gogh

68: Top 3 baby names - Ryder, Leila, Gracie

69: Top 3 DIYs - Candles, refurnishing old furniture (i.e. my mom and i painted our wooden garbage can), and really just any type of autumn diy

70: Top 3 smoothie combos/flavors - Strawberry/Banana, Mango, Strawberry-Mango

71: Top 3 songs of this month - Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish, Biblical by Calum Scott, and Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran

72: Top 3 questions of this post you want to be asked - I did them all bc I made it a survey instead of an ask meme ;)

73: Top 3 villains - Regina/The Evil Queen from Once Upon a Time, Cruella De Vil, and Moriarty from Sherlock

74: Top 3 Cities you want to see - Montreal, NYC, Vancouver (honorable mention: LA)

75: Top 3 recipes you want to try - different kind of salad and/or burger bowls, Stuffed bell peppers, and homemade lemon loaf

76: Top 3 dream jobs - Bestselling author, the person who runs a companies social media accounts, youtuber/blogger

77: Top 3 lucky items - tbh don't have one

78: Top 3 traditions you have - Christmas Eve Service and if I don't go to that at least incorporating reading the christmas story on christmas day or eve, idk if this counts as tradition but going to the corn maze every fall, and whenever it's easter/christmas/thanksgiving we always have a big meal w/ family

79: Top 3 things you miss about being a kid - reckless abandon, dreaming about growing up with hopefulness and no dashed hopes, experiencing holidays like halloween and christmas as a kid

80: Top 3 harry potter characters - I've never read or watched Harry Potter rip (ok well i saw the first and second (and maybe third?) movie in the sixth grade I think) but I think I really liked Hermoine, Harry obviously and Dobby

81: Top 3 lies you were told - i don't have 3, but this one has a story but basically when my sister and i were in elementary school my sister got hit by a car and so the insurance thing was that she would recieve 10k when she was 18 and as a child i thought that was unfair so my dad told me that my sister had to split it with me when we were 18 lmao obviously that didn't happen (i think i realized that wasn't true in middle school)

82: Top 3 pictures in your camera roll right now - Pictures of my cat, one of my sister in a hilarious filter, and a picture of my rocking my TS merch

83: Top 3 turn ons - Kindness, defined jawline, easy going

84: Top 3 turn offs - arrogance, unkempt, super loud and obnoxious

85: Top 3 magazines/news papers/ journals to read - I don't read much of those so I'll tell you some sites I love for writing purpose's: there's Wellstoried, justwriterlythings, springhole.net (which is filled with generators if you're stuck and also tons of infomation and advice)

86: Top 3 things you wish you had known earlier - that toad in Mario Party was wearing a mushroom hat and that it is actually not his head, that immaculate means 'clean' before i misused that word like several times over the years, and that the one turn i always take on my way to work where i thought everyone didn't know how to drive was actually bc i didn't have the right of way rip me

87: Top 3 spongebob episodes - the one episode where spongebob and patrick find a ghost ship, that one episode where they form a bikini bottom band and perform it at a football game in a little fish tank, and the one episode where squidward has his first snowball fight

88: Top 3 places to be in the world - I'd love to be in NYC, Montreal, or Hawaii

89: Top 3 things you'd do differently - I would not have applied for RDC, similarly I should have just paid the 500 dollars to the one certificate program I wanted to do instead of overthinking it, and I wish I wouldn't have ended a friendship the way I did

90: Top 3 TV shows from your childhood - Spongebob Squarepants, That's So Raven, and Hannah Montana

91: Top 3 meals you love - Turkey Burgers, Chilli, and Instant Pot Chicken Tortilla Soup

92: Top 3 kinds of tea - i don't drink tea

93: Top 3 embarrassing moments - one time in sixth grade I tripped and fell right on my face in front of my crush, this other time like a couple years ago i opened the door to my car and only realized much too late while i was staring at this random family that it was not my car, and when i went to the gas station to get gas and couldn't get my gas lid on my car opened and this guy had to help me which was already embarrassing enough but then the gas pump wouldn't work so i had to go inside to pay just to realize i forgot my wallet and had to shamefully walk back to my car and then run back inside the convenience store and then pay and then walk back to my car and finally fill my tank.

94: Top 3 holidays to celebrate - Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving

95: Top 3 things to do in the rain - have an existential crisis, pretend you're in a music video, walk through puddles like you're six again

96: Top 3 things to do in the snow - Sledding, Build a snowman, shovel it even tho you don't want to

97: Top 3 items you can't leave the house w/o - phone, keys, wallet

98: Top 3 movies you'd like to see - Jurassic World 3, Hotel Transylvania: Transformania bc i'm a child, and the animation of the addams family

99: Top 3 art mediums - Writing fiction/poetry, painting, music

100: Top 3 museums you've been to - Royal Tyrell Museum, Canadian History one in edmonton lol, and heritage park in calgary

101: Top 3 school memories - Middle school dances when the popular kids would grind to the song "Low" which was always an interesting experience, in the twelfth grade at winter formal when we all shouted "SHUT UP AND DANCE!" at the same time when they played Shut Up and Dance, and the day i left

102: Top 3 things you don't/Won't miss - School, my sisters ex, 2016 bc she was a rough year yikes

103: Top 3 pick up lines - "My name is Will. God's Will.", "I'd like to take you to the movies but they don't like you bring your own snacks", "are you from tennessee bc you're the only 10 i see"

104: Top 3 sports to watch - none of them

105: Top 3 taylor swift songs - all too well - exile - coney island

[thewitforgecat]

for the character thing, leela? 😊

(Sorry for taking so long with this, it’s been in my drafts for ages.)

Favourite thing about them:

Her strength and ferocity, in absolutely everything she does. She fights with unwavering strength, loves fiercely, never allows her weaknesses to hold her back. I could talk about this for pages and pages but then I’d take up the whole post.

Least favourite thing about them:

This is so hard bc I have such a tendency to love even the flaws of the characters I adore and it sort of blinds me to anything I might genuinely not like about them. I feel like on occasion she’s unjustly blamed Romana for things that were out of her control and hasn’t taken into account the complexity of certain situations (but that’s pretty rare bc honestly Romana is usually to blame, so it’s probably not really a good point at all)

Favourite Line:

This is SO difficult so I’m probably going to have to think of one of the first things to come to my head and make a longer post of my favourite quotes later. For now it’s probably either ‘I would never give up your soul either’ or ‘She is quicksilver, I prefer steel’ because wow she is so soft, particularly with Romana, and she has such a way of wording compliments to be unquestionably genuine and full of pure love.

brOTP:

Leela/Brax - They actually have a lot of mutual respect that you wouldn’t necessarily expect from them and it’s GORGEOUS. They grow to genuinely care for one another and that growth is so wonderful to listen to. Again I could talk forever about how sweet they are but I fear that would take up the whole post.

OTP:

It’s a Romana/Leela Narvin/Leela tie. I simply cannot choose one. The ultimate is all three at once so that’s my luck really. Basically they all just love each other a whole lot and work really beautifully together so how could you not ship it.

nOTP:

Leela/Andred - I can see why people think they’re cute and Leela did genuinely love him but also I cannot get over the feelings of ‘GET A JOB, STAY AWAY FROM HER’ I get whenever he speaks to her. She should’ve ended up with Rodan instead but the BBC are cowards.

