#why do all of my favorite cartoons always disappoint me. why god why

[botslayer9000]

sigh. maybe i don't like she-ra after all

[orions-choker]

+:★:+* Chapter Three: Jump In The Fire +:★:+*

The MetalliMansion was a shit show, no matter how much Y/N attempted to keep it clean it was always riddled with empty beer cans, cigarette butts and an unfortunate amount of playboy magazines. The only reprieve Y/N had was in her own room. Clean and organized, posters and collectibles in neat displays.

“God you guys are fucking disgusting.” She groaned, stepping over spilt beer in the kitchen as she rummaged in the cupboards for cereal. “Clean up after yourselves you pigs.” Her nose crinkled in disgust.

From the couch Lars called out. “Dont like it find your own fuckin’ place, I still don't remember agreeing to let you live here.” There was no malice in his words. Infact as Y/N peaked her head around the corner to glare at him he smiled brightly back at her.

She flipped him off, sticking her tongue out. “That's why you're my least favorite.” She teased. Bowl of cereal in hand she sat beside Lars on the old couch, stretching her legs across him. “Remote.” She mumbled around a mouthful of her food, hand outstretched.

“Do they not teach you manners here in America, fuck.” He placed the remote in her hand anyways. She dug her heels into his legs in retaliation. Grinning at the way he winced. “Bitch.”

The television changed to cartoons, Mighty Mouse. “You fuckin’ love me shut up.” She smiled at him. When she didn't hear him protest she took it as a victory. Lars fell back asleep shortly after that, never one to be up early anyways.

Behind her she could hear the groggy mumblings of her brother and Cliff. “Morning!” She called out cheerily. The responses she got back were less than enthused. “You guys have a flight to catch in the afternoon don't you? Get your shit together.”

The boys were flying out to Denmark to record their next album. It frightened her to be alone now. She had been with everyone for a year now, ever since their first tour she hadn't left their sides. She couldn't go with them this time. Someone had to stay behind and take care of the house, pay the bills.

“Flights not till four.” James grumbled at his younger sister, sitting down with a coffee in hand.

“And it is currently one, airports an hour away dude.” She pushed his head to the side affectionately. “I work in an hour so i'm not gonna see you guys off.” She frowned.

Kirk stumbled into the living room next, his hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, glasses crooked on his face. Y/N stood up with her empty bowl and straightened the eyeware on his face before walking past him to the kitchen. “You're not gonna be there?” Kirk mumbled at her, sleep and disappointment laced in his voice.

Y/N shook her head. “Sorry Kirky, it's Sunday, happy hour starts early at the bar today for all the old people.” She sighed. She didn't want to miss seeing them leave either. Knowing she would come home to an empty house after her shift made her feel empty. “I'll miss you though, all of you.”

Cliff's presence was beside her, pulling her into a warm half hug. “Just a month, we'll be back before you know it.” He comforted her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before moving to grab his own cup of coffee. It brought a smile to her face again.

She had gained two extra brothers, Cliff and Lars. As much as the latter pissed her off she loved him all the same. She made a point to not include Kirk in her affections the same way, the desire that burned beneath her skin when she saw him wouldn't allow her.

“A month of peace might actually be nice.” She grinned, she didn't mean it and they knew that.

“A month without your best friend? Sounds lame.” Kirk's voice was still heavy with sleep, his voice just slightly deeper though still tinged with that same boyishness she was used to. “Who's gonna watch Evil Dead with you repeatedly?”

Best friend, she wasn’t sure when that title came into effect. She wasn’t completely upset about it, though some part of her ached everytime Kirk called her that. Y/N had made her peace with the desperation she felt to be more than just his friend. But it was true all the same he had become her best friend, not that there was any competition.

Her eyes glinted with something wicked. “Hmm doesn't really matter, I can always find someone else.” She shrugged nonchalantly, reveling in the faux hurt on Kirk’s face. “Be right back!” She giggled, quickly running up the stairs before Kirk shook the sleep from himself and chased her.

She had started working at the bar just down the road as soon as they got back from tour. She found it ironic, the way she was unable to drink alcohol at her age, but be a waitress and serve it? That was totally fine. Halfheartedly she got ready for work, her hair was growing out now, finally long enough to pull back into a ponytail without loose strands. She pushed her bangs from her face and did minimal makeup. She found she got better tips from creepy old men when her face looked ‘fresh’. Her uniform was nothing more than a black collared shirt and matching pencil skirt. She didn’t think it did much for her in terms of looks but the eyes on her said otherwise.

Skipping down the stairs two at a time, Y/N grabbed her purse hanging by the door. The boys all sat in the living room, more alert and more dressed. She smiled fondly at the sight of all of them. “I have to get going now, you guys are going to call me tonight when you make it to where you're staying right?” She asked stepping forward to give them each a hug.

She lingered the longest on her brother and Kirk before pulling away. “Yeah of course.” James assured her with a smile. “Aaaand we will call you at least twice a week, blah blah.” He made fun of her worries.

“God forbid I care about you fucks and don’t want you like dying when your like a million miles away.” Her top lip curled into a snarl as she kicked at James’s leg.

“So it would be okay if we died here?” Kirk asked, provoking further.

“Yes because then at least I could kick the shit out of your guy’s bodies for being fucking idiots.” She growled and lunged to attack him next.

Kirk quickly sidestepped her attempt with a laugh, reaching to pull her into another bear hug and trapping her arms beside her. “Don’t worry I could never die and leave you alone.” He whispered into her ear, low enough that no one else could hear. It sent goosebumps down her skin, her body stiffening in his hold before she quickly pulled herself away.

With a groan she gave her final goodbye. “Ugh I hate you guys, be safe.” The door closed behind her as she stepped into the slightly cooler California winter, nowhere near cold enough to bother with a jacket. The walk to her work was a short one, part of the reason she applied there in the first place.

The bar was old, run down, certainly not a hot spot for nightlife activity. Most of the patrons were older folk, making it easy not to deal with young drunk assholes, and she made great tips from old men with lingering eyes. She liked Sundays. It was an early start and dead at night, meaning she got cut quickly and could go home early.

“Hey Y/N.” From behind the bar a young woman greeted her, punctuating her sentence with a pop from her lips as she smacked gum between her teeth. Steph was a couple years older than her, just 21 and the bartender at her work. She was cute, tall and lean, long black hair and pretty dark eyes. She was a favorite for people to look at, including Y/N. Despite her interests in a certain curly haired guitarist Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed to find out Steph had a boyfriend.

Y/N smiled brightly, excited to see they were working the shift together today. “Hey Steph! How’s it been today?” She asked sweetly, sliding behind the bar to set her stuff down and relax for a moment.

“Oh the usual, we’ve had two customers all day but we should get a rush here in a second.” She waved her well manicured hand, dismissing the small talk. “So your brother is in that band Metallica? Right?” She asked, a surprising amount of intrigue in her voice.

Confused Y/N nodded. As far as she was aware Steph really only listened to music like Bauhaus and The Cure. “Oh James? Yeah he is.” Y/N tied her apron tight around her waist. “Why? Have a sudden interest in thrash metal?” She joked.

Steph shook her head with a giggle “Oh god no, thank you.” Her face scrunched up in playful disgust. They might not share the same music taste but the two girls had become fast buddies at work. “My boyfriend is though! and I heard him talking about them the other day, said they were probably gonna get really big here soon and I remembered you mentioning your brother.” She explained.

Y/N’s heart swelled with pride. She knew the band was great of course, but she may or may not have been a bit biased. Hearing of the boy's success and more people talking about them excited her. She nodded, a blush coming to her cheeks. “Yeah they kick ass, glad your boyfriend thinks so too.” She grabbed her notepad and pen, tucking it into her pocket.

She felt as if she was on air the rest of the evening, floating from table to table as she served her regulars. Just as she had hoped she had been sent home around Seven, a couple hours earlier than she had been scheduled for. Making more than enough tips she was eager to leave.

The walk home was interrupted by a quick stop to the gas station across the street from her work. Grabbing a slush and a bag of mixed candy, she was set for the evening now. The walk home was slightly more chilled with the mixture of sweet ice on her lips. The sweets did little to ease the empty ache in her heart as she returned home to silence. The boys did their best to clean up after themselves and it brought a smile to her face.

The couch felt too big and empty as she lay across it alone, flipping the channel to a random network that was playing back to back B-Rate horror films. She assumed they should be landing soon, it was a ten hour flight. She would wait to go to bed until she got their call.

It was about halfway into the second movie she was watching when the worn out phone on the side table rang. Y/N smashed her knees on the ground, tumbling from the couch and crawling toward the phone. She was out of breath, voice laced with excitement as she picked up the call.

“Hello!”

“Hey Princess.” the groggy voice of her older brother came crackling through the phone. “We made it safe.”

Y/N sighed in relief. “Oh good, you made it to a hotel?” She asked balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder.

There was an annoyed grunt over the phone. “No, were sleeping at the fucking studio on the floor, lars the prick is staying with family and wouldn't let us tag along.” James was tired and pissed, Y/N didn't want to press the issue any further, she didn't have to when she heard a familiar voice muffled in the background.

“Let me talk to her, move.” Kirk sounded more energetic than her brother as he overtook the phone. “Dont worry about us though Y/N, we'll be fine.” He instantly reassured her. It brought a dumb smile to her face knowing how well he knew her.

“Thanks Kirky, you guys should get to bed then.” She reminded them fondly, her finger twirling in the cord of the phone as she reveled in the comforting sound of Kirk's voice. “I love you guys.”

The was a stark silence for a moment, Kirk's heavy breathing the only noise that could be heard. “I- we love you too Y/N, talk to you tomorrow I promise.” There was a click, then silence, then the static of a dead phone line.

[totallyf1ne]

Chapter one - Bus stop

I hate riding the bus to school. It's loud and people don't know how to just sit the hell down, But I guess as long as I have my earbuds on and I'm sitting in a window seat I'm totally fine.

I just can't wait until Chester gets the money to finally buy himself a car. He's had his license since sophomore year, so it's about time he has a car.

He wants a Mazda Mx-5, a silver one to be specific, how do I know? Well one, he tells me about it all the time, and two, he makes us go to the auto mall near the rundown KFC and just stares at it for literal hours on end.

Last week when we revisited it I asked him “Why don't you ask your parents to just buy it for you or something?”

His parents are wealthy as hell, so it was a pretty good question. He said the reason was because they wanted him to learn to make money for himself and not always rely on his parent's wealth. I think that's pretty stupid and personally believe that if you have money, you should spend it.

I'm Jane McCarter, I'm 17 years old and I live in Bakersfield California with my dad and my pet fish.

I am currently a senior at Westfield High and my best friend, the dork I mentioned earlier, is Chester Allen, we've been friends since 5th grade.

I'm not really “close” friends with any other person besides him and if I'm being honest, Id prefer to just stick with that. Well, I have these... “Acquaintances” that I don't really hang out with but just chat with, like Markus for example, he's chill.

—

As Jane hops off the last step of the bus, she almost bumps Markus Reed, who was on his longboard but quickly makes an abrupt stop and takes off his headphones. “Oh shit, I'm sorry Jane,” he says as he picks the longboard up with one hand. “It's whatever, don't worry about it.” Jane says, dusting off her denim skirt “soo, I didn't see you last Sunday? You said you'd cover my shift?” Markus said scratching his elbow. “Oh yeah uh, I forgot to tell you, I quit.” Markus’s grin fades “What? Really? Why??” he whines as they start walking down the sidewalk.

“I dunno, my parents want me to get a better-paying job with more hours.”

“Oh, I see,” Markus says before loudly sighing, a little disappointed that he’s lost one of his favorite working buddies. He always liked working with Her. “Well, good luck with that. I’m sure you’ll find something good.”

They walk in awkward silence for a moment before Markus speaks up again. “So, how’s Chester doing?”

“He’s good,” Jane says. “He still hasn’t gotten that car, though. I really hope he gets it soon 'cause I’m tired of taking the stupid god-forsaken bus.” She says before rolling her eyes.

“Yeah I hope he gets that car soon too, I want him to drive me to the Winter Formal this year,” Markus says as he flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands together, cartoon hearts practically appearing in his eyes.

“Ugh,” she groans. “don’t tell me you still have a thing for fucking Chester Allen. Trust me he’s not into you He thinks you're, and I quote, “spazzy super–senior”. Jane air quoted with her fingers.

“I can’t help it! I have a thing for nerdy, zit-ridden, glasses-wearing men! And i don’t give two shits about what he says nor thinks about me.” He flips his jet-black hair over his shoulder. Jane rolls her eyes at his antics.

“Mark! Over here, dude!” One of Markus’s friends called out from one of the corners of the school. “Well, I’ll see you later, Janey Waney.”

“Never call me that again, please.” Jane pinches the bridge of her nose as he chuckles and continues down the sidewalk on his longboard toward his group of friends.

She starts walking towards the school doors and pushes them open, a whiff of cheap Ross cologne and smelly sweaty teens fill the air.

Humming a tune to herself, she wondered where the hell her best friend was and why he was so late.

Walking down the hallways she unclasps her grey, sticker ridden, Nokia flip phone from the waistband of her long skirt, a Skelanimals keychain dangles from the end as she opens it up, clicking the tiny buttons to find Chester’s number. Once she finally finds it, she presses and hears the ring, waiting for an answer.

“JANE!” Chester shouts out from behind her. “Holy shit Chester don’t fucking do that! I nearly pissed myself!” people turn their heads, but when they see where the loud voice was coming from they roll their eyes and go back to whatever they were doing.

“Sorry! Sorry! But I’ve been looking for you for a long time! you weren’t at the bus stop or at your locker?!?” He frantically says, out of breath from all the speed-walking he’s been doing searching for her.

"Relax! got sidetracked talking to Markus Reed," Jane explains, placing her phone back on the waistband of her skirt as they begin walking down the hall.

. "I had to tell him about me quitting Hot Topic, and then he started talking about how much he wanted to rail you or something, I don’t remember, I kinda tuned him out."

Chester’s face cringes. “Markus reed? Gosh, I hate that guy. He’s so weird with me.”

“Yeah I know, you tell me every time his name comes up,” Jane says before finally approaching her locker, twisting the lock to enter her combination and swinging it open to grab her textbooks.

She changes the subject. "The school bus can be such a pain sometimes. But at least I don't have to worry about finding a parking spot.”

Chester lets out a small laugh. "True, true, I can't wait until I finally get my baby (his car). Then we can drive ourselves to school and not have to worry about being late, fighting for a seat on the bus, or having our parents drive us."

Jane lightly grins. "Yeah. But in the meantime, we'll just have to make do.” She says before locking back her locker and placing the textbooks in her satchel.

As they walk back down the hallways towards their shared first period, She starts to wonder if she'll ever be as “outgoing” as Chester is. He seems to know most people in the school (seeing how he is vice president of the student council) and is always involved in some sort of activity or club. Jane herself has always been more of an introvert, preferring to stick with her small group of friends instead.

As they approach their English class, Jane spots Ms. Silvera, their teacher, standing outside.

Before they could enter the classroom, someone else pushed them to the side to enter before them. “excuse me!” They say with a soft giggle, pink Prada kitten heels tapping their way to their seat.

When Jane realizes who it is, anger and frustration start to boil up inside of her.

“Fucking.. Merianna Smith…” she says furiously under her breath.

It takes Chester a second to realize and when he does he has a face of worry and concern for his fellow goth bestie. “Jane just ignore her and don’t let it ruin your day, trust me it’s not worth it dude.” He says while comfortingly rubbing her shoulders.

As Chester tries to console her, Jane feels a pang of guilt for letting her hate toward Mary almost ruin another year of school. She takes a deep breath and shrugs her shoulders out of Chester's comforting hands.

"You're right, you're right," she says, calming herself down. Chester gives her a big smile before leading her inside Ms. Silvera's English class. Jane takes her seat next to Chester and tries to focus on the teacher's lesson, but she can't help feeling that her tension is still palpable.

Her eyes shift towards Mary, who is sitting 2 seats away from her and applying mascara while chatting with her posse/clique, not bothering to listen to the teacher's lesson.

Jane tries to remember when she even started to hate this girl. Was it all because of some stupid middle school drama? Or was it jealousy?

