#which either way can make this feel incredibly creepy

[abimee]

watching this lpers grestalt playthrough to freshen my memory and i entirely forgot about the kiss thing which like. does anybody else find that an utter crock of shit

[shotmrmiller]

johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.

he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.

and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.

the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.

a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)

"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."

excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."

"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."

you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—

"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.

"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."

-

damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.

he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.

you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.

lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.

double damn.

"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—

"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."

when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.

-

the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.

simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—

his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.

the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.

"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."

somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.

"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"

the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.

he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.

the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.

as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.

"hush."

you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"

you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.

wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.

the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.

"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.

"gonna beg?"

the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.

you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."

the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.

"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.

he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.

and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.

"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.

"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—

the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.

"ya with me?"

you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.

"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.

simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—

"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?

"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.

"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."

he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.

his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.

he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."

that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.

his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.

your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.

"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."

your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—

and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.

"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."

there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.

simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"

he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.

simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.

"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.

it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.

simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—

"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."

there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.

"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."

a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.

you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.

your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.

your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.

(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)

his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.

and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."

"pet."

"please stop looking at me like that."

he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.

"make me."

-

as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.

your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.

when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.

good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.

sent 5:30 am

about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.

sent 5:49 am

[avis-writeshq]

platform ten – spencer reid

summary: two months after he embarrassingly got caught ogling at the pretty girl on the train, Spencer’s team begins to suspect something.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: friends to lovers, rated G for mutual pining and second hand embarrassment. no use of (Y/N).

warnings: fluff, boy band spencer reid (caution, hot!), reader wears lipgloss, excessive mentions of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favourite Gothic authors), not proof read

wc: 3.4k

part one: carriage six

“So, I’ve been reading Poe’s works,” you begin, your headphones around your neck and you pull out ‘The Complete Poetry of Edgar Allan Poe’, flipping to ‘Annabel Lee’. 

Spencer watches as you flick to the page, his heart soaring at the sight of the annotations that litter the page. There are different colours and highlighters across the words and from what he could tell pink talked about language and that was the colour that stood out to him most. You bring the book closer so that he can read your annotations too and his heart stutters in his chest at the close proximity. He can smell the strawberry and honey shampoo in your hair and the heat rises up to his cheeks. It’s intoxicating. 

“I really don’t think the narrator is a crazy psychopath,” you say, glancing at him. “It just sounds like he’s really, seriously in love with her which just makes a bunch of people jealous.”

He watches the way you point to a certain line, ‘But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee.’ 

“Does that not sound like something you would say when you’re in love?” You ask, swooning a little. “It’s romantic, don’t you think? And their love is so brilliant and pure that the angels stole her away from him. I mean, it’s sad, but it’s kind of a picture of how amazing their love is.”

He nods along, his cheeks flushed because that’s what he thinks when he thinks of you. But he’ll never tell you that. How could he even dream of you feeling the same? The idea in itself is just so bizarre that he doesn’t even dare to entertain the thought. Not even when it’s late at night and he’s by himself, thinking through every single interaction you’ve had with him since he finally talked to you two months ago. 

“And I mean, think about it,” you continue, gesticulating with every word, eyes wide with excitement. “The last stanza. He’s still in love with her even after she’s passed away. How romantic is that?”

“Very romantic,” Spencer agrees, and he wonders if that’s how he looks when he rambles. “Alright, it’s definitely a love poem.”

He relishes in the way your eyes light up at his acceptance, the way you grin up at him and he wants to make you smile this way every day. His eyes wander to your lips and he swallows thickly. You’re wearing that lipgloss again, a cool berry tone that makes your lips shine and–

“Spencer? Are you okay?” 

He all but jolts out of his trance and he coughs awkwardly, his cheeks flushed. “Yes!” He squeaks, before clearing his throat and repeating the word. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”

He watches as an amused smile quirks at your lips as you ask, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” he manages to croak, his ears red. 

He can’t even look at you. His eyes turn back to the book you’re holding, reading through the annotations you’ve made on the page for the nth time over. This is an example of one of the instances he doesn’t want to remember and prays that his stop would miraculously be next. 

“I’ve been reading The Tell-Tale Heart,” you say, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Spencer forces himself to maintain eye contact with you and he manages a small, “really?”

You laugh and nod. “Yep! It’s really good. Kinda creepy.”

“It is a little creepy,” he admits, his gaze flicking to your lips again. He’s kicking himself internally, asking, ‘who’s the creepy one now, weirdo?!’

He figures that you’re either incredibly gracious or incredibly used to it because you don’t mention the way his attention wavers. 

“You don’t seem okay.”

Or so he thought.

“What— um— what makes you say that?” He asks, clearing his throat.

You shoot him a smile. “You’re not going on about the text like you usually do.”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it again, his brain short circuiting. He can imagine Derek snickering and Emily commenting her usual, ‘IQ of 187, slashed to 60’. 

“Spencer?” You look amused, a smile on his face and a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “Are you—“

“I’m fine!” Spencer says quickly, ears burning. “I’m just— thinking? Yes, thinking.”

You laugh. “Dangerous pastime.”

“What?”

“I— never mind,” you shake your head, continuing to laugh. “But I do want to hear your thoughts on ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’ at some point.”

“Totally!” He jolts, and he’s kicking himself internally for being so eager. “Yes. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

The train lurches to a stop and Spencer gets up from his seat. 

“Bye, Spencer,” you say, smiling brilliantly at him, and it takes every ounce of self control in him to not just grab your face and kiss you.

“Bye,” he says, saying your name, before getting off the train.

*** 

Spencer has been acting weird. That is the conclusion Derek has come to as he watches the youngest member of their team enter the bullpen with the widest grin on the planet for the fourth time that week. He watches as Spencer sits down at his desk, looking like a literal teenager, and gets down to work. He has his earphones plugged in, the kind you would get at a dollar store, or the complementary ones you get from airports that never fit your ears right and leave you with headaches because of the horrible audio quality. Derek supposes he’s just listening to Beethoven or Bach or another dead classical musician. But as he passes Spencer’s desk, he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks. Spencer is humming. No, not just humming. He’s muttering lyrics under his breath. Since when did classical music have lyrics?

“What the hell…?” Derek asks under his breath to no one in particular. 

“You talking about Reid?” Emily asks, an amused grin on her face. “He’s acting weird.”

“Thank God, I thought I was the only one.” JJ seemingly appears out of nowhere, standing beside them with her arms crossed and a sly smile tugging at her lips. 

Rossi enters the bullpen, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting at his desk, blissfully unaware. “We talking about the kid?”

“He’s been acting weird all week,” Derek insists, his brows furrowing. “What do you think it is?”

“Maybe he won a chess tournament,” JJ says with a soft laugh. 

Emily rolls her eyes at the idea. “Please, Reid’s probably the winner of every single chess tournament in the state.”

“Maybe his mother is doing better?” Rossi suggests.

“Doesn’t explain why he’s listening to, I don’t know, not Mozart,” Derek points out.

There’s a silence that pulls over the group as they stare at the back of Reid’s head. It isn’t long before he turns around to face his coworkers, raising an eyebrow.

“… Why are you staring at me?” Spencer asks, giving them all pointed looks. 

“You’re acting weird,” Morgan says, cutting straight to the chase. “Care to share with the class?”

Spencer offers them all confused looks. “I’m… not acting weird? If anything, you guys are the ones acting weird.”

“Ohh, no, don’t turn this around on us.” Emily grins, walking over to him. “What’s going on?”

“What— guys, what happened to ‘no profiling each other’?” Spencer spluttered, shooting accusatory looks towards his coworkers.

“We’re just worried, that’s all,” JJ says with maternal sympathy, but Spencer can tell that she’s hiding a smile. 

He groans, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. “I’m fine guys. I’m not acting ‘weird’ or anything.”

“Who are you listening to, Reid?” Rossi asks quickly, nodding towards the ear phones. 

“What?” Spencer’s head snaps up, redness crawling up to his ears. 

Emily smirks. “Yeah Reid. Who are you listening to?”

“No one,” he answers, avoiding their gaze. “I’m uh— I’m going back to work.”

He quickly turns his chair around, busting himself with his files. His co-workers all exchange glances, mischievous grins on their faces. 

“You know, I could just ask Garcia to dig into your phone,” Derek says with a shrug. “Or you could tell us yourself.”

Spencer shoots him a light hearted glare. “You wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You wouldn’t.”

***

Spencer thinks he’s going to die of mortification. He spent that entire week downloading all of the released songs by Taylor Swift, dutifully listening to each song and reporting back to you on his opinions. He has since come to a conclusion: Taylor Swift is a lyrical genius. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience with other branches of music that involves lyrics, but he figures it’s pretty similar to poetry. Regardless, he’s one hundred percent sure that he’s in for a world of teasing and tasteful jabs towards his sudden shift in music taste.

He’s also been doing this thing called texting, and he even went as far as getting a new phone and email address just so that he could properly contact you. He’s been in contact with you for the past eight weeks, going as far as messaging and calling you during break times and hiding in the bathroom to have an ounce of privacy. He feels like a changed person, all because of a tiny handheld device that fits in his back pocket. And you. Mostly you. The worst thing about this entire situation is the fact that Morgan did in fact manage to convince Garcia to snoop into his phone. 

“Alright, Reid, quit hiding. Who’s the girl?” Derek demands, slapping a piece of paper onto Spencer’s desk. It’s a log of calls and downloads. In other words, it’s a log of all the times he’s called the same number and all the Taylor Swift songs he’s downloaded. 

“Girl? What— what girl?” Spencer asks, playing dumb and willing himself to look Derek in the eye. His mind is spinning. ‘Blink evenly. Maintain eye contact. Don’t stutter. Answer his questions evenly. Play dumb. There is no girl, there is no girl there is no—‘

“Reid? Reid? Spencer!” Derek snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting him out of his trance.

“Huh?” Spencer jolts, snapping out of his trance. “What?”

Derek snorts at his reaction. “Look, kid. This person calls your cell every day at 12:30, which just so happens to be in two minutes. So, either you tell me and I let you have your fun, or she calls you and she’ll be hearing my voice instead of yours.”

Spencer scoffs, holding his phone firmly in the palm of his hand. “There is no girl, Morgan.”

“Right.” 

“I’m serious!” Spencer says, his voice going up and octave and he cringes internally. Smooth. “There is no girl.”

“Totally believe you.”

He groans, wiping a hand over his face to calm himself down. Before he could respond, the phone in his hand begins to ring. A smirk tugs at Derek’s lips and he immediately lunges for the phone, eliciting a yelp from Spencer who leaps from his seat. 

“Morgan— Morgan no—“

“C’mon kid, it’ll be a lot easier if you just give in!”

“No! Nope, nope, Morgan I swear to-“

In seconds, Derek snatches Spencer’s phone out of his hand, a triumphant look on his face. He keeps Spencer at arm’s length as he picks up the phone.

“Hey Spence!” A voice rings through the phone.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not Spencer,” Derek responds, his voice smug.

“… that’s concerning,” The voice responds slowly, cautiously. “Who is this?”

Spencer grabs the phone out of Derek’s hand, running out of the bullpen as quickly as his long legs could carry him, flipping his coworker the finger before he leaves. 

“Hello?” He asks into the phone. “I’m so sorry, that was Derek, my co-worker.”

“Oh, the bald one!” You say quickly, recalling his name from the photos Spencer had shown you beforehand. “I thought it was like… a bad guy or something.”

He laughs softly into the phone, his cheeks warm and wearing a smile that could split his face in two. “Don’t worry, he’s not a bad guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but not a bad guy.”

He hears you chuckle from the other side of the line. “Yeah, he seems like a nice person. Your entire team sounds really cool.”

“Maybe you could meet them at some point,” Spencer says quietly, his heart thundering in his chest. “I mean, they kind of already know you exist.”

“That would be fun,” You muse, and he hears the soft ruffling of cling wrap in the background.

“Lunch?” 

He hears you hum in response, and he can’t help but chuckle. There’s a silence for a few seconds, and he assumes you were eating, before your voice picks up again.

“I’d love to meet your team at some point, Spence. They seem like really amazing people.” 

He can’t help but smile, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. They are. You’d love them, and I’m sure they’d love you just as much.”

Before long, lunch break is over and Spencer begrudgingly hangs up and returns to the bullpen, his team all wearing frustratingly smug faces. He rolls his eyes, not paying them any kind as he returns to his desk. He ignores the very blatant whistle Derek does in his direction and the snort Emily fails to hide.

“So…” JJ begins, dragging her words out. “You’ve got a girlfriend?”

Spencer chokes on air and bites his tongue, grimacing at the taste of blood. “I do not have a girlfriend.” It’s not a lie.

“But you want her to be,” Emily says, smirking. 

“No! Yes. I don’t know, maybe?” Spencer feels like a teenage boy being lectured by his parents. Not that he knows what that feels like.

“Alright, well, have you asked her on a date?” Derek asks as he raises an eyebrow.

Spencer coughs, reaching for his mug of stale coffee. That’s all he needs to do to answer Derek’s question, because in moments Derek is screaming in his ear. 

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?!”

“We talk loads of times,” Spencer insists, hiding behind his disgustingly old coffee. “We just never… we’re just friends.”

Rossi bites back a chuckle. “Yes, because friends call each other every day during their lunch breaks.”

Spencer feels his face grow impossibly hotter and he chugs the last of his coffee. He cringes before turning his attention back to his files in an attempt to calm himself down. It doesn’t work.

“How did you meet her?” JJ asks, gentler this time. 

Spencer flushes and plays with his watch. “On the train.”

“That’s very you,” she laughs, ruffling his hair. “She seems really nice, Spencer.”

He preens at the compliment, his mind drifting to your pretty hair and glossy lips. He sports a grin and he nods. “She’s really, really nice.”

*** 

Spencer sits next to you on the train as usual. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is combed to be a little neater, only for his efforts to be destroyed when a strong gust of wind hits his face the moment he left his apartment. He reminds himself to put a comb into his bag after work. You’re talking about another one of Poe’s works, this time ‘The Raven’, another love poem. Your eyes are bright with excitement as you go on and on about the writing style and whatever else. 

Spencer is far from religious but your existence alone is enough to have him thanking the heaven’s that he is alive. He can’t help but smile every time you do, his gaze perpetually on your lips. He feels a little guilty about it, about how he can’t even control himself when he’s around you but you’re just so beautiful that he can’t help himself. He feels even guiltier when he realises he hasn’t processed a word you’ve said. 