Random Headcanon:

Not the best headcanon but the first thing that popped into my head is that Leela routinely scouts the outlands for nice places to go for picnics or hang out for the day in nature and whenever Romana/Narvin or both look like they’re far too stressed for their own good she drags them out to one of these places and spends the day with them. She absolutely relishes having time with someone she loves in nature where she feels most comfortable, and they both protest at being brought along but secretly they both look forward to those days more than anything.

Unpopular Opinion:

I’m not sure I actually have one I’m horrifyingly boring.

Song I associate with them:

First ones to spring to mind were ‘Believe’ and ‘Below my Feet’ by Mumford and Sons and ‘Runaway’ by Aurora but I have loads that make me think of her.

Favourite picture of them:

This one, the way her smile lights up her entire face is so precious to me and just warms my heart every time.

[i-will-write-for-you]

Avenging Angel 

Pairing: Clace - Clary/Jace 

Prompt: “Clary saving Jace from trouble” 

Prompter: Anon 

Admin: Darker

***

Jace sagged heavily against the wall, his eyes sliding shut. He was covered in blood, some his own, some not, and the rogue vampire had thrown away his stele, leaving him defenceless. 

It was just supposed to be a simple hunt; which is why he hadn’t taken any back up with him...but he’d been ambushed with over ten rogue vampires, and he was fading in and out of consciousness. 

He thought only of Clary, how she’d be expecting him back, how worried she’d be--and worst of all, that perhaps she would try to find him.

As that thought makes him shudder, the door to the abandoned warehouse he’d been kept in burst open, two bodies flying through it.

He recognized that flame of red hair anywhere. Clary. 

The dagger she held glowed as she held it with complete confidence. 

“Clary!” Jace called, suddenly feeling more alert. He struggled in the cuffs that the vampires had put him in, but he was groggy from being fed on. “Clary, et out of here--”

Clary’s eyes darted over to him, but only momentarily. She was occupied with finishing off the vampire that wrestled with her. 

Jace had to help her. He had to--

But by the time he staggered to his feet without the held of his hands, Clary was standing over the vampire’s unmoving body. 

“It’s impolite to kidnap people’s boyfriends,” Clary grimaced, stepping over the body without relish and meeting Jace’s eyes. 

He was shocked, his jaw hanging open. She was covered in bits of flesh and cuts, her jacked was torn and hanging off of her, but--she looked good. Alive, and a bit pleased with herself, really. 

“Clary are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you come here alone?” Was all he could sputter out, his voice weak. 

She rolled her eyes and stalked over to him, using a version of her opening rune to snap the cuffs free from his wrists. “Didn’t you?” She challenged.

She had him there.

“Clary, you--you defeated an entire nest of rogue vampires?” 

She grinned wildly up at him, etching a quick iratze into his neck. He felt instantly stronger. 

“Yes.” 

Jace had to admit; that was a turn on. “Can you carry me out of here?” 

Her eyes widened as if she believed that he really needed her to carry him out. She eyed his tall frame dubiously, and then nodded, steeling herself. “Okay. I think I maybe can--you’re pretty thin--” 

Jace mock gasped. “I’m toned,” he complained, and then ruffled her already mussed hair. “I’m exhausted, but I can walk. I was just teasing you. C’mon, let’s go home. We need to report this nest and I need to watch at least two episodes of Ru Pauls Drag Race to heal my soul after being fed on like an all you can eat buffet.” 

Clary laced her small hands into his, smiling as she did. Jace could see the exhaustion on her face, see what the worry had caused her and how hard on her body that battle had been. He really wanted to get her home more than he wanted to rest. She could take a bath, soak her sore muscles. He would make sure she didn’t push herself too hard.

“And we need to work on your technique. The way you used that dagger could use just a bit more fine tuning--”

“Jace,” Clary chimed patiently. 

“Yes?” 

“Shut up.” 

And, when she stretched up on her toes to kiss him, Jace gladly did just that. 

**

Send prompts of your OTP and get a drabble featuring them!!!! 

[ajokeformur-ray]

His favourite colour is you // J x Lilith // wedded bliss.

Summary: Just a smol gift for @jokershyena​ sskskk I’m such an enabler for my OTP skskskk. J comes home to find you asleep in his purple trench, and he realises that, in more ways than one does he look good on you.

Word count: 668.

The nights were just for the two of you.

During the day you had classes to attend, chores to do, places to see and people to meet... On and on did your responsibilities go, so dizzying was the amount that even J, with his immaculate memory, had trouble remembering everything which you felt the need to do in any given day.

But at night, oh, like a kaleidoscope of colours did you come together. Purples, greens, blues, reds... His favourite shade amongst all of those, was you. 

You, with your addiction to Monster and your love of creatures which were shunned or misunderstood. You, with your wicked temper and mood swings. You, with your odd ways but your heart of gold. You, with your complete and utter acceptance of all that he was and all that he would ever be. When you had first met J, you been afraid. But you hadn’t wanted to be and that was why he had approached you slowly, palms up facing you, his expression calm. He was good with you, kind to you, and over the weeks and months had the two of you struck up some kind of relationship.

During the day were you alone but at night... the nights were for the two of you.

Currently was in the two in the morning. J expected you to be awake; a night owl such as yourself was often up at the strange, early (or was it late?) hours of the day. Instead was he greeted with the sight of you curled up at the knee on the sofa in his purple shirt (he had wondered where it had gone), your bare knee sticking out of his royal purple trench coat, which draped over you so perfectly and rose and fell to the rhythm of your own breaths.

“Someone stayed up, didn’t they?” J muttered as he crossed the room in a few easy, confident strides, the sound of his steel toe caps muffled by the plush carpet which you had insisted upon. It was lilac in shade, fluffy, and though he had winced when you had first insisted upon it had he grown to love the colour. It was your ‘ship name’, you had told him, whatever that meant. You had explained it to him but the explanation had been lost to the organised chaos of his mind. 

With a gentle hand did J reach out to brush some of your light hair from your face. Loathe to disturb you was he, so instead of waking you up did he simply scoop you up, bending at the knee to roll you securely into his muscular arms, his trench coat beginning to slide off your body. He did as best as he could to trap the expensive material between your body and his chest as he carried you effortlessly to the bedroom. You were usually so loud, so energetic - oh, you both loved such traits in each other - but right now were you calm, serene. Peaceful.

You had fallen asleep in your own apartment, shared with J, unknowing of when he was coming back. You had presumably stayed up with the intent of greeting him but instead had you fallen asleep, right there out in the open, with his coat over you like a duvet to protect you from the chill of the room

You couldn’t have said I trust you, I love you any louder if you had tried, and J felt your truth seep deep into his soul, wrapping around his heart and squeezing so tenderly that he wanted to cry.

“You’re my humanity, Lilith.” With a lingering kiss to your forehead did J climb into bed beside you. He slung a careful arm over your waist, made sure that the coat was still over you even under the covers as you were, and then he too joined Morpheus’ embrace, knowing he’d see you in dreams, too. 