[darkcrowprincess]

My thoughts: fair warning to people who are following me. I'm a lunter shipper, I don't like Amity's character at all. Lunter just makes more sense to me. I'm not a fan of miraculous lady bug anymore do to bad writing and because I just don't like Marinette's character anymore(she's so annoying). I love sailor moon, especially 90s English dub because thats what I grew up with, usagis new English voice actor's voice is annoying, so I don't listen to the new English dub. Don't like sailor moon crystal because the animation sucks and they took out everything I loved about the 90s one. Don't understand why my little pony is so popular or ever will. I love catradora, and don't understand the hate on catra' character. I think catra had a perfect story arc. I love Shera and the princess of power as is. It's a great show. Plus it has Entrapta and she is my spirit animal. So don't get the hate for shera. I don't get new cartoons or new kid shows/teen show of today. They're all so bad, so sanitized, or just plain bad writing. I'm a zutara shipper(or just zuko finding happiness with anyone's besides mai. Don't like her character very much). I don't like legend of Korra, the writing was just really bad. Especially after season one. So never watched it after season one. I hate the cartoon movie Disney beauty and the beast and love the live action one so much. It's my favorite of the live action disney movies. Emma Watson was the perfect Belle and made her more relatable. The little mermaid is my Disney movie and don't get all the hate on Ariel. She's the best. Love all versions of the little mermaid. Even the original fairy tale and any movies based on the original fairy tale. I hate the frozen movies with the burning intensity of a thousand suns. The movies are just not good. Titanic is a good movie. I love that movie. I also love James Cameron's avatar movie(can't wait for the sequel) and never understood why it isn't more popular. I love 80s movies and 80s fashion( would not want to live during that era) especially 80s romance movies, or any 80s movies were the main character is female and relatable. Though I don't get the breakfast club or why it's so popular. I love criminal minds and true crime documentaries(especially ones with female criminals). I don't like the Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus book series. Mostly cause theres not enough Artemis in it, Hades would never cheat on his wife Persephone ever! I loved Rachels character and never really liked Annabeth. I thought she was a know it all. I honestly would have picked lukes side. Because the gods as parents suck! The whole concept of demi god children sucks and its abusive. That's mainly why I stopped reading. I love movies on classic novels, but will never read them. Mostly because they just seem so boring. I will never read jane austen because her books are just so boring to read. The language is so difficult to understand. Sam Manson is a horrible character and I don't like her with Danny. Danny's parents are abusive, and he deserves a better ending. The ghost king deserves a better ending. The only Classic novels I've ever read are written by Agatha Christie. I love her writing! Clary from mortal instruments is a mary sue and just Cassandra Clare's writing just seem really bad. Especially her world. The shadows hunters world is very black and white thinking. So I'll never read her books. The show looks really good though. And I like it so far. I love Harry Potter but understand why it's problematic now. And that just makes me really said. I hate when creators turn out to be jerks. Why I strongly believe never meet your heroes. They always disappoint you. My favorite movie this year is "Don't worry darling". I thought it was brilliant and had a good twist. I love ghibli movies and my favorites are spirited away, whispers of the heart, the wind rises, and howls moving castle. If I don't like a part in a book I don't finish it. And if the first paragraph in a book doesn't catch my attention I don't finish it. I love the original dark fairy tales. I love happy endings.

[miekasa]

random armin/mikasa/jean headcanons (college au)

↯ pairing: armin x (fem) reader, mikasa x (fem) reader, jean x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: college au, fluff, lets see how many times i can mention eren in writing that has absolutely nothing to do with him

↯ notes: this.... probably won’t be a regular thing, i don’t know that i can consistently continue writing for them, but this sure was fun and reminded me that i actually have feelings for someone other than levi :// didn’t ask for that, but here we are

ARMIN ARLERT

Would most likely get pretty good grades, but he can definitely be lazy about it and hear me out.

If it’s a class that he likes and is genuinely interested in (which is the majority of them), he’s going to put in the work—sometimes too much work—to make sure he’s doing well. He usually studies very meticulously, and stays on top of his game throughout the semester.

But if it’s one of those bs classes the university makes you take, or some kind of stupid elective that was the only course that could fit into his schedule? Well, Armin is smart enough to bullshit his way through anything, so he’s not going to exert himself for a class he doesn’t even care about. 

Oh, and he’s very vocal about complaining to you about said bullshit courses. (Completely justified, go off king).

“I swear sometimes the TA just lowers marks randomly to ‘keep the class average.’ Granted, I didn’t really study for the quiz, so I wasn’t expecting a stellar grade or anything, but I know they do that sometimes.” “Well, babe, why didn’t you study.” “Because I hate it, (Y/N).”

Like I said, takes school seriously and tries his best; but even he knows he doesn’t have to be at 100% all the time. It’s also kind of a flex how smart he is and how much he can get by on doing the absolute bare minimum.

Poor Connie is studying his ass off for their shared elective and Armin barely looked at the first page of the textbook, and he’ll probably get a 90 anyways.

Imagine he’s so caught up with his other classes, he actually forgets about a midterm for his stupid elective, and at first he’s freaking out, so you kind of have to remind him of who tf he is. You finally get him to relax and he blinks at you, “Oh right, I didn’t study because I didn’t have to haha nice.” 

Helps you prepare for presentations by letting you practice them in front of him. Actually gives good feedback, but sometimes he’s just watching you and not really listening.

Sometimes, you have to be the one to remind him to take a step back and take care of himself, before his schoolwork. He doesn’t like to worry you, and likely feels guilty when he sees you walking up to him in the library at 2am; so he won’t fight you on it, and just lets you help him pack up all his stuff and head home for the day.

Likes head massages. Maybe sometimes has faked a little bit of a headache to get you to massage his head and play with his hair. He’ll never tell.

If you rub his cheek while he’s laying on top of you, he will knock out like a baby. Almost immediately. It’s a surefire way to get him to go to sleep.

Schedules dates with you, and plans them out meticulously. Sometimes gets playful and sends you a whole ass e-vite.

“Armin, why do I have an email invitation for our date to the library?” “So that you don’t forget, of course.” “How could I forget, it’s later today, and you’re literally helping me study for my midterm.” “With popcorn!”

Probably the type to get a job on campus. You and your friends come to visit him when he’s on shift and annoy him. He secretly likes it.

Oh, he’s kind of shady. Scratch that, can be very shady. He complains about school to you, but also just complains to you in general; he doesn’t outwardly do that a lot, but you’re his confidant.

Sometimes you get surprised and call him out on it and you’re like “Oh my god, Armin, the poor girl didn’t mean to mess up the project,” and he’s like “Well. Sometimes people are idiots and it has to be said.”

Has a bad habit of rolling his eyes and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “Did you just roll your eyes at me.” “I don’t know, did I?” Bye.

His hands are always covered in some kind of ink/markings. Accidental brushes of his pens, streaks from his highlighters or markers, a little bit of lead from his pencil along the side of his palm.

Speaking of which, he strikes me as the kind of guy to keep a bullet journal. Not necessarily decked out and fancy with Polaroids and extravagant fonts; but definitely neat, and decorated to some extent, depending on how he’s feeling. It makes him feel organized.

He would pencil in important dates and markers of your relationship into said journal. “Friday night: museum date—remember to buy the tickets in advance.”

If anyone is going to buy, wash, peel, and cut up fruit for you, it’s going to be Armin.

Lowkey tutoring all of his friends, and might be the sole reason that Connie hasn’t dropped out yet. He likes tutoring you the most, though. 

Get this, sometimes he asks you to tutor him, even if he knows damn well he doesn’t need it. Maybe he’ll even sign up for a stupid elective if it’s a class you’ve taken before, just to have an excuse to get you to teach him something. 

Likes trying new things with you. He might not always like the new things that you try, but he’s open to trying them at least once. Well… most things anyways. Just don’t ask him to get up at dawn and go jogging with you.

I genuinely cannot tell if he would be a morning person or not. Maybe mid-morning. Probably not a rise-and-shine at 6am kind of guy, but is up by at least 10:00am every day. Very cute when he’s groggy though, and stumbles around a bit like a baby deer when he first gets up, especially if he’s hungry.

He likes to bike. And really likes when you go on bike rides with him. As long as you both are on your own bikes, you learned the hard way that tandem biking isn’t cut out for you.

Knows that all-nighters aren’t good for you, but sometimes you have to pull them anyways. If you both have a lot to get done, he’ll stay up with you and make sure you both take breaks and drink water.

Can twirl his pens in that really fast and fancy way, and can do the thing where he rolls it between all his fingers too. I’ll let you think bout the implications of that for yourself.

He likes watching cartoons, and reels you into all his favorites. Definitely likes to stay in on weekends watching cartoons with you and just chilling.

Will go to a party with you if you ask, or if his friends are hosting, but nothing beyond that. You didn’t hear this from me, but he’d probably like to smoke more than drink.

Sometimes you think he needs a break and you commission Eren to take him out for the night, but Armin still comes back looking more composed than him. A little sleepy and maybe a bit out of it, but not sloshed, much to your disappointment. “Eren, you really couldn’t have tried to be more a bad influence?? I was counting on you!!”

Eren’s confused, like, “Did you want me to get him white boy wasted??” “Yeah, kinda!! It’s what he deserves every once in a while. Ugh, next time I’m calling in Sasha, she knows how to drink.”

By the way, if you’re dating Armin, you’re kind of dating (or at least babysitting) Eren too. Or vice versa. Either way, they will also go on dates without you. (“Hanging out. We’re hanging out, and I’m tutoring him so he doesn’t fail Biology, (Y/N).” “Likely story, ocean eyes.”)

Can be touchy in a very absentminded way. He’ll reach out to play with your ears/earrings, habitually rub at your shoulders if you’re standing in front of him, mindlessly toy with the ends of your clothing. Half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he’s so cute.

Plays one sport—is on the soccer team. It keeps him busy, and forces him to focus on something that isn’t academics once in a while. He’s pretty good at it, too; he and Eren make a good team when they play together.

You and Eren tried to get him to join the baseball team too. Eren, because he likes playing with Armin. You, because, well… the uniforms. He would look so good in the uniform.

MIKASA ACKERMAN

Makes her classes look like a breeze, even though it’s at least 300 pages of reading and writing per week.

Kind of gives me Elle Woods “What, like it’s hard?” kind of vibes when it comes to schoolwork. You’re in awe of how she just did 75 pages of reading with a tiny ass font in one sitting, and she just blinks at you like “Was it supposed to be difficult?”

Speaking of which, she likes to read in general; for leisure, outside of her school work. She’ll recommend you books, too. If you don’t like to read, she’ll still try and rope you in with shorter stories, or just read them aloud to you herself. 

Sits at a table across from you while you both do your schoolwork independently. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a quiet, almost implicit sense of intimacy that she really likes.

Bundles you up when it’s cold, and won’t take no for an answer. You will wear a hat, whether you like it or not.

Always prepared—and by that I mean, she carries things on her that she realizes you might need. Tissues, extra pens, an extra pair of mittens. She strikes me as the kind of person to pay attention to details like those.

Likes to walk you to class, even if her class is very far away from your building. She doesn’t mind.

On that note, she knows your schedule pretty well, where it pertains to classes and personal interests.

If you’re the type of person who can slack off or even just get caught up in other things when it comes to school work, she’ll be there to keep you on track and hold you accountable. Usually through setting aside times to study with you, but can even be through small things like asking you how your assignment is going.

(Nevermind that you completely forgot about the assignment, and hadn’t even started it—but that’s the point; she knew that).

Hear me out: holding pinkies. Maybe not when you’re walking, but when you’re seated next to each other. The longer you’re together, the more likely she is to initiate it, too.

Would rather study at home/in her apartment than in the library, but if you like to study there, she can compromise a few days out of the week.

Makes you playlists, and they’re usually really good, because she knows you so well. Sometimes she gets cute and customizes the cover art to a picture of the both of you.

She’s your ride or die, so if you complain to her about a prof you don’t like or a TA you don’t think is fair she’s 100% on your side. She might not always be able to do anything about it, but she’ll definitely let you complain to her.

Texts you throughout the day to check up on you, but usually disguised through other questions. Asks what you want/had for lunch when she’s really checking to make sure you ate. Asks you what time your lectures end, just to make sure you didn’t skip it (again). Asks you what time you’re going to be done studying to make sure you don’t stay up all night cramming again.

Takes a genuine interest in your courses, and absolutely loves to listen to you talk about them.

If your classes are vastly different, she’ll still try and help you however she can, even if it’s only in small ways, like proofreading something for you.

Doesn’t use emojis alot, so your contact doesn’t have a bunch of hearts next your name on anything. But she does put your last name in as Ackerman. 

Has social media, but mostly uses it to keep up with her friends, and you. You’re in most of the few pictures that she does post, and she might not say it, but she really likes it when you post photos of/with her. 

Not sure why, but I think she’d be a pretty decent artist if she tried. That trend of doing glass paintings on TikTok? I think she’d be into that, and would plan out the whole thing as a date with you.

Keeps up with all your favorite shows to talk about or watch them with you. Sometimes she’ll purposely miss a few episodes so that she can spend the night and marathon them with you.

Likes to stay in and drink cheap wine and just watch or talk about whatever with you. You could watch a terrible show just to laugh and comment on it the entire time and she would be so happy. 

Doesn’t like to sit down on public transportation, and honestly would rather you didn’t either, but she’s not going to stop you from taking a seat. If you’re sitting, she’ll stand in front of/over you, and always keeps wire headphones long enough for you to share music that way.

The most insufferable human when she’s sick and she knows it. She hates being sick. And she knows you shouldn’t be around her or else you might get sick but she also just wants you to hold her. (You do).

Likes to sleepover at your place. Talks with you about your day while you lay down. Always smells good. Very cuddly when sleepy. 10/10.

Hates the act of doing her laundry, but likes doing it with you. Lowkey starts buying and using the same detergent and fabric softener as you because it makes her smell like you.

Gets very embarrassed if you kiss her in public. Very red in the cheeks, it’s kind of cute, so I wouldn’t blame you if you did it on purpose.

JEAN KIRSTEIN

Jean is… quite smart, if you ask me. Or, at the very least, analytical, which can be applied to a variety of academic settings.

The only thing is, he’s incredibly lazy about it. He wants to do well in school, and can definitely pull himself together for a midterm or an exam; but is horrible at keeping pace with all his other work and assignments on a regular basis.

He also can’t sit still, which is why even though he is very kind and chivalrous and brings many snacks to your study sessions, he is also competing for number one worst study partner. Right next to Eren and Sasha.

Gets pouty when you tell him you don’t want to study with him. “But… but… but I brought snacks! And bubble tea!” “Yes, but you also have the attention span of a rabbit, Jean.”

At the end of the day he understands… that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be bitter about it LOLOL. It’s fine, you can make it up to him by hanging out with him afterwards.

Is, like, classically trained in at least two instruments because his mom put him in lessons as a child. He used to hate it growing up, and he doesn’t practice much now, so he never talks about it.

One day you happen to mention something about comparing two songs, telling him they remind you of each other but you don’t know exactly why or why, and very nonchalantly he’s like, “They sound similar because they share the same major chord in the chorus, and they’re in the same key.” 

And you just kind of blink at him like, “Okay, Beethoven. How. How did you know that.”

Once you realize he can, like, actually play the piano and violin really well you’re always begging him to play for you. It doesn’t happen often—it’s not like he owns a violin anymore and he certainly doesn’t have a grand piano in his shitty college apartment—but sometimes you sneak into the music room when it’s empty and he’ll play something for you.

He’s a romantic at heart, so he doesn’t mind, and if anything kind of enjoys you watching him play. It’s much better than playing for random parents in a recital. You’re dead if you ever mention it to any of his friends though.

Also not a frat boy, but definitely likes to party. Everything with reason. If he crushed a midterm on Thursday, he deserves to throw back a few beers on Friday night, you know?

Touchy when he’s drunk. Well, touchier than normal; he’d be the most affectionate out of every one on a regular basis. But he’s touchy and messy when he’s drunk, so he’s all over you.

Messy, but happy. All smiles and giggles and red cheeks, with his arm around your shoulder, boasting you anybody who will listen about his super hot girlfriend.

He and Eren throw the best parties when they team up together. (Only slightly related, but those two, when drunk together, could probably pass as a couple; they’re so uncharacteristically happy, and affectionate. You may or may not be keeping some photo and video evidence of Eren and Jean drunk cuddling).

Sends you videos when you’re in the middle of class. And only then. He plans it to be annoying. Because he is annoying.

Also always sending you those in-messsage games while you’re in the middle of lecture or studying. “PLEASE play virtual pool with me!! I’ll even let you win one round!!” “I AM TRYING TO LEARN!!” “LEARN LATER 😡😡😡”

A fucking fiend in your Instagram comments. It’s a miracle none of them have been removed or reported for inappropriate content. Replies to OTHER people’s comments complimenting YOU!! He’s so much

@sashabraus: aww you look so cute @youruser!! that color looks so good on you 💕 @jeannotjean: omg omg tysm @sashabraus 😊 i picked it myself @youruser: SHE WAS TALKING TO ME @jeannotjean!!! ME!!! @jeannotjean: @youruser you have no proof 🙄 @youruser: SHE USED MY @!!!! GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS!!! @jeannotjean: you’re so hot when you yell at me via insta comments 🥵🥵🥵 would it be better if i slid into your dm’s instead 😫😫😉 @youruser: @jeannotjean BLOCKED!! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!

You try explaining your coursework to him and he’s just looking at you with puppy dog eyes like, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, babe, but you look hot while doing it, so, please, continue.”

He’s another cocky annoying bastard (endearing). Always tilting you head up to look at him and smirk at you. Pisses you off just to put his arm around your shoulder and be like, “It’s okay, I know you love me anyways.” Winks at you in public just to embarrass you. He’s the worst. The worst.

King of picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder for absolutely no reason at all.

He lowkey wants to get an ear piercing and uses you to talk him into it. “Don’t you think I’d look hot with a piercing? I think I would.” “You would look good regardless, Jean. So, do it if you want to.” “Right. But, like.... do you think I would look hot.”

For as annoying and cocky as he can be, the second you actually genuinely tell him you think he’s attractive or talented or whatever, he gets kind of shy. It’s very cute. 

Likes trying new restaurants with you, even though he really should stop spending all his money on food. Sometimes trying new restaurants means ordering from a new place, but it’s whatever, you know.

Honestly… the two of you would probably have a ridiculously high Uber Eats bill. You really should go outside and, like, be people every once in a while LOLOL

Okay, but it’s mostly Jean’s fault. For as much as he likes to party, and doesn’t mind hosting a party, he doesn’t do much beyond that. He hangs out with his/your friends, and with you, obviously, but he’s not the kind of guy to have his weekend booked up all the time.

He would much rather stay in with you, and talk trash about his stupid group project partners, and lay on your stomach and try to teach you how to play his favorite video games.

Spoiler: he fucking lies and/or leaves out key parts of the gameplay!! Just so he can crush you and laugh about it!! Annoying, but you’re the one keeping him around, so, who can you really blame but yourself.