“... and that’s why I think Edgar Allen Poe is really just a huge softie who wants to be loved,” you finish, snapping the book closed. “What do you think, Doctor Genius?”

“Totally,” Spencer agrees quickly, almost biting his tongue. “Absolutely.”

You laugh and Spencer thinks he’s going to faint. 

“Where are you up to in your Taylor Swift project?” You ask teasingly, nudging his arm. If it were anyone else, Spencer would have grimaced and shrugged them off but you aren’t just ‘anyone’. You’re the most amazing person in the world. 

“I’m up to 1989 track 9, Wildest Dreams,” Spencer recites, pulling out his notebook from his inner jacket pocket. It’s a small leatherbound notebook that he’s been writing all his thoughts in regards to the Taylor Swift songs, all in chronological order. He’s actually quite proud of it as he flicks to the latest page. “I really like this one. I did some research and I found out that the bass sound in the background is actually her heartbeat. That’s pretty interesting.”

You almost scream in excitement, leaning closer to him to read his notes. “I love this song! It’s my favourite Taylor Swift song ever and it’s just so pretty, you know?”

He nods in agreement, his cheeks flushed at the close proximity and he finds that he can no longer feel his tongue. He should get that checked out. 

“It reminds me of you sometimes,” you say, completely unabashed. Spencer thinks you’re trying to kill him. 

“What?” He asks meekly, recalling every lyric from the song. 

You freeze, flustered and you pull away from him. Spencer frowns at the sudden space but he watches as you stammer and stumble over your words.

“I just meant– you know, it’s a good song! That’s all.” You laugh anxiously, fiddling with the book in your hand. “Never mind, just ignore me. Tell me more about what you like about the song.”

In an almost uncharacteristic bout of confidence, Spencer reaches out to take your hand in his. At first, he thought his head was going to explode. It felt heavy and light all at the same time and he was almost about to pull his hand away when you squeezed his fingers. Just like that, all doubts are gone. You’re smiling at him and Spencer knows that he would do absolutely anything to make sure to keep it there. 

When the train lurches to a stop at Quantico, Spencer doesn’t make any effort to move. He’s grinning ear-to-ear, intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Isn’t this your stop?” You ask gently, loosening your hold on his hand. 

He shrugs, holding onto your hand tighter. “I’m always early. I can be late for once.”

Besides, he thinks to himself, inching closer to you, this is so worth it.

Pride bubbles in his heart when he hears you laugh again and his smile grows impossibly wider. 

“We’re almost at my stop,” you say, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand. “We should go out. You know, instead of just meeting on the train.”

Spencer nods immediately at the suggestion. “I’d like that. Are you free on Saturday?”

“I’m definitely free on Saturday,” you respond, squeezing his hand again. 

Spencer sits there with you until you make it to your stop. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and he feels happy, so goddamn happy, and he wonders how he’s lived without you. Before you get off the train, he calls your name. He relishes in the way you turn around, the confusion palpable in your eyes. 

“Yeah?”

He takes a step closer to you, his face in front of yours. His heartbeat is in his ears but at the same time he feels an incredibly ironic sense of calm. In seconds, he presses his lips to yours in a short kiss. He grins at you as you stumble out of the train dazed, waving goodbye. From the window he could see you press your cold hands to your cheeks before reaching for your phone. 

The smile that grows on his face when he sees your face light up his phone is embarrassing. It’s goofy and silly and he is so grateful that the carriage is empty. 

“Hello?” 

“You cannot–” your voice comes through the speaker and he grins again– “you cannot just kiss me randomly and then leave.”

“Technically the train left, not me,” Spencer says with a small laugh.

You’re quiet on the other end before replying, “We need a re-do on Saturday.”

Spencer has no complaints. 

reblogs are always appreciated!

taglist: @sunshineyottie @cerulean-turtle @tortelliniturtle7 @bucxkysdoll @awitadecoca

strikethrough means couldn't be tagged

[kalfui]

been thinking about aroace alastor a lot, in the sense that ofc this is simply canon and i wouldnt even BE thinking about it beyond a simple "woohoo this is fun, let's think about how that might have affected him and his relationships both whilst alive and after his death and fic and art and the usual joy of character analysis" if it weren't for the fact that it seems to be a flipping fight to just. Have that canon be acknowledged, which is taking up so much energy that it's honestly hard for me to enjoy him as much as I wish, considering this rep is supposed to be For people like me

and I think that's so much of my frustration around all of this, which IS mitigated by just finding a few chill people to follow and focusing on that -- but even then most of my "suggested for you" for this show is alastor x [insert any random main character] shipping/sexual content -- is that this is an offering for people to learn something new and delve into experiences that they may not have thought much about and the ones who know what aroace means, and in particular within the realms of how this character is being written within this particular very-sex-heavy universe (so, not so different from real life), by and large decided to just go "nah." people aren't interested in aroace experiences, and it's weird from a "so you just don't like a large part of this character's canon traits then, do you like the actual character, or just the OC you've made up in your head that happens to look like them?" perspective, but mostly for me it's that a lot of the way people talk/write about this it's like aroaceness is something that needs to be Fixed Somehow, and thank Goodness there's a neat little loophole that we can utilise in the form of "well sooooome aroace people do want to have sex and be in a relationship"

so many of the things I can't help but see, block, move on from, and in the ao3 alastor tag (which, it's frankly wild to me that aroace alastor has to be a specific tag, because so much of it ISN'T that, and even then we have to sift) is either just the equivalent of going "lalalala if I don't think about the aroaceness it's not real" or the even more disturbing "now how do we fix this so that the ace character can still fuck somehow." it's really creepy, and very much how people talk about aspec people irl. it's just incredibly poor taste and shows that this community is still so invisible

people really ought to think more about why this is such an important hill for them to die on that they want to Fix aroaceness in one of the only genre-fiction characters to be canonically such, ON a show where every other character enthusiastically enjoys sex and most of them are in established relationships or various slowburns -- why is the character that is not interested the one that is shipped with every other character to such an extreme?

I feel like anyone writing an aroace alastor that mysteriously can be compelled into sex and a romantic relationship needs to give me a 3000 page essay on the history and philosophy of aspec identities with a special section on aroace representation in media

but ultimately it's just a "look. please be kinder. if you look in our sandbox we have barely any toys, why are you coming into this sandbox to take more of them and then rubbing our faces in it and THEN being rude to aspec people when we say it makes many of us uncomfortable to be sidelined like this?"

I keep thinking of that one screenshot that was going around tumblr of the person who wrote straight brokeback mountain fic that everyone was going WTF about. why is it alright to "headcanon" away canon aroaceness (and mock people who point out its canonicity), but it's largely agreed to be in poor taste to do so with other canonically established queer identities?

I get fandom's not activism, but it sure sometimes can be a yardstick for how much I'd trust people to respect me irl, when I cannot enjoy aroace escapism without being talked over/mocked/yelled at AND having aspec theories appropriated without any understanding of what they actually mean or how they apply -- this history and community is a part of my life, and it's like people are just traipsing mud through it with the lack of respect for it (as lucifer would say "you come into MY house bitch???")

(apologies this got long. you don't have to post if you don't want to, I get that it could be inflammatory and don't want to put that on you, I've just been needing to vent. I just feel like I'm going a bit crazy with how nigh-impossible it is to avoid this -- why am I the one who's having to make all that extra effort to enjoy a character written with my community in mind? don't y'all have enough toys???)

Don't apologize, I absolutely love reading how others feel about this situation, and I completely agree.

I think it's sad how people don't want to think about a characters aroaceness and how it affects them and instead just throw that part of them out of the window. I think it's even more interesting since Alastor canonically thinks that he's straight, but hasn't found the right one yet.

"Headcanoning" a canonically aroace character a different sexuality is so.. I don't even have a word it. Many people "headcanon" Alastor a different sexuality, but keep it canon when it's Angel Dust or Vaggie. Personally, I think it stems from aphobia. Just like you mentioned, people feel the need to "fix" aroace characters, like their sexuality is a messed up or broken part of them. It reminds me of when I used to hear teachers talk about how everyone will someday find love, and the ones who don't will have a huge gap in their heart and be empty. It's quite terrifying just how similar it is. The fact that he, as the only confirmed aroace character, is shipped the most, too, is quite saddening.

It's disturbing how they search and search for stuff to use as excuses when they ship aroace characters. "Aroace people can still date," "It's just headcanons," "Alastor is not canonically aro," and so on.

Ao3 scares me, especially with characters like Alastor. You don't even wanna know how many times I've seen people say, "I know Alastor is aroace, but we'll just ignore that" in fics. Most of the time, they even change his character completely, and he's so out of character.

It also kinda disgusts me with the stuff people say about Alastor, I can be scrolling on Tumblr and a post comes up saying how Alastor would fuck the living shit out of you and it's so fucking disturbing and graphic, I guess this is just how it is generally when people talk about fan favorite characters, but when it's an aroace character too, like.. no, he wouldn't do any of that.. It's so weird. This is what people care about, sexualizing. They don't even seem to care how much of a complex character he actually is, but only how he would be during sex, and it's quite disturbing that most of the time he is the victim to these type of comments.

And, with the amount of hate I've gotten from tiktokers in my comment replies saying how either Alastor isn't aro, how he's just fictional and it's not erasing any representation by shipping him, how aroace people can still date, how Viv allowed them to ship him, and even saying that it's okay to ship him because he's a stereotype and bad rep (???) and whatever else they have to say, I quite literally do not care. I'm not gonna be humiliated into silence, I'm not ashamed about the fact I'm trying to keep these crumbs of representation we have left. "Boohoo, you talk too much about Alastor being aroace," and I'll continue, I think that's a lovely and very interesting part about his character, especially from the time period is from, and the fact he's unaware too.

it's kinda sad how a lot of people don't even know that he's aro, I wouldn't either since all the fandom does with him is ship him. There are so many other relationships people could dive into, Husk and Angel Dust, Charlie and Vaggie, Vox and Valentino, and many more, but yet they go for the aroace character.. Also the fact that since the pilot the character he's mostly been shipped with is Angel, a character who makes a lot of sexual remarks towards Alastor which he very obviously feels repulsed and disgusted by, is kinda just.. where's the appeal when he's clearly disgusted? Is that part of it? I'm glad that there is a side of this fandom where people actually love him for his character and not just because he's attractive.

Other than that, I'm very glad the show itself knows how to show he can have meaningful friendships and platonic relationships with people, such as Rosie, and didn't make him an edgelord that hates everyone and doesn't have friends for some random reason.

Thanks so much for sharing your thoughts with me, I enjoyed reading through it, and again, I completely agree. I just hope the fandom could realize he's a lovely character and that him being aroace is just a part of him like it is of us.

[meraxesmoon]

Modern AU HOTD Yandere HCs

note: idk what possessed me to make this lmao

warnings: yandere content, dark content, toxic relationships, sexual innuendo in aegon's part, college students au, helaena is my sweet baby ily helaena targaryen

┍━━━━━━━ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗━━━━━━━┑

Aemond Targaryen

☆ He meets his darling in college and is charming enough for them to trust him almost immediately. Aemond is smart, and often offers to tutor his darling in any subjects they're having trouble with, even going as far as renting out a room in the campus library so they can study without being bothered by other students.

☆ There comes a time where Aemond becomes romantically involved with his darling, after careful planning, and he invites them over to his apartment. He's a Targaryen, so he lives lavishly, but his apartment is tasteful, and you wouldn't know that he's rich just by looking at his home. Inside resides his large Maine Coone, Vhagar. She's this huge, extremely old and grumpy cat, who surprisingly takes a liking to Aemond's darling, and is always more active when they come around.

☆ Aemond is smooth with his relationship, yet he's far from perfect. Aemond is jealous, possessive, and obsessive when it comes to his lover, and hates sharing them with anyone else. He's more on the traditional side, as well, and desires to make them his little housewife as soon as possible.

☆ He most definitely tells his mother about his darling! Alicent and Aemond have weekly lunch dates, and she loves (Name) already from just hearing her son talk about them. She wants to meet them so bad, and once she does, she absolutely adores them. Aemond is a mama's boy. Not meeting his mother is out of the question!

Aegon Targaryen II

☆ The resident fuckboy, Aegon desires his darling more than any of his hookups, but she just doesn't seem interested in casual stuff. I can definitely see Aegon going for the nice girl, and he's an absolute menace when it comes to his darling! Aegon is high key annoying, but he's definitely an art student, which makes a lot of sense.

☆ I feel like his darling would be good friends with Helaena, so he asks her to put in a good word for him. Despite his reputation, Aegon is really devoted to his darling and has a hard time with anyone else that he tries to bring into his bed. It's a very toxic situation because while he's in bed with someone else he's thinking of (Name).

☆ Aegon is a bitch, like he'd let a pretty girl walk all over him kind of bitch. Once he does get involved with his darling, he's incredibly good at pleasing them. It doesn't matter what they want. He's there. This isn't just a sexual thing. Either way, he'd literally do anything for their approval.

☆ He's dependent on his darling, as well. He loves his sweet girl so much that he's unable to imagine his life without her! He wants to crawl into her body so she can never be without him, and Aegon recognizes how creepy that is, so he settles for keeping her in his bed as long as humanly possible.

Helaena Targaryen

☆ This sweet girl is an entomology student! She loves her bugs and is so passionate about them that she goes into that kind of career path. She meets her darling through her mother, unsurprisingly. Helaena doesn't have many friends, and so when she finally finds herself a companion, she's very happy!

☆ Helaena's feelings for her darling don't stay platonic, obviously, and she ends up wanting them to be more than friends. I definitely think she's neurodivergent, so Helaena isn't quite sure how to navigate her emotions when it comes to romance, but she knows that she absolutely adores (Name).

☆ She's a stalker. That's the only way to describe Helaena. She loves observing. She always has, but it's different when it comes to (Name). They're very close, and Helaena just loves looking at them! She thinks that her darling is so pretty, the prettiest in the entire world. So, Helaena follows her darling around constantly. When they're not hanging out together, she tries to steal glances of them. She's so sneaky about it, too. You'd never catch her in the act.

☆ Helaena hyperfixates on things, so she really appreciates it when people take in interest in her hobbies or whatever she's into currently. Like, she went through a phase where she was absolutely fixated on doing crochet, and she was making little bugs to give to her family and darling. She blabbers on to Aegon about her darling. I feel like in a modern AU, they would be very close :((((

☆ She has a pet tarantula named Dreamfyre 💕

[lovefromremus]

Why AFTG sucks but doesn't suck

Okay so I swear that will make more sense in a minute. The main point I'm trying to tackle here is why, despite its notable flaws, AFTG "sucks" to other readers but not to its fandom. Trigger warnings for basically every triggering topic in AFTG.