You were his Queen, his guiding light, his purpose... His hyena.

[galedekarios]

I won't keep you to myself for too long, but while I have you - I want to say thank you for encouraging me to attend this evening.

[historia-gloria]

So! I was tagged by @howshouldiknowboutlife to do 5 otps from 5 different things, no particular order, and I'm never one to not talk about my favourite podcasts.

1. Juno Steel/Peter Nureyev from the Penumbra Podcast (Junoverse) Okay okay Penumbra owns my soul. This is the perfect oppositions! PI falls in love with a master thief! So much pining! Two idiots fall in love and continue to pretend that they're not! It's so queer and I love it so much. Honestly, I could rant forever about how much I love Penumbra and all its canon relationships because it's such an excellent cast of gays, Junoverse or Second Citadel.

2. Percival Frederickstein von Musel Kowalski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia from Critical Role (Campaign One) Okay, this is a perfect ship. Tortured young man falls in love with a bright intelligent, charismatic woman who drags him out of his romanticized darkness and in turn, he loves her with his whole being and gives her a family. Their wedding will never not make me cry.

3. Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archives JonMartin is another excellent example of a narrative foil being a love interest, I'm so about these. Jon slowly falling in love with him! Them setting boundaries during the literal apocalypse! They just care so much.

4. Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde/Hamid Saleh Haroun al-Tahan from Rusty Quill Gaming Okay I know this is cheating because it's an OT3 but please. They deserve to be happy. Also, I ship so much from RQG, like Azu/Sasha and Carter/Barnes and Ed/Tjelvar so like, I just love them all.

5. Aziraphale/Crowley from Good Omens Again!!! Give me the "we're on opposing sides but I love you". Honestly the whole 'we're on opposite sides!' 'We're on our side!' will always get me! Also, 6000 years of married couple shenanigans is amazing.

Okay, I could rant forever about this but yeah! And we have one (1) thing that isn't a podcast! Owen Wilson Voice: wow.

Alright, I tag @kristsune @kd-heart @areyouokaypanda @sphinxflowers @epistolaryteatime

[thisbluespirit]

Ten Favourite Characters

Memed from @mariocki​  And despite the numbering, not really in strict order, although I tried and no. 1 is definitely no. 1. 

10. Kathryn Janeway

"There are three things to remember about being a starship captain. Keep your shirt tucked in, go down with the ship... and never abandon a member of your crew."

Okay, basically, me and Star Trek is: I like it if it has Captain Janeway in it.  If it does not have Captain Janeway in it, I might go so far as to mildly enjoy it from time to time, but Janeway is the essential thing.  I walked in one day and saw Kate Mulgrew on the screen and sat down immediately, eventually asking my friend, in hushed tones of awe, “Who is that?”  (I’m not even joking.)  (I don’t hate the rest of ST or anything, but, you know.  It’s not Doctor Who and it doesn’t have Captain Janeway in it, what can I say?  I like the one with the whales, too?)

9. Jenkins

“Magic is not an exact science. If it were, it would be science.”

With Jenkins (John Larroquette), The Librarians takes a mythical character I never gave a thought to, or imagined I would want to, and gave me All the Feels about him.  By the end of S1, I was drawing hearts around Jenkins every time he appeared and that happens all too rarely at the moment, so I think he has to go on this list.  (I’m a Doctor Who fan, how could I not love a grumpy immortal caretaker with a magic door and a heart of gold?) *draws hearts around him regardless of his disapproval and annoyance at said hearts*

8. G’kar

“No dictator, no invader can hold an imprisoned population by force of arms forever. There is no greater power in the universe than the need for freedom. Against that power tyrants and dictators cannot stand. The Centauri learned that lesson once. We will teach it to them again. Though it take a thousand years, we will be free.”

G’kar’s arc is just beautiful (from semi-villainous schemer to unwilling religious icon), as is every part of his epic relationship with Londo, and he is my favourite.  There was a period in S1 where there were about 7 episodes without him and I nearly died.  And, I mean, I really like Babylon 5 and everybody else in it, but that was just cruel and unusual.  Thank goodness it never happened again.  Andreas Katsulas was just brilliant.

7. Seventh Doctor

"That's what guns are for. Pull the trigger, end a life. Simple, isn't it?  Why don't you do it, then?  Look me in the eye, pull the trigger, end my life.  Why not?"

What do you do with a thing like Doctor Who in a meme like this?  I could do my top ten fave characters just in Doctors, let alone companions, before we even get started on minor characters, so let’s have my favourite Doctor do the honours for everyone here.  He hates unrequited love, loathes bus stations (terrible places, full of lost souls and lost luggage), and knows we all have a universe of our own terrors to face, and he’ll be back in time for tea.

With Ace, of course, who is also the best.  As are so many of the rest.

6. Servalan

"There’s no one as free as a dead man.”

It’s so hard to choose Blake’s 7 characters!  They’re all so fascinating, that’s why it still gets watched and loved.  If I’m honest it’s Vila or Servalan, and today I went for Servalan, which probably will save anyone from getting stabbed in the back.  I love me an evil lady and Jacqueline Pearce’s Servalan is probably my favourite villain in anything, especially in terms of characters who remain irredeemable, but are also plausible and interesting.  She’s certainly the most fabulously dressed, anyway.

5. Lynda Day

”I don’t do conversation.  Everything I say comes out like an order.  I say hello and people salute!”

Like every other girl of my very specific age demographic in the UK (Press Gang was watched by something ridiculous like 80% of its target teenage audience, which I don’t think has ever happened before or since), I wanted to grow up to be Lynda Day, dictator editor of the Junior Gazette.  It’s probably as well that none of us did, but she was the very best, and I remain grateful to have had her around, and Julia Sawalha was always fantastic right from trespassers will be exterminated to there are crocodiles. 

4. Silver

Sapphire: “You’re supposed to lose sometimes.”

Silver: “Oh! I wondered why I wasn’t having any fun.”

So, Sapphire and Steel are pretty amazing, right, but let’s be honest, I was always watching this for the red-headed guy in Assignments 3 & 6, and he did not disappoint.  I mean, Sapphire & Steel is the weirdest, creepiest low-budget thing with our srs bsns inhuman heroes and then suddenly David Collings turns up and makes light-bulbs glow and turn into glitter.  He is the sparkliest, no one can deny it and he can slide right into the perfect OTP and turn it into the even shinier OT3.  Not that that stops him flirting with everyone else as well, of course.

3. Regina Mills

“There's no redemption for me. There's only suffering. Because now I have a curse. The curse of knowing the difference between good and evil. And I'm caught between them. If I revert, I lose everyone I love. Henry, my friends, everyone. And if I go forward trying to be good, I have to live with my past darkness and all its well-deserved consequences... But for me, it's a simple choice really. I'd rather suffer than see that pain on the people I care about. This is my fate.“                            

Regina gets to go from being Once Upon A Time’s original OTT fairytale villain to hero (and plays out every possible shade in between, plus various cursed and alternate versions of herself, not to mention her evil doppelganger), and Lana Parrilla’s just amazing at All The Things.  I went from not even liking her to somehow letting her rip my heart right out of my chest when I wasn’t looking.  (Bonus shout out to her mother Cora Mills/Queen of Hearts (Barbara Hershey) too.)

