#she also doesn’t remember the names of most of the characters

[ladypeonies]

"Acting is a dangerous profession."

credit.

Some people will watch this extract and just brush if off perhaps as fanservice and miss the point completely. What I like about Chris and Xuan it’s how candid and honest they are about the whole process.

The host says it all, “acting is a dangerous profession,” and both actors agreed. She’s right. So many fans don’t get it, and they focus on the superficial. It’s not just a dangerous profession in Asia. In my opinion it’s more challenging there because most of entertainment industries in Asia rely a lot on Method acting and immersion. You have notice how they call themselves by their character names, on and off set and it has several purposes. I won’t dwell on them here because this post would be too long.

And you have method acting which I have several issues with. It’s basically psychology. I’m not going to write an essay on it here, it basically means one can convince themselves of anything and you can become anyone you want. It’s becoming someone else entirely for a time, by changing your habits based on your environment. You study a character and become them, by assuming their point of view, mannerism, state of mind etc. If they drink you start drinking, if they love someone you love them too etc. Some actors are strongly against method acting for a reason and stick to use their imagination which is way safer. In a live Xuan talked about how physically and mentally it impacted him.

You are still yourself but you can’t escape your character, their emotions bleeds into you. And you use it to play the best version of them by using your body. Of course, Xuan fell in love with his co-star and had all those “evil” thoughts. He learned to fall in love with him and make him the centre of his universe. The preparation for the role, to build a bond took longer than the whole filming.

So, any actor in their shoes will feel the same, if they say no well, they are either lying or just bad method actors, that’s it, no in between.

The trick is to use those emotions while filming and then to be able to let them go. And that’s the issue, because for many it takes time to do so and get rid of them. Notice how Xuan doesn’t say while they were filming NC scenes he had evil thoughts but he was sitting there, so before or even after. The thing is if you hold on to those emotions it can hurt your mental health. They can be addictive. Under those circumstances sometimes there is a co-pendency which appear between actors. I remember an actor explaining how he basically went through a heartbreak because he got attached to his co-star who was engaged to someone else and he was full of emotions for his on-screen partner. And those emotions weren’t there before they started filming. And they knew each other, they were friends before and he never felt that way about them. And his mind knew they weren’t a good match but he kept longing for them.

I talked here about the bubble actors found themselves in. And the best remedy to get rid of those feelings, thoughts are a healthy distance, and being back to oneself. I hear often, “they’re just acting, it’s their job…” etc. Actors aren’t robot. There is a process to play a role and they all have a process to get out of a particular challenging role. Obviously, all roles aren’t the same.

Another thing: Chris and Xuan are friends and were friends but under the circumstances, they don’t have the same friendship they had before filming, the one from a year or two years ago. Friendship 101 had specific boundaries, and now there are new ones in friendship 201. It’s not possible to know the taste of your friend’s mouth, their skin, and be in the same exact friendship. Actors are not robots there isn’t a reset button. Now there is a new set of boundaries. Perhaps before there wasn’t any skinship now because there are use to each other touch, there is more skinship. Before they wouldn’t talk about certain subject, now they can. I believe they gain and also lost some things. The only possibility MAYBE to go back to friendship 101 would be a complete separation for weeks, reset. But it’s not happening because there are promotions and also, you get use to seeing each other all the time, I guess.

Now method acting and falling in love, it happens of course, but has to go through the test of time and distance.

One has a girlfriend/boyfriend and start method acting with a co-star LOL. 9 out 10 people will break up with their significant other, the GF or BF will leave, it happens all the time.

PS1: I also took the opportunity to answer a couple of asks.

PS2 :Translation by Wava please be kind to your translators and grateful for the work they do, I personally hate translating it can be so taxing.

[dawllick]

Have a random blurb (Lucy pov only, more of a character study maybe…)

Lucy and the ghoul spend time together, they have to going on the worlds most bizarre road trip.

And she thinks he’s going to be cruel to her, as he has this far. She’s mentally prepped herself for it.

But what she doesn’t realize is that she’s been the first bit of pure humanity he has had in a while. She had unintentionally breathed some life back into him.

This doesn’t make him nice, he still swears, teases, and even threatens her still. But the threats are empty and they both know it.

She doesn’t know when she starts to think of him more, but she knows she is when she’s asking for his name. He hesitates to give it, or maybe he doesn’t remember. She gets no response.

Lucy spends more and more time with him. Sometimes they sit in silence, comfortable in it. Other times they bicker, and on slim occasions they argue. But every once in a while, Lucy gets him to talking about before.

Not about family, but other things. She asks him about animals, cars, music, and other things that died out. He will start off nonchalant but have a spark of joy in his voice as he rambles on.

Lucy gets him to laugh once, and not to mock her. It’s funny, his raspy laugh makes her smile. She knows it’s a rare moment, and a small part of her is thrilled she made him happy. Small victories.

Funnily enough, she finds herself liking various aspects about him. His brutal honesty hurts, but she’s so appreciative of it. His way of letting her handle herself, especially in a tight spot.

But she also enjoys the moments where, she does need his help. He intervenes only when necessary, he’s verbally terrified people who looked at her with malicious intent.

“They were gonna harvest ya.” He’d say with grim confidence.

It’s when he realizes they need to leave a bad situation that she knows more has come to her heart. She talks the people down and as they turn to leave his hand ever so lightly goes to her lower back. He does not grab or place his hand, but his glove rubs against the fabric of her suit.

It sends a delightful chill through her.

Lucy chops it down to them being on the road, and getting out of a dangerous situation.

But later, they pass through a town. And it’s no different, same looks of her, a vault dweller traveling with a ghoul. He walks a little closer, and occasionally puts a hand on her shoulder while looking around.

It’s not a grand gesture, but it still comes off so damn intimate.

That same night Lucy can’t sleep, her heart and mind race with new thoughts, new implications. Did she have feelings? Were they returned? She knew they didn’t have time for this. Lucy for once does not try to initiate with the ghoul. She’s afraid she would spook him.

The next morning she lies and says she couldn’t sleep due to the chill of the night air. The ghoul shrugs and tells her she’s welcome to sleep closer to him, as his body temp runs high due to his condition. She would just need to have a stash of rad-away.

She feels silly, because she isn’t going to turn that proposition down. She also needs to remember how to act calm. She hits him with her most convincing line and a smile.

“Okie dokie.”

Sleeping, rather trying to sleep next to the ghoul was harder than anticipated. The dog had grown attached to him, and tried to wriggle her way between them. Lucy doesn’t mind, she finds it cute and feels better with the dog there.

But she can feel his warmth, and smell the leather, the smoke, and something else. When her head starts to droop, she tries to not pass out on his shoulder.

Instead she wakes up and they are tangled, but more so from her doing. She wakes to find her head in the crook of his neck, one hand splayed on his chest. Lucy has also hooked one leg across, and between his legs.

She looks up to find him still sleeping, hat pushed forward. His jacket is laid across her, and his right arm is lazily wrapped around her shoulder.

It’s here where Lucy accepts she does have feelings for him. But she’s not saying anything until they get to their destination. And the sad thing is, Lucy doesn’t know if he feels anything back. And for once, she doesn’t plan on asking.

It becomes their new routine, sleeping next to each other. And for the most part, it’s Lucy trying to pull him closer. He says nothing, and places one arm on her. The novelty wears off, and she gets comfortable.

Everyday is a danger in the wastelands. People would try to kill you, animals, the weather, and hell even your own body.

Lucy remembers falling asleep, but she wakes up insanely groggy. She feels wrong.

The ghoul is hovering over her, and is holding her face. He’s speaking, but it’s muffled. He pulls a tranquilizer from her shoulder.

“Lucy!” His voice breaks through. Not killer, not sweetheart, not darlin’, Lucy. She smiles and reaches up to his face with her hand. He looks bothered, and stands up before she can reach him.

He leaves her, and she doesn’t know how long. Dogmeat is there. Lucy can hear loud things happening. The fog she was in begins to fade. Gunshots echo all around, screams reverberate, and the only thing missing is the ghoul doing his usual banter.

Lucy feels fear as she realizes he must be hurt, and she wills her body up. It’s slow, but she gets there.

Dogmeat walks in front as Lucy stumbles, holding to the wall for support. The gunshots getting closer.