You may realise the majority of people who dislike AFTG have little to no understanding of the characters flaws - and that's because they cannot relate to the characters. They may criticise by saying Andrew is abusive or Nicky is too sexual. But the majority of fans disagree, and here's why. They can relate. Andrew is a victim of rape, child rape, and that is VERY recognised in the story and in his character and whilst many who are unfamiliar with this variation of trauma see his actions as abusive, fans of the series and in some cases victims of it themselves such as myself, see his behaviour as liberation. We see it as him taking back control.

Furthermore, with Nicky, people see his behaviour as creepy. I understand some fans POV is the same but to understand my point of view of the Nicky/Neil I did do an extensive explanation in the past but I want to delve deeper in the future, it's up on my Instagram around July 2022 if you want to read it. Moving on, I do not see it as creepy. His confidence in his sexuality and confidence in himself and his kindness I see as an act of freedom. Nicky is finally away from his abusive household where he was shunned and traumatized for who he was (remember the fact he went to conversion "therapy"??) and now he doesn't have to experience that. He's free. It's so beautiful to see and he is my favourite character. Keeping in mind, he gave up said freedom with Eric to come back and look after the twins, one of which he had never met or heard of.

There are a lot of other examples I could use, but the point is, the majority of people who claim AFTG is simply unrealistic thankfully haven't experienced the trauma many of the fans have who are able to relate to each character. And that's why AFTG will never suck. It can't suck - it's freeing and liberating.

Another thing I'd like to note is why I believe despite MANY flaws Nora is an incredibly intelligent author. So many under-represented groups were heard and targeted in AFTG and one of the reasons why AFTG is so "underground" or disliked away from the fact it's old and self-published is the fact it has such a minute target audience. And considering all things that happen in the book, some may question my phrasing of that so let me explain.

It's not the variations of trauma or events that are minute but the fact and extent of the trauma the characters experience and their reactions to it. All of the foxes are flawed - that's the point. And none of their responses to their trauma are healthy - that's the point.

The foxes can be seen as a representation of the minority of people who respond to their trauma in negative ways and the whole point of the book is to give these people second chances. And that's again why so many feel seen.

To summarize, I just personally believe that without a very self-aware or understanding mindset a lot of the people who cannot relate to either of the foxes simply just won't and did not like this book and even call it problematic. I'm not saying these people are narrow-minded (they are) but if we look at the large minority of readers who disliked the books that's the case and those who could relate but still label it as problematic probably could not understand why the foxes responded the way they did, and that's okay.

[yharnamsnewslug]

Within horror there are so many genres, but the one thing they've in common is that either you do it well or it will not work. Certain genres allow an amount of flaws that, well, as long as it's fun and you're entertained, it's all good. But horror isn't mid, it can't be mid, it can only be either really terrible or incredibly good.

This is because horror and comedy are the hardest genres to write (which is also why Jordan Peele is so good at horror, bc he's done comedy!), and you can tell when someone just doesn't get a genre, why the base doesn't work, why jumpscares are remembered but not the plot of your movie.

The best horror movie I've ever watched is Hereditary, despite the ableist undertones that Ari Aster just loves to fucking put in his films. Ari Aster, tho, understands the basis of fear and uses horror tropes with that foundation already built. If you copy the homework but don't know why those are the answers, you don't actually understand the subject.

I'm a huge horror fan, and as much as I hate the term "elevated horror", I'm enjoying the movies that come out of it. Jordan Peele's "Get Out", Ari Aster's "Hereditary" and "Midsommar", or even "The Haunting of Hill House" (Netflix adaptation). Horror is finding new ways to explore the genre and going back to the basics, understanding what scares you, and applying a new angle to it is FANTASTIC.

So it's incredibly frustrating when movies or shows that take the time to let you understand the characters that it is portraying (an INCREDIBLY important part of horror that works) are called boring. "Why did we need a 10 minute conversation about metaphysics?!" BECAUSE THAT TELLS YOU ABOUT THIS CHARACTER AND WHY THIS IS HAPPENING TO THEM. IT MAKES YOU CARE ABOUT WHAT HAPPENA TO THEM.

The story isn't about the fucking monster. The monster is a vessel, you idiot, it's not an actual monster, the monster MEANS SOMETHING. It's an idea, it's a metaphor, it's your mother at 12 when she slapped you for the first time, it's when you broke your leg and there was no one around to help you, it's the existential dread of being 35 and not knowing where you're going in life, it's looking at your spouse and thinking they're a stranger, it's walking into a room and feeling like you're a ghost. IT'S A METAPHOR.

We've used horror since fucking FOREVER to talk about the human experience, and I get that there's creepy slashers and monster flicks, I love them as much as you, I PROMISE, but for fuck's sake, can your poor excuse of a critique be something else than "not scary, 1/10, it was boring, waste of time."

Know when something isn't made for you.

[isaactheterrible]

Kaioh Retsu SFW and NSFW Headcannons, Plsssssss???

I love repuest lol this was tons of fun to write, fluff + nsfw

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

Retsu Headcannons

Sfw:

Absolutely incredible cook, 10/10 husband material, please let this man cook for you

I think Retsu is more of a romantic who would try to do your hobbies with you. You like dancing? How about you two take a dancing class together? Or you could teach him. You like drawing? Maybe you can do so together while commenting on each other's art works as you go. You like cooking? He'll fucking melt his so excited to cook with you so you can teach each other your family's recipes

I think Retsu's love language is acts of service, it's just how he shows affection and he would never let you handle the domestic burden on your own. That being said, he would feel extremely underappreciated if you didn't also step up and help without being asked to or if you took his love language for granted

Retsu is a family man not so much in the having kids kind of way but more in the integrating into his spouse's family and integrating them into his kind of way. He would love to be close to his inlaws and for you to meet his own found family

Very emotionally supportive and caring but he sometimes hides his own feelings to avoid "burdening" you with them. It would take a lot of time to make him feel safe enough to share them and be vulnerable with you

Tons of domestic fluff all around, like I said husband material. He loves having a close intimate emotional relationship with his partner that takes a long time to build. Knowing that he can rely on and trust his partner is crucial to him. Honestly and trust are absolute must haves and the very core of what his relationships are based on so if you ever break that trust in a serious way there's no coming back from that. He also doesn't date casually.

Secretly likes it when you get sick and he has to take care of you

Usually prefers to be the big spoon while cuddling, having you in his arms makes him feel reassured that you're safe

Favorite type of date is either picknicks or cooking together at home

He would like to have children in the future biological or adopted but it's not a necessity for him.

Not particularly possessive or jealous because he trusts you fully, still can get irritated if a suitor is being too persistent or he feels inferior to them (Which is rare because his not an insecure person, but if he sees his spouse as out of his league that might make him a tad insecure that they'll leave him for someone else in the future) If he gets bothered by the suitor he'll ask them to leave but if they're cruel or creepy towards you things will get physical

Loves forehead kisses. Makes him feel loved

Nsfw:

Idk man, 7 inches uncut

Switch at heart but prefers to dom as a pleasure dom cause he just likes taking care of you. If his subbing he gets a bit shy and is overwhelmed quite easily, have fun with that

Verse, but will only bottom if his feeling either really hot and bothered or vulnerable, loved and safe

Usually he prefers to function more as a pleasure dom/service top (Again love language is acts of service)

Does sometimes edge you a bit but feels kinda bad dragging it out for too long, reassure him that It's fine and well you'll get what you deserve ; )

Please, please, please, please, please pull this man's hair it'll awaken something in him

In the rare event he feels possessive his usual service top quickly changes to a power bottom and he'll literally ride you for hours till he feels you got the message

LOVES it if you take charge especially if his been off traveling and you haven't seen each other in a while. Makes him feel wanted

If you're AFAB and you don't want children he'd rather wear condoms (or even get a vasectomy if he's 100% sure you two are for life) than make you go on birth control because he knows how much it can fuck up your body and hormones.

If you're AMAB or infertile he'll be more lax about it unless one of you has an STD. I do believe his monogamous so if you both get checked and you're clean he can forgo protection all together.

Is very interested in bondage and wants to experiment a bit with kinks if and only if he trusts you. Still his too shy and will not mention it unless you start the discussion first

Will probably at least be willing to experiment with any kinks you may have unless they involve hurting you in any way (His terrifying of causing you any kind of pain and he also doesn't have the heart to degrade you even if you reassure him it's what you want). He might enjoy it if it's you degrading him but only if it's softer stuff (Such as a bit of mean dirty talk and not heavy degradation)

If you act all lovey-dovey during sex he will literally melt, easiest way to get him to sub. Of you're very loud or actively asking for more he will be more dominant

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

Have fun lol

[hollowed-theory-hall]

That theory in Riddle being sexually abused by a Doctor figure and the behaviours he depicted + the talk on unsympathetic victims... Kind of violently reminded me of Severus, and especially his Worst memory where the Marauders did what they did to him. Even his bond with Lily was this unhealthy dependency I think? Well not the right word. But Lily was the only thing keeping him sane and going I feel.

Anonymus: Adding on to the previous ask about Sev and Lily and unsympathetic victims. Do you think the Evans ever acted for Severus the way the weasleys did for Harry? A safe retreat? Do you think they ever tried to report Tobias? How do you interpret Sev and Lil's bond? I know a lot of the fandom thinks Sev was infatuated with her/ romantically loved her...but I often felt that Severus raised Lily to a holy Mary status, and that while he did in fact love her, it was platonic (in which case there is a comment to be made about the way platonic love between opp sex PPL is perceived and ridiculed)

I'm not the op of the post you mentioned, but yeah, Severus is a great example of an unsympathetic victim. Personally, he isn't a character I like all that much, but he is undeniably an interesting one. This turned out a little rambly, but that's what I got.

We don't know how SWM ended, but, yeah... not pleasant regardless of how far it went.

Severus was definitely a victim of abuse, both at his home and school and what he went through was awful. That victimhood doesn't excuse his treatment of students in his care. Like, I had a temporary position as an instructor for teenagers, and Severus' treatment of his students makes me want to throttle him a bit.

But as a child, as a teen — he definitely didn't deserve the life he got. Dumbledore has a tendency to turn a blind eye to abuse for various reasons, which ended up fucking a lot of people over, Snape included. (Tom and Hary too)

As for Severus' dependence on Lily, yeah, I think he was incredibly fixated on her. I agree with you that that fixation isn't necessarily romantic. Lily, was essentially Severus' first friend — his best friend. Lily was to Snape what Ron was to Harry in a way. The first person he felt he could trust.

I went through The Prince's Tale to refresh my memory on all of this, and I wanna talk about his friendship with Lily first, actually.

“. . . thought we were supposed to be friends?” Snape was saying, “Best friends?” “We are, Sev, but I don’t like some of the people you’re hanging round with! I’m sorry, but I detest Avery and Mulciber! Mulciber! What do you see in him, Sev, he’s creepy! D’you know what he tried to do to Mary MacDonald the other day?” Lily had reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking up into the thin, sallow face. “That was nothing,” said Snape. “It was a laugh, that’s all—” “It was Dark Magic, and if you think that’s funny—” “What about the stuff Potter and his mates get up to?” demanded Snape. His color rose again as he said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in his resentment.

(DH, 569)

Severus sees himself and Lily as best friends. He's happy when she dislikes James, but, he never makes any attempt to become romantic with her. It can be read either way, but personally, I like to read it as a close friendship.

(A little unrelated note about the above quote I saw someone mention once somewhere: Severus knows James fancies Lily, and warns her about it in that same conversation above, and It's interesting he raises Lily's potential romantic interest in James as a retort when she says she doesn't know what he sees in Mulciber. Is anyone shipping Mulciber/Severus? 👀)

I mentioned in this post how I believe Severus' Patronus is a doe because he sees Lily as his defender. Even after all these years. And I think, that too, can be about friendship. Because Liy was his first friend, his first defender. The fact that in SWM we see her step in to defend him suggests to me it happened before. That Lily stepped in to defend Severus, so when he calls for a guardian, in the form of a Patronus, it's still Lily.

And after SWM, Severus is less concerned about what happened to him, he's more concerned about losing Lily. That was the worst thing about that memory. Not his humiliation or assualt, but the loss of his first, and probably only best friend. I don't think he ever trusted someone else like he trusted Lily:

“I’m sorry.” “I’m not interested.” “I’m sorry!” “Save your breath.” It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just—” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice.

(DH, 571)

Is he a blood-purist who thinks Lily is a perfect muggleborn and therefore an exception to everything? Yes. Severus is in the wrong here about calling Lily a mudblood and thinking it's fine because she's a good mudblood, she's not like the other muggleborns. Lily has every right to cease her friendship with him over it.

But it's telling about his priorities the first thing he does is try to fix their friendship, to apologize to her.

Did he deserve to be hanged upside down and likely stripped in the middle of a large audience at school? Hell no. James probably didn't see it as a big deal, but it's so messed up I don't really know what to say, really. Like, I think Severus definitely fought back and wasn't always the victim of the Marauders, though. In the scene I mentioned above with Mulciber it's implied Severus and his Death Eater buddies are just as bad as James and the Marauders are. Their targets are just different. I think what James did is awful and inexcusable, but at the same time, I think, in the same way Tom Riddle hung Billy's rabbit to scare his bullies away, Severus tried to do the same, if less successfully. It's why he invented spells like Langlock (used in SWM on him) and Sectumsempra.

A lot of his demeanor is the result of abuse. He bullies and scares his students because he's mimicking his father, his abuser. he learned from him to control by force, with fear threats, and degradation. Because that's what Severus experienced as a child. Also, the fact he became a professor as young as he did, meant he felt had to force his students to take him seriously. Some of his first students probably saw him in his lowest moments as a student himself. So, he resorted to the fear and insults that his father likely used when he wanted to be taken seriously.

I truly think the loss of Lily's friendship is what stung the most about the whole ordeal of SWM. I mean, Severus has a lot of bad memories. I'm sure this wasn't the only time he was humiliated and assaulted. He was abused by his father. He was almost killed by Lupin as a werewolf during the prank. And then he joined a terrorist organization where he was likely tortured, where he likely watched people die. And in all of this, his worst memory is this one case of assault that I doubt was the only one? This doesn't make much sense to me, I think it's his worst memory not because of what happened to him, but because he lost his friendship with Lily over what he considers a "stupid slip".