2. Frank Marker

"Have you heard about old heads on young shoulders?  Well, you employ me, you get an old head.  You get old shoulders, too, but then no-one's perfect."

I’m with @mariocki​ here: Alfred Burke’s run down, small-time enquiry agent in Public Eye (TV 1965-75) is one of the most utterly 3D, real and compelling TV characters I’ve ever come across.  (With a bonus mention for the very lovely Helen Mortimer (Pauline Delany), because I might even love her a tiny bit more than Frank some days. <3)

1. Ruth Evershed

“I like to think no institution in the country is safe from me.”

I had to think about this long and hard a while ago, and Nicola Walker’s Ruth from Spooks | MI5 is still probably my favourite character in anything.  It’s tough.  But RUTH.  I love her so much.  There’s a S2 DVD commentary with Howard Brenton and Nicola Walker on her first episode and basically Nicola just sits there going, “I love Ruth.”  And I’m: “ME TOO.” From her first appearance, dropping the files, buggering the Home Office, and breaking the desk lamp to more serious, angsty, later stuff, she’s just so damn good at her job (and in Spooks that’s a tragedy waiting to happen).

It’s really hard to list only 10 though.  I’m an all-eras Doctor Who fan.  I’d need three posts at least just to start on that, I keep falling in love with characters from ancient telly and every now and then I even watch new things...

[drooliesblog]

Dante x Lady Week 2020 prompts

Compiled these prompts together with a singular concept in mind because THIS 👏 IS 👏 ALL 👏 I 👏 EVER 👏 WANT 👏 FROM 👏 MY 👏 OTP.

 These are written as snippets of the prompts, some new and some as continuations with a rather common theme. They’re all not suppose to be interconnect and act as one-shots of their own except for two. I didn’t have much time during the week to write every idea down but damn was I thriving thinking about these concepts and AUs. Please let me know which ones are your favorite!

Royalty:

Lady chokes back her tears when she finally sees the bluest eyes stare right back at her. A second ago, they were closed and she honestly believed they would never open again. If they did, they would have been a different color, not something this beautiful.

“The curse is finally broken,” he croaks from the weight of her body on top of his, gently moving her and the tears with his hands. His human hands. Despite finally being able to sit up, he has to catch her in his arms and fall back down. He doesn’t really mind, it doesn’t matter how sore he is. It’s just… it feels so awkward to be so human after years of being a devil, he used to treat her with careful touches due to his strength but now it feels like he needs to be the one treated gently.

“I thought you died” she says after her calms down, they’re lying down in the midst of fire and destruction from their fight with the evil wizard (her father) who cursed him to begin with. The Lady Knight traces over his features, admiring how different he looks now. How princely he seems to be, fitting for the fate of ruling his kingdom… with someone more queenly. Someone not her…

Steeling her heart from their possible future of separation, Lady moves her hand away from his face but he takes hold of it. Placing her palm above his heart, she realizes where he’s going with this. He can’t be doing this now, she doesn’t have the heart to say no if he does. So she speaks up first, before he can break her resolve.

“Dante I can’t, we talked about this. I’m not cut out for this, never been educated to rule a Kingdom. Being a queen is not the life for me.” There, she said all she can with her resolve still strong despite the quake in her voice.

“I wasn’t raised to rule either, younger twin remember? Besides this kingdom has been without the royal family for a long time.” As he spoke, he uses his free hand to guide her to look up at him, his thumb tracing the fresh scar by her jaw.

“Dante… what are you trying to say?” She’s not trying to be hopeful, to be so selfish when all she’s been through was for the sake of the kingdom and the people that cried for help. But oh, it feels so good to feel this loved and safe.

“I’m saying forget Dante the Prince, everyone else has and let me just be Dante. Your Dante.”

Chase:

They were walking hand in hand, the sand between their toes under the twilight of the night sky. Both are recounting the game earlier that Lady instigated, she laughs when Dante brings up the smoke grenade she threw at him earlier.

“Speaking of, I think I see it. Hold up” he says while letting go to move back. She clasps both of her hands together at his release, still feeling and already missing the warmth of his. She admires the moon reflected on the sea while waiting for Dante to come back to her side, but she doesn’t want to admire the moon in silence so she quips up.

“You can’t seriously be mad about that, the grenade was harmless and I needed to get the upper hand if you’re going to be chasing me.”

“Not mad, just wanted another memento of how crazy I am to always go after someone like you.”

“Hey now- son of a bitch,” Lady is completely speechless when she turns around to admonish her lover. He’s down on one knee, the pin of the grenade is held between his fingers like a ring.

“I’ve been chasing you since we first met and I ain’t ever gonna stop. Will you let me chase you forever?”

Western:

“Still mad sweetheart?�� Dante has to raise both hands up now, trying to diffuse the situation he landed himself in. Despite his life being in danger, he still has time to appreciate how much of a beauty she’s become, wild back hair cropped above her shoulders. Angry bi-colored eyes accompanied by the scar across her nose. He would wax poetry if he knew how, but he’s been an outlaw for a long time with all his manners beaten out from the wild west. He thinks she should at least know how pretty she is, so he lets out a low whistle that only earns him another bullet grazing his cheek. Same spot from the shot she made earlier, well damn she’s got aim.

“You stole from my father and made me an orphan on our weddin’ day.”

“He was a bad man, Mary. Bastard had it comin’ and you know it.”

“Didn’t let me finish cowboy and don’t ever call me Mary again… Ain’t my name no more.” He has to bite his tongue or lose his head for real when she gets up real close and puts that barrel right against his forehead. There’s honest to god real anger in those eyes, hurt too if he looks any closer than he’s doing so already. He keeps himself real quiet by finding some of his lost manners and waits for her to finish.

“You left me at the altar, didn’t take me with you. You know I would’ve… I could’ve, still can you know… but you ran off and I was alone. Only had your Ma’ to keep me company when I lost everything. Even name, but that was choice. Think about it, still think you got the right to come back after all this time, Dante?”

“I…believe I did, still do but Law didn’t agree so much, would’ve hanged me for killin’ yer old man… I tried to ya know… to get you that day but they already were expectin’ me. Settin’ you up like bait… I still want to… if you do… It ain’t right what I did, but that don’t mean I still can’t now. ” He’s careful to remove the barrel when her gaze softens and her strength against him relents. It’s awkward now, when Dante’s been gone for so long but feelings are coming back like a water breaking down dam. He’s glad she’s still so understanding after all these years. Maybe still loves him even…

“What do I call ya then if not… well…” He asks tentatively, taking off his hat to groom himself a bit more presentable. She shrugs, lowering her rifle in silence. Nervously, he tests out her patience and forgiveness.

“Then… how about Missus Dante Alighieri?”

Bodyguard:

“Can you stop pacing like that?”