And she finds him, and he’s alive and upright. A look of fury on his face. He doesn’t see her, but someone else does. Whoever it is grabs her ponytail, and forces her to her knees. She lets out a yelp, and the world shifts as she lands.

The fog was still clearing, and her body didn’t feel like hers. She didn’t know how to move it, or she would be kicking this person’s ass.

The yelp brought attention to her though.

“Lucy.” The ghoul breathes, before baring his teeth. A low growl rumbles from him.

“Do as I say or-” whoever it is that had her hair, starts but stops as the ghoul whips his gun and shoots him. No playing around. The body falls with a thud, and their weapon falls away.

He rushes towards Lucy, his face softening. He doesn’t say anything while helping her stand up. He tries to step back but she doesn’t let him. She pulls him in for an embrace, he is surprised by the motion. But she finds his arms wrapping around her.

In the remaining fog, she doesn’t know who needed the hug more.

But the ghoul changes, he starts to revert back. He’s quiet, he doesn’t put his arm around her, and in public he barely acknowledges her.

Lucy hates it, and wants to confront him. He doesn’t give her a chance. He scours and tells her to “fuck off”, he threatens her and there’s an edge in his voice.

Lucy goes back to sleeping alone, and her dreams become vivid. She dreams of the vault, her brother, her dad, her mom, but worst, her wedding night.

Some of them have her wake up, crying. Tears rolling down and chilling her face. She misses her mother, her brother, and partially her father. Or rather the version of him she knew before.

She should have known back on her wedding night. Seen the signs.

One night she doesn’t dream, she has a nightmare.

Lucy feels herself open her eyes, but she’s back in her home. The vault. It’s freshly cleaned, and ready for her. And Monty. She looks down, and gasps. She’s back in the wedding dress.

The dress is rumpled, but it’s clean. She needs to leave she knows what happens next.

Lucy tries with all her might, but she can’t move. Her breathing speeds up, and she can’t scream for help either. The false moonlight filters in the room, and for a moment she thinks she is alone.

But she can’t see in the shadows.

A lithe figure steps from the shadows. Monty, his face fine. But he looked wrong. He shouldn’t be alive.

“Lucy, did you think you would get a happily ever after?” He says, keeping a intense stare on her. She can’t speak, but a strangled sob leaves her. Her body refuses to move for her.

As Monty advances, a new figure appears in the room. She keeps her eyes on Monty, one thing at a time.

She watches as he slowly crawls up the bed, and his features distort, taking on a haunted appearance. His flesh began to sag and turn, making him look dead.

“Don’t worry honey. I’ll keep us safe. This is our home.” Her fathers voice says from the shadows. Monty recoils and faces her father, who uses the shovel again to attack Monty.

With a sick smack, Monty falls and stays down. Hank looks at his daughter, and a flurry of emotions swirl in his eyes. Rage, bitterness, sadness, fear, and love.

Before the nightmare can progress, Lucy wakes up, gasping, crying. The ghoul is holding her, and she sags with relief. She cries for a few minutes. Her tears were from the nightmare, from anger, frustration, and sadness.

“You alright?” He asks, when her breath for the most part evens out.

“You’ve avoided me. Been mean again. Why?” She asks, she’s not expecting a confession but she would like a friendship or basis for one at least. She doesn’t answer him because they both know she isn’t alright.

He shifts and tries to get up.

“You’re fine. Go on.” He says, and he’s trying to get rid of her.

Damn spooking him, Lucy was tired of it. She holds onto him.

“Why are you trying to get rid of me? What did I do?” She says, anger rising in her tone.

“Sweetheart you better let go and drop it.” He warns and grabs her shoulders.

“Maybe I don’t want to!” She yells.

“Yeah? And why not? Are you so ignorant to see you aren’t wanted?” He growls out. She bristles.

“Are you so ignorant to not see that I want you?” She seethes and it’s like he’s been shot. Lucy holds his gaze, and he goes quiet. The menacing look and sternness gone.

“I don’t even know you’re name, but I want to be with you. I want to see you smile, like really smile! I want to hear you laugh, I want to know your name, and say it, scream it at you. I want to hold and be held, I-” she rants trying to get her point across.

His lips find hers in a deft move. It’s sudden.

He pulls her close, her chest pressing hard against his. His hands grasping at her through her suit hungrily. Her hands grasp just as desperately at him.

He kisses her, and the kiss is a little rough. But it’s in character for him, he wasn’t the type to be gentle. Lucy knew what she was getting herself into. They kiss, and she doesn’t know how long she holds onto him. But he pulls back so she can breathe.

Her head falls into his shoulder, and he’s panting a bit as well.

“M’name is Cooper.” He tells her.

[foreos]

hatchetfield characters rated on how much they like sonic the hedgehog

- paul matthews: 7/10 i think just based on his age and personality he played like sonic adventure one as a kid and enjoyed it but hasn’t really thought about it since. if he were to play a sonic game again he’d be like “oh i remember this guy! silly :)” he does not like the chaotix.

- emma perkins: 5/10 i can see a young emma being Violently Opposed to sonic and never playing it or engaging with any content. and then at some point ziggs or even paul has her play one of the games with them and she’s like “Oh Wait This Is Fun” but idk if she’d ever consider herself a fan.

- bill woodward: 1/10 he cannot remember sonic’s name. he is completely ambivalent because he doesn’t know what that is. he’d have an appreciation for tails if he knew he existed

- charlotte sweetly: 0/10 he creeps her out. i think there’s so much going on in her life that there is no room for sonic the hedgehog.

- ted spankoffski: 10/10 he also played the games as a kid and still enjoys him though he does not advertise that at all. in college he and jenny did smoke and play the entirety of sonic 06 together. he probably hasn’t really played them since at all since it contrasts with the new everything. he watched sonic underground.

- henry hidgens 0/10 he doesn’t trust sonic.

- melissa: 11/10 she loves sonic and you can interpret that however you want

- john mcnamara: 0/10 i cannot imagine this man with a game controller in his hands.

- tom houston: -10000/10 he is a technophobe and sonic frustrates him. he finds the characters annoying and tim keeps having to beat the levels for him and he doesn’t know why sonic is looking at him like that at the end of every level.

- becky barnes: 8/10 she just thinks he’s the silliest guy. i think becky would like sonic and the black knight and get a kick out of the gimmicky motion controls. i like to picture becky having stupid fun it brings me joy.

- lex foster: 0/10 no time for that also that’s kind of dumb also also where are his clothes.

- ethan green: current 1/10, potential 10/10, ethan has never touched a sonic game in his life but i think if he did he’d be hooked.

- hannah foster: 5/10 she has never touched a sonic game and isn’t really a video game person but she has nothing against the guy.

- frank pricely: 9/10 i think frank watched SatAM as a kid and the franchise is special to him even if he doesn’t really engage. probably drew pictures of sonic and tails as a kid.

- linda monroe: 1/10 it’s beneath her. linda probably doesn’t like video game and i think she’d find everyone really fucking annoying. river likes sonic though :)

- sherman young: 1000/10 but he’s not fun about it. if you like something he doesn’t then you’re fucking stupid. why does sonic have a sword. why is sonic in a car. i don’t know sherman. he refuses to play a lot of the games and is very much a purist about a lot of shit. he hates silver the hedgehog sooooo much.

- zoey chambers: 0/10 would shame sonic likers.

- miss holloway: 5/10 sonic is too nineties for her eighties but some of the kids she’s worked with liked it and she has nothing against the guy.

- duke keane: 8/10 i think like becky he would enjoy stupid fun.

- ziggs: 10/10 i think ziggs is a sonic fan. and i’m not saying that just because they’re a furry i think they’d genuinely like it. they are not good at most of the games though, they usually can’t make it past the typical sonic late game difficulty boost. ziggs hasn’t read the comics but they might have watched some of the cartoons, you know?

- rose: 6/10 i think she would have a lot of fun if she played the games but it’s never gonna be something she gets super into. sonic games do tend to have fantastic soundtracks so maybe she’d eat that shit up.

- daniel (stopwatch): 100/10 he really likes sonic. sonic is his kind of guy. i think daniel is a big shadow fan.

- sophia (spitfire): 5/10 she has nothing against the guy but she doesn’t know who blaze is or why daniel keeps bringing it up.