And yeah, after Lily's death, in his mind, Snape raised her to a saintly status. He never has a mean thought about her, because he feels guilty over her death. He feels like he killed his only defender. So, of course, his memories of her are colored like she was perfect. That's how he wants to remember her so he can keep feeling guilty and hating himself over it. He feels like he deserves to feel that way. This is something you see with victims of abuse, they rationalize their abuse by convincing themselves they deserve it.

And Snape is a very bitter character who doesn't want to get better.

As for whether I think he found solace in the Evans household the same way Harry did with the Weasleys? The answer is yes actually. And there's some evidence for it.

Lily knew things weren't good at home for Severus:

“How are things at your house?” Lily asked. A little crease appeared between his eyes. “Fine,” he said. “They’re not arguing anymore?” “Oh yes, they’re arguing,” said Snape. He picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what he was doing. “But it won’t be that long and I’ll be gone.”

(DH, 563-564)

And Severus mentioned later in that conversation how his father doesn't just not like magic — he doesn't like anything. Severus and his mother are very clearly implied to be abused by his father when his mother is mentioned. He doesn't describe much of what goes on at home, he tries to act fine, but I'm calling it abuse because of what it most likely is. Severus can't wait to leave home as an eleven-year-old. This isn't something that usually happens in healthy households.

Additionally, Severus spent enough time in their house it was conceivable he and Lily snuck into Petunia's room to find her letter to Hogwarts:

“You shouldn’t have read—” whispered Petunia, “that was my private—how could you—?” Lily gave herself away by half-glancing toward where Snape stood nearby. Petunia gasped. “That boy found it! You and that boy have been sneaking in my room!”

(DH, 566)

So, he probably stayed over with the Evans parents most of the day and only returned home to sleep. That's what I think happened. And, Lily's parents seem very kind and accepting of magic from what little we hear of them:

Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce

(DH, 566)

“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?” “Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

(PS, 41)

I think Severus preferred the Evans house over his own. His own where his parents argued and his father abused him and his mother. Where his parents both worked and left him wandering the streets as a young child.

As for whether the Evans parents ever tried to report Tobias, we just don't really know. I'd say no. Domestic abuse in the 1970s was still largely unrecognized and not treated legally and medically like it is today. So, I don't think they'd have anyone to report to even if they wanted to. Especially with where the Snapes lived, which was essentially slums that the police didn't bother with anyway.

[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Nineteen: Uniform - Seungmin/Minho

Tags: Maid!Minho, customer Seungmin, feeding someone with your mouth??, mild exhibitionism, bjs

AO3 Link

Minho liked a challenge. He was never one to shy away from anything that tested his resolve or his patience (though the latter was a little harder to handle as he was often impatient). Challenges were fun and exciting. They made life more enjoyable.

When an incredibly pretty boy with fluffy brown hair and an entirely nonchalant disposition walked into the maid cafe, Minho knew he had found his challenge for the day.  He straightened his skirt and made sure the cat ears that sat on his head were in the right place before he sauntered over to greet the man. Minho barely managed to hold back a smirk at the way his eyes widened and a faint blush creeped over his cheeks. Perhaps this would be easier than he thought. 

“Welcome to the Calico Cafe! I’m Lee Minho,” Minho greeted, putting on his sweetest, honey-dripping voice. “Can I have your name?”

“Kim Seungmin,” the man stated rather flatly but Minho could see the way his eyes flitted to his stocking clad legs below his skirt. He appeared unaffected by Minho’s presence and his dress but Minho had been in this business for a while and he had a keen eye for reading people. 

“Alright, Seungmin-ssi, I’ll lead you to your table. Right this way!” He smirked to himself as he turned around, making sure that he put a little more effort into the spin so that his skirt twirled up. There was no way it didn’t reveal his upper thighs. His thighs were one of his best assets and he wasn’t afraid to show them off. 

He led Seungmin to a table on the opposite end of the room, passing a few other customers along the way. At almost every table was another maid, male and female, doing anything from simply talking to the customer to half sitting in their laps. Minho couldn’t help the way his lips quirked as Seungmin glanced around the room with wide eyes. He did know what this place was, right? 

“Alright, I hope this table is to your liking,” Minho said, allowing his smirk to fully take over as he got Seungmin seated. Seungmin licked his lips and nodded, still a bit dazed as he looked around the room. “We have two menu options, as I’m sure you know,” he explained after a beat. “There is our regular menu of course, and then there is our…special menu. If you choose the special menu you can pick any one of our maids that aren’t currently with another customer, including me.” Elation rose in his chest at the way Seungmin seemed to perk up when he mentioned that he was available. Good . 

“I’ll take the special one, if you don’t mind,” he said with a nod. 

“Ah, so polite,” Minho sighed with a smile. “I’ll get that for you then.” 

He returned soon after, setting the menu down in front of Seungmin. Usually he would leave while the customer looked at the menu so they wouldn’t feel too embarrassed making their selection, but Minho didn’t really want to leave Seungmin. He was extremely handsome and nice to look at, especially when his cheeks turned dark with blush. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his lips pursed together made Minho want to see what he’d look like over top of him. But he pushed those thoughts aside. For now. 

“I think I have my choice,” Seungmin said after a few moments. Minho lit up. 

“Perfect! Which did you choose?” he asked. 

“Item number ten. With you,” Seungmin said with no hesitation, looking Minho directly in the eyes. 

Something twisted in Minho’s stomach and he felt his cheeks heat. Most people were either too nervous to request that option or they were creepy old men. Minho was delighted to have someone as pretty and as young as Seungmin making that request with so much confidence in himself. And when he had seemed so unsure before. “Good choice,” Minho purred. He let his fingers brush Seungmin’s cheek as he walked past. “I’ll go get everything ready for you.” 

Item number ten. Strawberry tea and a sweet, angel food cake topped with berries and whipped cream on the regular menu. On the special menu however? The same thing, only Minho would sit in his lap and feed him like the perfect little maid he was–with his mouth. Not all of it, because that would probably be gross for everyone, but he’d definitely take the excuse to get his lips on Seungmin’s. And Seungmin would be able to touch him wherever he wanted as long as it wasn’t anywhere private . 

Minho brought the food out and set it on the table with an innocent smile and then tossed a leg over Seungmin’s lap. The skirt of his maid uniform stretched tight across his muscular thighs “I hope you enjoy your dessert,” Minho said, looking down at him with a saccharine smile. 

Seungmin’s breath hitched and he lifted his hands, hovering them over Minho’s hips. “You can touch me, you know. That was part of your order,” he said lowly. He placed his hands on top of Seungmin’s and pushed them down so that they sat on his hips. “Don’t be shy.” 

“I’m not–” Seungmin denied. He tongued his cheek and began to rub Minho’s hips through the skirt, the fabric rustling softly with the movement. 

“Mhm, that’s better.” Minho hummed and turned back to grab the teacup from the table. He held it daintily and lifted it to Seungmin’s lips. “You can take the first taste on your own. But I want to try it too,” he said. He pressed the rim to Seungmin’s lips and tilted the cup for him so he could take a sip. Seungmin watched him through hooded eyes and Minho could already feel the tension thickening the air. 

“Good,” Minho hummed. “How’s it taste?” 

Seungmin swallowed and licked his lips. “Why don’t you give me another sip and find out?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up at him. Minho raised his eyebrows slightly and smirked. This Seungmin may have a bite in him after all. 

“Alright then.” He gave him another sip of the tea and then set the cup down. Still holding the sweet drink in his mouth, Seungmin brought his hand up to hold the back of Minho’s head and pulled him in to attach their mouths together. Minho let out a soft sigh as their lips connected and that allowed Seungmin to pass the tea from his mouth to Minho’s. He was immediately hit with the overwhelmingly sweet strawberry flavor mixed with the mild taste of green tea. He let it run over his tongue and down his throat and Seungmin licked over his lips as he swallowed, catching a drop that escaped his mouth. 

“So, Minho-ssi, how’s it taste?” Seungmin asked, tilting his head. 

Minho’s head felt a little fuzzy as he worked to formulate a response. “Good. Really good,” he said. He ran his tongue over his lips just to see Seungmin’s eyes follow his tongue and it gave him back some of the power he had so quickly lost. 

“Want more then?” he asked and Minho’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Whatever you want.” 

Seungmin grinned and Minho’s breath stuttered because so far he hadn’t seen Seungmin smile, but he had the best smile he had ever seen. He needed to smile more. Minho would already be at his feet if he had smiled at him when he walked in. 

Minho found himself handing Seungmin the cup so he could take another sip himself. And then he was being pulled in for another kiss. Seungmin threaded his fingers through Minho’s hair and tilted his head back slightly so he could like the drink pass more easily between their mouths. Minho couldn’t control the pleasured sigh that exited his mouth after he swallowed. He loved having his hair pulled and even though Seungmin was being gentle now, it was still enough to have him hot and bothered. 

“Pretty kitty,” Seungmin hummed. Minho’s cheeks burned and he wanted to retort but he couldn’t come up with anything to say. Just a couple of kisses and this man had him more of a mess than he’d ever found himself in front of customers. Ridiculous. 

“A-alright, I was supposed to feed you,” Minho said, clearing his throat. He reached behind himself blindly and managed to grab the cake and the little cake fork he’d brought out. He scooped up a little of the cake and placed it between his lips. Seungmin’s throat bobbed and he tilted his head up to take the cake from between his lips, using his tongue to dislodge it. When he’d finished the bite, he grabbed Minho’s jaw firmly and kitten-licked the corner of his lips.

“You had something there,” he stated simply and Minho felt a chill go down his spine. He shivered. 

“Is that so?” he asked, hoping to make his voice sound more nonchalant than it did. But it came out weak, affected . Damn. 

Seungmin hummed, rubbing his hand up Minho’s side. He played with the trim along his waist and for some reason the specific attention given to his uniform was turning Minho on more than he would like. “You look really pretty in this. Do you like wearing it?” 

Minho shifted in Seungmin’s lap so that the skirt rode up his thighs more. “I do right now,” he said. He felt a little smug at the pleased smile on Seungmin’s face at his response. 

“Good. Cause it’s fucking sexy.” He ran his hand down from Minho’s waist to the hem of his skirt and rubbed the trim between his thumb and forefinger. Then he stopped and pushed his hand under the skirt. He spread his fingers across Minho’s stocking-clad thigh and squeezed and Minho let out a mewl that apparently neither of them were expecting. He felt heat spread throughout his body and arousal pooled in his belly. When he looked down, he noticed his cock tenting the fabric of his skirt. 

“Too much?” Seungmin asked. 

Minho shook his head. “No, no–” he inhaled slowly, trying to ground himself. “Actually…I know it’s not part of what you paid for but…” He glanced around, checking to make sure everyone was engrossed in their own thing and then looked back to Seungmin. “Do you want to come to the bathroom with me? I think I spilled some tea on my uniform.” 

Thankfully, Seungmin understood Minho immediately and he nodded. “I’ll come with you to help you clean it off.” 

Minho showed off his wide bunny-like smile and slid off Seungmin’s lap. “Alright, just this way,” he said, waving his hand for Seungmin to follow. He followed him through the cafe to the back where the bathrooms were and no one batted an eye as rushed out of the dining area. 

He pulled Seungmin into a stall and as soon as he had closed and locked the door behind him, he sank to the ground on his knees. Seungmin let out a groan and Minho shivered. “Fuck, you look so sexy,” he said, wetting his lips. Minho smirked and put his hands on Seungmin’s thighs. 

“You like a man in uniform, huh?” he asked jokingly and Seungmin let out a surprised laugh. 

“What?” he asked incredulously, shaking his head. His chest shook with the remnants of his laugh and Minho felt oddly proud of himself. But then Seungmin went back to looking serious again and he reached down to cup Minho’s jaw. “You know…This whole thing was actually a dare I got roped into by my friends.” Minho felt the arousal in his stomach sour into something bitter and his mouth felt dry. Oh . 

Seungmin seemed to notice his sudden change in demeanor and he stroked his jaw with his thumb. “But…then I saw you. Saw you in this pretty little maid outfit. And suddenly the dare didn’t seem so bad.” 

Relief washed over Minho and he sighed. “You scared me for a second,” he said, chuckling weakly. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not that type of guy. I can admit when another man is fucking sexy. Especially like this. Now, are you gonna be a good little maid for me and suck me off? Since you seemed so eager to get to it.” 

The teasing went straight to Minho’s cock and he nodded. “Yes, please.” There were few things Minho liked as much as having a good cock in his mouth. And judging by the bulge in Seungmin’s pants, he was pretty well-endowed. 

His mouth watered as Seungmin unzipped his pants and pushed them down along with his underwear to sit underneath his balls. Minho opened his mouth almost on instinct and stuck his tongue out a bit to cover his teeth. 

Minho moaned the second that Seungmin’s tip passed his lips. The taste of the salty precum made his head spin. He pushed his head forward to take more of Seungmin’s cock in his mouth and then wrapped his hand around what he couldn’t reach without choking. His began to bob his head and Seungmin bit his lip, letting out a low groan. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, his head falling back. “You’re so good, Minho.” 

The praise spurred Minho on and he bobbed his head faster, swirling his tongue around the shaft and hollowing his cheeks at the same time. His eyes stung with tears as he took Seungmin deeper and he tried to relax his jaw more. He was never good at deepthroating but he’d be damned if he didn’t take him as deep as he could. 

“Shit, I’m already close,” Seungmin breathed and Minho’s chest swelled with pride. 

He pulled almost all the way off his cock, just keeping his lips around the tip and hummed. His stomach felt warm from how Seungmin’s hips jerked in response. “ Hnng –shit, shit.” Minho grinned and licked over the tip of his cock and dipped the tip of his tongue into the slit. Seungmin gasped and smacked his hand against the wall to brace himself. 

“Ohhh fuck ,” he groaned, biting his lip. “That’s good.” 

Minho loved the sounds he was pulling from Seungmin as he kissed and gave kitten licks to the underside of Seungmin’s cock. “You should come down my throat,” he mumbled against his shaft and then took him back into his mouth. He closed his eyes and began bobbing his head, picking up his pace. Seungmin sucked in a sharp breath and his abdomen tensed. 

“Ahhh, shit, fuck, I’m coming Minho,” Seungmin warned before Minho felt the hot liquid filling his mouth and running down his throat. He relaxed his jaw and swallowed as much as he could, the rest of it dribbling down his chin and onto his uniform. He gasped as he pulled off and Seungmin tugged him to his feet, pulling him into a searing kiss. He licked his own cum off Minho’s lips and Minho keened. 