Mary looks up and past the bars that holds her to see the monster –devil-boy she thinks spitefully- that her father summoned from the depths of hell to keep her imprisoned. He’s so bored that the chair he sits on should be breaking from the precarious angle of him pushing the back legs at. He hasn’t stopped leaning that far back, using only his propped legs as a tether to a table full of empty cups and scattered cards. He may be skillful in the art of lazy guard duty but the chair is old and will give out. When it does, she’ll be there to laugh at his stupid face since it’s just themselves to keep each other company.

“No,” she answers back petulantly, bringing her nose up in disdain and the devil rolls his eyes.

“You going back and forth is giving me a headache, just take a nap or whatever. I can’t believe I accepted this deal.” The last part, he muttered underneath his breath but she heard it anyways. Curiously, she goes up against the bars of her cell and peers out to read his expression. His face is human, but she’s seen what he’s capable of. Knows that his albino appearance cannot fool her from where he’s truly from and that she’s out of her depths if she thinks she can defeat the demon.

“Having a change of heart? Feeling bad that daddy dearest wants to sacrifice his only daughter for power?” She sneers, her lips twisting into a snarl after openly declaring her fate.

“Well… yeah, I don’t really wanna screw the world over… or you even.” His answer took her by surprise, what was that? She has to stare at him, long and hard to find any lies to his admission. His blue eyes staring back now, a look she recognizes as regret and she can feel anger bubbling out from the mockery that is his turnaround.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Why are you even doing this? Following that man’s orders. Just free me and get lost then!” She has half the mind to beat him with the chair right now.

“I can’t… the deal was that I’d keep an eye on you and I get a bride in return, else the contract breaks and I’m dragged back to hell.”

Mary scrunches her nose, her life was on the line and the devil wants a wife. Yeah, she’s definitely justified in the chair beat down. But… she can use this to her advantage, her guard in red is giving her an opening. She just has to get at his level, make a bargain better than her father’s.

“My father said to keep me from running away right?… it’s not really like you’re breaking the contract if I’m willing to go to him… you’ll still be watching over me. Like… a bodyguard of sorts. Did he say anything about me stopping him from ending the world?” She smirks when she sees how much he’s perking up at the word, bodyguard. So she’s got a hero-wannabe devil… she can work with that.

“You have a point there, I won’t be breaking the contract if we… look at it like that, didn’t say anything about stopping you from going to him… but there’s still the bride issue…”

She deflates, still with that bride-bullshit… ok minor setback. “Why does having a bride matter so much, I thought souls were the kind of things you guys prefer.”

He rakes one hand through that silver mop of hair and finally gets up from his position, walking over to her. She definitely has his attention now, she can make him change his mind. “Not my kind of thing really and I just want some sort of love in my life. It’s lonely in the business.”

“Then how about me?”

He’s definitely looking at her now, brows furrowing to an unreadable expression. She can’t stand the silent stare and continues with her sudden proposal.

“I don’t want to die as a sacrifice, you want a wife without going back to hell. If we go by that logic then contract still stands and we all get what we want.”

“You sure you want this?”

She gulps, but she’s not backing out of her proposition and keeps staring him straight in the eyes.

“Just protect me as I stop my father.”

Past/Future:

“You know what? Future looks pretty good.” Nineteen year old Dante declares Forty-whatever Lady, who’s sitting at his desk on his chair like it’s her’s. He knows what’s up and he likes what it might mean. He can’t explain why he’s in the future or how he got there… at least not yet, mind’s still foggy from some sort of magic.

But he’s not so out of it that he can’t recognize the furnishing he bought not too long ago from his timeline. He knows what his business looks like and the years hasn’t changed it one bit. The only new additions he doesn’t recognize are the women who occupy the space. One being Trish, his mom’s clone and the other being Lady… who he has to assume might be his significant other. Like he can’t not be with a woman that gorgeous. At least he hopes that’s what she is to him when she’s looking that damn fine and in control behind his desk, on his chair like that. It’s like twenty-whatever years into his future, sounds like a good time to settle down with someone, he thinks. Especially if that someone is her.

He wants to know how important she is to him, to older him. It’s only been less than a day since they got acquainted after showing up in this timeline, and he likes her. He like likes her when she’s so funny and crass and doesn’t give one damn about things. She’s cool like that.

She also got him pizza, his favorite kind.

Lady quirks a brow to his words and replies with that same crass attitude of her, “because I’m treating you with pizza? Don’t hope too much, I’m not that generous with you.”

He laughs, not too put off by her teasing. Now he really wants to know how much of an item they are. He tries to, but words don’t come out when the alternative pervades his mind and he shuts down. He likes the idea of being with her a little too much that if they’re only just friends and he has to hear that kind of reject from her, it’d hurt like shit. But he’s curious and a tad restless with his anxiety that he excuses himself to go to the bathroom.

He knows his way around that he manages to find his room on his way not to the bathroom. It’s not locked and he peers in to see his bed neatly made. Yeah… no, he doubts he’s neat enough to clean his bed even at Forty. Carefully, he enters the room and snoops a bit more. He’s both delighted and disappointed to know Lady sleeps here but only because of the bags that contained her clothes and weapons. It shows how temporary her residence is when the only clothes in his closet are just his, so it doesn’t really say a lot at what they are. There’s not even a picture of them together, if he’s enough of a sap to keep a picture of his mom then it can’t kill him to have a picture of them together.

He solemnly swears to remedy that when he goes back to his timeline and finally meets his Lady. Then it hits him at the revelation to his thoughts, so if there’s nothing that says what they are out in the open, there might be something hidden instead. Dropping on all fours, he looks under his bed to find a hidden compartment. He spots a small familiar latch and reaches deep under to open it, just his luck that something actually does fall into his palm. Something not his usual stash of cash. He gives himself a congratulatory fist pump for buying a bed with a hidden safe and using it for something not money in the future.

“Whatcha got there, kid?”

Dante’s startled to hear Lady in front of him that he doesn’t have time to register what is in his hand. By the time he’s straighten himself up, both he and Lady are staring at a red velvet box that he’s holding out. Oh fuck.

He opens it to see a golden band.

“Oh fuck,” the both of them swear.

Role Reversal:

Through the rubble of the wreckage that is Fortuna, Dante carries Force Edge nonchalantly above his shoulder, he saunters over to the stoic older figure in the middle of it all.

“I guess I should thank you…”

It’s weird to be indebted to the man in the navy dusker when hours before Dante impaled him against the statue of the legendary, Virgil. Nero turns around to face him, showing that stupid smug grin of his that irks and amuses Dante to no end. The old hunter scoffs and waves off Dante’s gratitude, telling the young Knight that he had his reasons to do what he did. Reasons to look after the long lost son of his deceased twin, Sparda. A reason Nero can’t bring himself to reveal to Dante after all that has happened. At least not yet.

Dante is surprised with Nero’s goodbye when he makes his way out, it’s not tenderness behind the Hunter’s word but it’s the lack of persistence of the return of Force Edge that was clearly still in his arms.

“Wait,” he called out “you forgot this.” And he presents the sword out but Nero shakes his head.

“Keep it.”

“What? Thought this meant a lot to you…” The weight of the sword feels so much heavier when Nero shows no sign of wanting it back.