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what’s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol

[quietmyfearswith]

needy little ; preferences

warnings —  DDLG, swearing, mentions of longing/missing someone,  mentions of leaving someone, teasing??

characters — dark!andy barber, dark!steve rogers, dark!ransom drysdale, dark!bucky barnes, dark!lance tucker,  dark!clark kent, dark!syverson, dark!august walker

a/n — THIS IS FIC  WITH DDLG DYNAMICS,, do not interact if youre not 18+,, finally??? a new fic???? oh my god im sorry, i may be a bit rusty..

tagging — @la-cey​ @doozywoozy​ @melancholyy-hill​ @pedropcl​ @beck07990​ @isysen​ @anna-bailey @briefnerdwobblerpainter

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays | cartoons | obssessed |little rules | innocent little | bratty little | little activities

masterlist | join my taglist! (please follow my rules)

After placing two scoops of the chocolate ice cream on the cone, Y/N lifted her head up to look at her daddy who sported a scowl on his face as he was drumming a pen in between his fingers as he tried to piece together the facts of the case. Normally, she wouldn’t be allowed so close to Andy as he was working, but given how needy she had been all morning — despite sitting right by his feet wasn’t enough for her — she promised to remain well-behaved and quiet for him so he gave her the green light to go ahead and stay with hi as she played with her scoop and learn toy set. Silently putting down her cone by the ice cream trolley, she moved towards his leg and when he didn’t move or acknowledge her, she clung her arms around his calf as her cheek snuggled up against his shin. “What?” Feeling something cling around his lower leg snapped him right out of his focused trance as his confusion easily melted into adoration as he peered down and saw his girlfriend curled up against him. “My petal’s quite needy today isn’t she?” “Sorry dada,” She said lowly as her fingers drummed rhythmically against his clothed leg, “Was behaved and nice.” Nodding, he then bent and carried her to sit on his lap. She squealed excitedly as she then wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face in his neck, “Wuv you, dada.” Humming, he rubbed her back soothingly as he looked into her eyes, “Need to hold dada huh?” The smile that formed on her lips was a toothy grin that was the attorney’s favorite sight in the whole world. “Want to hold you so much, dada; ‘m sorry,” She pouted at the thought of him being disappointed at her; sensing the drop of her mood, he then cooed and peppered kisses all over her face, feeling his prickly beard graze her skin prompted her to erupt in a fits of giggles as she loved the affection that he was showering her with. “This what you needed, my little petal?” He asked her in his gentle, playful tone as she nodded and snuggled herself against his chest as she toyed with his large fingers, “Mhm, love you so much, dada.”

“Hello?” August answered the phone call with a frown — Y/N was never one to call her boyfriend when he had missions that required him to go undercover and/or while he had overseas operations; so it was alarming that she called him he thought of only the worst possible scenarios. “Hi, daddy,” She sniffled out into the phone — part of her was relieved she got to hear his voice, but really she just longed to be with him. “What’s wrong, little one?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he impatiently tapped his fingers against the steering wheel; she let out a sigh before admitting, “Miss you, daddy. So sad without you.” Despite feeling pain on the field of his job, the sound of her small and vulnerable voice was the most painful thing he ever had to hear or endure. “Little one, have you been good for me?” She nodded against her phone as she hugged the Cinnamoroll stuffie that had a shirt specifically sewn on for the stuffie which had the words “daddy’s little one” embroidered on it, “I do, daddy. Miss your kisses and hugs so much.” As he parked his car in front of their yard he smirked as he answered her, “Well who knows when I’ll get back right?” He was positive that there was a pout on her lips as she thought of the likelihood that she was going to be alone for a while, “But daddy I miss you already!” Her whine was so loud that she didn't hear the way August opened up their front door and walked to the living room where she was lying in the couch; he ended the call and he could see her slumping down her shoulders from behind before jumping down beside her and hugging her, “Well good thing daddy’s home now, yeah?” She let out a shrilling shriek in excitement as she kissed his bearded cheeks repeatedly, “I missed you so much, daddy! Promise I was the goodest girl for you!”

“How are your chicken tenders, sweetie?” Bucky asked after pressing a kiss on her forehead; they were out to dinner with Sam and his girlfriend, Leila — who like her was a little too. After the two bonded over the activity paper the server handed to them, they both munched down on their meal. “So yummy, tătic! But,” She trailed off as she looked around nervously. After drinking down a chunk of his beer then looked at him with worry written on his face, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Without a word, she snuggled close to his side right as she tangled her arms around his metal arm before looking up at him with doting eyes, “All better, tătic!” Slightly picking up on what she was up to, he grabbed another chicken and tapped it on her lips; she moaned lowly when he fed her then snuggled up more to his arm. “Need my touch, don’t you sweetheart?” Shyly, she nodded as she played with his fingers, “Always want you close to me.” Sam and Leila were both busy being all snuggled up too so Bucky repeatedly, sweetly kissed her lips before telling her, “How ‘bout we take a bath later, sweetie?” Extremely thrilled with the idea of spending tub time with her daddy, she nodded too much that little chunks of the chicken she was eating escaped her mouth as she expressed her liking of his idea, “So excited for that, tătic! Can we go home now and bathe together?” Chuckling at the small mess she made, he wiped the sides of her mouth with a napkin then kissed her forehead, “Only a few more minutes before we can bath together, sweetie.”

“Into the tub you go, doll,” Steve sing-songed as he gently placed Y/N into the bathtub that was filled with warm water and soapy bubbles. She giggled as she felt the warm water graze her skin. For a while, she was busying herself with playing and blowing the bubbles; after a while, she was craning her neck to look for Steve, “Sir? Where are you?” A pout was now formed onto her lips that earlier was stretched out into a smile. The super soldier was in their shared bedroom preparing what she was going to wear after her bath when he heard her distressed call for him. Entering their ensuite bathroom the skin of his forehead wrinkled up as he approached her and kneeled down by the tub, “What’s wrong, doll?” A small amount of water splashed onto him when she crossed her arms, “Want you, sir.” Not fully understanding what she meant, he brought a hand to caress her back — as if to coax her into explaining as he said, “I am here, doll. What do you want?” “Want you here, sir,” Unclasping her arms from where they were crossed, she dropped her arms in the bubbly water and pouted at him. Nodding in understanding, he then stood up; hearing her whimper in need made him chuckle a bit, “I’m just gonna remove my clothes then join you in there okay, doll?” Gone was the frown that earlier donned her face for she now had a wide grin as she clapped when Steve slowly dipped in the tub, careful as to not spill water out of the tub. Once he was fully seated in the tub, his doll then moved over to him and hugged him tight, “Love you, sir.” Placing her on his lap, he then kissed the top of her head as he tried to calm his beating heart, “I love you too, doll. Now, how ‘bout we clean you up with your favorite shampoo hm?”

“Where you bringing me, baby girl?” Sy wondered out loud as he allowed his nearly 200 pound self to be whisked away. It was unusual of her to remain this quiet; for some her whining and blabbering would be annoying, but the Texan captain loved how verbal she was especially since it served as a constant reminder about how much he was needed by her. Upon being brought to the den of their house that served as the office, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he gently stroked her back, hoping to coax out an answer out of her, “What are we gonna in the office, baby?” She pointed to the landline phone and to the stuffed animal that arrived defective a few days ago. “You want me to make a call?” He asked and she nodded with a wide smile. “Why can’t you make the call?” The question was asked out of curiosity, but with the way she batted her eyelashes and bit her lip bashfully had him worried. A small smile graced his face when she opened her mouth, but she quickly closed it and instead grabbed a pen and paper. Sitting down on the swivel chair, he patiently waited for her to finish jotting down her message. When she was done, she shyly slid over the paper to him and once he read it the words broke his heart, “My voice is ugly. Who said this, baby girl?” Shrugging her shoulders she fiddled with her fingers but he placed her on his lap which allowed him to gently stroke her thighs, “Come on, baby girl, please talk to me? I miss hearing your pretty voice.” As if to prove his point, his beard tickled her skin as he pressed kisses on her throat; she giggled as her hands pushed his wide chest away and cleared her throat, “Some guy said my voice is too deep for a girl.” Sy’s jaw clenched in anger at the person who disrespected his girl’s feature; a thick finger of his hooked under her chin to make her look at him, “Listen to me, okay? Don’t listen to the meanie who said that. Your voice is beautiful and lovely, just like the rest of you.” Biting the inside of her mouth, she then looked up at him with teary eyes; he was about to question as to why she was tearing up when she wrapped her arms tight around his neck as she peppered kisses on his bearded cheek, “Thank you, daddy. Needed that reminder.”

“Papa?” Y/N groggily called out as she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and looked to the side of the bed; she frowned when she noticed that the gold medalist wasn’t occupying the earlier spot he claimed. Grabbing for the first stuffed toy he had given her in her arms, she made her way off their bed and checked their walk-in-closet and ensuite bathroom — and was displeased when he wasn’t there. There were two other bedrooms and a bathroom on the upper floor and all three areas did not house her loving boyfriend.  “Where are you?” She was now close to crying as she headed down the stairs. Upon hearing noise coming from their dining room, she then skipped over there and was shocked to see him wearing his USA jacket and was faced in front of a laptop. “Well I have to say that my biggest motivation has to be my loving girlfriend,” Just as he said the last word he shot Y/N a sincere smile, patting her lap — motioning for her to sit on it.  Thankful that she wasn’t wearing her little pajamas and instead fell asleep wearing one of his sweatshirts, she shyly sat on his lap and was surprised to see that the accomplished gymnast was being interviewed, “And she just pushes me to be the best I can be, in all aspects.” At the compliment, she shyly waved at the interviewer. “Well that is all the time we have. Thank you so much Lance Tucker for gracing us with your presence and introducing us to your lovely girl too.” Lance’s computer screen faded into his screensaver of the two of them — the gymnast kissing her cheek as she smiled wide into the camera. “Woke up without you and was so scared, papa.” Her confession had his heart hurting a bit but he cuddled her and explained, “I’m sorry, angel. I had an interview and you looked so adorable while you sleep that I didn’t want to wake you.” At his explanation, her little mind was able to understand it and nodded, “Promise to never leave me?” His reply was instant, “My greatest nightmare would be leaving you. I love you so much, angel,” For the only thing he has ever been sure of in his entire life was that she was going to be with her for the rest of their days together.

As much as Ransom and Y/N enjoyed summer, the bright sunny days allowed them to stroll around the different sights and go on long road trips across the state — even the country if the only Thrombey child wasn’t feeling lazy. “Princess, have you packed your clothes already?” He asked from the main floor of his house as he zipped up his duffle bag after checking once again that he had packed the necessary garments for their three-day stay in the high-end resort Ransom got them a booking to.  “King, can you come here please?” The man that was called for had to chuckle as he made his way up the stairs, heading for their bedroom because he could practically sense that she was pouting as she called for him. “Princess, everything alright with you?” Seeing her kneeling down in front of her suitcase with a wide array of clothing articles spread all around her. Shaking her head, she crossed her arms as her lips formed a pout, “Need king to help me pack.” Wrapping his arms around her  and placing her on his lap, he kissed the side of her neck, “My little princess needs help packing her clothes?” Snuggling against his chest, she nodded as she slipped her thumb into her mouth, “King packs my clothes better.” Having her in his lap as he was folding some of her clothes then placing it on her matching suitcases didn’t pose as a challenge for him; in fact he loved the thought of her being all small that she needed him. “Such a helpless, needy little thing you are hm?” Even though he was partially joking, she took it seriously but was not offended by it, “Just want my king near me at all times, please.” After zipping up her bags once they have been filled with all the clothes she was probably going to use during their stay there, he simply kissed her cheek and gently pat her thighs, “Well king’s not going anywhere without his pretty princess. Now let’s go on our vacation, okay?”

“Where are you, bubba?” Y/N pouted as she rubbed her hands on her arms as she stood by the balcony in their apartment. Her phone was in one of the pockets of the bathrobe she was wearing, and when she grabbed for it, she searched on Twitter for Superman. A sad smile graced her lips when she read about him being currently in a different country, aiding citizens who were currently suffering a forest fire in their location. Locking her phone, she then moved towards the door and before fully going in and locking the door behind her she looked up in the sky with hopeful eyes, “Please come home soon, bubba.”

Removing the robe from her body, she rested it by her dresser then crawled under the covers as she hugged the pillow Clark often laid down on when they slept together. A gush of strong wind blew past her and before she could even process what it was or see it properly, she was faced with a freshly showered Clark who was smiling and laying down beside her, “Hi, bubba. I’m home.” Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide as she kissed his lips repeatedly and excitedly. “I’m so happy you’re home, bubba! I missed you so damn much.” She moaned out in pleasure when his arms opened wide and cuddled her close and warm into his chest. Pressing a kiss on the top of her head, he then rubbed her back soothingly, “I know, bubba. I heard you.” hearing those words, she hid her face deeper into his chest, not having the guts to look up at him. With a cheeky grin, he reassured her, “ And don’t worry, I’ll be all yours this weekend. There’s no way I will be neglecting my precious bubba.”

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Content note for discussions of eternal damnation, and all sorts of other shit that will trigger a lot of folks with religious trauma.

Before I get started I might as well explain where I’m coming from - unlike a lot of She-Ra fans, and a lot of queer people, I don’t have much religious trauma, or any, maybe (okay there were a number of years I was convinced I was going to hell, but that happens to everyone, right?). I was raised a liberal Christian by liberal Christian parents in the Episcopal Church, where most of my memories are overwhelmingly positive. Fuck, growing up in the 90’s, Chuch was probably the only place outside my home I didn’t have homophobia spewed at me. Because it was the 90’s and it was a fucking hellscape of bigotry where 5 year olds knew enough to taunt each other with homophobic slurs and the adults didn’t know enough to realize how fucked up that was. Anyway. This is my experience, but it is an atypical one, and I know it. Quite frankly I know that my experience of Christianity has very little at all to do with what most people experienced, or what people generally mean when they talk about Christianity as a cultural force in America today. So if you were raised Christian and you don’t recognize your theology here, congrats, neither do I, but these ideas and cultural forces are huge and powerful and dominant. And it’s this dominant Christian narrative that I’m referring to in this post. As well as, you know, a children’s cartoon about lesbian rainbow princesses. So here it goes. This is going to get batshit.

"All events whatsoever are governed by the secret counsel of God." - John Calvin

“We’re all just a bunch of wooly guys” - Noelle Stevenson

This is a post triggered by a single scene, and a single line. It’s one of the most fucked-up scenes in She-Ra, toward the end of Save the Cat. Catra, turned into a puppet by Prime, struggles with her chip, desperately trying to gain control of herself, so lost and scared and vulnerable that she flings aside her own death wish and her pride and tearfully begs Adora to rescue her. Adora reaches out , about to grab her, and then Prime takes control back, pronounces ‘disappointing’ and activates the kill switch that pitches Catra off the platform and to her death (and seriously, she dies here, guys - also Adora breaks both her legs in the fall). But before he does, he dismisses Catra with one of his most chilling lines. “Some creatures are meant only for destruction.”

And that’s when everyone watching probably had their heart broken a little bit, but some of the viewers raised in or around Christianity watching the same scene probably whispered ‘holy shit’ to themselves. Because Prime’s line - which works as a chilling and callous dismissal of Catra - is also an allusion to a passage from the Bible. In fact, it’s from one of the most fucked up passages in a book with more than its share of fucked up passages. It’s from Romans 9:22, and I’m going to quote several previous verses to give the context of the passage (if not the entire Epistle, which is more about who needs to abide by Jewish dietary restrictions but was used to construct a systematic theology in the centuries afterwards because people decided it was Eternal Truth).

19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?

20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?

22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

The context of the allusion supports the context in the show. Prime is dismissing Catra - serial betrayer, liar, failed conqueror, former bloody-handed warlord - as worthless, as having always been worthless and fit only to be destroyed. He is speaking from a divine and authoritative perspective (because he really does think he’s God, more of this in my TL/DR Horde Prime thing). Prime is echoing not only his own haughty dismissal of Catra, and Shadow Weaver’s view of her, but also perhaps the viewer’s harshest assessment of her, and her own worst fears about herself. Catra was bad from the start, doomed to destroy and to be destroyed. A malformed pot, cracked in firing, destined to be shattered against a wall and have her shards classified by some future archaeologist 2,000 years later. And all that’s bad enough.

But the full historical and theological context of this passage shows the real depth of Noelle Stevenson’s passion and thought and care when writing this show. Noelle was raised in Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christianity. To my knowledge, he has never specified what sect or denomination, but in interviews and her memoir Noelle has shown a particular concern for questions that this passage raises, and a particular loathing for the strains of Protestant theology that take this passage and run with it - that is to say, Calvinism. So while I’m not sure if Noelle was raised as a conservative, Calvinist Presbyterian, his preoccupation with these questions mean that it’s time to talk about Calvinism.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to say that Calvinism is a systematic theology built entirely upon the Epistles of Romans and Galatians, but only -just- (and here my Catholic readers in particular will chuckle to themselves and lovingly stroke their favorite passage of the Epistle of James). The core of Calvinist Doctrine is often expressed by the very Dutch acronym TULIP:

Total Depravity - people are wholly evil, and incapable of good action or even willing good thoughts or deeds

Unconditional Election - God chooses some people to save because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, not because they did anything to deserve, trigger or accept it

Limited Atonement - Jesus died only to save the people God chose to save, not the rest of us bastards

Irresistible Grace - God chooses some people to be saved - if you didn’t want to be saved, too bad, God said so.

Perseverance of the Saints - People often forget this one and assume it’s ‘predestination’ but it’s actually this - basically, once saved by God, always saved, and if it looks like someone falls out of grace, they were never saved to begin with. Well that’s all sealed up tight I guess.

Reading through these, predestination isn’t a single doctrine in Calvinism but the entire theological underpinnings of it together with humanity’s utter powerlessness before sin. Basically God has all agency, humanity has none. Calvinism (and a lot of early modern Protestantism) is obsessed with questions of how God saves people (grace alone, AKA Sola Fides) and who God saves (the people god elects and only the people God elects, and fuck everyone else).