- pete spankoffski: 12/10 he inherited ted’s old games and LOVED them. he doesn’t really engage with the non game media but i think he’s played like most of the games.

- stephanie lauter: 2/10 what’s this nerd shit? weird :/. i think she’d like it if she tried it.

- richie lipschitz: 10000/10 he loves sonic. he loveeeeeees sonic. he has read the comics he has seen the shows he can name all the characters. richie knows the lore. richie used to have a crush on sally acorn. richie can go on the worlds longest rant about sonic forces okay it just never ends. he thinks shadow is The Coolest Guy and he embraces the franchise wholeheartedly.

- ruth fleming: 1000/10 she likes sonic a lot. she knows so much about all the games and she loves going so so so fast. i think she also read the comics and watched the cartoons and i think her and richie argue about it like all the time. she does have a thing for rouge the bat AND shadow and i think she has a little plushie chao keychain on her backpack.

- grace chasity: -10000000000000/10 she HATES sonic she hates him so much. he fills her with so much rage she fucking hates his ass. number one sonic hater.

BONUS:

- wiggly: 0/10 this game is hard to play with tentacles

- blinky: 5/10 he doesn’t really care but watching the hedgehog go zoom is fun

- tinky: 10/10 he loves this shit he wants sonic to go FASTER

- nibbly: 0/10 he doesn’t care he eated his controller

- pokey: -10/10 he thinks sonic is an attention whore and only he gets to do that

- webby: 100000/10 webby would like sonic do you see the vision do you see it. i think webby eats that shit up.

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

I am dangerously close to assigning little witch characters genshin visions and weapons

[fromevertonow]

Suzanne Collins is one of the few contemporary writers who realizes the importance of names in her stories and the significance they bear. They add so many layers to the story, additional meanings that otherwise would not have existed.

The original trilogy:

Katniss: named after a plant of which you can eat the roots. Her father taught her where to find it and told her that “as long as you can find yourself, you’ll survive” (quote may be a little bit off, but it’s from one of the early chapters in THG). Additionally, the leaves are in the shape of an arrowhead, referencing her skills with the bow which her father also taught her how to use.

Peeta: literally bread lmao. But bread is one of the basic nutritions humans need, a little bit goes a long way to keep you alive. Peeta’s presence in Katniss’s life also kept her alive, literally and figuratively—the burned bread he threw her in the flashback and their complicated relationship.

Primrose: a plant with medicinal purposes, even more significant in light of her work as a medic in Mockingjay.

Gale: literally means “strong wind” and considering that in every encounter with Katniss he’s caused some reaction, he pulls her into directions she maybe initially doesn’t want to go in. Additionally, his name also represents his determination and steadfastness in his beliefs.

TBOSAS

Lucy Gray: named after William Wordsworth’s poem “Lucy Gray” which is about the titular character of the poem who got lost during a blizzard. She literally got lost in snow. Rachel Zegler sang this poem in two parts on the original soundtrack of the movie. When Snow asked who the girl in the song is, Lucy answers that she’s a mystery, just like her.

Snow: aside from the obvious snow references, I think his name is most significant in relation to Lucy and the poem. The only one who knows what caused her disappearance is Snow. He is the reason that Lucy is gone. But her traces in the snow are still visible. He will always remember her because the memory of Lucy has manifested itself in every part of his life.

Coriolanus: named after the Roman general (and also the titular character of Shakespeare’s play), Coriolanus wanted to attack Rome and become its ruler. He was scorned and celebrated by the people, only to be later exiled from the city by them. In TBOSAS, Coriolanus is the star pupil at the Capitol’s academy but sent into exile to the districts after he won the Games with Lucy through cheating.

Volumnia: Coriolanus mother who played a part in his ascent to power. In TBOSAS, she almost serves like a mentor to Coriolanus, teaching him how to think in terms of power.

(Edit) Sejanus: a roman soldier who was betrayed by the roman emperor Tiberius, just like the future president betrayed him.

(Edit) Plinth: got this info from here, but it was too good not to include here. A plinth is a base for a statue or vase to stand on. After Sejanus’s death, all of the Plinth fortune was given to Snow for being such a good to friend him. It was this money that skyrocketed the Snow family from poverty to filthy rich. The Plinth money was the foundation upon which Snow built his power.

There are so many other names that have historical (mostly Roman and Greek) connotations—Plutarch, Seneca, Cinna—but also regular names like Trinket and Beetee bear meanings that represent the character beautifully.

Names are important. For any lover of literature or (aspiring) writers, please look closely at them. They can shape your story into something unique.

Feel free to correct me if I’ve said something wrong. I know there are many names missing, but I can only add so many examples ✊🏻😔

[onthecrescentofthehill]

I feel like this is such a key moment in Shuro and Falin’s dynamic that i’ve never seen talked about and wish was mentioned again in canon. ‼️THIS IS NOT A SHIP POST‼️ for clarity but to me it adds such an interesting layer to how Shuro must feel towards her and the imbalance in their relationship…..

So much of his character is feeling alienated and inaccessible to the people around him, at first in his own family and then culturally after he left home. the party doesn’t even know his actual name. he’s under so much pressure and could feel like anyone Knowing another side of him would compromise his obligations, and partly why he resents what he views as Laios’s compulsive earnestness so much. but at the same time I think him seeing how much patience and love she has for Laios makes him wonder if he could be safe with her. and in the caterpillar scene he sees Falin finding beauty in something others find repulsive and inconsequential (plus in the recent Adventure Bible we learn he also has an interest in critters….)

I’m not sure when the caterpillar scene takes place in relation to his nightmare, either way she literally enters his subconscious and saves his life!! I’m so so so curious about the details tbh. I can’t imagine how humiliating that would feel but at the same time it took away the need for him to confess any of his weaknesses, Falin took it upon herself and the most Insane part to me is he probably doesn’t even remember what she saw, because Marcille didn’t remember the content of hers. and there’s no way he’d ASK, and Falin wouldn’t volunteer that information.

anywayyyyy Shuro knows she’s seen the deep pain and loneliness at his core and guided him out. he wants that, he DID get it, but doesn’t know HOW!!!! so of course he’d try to chase that in reality and he would feel an intense closeness with her because she’s the only one who who’s Literally Seen that side of him, one that he might not have a full realization of.

it rly captures this imbalance between them that I think Shuro really wants to bridge even if he’s unequipped for it, and Falin doesn’t reciprocate. like. You See Me, Can You Please Show Me What You See? he knows, factually, that she could understand and help him. but he only offers to make her “comfortable.” and at the end of the day she does for him what she would do for anyone, often at great risk to herself (imo her desire for independence in the AB demonstrates her wanting to break this) he knows this and it would be enough, he even admires that about her greatly. but it doesn’t leave much room for her own self actualization.

I don’t have a conclusion other than thank you Ryoko Kui. thank you.

[reiderwriter]

The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 

–X– 

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 

–X– 

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 

–X– 

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 

“I love you, please don’t cry.” 

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 

“Why did you run away the other day?” 

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 

“Y/N, please.” 