“That’s the kind of gift worth giving. I’m entrusting you with it so what you do from now on? Your call.” Dante’s touched and honored at the answer and watches Nero finally make his exit. The young knight finds himself lost in his thought while drawing Force Edge back into his devil arm, he wonders if they’ll ever meet again. He hopes so, there’s something comforting and familiar about the Devil Hunter.

“So…” A voice calls out behind Dante and he turns to see Mary in her knight’s uniform.

“This the end?” She asks while adjusting the strap of her sword. The splattering of blood that stained her uniform indicates her recent dealings with the monsters that now lurk about in their city. Dante doesn’t have the strength anymore to fight with Mary about putting herself out there when he just saved her from being Sanctus’ living battery. Telling Mary to not risk her life for others has been a lost cause since they were kids and god damn, he loves her more for it.

“Maybe,” he says but the end to what? Despite the city being a wreck, he still sees a better future. From the look in her eyes, she’s thinking the same thing.

“We’re still alive…”

That’s true… they’re still alive but not the same. He’s not the same, not human anymore and the thought shames him to know she might choose to reject him because of his damnation. But he has enough resolve to respect her wishes, he always will. He brings up his devil arm, grasping it with his human arm, trying to find the courage to voice his fears.

“Mary, if I’m a demon and not a human anymore… would you still-” he’s finding it hard to look at her, afraid to see the look of disgust. Mary is strong, proud and above all else, honorable that Dante can’t bring her down when he’s become what she’s sworn to kill.

It’s her hands that takes a hold of him from the fear that could swallow him whole, its firm with a resolve that is reflected in her eyes. He sucks a breath in from her sudden affection, everything right now is giving him the kind of hope that makes him lean in to her touch.

“Dante you’re you…” she’s stepping in close to him, bringing up their joined hands in reassurance. “And it’s you I want to be with and I don’t know anyone who’s as human as you are.” He does everything in his power not to mess up the moment, because he can be an ass and now is not the time. Not when he’s fishing out his pocket to return to Mary her mother’s necklace. She gasps and leans forward to let him clasp the only family heirloom she has left. Someday he’ll give her something more than just a necklace, something to fit her finger and really cement what they really mean to each other.

Homecoming:

The Sparda twins are flooded with a sense of relief upon seeing the neon lights of Devil May Cry, after months of fighting in hell a little bit of peace was a nice change of pace. A little bit of peace being a rundown building in the seedier side of town. Dante’s not complaining about it and Vergil will just have to grudgingly suck it up, because home is home.

Dante perks up to see the women in his life sitting inside, and with Vergil finally by his side the family picture that he never knew he wanted is starting to feel so real. He has to wipe his nose to reign back any tears, he’s not going to freaking cry in front of Vergil.

When he’s certain he still got his bravado, he claps behind the other man’s back and goads him to go further. There’s a look of warning to not pussy out or start a fight with Lady and Trish. His twin is gracious to give him a scoff instead the usual verbal threat of bodily harm. That’s what Dante calls character-fucking-growth.

With everything falling into place in his life, he swears to protect this weird family and keep them together or die trying. He has a nephew, friends to call upon and a brother who’s not dead.

Then there’s Lady…

She’s jovially responding to whatever Trish must have said because the blonde is moving her head back and looks to be laughing now. She’s at such a good place right now, far from the days of Temen-ni-gru and recklessness. Well she’s still reckless but so is he...

Okay, maybe they’re reckless with the lives they lead but that’s the perk of the job not something detrimental to their health, so he thinks… But that’s beside the point. The point is that there’s Lady and he wants something more to make this family picture in his mind more…

More…

More tangible…

“Dante?”

That’s not Vergil speaking to him… He snaps out of his thoughts to see that asshat inside Devil May Cry and talking to Trish while his dear brother was left outside in the cold. He’s out in the cold alone, or not alone because there’s Lady right there in front of him.

Oh.

“Heeeey Lady…” He totally did not lamely greet her like he hope he wouldn’t. She offers him a smile, and he’s still being lame because he’s certain his own is coming off crooked and awkward. In no time, he takes her into an embrace, making up for his lack of charm and she returns his hug by wrapping her own around his shoulders. It feels so good to feel her this close that he lifts her from the ground to pull her closer. She can’t walk away when she can’t touch the ground. Heh heh.

They might as well be like this for eternity, he wants them to. Stay like this and probably die like this too as long it’s something she wants as well. His eternity ends though when she looks up and asks to be put down. He’s reluctant at her request, but the look in her eyes has every wisecrack he could think of die on his lips. He obliges by letting her feet drop to the ground, still holding her but she’s moving out of his grasp and it feels so empty to have her move away like that.

“Lady I-

She stops him by getting on one knee and presents to him a familiar ring he’s kept hidden from her before his venture to hell.

“Son of a bitch!” He swears, he can’t believe she’s beaten him to the punch. He’s not even upset that his careful planning is ruined by her taking the initiative because now his family picture is finally complete.

[moderately-ok-trash-bin]

Three OTP Questions

So I just kinda spontaneously decided to write this for my two favourite OCs because if I don’t force myself to talk about them now then I never will. Sooo here’s the first one, my Altmer Dragonborn Aradove.

1) How did they first meet?

‘Must keep going. Must remain vigilant. Dragons, the Thalmor, the Imperials, bandits, beasts... any or all of them could appear at any time. I won’t be truly safe in this land until I can make it so. Rid Skyrim of the dragons and the tyrants, show her people they can trust me, and show my people that peace and coexistence is possible. Then I can go home... then I can rule a land of prosperity and growth, instead of a land of foolish supremacy and cruelty. I’ve been given this power by the Divines, and I’ve been given it for a reason. It is up to me, and me alone, to end the cycle of senseless violence that has plagued Tamriel...’

It was thoughts like this dominating my mind as I rushed through the forests and cliffs of the Rift. While I couldn’t help but feel excitement at the rush of the wind, the smell of the trees and the river, and the sounds of the untouched wilds all around me, the weight of my purpose kept my face unflinching as stone. Ever since I’d fled Summerset and, after narrowly evading execution upon reaching Skyrim, learned that I was the prophesied Dragonborn, things had been different. I was no longer a disillusioned princess with no desire to be the figurehead of a regime that rejected all ways of life but their own, but a destined hero who must bring about a new age. And this was a destiny I knew I must take seriously. It is up to me to herald in a new peace for both those it is my birthright to rule, and those is is my birthright to save. That is all that matters. Nothing less than that would satisfy me.

My head snapped to the side when I heard a faint but deep snarl in some nearby grass. I drew one of my two steel swords, and in my free hand, sent a fire bolt hurtling at the Sabre cat that now charged at me from its hiding spot. The animal screeched with rage as the flame hit the side of its face, but it did not slow, leaping into the air to attack me. I narrowly blocked its huge paws with my blade as it landed, deftly shoving it to the side and drawing my other sword in my free hand. As it dashed in to try and rake me with its claws, I inhaled sharply and, focusing my energy into my voice, I used my Shout. ‘Fus’ echoed slightly around us as the beast staggered, giving me the opening I needed to move in and put my swords through the animal’s chest.