It’s apparent that Noelle was really taken by these questions, and repelled by the answers he heard. He’s alluded to having a tattoo refuting the Gospel passage about Sheep and Goats being sorted at the end times, affirming instead that ‘we’re all just a bunch of wooly guys’ (you can see this goat tattoo in some of his self-portraits in comics, etc). He’s also mentioned that rejecting and subverting destiny is a huge part of everything he writes as a particular rejection of the idea that some individual people are 'chosen' by God or that God has a plan for any of us. You can see that -so clearly- in Adora’s arc, where Adora embraces and then rejects destiny time and again and finally learns to live life for herself.

But for Catra, we’re much more concerned about the most negative aspect of this - the idea that some people are vessels meant for destruction. And that’s something else that Noelle is preoccupied with. In her memoir in the section about leaving the church and becoming a humanistic atheist, there is a drawing of a pot and the question ‘Am I a vessel prepared for destruction?’ Obviously this was on Noelle’s mind (And this is before he came out to himself as queer!).

To look at how this question plays out in Catra’s entire arc, let’s first talk about how ideas of damnation and salvation actually play out in society. And for that I’m going to plug one of my favorite books, Gin Lun’s Damned Nation: Hell in America from the Revolution to Reconstruction (if you can tell by now, I am a fucking blast at parties). Lun tells the long and very interesting story about, how ideas of hell and who went there changed during the Early American Republic. One of the interesting developments that she talks about is how while at first people who were repelled by Calvinism started moving toward a doctrine of universal salvation (no on goes to hell, at least not forever*), eventually they decided that hell was fine as long as only the right kind of people went there. Mostly The Other - non-Christian foreigners, Catholics, Atheists, people who were sinners in ways that were not just bad but weird and violated Victorian ideas of respectability. Really, Hell became a way of othering people, and arguably that’s how it survives today, especially as a way to other queer people (but expanding this is slated for my Montero rant). Now while a lot of people were consciously rejecting Calvinist predestination, they were still drawing the distinction between the Elect (good, saved, worthwhile) and the everyone else (bad, damned, worthless). I would argue that secularized ideas of this survive to this day even among non-Christian spaces in our society - we like to draw lines between those who Elect, and those who aren’t.

And that’s what brings us back to Catra. Because Catra’s entire arc is a refutation of the idea that some people are worthless and irredeemable, either by nature, nurture or their own actions. Catra’s actions strain the conventions of who is sympathetic in a Kid’s cartoon - I’ve half joked that she’s Walter White as a cat girl, and it’s only half a joke. She’s cruel, self-deluded, she spends 4 seasons refusing to take responsibility for anything she does and until Season 5 she just about always chooses the thing that does the most damage to herself and others. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, the show goes out of its way to demonstrate that Catra is morally culpable in every step of her descent into evil (except maybe her break with reality just before she pulls the lever). The way that Catra personally betrays everyone around her, the way she strips herself of all of her better qualities and most of what makes her human, hell even her costume changes would signal in any other show that she’s irredeemable.

It’s tempting to see this as Noelle’s version of being edgy - pushing the boundaries of what a sympathetic character is, throwing out antiheroics in favor of just making the villain a protagonist. Noelle isn’t quite Alex ‘I am in the business of traumatizing children’ Hirsch, who seems to have viewed his job as pushing the bounds of what you could show on the Disney Channel (I saw Gravity Falls as an adult and a bunch of that shit lives rent free in my nightmares forever), but Noelle has his own dark side, mostly thematically. The show’s willingness to deal with abuse, and messed up religious themes, and volatile, passionate, not particularly healthy relationships feels pretty daring. I’m not joking when I gleefully recommend this show to friends as ‘a couple from a Mountain Goats Song fights for four seasons in a cartoon intended for 9 year olds’. Noelle is in his own way pushing the boundaries of what a kids show can do. If you read Noelle’s other works like Nimona, you see an argument for Noelle being at least a bit edgy. Nimona is also angry, gleefully destructive, violent and spiteful - not unlike Catra. Given that it was a 2010s webcomic and not a kids show, Nimona is a good deal worse than Catra in some ways - Catra doesn’t kill people on screen, while Nimona laughs about it (that was just like, a webcomic thing - one of the fan favorite characters in my personal favorite, Narbonic, was a fucking sociopath, and the heroes were all amoral mad scientists, except for the superintelligent gerbil**). But unlike Nimona, whose fate is left open ended, Catra is redeemed.

And that is weird. We’ve had redemption arcs, but generally not of characters with -so- much vile stuff in their history. Going back to the comparison between her and Azula, many other shows, like Avatar, would have made Catra a semi-sympathetic villain who has a sob-story in their origin but who is beyond redemption, and in so doing would articulate a kind of psychologized Calvinism where some people are too traumatized to ever be fully and truly human. I’d argue this is the problem with Azula as a character - she’s a fun villain, but she doesn’t have moral agency, and the ultimate message of her arc - that she’s a broken person destined only to hurt people - is actually pretty fucked up. And that’s the origin story of so many serial killers and psycopaths that populate so many TV shows and movies. Beyond ‘hurt people hurt people’ they have nothing to teach us except perhaps that trauma makes you a monster and that the only possible response to people doing bad things is to cut them out of your life and out of our society (and that’s why we have prisons, right?)

And so Catra’s redemption and the depths from which she claws herself back goes back to Noelle’s desire to prove that no person is a vessel ‘fitted for destruction.’ Catra goes about as far down the path of evil as we’ve ever seen a protagonist in a kids show go, and she still has the capacity for good. Importantly, she is not subject to total depravity - she is capable of a good act, if only one at first. Catra is the one who begins her own redemption (unlike in Calvinism, where grace is unearned and even unwelcomed) - because she wants something better than what she has, even if its too late, because she realizes that she never wanted any of this anyway, because she wants to do one good thing once in her life even if it kills her.

The very extremity of Catra’s descent into villainy serves to underline the point that Noelle is trying to make - that no one can be written off completely, that everyone is capable of change, and that no human being is garbage, no matter how twisted they’ve become. Meanwhile her ability to set her own redemption in motion is a powerful statement of human agency, and healing, and a refutation of Calvinism’s idea that we are powerless before sin or pop cultural tropes about us being powerful before the traumas of our upbringing. Catra’s arc, then, is a kind of anti-Calvinist theological statement - about the nature of people and the nature of goodness.

Now, there is a darker side to this that Noelle has only hinted at, but which is suggested by other characters on the show. Because while Catra’s redemption shows that people are capable of change, even when they’ve done horrible things, been fucked up and fucked themselves up, it also illustrates the things people do to themselves that make change hard. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, two of the most sinister parts of her descent into villainy are her self-dehumanization (crushing her own compassion and desire to do good) and her rewriting of her own history in her speech and memory to make her own actions seem justified (which we see with her insistence that Adora left her, eliding Adora’s offers to have Catra join her, or her even more clearly false insistence that Entrapta had betrayed them). In Catra, these processes keep her going down the path of evil, and allow her to nearly destroy herself and everyone else. But we can see the same processes at work in two much darker figures - Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. These are both rants for another day, but the completeness of Shadow Weaver’s narcissistic self-justification and cultivated callousness and the even more complete narcissism of Prime’s god complex cut both characters off from everyone around them. Perhaps, in a theoretical sense, they are still redeemable, but for narrative purposes they might as well be damned.

This willingness to show a case where someone -isn’t- redeemed actually serves to make Catra’s redemption more believable, especially since Noelle and the writers draw the distinction between how Catra and SW/Prime can relate to reality and other people, not how broken they are by their trauma (unlike Zuko and Azula, who are differentiated by How Fucked Uolp They Are). Redemption is there, it’s an option, we can always do what is right, but someone people will choose not to, in part because doing the right thing involves opening ourselves to the world and others, and thus being vulnerable. Noelle mentions this offhandedly in an interview after Season 1 with the She-Ra Progressive of Power podcast - “I sometimes think that shades of grey, sympathetic villains are part of the escapist fantasy of shows like this.” Because in the real world, some people are just bastards, a point that was particularly clear in 2017. Prime and Shadow Weaver admit this reality, while Catra makes a philosophical point that even the bastards can change their ways (at least in theory).

*An idea first proposed in the second century by Origen, who’s a trip and a fucking half by himself, and an idea that becomes the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, which protestants vehemently denied!

**Speaking of favorite Noelle tropes

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Pt. 23 | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: Spencer’s birthday plans get interrupted by a case. Frustrated by Reader’s busy schedule, Spencer finds a unique way to spend time with her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Mild exhibitionism, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Dom/sub, light choking, degradation/praise, sub space Word Count: 7.3k

MASTERLIST

—————————————————

Waiting for Spencer Reid was an interesting position to be in. It was also, unfortunately, very, very common. You would think the IQ points would translate to efficiency, but you’d be very wrong. The only thing that boy does fast is read, and even that didn’t follow through to text messages, considering he’d read none of the six I’d sent him in the past hour.

So, naturally, as one does in an emergency, I called him. Unsurprisingly, the phone barely rang a second time before he picked up. Talking was, as we were both aware, his forte. Without even waiting for my greeting, his groggy voice came through the receiver with a song-like sound.

“Hello, little girl.”

But it wasn’t his turn to sing, and he knew damn well why I was calling. I could hear the smirk on his face so well that I could also envision exactly what he looked like in that moment, with his fluffy hair sticking up from constantly running his hands through it and his eyes only half-open as he tried to finish reading whatever horrible thing that he had in front of him.

It wasn’t how anyone should be spending their birthday. Especially not him. There wasn’t really anything I could do about it, though that didn’t make it any easier to hear the exhaustion and sadness behind that scratchy voice.

“What’re you doing up late? It’s past your bedtime, you know,” he chastised before I even had a chance to speak. He wasn’t wrong — It was 3AM where I was. But where he was, it’d just hit midnight.

“I just wanted to wish a happy birthday to my favorite old man,” I purred back once I’d managed to calm my fast-beating heart. I wondered if I’d ever get used to the brief rush of adrenaline and relief when I heard his voice for the first time after some time away.

I hoped not.

Spencer didn’t seem impressed by my reasoning, though. “You’re sweet. Go to sleep.”

“You’re up, too,” I whined, still picturing the way he would undoubtedly pull the phone further away to lessen the noise. I almost asked if he was also picturing me but stopped when I realized that whatever he had in mind was probably a lot more exciting than reality. Then again, he often told me that moments like this were his favorite. When we’re both too tired to keep our eyes open but too happy to be with each other to let them close all the way.

“Barely,” he corrected.

“Besides, I had to stay up. It’s your birthday.”

I’d meant to lift his spirits, but the long pause after I finished made it evident that my efforts were for naught. He almost seemed even more upset than when he’d answered, and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t that hard, considering he was probably staring at images or words of dead people.

“Yeah, sure feels like it.”

His tone alone ensured me it was worse than my imagination.

“Put your work down and pay attention to me instead,” I suggested as softly as I could with the neediness bleeding through, “That’s the first part of your present.”

“You’re my present?” he asked through a gruff laugh that made my heart skip a beat, “I like that present.”

He was trying. I could feel it in his voice, and I wished more than anything that I could teleport to where he was and hold him until it was too difficult for his mouth to form a frown.

“You already have me. That’d be like regifting,” I pointed out with only a pinch of self-deprecation. It was still too much for Spencer, though, who swiftly shot back the ever cheesy, “Every day with you is a gift.”

“Gross, don’t get all sentimental with me,” I ordered playfully.

He returned the energy with all the sass I always knew he was capable of. Once his whining ceased, he mumbled, “Do you come with a gift receipt?”

“No returns or exchanges allowed, I’m afraid.”

Spencer just let out a strained sigh, and in my head, I imagined how it would feel to climb onto his lap as he leaned back in his chair. I could almost feel his arms wrapping around my waist and his lips peppering kisses wherever he could reach. I could feel his love for me flowing across the country, persisting past the cell tower obstacles to make its way back to me.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered, his first purely sincere statement of the night.

It was an unfortunate choice, too, because it also reminded me of the biggest bummer that I unfortunately had to share.

“Oh, I meant to tell you, it’s midterm season, so…”

He was, thankfully, not as bummed as I was expecting. He was almost certainly thrilled to have a chance to sleep spread out on his bed without having to satisfy the very needy girl beside him, but he still managed to come up with enough bratty energy to scoff, “Are you telling me that I don’t get my gift when I get home?”

“It’ll just be a few days. Promise,” I spoke through the biggest, cheesiest smile I’d had yet. “You’re very distracting, Dr. Reid.”

“When are your exams?” His enthusiasm gave away just how disappointed he was with the news, but any frustration was clearly aimed at my poor professors.

“My last one is on Wednesday.”

The gasp that left him was too funny not to laugh, followed by exasperated, blubbered nonsense that didn’t ever get much clearer. I barely managed to understand him when he cried, “Don’t they know Halloween should be a national holiday?!”

“You should call my professors and yell at them.”

He actually considered it for a moment, but then returned the same silly intonation, “Maybe I will.”  

“Do it. You’re probably more qualified than them to teach me, anyway.”

After a short silence that was filled with more sexual tension than I’d expected considering how the phone call started, I heard Spencer gruffly comment, “You’re a cocky little brat tonight.”

It was so familiar to me that I jumped on the opportunity, giggling through my sleep deprived delirium, “I’m in rare form for your birthday.”

The explanation earned me a chuckle, but not much else. At least, not that I could see. The static on the other end of the phone sounded a lot like the way it looked when Spencer leaned his face against his palm and tried to see something that wasn’t there.

But I was there. Sort of. We’d done a lot more with a lot less, after all. So, that’s what I offered him.

“You know… we could have a redo of the last time I called you late at night on a case.”

“That did not end well for me last time,” he droned. I tried not to laugh at the manufactured memory of Spencer holed up in a hotel bathroom because he just had to have me in whatever way he could.

“Only happy endings for your birthday. I promise.”

But then, as it always did, work got in the way. Filled with only the greatest sadness and regret, Spencer quietly but honestly replied, “As much as I would love to, I don’t think it’ll be possible on this case.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Unfortunately.”

I bit my lip because there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t help Spencer with his work any more than I could fix the distance. All I could offer him was a safe home to return to. He would always find that with me.

“Well, in that case, I will be equipped with cartoons and kisses upon your return,” I offered with grace.

But I wasn’t the only one in rare form. Without skipping a beat, Spencer corrected with a smug sadness, “You mean your return. Considering you’re abandoning me on my birthday.”  

“Oh my god, the drama!” I cried before remembering that it was, still, in fact, 3AM. The light grimace I gave after remembering would be the only apology my neighbors would get from me. I was too busy building a narrative happy enough to drown out the horrors in front of him. “You’d think I was the one who was away all the time.”

“I’m allowed to be selfish; it’s my birthday,” he sang, and I soaked in the sound, storing it away for any rainy days.

“Fine. What do you want, brat?” I asked in the worst attempt at an impression I’d ever given.

He was just waiting for the question. Drawing out the first couple of syllables, he laughed through the stupidest birthday wish of all time.

“I want… you to go to bed.”

“Ugh!” I yelled again, not even bothering to feel bad about it that time. My exasperation fell on deaf ears, both from a willful desire to ignore my suffering and a literal ringing from the constant yelling.

Still, that impossible man drummed up enough compassion to gloat with a simple, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, jerk,” I grumbled, only to be swiftly corrected with a playful, “Try that again.”

“I love you, too, old man.”

He was satisfied enough with that answer, despite the sarcasm dripping from it. He still knew that the words were true, and that was all that mattered. Any punishments that might be necessary for my broken promise to behave for his birthday could always be doled out later. When the distance between us was narrowed to inches and clothes could be removed like cheap wrapping paper.

“Thank you, little girl. Sweet dreams,” he whispered, reminding me once more of just how empty my bed felt without him. I stared at his pillow for just one second before I threw myself into it. He chuckled at the sound of rustling sheets over the receiver but said nothing else.  

“You get some sleep tonight, too, okay?” I asked, uncharacteristically and openly vulnerable in a way that used to scare me.

Spencer’s voice was filled with pride and love as he answered, “You can’t see it, but I am giving you a pinky promise.”

“Good.” Burying my face in his pillow again made it easier to remember that it wouldn’t be forever when I said, “Bye, Spencer.”

“Goodnight, little girl.”

—————————————————

Autumn on campus felt pretty similar to the rest of the year. I wished that it were different, a little more exciting, to reflect how I felt about the impending holiday. But no, it was just students stumbling into their usual classes and hectically scheduled midterms with hangovers and a total lack of holiday cheer.

It was, in a few words, a complete bummer. The only thing that kept me going through the last of my exams was the knowledge that I’d be seeing Spencer. Unfortunately, he was still doing that rather annoying thing where he refused to answer my text messages. It wasn’t until he ignored even my most ridiculous threats that I realized something was going on.

The ‘Read’ notification sat menacingly on my screen, and I was so fixated on it that I almost didn’t notice the familiar mop of brown curls visible in the front row of the auditorium. But once I saw it, the phone was forgotten faster than ever before. I ran down the steps at a ridiculously dangerous pace, dodging the others still grumbling from their previous exams.

I landed in front of him with only enough breath left to sneer, “You’re in my seat.”

“Surprise,” he said with my favorite smug, self-assured smile.

“Adorable. Now move,” I ordered with a wave of my hand. As much as I loved the guy, I wasn’t about to change my seating arrangement for him. It was beginning to make sense, though, why my friend told me that she wouldn’t be sitting with me today.

“Fine,” he sighed, taking his sweet time moving seats and watching me happily bounce on my feet in the meantime. I snuck behind him into the seat before he’d even fully stood up. That little amount of friction between our bodies seemed to be enough to cause the tension to mount. It’d only been seconds, but I was already seriously considering abandoning the class. To hell with the professor who’d already seen me.