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 

[lelengerine]

now playing... "show and tell"

pairing | basketball varsity!chenle x artist!reader

synopsis | draw a pretty boy and perhaps he'll come to you.

genre | just literal 3 am fluff thoughts, bball player chenle slight brainrot, no specific prns are used (lmk if there's anything i've missed!)

wc | 0.9k

notes | so... i'm back and it's been a long while 😄 kinda forgot about tumblr for a sec but i hope you guys still remember me TT i was pretty much in a slump + acads were crazy, however!!! i am back!!! somewhat!!! likes and feedback are always appreciated (also new post layout yayy)

m.list

the air inside the school’s gymnasium has always felt humid as it clings to your skin like a damp blanket. the place has the distinct scent of sweat — entire buckets of it actually — while the occasional skid of sneakers on the rubber floor sends involuntary shivers down your spine. it’s hardly a place one would choose for peace of mind, yet here you are, perched on the bleachers, busily drawing on your sketchpad all because of a boy.

honestly, you wouldn’t be willingly subjecting yourself to this either if he wasn’t so… pretty. he sported vibrant orange hair that matched him well, the tips sticking together from the sweat on his forehead. his cheeks were flushed from from the heat, but that didn’t bother him one bit as he energetically ran around the court. but it's his smile that captivates you the most, its brightness rivaling that of the sun, his eyes forming playful whiskers as they crinkle into crescents — a sight you've translated onto the pages of your sketchbook more times than you’d like to admit.

how were you supposed to turn down drawing someone like him as an art student? one that’s in an art slump no less.

curse all pretty men, you tell yourself as your pencil scritches over the surface of your sketchbook.

you weren’t even acquainted to him one bit. in fact, you’ve only learned of his name around a week ago? it was zhong chenle if your memory serves you right.

your friend had told you he was the famous ace of your school’s basketball team, mostly for being able to make shots from such large distances. she was shocked you weren’t even aware of the boy when he was usually the talk of the entire student body, especially during the time championship season rolls around.

hell, you don’t even care much for the sport, but he’s making you second guess that too with the way he moves so effortlessly — like he was made to play this sport. perhaps you could understand the infatuation many others harbor for him… just a tiny bit.

you continue your sketch nonetheless, stuck erasing and re-drawing a certain line that doesn’t want to bend in your favor. it seems to have taken all of your focus, as you don’t even register the sound of footsteps approaching you. a tap is placed on your shoulder, and you turn around to find the exact boy you’ve been drawing for the entirety of his varsity practice.

“is that supposed to be me?” his words are laced with intrigue, accompanied by a gentler smile than you're accustomed to, yet just as captivating in its own right — wait. why is he even here talking to you? peeking at your drawings no less?

“nope. it’s not.” you lie through your teeth without an ounce of hesitation, flipping to the cover of your sketchbook faster than he utter out another word.

“please, who else even has orange hair here?”

“who said the person i was drawing was even real? for all you know, he could be an anime character.” you counter, trying to deflect his curiosity.

“yeah, totally explains why you’ve been hanging out here more lately.” he retorts, raising his finger in mock admonishment, his playful smirk betraying his teasing tone. “don’t think i haven’t noticed you, cause i have.”

“what are you? some security guard keeping records of the people who come to the gym?” you muse, meeting his gaze with a hint of amusement.

he leans in a bit closer, voice lowering conspiratorially. “well, maybe I've been keeping an eye out for someone who appreciates my... what should i call it? anime character potential?”

your heart skips a beat at his proximity, but you maintain your playful demeanor. "oh, is that what you're calling it now? i just needed a little inspiration and the confines of the art room weren’t doing it for me.” technically what you said is true, he doesn’t need to know that he’s actually the main reason your artist block has subsided.

his grin widens, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “inspiration, huh? well, i can guarantee you'll be entertained with me around.”

“you don’t need to keep me entertained, i do that already on my own.”

“oh yeah? by watching me?”

“you just want to fuel your ego, don’t you.”

“maybe a little.” his eyes smile, voice taking on a teasing lilt, "what else have you been sketching lately? any other anime characters i should know about?"

you laugh, a nervous pitter patter dancing in your chest at the prospect of sharing more of your work with him. these were your prized possessions after all. "oh, you know, just the usual. random doodles here and there."

he only beams at your response, leaning back slightly as if to better admire your reaction. "well, i’d love to see more of your usual sometime. maybe you could show me what else you've got hidden in that sketchbook of yours."

the invitation catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. "uh, sure. yeah, maybe sometime," you stammer, mentally kicking yourself for not sounding more confident in front of him.

but before the conversation can continue, a shrill whistle cuts through the air, signaling the end of chenle’s supposed water break. he glances towards the court, a regretful expression flickering across his face. "looks like i’ve got to go," he says, pushing himself off the bleachers and standing up. "but hey, don't forget about our little art show-and-tell date, okay?”

hold on, did he just call it a date? "hey, wait a moment-" you try calling after him, yet he's already disappeared onto the court. that wasn’t anywhere close to a proper invitation, but your heart flutters at the thought nonetheless.

fine, you conclude to yourself — if it’s a date he wants, then you suppose you could spare some more time for him.

[cinnbar-bun]

Watching Reality TV With You (Various One Piece Characters x Reader)

Characters: Zoro, Sanji, Trafalgar Law, Luffy, Perona + Mihawk, Nami, Kizaru/Borsalino, Eustass Kidd

A/n: Sorry I’m a huge fan of Real Housewives so take these silly headcanons!!!

Note: GN reader, the relationships with the character(s) and reader can be seen as platonic/romantic depending on what you prefer :) Mihawk + Perona’s relationship to each other is also not stated just for your personal preference. These are all just very silly things, don’t take this too seriously since it’s crack!

Zoro

“The hell? Why are you watching this crap? It’s not even real!”

He just sighs and grumbles about how this is dumb the whoooooole time.

Tends to sharpen his swords or try and nap while it’s on.

Until lowkey he starts peeking a bit like ‘did she just say that?’

Suddenly has opinions on it and tries to deny he’s interested but his eyes are GLUED once they start arguing and the suspenseful music is playing.

“Well, if I was her, I think I’d just kick them. Or maybe cut their car in half.”

Sanji

Opposite of Zoro. The man is probably a bigger fan than you and most likely is reading the gossip online.

It’s your weekly night hangout where he brings snacks and cozy blankets for you two to sit and enjoy while watching.

Gasps audibly and loudly.

He’s both the best and worst to talk about this with because he respects all women and he forgives them for everything, so they all get passes from him.

“Yes she may have talked badly about [name] and stole [name]’s house and maybe crashed a car. But we all do that. We need to show forgiveness. She’s having a tough time- her dress came in the wrong color.”

Law

Like Zoro, he’s very disturbed by the very prospect of reality tv.

But he’ll try. Let it be known he’s trying.

He doesn’t get interested in it but he does try to follow along so he can discuss it with you.

Not gonna lie though he’s the guy who’s focusing on their plastic surgery or illnesses.

Will literally pause the show just to examine what they may/may not have done and if the surgeon botched it up.

Imma just manifest this, he’s prolly a Terry Dubrow stan.

“Who’s your favorite Housewife so far?” “Terry.” “But… Terry isn’t-“ “It’s Terry.”

Unironically would drop a horrible quote from whichever show you’ve been watching and he’d say it so seriously that everyone’s jaw will drop and it takes him a sec for him to realize what he said.

Luffy

Imma keep this short for you- he ain’t looking.

He ain’t caring.

No thoughts.

He only cares when there’s a party and food is being served.

“Woooooah! Look at all that food!!!”

Doesn’t even recognize who is who and will just mindlessly wait for food to come on screen.

Perona + Mihawk

I’m putting this as a two for one they’re my everything <3

You and Perona are the ones who watch it lots. Perona does complain about how much they argue but she loooooves looking at the houses and clothes of the women. Makes comments about wanting to fly first class or visit the beautiful places they go to.

Mihawk is reading.

Perona is biased as hell and only defends the people that are wearing cute clothes. Otherwise? Shit list.

“Ugh! What is that dress?! It’s so hideous!” “Is that all you’re focusing on?” “I agree with (Y/n), Perona, she just had gotten into some relationship troubles with [name], so I think [name] is wrong.”

You and Perona are gasping and shocked that Mihawk 1) talked and 2) had an opinion on this???

Turns out the man had been listening the whole time (he’s quite the multitasker).

If Perona is the most biased viewer, Mihawk tries to remain objective and impartial. He's always listing out the nuances of a conversation.

“I think [name] is just jealous.” “Well, if we remember in season 4, episode 14-“

He’s a smart ass sometimes, but it’s okay, he’s our smart ass.

Perona is always enthusiastic about marathoning the shows again and watching it. She tends to do dress up requirements for watching it.

Nami

I’d hesitate to call Nami a “fan” of reality shows.

She’s aware of them, yes. Does she particularly care for it? Nah, not really.

They’re more background noise and eye candy for her.

She just likes putting them on and glancing every once in a while to gaze at the beautiful houses and trips.

“Oh that’s so expensive… imagine what you could do with all that!”

Sometimes has a fun game for herself to estimate the cost of an outfit, accessory, or house. It’s scary how accurate and detailed she can get with it.

Tends to mostly focus on fashion and get new ideas to steal- I mean, incorporate.

Doesn’t have strong opinions on the cast, but she isn’t too crazy about the louder members.