I stepped back, briefly wondering if I’d ever get used to the feeling of using my Shouts. They were unlike anything I’d ever felt, some deep, complex knowledge in my very soul that manifested as power. This was the Divines’ gift to me, the gift that uniquely allows me to deliver this world from calamity... I’d never before imagined that such a power could exist in me...

I suddenly became acutely aware of the reality of my current situation. I’d been careless, lost in thought in the middle of the wilderness after using the most attention-grabbing power at my disposal. I’d let my guard down. I was vulnerable.

Too late.

The second Sabre cat slammed its paws into my chest and nearly knocking the wind out of me as I whirled around, claws digging into my leather armour as I winced and dropped one sword, hastily bringing the other one up toward my face. I heard the clang of bone against metal as I barely managed to put my sword between the animal’s massive teeth and my throat. I tried to push it off of me, but to no avail. It had me pinned and I was in no position to use any of its strength or even my own against it so I could get up and fight on. Magic wouldn’t work either, as I needed to keep both hands on my weapon to keep the creature at bay.

I felt my heart drop in fear. Would this thing tire before me? I was already straining to keep pushing it back at the poor angle I was forced into, would it tire before me? How long would I need to stay here? What if it outlasted me and I died here? A chorus of ‘no’ echoed within me, yet try as I might to Shout again, the power still needed time to recharge. I winced as the pressure on my chest began to register at the same time that I tried to push the Sabre cat off, closing my eyes tightly to try and distract myself from the peril of my situation, instead focusing all of my energy into trying to escape and save myself. I had no idea how long I was there. A second? Two minutes? Didn’t matter. I only snapped back to my senses when I heard a muffled cry of pain from the Sabre cat, followed by the complete removal of the pressure crushing my chest as I opened my eyes to watch the beast slump over, a shining steel greatsword being pulled from its side.

I sat up, and after looking to the Sabre cat that had just nearly ended my life just to make sure it was truly dead, I gazed up to see who it was that had come to my rescue. What I saw triggered a landslide of things within me that I could not begin to understand.

My mysterious saviour was a Nord man with dark brown hair and a short beard. Black war paint framed his eyes like tear-streaked eyeliner. He wore a type of armour I’d never seen before, with more furs and a more brownish tone of metal, and some metal wolf heads adorning the torso. After briefly looking him over, I gazed back up toward his eyes, and I became distinctly aware of both his disdainful expression, and the Imperial woman in studded armour behind him. I tried to find the words to say, but before I could, he addressed me.

“Are you alright? That thing was damned close to ripping your throat out.” Instinct told me to bite back and tell him he had no idea who he was talking to, but I refrained, only just remembering I needed to keep my identity a secret.

“I’m fine. The thing simply caught me the second I dropped my guard,” I replied, attempting to keep my composure despite the strange feelings welling within me. My face felt warm and my heart was beating faster. I glanced to the ground, briefly wondering if I’d contracted a disease from one of the Sabre cats...

“Hmph. You can’t just be complacent out here, elf. Do that, and you’re sure to get torn apart,” he sneered, my face flushing further as I looked at the annoyed expression on his face. I gritted my teeth subtly at the implication that I was just being foolish.

“I’m not a fool, I know that. It was simply bad timing to lose focus. There’s been much on my mind these past few days,” I replied, standing up and sheathing my blades.

“Hah. An off day, hmm? Of course.” I could feel the sarcasm dripping from his words, his disbelief in my abilities clear. I decided it was time to take the focus off of me, before I felt like I needed to give a demonstration.

“Those matters aside... I must thank you for saving me. You have my deepest gratitude. May I ask who you are?” I inquired, attempting to summon up the regal politeness that was drilled into me as I grew up. The man stood with a certain sense of indignance and pride as he introduced himself.

“My name is Vilkas, a member of the Companions in Whiterun. This is my Shield-Sister, Ria. We of the Companions fight for honour, glory and coin. We take the burdens of people who don’t feel up to defending their own honour,” he said confidently. I had heard mention of the Companions before, both rumour and small talk in Whiterun, and the famous Five Hundred Companions of Ysgramor from my history lessons. Things had changed drastically over time, it would seem. Yet this thought’s importance in my mind paled in comparison to the still-rapid beating of my heart. Something about looking at this man gave me such a rush. I had no idea what I was feeling, and at that point I was beginning to fear it. All I knew was that I needed to get away, and quickly.

“I see. Once again, many thanks for coming to my rescue. I must now return to my travel, but know that I will not forget your help.” I turned to leave, Vilkas giving me a nod of acknowledgement as I walked away. Once I had passed through enough forest to be out of his sight, I leaned against a tree, bringing one hand to my chest and the other to my still-red face.

‘What on Nirn is this feeling...?’

2) What did they think of each other at first?

Aradove was immediately attracted to Vilkas, but she had no idea what she was feeling at first, so she was suspicious of him because of the effect he had on her until she figured out what it was. Vilkas, on the other hand, thought Aradove was just some stupid elf too full of herself to be aware of danger.

3) Were they immediately interested/attracted or did that come later?

Aradove yes, definitely. Vilkas though, only began to take a shine to her as she rose through the ranks of the Companions later on in her story and proved herself strong, honourable and level-headed.

——————————

Oh my god I did it. I wrote a whole OC post. And I don’t hate it. Whattt

@hircines-hunting-grounds @curiousartemis

Idk what do you guys think? I hope you liked it :)

[bollywoodconfessions]

sanjay dutt?

Why I like them: This is a bit tough, not because there are no reasons to like him lol, but because there are multiple reasons to like him. Actually, what I feel for this guy is immense love, the kind of love that I cannot explain, just something that I feel very strongly, but anyway let me put this into words.

Sanjay Dutt is someone who has a very endearing inner core. He basically seems like a child underneath a big 6 feet body, and this much I can decipher just by watching him perform or watching him offscreen. His eyes are the windows to his soul, and they reflect nothing but beauty, his smile is one of the most cute, genuine and childlike smile I have ever seen.

God bless this laughter!

Another trait that I admire about him is his honesty, he is not afraid of judgement, he says it like it is, and says it like a boss. Openly confessing to doing all the drugs in the book or confessing to sleeping with 308 women are not at all easy things to confess.

And might I add that most people I know are forgiving towards all these confessions, because at the end of the day he is Sanjay Dutt, and he will be loved, regardless of what he says, he has a hypnotising charm, once you love him you cannot stop.  

Sanjay Dutt is not politically correct, he never has been, and he never can be, that is why his interviews are intriguing and fun. We are all like Anushka’s character in Sanju, intrigued with the honesty and impressed with the personality.

Sanjay Dutt is someone who has amazing amount of mental strength. If anyone else was in his position he would probably be in deep post-traumatic stress. However this guy is made out of steel, in spite of it all he managed to have a good career and a good life. Kudos to the resilience. Kudos to the person.

Instead of crying about all the trauma, he bounced back, he forgave people, and continued to be the loving and jovial person he is. There is nothing that can ever stop his zest for life.

He is a brilliant actor! And I love the kind of cinema he stands for! I cannot stress this point enough! I don’t know if my words will be able to do justice to his talent! But hey let me give it a shot!