But Spencer’s eyes locked on mine, and he leaned onto the armrest with that same silly smirk.  

“It’s a workday, Dr. Reid,” I whispered, forcing my arm next to his and watching the way his pupils grew as I came closer.

“I might have pulled a few strings,” he replied just as quietly, keeping the illusion of secrecy despite many prying eyes around us, “Might’ve told Hotch I was invited.”

“But you weren’t,” I snorted.

Spencer’s head hung in just a little bit of shame, but his wide smile never waned. It was still there, bright and pure in its simplicity as he softly admitted, “Yeah. I lied. But I’m here now.”

There were no complaints about that fact, either. His pinky reached out to mine, twining together in the dim light of the auditorium. Somehow, for a brief second, I forgot about everything else. The noisy chatter meant nothing to me, the two of us lost in some alternate pocket universe that felt safe and warm from the cold air outside.

But time resumed, and I watched as Spencer took his eyes off of me first, turning instead to the lecturer watching us with a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Good morning everyone! We have a special guest with us today.”

I wanted to pay attention to his little introduction, but I couldn’t. Every word that was said about him sounded so clinical. It felt so empty compared to the truth I knew about him. He was so much more than a collection of publications and PhDs.

He was… indescribable. Even as his mouth formed a flat line and his awkward handshake was granted to the crowds of disinterested students, all I saw was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even if it was only from the shadows of his greatness. Then again, I don’t think he’d ever let me feel that way.

Speaking of…

"Dr. Reid, the only thing I ask is for you to give these wonderful students a chance to show you what they know,” my professor started with a laugh before he so kindly continued, “So go easy on them." 

In any other situation, I might have let it slide. I would have accepted the fact that Spencer was far beyond my intellect and not stand up for myself. But this time, Spencer was on my turf.

"All due respect to Dr. Reid, I don't think he needs to go easy on us,” I called from the front row, only audible to the other dutiful students that cared enough to sit up front. I heard Spencer laugh beside me, shaking his head just a little bit at the challenge. He didn’t say anything though, and I returned my eyes to the professor who was already familiar with my antics as I boasted, "At least not on me." 

While Spencer caught on to the fairly obvious double entendre, shifting his crossed legs closer, the professor just wrote it off as my usual academic pride.

“I did try to warn you that that one might get competitive,” he commented. At this point, everyone had definitely figured out my relation to the man next to me. It was kind of hard to hide a bullet wound from your school. But again, I was so caught up in the man beside me that I didn’t even feel a little shame at their playful teasing.

Spencer’s commentary was the only thing that mattered, and he gave it with a dreamy sigh. "I'm not offended at all. I'm sure she's very clever." 

The little bit of light left in the room started to fade, and once I was shrouded by the shadows, I felt confident enough in my plan to dig through the bag at my feet to pull out probably the nerdiest item in it.

A fucking back-up clicker. Which, I promptly handed to the man beside me.

“You’re in seat B4,” I whispered gruffly, earning yet another snarky chuckle from my boyfriend.

“Is that a challenge?”

I didn’t answer. Not him, anyway. What I did answer was the question that had appeared on the screen.

“Ms. (Y/n)?” My professor called, recognizing my seat number without even looking up.

Luckily for me, today was nothing but a review day of the midterm I’d already taken. While I knew all of the questions and, what I’d hoped were the right answers, Spencer had to read the questions from scratch. Really, it didn’t give me an edge. It just put us on equal playing ground.

As I gave my answer, I watched in my peripherals as Spencer’s eyes narrowed and tongue peeked out from lips that I still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss today.

It was a bad thing to think about, because my brief reverie of the things that mouth was capable of reminded me of another one. I didn’t even notice another question had appeared on the screen, and when I heard the familiar buzz of an attempted answer, I shared my Professor’s temporary confusion.

“Ah, Dr. Reid,” he laughed, probably already regretting welcoming the bastard here, “Please explain the answer.”

But there was another thing working in my favor: My boyfriend’s giant fucking ego. Really, it should be impossible that someone who was normally super insecure could enjoy showing off as much as he did. My professor didn’t mind, because Spencer’s long-winded answer was a wonderful review of… basically the entire course, and I didn’t mind because it granted me the one thing I needed.

Time. Time to slowly remove my jacket and reveal the sweater underneath. Spencer’s eyes caught the motion, glancing over only a couple of times while he managed to give his answer. It wasn’t until I started to remove the sweater that he cut his answer short.

His throat clearing told me he wanted my attention, but I was still just too distracted for him. I fanned my chest that felt warm for reasons other than the temperature of the room, guaranteeing his eyes would stay there long enough for me to catch the next question before he had a chance.

Or so I thought. Because before the question appeared, I made the positively stupid mistake of meeting his gaze. As soon as I did, my mind was stuck there, drowning in molasses and honey and—

“Dr. Reid, please feel free to continue to do my job for me. Lord knows I would love a break,” the professor joked, and I almost felt guilty for just how genuine he sounded. Not like Spencer would have noticed passive aggression if it existed.

Not like either of us would have cared. Per usual, we were so lost in the space of B4 and B5 that we didn’t care about the rest of the alphabet. All we cared about was winning. It was growing more and more obvious to me, though, that I would have to become a little more ruthless if I wanted to bring down the bona fide genius.  

The sound of his voice rang through the auditorium loud, clear, and confident. He didn’t need to worry if he was right or not, because he knew he was. The smugness was grating to my ears. I knew I couldn’t trick him into making a mistake, but there was one thing I could do.

I’d learned one thing very well in my time with Spencer, and that was how to manipulate that pretty little voice of his.

For example, if I wanted to hear it catch in his throat and come out a few pitches higher, all I would have to do is touch him. The riskier the touch, the higher his voice would go. Which was why I spread out the jacket over my lap, making sure that our legs were close enough that it covered him, too. Then I waited, calmly and kindly listening to him drone along until there was a natural enough inflection to hide evidence of any nefarious actions. Just as his voice started to rise, I slid my hand over his knee.

Spencer barely stuttered, just enough for me to know he was affected, but not enough for anyone else to notice. He took the loss with grace, quickly ending his answer with a summary that contained only half as many words as he would have normally provided.

He kept a few for me.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, shifting close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my ear.

“All’s fair in love and war,” I hummed. His breath caught again when I began stroking my thumb over his leg that had just started to bounce.

“This is wildly inappropriate.”

“How perceptive,” I returned with my own little smirk. The interaction caught us both, trapping us in the alternate dimension that existed when we held each other. His hand found its way to mine, and his thumb brushed over the back and sent goosebumps shooting over my skin.

I’d practically abandoned our pursuits altogether when I heard my friend’s voice as she took the question that we’d both missed. I should’ve been upset for losing after all that I’d gone through for my strategy to succeed, but it was hard to feel anything other than butterflies when Spencer was still looking at me like that.  

Even when I looked away, he stayed, patiently waiting for me to take the final question in the review. I granted him a chance to take it, but he just shook his head, implicitly asking me to take the win for the both of us. Even when we were competing, we were always on the same team.

There were no more distractions as I explained the answer as simply as I could. I was positive the rest of the class was tired of hearing our voices, but Spencer never stopped smiling. I could feel the pride rolling off of him, his hand growing tighter around mine as he took in a deep breath.

“Very good, (y/n),” my professor announced, signaling the end and initiating a large sigh of relief from everyone else.

Spencer sighed too, although his was with a different kind of relief; a dreamy, soft sound as he muttered under his breath, “Just like I said. Very clever.”

The air felt positively electric, and I never hated my class more than I did in that moment. The rest of the period ticked by so slowly that I almost swore the clocks were broken. Once we were allowed to leave, Spencer insisted on sticking around to thank the professor for his hospitality.

I knew it was necessary, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. I tried to be as patient as possible, even though it seemed pointless. Spencer’s little grin told me he knew very well what he was doing. The conversation had dragged on for practically five minutes of agony while I idled by the door.

But then my professor passed, and I felt the adrenaline course through my veins in seconds. As anticipated, we didn’t even make it out of the building before the tension broke. We’d barely even made it down the goddamn hallway before I shoved his scrawny ass into the first empty classroom I found. Once the door clicked shut behind us, the roles were quickly reversed.

I hadn’t seen him that excited in so long that I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to get swept up in his undertow. I couldn’t keep track of his hands or his mouth as they marked any bare skin they could find. But no matter how frantic and uncoordinated the movements were, they never ceased to send chills down my spine.

“This is wildly inappropriate, Dr. Reid,” I managed to slur between sloppy, heated kisses. It was barely comprehensible through the pent-up lust that had driven us there in the first place, but it still felt worth saying.

Spencer, however, made his feelings very clear with a gruff, forceful, “I don’t care.”

His hands were already roaming over my hips, pulling me so close to the edge that I nearly fell off the counter entirely. While I was laughing at his haste, he was busy leaving angry marks on my collarbone, pulling the top of my shirt down to grant him more access. And despite how badly my body burned with desire and need, I drummed up just enough self-preservation to force out a few, regrettable words.

“Take me home.”

Even though I tried to make it sound more seductive than a normal request to stop, it brought the momentum to a halt. Spencer immediately stopped his kisses, but let his hands continue to stroke loving patterns over the sides of my thighs.

“Don’t you have other classes?” he asked. The feeling of his breath against my ears making me second-guess my already voiced decision. But as enticing as the idea was of having him now, having already waited over a week, I knew we could have so much more fun with a little bit of privacy.

“Don’t you have work?” I teased, hoping that it would spur him to take the action we both knew was safer. At the same time, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to poke fun at the academic in him.

“Unless this is your way of telling me you've always wanted to fuck a girl in a lab because, I must admit I'd be more than happy to oblige." 

Spencer’s whole body tensed as he imagined just what it would feel like to take me in such a public place. After a couple seconds that I can only imagine were filled with fantasies and a reasonable fear, he pulled me from my seat on the counter and placed me back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling me by my wrist towards the door.

I only barely managed to stop him with both hands on his arm. He turned back to look at me like I’d done some horrible thing, but I was too busy trying to stop the laughter that was spilling from my chest.

“You’re uh—” I cleared my throat, pointing to the very noticeable tent in his slacks before I keened through the giggles, “You’re gonna have to do something about that.”

With a quick glance down, Spencer remembered the very unfortunately obvious trait of the male anatomy. “Fuck,” he stated plainly.

I couldn’t resist.

“I mean, I’m down,” I joked one final time.  

“Shut up!” Spencer laughed, too, trying and failing to adjust himself in his pants while I just enjoyed the show.

After all, we both knew that once we were alone, he would get a reprieve from my ridicule. He would get whatever he wanted.

—————————————————

The chaotic clashing of hands and mouths continued seconds after we’d reached our destination. The empty apartment had all of the sounds of our desperation echoing back to us, and after soaking in the melodious noise for a few seconds, I snapped back to reality.

“Okay, she doesn’t get home for another 30 minutes at the earliest so, we’d better hurry,” I urged, trying to shove Spencer off of me to convince him to move. It barely worked, with his arms clutching tighter the harder I struggled to get away.

Wrapped together just like that, the two of us barely made it a few feet before we almost tumbled to the ground. That was just enough of a reminder of our lack of coordination for Spencer to finally, begrudgingly, release me. Kind of. His hand still held tight to mine, and our laughter still combined the whole way to our bed.

From there, Spencer felt confident in our privacy to answer, “That’s fine. I usually tear open my gifts pretty quickly.”

It was a very good metaphor for the way his hands worked over my clothes. I didn’t even try to pinpoint the moment where being naked no longer made me feel nervous. I let the scar tissue show because neither of us were going to look at it, anyway. We were too caught up in the slight shifts and nuances of our faces as we rushed towards our one mutual goal.

“I missed you,” I mumbled, the words feeling as natural as breathing itself.

“I missed you, too,” he returned, and I felt the raw emotion, the sincerity and desire in every syllable. But once it was over and he had finally managed to remove everything but my underwear, all that was left was an all-encompassing, mind-altering level of lust.

“God, watching you in class was so fucking frustrating,” he strained, his upper lip curling with disdain as he watched my body squirm against the sheets.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted you so badly.”

There was no denying that it was the honest truth, and I didn’t even want to try. I wanted to gloat and bask in the confirmation that his presence was dangerous for my academic career. Not to mention my sanity.  

“Like I said. You’re very distracting.”

Then, to prove my point, that brilliant bastard shoved his hand under the band of my underwear. He only held me softly for one second before he slid his fingers through the slickness and thrust them roughly into me. It hadn’t been that long, but the emptiness I felt before was even more apparent now that I had any part of him inside of me again.

“Am I?” he chimed with a smile.

I wanted to be bratty, to fight the tension that was building and appear unfazed by his ministrations, but there was simply no pretending. Not when my body was already on the verge of spasming around his fingers that seemed to stroke the perfect place within me with every movement.

“Jesus Christ,” I sighed. I should’ve known better than to give him ammunition.

“You’ve resorted to blasphemy already?”

Spencer partnered the tease with a ruthless thrust, burying his fingers to the knuckle inside of me and holding them there. He waited until I ran out of breath and struggled to take another while also trying not to scream in a mixture of frustration and devastating need for more.

“I thought I told you we had to hurry?”

“We’ve got time,” he shot back without pause, “You’re just being a needy little brat.”

“Yes, I am,” I whined just as quickly, “I’m a fucking brat and I need you.”

He almost seemed disappointed in my compliance. His fingers began moving again, eliciting noises that were louder, higher, and sweeter after the anticipation. He tried to draw the attitude out of me by stopping again, waiting for a quip that didn’t come.

“Awww, no fight?” he cooed.

“I can’t. It’s your birthday,” I grumbled before biting my tongue. The pressure was becoming so unbearable I thought I might honestly draw blood. But after another few seconds of torture that felt like a lifetime, Spencer withdrew his hand completely.

He was testing the limits, watching how far I would let him go before begging. But even when he took the same soaked fingers and began rubbing me from the outside of my underwear, I only opened my mouth to steal quick, soft breaths and give pitiful whines.

“Oh, I like this…” he laughed, apparently having gotten past his concern about my sudden compliance, “I could get used to you behaving.”

The song-like cadence got to me, threatening to spark and ignite everything I was holding back. I almost bit back. I almost let the desire scorch my throat with a few choice words for the very rude genius, but I didn’t. The only thing that stopped me was the feel of cotton sliding down my thighs as he removed the final barrier between us.

“You’d miss my misbehaving,” I said with a chuckle. The sound mixed with another, a deep moan that filled my chest when I felt him press himself against my entrance. My back arched, causing him to slip inside of me just enough for us to both lose our words.

“I don’t know…”

If I’d wanted to say anything, my mouth wouldn’t have let me. It was too busy singing his praise while simultaneously begging him to silence it. My lips floundered for a kiss that he hung just far enough away from me to deny. Satisfaction was painted over every feature as he started to enter me, brushing his lips against my mouth every few seconds just to pull away before I was granted the intimacy I sought.

“You do look rather cute when you’re begging.”

It was strange, the way my body started to predict his movements. I met him in the middle of every motion, and I swore even our breath became synchronized in its rapid firing. It wasn’t until his hand rested over my throat we broke the rhythm. I wasn’t going to complain, letting the energy flow down my spine that arched towards him on instinct. His hips never stopped, and I could tell by the way his breath hitched and his fingers grew tighter around my neck that the new angle was as wonderful for him as it was for me.

“You look so sweet when you let go of every ounce of self-preservation and dignity you have and put your life in my hands,” he whispered with an affection that almost seemed odd considering the context. But then there was something else in his moans, a genuine gentleness that made my already arrhythmic heart beat faster.

“You know I’ll take care of you, don’t you?” he asked as his movements stayed calm and careful. Loving and safe.  

I didn’t even notice my eyes had closed, but it ultimately didn’t matter. Because when I opened them, I saw the same man that existed in every image behind my eyelids. The only indication he got that I was still capable of communication was the gentle curve of my lips that dropped open in a pleased sigh as his hips continued a slow, tender pace.

It still felt like too much, but not in a bad way. It was too much in the sense that I was reminded once again just how ruined he’d made me. And the smug little shit knew it, too.

“You don’t have a single thought in that pretty little head, do you?” he cooed, dragging his hand up the column of my throat to force his fingers against my tongue. True to my word, I didn’t try to fight back. I soaked the digits that still tasted like me with my jaw left open. His pupils dilated as he watched the spit pool in my mouth that awaited his instruction.

“You just want to be used. Like the perfect little doll you are.”

Unlike my own, his smile was more of a smirk. A crooked, ever so slightly wicked quirk that made my muscles tense around him in their own version of an affirmative answer. He took it, happily. His body crashed into mine, but it merely felt like an extension of myself returning home like the waves meeting the shore. I could feel him claiming his rightful place at the deepest parts of me, making his home with every powerful motion of his hips.

I could hardly breathe, let alone think. I didn’t want to. It felt unnecessary.

“My sweet little girl,” he muttered with an unbelievably chaste kiss in the center of my forehead, “You’d do anything to make your daddy happy.”

I felt detached from myself in a way that didn’t feel me with fear or pain. I could feel myself through his hands, strong and working the pliable flesh of my thighs as he held them up so that he could drive into me harder.

His eyes, also only half open, burned with intensity. I could feel the determination, the undying desire to grant me a serenity that no one else could. His need for me to feel safe and loved with the seemingly contradictory brutality.

But it wasn’t contradictory. The power behind every movement, the insistence on being as close to me as he possibly could, might have caused some physical pain, but it was nothing compared to the pleasure of sharing this space with him. Of sharing my body with him just to see what he would do with it. I already knew, but I wanted to feel it again and again. Because with each stroke of his hand and thrust of his hips, I felt it.