Kizaru/Borsalino

He’s heard of it, he thinks.

And, well, since you’re so into them, he’ll give it a watch.

“Oh my, these ladies are incredibly wealthy and beautiful.”

He’s not even ogling them he’s just amazed at the way they dress, behave, and/or decorate their spaces. It’s almost like being starstruck???

The guy who will pause the tv at certain scenes to point at random decorations or outfits and be like “darling, would you like that?”

He does get sad when they start to fight.

“Aw… I was just liking the party… why are they arguing now?”

His favorite cast member is your favorite one <3 he’s just a cheerleader like that, dear.

He could listen to you talk about it for hours if you wanted, and he’d be amazed by your knowledge.

“You know, if you’d like for me to have you be on a show like this, I could probably pull some strings!”

Kidd

1000000x worse than Zoro

I cannot recommend putting it on in front of him.

“The hell is this shit?! Turn it off!”

You refuse and now he’s stuck watching grown women argue over dumb things (in his mind).

Complains the ENTIIIIRRRRE time. Nonstop commenting and complaining.

Okay but he’s hooked after a bit, the drama is just too good.

But now he’s WORSE cuz he’s got OPINIONS and THEYRE ALL SHITTY!

This man is an instigator. I swear to god he’s just saying shit just to rile you up and be contrarian.

He's stanning the biggest menaces on the show.

You two will probably get into (very silly) arguments about some of the situations and people.

And unlike say, Sanji, who tries to defend a person, Eustass will just say you’re wrong and then add something unhinged to it.

“Naw you just don’t get it. If I was her, personally, I think I’d just burn their mansion down and then slash their tires.”

[artist-issues]

I remember during the making of Tangled, the filmmakers said they had to work hard to design Rapunzel’s tower to be beautiful and seem like a cozy, fun environment, while also making Mother Gothel seem sweet and loveable, if manipulative.

Because, they said, if the environment is too much like a prison, and Gothel is too much like a villainess, the audience wouldn’t believe in Rapunzel as a character. They’d think she was either stupid or cowardly, to stay in such a nasty situation without trying to escape sooner. But if her circumstances seem just livable enough, just sweet enough, that you can see some of the appeal, then you wouldn’t blame her for waiting so long to leave.

Why didn’t they do that with Wish?

Why didn’t they think that relatability through?

Nobody is really feeling compelled to root for the everyday Rosas citizens during the movie. You don’t feel like rooting for Asha’s cause, or even Queen Amaya’s. Because you think to yourself, “why did it take the townspeople so long to ask the question ‘why can’t we just have our wishes back?’”

Asha comes up with those culture-breaking questions, inexplicably, in the first twenty minutes of the movie. It takes the rest of the townspeople about 24 hours to suddenly start asking that, too.

So why don’t you root for them?

Because when something bad happens to them, part of your brain goes, “why didn’t they see that coming, though? Why didn’t they ask questions? That one’s a little bit on them.”

And you don’t really feel that feeling you got with Mother Gothel, where you were like, “Oh yeah, I can see why the main character trusted this villain; the villain really seems to care about the hero, if you didn’t know what she was after.” You don’t;t get that same feeling with Magnifico. Because the whole idea of what he does—by erasing people’s memories and yelling at them and having no moments with regular folk where he’s warm and personal and building trust—is so malicious that we don’t believe the other characters couldn’t see it.

We COULD HAVE believed it. If they’d added in good writing and character moments to make it believable.

When Magnifico interacts with the people who trust him and are duped by him, he’s up on a stage, flashing superpowers they don’t have and then disappearing back into his tower after only granting one wish. He’s not on the welcome tour with Asha. He doesn’t know his own palace staff by name. He’s done nothing to build the trust all the side-characters unquestioningly give him. So even at the end, when everyone’s like, “aw, we wanted to believe in Magnifico,” we don’t feel it. Because didja? Why? Everyone could see that coming.

Meanwhile Mother Gothel tells Rapunzel she loves her most every time she leaves. She laughs with her. She reinforces every conversation they have with the idea that she’s desperate to protect Rapunzel. She brings her her favorite soup as a surprise and remembers the ingredients. She goes to get white paint on a very long trip so Rapunzel can paint. She compliments her strength and beauty—even if it’s backhanded. She calls her “dear,” and “darling.” She knocks thugs out with sticks, returning even after she argued with and supposedly ‘gave up’ on Rapunzel, all to supposedly’ protect’ her. So when Rapunzel realizes it was all an act, and she’s wrathful and furious and grabs Gothel’s hand, we DO feel it. Because we believed that Rapunzel really didn’t see this coming, so the shock stings worse. We don’t blame Rapunzel, and we do blame Gothel.

Just another example of what #NotMyDisney forgot about themselves.

[gorejo]

▸ UNDER IS ALWAYS THE BEST VIEW- RORONOA ZORO.

synopsis: As someone aspiring to be the greatest swordsman in the world, it was rare for Zoro to look up to someone. yet he finds himself looking up at one person — a feat he's never willingly done for anyone. maybe this is the only way the king of hell can also experience the goodness of what heaven is like for a devil like him.

content: 2.2k, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, unedited, petnames (baby, angel, sweetheart), unprotected sex, mention of alcohol/getting drunk, mention of bodily wounds (zoro).

As someone aspiring to be the greatest swordsman in the world, it was rare for Zoro to look up to someone. In the minuscule number of his ten fingers — his pride not letting him go past the five digits in his left hand — Zoro could most confidently name those few that he looked up to — Mihawk, his old Sensei, Kuina, and dead man Ryuma — each name endowed with honor in his mind. 

Each time he drew his katanas from his right hip, he remembered. With every battle that he was the successor of, he remembered. Every enemy he met that mocked his fervent passion, he defeated in remembrance of his goal and his promise to Luffy – for the future King of Pirates was worthy to have the Greatest Swordsman by his side. 

With every training session he had, with puddles of sweat pooling as he tore every fiber of his muscle to get stronger, always lifting those god-awful weights in the crow’s nest, he remembered. 

He remembers that there was always one goal in mind: to be the greatest. And he takes great pride in that.

Even if he did look up to someone, placing them in higher regard of influence compared to others, it took a lot for the swordsman to acknowledge his defeats, almost every time forcing him to his knees with multiple gashes to his skin, bruises, and blood — much apparent in the prominent scar that runs deep from his upper right chest to his stomach — an honorable wound he’ll now reminiscent on, with words few as he cleaned his swords, “scars on the back are a swordsman's shame.”

Thus, you’ll never catch Zoro ever running from his opponent, and never will he willingly allow himself to be placed under someone besides Luffy. Like an animal set to kill, eyes locked, he’ll chase and stand his ground — especially when it comes to protecting his Nakama — his people.��

But, despite everything about Zoro that should object to him willingly looking up at someone, allowing someone else to take control over his body as he simply lays rest, he’s come to rather enjoy it — no, it drove him absolutely maniac. 

Because Zoro never had a chance to actually look up to someone — well, physically that is. 

Maybe it was the sake that he drank not too long ago that caused his mind to swirl, and his body to react in ways outside his normal stoic character. His hands reached for places he’d normally be ashamed of doing in public, releasing a deep groan from the pits of his stomach as he flexed his strong abs, looking up with cheeks heated with a hue of tainted rose, chest huffing for air as he forced his spit down his dry throat. 

But it was odd, he recalls he didn’t drink too much compared to the usual copious amount of alcohol he doused himself with. But then again, even without alcohol, he would willingly find himself in this position — you on top of him, as he watched you grinding your hips as you clenched on his pulsing length, gripping onto his sweaty chest as your nails dug into his skin, tiredly panting absolutely gone from the remnants of the past orgasms he’s fucked out of you.

Zoro doesn’t think you can look any more beautiful, so beautiful as you push yourself for more of him, for him to reach deeper inside and settle himself into the depth of your inner walls and never leave. 

It’s almost cute how you try to take control. And it makes his cock twitch a bit when he sees how difficult it is for you to even wrap your nimble fingers around his thicker wrists, but yet you try — albeit, with a little whine you unwittingly pull out that makes him weak. He’ll give you the world, maybe even sacrifice the title of being the greatest, if he could hear his name being softly moaned out your lips. 