Sanjay Dutt is truly a natural actor, he feels his character, nothing about his acting is ever “put on” that is exactly why all his characters, whether good or bad, are so impactful to the audience, like Hrithik once rightfully said:

“There are a very few actors who seem like they are feeling their character, and Sanjay Dutt is one of them. He scared me while we were shooting for Agneepath. I was like do you actually really hate me?”

I think Sanjay Dutt is the kind of actor who puts his soul in the character he plays, that is exactly why people like me are able to form a great connect with all his characters, you are able to feel for them deeply, because it is portrayed with a lot of soul. Like the great Nasseerudin Shah once said:

“Sanjay’s eyes can reflect real pain, unlike any other young actor. This is because Sanjay has already gone through so many experiences in life, experiences which have contributed to him being a good actor already. A good actor is one who can add to his range as he goes through various personal experiences in life. This look of pain endows Sanjay with both vulnerability and raw power on the screen.’‘

Some of his fans also do a rather amazing job at describing the vulnerability that Sanjay brings to all his roles. Exhibit this:

“The more I watch Saajan the more I am struck by how deep an insight into his soul Sanju gives us in his (at times heartbreaking) portrait of a sensitive poet. How much suffering, despair and loneliness can be seen in his eyes when he is overcome by mental anguish! In my opinion, for the understanding of Sanjay Dutt as a human being, Saajan is as important as Naam.”

I don’t think any amount of quotes can do full justice to the talent this man has, but let me just put it this way, I honestly feel every emotion he goes through in almost every performance of his, he is able to communicate so much even without saying a word, he is one of those very rare actors who does not have to overdo their performance to be effective. I think he is damn underrated, and so are some of his movies, some of them are legit masterpieces. Although, a lot of his characters do have a cult following, especially the characters Raghu (Vaastav) and Munna Bhai.

However my favourite performance of his is quite underrated, and that would be of Inayat Khan from Mission Kashmir.

This movie is amazing and deserves a lot more credit then it gets. Sanjay Dutt’s acting in it is terrific, his performance in this movie always moves me to tears. Not once does Sanjay Dutt’s acting  gets “dramatic” but it is still so impactful. He doesn’t say much yet his eyes have so much to say. His random outbursts of sadness, anger and anguish is something that is to watch out for. And like his every performance he puts a lot of himself in the character. Inayat Khan is not perfect, but he has a good soul, a heart that is in the right place. Inayat Khan is most of the time full of strength and is the protector, however that does not mean he is not capable of crying like a baby when it hurts way too much. Honestly I see a lot of Sanjay Dutt in this character, it is a character that was meant to be played by him. Sanjay Dutt is a potent mixture of vulnerability and strength and so is Inayat Khan, and that is exactly why the character comes alive, the character feels very real and it moves you at every moment. The character is portrayed brilliantly, and even though Sanjay Dutt did win some awards for it, I do not think this movie and his acting in it got it’s credit. This movie is ahead of it’s time and is an underrated gem. It makes for a splendid watch. Too bad it came at a time when romances and comedies were the “in thing.”

He is extremely Humble and Passionate:

Sanjay Dutt was no.1 in Bollywood when he got arrested in a very controversial case, just when everything was finally looking up for him it all went completely downhill. After showing support, many producers and directors decided against casting Sanjay Dutt in their movies. From being no.1 and to having all the success that he deserved, his career went to a minus due to a huge controversy.

Not only this, but for 1.5 years he stayed locked up in terrible conditions. If this happened to any other actor they would have collapsed, nothing is more important to a Bollywood actor than success and their ego, this sudden rejection after massive success is not an easy pill to swallow, especially not for a narcissist. Thankfully Sanjay Dutt is not one. He came out, did whatever work he got and made his way up again.

And he did not work hard or work in a zillion movies afterwards to prove a point, but just because he believed in doing his work with love and dedication, nothing less and nothing more. He did his karma and didn’t care for the results, and that is the kind of passion for work  and humbleness that everyone should aspire to have.

as Mahesh Bhatt once said:“One of the things I loved about working with him was the relief of finding an actor who is not narcissistic. I remember thinking during Naam: This guy doesn’t give a damn about how he looks on screen, he leaves it to the cameraman and just goes and does what he’s supposed to. And this in an industry where men (and macho men, not just the pretty boys) go to huge lengths to control how they look on screen — lighting, best profile, best angle — spend hours, like women, in front of their mirrors before they give a shot. Not Sanju. It was a relief to find a male who was not in awe of his own physical form. I don’t think I’ve found an actor who fits that bill in all my life.”

Why I don’t:  He doesn’t know how to sell himself.

Favorite film/scene:

If I have to choose one scene, it would be the scene in Mission Kashmir in which Inayat khan gets furious with his wife. Inayat Khan is a person who has always been extremely supportive towards his wife and clearly loves her a lot. Hence the anger that he has towards his wife in that scene is more about the hurt he feels, as he feels betrayed by someone who is very close to him. I think after suffering so much in life, this angry outburst sums up the hurt and despair he has been going through for so many years. Even though he may be in the wrong here, the outburst seems so straight from the heart, and is so raw that you cannot help but feel bad for him. I think that is a mark of a great performance. Sanjay Dutt’s characters are never politically correct, but because his emotions are so raw and are so honest, you cannot help but just root for him, and see things from his perspective. I mean he even made one feel bad for his character in Khalnayak, even though he was completely in the wrong throughout, again I empathised the most with his character in that film when he has an angry outburst regarding his Mother. Sanjay Dutt’s angry outburst in most movies are about him portraying an explicable amount of sadness and frustration, and I look forward to such scenes of his. His anger displays his vulnerability, and that makes for a great watch.

Favourite line: “Mujhe jo iys desh se mohabbat hai, woh kisi IS officer ki mothaj nahin” (Mission Kashmir). I also love the song he has sung for his movie ZINDA. The song is called “Kabhi Muskurake” and that song kind of sums up his life.

Favourite outfit: He looks hot in everything he wears, I am quite a fan of his late 80s and 90s fashion though, the beautiful long hair, a nice white shirt, and a nice pair of jeans on his tall legs is always a winner!

OTP:Non-romantic definitely him and Govinda. They are a laugh riot, they have created some of the most epic comedies together!

OTP: Sanju has shared great chemistry with everyone, but I think I will only ship him with me! LOL

Unpopular opinion: Sanju is mainly known for his intense action dramas or comedies, however I feel he is extremely underrated as a romantic hero. I think Sanjay Dutt always shares amazing chemistry with his female costars. I think his height and big broad shoulders make him look very attractive, and to add to that he has this cute child like innocent face to go with it. He is like every woman’s dream man. I think he is very underused as a romantic hero. Great love stories could be made with the intensity he has. I love when he hugs his heroines, he always closes his eyes while doing so, it is very cute.

A wish for them: Do more great movies

An oh-god-please-don’t-ever-happen for them: Don’t get caught in any controversy again. Please stay safe and happy. I cannot see you suffer anymore.

5 words to best describe them: Honest, Passionate, Innocent, Sexy and Beautiful.

My nickname for them: Sanju