Spencer had free rein to do whatever he wanted, and he chose to love me.

“I’m so close. You know what I want,” he pleaded despite holding all of the power. He handed it to me with a low groan, trying to kiss my lips while he commanded, “Do it. Come for me.”

My body obeyed his command, falling to pieces around him with shockwaves breaking over every inch of me. My vision went white, crafting a halo of light around him as he also found himself reaching a peak that seemed different than the times we’d shared before.

I tried to figure out what had changed, what about this time made it unique. But as the euphoria faded, all I saw staring back at me was the same face as always, radiating a joy and understanding that warmed damp, chilly skin. Spencer’s release provided a similar warmth within me, and my body clung to him even tighter despite the exhaustion.

My breathing took its time to even out, but I was in no rush to leave him. I would have stayed like that forever, with Spencer covering me like the silliest, boniest blanket. If it wasn’t for the dead weight he eventually dropped on me, we probably would’ve spent the whole day lost in the covers. But he could thank the scars for me being a little less forgiving.

Of course, thankful is not the word to describe him at all. Whiny was more like it. Even as I turned our bodies together so that I would still be sitting on his lap, he did nothing but groan and bitch about it. That is, until I silenced him with a kiss that barely brushed over his lips.

That was enough to turn his frown back to the dopey smile I loved so much.

“Happy birthday, old man,” I purred, enjoying the way his hands grabbed me tighter at the loving nickname. But age wasn’t what was on his mind. I could see it in the way his eyes tore past my defenses and he held me closer like we could actually become one if he tried hard enough.

“I’m so in love with you, it’s infuriating,” he whispered.

“I’ve heard that one before.”

Spencer wasn’t in a joking mood, though. All of his humor seemed to be expended earlier in the day, and now he was just left with all the mushy, romantic innards that I normally kept at bay.

It wasn’t that bad, though, I thought as his hands framed my face so our foreheads would touch. There were worse things to be trapped with.

“It’s true,” he mumbled with his voice still high and slurred together, “I look at you and there is just… nothing that can be said that would ever explain the way it feels.”

“Gross,” I joked.

“Get used to it,” he returned. And if that wasn’t enough to make me laugh, he stuck his tongue out in the most childish display I’d seen from him since he’d fucking licked my hand on our picnic. It was also just charming enough that I was willing to let the sappy stuff slide.

“I’ll be nice to you this time,” I grumbled. “But also, speaking of time, you’d better hurry up if you don’t want to do the walk of shame with an audience.”

Spencer’s arms fell limp with a dramatic cry before he used them to cover his face once more.

“Ugh. Go,” he ordered. Despite his words, he still made me fight against greedy hands to wrestle my way out of bed. It would have been smarter to let me go quickly. I really don’t know what he was thinking, but he would learn his mistake soon enough. Because as I was finishing up in the bathroom, I heard a very amused voice chiming down the hall on the other side of the door.

“Good afternoon, Spencer.”

I debated not opening the door and freeing Spencer from the unbelievably uncomfortable position he’d just found himself in, but ultimately decided it was too cruel. Still, the stalling had taken up enough time that the poor guy felt compelled to reply.

And, of course, the only thing he could think to say was a pathetic, high pitched, “Hi.”

Somehow managing to contain the absolutely riotous laughter I felt in my gut, I opened the door with the straightest face I could muster.

It wasn’t enough. Spencer saw the pleasure I took in his humiliation and practically shoved me out of the bathroom to take my place behind the doors. While I found the action endearing in the most awkward way, my roommate was mostly just confused about how the fuck I’d managed to find someone as stupid as me.

“I didn’t know he was coming,” she said once she managed to smile at the silly situation.  

Clearing my throat, I tried to sound sincere in my bullshit apology. “Me either, sorry.”

In a way, I think the fact I couldn’t pull myself together worked in my favor. Normally, she would have scolded me (albeit playfully) for not alerting her of what she might be walking in on, but this time, she just tried to withhold the smile that still stretched over her cheeks despite her best efforts.

“You’re fine,” she sighed, giving in to the desire to go against her usual grumpy demeanor before retreating to her own room. “Have fun, you hooligans.”

Once her door clicked shut, I heard shuffling on the other side of the door next to me. Spencer’s shadow was visible from the light peeking out underneath, and I waited a few more restless seconds before I announced, “You can come out now, Spencer.”

Cautiously, the door creaked open just enough for his head to poke out and confirm that I wasn’t trying to trick him.

“I’ve never been a hooligan before,” he said with a bounce in his step and his eyebrows halfway up his face. To think that he was the same man who threatened to arrest me for existing at a nightclub was, in a word, hilarious.

“Well, good news for you,” I purred, and the sound must have reminded him of my more devilish nature, because his jubilance quickly shifted back to an obvious anxiety. I wrapped my arms around him even when it meant that his muscles tensed, dragging him down so I could whisper in his ear, “I was just about to ask if you wanted to help me play hooky.”

“And do what?”

It felt strange to say that I hadn’t really thought about it. That the second I’d seen him I knew that the day would be good and free and fun. That everything felt so perfectly fine that I didn’t even want to challenge it with a schedule.

Spencer looked at me, his answer apparent in the way he started to relax the longer we stayed wrapped up in a shitty apartment hallway. It didn’t matter what I said. Spencer would have followed me, just like I would have done for him.

And without the angst or uncertainty of what could go wrong, there was only one thing left for us to do. With a shrug and pout, I proposed the riskiest plan we’d had yet.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

| Finale |

[fanmoose12]

modern AU levihan as kids: Kenny babysits Levi, and doesn't let him play with any kids after school bc he thinks all kids are brats, but he approves of Hange so he lets her come over to play with Levi. And Hange always brings dandelions that she picks from the ground for Kenny, Levi, and for Levi to give Kuchel whenever she comes home late from work

"I'm going out," Levi announced, coming downstairs already dressed and with his backpack on.

From his place on a sofa, Kenny put down his beer and raised an eyebrow.

"May I ask where are you going?"

"You may not," Levi retorted, his face dark. Kenny had to admit - for a little boy, his nephew had an impressively fierce glare. Even some adults found the kid to be unnerving. Not Kenny, though.

"Oi, brat, you better tell me where you're going. Or," he smirked. "I'm going to call your mother."

At that, Levi pouted and stomped his feet. He continued to glare at Kenny for a little longer, before surrendering with an irritated 'tsk'.

"I'm going out with Hange," he said with a sulky pout. Of course, it was Hange, Kenny had no doubt that Levi was meeting with the bespectacled kid from across the street. He asked him simply to see that awkward and constipated look on his nephew's face.

"Is your curiosity satisfied? May I go already?"

"You may not," seeing Levi's wide-eyed expression, Kenny felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Teasing the kid was so much fun. "Wait for a bit, until I get my shit. We'll go together."

"What? No!" Levi protested, clutching hands into fists. "I'm going with Hange! Not with you!"

"Your mother asked me to look after you," Kenny reminded, putting on his best ‘stern adult’ expression. "So I'm going to chaperone you and Hange. I'm sure she won't mind."

"I will mind," Levi grunted stubbornly.

Kenny rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Levi, stop with that tantrum. I'll drive you two to the park, get you some ice-cream, let you have some fun."

"While you keep watching us like a creep?"

"While I keep an eye on you two to make sure you won't get into trouble."

Crossing hands on his chest, Levi considered him. "You won't let me go without you, right?"

"Levi!" Kenny slapped him on a back with a loud chuckle. "And here I thought you aren't sharp!"

It earned him another glare from his dear nephew, but then Levi sighed, accepting his defeat.

"Hurry up, old man. Hange is probably waiting for me already."

"I'll be quick as lighting," Kenny winked and dashed to get his keys and wallet.

Once he was dressed and ready to go, Levi opened the front door. Hange was standing on their porch, her arm raised to the doorbell.

"Oh." She gingerly lowered her hand to the side. "Hi, Levi. I was just going to call you."

"Sorry, it took me so long. My uncle decided to go with us and I had to wait for him."

"Mr. Ackerman is going with us?" Hange's eyes widened. "Awesome!"

"See?" Kenny walked out, patting Hange's head with a smile. "I told you Hange wouldn't object."

"Of course, I wouldn't," she smiled. "You're so cool, Mr. Ackerman!"

"That I am," Kenny grinned, looking at Levi's disgruntled expression. "But please, Hange, we've talked about this. You can just call me uncle Kenny. Mr. Ackerman sounds like I'm an old man."

"You are an old man," Levi argued, scowling.

"No respect for his elders," Kenny shook his head, feigning disappointment. "C'mon, kids, let's get into the car."

Once Hange and Levi were seated at the back of his car and once Kenny made sure that they put on their seatbelts - Kuchel would have his head, if they didn't - there was only one thing left.

"So, Hange?" Kenny met her eyes in the rear mirror. "Where do you want to go?"

"Huh?" she bit her lip. "Why don't you ask Levi?"

"You know him,” Kenny said flippantly. “He'll go wherever you want. So. Have you decided?"

"Um," Hange glanced at Levi and leaned closer, whispering something in his ear. Levi gave her a small nod, and Hange smiled broadly, showing her still missing tooth. She turned to Kenny, giving him thumbs up. "We want to go to the park, uncle Kenny!"

"Your wish is my command," he winked, starting the car.

***

"Here you go," Kenny pushed two plates of ice-creams - mint chocolate chip for Hange and lemon for Levi - towards the kids.

Hange accepted hers with a loud and genuine 'thank you' while Levi just grunted something under his breath. Instantly, children dove into their desserts.

Sitting across from them, Kenny sipped on his coffee and watched them eat. It was quite fascinating - how different they were. Levi ate slowly and carefully, wiping his face with napkin whenever ice-cream got on his face. Meanwhile, Hange noshed enthusiastically and messily, her cheeks already stained. 

As soon as he saw the state she was in, Levi paused and put the spoon down. With a barely audible sigh, he took the napkin and gripped Hange's chin between his fingers, making her look at him. Then he proceeded to thoroughly wipe her dirty face, cleaning the remnants of the ice-cream from her cheeks and nose.

"You're such a clean freak," Hange muttered when Levi was finished.

"It's not my fault you're such a pig, four-eyes," he shot back, making Hange throw her head and laugh.

Kenny watched their interaction with amused expression, regretting that his sister wasn't too busy with work to witness this.

He had a feeling, however, that she saw a fair share of this back at home.

***

Kenny put the hat lower, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. It was quite boring, just sitting there, but at least Levi had calmed down a bit. After they arrived at the park, Hange had dragged him out somewhere, claiming that she wanted Levi to see a pretty butterfly she found when she had visited the park with her parents.

Kenny wanted to follow, but one glare from his nephew, and he surrendered, taking refuge at one of the benches.

He let them go, because as much as he enjoyed giving Levi shit, Kenny knew that he was smart. Careful too. He was confident that Levi wouldn't get in any trouble. Besides, the kid deserved to have some fun with his best friend. It was the reason he brought them there in the first place.

He wished the kids would come back sooner, though. The heat and bright sun were making him quite drowsy.

Kenny looked around the park, and when he noticed that there was no sign of his nephew or his friend, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting them rest for a short moment.

***

"Uncle Kenny! Uncle Kenny! Look what I've made!"

"Oi, old man, wake up," Kenny felt a sharp poke into his side and groaned, waving his hand to get rid of the source of pain.

"Wake up." Levi repeated, poking him again. "Hange wants to show you something." That was followed by another pock.

"Stop it," Kenny hissed. "I woke up, woke up! Just stop pocking me!"

He opened his eyes and was greeted with the too familiar scene - his nephew, glaring at him with all the fierceness a six-year old boy could master. Once he took a good look at him, however, Kenny had to rub his eyes, because he could not believe it.

His gloomy and grumpy nephew was standing in front of him, holding a long wooden branch in his right hand. And on his head, he wore a flower crown, made of weeds and poppies. Kenny clasped a palm over his mouth, stifling his laughter. He cursed himself for not taking his phone with him. He should have taken a picture, Kuchel had to see this.

"Uncle Kenny!" Hange's loud voice attracted his attention. Kenny turned away from Levi, facing the other kid. She was wearing the same flower crown as Levi. In her hands she held another one - this one made of dandelions. Smiling from ear to ear, she handed it to Kenny.

"I made it for you!" she exclaimed, and something deep inside Kenny's chest warmed at the sight of her. "Would you like to wear it?"

"You better wear it." Levi threatened quietly, giving him another pock. "Four-eyes put a lot of effort into making it."

Kenny smiled, endeared by Levi's protectiveness.

"Of course, I'll wear it," he said. How could he say no these bright eyes? He took off his hat and lowered his head, letting Hange put a flower crown on top of it.

"Ah!" she clasped her hands. "You look so handsome, uncle Kenny! Just so you know," she leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper. "This flower crown is special."

"Oi!" Levi interfered, glaring at Hange. Despite his angry face, Kenny couldn't help but notice that Levi didn't pock her with his stick. Someone was clearly showing his favoritism. "You said that mine was special!"

"And yours is special!"

"A-ha," Levi shook his head. "There can't be two specials."

"Of course, there can be!" Hange flailed her arms around. "It's just different kinds of special! Your flower crown is a special best friend's crown, and your uncle has the coolest adult's crown!"

"He's not cool," Levi muttered, but he seemed to accept the explanation all the same.

"What's the stick for, kid?" Kenny asked, pointing at it with his chin.

"Levi was a knight!" Hange answered for him. "He was fighting a fierce dragon and to win this battle, he needed a magical weapon! It was forged by the forest gods!"

"A fight with a dragon?" Kenny whistled. "Were you s princess then, Hange?"

"Nope," she replied with a wide grin.

"She was a dragon," Levi muttered.

"Oh." Kenny should have anticipated something like that. "Did it mean that you lost, Levi?"

Instead of answering, Levi kicked him in the shin.

"We took a recess," Hange said, pushing the glasses up her nose. "The dragon was getting kinda tired."

"Right," Kenny looked up at the sky, the sun was already setting. "Let's go home then. Your mother is probably back from work by now."

"I have flowers for Mrs. Ackerman too!" Hange opened her backpack, showing a small bouquet of field flowers to Kenny. "You'll give them to her, right, uncle Kenny?"

"Why don't you give them yourself, Hange?" he offered. "You can join us for a dinner, I'm sure Kuchel won't mind."

"My mom's making pasta this evening," Levi added, looking a bit shy. "And if you want, we can watch cartoons after that. Have a sleepover."

"I would love that, Levi!" Hange pulled him into a hug. Levi made a face, but- didn't protest.

"Thanks for joining us today, uncle Kenny!" Hange told him after she let go of Levi. "It was the best day ever!"

"You're always welcome, my dear," Kenny's lips curled into a rare, sincere smile.

"Let's get back to the car," he said, standing up.

"The first one to they car chooses the cartoon!" Hange shouted and sprinted off. Levi rushed after her, but Kenny couldn't help but notice - his nephew was purposefully running slower than usual.

Soon Hange reached the car and started jump around in victory, while Levi made a show of looking defeated. 

Kenny chuckled, watching them. It was good to know that his nephew had a friend like that, the one who made him so happy. It made Kenny happy too.

[sketching-shark]

I think we should start a protection squad (although they don’t need it because they can protect themselves) for Sun Wukong and Guanyin

“Begone monkie kid fandom trying to down grade these really interesting characters with interesting personality’s and backstory ( the both of them like seriously Guanyin backstory is so cool) to a villain wile trying to justify your angsty backstory (that are no where near as cool as monkey who fights gods and Person who has 1000 arms and heads to help people in need) for the actual villain”

So who wants to join

Me:*raises my hand*

Ps: sorry if I got Guanyin backstory wrong am not an expert on it.

Haha okay so some critiques on the jttw & associated media western fandom & fandom in general coming up, so please skip this upcoming text wall if you don't want to encounter my undoubtedly ~devastating~ words (i.e. don't like don't read as people love to say, & if I have to be inundated with images of my notp every time I go into the sun wukong tag then I imagine people can be chill with me expressing my opinions & giving people fair warning that I WILL be critiquing common fandom trends, but no need for you to see that if you don’t want to. Cool? Cool.)

-----

PFFFFFTTT oh man there are many times when I feel like signing up for such a protection squad...when it comes to the current western jttw & Sun Wukong fandom I do feel like I'm often swinging at a rapid pace between "well it's fandom & people are allowed to make the stories they want" & "I am once again begging my fellow monkie kid enthusiasts (& sometimes creators) to do more research into the og classic/show it more respect so you can avoid any potentially offensive/off-the-mark misunderstandings of the status & cultural context of the characters in their country of origin (I promise it's super interesting & I can provide you with links to free pdf copies of the entire Yu translation, i.e. the best one ever created, so feel free to ask!) & maybe also stop constantly stripping away all the nuance of Sun Wukong's character for the sake of either making him an entire asshole so your little meow meow can look completely innocent in comparison and/or making the monkey king's entire life & character revolve around said meow meow."

Like I get that fandom's supposed to be a kind of anything-goes environment, but one thing that honestly seems to be true of a lot of fandoms--and the western one for Sun Wukong & co. is certainly not immune from this--is that there often seems to be a kind of monoculturalization at work in what stories are created & what character interpretations are made popular. Across a multitude of fandoms, you frequently see basically nothing but the exact same tropes being made popular & even being insisted on for the canonical work (especially hasty redemption arcs & enemies to lovers these days), the exact same one-dimensional character types that characters from an original work keep getting shoved into, the exact same story beats, etc. And I get it to an extent, as fandom is generally a space where people just make art and fic for fun & without thinking too hard about it & without any pressure. 