“Zoro,” you mewled out, your thighs burning from the rounds you both fucked, “c-can you help me?” you pleaded with eyes filled with tears, staining your pretty face as your words barely made it out of your lips.

“I thought this was your favorite part,” the swordsman teased, one hand quickly finding refuge to grip your ass, while the other played with your hardened nipple. 

Zoro lied, for the King of Hell this was his favorite part.

Sometimes when you felt risque, he’ll cave into your needy whines and invite you up to the crow’s nest when he was on night duty to fuck you. Romantic he thinks, as he pistols his cock inside you while watching the waves lightly crash against the Sunny Go, the sheer moonlight being the only source of light for you both – your ass perfectly highlighted by the sweat, the sheer light dimly illuminating the stretch of your swollen pussy had wrapped around him so snugly. 

It’ll be a lie for him to deny that the thrill made his blood pump to his cock a lot faster than normal. Fucking in secret, raw and sweaty was his vibe. 

“Ngh, ‘Ro… s-slow –” 

His hand muffled your desperate moans – the callous pricking at your skin as he suddenly pushed one finger, two fingers into your small crevice that felt just so warm. 

“shhh, angel,” he growled, his teeth biting the side of your neck, his tongue sweeping up as he heavily breathed against your ear, “don’t want the whole crew to know we’re fucking, do we?” he sounds sweet, yet the stick in between his legs, pistoling deeply inside you as he grunted with every thrust and flex of his ass showed no mercy.

“This is all for me?” he groaned as he pushed his weight to the ground, his body engulfing yours as he continued to push himself deeper in, the slap of wet skin echoing in the humid room, “all” thrust  “of” thrust “this” thrust “is” thrust “for” thrust “me.”

And he pushes, his feet firmly pressing against the floor as he drills himself in and he wickedly stays there.

Don’t get it wrong, Zoro loved fucking you in different positions. 

He loved to see you perched on the wooden floor, your ass high as his hands gripped onto your waists while he thrusts his length inside you, watching every inch of his cock disappear inside your cunt, the shine of your cum coating him pretty. 

He loved fucking you in the kitchen, his hand placed behind your back, pushing his weight down as you desperately held onto the kitchen table. Hearing the sharp smacks of your ass as it rippled with every thrust he made sounded so glorious in his ears. 

He smirks, thinking how it’ll be a nice treat for a certain cook the next time he steps in. 

Even better was when you would reach over and tug at his finger, face flat on his bed as he slammed his cock downward — a knowing signal he’s come to decipher — and who would he be than to deny your advances? Cock twitching inside your gummy walls as he feels you flinching at his tip poking a certain fleshy portion within. 

But the actual best part was when you’d whine, “ ‘ro i want to see you…” 

“Yea?” He’ll rasp out, his head thrown back, teeth clenched as he pulled his feet upward to get a better angle for his cock.

“mhm, I want to hold you,” you softly responded, your breath and words hitching with every pulse of his thrust. 

and he’ll succumb to you — always. because what power would a devil, like him, have over god’s treasure, like you.

So quickly he’ll grab hold of your shoulder, unwilling to pull out of your warm pussy as he changes positions. Making sure not to overwhelm his strength on you, by being as gentle as he could.

Settling into position, hissing when the rough fabric met contact with his marked skin, he’ll help you get comfortable before guiding your pace until he’ll let you fully take control. His deeply calloused hands pricked at your sensitive skin, leaving you wincing at the slight pain as he ran his palm down your stomach, hand placed at the base of your tummy as he lustfully watched you desperately grind your hips while the lewd squelches of your juices melodically resounded in his ears

“I’m all yours princess,” placing his hands behind his neck, his arms flexed and stomach harshly taking in staggered breaths. He’ll watch you with dilated eyes, the sweat on his temple shining in the dark as he scanned you from top to bottom, “so fuckin’ pretty,” he’ll release.

“But ngh,” you shuddered as you felt the tip of his cock graze past a sweet spot, your head thrown back while your hips moved on their own accord, your lungs on fire from the lack of oxygen in the humid room. 

“You gotta talk doll,” Zoro continued to press, lifting himself from the bed, his hand stabilizing your head forward, teeth biting at your skin while his tongue swirled on the denture marks, he'll coax when he notices you struggling, “Breathe, you gotta breathe, baby."

Your arms immediately wrap around his neck, and on cue, his hands surround your waists. “Fuckkk,” groaning from the tightness of your walls rubbing against his cock, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper, Zoro lifts his head up to look at you. 

Pretty, he thinks. and despite having one valid eye to see all of you, he didn’t feel at a loss. he’ll always cave to the rapid pumping of his heart and the unusual intense feeling of emotion that tainted his mind, he knew he’ll have to cum soon.

But if there was one thing that his insufferable cook had drilled into his brain from the countless amounts of time he’d seen him chasing after women was the honorable concept, he’d allow only with you, of ladies first. 

“Almost there?” Zoro groaned, the sweat dripping down his chin as he watched the intimacy of where you both connected — sweaty, sticky, and awfully erotic.

“Mhm, j-just a little more,” you barely whispered into his ear, lightly biting at his lobe as you mustered up the strength to cup his face. 

At the contact, Zoro feels the waves of euphoria and his pent-up emotions leak through his resolve as he melts into your warm touch. 

Sometimes he’ll feel a tear threaten to leave, the knot he’ll feel crawling up his neck as he pushes down his emotions. Like an empty vessel quickly filling up with water and overflowing, he, too, felt the gush of his impending ecstasy about to explode.

“Want me to help,” your partner groaned when he felt you suddenly clenched on his length, your warm, gummy walls pulsating on every inch of his cock. 

“Hold me,” is all you ask. 

And for Zoro, it was more than enough. 

Because at your words, he’ll further pull you down onto his length, yelping at his strength as he had you smothered into his chest, his strong arms fully encapsulating you as your ass bounced with each harsh thrust he made.

He tried to be careful, desperately tried to not use too much of his strength as he tried to gauge your expressions and pants, being mindful despite himself feeling as if he’d burst any moment.

“Where?” he’ll ask, his tone stretched low with a growl.

“I-inside oh god! Z-zoro f-faster, p-please!” you cried out as your fingers grasped onto the ends of his green hair.

you mustve been fucking. He’ll break you if he goes any faster, any harder his logic warned him. 

But where’s logic when it comes to sex?

Quickly repositioning his angle to hit deeper, just underneath the familiar gummy area that had you previously creaming on his cock, he pistoled his cock inside, his wet balls slapping against your ass that was now red from his hand prints.

“Ngh Z-zoro!” you moaned out as you felt his hands suddenly cup your face, “cum now,” your boyfriend ordered.

And under the warmth of your skin, as he watched you finally release your high, taking all of you in as he continued to pump his length inside you as you gasped and cried, desperately thrusting to meet his climax. 

“Fucking shit,” he growled before pulling you down for a sloppy kiss, the force of his hips losing rhythm while your moans became muffled into one. You felt the thick ropes of his cum shoot out and finally coat your inner walls that were carved perfectly for him, continuously pumping his cock to push in his seeds deeper in.

With brows furrowed and harsh breaths released through his nose, tongues tangled warmly as he pushed back your hair and massaged your neck, his hips treading a soft rhythm.

A tear befalls — a single drop he’ll allow. one droplet that contains all the years of the lonesome burden he's carried to be the greatest, years of sacrifice and pain, singlehandedly humbled in the weight of one. 

Slowly unlatching, his lips chasing yours as you softly smile while gently pushing him down. He’ll feel you comb your fingers through his damp hair and lightly hum in love. Tenderly placing a light kiss on his sweaty forehead and laughing as you brushed a tear from his eye.

Zoro once again realizes that under will always be his favorite view with you.

Because maybe a demon like him can experience a glimpse of heaven under the reigns of his angel.

satorins. do not copy, plagiarize, or repost.

comments: cheers to our first one piece fic!!! yipee!! hopefully we can see more of these silly boys in the future ◡̈ but again, hope you enjoyed !!