“Tell them you’re sick,” Seungmin mumbled against his mouth. 

“Wh-why should I?” Minho breathed. His cock was still achingly hard in his stockings and there was no way he could go back to work with Seungmin’s cum definitely staining his clothes. 

“I want to take you home with me and fuck you like you deserve. Not in some shitty bathroom stall.” 

Minho’s cock twitched and his stomach burned hot from arousal. “Well…I suppose I could. You do have a nice cock.” 

“Yeah, go tell your boss you can’t finish your shift. I’ll be waiting outside.” 

He pecked Minho’s lips and exited the stall and smirked at him over his shoulder. Minho wiped his mouth and straightened his skirt. “That was an interesting shift,” he mumbled to himself. 

[to-thelakes]

Having a BAU girls night out but with Luke tagging along for scary dog privileges (even though you could very well do anything you want yourself bc you're a literal federal agent)

girl i LOVE this idea, like luke would fucking LOVE to be the scary dog on a night-out, intimidating anyone in sight who was being creepy or weird. here's how a typical night with the women of the BAU (+luke) would probably go.

so you all get to the bar as soon as you're off work, sometimes in uniform (which is literally just formal wear), sometimes you get a chance to change into something more comfortable but sluttish for the bar, really depends on the day

either way, luke is there and he sometimes wonders how he gets himself into these situations because being surrounded by his absolutely gorgeous drunk coworkers is just something he never really expects but he secretly loves it

you and the girlies all do rounds of drinks, cocktails for garcia, rum and coke (or whiskey) for emily, jj gets like either aperol spritzer, cocktails or like vodka with a mixer (orange or pineapple or cranberry juice) and tara gets either whiskey, like emily, or she gets like coke/lemonade with vodka, you get whatever your favourite is on the night and you obviously are all drinking

luke probably gets like a beer but doesn't tend to get too drunk unless it's a whole team outing (including matt, reid and rossi) so he has a few beers

the ladies quickly get smashed which leads to dancing, which leads to reader being incredibly touchy with everyone but especially luke which leads to him getting dragged to dance

he loves dancing (even if he'd never admit it) and he loved seeing you so care-free on a night out

the dancing then leads to men approaching the other girlies and jj is probably the first to make her way towards you and luke when men start being weird

this is quickly followed by garcia

they are both strong independent women, don't get me wrong, but jj especially avoids conflict when she can, so you will drag her into you and dance with her and with luke

the GLARE the luke gives the weird men would be enough for them to give up or scuttle off

jj is always thankful for luke in the mornings and always tells him as much, garcia is a little more on-and-off about it

you almost never leave luke's side so you're usually clear of the creeps

now as for the other girls, whenever weird men come around, tara and emily are the first willing to start a fight

this leads to luke diffusing which only pisses them off more and you or jj or garcia step in to diffuse further, the men always back off when another man comes and it makes emily and tara mad (so real)

but after that hiccup in the night, it usually goes back to normal, dancing, singing, drinking until you can barely walk because a release like a drunken night is seriously needed after a long day chasing criminals

also emily will occasionally spend an entire night drinking wine but it makes her a little too silly and gives her a raging headache in the morning so she generally avoids it

but all-in-all, everyone loves when luke comes and are thankful for the scary dog vibes that he gives off to people who are being weird

obviously, they wish things were different and also can and do take care of themselves whenever they got out alone but luke being there tends to make everyone feel safer

luke also just loves having free rein and permission to glare down any man who even dares go near any of the BAU women if they don't want it

he is aware that everyone can take care of themselves but after dealing with weird men who make him feel sick to his stomach most days, being able to protect his friends from those same kind of men does make him feel a little better

you also love when he protects everyone, you just think it's so sweet and you adore him for it

which is just another reason that you fall for him

[angelsandarsenic]

From the moment Cucurucho appeared, I have loved that freaky bear thing

Cucurucho (and the federation) has so much horror potential that is not talked about nearly enough. There's all this awesome creepy fanart of Cucurucho, but the pure horror potential I-

Of course, from the beginning, Quesadilla Island and the Federation have been very similar to communist propaganda, what with the happy go lucky Pato (and admins) giving them steadfast rules with extreme consequences, "I hope you enjoy the island", the census bureau, so much stuff being "classified" and don't even get me started on the happy pills. But this type of behavior has such a psychological horror feel; what specifically gets me thinking all the time is that phrase "I hope you enjoy the island". It's so fucking ominous, especially if you imagine Cucurucho as this Clearly Not Right but is Pretending creature--which you don't even have to, the QSMP did a fantastic job of presenting them that way anyway--the phrase is framed as something positive but is sooooo eerie and👏 I live 👏 for 👏 that 👏 shit👏.

Obviously, I have to acknowledge poor horror protag Cellbit, who's absolutely going through it, but the whole server has huge madness and phobia horror themes, and even home invasion/survival themes in a twisted way, as well as, all together science experiment horror.

The madness/phobia horror subgenre focuses on the effect the situation has on the characters more than any actual killing that may happen. Of course, murder is an excellent scare tactic in this genre, similar to, again, uber controlling governments that "make people disappear" or outright show off execution as a control method. This subgenre is about characters going insane, what drives people to do terrible or desperate things. In this way, the eggs are a huge factor.

Everything about the wall and not being able to leave the island sets up for a claustrophobic, trapped feeling. You are not in control, something something about fragile birds and freedom versus big predators--the Federation is in control. The admins and the code monsters and faceless and named federation workers, the happy pills or outright killing and torturing people, everything you do is either allowed or not by the Federation. It breeds resentment, prompts people to explore and rebel, so the players were given the eggs. It worked as a fantastic distraction, and everyone grew incredibly attached to them, like they were supposed to. This is where home invasion/survival type horror begins to tie in, but I'll get to that.

By the way, has anyone else ever been suspicious about the eggs coming from the Federation and what that could mean for their trustworthiness? I'm not talking about the eggs becoming code monsters, that's sort of a different thing, I mean as the eggs, in everybody's homes and personal lives, they have free access to everything on the island.

The players settled down. They built homes, they made lives for themselves and tasks were required to do to keep the eggs alive, like what happens when people have children for real. It forced them to become familiar and complacent on the island and gave them every reason not to leave.

I don't need to explain the impact that all had, almost every action is driven by the eggs, for the eggs, for family. The way everyone reacted when the eggs got taken, then again, and the desperation everyone has to get them back safe, such as Philza Minecraft willingly walking himself into a trap just for the chance of finding Chayanne.

The Federation can just take away the eggs at any time. They can take away the players' security, autonomy, create mode, etc. What strikes me though is the way the plot has progressed so far, and that's what makes it science experimentation horror.

First, we start with Cucurucho again--emotionless, detached, sterile and white colors/coding, and what is their job? To collect data on the players. Cucurucho has shown up several times throughout the QSMP, including before the eggs ever came into play, as a worker for the census bureau.

The eggs require regular tasks with increasing difficulty, which could be viewed as similar to scientists working with animals seeing how they perform and complete specific activities, like a mouse running through more difficult mazes to find cheese. Then, players get more complicated and specific tasks and no one gets to know why/what they're for usually.

Remember the first time the eggs disappeared, we were afraid they would never come back? I was surprised that they did. I think events like this are the big tests, and maybe it was just me, but it feels like the eggs are being taken and allowed back, not like the players have any actual affect on the situation.

It would be remiss not to mention the backstory that's slowly being uncovered and how some players are being outright experimented on or manipulated by the Federation. Jaiden as Bluebird plus Baghera and Quackity, Cellbit's interactions with Cucurucho and Forever and Pac on the happy pills. Speaking of, I'm so incredibly curious to see what's going to happen to Philza now  👀 👀

The Federation has had very limited interactions with the players and usually through representatives or proxies. They're kind of like a hand of God coming down to mess with stuff whenever they see fit, or again, like scientists, watching and controlling and taking notes. What all for?????? This would also explain Cucurucho's pure hatred of Tubbo--Cellbit was expected, and his investigations were only going so far, then he is easily put back in his place with a little scare, or gets preoccupied (oh how easily Roier could be used against him). Tubbo on the other hand, came out of nowhere. He's a chaotic little anomaly of their new test subjects and doesn't take time to cautiously settle into the island, not to mention he presents as harmless, which was how he got the better of Cucurucho in the first place. Who knows what he could do to the other characters and the Federation's experiments?

It's also worth mentioning that the whole setting is an island. Meaning even though the players can't escape, there are other people/land out there, but the players are in a secluded, controlled environment.

Lastly, "islands" (enviornments that are isolated for the duration of the media in some way) are a main setting of horror and specifically home invasion/survival horror. Similar to phobia/madness horror, home invasion/survival horror focuses more on the buildup before the attack, the characters being watched and the subsequent affect. It also relies on the characters having a a place they feel safe or something/someone they want to protect. That’s what the QSMp created when they gave the players the eggs. Even though the players are on the Federation’s island, they’ve been forced to make homes there and made connections with each other and with their kids. Then, the monsters attack. Monsters that didn’t show up in the very beginning, progressively getting worse and targeting the eggs. It’s like the characters have been dropped on the island just to be food or playthings for the creatures. The characters get high security doors and windows and reinforced blocks, they get powerful weapons. Then there’s the code, and the Federation itself, tearing into the characters’ lives and families, no matter what they do, they’re never safe. There is no sense of security and I think even with Etoiles getting the code monster’s sword and every advancement the players make, it won’t be enough. Not to mention, Philza, one of the best survivalist, innovative and fighter players just got kidnapped.

Lastly, Cucurucho said the eggs left because there was something worse than the Federation on the island. That statement is terrifying on it’s own, but it fits right in with this au genre of horror—the assailants don’t show their faces until near the end of the story, and not only do we know very little about the Federation still, but this new threat looms, completely unknown.

Ok, ok, I know I got way off topic of Cucurucho, but like I said, since they first showed up, the QSMP has had fantastic horror potential, that it’s living up to, we just don’t talk about it much.

[nobodysdaydreams]

✨My Unhinged Visions for the TMBS Kids’ Villain Arcs: ✨

Based on this poll, and this post by @kaslynspeaks and @sophieswundergarten. They activated the brain bees, and you can blame them for this.

Warning: Insanely long post. I go through each kid individually, discuss a premise for their fall to villainy, and then I give you a hastily written scene which I did not proofread, that probably contains typos and misspellings. Some are longer than others, some end abruptly, some are a lot darker than others, but they all have happy endings so you're welcome for that at least.

I also kept it vague whether I was talking about the book or show characters so while I draw on elements from both, you can imagine most of these with either character.

Please enjoy!

I'll start with Kate Wetherall.

The Premise:

I picture her as a teenager or young adult for this. Her villain arc is pretty brief tbh, but I think that fits Kate. She'd impulsive and emotional and maybe even the most likely to go dark the quickest for those reasons, but she also has strong morals, and I don't think she'd fall very far, and I also think she might be the most likely to turn around.

Here's the scenario. The society has won, and now they've started working together to take down bad guys.

Kate loves it, but she starts getting carried away sometimes. Seeing men that are willing to hurt children the way that she was hurt sets something off in her. Sometimes she takes things too far, or acts impulsively in the heat of the moment. The others protest this, insisting that Kate only needs to use enough force to stop other criminals, not harm them.

Kate feels frustrated, not only because she feels like her friends are criticizing her, but also because this is what she's good at. She's the one who fights. Why should she hold herself back when the others can use their intellect to their full potential?

The others don't realize how much of this is connected to Kate's inner turmoil, her feelings of frustration. They simply remind her that "that's not how they do things."

But maybe it should be, thinks Kate.

Maybe it would send a message. Not just to the criminals but to the children they hurt. To let those children know that someone cared to make sure that the people who hurt them paid for what they did. So that they wouldn't feel abandoned. So that they wouldn't feel how Kate always felt.

So she works in secret. She couldn't bear another condescending lecture from her father or the others. I picture her leading a sort of vigilante circus themed squad. They're all strong and athletic, obviously, but they're also incredibly creative. Whatever a bad guy's fear is, they can use illusions, contortion, and all sorts of creepy imagery to make it come to life. To make them pay for what they did. To break them, to reduce them to nothing.

And Kate as a leader finally feels respected, valuable. For once, she isn't told to hold back her impulsiveness, her emotions, her abilities, her creativity. In fact, she's praised for her lack of restraint. And she tells herself she doesn't need to feel bad either because after all, these are the bad guys. They deserve it.

But eventually the others find out. Kate tells them there's no point in another lecture, but this time, they don't lecture. They don't even know what to say.

Because they're horrified. They're horrified that Kate could ever think that punishing people like this, criminals or not, is a suitable use of her talents. Kate reminds them that they always got to use their intelligence to their full potential whenever it suited them.

And now, the scene (picture this occurring in a circus themed lair. Idk just role with it. Brain tired):

"I was the one who was too much," Kate reminded him.

"You three were the brilliant ones. The psychic, the scholar, the genius. But me? I was just the muscle. The "creative" one. The impulsive one. The liability," she scoffed.

"My talents were only useful when they were directed by my intellectual superiors. What you wanted. What you planned. But here? Here I'm a leader, Reynie. I get results and I get justice my own way. And I'm not interested in hearing another lecture about acting impulsively, or going too far, or about how all of your know so much better than I do. So save it."

"Fine!" snapped Constance. "Then we'll spare you the lecture, if you want to skip straight to the fighting."

Kate paused, and the look of betrayal in her eyes was evident.

She thought they might be here to lecture or disapprove of her methods, but had they...had they really come here to...to...

Kate shook her head.

"I don't want to fight you. And even three against one, was all know that would hardly be a fair fight."

Sticky winced and held himself back from the overwhelming urge to nervously polish his spectacles, remembering how many times he'd watched his friend take down men (grown trained men) like it was nothing.

Constance, still bitter from Kate's deception, raised her fists.

"I'd still take those odds."

"Constance-" cautioned Reynie, but it was already too late.

"Very well," said Kate.

Her followers stepped forward to assist her, but Kate motioned for them to step back.

"Trust me," she said to them. "I appreciate the offer, but I can take handle this one on my own."

The others knew that wasn't a lie.

Kate raised her own fists and addressed the trio.

"You always thought your minds made you so much better than me, so let's see how well you can actually do without me. Good luck. You'll need it. Even if I do intend to go easy on you."

"Katie-Cat?"

Kate groaned.

"This is none of your concern."

"I should say that it is," her father replied, stepping out from the shadows to confront his daughter. "Considering I raised you better than this."