This seems to, however, often unfortunately lead to the mentality that it’s your god-given right to do literally whatever you want with literally any cultural figure without even the slightest bit of thought put into their cultural, historical, and even religious context, even (and sometimes especially) when it comes to figures that are really important in a culture outside your own. For such figures--even if you first encounter them in a children’s cartoon--you should be a little more careful with what you do with them than you would with your usual Saturday morning line-up. It of course has to be acknowledged that there exists a whole pile of absolutely ridiculous & cursed pieces of media that are based on Journey to the West & that were produced in mainland China, but for your own education if nothing else I consider it good practice for those of us (myself certainly included) who aren’t part of the culture that produced JTTW to put more thought into how we might want to portray these characters so that at the very least (to pull some things I’ve seen from the jttw western fandom) we’re not turning a goddess of mercy into an evil figure for the sake of Angst(TM), or relegating other important literary figures into the positions of offensive stereotypes, or making broad claims about the source text & original characterizations of various figures that are blatantly untrue, or mocking heavenly deities because of what’s actually your misunderstanding of how immortality works according to Daoist beliefs. Yet while a lot of this is often due to people not even trying to understand the context these figures are coming from, I do want to acknowledge that the journey (lol reference) to understand even a fraction of the original cultural context can be a daunting one, especially since, as I’ve mentioned before, it can be really hard & even next to impossible to find good, accessible, & legitimate explanations in English of how, for example, the relationship between Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China & according to the Buddhist beliefs that define the original work. 

That is to say, I do think it’s an unfortunate, if unavoidable, part of any introduction of an original text into a culture foreign to its own for there to be sometimes a significant amount of misinterpretation, mistranslations, and false assumptions. There is, however, a big difference between learning from your honest mistakes, & doubling down on them while dismissing all criticism of your misinterpretation into that abstract category of “fandom drama.” The latter attitude is kind of shitty at best and horrifically entitled at worst. 

Plus, as I’ve discovered, there is a great deal of interest and joy to be drawn from keeping yourself open to learning aspects of these texts & figures that you weren’t aware of! I can say from my own experience that I’ve always really enjoyed & appreciated it when individuals on this site who come from a Chinese background--and who know much more about the cultural context of JTTW than me--have taken the time to explain its various aspects. It often leaves me feeling like woooooaaaahhhhhHHH!!!! as to how amazingly full of nuanced meaning JTTW is like dang no wonder it’s one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels. 

And I guess that right there is the heart of a lot of my own personal frustration and disappointment with the ways that fandoms often approach a literary work or other piece of media...like don’t get me wrong, a lot of the original works a fandom may grow around are just straight-up goofy & everyone’s aware of it & has fun with it, yet the trend of approaching what are often nuanced and multi-layered works in terms of how well they fit and/or can be shoved into pretty cliche ideas of Redemption Arc or Enemies to Lovers or Hero Actually Bad, Villain Actually Good etc...well, it just seems to cheapen and even erase even the possibility of understanding the wonderful complexity or even endearing simplicity that made these works so beloved in the first place. Again, I feel like I need to make it clear that I’m not saying fandom should be a space where people are constantly trying to one-up each other with their hot takes in literary analysis, but it would be nice and even beneficial to allow room for commentary that strives to approach these works in a multi-faceted way, analysis & interpretations that go against the popular fandom beliefs, & criticism of the work or even of fandom trends (yes it is in fact possible to legitimately love something but still be critical of its aspects) instead of immediately attacking people who try to engage in such as just being haters who don’t want anyone to have fun ever (X_X).   

----

Anyway, I know I didn’t cover even half of the stuff you brought up in the first place anon, but I don’t want any interested parties to this post to suffer too long through my text wall lol. I was asked to try my hand at illustrating Guanyin, but as with you I’m nowhere near as informed as I should be about her, so I want to do more research on her history and religious importance before I attempt a portrait. I’ll try my best, and do plan to pair that illustration with my own outsider’s attempt to summarize her character. From what little I do know I am in full agreement that her backstory is so incredibly amazing...just the fact that she literally eschewed the bliss of Nirvana to help all beings reach it, and even split herself into pieces in the attempt to do so (with Buddha granting her eleven heads and a thousand arms as a result)...man, I can see why she’s such a beloved & respected deity. 

----

 As for what western fandom commonly does with everyone’s favorite god-fighting primate...I can talk about this at length if there’s interest, but for this post I’ll just say that I guess one lesson from all of this is that for all the centuries that have passed since Journey to the West was first completed, literally no one drawing inspiration from the original tale in the west (lol) has come even slightly close to being able to equal or even capture half the extent of the nuance, complexity, religious, historical, and cultural aspects, and humor that define Wu Cheng'en's story of an overpowered monkey who defied even Buddha.

So thank the heavens we'll always have the original.

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 21: You, again- Max Phillips

Day 21: You, again - Max Phillips 

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader 

Warning: Cursing 18 + 

A/N: This story was requested by @phoenixhalliwell​ who is one of my favorite people I talk to on Tumblr. She writes some fantastic Triple Frontier stuff so check it out! Also, this is my first time writing for Max Phillips so I hope you enjoy! 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 20: Hello - Poe Dameron 

Monday 

“Ugh!” you shout kicking towards the copier. 

“You know if you break it you gotta buy it, sweetheart,” you jump half a foot in the air before turning around gasping at the smirking face of Max Phillips, your boss. 

“FUCK! You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t even hear you come up behind me!” 

“Oh, no are you ok pumpkin?” Oh how much you hated the pet names. 

You roll your eyes before turning back to the infuriating machine, “I’m fine,” you grind your teeth doing your best to ignore him. It was only too much of a wish for him to leave you alone. 

He leans against the copier and smirks at you, “So I was wondering about dinne-” 

“Listen here Mr. Phillips, I am not interested in anything you are offering. So if you could kindly fuck off that would be great, thank you.” 

He pouts, before crossing his arms over his chest, “you know I could fire you for talking to me like th-” 

You cut him off again grabbing your finished copies and facing him, “But you won’t because then you would lose your best salesman and the company would plummet.” You walk away tightly holding your papers to your chest and returning to your desk. Leaving a gaping Max Phillips behind. 

Tuesday

You bob your head along to the music playing from the small speaker at your desk. Fully concentrating on finishing the proposal for Friday when you feel the presence of someone standing behind you. 

You slowly turn in your chair and see Max Phillips creeping over your shoulder at your computer. 

“AHH!” you scream, “You fucking asshole why do you insist on sneaking up on me!” 

He raises his hands in mock surrender, before lowering them. His signature smirk gracing his lips, “I’m not sneaking up on you sweet-cheeks, can I help it if you’re not observant of your surroundings?” 

You scoff rolling away from him. He leans down closer and you can feel his breath against your neck. “I brought you something,” he says quietly. Placing a small white box on your desk. 

You stop typing momentarily before you hesitantly reach for the box. Fully expecting something to jump out at you. You place the lid of the box aside and look puzzled at a new pair of purple earbuds. Yours had broken last week when stupid Evan wasn’t looking where he was going and crushed yours. 

“Purple’s my favorite color...how did yo-” You look around but he’s gone. No trace of Max at all. You tentatively plug them into the small speaker still half expecting them to blow up and when they don’t you place them in your ears. These were a lot nicer than your last ones. Interesting.

Wednesday 

Lunchtime. The one time a day you can escape the freezing office and get some peace. You had made it a habit over the past few months since Max’s arrival to eat in your car with the heat on so you can finally escape the chill. 

You look in the fridge for your lunchbox but it’s gone. You take out every single bag from the fridge before replacing them. Some fucker took your lunch! You stalk like a cheetah throughout the cubicles before you land upon Tim. Who is greedily eating up your Philly cheesesteak leftovers from the night before as he watches cartoons on youtube. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” you shout startling him, “You took my lunch! Why don’t you just eat your own!?” 

“Oh shit, hmm I can explain...oh fuck… I was just so hungry and it was just there. Your not mad right?” he stutters. 

You can feel your blood pressure rise and reach around him to grab your lunchbox, smacking him upside the head with it before storming out. When you reach your car you note the time and scream knowing you don’t have enough time to go get something. Your head hits the steering wheel and you scream again. 

Suddenly a knock sounds from your passenger window and you jump. Looking up into the slightly concerned eyes of your boss. You put a hand to your chest before putting down the window on the right, “I swear to god I think you are trying to murder me by scaring me to death!” 

“Unlock the door,” he tells you and at this point, you can’t think of a good reason not to. 

You click the button and the door unlocks. Max gets in with a loud rustling sound, closing the door behind him. “For the record cupcake, if I wanted to murder you, you would know. No, I saw you in the fridge hunting for food and decided to be a nice boss for once and bring you lunch, you like empanadas right?” 

You look at him like he’s grown an extra head before nodding, “Yes…? They’re my favorite food...how did yo-”

He hands you the container and tucks into the other one himself. Neither of you saying anything. When the clock strikes 11:25 you clean up the small mess you made and lock eyes with Max. His food sits half-eaten in the box and he’s just staring at you. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers but it’s so low your not sure you heard him right.

“What?” you ask.

“I said you’re a mess, here,” he hands you a napkin and you wipe your face. 

“Thank you...for everything,” you tell him smiling softly. 

“Can’t have my best employee starve to death can I?” he takes the containers from your hands before getting out of the car. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. Curious. 

Thursday 

Thirsty Thursday with your old college buddies tonight you decide to dress up for work. Wearing a deep blood red halter dress that stops just above your knees, a black cardigan, and black kitten heels. You can’t help but admire your reflection in the metal walls of the elevator. 

All-day you’d received compliments and it felt damn good but someone was surprisingly absent. The only trace of him you had seen all day was a still-warm guava and cheese empanada on your desk with a note. 

You look ravishing, kitten.

You blush before tucking the note safely into your clutch. When the day finally ends you confidently stalk past his office and you’re disappointed to see it dark. Its occupant already long gone for the day. You shrug, oh well. At least today you didn’t get the shit scared out of you again. 

At the club, your friends are well on their way to being drunk and you take two shots to try to catch up. “LET’S DANCE!” they cheer pulling you toward the lights of the dance-floor. 

You bump, grind, and groove to the music and the liquor flows freely until you find yourself more relaxed than you had been all week. “SHOTS!” your friend shouts heading back over to the table but you’re lost in the rhythm of the music and shout back that you’re staying. 

It only takes a moment before hands snake around your waist and pulls you flush with someone’s back. You gasp when you feel the freezing cold hands pull you tight, and someone’s breath in your ear. “Hi baby,” he whispers in your ear and you melt. Turning around in his arms. 

“You, again. What have I told you about scaring me?” you scoff but don’t move away, taking a step closer. 

He moves his hands up and pushes your hair behind your ears, his hands running down your neck and holding you. His thumbs lazily caressing your cheeks, “it’s not my fault your unobservant of your surroundings doll. But, also I like to keep you on your toes. Always waiting for me to show up. I know you missed me today. I saw you saunter that sweet body past my office before you left...you wanted me to see you.” 

Your cheeks heat and you let out a small puff of air...ah fuck it. 

Closing the distance between you and kissing him softly. You bring your hands up and mess up his perfect hair before he opens to you. He tastes like peppermint and a slight coppery tang and you feel consumed by him. Despite how cold he is you are burning alive. All your senses heightened and you lose yourself in him. The crowded club is gone until it’s only you and him. 

When you finally break to breathe he pulls you close and traces his hands slowly over your curves. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” he whispers in your ear, “but every time I got close enough...you would scream and curse at me. Kind of ruined the mood…” 

You laugh and hug him tightly before kissing him again, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Oh fuck yes,” he pulls you towards the door, out of the club, and towards a new tomorrow. 

Day 22: Distorted Sounds 

Taglist: @josepedropascal​ 

If you want to be added to my tag list let me know! 

[xxskycrystalxx]

My Thoughts on Lucifer Season 6 [SPOILERS AHEAD]

In order to organize my thoughts better, I decided to break it up into parts (things I loved, disliked, etc.)

Things I Loved:

Deckerstar || We have been on a journey with Lucifer and Chloe since the very beginning. I am so thankful and overjoyed to see how they both developed as characters and as people who love each other. They’ve had so many hurdles/hardships/obstacles in their relationship that it took them until the fifth season to finally get together, after five whole years. To say that I’m proud to see what Deckerstar has become is an understatement, they give me life. There were sooooo many Deckerstar moments in this season that I absolutely loved, from exchanging “I love you’s,” to “partners til’ the end.” (+ flying together and radiating bde as they should) They are literally the epitome of “freaking soulmates,” the amount of love and sacrifices they had for each other just makes me tear up just thinking about them. Also them being actual parents this season was honestly a dream come true. I loved seeing them work and grow together as parents. (Rory calling Luci dad and his face just.. UGH MY HEART)  And their kiss(es) at Lux before Lucifer left, that has got to be my favorite above all. They both have come a long way and they deserved every bit of happiness they got. 

Maze & Eve’s wedding was absolutely beautiful. 

Dan finally getting the closure he needed and going to heaven + giving comfort to Trixie.

Amenadiel || I don’t know if I’ve said this much, but Amenadiel really is one of my most favorite characters on the show besides Lucifer and Chloe. I knew he would've become God sooner or later in the season and I’m glad he did, because we know that that’s his calling, and he’s doing amazingly. I also really liked him being in the LAPD. He got to really understand and see from a different perspective while being an officer there and learning from Officer Harris (which btw I love their camaraderie). I also really loved that Amenadiel and Maze’s friendship was shown more this season. 

The cartoon theme they had in “Yabba Dabba Do Me” was one of my favorite things on the show, and it reminded me just how much I had loved cartoons when I was a kid. And also seeing Lucifer and Chloe being cartoonized was the literal best.

I think we established the fact that Chloe is the best mom ever and she’s powerful af with or without Amenadiel’s rod. 

Lucifer has come a very longgggg way from where we last saw him in season one. The development was hard earned and he deserved it. “Because if the devil can be redeemed, then anyone can.”

“My socks are missing.”

Carol & Ella are C U T E

Linda writing a book about Lucifer and her first draft is essentially about 60% canon and the rest of it is like some really hilarious fanfiction LMAO || Ok jokes aside about the book though, it did help Rory see the other side of the story that she’s missed her whole life, she now knows how much Lucifer loves Chloe, how much he sacrificed her, and how he wouldn’t abandon her unless he had no choice. The flashbacks made me cry so much, it just makes me remember how much Lucifer and Chloe went through together. Linda Martin is the best therapist and the best friend the Devil could ask for. 

Even though the ‘goodbye’s’ Lucifer had to do before he thought he would disappear was sad and made me cry a lot, I really loved how he could finally tell his family, the people he loved, what he felt about them truly. “You’re my favorite brother, brother.” UGH MY HEART; ok but Lucifer and Chloe being in that panic room together and just trying to be with each other just... chef’s kiss. 

Everyone essentially got a happy ending. 

Things I Disliked/Wasn’t a Fan Of:

Time Travel || Look, don’t get me wrong. I love time travel. It’s great, it’s fun and it’s interesting. Was it the right choice to include it in the last season, when there was enough going on as it is with the supernatural? Idk, you tell me.

Lack of Trixie. Can a girl dream? The way I really thought we’d get some important or nice moments with Trixie (besides her and Dan) and Chloe + Lucifer......Mazeve’s wedding didn’t really count since they only really had like a few lines together. It would’ve been nice to see Trixie and Lucifer bond more, even comfort her when she’s feeling sad about her dad again. We didn’t even get her in the beach scene where Lucifer, Chloe, and Rory went as a FAMILY. Like I know she had her scene with Dan and helping him ascend to heaven, but was it really that hard to get her in a scene/moment with all four of them doing something as a family? And we didn’t even get a goodbye between her and Lucifer like what happened? 

What Amenadiel had, Lucifer should’ve gotten as well. Amenadiel as God, he still visited Earth many times, he was there for his son’s birthday’s and Christmas’s. Lucifer? Nope. He was down in hell the whole time. I know he made a promise to Rory to not change anything but I thought it was a torture for him not to be with Chloe like he had always wanted and had a family and spending time with his friends. More like a torture for me in frank. Seeing Chloe give birth without him, raise Rory without him, and even die without him literally broke my heart into a million pieces. He doesn’t even get the chance to see his daughter. Which is why I can understand why so many fans are disappointed with how Lucifer ended, how Deckerstar ended. But I did make my peace with it, sort of... since Lucifer and Chloe can spend an eternity together. 

I liked Rory, but she technically was the reason her parents were separated for so long, idk I’m a bit bitter about that. 

To wrap this up....

Thank you Lucifer, for being a show that will be forever treasured in the fans’ hearts. Thank you for making such an impact on me. I’ve been with this show for many years, I went on an amazing journey with the characters that I love, thank you for giving us Lucifer and Chloe, Linda, Maze, Amenadiel, Ella, Dan, Trixie, and more. The show just means so much to me and I’m honored to have watched the show grow and be renewed, every step of the way. I’m proud to be a Lucifan. And I want to really thank the amazing amazing cast for bringing the show to life. Thank you to Tom Ellis and Lauren German for having the absolute best chemistry ever, for the absolute spectacular and awards deserving acting, and the best real life friendship ever. I will miss you two muffin bffs so much. I love this show, it’s cast, it’s characters, to the bottom of my heart. Goodbye, Lucifer, and thank you for everything. 

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[atinybitofau]

[ateez] M I N G I ⥗ baby daddy au

HIS DAUGHTER NEEDS HIM & SO DO YOU. MAFIA MINGI.

warnings: may contain triggering content.

a/n: I think this whole series is just gonna be a mafia spin off at this point 😂😂 ya’ll like it so much. let me know yeah?

• “Y/n, go home.”

• you lift your head up from your desk and see the time’s passed when you’d want it to be.

• going home an option..

• although not an option you can take just like that.