[sh1-n0bu]

hey hey!! new anon here,,

not sure how to write this but I'll try

could we get a scara x amab reader, with praise, overstimulation, and if you're comfortable body worship? (for scara ofc) i wanna make him cry 🛐

also !! can i be 🍷 anon?? <3

♡︎ 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ♡︎

characters: sub!scaramouche x dom!AMAB!reader

warnings: praise, overstimulation, body worship, dacryphillia, overall very soft and fluffy

notes: of course you can be 🍷anon! slowly but surely clearing out my inbox and thinking on holding a 3k followers event. if you guys have any ideas, lemme know!

wanderer — formerly known as scaramouche, balladeer and the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers — has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything. so when you, his assistant since day one, had suddenly proposed your affections for the angry gremlin he rejected at first.

but that never deterred you. you would try over and over again. asking him out on dates, offering him some help, cuddles if he was being restless and stressed, holding his hand while he undergoes the painful weekly tortures of il dottore — you did it all for him.

and one day, scaramouche did indeed cave in and decided to accept your nth suggestion for a date. it wasn’t like he had liked you or anything, he just wanted to make you shut up quickly. he’s lying, he loved you way longer than you did him.

since then, going out on “dates” had become a usual thing between you two. you two would meet up in certain places, hang out for some time, talk for a bit, hold hands if scaramouche is feeling gutsy enough and say your goodbyes.

it had continued on for so long until it suddenly came to a stop when scaramouche had to go to sumeru with il dottore to take buer’s gnosis. of course the plan worked and the second harbinger came back with the gnosis but no scaramouche.

for some time after that, you seriously thought you were tripping absolute bonkers. everyone kept saying the sixth seat of the harbingers had been vacant and the name scaramouche or balladeer doesn’t ring a bell. you even held an audience with her majesty, the tsaritsa as well and yet she said she doesn’t remember!

that was until you decided to desert the fatui and go to sumeru yourself to find out just what the fuck was going on. it took incredibly long time — sumeru’s rainforest and desert aren’t the most hospitable places for someone so used to the cold like you — but after a whole half a year of searching, you managed to see him again.

him. the one who stole your heart. the one who caused you to desert the fatui despite knowing the punishment would be death. the one that cradled your heart gently in his hand since you’ve been assigned to be his assistant.

and by the archons was it worth the whole thing. to be chased down by the people who were once your comrades. to suffer heatstrokes in the hot desert of sumeru. to continuously get pelted by the rain and thunder in the rainforests of sumeru. by the archons was it all worth it when the moment you two locked eyes. it was as if your first meeting all over again.

by the archons was it worth it when he recognized you, dropping the scrolls in his arms as he runs up to you. it was worth it when he came to a stop in front of you — hesitating. waiting. wondering. before finally muttering “fuck it” and getting on his tip toes to plant a kiss on your lips. it was worth it all — even as you gently broke him down and rebuilt him again a whole new in your arms in the comfort of your now shared home.

scaramouche has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything.

but wanderer was a bit different. he preferred to be alone, alone with you. a bitter tea and your voice going “yuck!” whenever he made you take a sip, lying and promising he put sugar in it this time. a shy stolen glance at each other and a peck or two followed by the silence of each other’s presence. “lonely together” you once called your relationship. he couldn’t agree more.

even as his first time is taken by you — the doll couldn’t be happier.

even as he whimpers and whines whenever you praise him, planting kisses on his skin as he blushed a beet red. weakly thrusting his hips back to meet yours under the dim lights of the lit candles. desperately reaching back, tangling your hair in his hand to tug you down for a sloppy kiss to try and hide his moans when you called him your “good boy”, “pretty doll” and your “one and only”.

a weak sob and sniffles resounding in your shared home as wanderer comes on your cock for the nth time. how many times had he cum by now? he’s too hazy and lust ridden to even keep up count.

tears kept falling down his face as he unconsciously grind back into your cock, wanting more. a cacophony of keens and moans and shrill sound resembling a squeal coming out of him as he feels your tip hit his prostate again. archons, he wanted to feel that again and again. feel himself get broken down by your hands, by your lips, by the soft praises coming out of your mouth, by your dick just fucking into him so good to the point his mind becomes a mush.

when you gently put him back together again — wiping away the sweat and cum staining his skin, when you cradle him gently as you two share a quick bath together, when you wrap your arms around him and hug him close to yourself — the pupet couldn’t help but smile.

a genuine, unadulterated smile of happiness spreading on his face as he hears your words of affirmation. in soft moments like this, the puppet couldn’t help but whisper out weakly in a hoarse voice.

“you, [name], my heart…” before slipping off into a dreamless state.

[ellstronaut]

Going back to this debate

I know Ellle is a multifaceted individual that much is obvious she’s not one dimensional she has many elements to her personality. Additionally, it’s important to remember that even on the spectrum of masculine and feminine, Ellie isn’t completely one or the other. She exists in some sort of grey area between them, embodying both masculine and feminine traits. She’s not defined by one end of the spectrum, but rather by the interplay of these two extremes.

Yet at times the characterisation of Ellie is laced with internalised misogyny. And highlights the way “masc presenting” lesbians are treated in real life tied down to the “man” in the relationship why is Ellie mostly written as the dominant one especially when coupled with fem reader why do we head canon her as a top when it’s literally canon that she’s a switch? Why is there an infinite amount of “ellie taking care of the reader on her period” scenarios outnumber “Reader taking care of Ellie on her period” Ellie written as tall towering over fem reader and not like she’s literally 5’5

The fact is that there’s a heteronormative slant to the way people write her. Like I said almost never written as a switch, but a top. To some extent been portrayed as tall and dominating, never small or vulnerable. And Santa Barbara Ellie is often sexualized even though she is deeply traumatized and emotionally tormented. The problem is that people are viewing her through male-centric lenses, reducing her to an object of desire rather than a fully fleshed out woman with a complex, nuanced personality which includes many dimensions, some of which may be considered feminine.

There is no specific way to be a “masc lesbian” a woman nor feminine and express your femininity. Nor should that separate her from her womanhood/femininity. in a way it’s her way of showing how feminine she is. maybe not stereotypically through outward appearances, but her general identity. she’s a woman who experiences the same struggles that women do, Obviously she doesn’t waver just on the lines of black and white, she’s all rounded. In between. Grey area. The point I’m trying to make is that she’s all and above, you can be both masc and fem. I would add that Ellie's femininity is often overlooked or even belittled by people who only focus on traits that appeal to them. Not her emotional intelligence, her caring nature, her resilience, her dedication to her loved ones. Fuck she’s also a soft heart and a tender soul. These aspects of her are just as important to her character, she is a whole person ffs, exceptionally fleshed out

So fuck

“the hot wife and her hot boyfriend”

Why not

“The hot wife and her hot wife”

“She’s so boyfriend

Uh

“She’s so girlfriend”

Santa Barbara/Seattle is literally at her most vulnerable, disheveled state that girl is literally plagued with trauma, stuck in a limbo of “do I seek vengeance in the name of losing my family and absolutely everything or stay and suffer in silence (at who’s expense?? Hers) Yet we sexualise tf out of her, the most vulnerable pinnacle of existence—glorified and romanticised bc it’s “hot”

this is not a dig at anyone you’re free to write whatever tf you want bro it’s your platform but pls let’s not bs and pretend as of this doesn’t occur

[operator-report]

In middle school, I read a short story for English class called Flowers for Algernon. Maybe you’ve read it, too. In the story, a disabled man named Charlie is given a medicine that cures his disability. Over the course of the story, he comes to realize that his “cure” is temporary and that he will “regress” into being disabled again. The story makes it clear that this is a tragedy. As a disabled teenager when I first read it, the story affected me deeply.

I’d like to talk about David and Noelle. 

Content warnings for discussion of suicide, self-harm, ableism and eating disorders below the cut. Spoilers for Worm through arc 27. 

When I was first reading arc 18, one of the things that stuck out to me is how much time the story spends on Eidolon. For me, it was the first time I paid much attention to him - prior to that, Eidolon was just an extremely powerful background character to me. But in arc 18, we learn that (1) Eidolon is losing his powers and (2) he believes that fighting Echidna will allow him to tap into some sort of reservoir to bring them back.

We find this out, of course, through Tattletale exposing him, which is always an extremely embarrassing event for Tattletale’s target. It makes it extremely clear that what Eidolon is doing is pathetic. He is going to kill a teenage girl so he can feel something. 