"Raised me?"

Milligan immediately realized his mistake.

"Katie-Cat, I-"

"Didn't mean to leave me?" Kate snapped. "I know Dad. I know you didn't mean to. No, you just chose a dangerous job working for a dangerous man and put your own life at risk, when you knew your child had no one else but you."

The hurt in her father's eyes made Kate regret her words, but only for a moment.

After all, it's not as if what she said wasn't true.

"I'm sorry," said Milligan earnestly, realizing perhaps for the first time how much his child was still hurting.

How much she'd been lying every time she said that she was fine. How much she'd been hiding her pain from him, from everyone.

"It wasn't fair to you. I promise, I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."

"Really?" said Kate. "Well then. I suppose there is something you can do for me."

"Anything Katie-Cat," said Milligan softly, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Stay out of my way," Kate ordered, looking her father directly in the eyes, doing her best to look tall, strong, and intimidating.

Milligan's face hardened slightly. He knew that look. It was a look he'd seen in his daughter's eyes before, her fearsome determination, her resolve not to back down.

It was normally one of the traits that he admired most about her.

"I can't do that Katie-Cat," he replied, seriously but still with a tone of affection in his voice.

"I love you too much to let you waste your talents and potential like this."

Kate laughed.

"Of course you do," she replied, gesturing for her followers to step forward.

"It looks like I might need some help after all. But try to go easy on them," she advised her followers. "Most of them aren't trained fighters and their biggest crime is shortsightedness. Hardly worth our best or most painful efforts."

"Don't fight them," interrupted Milligan. "They don't need to fight this. Just you and me."

Kate eyed him suspiciously.

"You hurt your leg last month," she reminded him. "You're not in peak fighting condition. If this is some kind of trick-"

"It isn't," replied Milligan. "You and me. If you win, we'll let you keep your operation and leave the decision up to you. If I win, you end this."

Kate's face became thoughtful, carefully considering his offer.

"Uh Milligan," interjected Sticky. "I know that you're pretty well trained, but you were just injured, most doctors wouldn't recommend-"

"Deal," said Kate, charging forward without warning, as Milligan side stepped.

It was hard to tell who had the upper hand. Milligan was stronger and had a clear height advantage, but he was still recovering from his injury and Kate was faster, and more flexible.

They held nothing back, but still neither of them succeeded in doing much damage, mostly because the skill with which they dodged the other’s attacks was just as impressive as the fighting techniques they employed.

"Tired old man?" she asked.

"Oh believe me," said Milligan. "I haven't even started yet."

They fought for hours, until at last Kate found something else that gave her the upper hand.

Environmental knowledge.

One of the circus' tricks was a series of platforms that were triggered to fall when you stood on them for a certain amount of time. They sent the performers falling to either be caught by a fellow trapeze artist or (worst case scenario) fall into one of the safety nets.

It was simply a matter of cornering her father onto one of the platforms, and removing the bridge.

"The fall is too far, and we haven't put the net out," Kate reminded him.

"You lost. Surrender."

Milligan looked down for a moment, judging the distance, then he looked back up at his daughter.

"No," he replied.

Kate was confused.

"What do you mean no?" she asked.

"I mean no," Milligan replied. "The fight's not over until it's over. I don't surrender."

"I'm not putting the bridge back," Kate reminded him. "Whatever trick this is, I'm not falling for it. Don't be stupid."

Milligan stood firm.

So did Kate. They were both stubborn. Like father, like daughter.

The seconds ticked by.

"20 seconds," Kate reminded him.

"Milligan we'll find another way!" Sticky yelled. "Just surrender, it's not worth it."

"This is my daughter," Milligan replied. "She'll always be worth it."

Kate scoffed.

"15 seconds," she announced.

Milligan didn't respond.

Kate still waited. Her father was fast. He only needed a few seconds to make it back in time, and would no doubt run out the clock.

10 seconds.

9 seconds.

8 seconds.

Kate groaned. Of course he would play it like this.

She walked over to the bridges control panel and pressed the emergency stop button.

It wasn't working.

Kate felt as if her heart had stopped.

"It's not working," she whispered.

"Kate it's your dad!" yelled Reynie. "You won! You won okay? Just press the button, put the bridge back!"

"It's not working," she yelled, the panic rising in her voice.

4 seconds.

"DAD-" she yelled, turning to her father, the father she'd missed for so long, the father she loved, the father she didn't want to lose again.

2 seconds.

"I love you Katie-Cat."

0 seconds.

The platform dropped.

And so did Milligan.

And so did Kate, diving after her father, clinging to him tightly as if that could somehow save him.

The others surrounded them as soon as they landed.

Kate was mostly undamaged, Milligan had broken her fall.

But he wasn't moving, wasn't responding.

"Dad?" Kate whispered, tears in her eyes.

"Dad I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I-please don't go. Please. I can't lose you again."

Kate reached down and hugged her father.

"You won," she whispered. "You won okay? Just please come back. I love you."

At once, Kate felt her father sit up and wrap his arms around her, wrapping her in an embrace that even she could not escape from.

"Victory," he announced, looking down at his daughter.

"And I love you too Katie-Cat. I'm sorry for the dramatics. I assumed you'd be able to put the bridge back in time, but it's always nice to have a plan B."

"What-" said Kate, who was too relieved to see her father alive and well to be upset that she had been tricked.

"But, but the fall-"

"I've fallen before," Milligan reminded her. "From greater heights than this. You get better at falling the more you practice. Just uh...don't tell Mr. Benedict. Or Number Two. Or Rhonda...perhaps it would also be wise not to mention this to Miss. Perumal."

Kate sighed.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just got tired of your criticisms."

"We didn't mean to sound critical" said Reynie. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But you were never a liability. You're our friend, and we need you."

The others nodded.

Kate sighed again and smiled.

"I need you guys too," she admitted, as her friends joined in hugging her.

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

And now for Constance Contraire.

The Premise:

I picture her being pretty young in this, but not too young, teen years at the most. The story here is that Constance succeeds in destroying the Whisperer and saving the day.

But this time, it leaves her mind damaged, seriously damaged. So damaged that her powers become uncontrollable and scary. Some government researchers offer to help Constance, but Mr. Benedict, suspicious of their intentions, turns them away. Nicholas vows to protect Constance, insists that they will figure out what's wrong, that they will help her, but then one day Constance ends up hurting him on accident, basically incapacitating and nearly killing him. At this point, there isn't much left to do, accepting outside help is the only option. The others promise to visit Constance and make sure she's taken care of and happy until Mr. Benedict recovers.

They never get the chance. Something goes wrong, and the story is that Constance is on the loose and dangerous, causing out of control destruction and physical harm. The police and government agents try to bring her in several times, but all end up hospitalized from the encounter. The society seeks Constance out, and they eventually find her hideout.

The Scene:

"Why are you here?" demanded Constance.

"What do you mean "why are we here?"" asked Kate.

"We're here to bring you home Connie girl."

Constance scoffed.

"Connie Girl."

They always acted like this. Like she was still a tiny defenseless child. Even though she was now older than the others had been when she'd first met them, they still acted as if they were her older siblings.

Or at least, they did with their words. But their body language sent an entirely different message. They stayed on the other side of the room, not daring to approach her, not daring to put their arms around her like they would have done before.

"You're afraid of me," she observed.

"Constance, we care about you!" Reynie protested.

"That doesn't mean you're not afraid."

Reynie didn't answer. There wasn't much he could say.

They'd all seen what she could do. And Reynie had never been a good liar.

"We just want to talk to you."

"We're talking now," observed Constance.

"Not here," said Kate. "Not in some secret lair or hideout where you've hidden yourself away."

"Where then?"

"Home. Your home."

For a moment, they can see it. The longing in Constance's eyes.

Home.

She quickly puts that aside.

"Right," she responds. "Home. Where the government will no doubt be waiting to take me away again."

"What? No!" Sticky exclaimed. "Constance, we would never let that happen! Mr. Benedict would never let that happen!"

Mr. Benedict.

She disregards the name and the emotions that come with it.

"And yet, it's happened before," she replied.

"You even let them take me.”

Her friends hung their heads and looked away at the reminder of their guilt, the unbearable weight that they would forever carry with them.

“They told you what I did to them. But do you have any idea what they did to me?” asked Constance.

“What they put me through? The things they made me do?"

"We thought they could help you Constance," said Reynie. "You were scared and in pain, and they offered help, and we wanted to help you. We didn't know...if we had known-"

"You would have stopped them?" asked Constance. "How? By asking nicely? And would you really have let me stay with you? After knowing what I could do to you?"

"We would have figured it out," Reynie insisted. "We're a family."

Constance laughed.

"Family? Gosh Reynard, you always were so childishly sentimental. It's a terrible weakness of yours"

Sticky and Kate briefly glared at Constance on their friend's behalf, but Reynie could hear the pain behind his little sister's insult.

He took a small step forward.

"Constance please-"

"Get away!" Constance barked, a hint of panic in her voice as she took a step backward.

"You know what will happen. Don't be stupid. Just leave. It's what's best for everyone. I'm a monster now. I'm only going to hurt you. And deep down, you all know it."

"Constance?"

The voice came from behind her. Constance didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

The others were immediately horrified. They'd told him not to come; he'd promised not to come, for his own safety.

But they should have known better. Nicholas would not be kept from his daughter.

"Dad?" Constance whispered weakly, then silently chastised herself for having spoken aloud.

She refused to turn around.

Nicholas still hobbled towards her. Constance could feel his mind. Still split, shattered from what she'd done to him, but slowly healing. And his emotions towards her...pain, lots of emotional pain, but no anger. No, there was something else, something far more powerful.

Love.

The others warned Mr. Benedict back, but he ignored their warnings. He wouldn't be deterred. His daughter needed him.

He limped over and knelt down, as best he could for an injured man so that he could address his child.

"Constance," he whispered. "Look at me please."

Constance turned away and shook her head.

"Please," her father whispered.

"I-I can't," she responded, a tiny tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Nicholas looked at her sadly, but affectionately, as if she was the most precious thing in the entire world.

And to him, she was.

"Oh...oh my dear Constance-"

"You should go," she ordered, pushing her father away.

"Go now. Or I'll hurt you again. I'll hurt them too," she threatened, but there was no malice behind her words. Only fear, fear that her threats might not be empty promises.

Nicholas ignored his daughter’s threats.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

He could feel her emotions in his mind. His daughter's power, too great and uncontrollable for her tiny body, made so much worse and so much stronger by what she'd been subjected to. Her power radiated from her mind, seeping outward and infecting every mind it came in contact with.

Nicholas let it come. In fact, he embraced it fully. The pain didn't matter. If that was the price he had to pay to keep his child safe and let her know that she was loved and forgiven, then that was a price he would gladly pay.

"Oh Constance," he whispered, as the tiny girl collapsed into a puddle of tears. "There's nothing you could do that would stop me from loving you."

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

Now for Sticky Washington.

This is largely inspired by @sophieswundergarten's amazing fics and posts about Sticky and his anxiety. I can't possibly link all of them, so if you're not following her and reading her fics, that's your own personal problem, and I pity you.

Sadly, I didn't write a reunion scene between him and his aunt or the Washingtons for this, because I wanted it to kind of work for the book or show versions of the character, but please know that in the full version of the fic that exists only in my brain, Sticky does reconcile with his family.

The Premise:

Sticky is older in this, an adult, maybe 20s or 30s. The story is that even after the Whisperer, after Curtain, the nightmares, the anxiety, it still haunts him. He can't get over it, but at the same time, he doesn't want to burden his friends, he can't burden them.

So he distances himself. He doesn't want to, but the voice inside him tells him that this is for the best. He would only burden them; he would only weigh them down. The others aren't sure why he's doing this, but assume it's because he wants his space and they try to respect that.

The anxiety, the fear, the flashbacks, it all gets worse. Finally, Sticky can bear it no more. So he does the unthinkable.

He builds his own version of the Whisperer. Not to control people. Just to calm his anxiety. And maybe, as the show version of Sticky says "[...] put good thoughts into people's heads. Make them feel happy." Nothing intrusive, nothing exploitive, nothing selfish. Just things like advising people to wear a seatbelt when they drive, and use dangerous equipment properly, and basically anything else that's unsafe or would make Sticky nervous. After all, what's the harm in that? He's making the world safer. And it's not like his old friends would care enough to bother with him.

But that's where he's wrong. The society detects the machine's influence, and they know it's not Curtain. They don't want to believe that it's Sticky, even when the evidence points to him. But eventually, they have no choice but to accept the truth and confront him.

The Scene:

Sticky looked up at his visitors from behind his desk. His office was nice, not extravagant or expensive, that wasn't his style, but it was neat, clean, and organized. As for Sticky himself, he was hardly the boy he was when he'd first met his friends. He was older, taller, stronger. Handsome. Confident.

Reynie told himself that he had nothing to fear. Appearances might change, but underneath it all was his friend.

"Sticky-" he began, but Sticky cut him off.

"It's Mr. Washington now," he corrected in a professional tone, trying his best not to reveal how much he'd been hurting. "Though I suppose I could allow you to call me George, for old times sake."

"Okay Mr. George," said Constance. "Having fun playing supervillain?"

Sticky frowned.

"If you came here just to criticize me, then I'll have my secretary show you out. Better her than my security," he added, glancing at Kate, who had her hand on her bucket.

"That's not why we're here," said Reynie quickly.

"Oh?" said Sticky, raising an eyebrow.

"Your family misses you," clarified Reynie, hoping to appeal to his friends' sentimentality.

"Well they have no reason to miss me. I brought them some lovely property, send plenty of checks, and cover all their medical expenses, which is all they ever wanted me for anyway," said Sticky.

"Would you ever go to visit them?" asked Reynie. "I um...I don't want to get involved in your family's personal lives. But I think they might want more than money. I think they...I think they really miss you."

And then he sees it. A sense of longing, and a yearning in Sticky's eyes.

But it vanishes almost instantly.

"I'm a busy man," Sticky reminded his friends. "I have businesses to run."

"Honest businesses?" asked Kate suspiciously.

"Yes," said Sticky, glaring at her. "You might disagree with my personal hobbies, but I assure you, I make my money fairly."

"You call brainwashing the world a hobby? Really Mr. George?" asked Constance.

Sticky sighed.

"I'm fixing the world," he lectured them. "Crime is down, addiction is down, people's rates of anxiety and depression are down-"

"Including your own no doubt," muttered Constance, but Sticky ignored her.

"-and it's all thanks to me," he finished.