• “I can’t.” you blink your tired eyes open again. “Minhee’s staying with my mom this weekend. I can finally pick up some more hours.”

• “Sweetie,” your coworker slips over a hot cup of coffee. “You need to go home. Take a vacation— I don’t know. Just not the same body breaking routine of working for your baby and settling on take out chinese. Sweetie, you need to go home.”

• her words cut like knives.

• being no more than the truth rather than comfort.

• because you stopped loving home.

• stayed at work more than at home.

• and it’s for your daughter.

• working your ass off is for your daughter.

• even if you had to sacrifice your wants and needs,

• you’ll do anything for your daughter.

• “Mom, I have to stay a little late today.”

• she’s hesitant to reply,

• gun to her hip as a familiar man plays with your baby,

• whimpering at the speaker hoping you could hear the desperation in her voice.

• “Sweetie, why don’t you come home early tonight?” she shakily says eyes shut when the gun’s gently forced to her ribs. “Please, y/n. Minhee misses you.”

• you don’t spare another thought. “I have to finish this paper, mom. Just one more night.”

• “I can’t have her for one more night, you have to come home. I need a break too.”

• you’re silent for that one.

• knowing your mom is well aware of your present distress.

• always hoped you’d give yourself what you really deserve.

• tries her best to give what she can, even if you say she can’t.

• because she’s a mom.

• and mothers know best.

• “I’m on my way.” you sigh, fingers rubbing at your temple. “You can tell them to let you go, ma. I’ll be there soon.”

• she sighs in relief.

• hoping one day you’d make amends with yourself.

• hoping one day your ex boyfriend would make amends with you.

• “If you needed a babysitter, why didn’t you just tell me?”

• you roll your eyes taking Minhee away from his warm embrace. “Stay away from my daughter, Mingi. And that goes for your friends too. Stay away from my family.”

• Mingi’s in headspace whenever he’s with you—

• always.

• being the only woman to ground him at his worst.

• a woman he once loved.

• until the day you forgot what love meant.

• worked too hard and thought too hard against him,

• what he means to you and your daughter.

• what you and Minhee mean to him.

• “She’s just as much as family to me as she is to you.” he stands up and follows you, his men turned for sake of privacy. “You can’t keep me from her forever.”

• you whip around harshly. “I will keep her from you as long as I’m able.”

• it hurts him to see you so burdened.

• to see you so locked up in chains.

• when you deserved the world since the beginning.

• never sure how he ended up with you in the first place.

• “I can protect her.” he insists voice raging out of frustration. “Believe me, I can do better than what you think I can do.”

• “My daughter doesn’t need a man like you to do anything for her.”

• “For fucksake, y/n. She’s my daughter too!”

• but you have too much pride.

• too much fear around Mingi.

• afraid he’d love someone else while loving you—

• afraid that who he was, could stop him from loving you.

• “Get out of my house.”

• Mingi lets out a strangled breath before snapping at his friends for space.

• it’s not until you put Minhee to bed that things get too heated.

• another day of a broken relationship undergoing attempted repair.

• “Stop pushing me away.”

• you turn to look at the father of your baby,

• a man who loved Minhee as much as you.

• “Why do you want her so much?” your voice breaks when you ask. “So you take her, theoretically okay. You take her and then what? She grows up learning the trades you do? Grows up learning her father would give up blood sweat and tears for something that’s not even for her?”

• “Why do you keep making me out to be this worthless heartless man? Someone you never loved? Not even worth being her father?” his tongue hisses between his teeth seeing red when you speak. “I’d do anything for her. And I’ve made that very clear.”

• maybe you’re just jealous.

• possessive over the both of them.

• you can’t just share them.

• you think letting Mingi go was the right decision for you.

• that keeping Minhee to yourself wasn’t selfish at all.

• you don’t know how to share two different kinds of love.

• it’s selfish actually.

• how you’re afraid that somehow someway they’d both end up not loving you.

• “You used to leave me for your life,” you keep your voice hushed as you argue with the love of your life. “The days I wanted your attention, you’d find something else to think of. What would make having Minhee any different than it was when you had me?”

• his eyes search you.

• heart racing and body hot—

• still obviously very in love with you.

• curses his life day after day for it being such a ridicule against what he really wants.

• he just wants to be with you.

• wants you to be happy.

• wants to be with Minhee too.

• “I love you and my daughter.” Mingi cups your face between the palm of his hands. “No matter how many times I told you I loved you, you never believed me. And it’s fine if you don’t, y/n. It’s fine if you can’t accept my love for you anymore. But don’t take my daughter away from me. Don’t force her to reject me the way you do.”

• god only knows how much you really love Mingi.

• how your heart hurts every day not being able to have him the way you want—

• to have and hold a man that loves you and your family unconditionally.

• you just want to be happy.

• you just want Minhee to be happy too.

• “I’m taking my daughter away from what you do.” you whisper tear rolling down your face. “Not from you.”

• some days he’ll stay.

• some days he’ll be too busy to stay.

• or some days, he can’t be the Mingi you fell in love with.

• he can’t be Minhee’s father everyday.

• and that’s something Mingi can’t understand.

• you don’t want to reject him.

• most of the time, he rejects the both of you.

• “Come on, Minhee. Stop crying baby. Mommy’s here.”

• you’re on the verge of tears at this point.

• two hours now of your daughter’s helpless crying and trying to flee from your weak arms.

• you’re tired.

• you’ve been a mother alone for too long and you honestly do need a break.

• Minhee feels your stress and she feels tired when she’s with you.

• your daughter hurts when you do.

• and when she hurts, she looks for one person to hold her.

• her father.

• cause it’s not helping when it’s with you.

• “M-Mingi, please come home.” you cry airily through the phone like your life depends on it. “Mingi I can’t do this anymore. I can’t.. I can’t live like this anymore.”

• Mingi goes to Minhee first.

• and it’s just father instinct.

• how easy it is for your daughter to sleep against his big chest like it’s the fluffiest pillow in the world.

• but you’re alone when he’s with her.

• you’re crying in the bathroom almost ready to give up.

• tired of not being good enough.

• tired of feeling like you’re not loved enough.

• tired of knowing you don’t love people enough.

• Mingi hands his daughter to his friends realizing you haven’t left the bathroom for two hours.

• hopelessly throws his body against the door,

• until he finally breaks it open to find you unconscious on the floor.

• “Y/n.” he lifts you in his arms as you open your eyes to look at him, deep sunk and tired. “Please stop pushing me away.”

• you lean against the warmth of his chest.

• like he’s the fluffiest pillow in the world.

• “Please, y/n.. stop pushing me away.”

• you wake up feeling warm.

• the sound of Minhee’s favorite cartoon playing over playful laughter.

• you groggily walk towards the homey sounds to find Mingi suiting up to leave with your mom wrapped around your daughter at the couch.

• “Where are you going?” you stop him before he goes,

• Minhee confused and seeming unaware her father was attempting to flee in the first place.

• “I was just..” he swallows down his thoughts. “I have something I need to do.”

• of course you’re disappointed.

• you don’t ever want him to leave.

• so your baby girl runs into your arms reaching for her father too.

• crying for him to stay for the both of you.

• “Y/n, honey, let Mingi go.” your mom butts in. “He’s been here since yesterday and hasn’t had any sleep either.”

• you’re definitely selfish this time.

• cause people shouldn’t just force others to do things against their own will.

• but you know it’s what your baby girl wants.

• for him to stay just as much as you do.

• “If you decide to leave, you come back.” you demand at the father of your child. “You come home. And you come home to me and Minhee, do I make myself clear?”

• your mother smiles to herself while your daughter climbs into Mingi’s arms.

• Mingi speechless when you actually let her,

• stumbling when he replies, “Y-you want me to come back?”

• “I want you to come home.”

• you slowly lean up towards the tall dangerous man you used to love,

• bringing a soft kiss to his shocked parted lips.

• “I want you to come back home to me. And I want you to come back home to your daughter, Song Mingi.”

@atinybitofau

[papabirdurskeks]

I ask this both for Baron Dark, Ariandel and SkekSo !

Give me a character and I will answer: @ben-the-hyena

Oh boy a triple feature! :D Here we go, folks!

Under a read more cause its going to get long but each listed character will be split apart evenly!

First up is Baron Dark!

Why I like them: He is just bombastic in personality! He lives loud in his actions and words, participating in most of the action himself while also showing he is a threat and menacing altogether! I also like that he is one of the few villains that shows he cares for his crew as a “family” (at least for most part of the series before being overtaken with obsession to have power more on his own). Given the dynamic we are given from the show, its obvious he cares and treats them all on a level of respect as well, something so rare to see nowadays! And I also enjoyed that his reasons to take over and do the shit he did in the series, “Because I can!” is just as refreshing and fun to see in a villain too!  And again, his design is a top tier design I love overall! Its menacing, powerful, and outright amazing! Definitely adds to the character and how well he works in effect to keeping my attention! Like just look at that design! And his VA did a wonderful job of adding to that charm that is just delightful to see in his personality! Overall, he is totally a villain I would love to see more of in the future!

Why I don’t: I say my dislikes often fall on the usual tropes of a kid’s show of the 90s. He talks too much when he could be doing things himself and falls victim to the typical “I am too powerful” but doesn’t think of the obvious steps ahead that will be his downfall. But honestly, its so small I don’t find it jarring or that bad to be in the way! It was the 90s and aimed at kids at the time, so we can’t expect TOO much out of that xD

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Oh man, that’s a tough one cause every scene/episode Baron is in he totally slays it! Its either a tie from the first episode to the very last one cause the stakes of start and finish are so well done, I love it all! 

Favorite season/movie: Obviously, the TV series is the best version of him! The comics sucked and turned him too OOC from what was initially given! Like how does one go from point A to be Z so freaking fast? xD

Favorite line: “Because I can.” Yeah, not gonna lie this was indeed my favorite line of his xD

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the outfit he gains near the end of the series is by far my favorite! Its like a mix of the Bejeweled Catacomb Saints and Mictlantechutli put in one and its befitting of the Baron given his gain in power! 

OTP: Baron and Cyborn are my OTP and are married, fight me. 

Brotp: Definitely Brotps with the rest of his henchmen though I see them more being like his adoptive children! 

Head Canon: Baron is of indigenous background! I also like to headcanon that the white tuft/strands in his hair are truly his and have been there since birth!  (I have so many more HCs for him but I will keep it short cause it can go all day x’) )

Unpopular opinion: Don’t think I have one, at the moment at least. 

A wish: To have gotten more information/lore on him and the entire cast, honestly! I would have loved to see more of his character explored and what more he could have had to offer as a series main villain! Hell, the whole damn series had so much to offer! And just the relationships he has with the others and what more he could have done post season and before! So much potential there to be explored! I honestly would not be objecting to a reboot/revival or continuation of the series! 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Though with that said, if a reboot does come around, don’t turn it into the mess of current cartoons we have. Not that they are all bad but most of them have been very disappointing in keeping my attention and liking. Keep the same type of messages it had before! It worked beautifully as it did then and still does work now! I’d love to see the same formulas used while also updating it to be more gritty and mature like they did for Castlevania! Just... Don’t turn it into a cringe worthy mess that will ruin Baron and all the characters in the series! Don’t do what the comics did! 

5 words to best describe them: Charmingly evil, badass, fun, conniving bastard, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Mega dork (affectionately speaking)

Next is Ariandel!

Why I like them: Oh boy, there is a lot to say in terms of why I like him but I will try to keep it short and simple for time purposes!  His design is top tier for me! Like a rotting skull like face? Check! A monstrous body much like a bird’s? Check! And to add he is a giant Corvian, which are one of my favorite enemies in Dark Souls III!  His personality also differs from the usual loud, bombastic, and proud characters I tend to gravitate for. Instead, he’s withdrawn and rather sad to look at and hear. You know he’s going through a lot but don’t know exactly what it is. In game, one can sort of get hints as to what has gone on behind the scenes but at the same time, its still vague and hard to really pinpoint what really did happen. So he has that air of mystery to him that I honestly adore in many characters as it leaves room to explore deeper into their lore! But I also find his personality relatable as well as sympathetic.  But that’s just me, I can gush about him all day but I will cut it short here x’)

Why I don’t: To be honest I don't have any reason not to like Ariandel other then the small fact that he followed Friede and let the Painted World rot in such a terrible state. But that is so minor of an issue to me to really make a difference, lol. I adore this giant bird man!

Favorite episode (scene if movie): I have to say the scene where he ultimately snaps and breaks out of binds after seeing Friede's lifeless body before him is my favorite scene of his. The amount of pain and anguish heard in his scream and the way he moves prior and after; I can very much relate to that feeling. Sometimes, actions truly convey the emotions better in the most powerful means necessary. And this scene alone truly nailed it.

Favorite season/movie: He's only ever seen in the Dark Souls III DLC, so obvious answer points to the DLC!

Favorite line: "When the Ashes are two, a flame alighteth. Thou'rt Ash, and fire befits thee, of course..."

Favorite outfit: Uhh, he doesn't really wear any clothes save for his cape? So I guess the cape does him well as he is, though I always draw him without it xD

OTP: To be honest, I don't ship him with any canon characters within Dark Souls. Friede does not deserve him..

Brotp: Ariandel being best friends with the Ashen One is my ultimate Brotp! Just think of how much of a valuable ally he could have been!

Head Canon: I know his origins are debatable, as either theory I have for him can be plausible but I often lean more towards the idea of him being half Giant and half Corvian! IDK why but I just like it a lot more x’)

Unpopular opinion: While Ariandel is partly responsible for what happened to the Painted World, I still feel he was manipulated overall and probably at one point did have a change of heart before being forced into complete isolation. He plays more the role of the willing/unwilling accomplice then the actual perpetrator of the crime.  

A wish: He could have had a happier ending without having to die for Friede. I know, its Dark Souls. Such a thing is expected to happen in the Soulsborne series but its a wish, right? 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: That anything beyond the infatuation he had for Friede took place. Just.. No. He loved her but never could ever have her in that sense and never did. Just no, she is horrible to him. 

5 words to best describe them: Sad, lonely, birdman, withdrawn, and tragic

My nickname for them: Papa bird

And lastly for skekSo!

Why I like them: I think its as obvious as the case for Baron Dark. I like evil, smug bastards that shine through their wickedness and don't usually hold back. In the case of skekSo, I actually didn't care for him at first but then after my second viewing of the show, I started to like him more and enjoy his villainy! He's selfish, arrogant, vain, and conniving and I love it! Added that his design is really appealing to the eye and how he carries himself out, I gotta say he's one of the few villain characters from a show that makes the turn around for me to like them instead of hate them more. Also, his voice. Can NOT go wrong with that voice cause DAMN, its good and shows just how powerful a villain can be with a voice like his. And those eyes. Oh man, those eyes!

Why I don’t: Despite his villainy being the main point that caught my attention, its also a part of his downfall too. His constant greed and arrogance pushed him too far into doing what he did and ultimately cost him everything in the end; including loyal allies that end up dying for him in the long run. I hate how easily and quickly he changes his mind when actual logic is put into perspective of his plans and how quick he is to dismiss someone else when they don't please him anymore or things don't go his way for the smallest things. And yes, that is part of his character, I know that. That is what makes him as scummy as he is and why I love how trashy he is. But I also can't ignore just how easily he pushed skekVar away and believed skekSil despite knowing just what a lying bastard he is. IDK, it just feels too obvious but at the same time, it is what it is and I am not upset about it in the least x)

Favorite episode (scene if movie): Honestly, I enjoyed all the scenes with him in the show but mostly in particular with his interactions with skekVar, especially towards the end of the series. It showed a peak part of his vulnerability in his character that honestly I doubt he ever shows to anyone else. He spends most of his time pushing others around and making them fear him but with skekVar there is a sort of mutual respect going that really speaks out in a different way. Maybe I am just reading too much into it, but I always did enjoy how they interacted with one another!

Favorite season/movie: Well, skekSo didn't get much screen time in the movie other then him dying and turning to dust so.... Definitely enjoyed him more in the show then the film xD

Favorite line: "NOOOOO!" (Yes, this scene is still very infamous to me for personal reasons but the way he carried out his "no's" cracked me up each time xD)

Favorite outfit: Honestly, the main outfit he wore throughout the show. It's just so regal and goth, I love it! And as a goth and fashion enthusiast myself, I am all up for the style he has! The battle armor he wore near the end made it a tad more laughable to be honest.

OTP: I started shipping him with skekVar but ended up with an OT3 of skekVar and skekZok. So now all three of them live in a happy relationship with each other in my noodle~

Brotp: I see him being on neutral terms with skekMal! 

Head Canon: I feel that even in the show it wasn’t seen or given, but he did feel a lot of remorse and regret after the loss of skekVar. He seemed very close with him and spoke with skekVar with more trust then he did the others. Perhaps in secret he did mourn the General’s loss. 

Unpopular opinion: Does this count as an unpopular opinion? I know most people see him with just a few strands of hair but I tend to see him with a head full of long flowing white locks he keeps hidden beneath his clothes. It adds to the extra layer of vanity for a proud Emperor such as he! He looses it over time the darkening consumes him and withers down his health. 

A wish: To see what he was like as an urSkek prior to being split up into a Skeksis and urRu. Yeah, I know people don't care or like the urSkeks all that much but honestly, I would LOVE to see more urSkek lore and see what it was that made SoSu so special among his peers. It was said, after all, he had a voice that could move the stars but was conflicted and consumed with darkness. Honestly, I want to know why and who he was prior to all of this mess! SkekSo even says in the show he still has nightmares of the life before so I wonder, what they were and how it was! So much potential here, man!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I don’t think I have any of these to be honest? At least with skekSo. Not that I can think of on top of my head now. 

5 words to best describe them: Proud, absolute piece of shit, pretty, conniving, and menacing. 

My nickname for them: Stupid idiot