Which would be messed up enough, right? We don’t need to make this even worse, right? Wrong. Because Wildblow has spent the last several thousand words building up the Case 53s as X-Men style metaphors for oppressed groups, and one of the forms of oppression that Wildblow generally writes well is ableism. I think you can consider most, if not all of the Case 53s as disabled in some way. I think the link is extremely clear with Noelle.

Noelle doesn’t get her powers from traditional Cauldron human experimentation - at least, not directly. Instead, she and Krouse are facing what is, to them, a no-win scenario. They’re quarantined with limited access to medical care. Breaching this quarantine would permanently render them criminals. If Noelle survives her surgery, which is a pretty big if, she’ll become disabled, in a way that both Krouse and Noelle agree is ugly and undesirable. She won’t be able to do “boyfriend-girlfriend stuff” because she won’t be “any good to look at, after.” 

Krouse and Noelle are terrified of death, yes, but they’re also terrified of disability. They are desperate for control over Noelle’s body, control that, as of that moment, only the state has. (Remember the quarantine?) Krouse pressures Noelle into drinking the vial. Noelle is cured. 

Noelle’s cure does not last. In attempting to assert control, her body becomes uncontrollable. Her body is her trauma and her eating disorder made literal. She still needs care.

Worm would be bad if this is why her life sucks. But Worm does something better, instead. Noelle goes through hell, not just due to the sheer difficulty of having her power, but because of the way her teammates and Coil treat her. They talk about Noelle like she’s already dead. They’re ashamed of bringing her the food she needs. When Krouse “includes” Noelle in a discussion in arc 12, it’s mostly perfunctory. They do not believe Noelle is human any longer. They lock her away.

Noelle doesn’t want to be put in a cage. Noelle doesn’t want to be dehumanized. In interlude 18, when we get insight into Noelle’s thoughts, we learn that what Noelle is angry about is the fact that Krouse locked her in a concrete bunker and placated her. When she tells people not to look at her, there’s a coda to that sentence that she doesn’t get to verbalize: don’t look at me like that. 

This is the person who Eidolon is going to kill. 

Via the Simurgh, this is a person Eidolon has unknowingly created.

A few thousand words of Worm go by. It’s Gold Morning. Eidolon is fighting Scion. Now, at the end of the book, we finally get substantial insight into David, the man behind the mask. 

David takes a Cauldron vial to cure his disability. David sees this as the only way out, after an unsuccessful application to join the military, and then, an unsuccessful suicide attempt. David is bearing an immense amount of shame and internalized ableism. David is worried that father’s friends are watching him. (Don’t look at me.) David cleaves the world into two kinds of people: those who can have jobs, who are liked and respected because they are useful; and people like him, who are useless.

It’s a terrible way to think. Without that worldview, how could a person not take the vial? David wants to be used, because David wants to be useful. He never gets the independence he craves – not when he’s in that level of debt to Cauldron – but he gets to be useful, and that’s one of the best things you can be.

Like Noelle’s, like Charlie’s in Flowers, David’s cure doesn’t work. His abilities are wearing off. He is essentially told, when Doctor Mother administers his booster shots, that his medicine is too expensive. 

Cauldron creates Noelle. David, as Cauldron’s soldier, has a role to play in her creation. David knows exactly what he is doing to Noelle. It happened to him. Worm fandom talks a lot about David being a father. He’s a father in more ways than one. (David’s father is always watching him.) (Don’t look at me.)

Cauldron never cures David’s ableism. In his world, you can be useful, or you can die. David asks Noelle if she wants to win. Noelle tells him no. You can have a job, or you can kill yourself. When David tries to kill Noelle to help himself, isn’t that a mercy?

Of course it isn’t. It goes without saying that all of this is extremely fucked up. When it comes to disability, “cure” is a complicated concept. I’m not going to get into all the ways it can be treated; this post is already a thousand words long. But I do think that Worm, through Noelle and David and the concept of the Cauldron vial, provides an extremely vivid picture of the problems with cure. 

Under ableist logic, when you have a disability, a cure is something you’re expected to want. Without it, the story goes, you can’t be useful. You can’t do boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. The expectation is social, like the act of staring. Your desire for it should drive how you organize your life – it is control, like a quarantine. David is crushed by that expectation. He throws his lot in with Cauldron, the cure-makers. The expectation is passed along to Noelle, and even though David can recognize that inheritance, he cannot imagine any other way to respond to it other than attempted murder.

At the beginning of this post, I mentioned that Flowers for Algernon is a tragedy. The reason that story has stuck with me so long is that I keep going back and forth as to why. Is it a tragedy because Charlie goes back to being disabled? There’s a good chance that’s what the author intended. I don’t know. It would be a pretty shitty story if that were the case. Is it a tragedy because people only treat Charlie well when he’s “cured,” and when that stops, he’ll go back to abuse? Seems plausible. I don’t think there’s one right answer. Regardless, when you’re disabled, there’s an immense pressure to seek out a cure, and a cognizable loss when it is withheld. The fact that Worm captures that social pressure and social loss so well is extremely compelling for me, and I’m going to be thinking about these characters for a long time.

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

🤍a completely random modern au headcanon for each aot character 🤍

eren jaeger’s idea of late night fun is going to walmart/target/etc. he likes to walk around with his friends and be absolutely childish. bonus: he’s banned from a certain store for kicking an inflatable ball across the store.

armin arlert is self conscious of his body. it’s only really his torso though. when him and his friends go to the beach, he’s always the last one to take his shirt off. he doesn’t even have anything to be embarrassed about, he’s just disappointed he’s not as muscular as eren or reiner.

mikasa ackerman’s favorite color is a dark red. the blood, cherry type of red. she’s got a lip tint in that color and her nails are painted too much. she also chews her nails. she hopes the nail polish is enough to break the habit but it isn’t.

connie springer’s favorite fast food restaurant is burger king. he thinks it’s underrated. you can count on him to fuck up a whopper. he also always gets the cardboard crowns to wear.

jean kirstein loves night time. he loves the solitude, the way nobody expects anything from him, and the fact that he can just be. he doesn’t get lonely during his late nights but he wouldn’t mind somebody to share it with.

sasha braus smells really good. she doesn’t use any super fancy products, though. she’s just one of those people that naturally have a good aroma. her skin is also really soft.

ymir tans really easy in the summer. she never burns or turns red. she’s genetically blessed. the sun also makes the freckles on her face pop and clusters of them pop up on her back/shoulders.

historia reiss loves milkshakes and soda floats. she always orders them with a whipped cream and cherry. she prefers milkshakes from a diner rather than a fast food place.

marco bodt really likes plants. he has a collection of houseplants. they line his window sills and he even has a special little rack with a special little light. he’s got a super green thumb.

reiner braun drinks protein shakes religiously. he pretty much sticks to a diet of shakes, meat, vegetables and rice. there are few times where he breaks his routine, usually just joining his friends for a night of drinking.

bertholdt hoover has a surprisingly high tolerance when it comes to weed and alcohol. at least that’s what it looks like on the outside. he’s pretty cool, calm and collected. nobody’s sure if he’s immune to being drunk, or if he’s too anxious about acting a fool to show any signs of inebriation.

annie leonhardt owns a german shepherd 100%. she’s had it since it was a pup and it’s one of the most well behaved dogs. they’re oddly similar in their mannerisms. bonus: it’s named marley.

pieck finger is the type of girl to sit on the floor. like, at all times. when she’s sad, she’ll lay down completely and just stare at the ceiling. it’s peaceful and it makes her feel relaxed.

porco galliard goes through an ungodly amount of hairgel. his hair is hard like those ballroom/ballet dancers in competitions. he has trouble growing facial hair.

zeke jaeger gets his weed flown to him from another state/country. it’s the best shit around. he’s also never home because he “runs a business.” always found with a blunt near by.

levi ackerman doesn’t like energy drinks or coffee. if he needs caffeine, he gets it from tea or some kind of health drink. he doesn’t understand how kids hearts don’t give out with all their monsters and red bulls.

erwin smith is so friendly despite his appearance. he finds joy in little things like a heads up penny or when the barista remembers his name/order. he’s a pretty easy going guy.

hange zoe breaks her glasses all the time. they either sit on them or step on them. it’s easy for them to lose their glasses because their room is a mess. books, papers, knick knacks everywhere.

my jean fic