Reynie looked horrified. Kate looked disgusted.

"But you're doing it without their consent!" Reynie protested. "And you don't know what the side effects could be."

"And the way you're justifying it," said Kate, "you sound exactly like-"

And then she stopped, realizing that what she was about to say would have gone too far, way too far.

But it was too late. Sticky knew what she'd been implying, and his faced morphed from a look of uncomfortable and false politeness to sudden rage.

"Like who?" Sticky snapped, and his friends jumped at the sound of his voice. It was so much louder and deeper than it had been when he was a child. It was a man's voice now, but it wasn't just the maturity or the confidence of his voice, but the anger it possessed. The harshness that had been so absent from him as a child.

Constance was the first to recover.

"You know who "Mr. George,"" she answered, glaring at her former friend.

The other two glanced at each other. What Constance was saying was cruel, especially after all that man had put Sticky through, but it was also undeniably true.

"How dare you?" whispered Sticky, the anger rising in his voice.

"How dare you compare me to him? AFTER EVERYTHING HE DID TO ME!"

Sticky rose from his desk.

His friends had never seen him look so furious.

"Sticky-" began Reynie nervously.

The others took a step backward.

Sticky's self-consciousness and compassion suddenly returned to him when he saw the fear in their eyes.

That’s the thing about anger. If you are someone who is small, short, nervous, mild mannered, someone who is perceived as “weak”, then your anger, no matter how justified, is often belittled, patronized, or dismissed as "cute", unless you can find a way to be taken seriously, to yell louder, to make yourself more threatening. Of course, the other side of this is that if you are someone who is tall, strong, loud, powerful, and intimidating, then it doesn’t take much anger to make others afraid of you, even if that’s not your intention, unless you learn to moderate your emotions and remember how threatening you look from their perspective.

For most of this life, Sticky had been on one end of this spectrum, always needing to yell louder and be more insistent to make his voice heard. Now he found himself on the other side of the spectrum. But although his height, physical appearance, and position in the world had changed, the emotion felt the same to him as it always had, and he often forgot just how frighting he could seem.

Even to those who had once called him friend.

Sticky sighed and took a deep breath.

"I'm not like him," he insisted.

"I'm not giving myself fame, money, power, or anything like that. That's the difference. When I say I'm doing this to help people, to make them feel happy, I mean it."

He looked at his friends, glancing over their faces, trying one last effort to get them to understand.

"You know me," he reminded them. "You know I wouldn't do that. I'm not doing this for power. I'm doing this for peace."

There was silence for a few moments.

"We know," said Reynie.

"We know you are Sticky. And we know you've been hurting. We should have noticed earlier, and we should have offered to help sooner. I'm sorry. But whatever your intentions are, that doesn't make this right."

Sticky didn't reply. He knew that Reynie was right; he always was.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice suddenly sounding softer.

"Stop this," said Kate. "Turn yourself in. We'll help you, we'll- we'll get you the help you need. So you don't have to feel this way anymore."

Sticky was surprised.

His anxiety...his fears...he tried to act like it didn't bother him anymore. He didn't want to be a burden. He didn't want to drag his friends down with him.

And yet they were here, right next to him, not as adversaries, but as friends.

They didn't have to come. They didn't have to forgive him.

"You've needed help for a while," said Constance, her voice suddenly gentler and far more compassionate then even her friends were used to hearing from her.

"Haven't you George?"

Sticky didn't answer. He could feel Constance tentatively poking her way into his mind. But he didn't fight it. He sat back down and nodded silently, feeling weak and exposed, the reality of his pain revealed at last.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought I could deal with it on my own but I...I can't. I'm not- I'm not strong enough. That's why I needed to do this. I thought I could help not just me, but others, because the truth is I...I'm just not enough. I'm not strong enough."

His friends ran forward to hug him.

"You don't have to be dummy," said Constance.

"None of us are. That's why we have each other."

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

And finally, Reynie Muldoon.

Ngl, I went pretty dark for this one. He's the only one I actually gave a body count to (I know I'm sorry don't blame me blame the bees and I apologize if you think any of these are OOC I'm trying my best here. Also Reynie is older in this and there are darker themes mentioned so consider this your warning). This is based on @kaslynspeaks amazing post here and her awesome comments on my poll where she talks about the whole book conversation where Reynie can "only see snakes" so he lets himself be bitten and becomes a snake himself? Genius. 10/10. Set off the bees for sure, so thank you for that.

The Premise:

This one blends a lot of elements from the others. Like in Kate's situation, the society has won, they're fighting crime, but Reynie becomes disillusioned, though for different reasons. He's older than Kate was in her version, he's late 20s, 30s, maybe even pushing 40. It took a long time for him to get to this point.

You see, at first, Reynie is fighting for what he believes in: bringing bad guys to justice, keeping his friends on the straight and narrow, and doing what's right. But being a leader has a cost. He's always the one emotionally supporting the team, he gives more than he gets back, and that starts to take a toll. As he gets older, he encounters more bad guys, ones that make him sick to his stomach, but what's worse is the lack of people who seem to care. The politicians with empty promises, the corrupt police, the ordinary citizens who look the other way instead of helping. Nothing changes. There's always another crisis, another bad guy, another problem that needs the society, and the society needs him. So Reynie drains himself until at last he can give no more. Finally pushed to the brink by what he's seen and the sense of hopelessness and isolation he feels, he makes the decision.

He starts by cutting himself off from the society, at least professionally. They respect his decision, but are surprised by it. Once he's free of that obligation, Reynie tells his mother he's getting a new job and needs some space right now to figure himself out.

What he actually does is get involved in the criminal underworld. He tells no one of course, they'd never approve. But Reynie has learned that there is one thing that can control a snake: a bigger snake (or as the expression goes "there's always a bigger fish").

And his intelligence, knowledge of others, leadership skills, and experience with criminals quickly leads to Reynie becoming the boss of the criminal underworld (how did he do that so quickly? What is this "criminal underworld" I keep mentioning? Like. Is it a gang? The mafia? The ten men? Some random group of thieves? Idk, don't question it, just use your imagination).

Anyway, now that Reynie has control he determines what crimes happen, when they happen, and how many people get hurt. Which he views as damage control. He keeps his real occupation hidden from his mother, telling her he's involved in important government work, and it's better that she didn't ask questions. Eventually he completely cuts off ties with the rest of the society, knowing it's only a matter of time before they put together what he's done.

They do figure it out, eventually, and they're heartbroken of course. They can't believe it. Especially that Reynie, out of all of them, would ever do something so terrible. They want to confront him, but they can't find him.

Until one day they receive an anonymous coded message, tipping them off to his location.

Reynie's security team laughs when they tell them they're his friends. Their boss doesn't have any friends, and no one shows up to see him without an appointment unless they either have news that can't wait, or some kind of death wish. And he certainly never takes social calls.

Still, they let Reynie know about them. And of course he recognizes their description. Turning them away unharmed shows weakness, which his team would never accept from their leader, but Reynie doesn't want to harm his friends either.

Which gives him only one other option: to confront them. He has his security bring them to his office.

The Scene:

The men roughly shoved them into the room.

"These people came to see you boss. They said they were friends of yours."

Reynie looked up at his friends, who had just been pushed unceremoniously into his office.

"Thank you," he nodded, waving his hands to dismiss his security team.

Then he sighed.

"How did you find me?"

His friends didn't answer at first.

"That's what you want to know?" said Kate. "You're running the criminal underworld, and that's the first question you have for us? The route we used to get here?"

"Not the route. My location. How did you find me?" asked Reynie.

"Anonymous tip off. A coded message," said Constance. "Seems some of your men aren't as loyal as you thought."

Reynie looked disappointed, but shrugged.

"That's not all that uncommon in this line of work," he clarified. "Whoever it was will be dealt with accordingly. Snakes will be snakes"

"But since when are you one of them?" asked Kate.

Reynie sighed.

"I don't expect any of you to understand."

"You're right Reynie," said Sticky. "We don't understand. You were always the best of us. The one who reminded us who we were, what we stood for. How could you ever think something like this was right?"

"The best of us?" Reynie repeated disbelief.

"I was the average one, the one who wasn't special. I wasn't a genius, or a psychic, or some sort of super athlete. I was just me. I'm not special."

"So that's why you're doing this?" asked Constance. "To feel special?"

"No," said Reynie. "I'm doing this because it's inevitable. The cycle just repeats itself. We fight another bad guy, we almost fall apart, I hold us together, it takes everything out of me, I finally recover, and then we go around again. The only way to end the cycle is to become a part of it."

"Takes everything out of you?" repeated Sticky. "Reynie, we had no idea-"

"It's fine," dismissed Reynie. "Like I said, this is for the best."

"You really believe that?" asked Kate, shocked her friend could ever really think something like this was right. "You...your men...you're criminals! The worst criminals!"

"We are," agreed Reynie. "I won't deny that. But when you make yourself the king of the snakes, you decide how poisonous they are. These men follow me because they know I'm intelligent and powerful enough to let them get away with the crimes they want and have all the money and power they desire. That's a better deal than most other bosses could give them. But they also know that comes at a price, that certain things are off limits. If I hear any rumors of human trafficking or exploiting or harming children, well, then I'm sure to make an example of them. To remind them that I'm in control and that I have my standards."

"Make a example of them?" said Kate, her eyes widening.

"That...that doesn't mean what I think it means...right Reynie?" asked Sticky.

Reynie couldn't help but feel a little ashamed as he watched Constance, who had always looked up to him as her protector, her big brother, take a step away from him when she saw from his face that his words meant exactly what Sticky thought they meant.

But he didn't back down.

"They were human traffickers and people who abused children," Reynie said simply, trying his best to remain logical. "You can't say they didn't deserve it. If I wasn't running the criminal underworld, someone else would, someone who would be just as cruel, maybe worse, and would likely choose less deserving targets. It's no different than carrying out justice."

"And who made you the judge, jury and executioner?" asked Constance, crossing her arms.

"We're going to stop you," said Kate, raising her fists.

"Really?" said Reynie, his expression turning dark at his friend's declaration.

"I think you'll find that harder than you expect. You three might have been the talented ones, but I was the one who kept you together. I know you. I know how to build you up, and I know how to bring you down."

His friends looked horrified by the threat. Even worse, they looked hurt.

"I don't want it to come to that," Reynie clarified. "But it will if you stand against me. I don't want to hurt you, but trust me, I can. Worse than you can imagine. And I will. I know how it sounds, but believe me when I tell you that this is the only way."

The others were shocked by his words. Reynie cared for them; Reynie protected them.

How could he threaten them so easily? How could he have become so misguided?

Sticky thought a bit about what his friend had said, and tried one last time to reach him.

"We understand where you're coming from, really Reynie, we do," said Sticky. "But this isn't the way to do things. You're still hurting people in other ways, and I agree that people need to be brought to justice but this...this isn't the way to do it."

"We didn't know it was so hard for you," added Kate. "You were our leader Reynie. And you're right. You held us together, you kept us strong, and you were always there when we needed you. To remind us who we are. I'm sorry we didn't appreciate that more. But now it's our turn to be there for you. To remind you who you are."

Reynie didn't answer for a moment.

"And who do you think that is?"

"Our friend," said Kate.

"Some who is kind, gentle, intelligent, wonderful, and anything but average," added Sticky.

"Someone who knows deep down that this is wrong," said Constance, poking her way around the edges of Reynie's mind.

"Someone who's better than this."

Reynie couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You...you really think that?" he asked. "After everything I've done... you really think that's who I am?"

"We do," said Sticky.

"We all do," agreed Kate.

"I know it," said Constance, as Reynie felt her enter his mind, unearthing the guilt, shame, exhaustion, and pain that he'd kept buried for so long, as well as the love, compassion, and the values he'd put aside and tried to forget about.

They were still a part of him. An unused and forgotten part, but nevertheless, they were still there.

"Your friends are right Reynie."

Reynie turned to see his mother enter his office.

"Amma?" he asked in a small voice.

"But, but I don't understand- how...how did you-"

"For the leader of the criminal underworld, you have pretty bad security. They're easy enough to knock out with a few blow darts and they are much too unsuspecting of a simple old woman," his mother replied with a sad smile.

Reynie's heart dropped. She knew?

One look in her eyes told him everything. Of course she knew. She knew when he started staying out late and never telling her where he was going, when he came back with scars and a haunted look in his eyes that he couldn't explain, when he begged her for the millionth time to stop asking questions, when he moved her into a bigger fancier private house and had the property constantly surrounded by security guards because of a "promotion" that he refused to explain.

His mother was kind, but she certainly wasn't stupid.

And then Reynie realized.

"The coded message. You brought them here."

Dipika nodded.

"You needed them Reynie. You needed to be reminded of who you are."

Reynie hung his head.

"Amma-" he began, but his voice trailed off.

What could he say? What words could ever make it up to the woman who'd taken him in, who'd given everything to him? There was nothing he could say, not when she knew what he'd done, what he'd become.

"Oh Reynie," said Dipika, walking forward to hug her son, who trembled at the affection he knew he didn't deserve.

"I know," she whispered. "I know you're sorry. And I'm sorry too. I'm sorry I wasn't enough. I'm sorry I couldn't reach you. But it's not too late. I promise Reynie. It's never too late."

At last, Reynie broke down, returning his mother's embrace as the three people who refused to give up on him even when he'd given up on himself stepped forward to hug their friend.

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

I apologize for nothing, or maybe I will if enough people tell me this was disturbing and that they didn't like it, which honestly? Fair enough. Anyway, have a lovely evening! 🥰

[cheegu3]

Hey can I request a yandere juyeon (the boyz)

By the way I don’t really know how to write request (this is actually my first time!!) and don’t worry if you don’t want to write this request you can ignore this

Wishing you a nice day

hi, your request was perfect don’t worry. I was actually really happy to receive this even tho it took some time bc tbz is one of the groups I really like rn ! c:

tw / trigger warning; yandere themes, abusive relationships, stalking, creepy behavior, murder, blood, cursing, kidnapping

wc; 1.8k

note; u didn’t write a prompt so I came up with one myself, I hope u like it 🖤🖤

Juyeon - 02:04

You could hear his footsteps behind you and the occasional pants, echoing against the walls of the alleys and tunnels you passed by. But he sounded nowhere near as tired as you did, which was a terrifying realisation.

Despite lungs and legs burning, screaming for you to stop and give up, give into the predator chasing you - you kept running.

Time felt like it had been moving incredible slow ever since you first noticed a figure following you on your way home from work. So you weren’t even sure how long had passed.

'' Y/n? ''

You almost stopped mid-step as the person called out your name. They knew you? Was it maybe someone from work who didn't have any bad intentions?

You shook your head at your own overly optimistic and naive assumptions. No person with pure intentions would chase someone down when they noticed they'd scared them.

So when rounding yet another corner in the small alleyway you'd been forced into; instead of stopping and turning around, you dove into a small gap between two food stands and crouched down, pressing a hand over your mouth.

The running footsteps came to a halt momentarily, as the owner of them must've been confused on which way you went. But not long after, they returned again - right towards the direction of your hiding spot.

You weren't sure what had caused him to happen to choose the exact way you went, perhaps it was luck for him and karma for something for you.

Laying down on the wet ground below, you crawled on the ground to get cover behind a sign standing in front. It was pretty much useless anyway, if he went down all the way and passed by the stands, just turning his head would make him look down right at you.

Feeling anxiety increasing when you heard him continue walking down it, your nails almost dug into the flesh of your cheeks.

'' Y/n? '' he shouted again.

Your blood froze in your veins. That sounded a lot closer than last time. Slowly, as if you were scared any movement at all would alert him of you, you turned your head upwards. He was right there, a meter away from your stand and he was only getting closer.

You held your breath, despite knowing it was over. Confirming your depressing thoughts, you were dragged out just a second later by your arm and a scream of terror ripped from your throat.

'' Ju...Juyeon? '' you blinked up at the attacker, struggling to make him out under the lack of light.

He moved closer, just under a light and you shuddered, shaking your head and trying to back away on the ground, the soles of your shoes digging into it.

It was Juyeon. He was a colleague who had just started working at your job. Being very shy, he rarely spoke to anyone and you hadn't talked to him except for when the introductions took place.

'' Why did you follow me? ''

He flashed a broad smile that made his eyes crinkle, quite inappropriate for the situation. Either he was terrible at reading the room and had no social skills or he had bad intentions, the latter you felt was more credible.

'' I'm in love with you. ''

'' What? ''

'' I'm in love with you, y/n. '' he sheepishly repeated, going back to looking shy again.

You were too stunned to say anything, just watching him closely to see if he'd continue.

'' I didn't really know how to talk to you so...''

'' So you followed me like a creep? ''

He nodded eagerly.

'' I want to go home now. ''

Your eyebrows furrowed and you tilted your head. '' Okay? ''

It seemed you two had completely different ideas of what that meant. You were caught off guard when your colleague suddenly pulled your leg towards him, making you get dragged on your back and then you were heaved over his shoulders.

'' What the fuck are you doing? Put me down! ''

'' I want you to live with me. ''

Juyeon started moving out of the alley, back the same way you'd come from.

You screamed, trying your best to grab ahold of the walls of the buildings. However, nails struggling to grab anything but air left you hanging limp against his back in no time.

'' Stop screaming. '' he hissed under his breath. '' I don't want to hurt you. ''

The world started moving a lot faster, just as the sounds of people's laughs echoed to where you were. You kicked and wriggled as a spark of hope was ignited inside.

Maybe if you somehow managed to fall over his shoulder, you could land in a non-injuring way and sprint with all you had with the help of the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

He stopped, but when you tried to move around and turn your head, his hold around your legs became harder, almost digging into your skin.

'' What are you doing? ''

You stilled, it was a voice you didn't recognize. Did he stop because someone saw the two of you in the dark?

'' Help me! '' you cried out, taking your chance.

The voice didn't respond again. It was deadly silent until you heard what sounded like a person running, getting closer to where you were.

Without warning, Juyeon threw you right into the wall to his side, causing you to land on top of some trashcans. You groaned out in pain, head pounding wildly as you had hit it on the way down.

Rolling on the cold ground, you craned your neck to the best of your abilities to see if you could see the person that had come to help.

It was a woman. She stood in front of your colleague, immobile with mouth opening and closing continuously as if her whole system was malfunctioning.

Juyeon had his arms out, standing a few meters away from where you were.

'' What do you want? '' he said in a low tone, taking a step towards the poor woman.

You tried to slowly make your way to standing, but it was very hard. Your muscles felt stiff and several places ached, others probably had scrapes with blood dripping out of them.

'' I-I just...'' she swallowed thickly and grimaced, looking like she was regretting the whole thing. '' I came to help. ''

'' There's no one who needs help here. ''

The woman stepped to the side so she could get a clear view of you. Juyeon was quicker. He turned around and blocked her again by approaching you and crouching down.

You looked confused. Not sure what he was trying to do, you analyzed his face. But nothing was there, he didn't have any emotions whatsoever on his face.

That's why you almost gasped in horror when you saw his hand move, instinctively your eyes darted towards it and you saw something shiny - a knife.

He twisted it in his fingers to make sure you saw it. It was hidden under his sleeve, the handle touching his palm while only a small fraction of the blade was visible.

You were about to say something and he could sense it. Without uttering a single word he said a lot by merely turning his face a bit to the side, to the direction of the woman. You knew what he was insinuating.

'' Please don't hurt her. '' you whispered, only loud enough for him to hear.

'' Then say what I want you to say. ''

You looked at each other for a few seconds in silence. Your pleas went ignored, so with a heavy sigh you said to the woman, '' I'm sorry, I don't need help. ''

She didn't look convinced. Slowly she crept closer to where you where. Your eyes called out to Juyeon again, despite knowing it was already too late.

He got on his feet immediately and turning around he managed to quickly get the knife out fully before plunging it into her in one swift movement.

You felt your stomach flip as you saw his large hand come up to muffle her screams of agony, while the other continued twisting the knife deeper into her abdomen. Blood oozed out of the wound.

When her hands stopped trying to push his away and you saw the light slowly start to go out, you had to turn on your side. It was already too much to bear, seeing a dead body would send you into a full mental breakdown.

When Juyeon was done, he hurried over to you and he smiled sympathetically, giving you a few paths on the back upon realising you were hyperventilating.

'' It'll pass. '' was all he said before turning back again, presumably getting rid of the body.

You weren't sure what he did, because you didn't want to look. Your eyes were squeezed shut while you pressed your shoulder into the rough brick-wall on the left.

'' Let's go. ''

He helped you up when you didn't move from your spot. Then you let yourself be lead all the way over to a car that was parked far away, near the tunnel you initially started getting chased from.

You had many chances to run or ask for help when people passed by. But you were almost in a trance from having witnessed a murder. So your eyes were staring down at the ground the whole way.

It was pretty safe to say that even if you did those things, there was a silent threat in the air - I'll do it to you too.

However, despite the situation he kept glancing at you, a look of worry adorning his features. The hand that was placed firmly at your waist occasionally gave you soothing rubs.

'' Please get in without a fight. '' he begged under his breath after opening the door.

You got into the backseat, although you could see he was a bit disappointed by that. Before going to the driver's seat he quickly locked the car, being paranoid you'd run anyway.

When he got in and started driving, you felt more like yourself again, and even had the energy to look out of the window; wondering what the future held for you. Would you never go out again? Never go to work again? Would he kill you, or torture you?

'' I've loved you for a very long time. ''

You shook your head, an unamused laugh escaping your lips.

'' You've never talked to me before. ''

'' That doesn't matter. ''

'' That's not love, Juyeon. '' A single tear finally escaped from your tired eyes. '' You're sick. ''

[rewrite-this-story]

I know no one watches this show, and that's really unfortunate, but I have so many thoughts about Smash that I want to share, so you all get to either hear them or ignore this post entirely. I don't really care which.

First of all, Megan Hilty is an absolute queen!! I wish her name was more well known on Broadway because wow. Her voice is so powerful and I cry every time I hear her sing don't forget me. And I actually love ivy as a character with all my heart. She's beautiful and strong and so interesting. Yeah, she's flaws and human, but she tries so hard. I was so happy when she started getting the recognition she deserved in season 2. She makes mistakes, but then she gets back up every time. I also think she had incredible potential for directing and would have like to see that explored. She just deserved better in general.

I also don't like Karen at all. Not only is she kinda boring as a character, but she's not nearly as talented as everyone seems to think. Yeah, she's pretty and has a gorgeous voice, but she's really just a so-so actress and dancer. Her songs rarely make me feel anything like Ivy's do. At the end of season 1, I only cried during her version of don't forget me because I felt Ivy's frustration so deeply. Also, Karen is kinda rude and arrogant. Like, she has no clue how theater works but acts like everyone else is constantly out to get her just because they're asking her to do something differently. She can't remember her blocking and then complains that people don't like her. And she's so sensitive. No one can tease her or even comment anything that isn't 100% positive about her without her getting upset. Furthermore, Ivy's an interesting character who makes us really care about her because of how hard she tries and fails only to get back up again. Then, they throw in her past and emotional trauma and struggles with addiction. It's really hard not to care about and root for her. Why should I care about Karen? I liked hit list only because of Jimmy, Kyle, and even Anna. Karen didn't matter at all to me because she didn't really have to struggle or fight for anything. She was kinda just along for the ride.

Third thing, Derek sucks and is super problematic, but it was nice to see him stay to grow and improve. I would've liked to see where season 3 might've taken him. I do really like his relationship with Ivy because she calls him out on stuff, and he actually listens to her. It was dumb that he never saw how truly incredible an actress she was. They would have made a great team after she really became more sure of herself and he realized how awful he was. His obsession with Karen was really weird, but I like to imagine he probably got over it by the end of season 2.

Tom and Julia were interesting, but I was actually happy to see them split at the end of everything. She always kind of took advantage of him and it bothered me. He also deserved a real relationship story, but I'm not surprised he didn't get one since he was a gay character in 2012. His relationship with Kyle was kinda creepy and Kyle should've dated either Sam or that dancer we saw him flirting with earlier in the season. Either one of those would've been less uncomfortable. Him and Sam were also never really a good match. Plus, he did Sam kinda dirty in season 2. But yeah, he should've gotten a good relationship.

I do think Sam should've gotten the lead in hit list. He deserved it, Jimmy didn't. Jimmy did a good job, obviously, but he wasn't reliable and was really uncooperative. He could've just given feedback as a writer instead of being the lead actor. I get why they did it the way they did for the TV show, but realistically, it just didn't make sense.

Kyle's death was awful. I wish we saw more of him. I think his relationship and history with Jimmy was interesting, I think it should've been explorers more instead of Jimmy and Karen, who's relationship was kinda predictable and overused. It would've been nice to see him and Jimmy sing together sometime. I wish he sang a few more songs in general because he has a really cool sound.

Jimmy and Derek also could've had a really interesting relationship if it hadn't centered around Karen as much as it did. I think they could've really helped each other. Jimmy didn't take any bullshit and Derek didn't put up with any bullshit, so they could've kept each other in line. Derek also saw something in Jimmy that few people did and I think it would've been neat to see him become a bit of a mentor.

Finally, Derek and Tom had so much potential that was never explored. Their history and their future are so unclear, but I have so many questions.

So yeah, I really did enjoy the show. It's not the most incredible show ever made, but it was fun and interesting. It's a shame it only got two seasons. I kinda blame the marketing team since so few people know it ever existed.

[arifeathers]

Smiling Critters: Catnap 🌙

Age: 17 yrs old

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Demiromantic Pansexual

Family: Unknown (he’s been an orphan for as long as he’s known.)

Hobbies: Sleeping, Knitting, Playing his harp

Likes: Dogday ❤️, Peaceful nights, playing music, knitting, his friends, sleeping and being lazy.

Dislikes: Early mornings, strange nightmares, loud noises, being a captive, feeling homesick for his old birthplace, creepy metal claws.

Favourite Flower: Lavender

Powers/Magic:

Red Smoke: Like his canon self; Catnap is able to emit a powerful red gas from his mouth, making anyone in its vicinity to fall asleep.

Dream and Sleep Magic: Coming from his birthplace, the Somnus Realm Catnap is able to do sleep and dream related magic in contingent with his Red Gas. He can manipulate others’ dreams to what he wants, dreamwalk into other dreams and is also able to predict future events in his own dreams. Despite this; his training is rather limited, due to being locked out of his birthplace since he was a child and can’t properly control his precognitive dreaming.

Headcanons (More to come soon):

Personality wise, Catnap is very passive, quiet and very sleepy-eyed. He used to be more anxious and rather feisty when he was younger. At certain times during the day, he enjoys playing pranks on his friends at times and loves teasing his best friend Dogday, which increased even more when the two finally started dating each other. Despite his somewhat distant and aloof attitude and appearance, he cares greatly for his friends; especially Dogday whom he known since childhood and believes he can’t exist without in the world.

Unlike the other Smiling Critters, Catnap hails from the Somnus Realm (Somnus means sleep.) where the other beings like him are in charge of granting sleep and dreams to the living realm below. However he was constantly alone due being the only orphan and also being extremely shy and anxious , keeping to himself and either playing or hugging his crescent moon harp that was found with him, since he was a baby kitten. Until after an incredibly vivid nightmare of a strange metal claw, he woke up to find himself lost on the Living Realm and unable to go home ever since, with his harp being the only thing he has left of his birthplace.

He doesn’t remember his family or why he became an orphan in the first place. Nowadays he considers the other Smiling Critters the closest thing he’s got to a family, except for Dogday due to feeling something more than a platonic love.

Has known DogDay since he was seven years old. It was a case of being in the right place at the right time for the two of them as Catnap had just found himself lost on the Living Realm and Dogday was just abandoned by his family for being the “useless runt of the litter”. It was a little awkward and tense when the two first met but managed to bond over finding common ground over being orphans and ended up sticking together, wandering the vast world before coming to Critters Valley and meeting the other Smiling Critters.

Aside from playing his harp as a way to relax, he also enjoys knitting and is often seen doing it in his house. Most of his clothes, blankets , scarves and pillows are all made by his own hands and enjoys making them lavender scented when possible. He is also the one to knit Dogday’s hoodie coat and his purple bandanna.

Is very lazy and prefers to stay indoors lying down, napping and staying in his pyjamas. But when he does go outside, he merely throws on his purple off shoulder sweater over his pyjama top and changes his pants. He also doesn’t like shoes but mostly wears them due to DogDay worrying that he’ll hurt himself going out barefooted.

Dreams about future events every now and then. Initially it was about his friends like PickyPiggy getting covered in flour or Hoppy Hopscotch or Kickin Chicken getting hurt from one of their usual activities, but has been having frequent nightmares about the same metal claw he’s seen since he was seven and a lanky, malnourished and messed up version of him. DogDay is the only one he confides in the most about them, but doesn’t give a lot of details.