#and if nothing else i wanted to get some metal af lines out of it

[ghostinthegallery]

It should be no secret that I adore Oltyx. He's one of my favorite 40k characters. Which is amazing because let's be real, he's an insufferable little shit who spends most of the books consumed by entitlement, paranoia, or both. He's just so damn well written, the elements that make him awful (which also form the starting point for his character arc) don't quite overshadow his redeeming qualities (which prove he is a person worth giving the opportunity to grow).

Those early chapters do some serious heavy lifting, character-wise. Oltyx comes out the gate swinging for "worst protag of the Year award". He's bitter, he's convinced all of his problems are someone else's fault, he is needlessly cruel to his subordinate (ready to kill Neth just because one grot made it to the stairs). A real winner, right here. Except for two things:

1) he doesn't want his soldiers to die. Sure, he justifies this with facts and logic. Attrition will eventually diminish his forces, leaving him unable to defend his shitty planet, and he isn't getting reinforcements anytime soon. But still, he wants to preserve the lives under his command. He wants to create a "new way of war" which is surprisingly sympathetic for someone who acts like a surly teenager (more on THAT later). Bonus that he does not in fact kill Neth

2) his flashback where he sees Djoseras' first lesson to him. Where we see that Oltyx is not exactly a reliable narrator regarding his elder. And if he's wrong about Djoseras, what else is he wrong about? The narrative is doing something here.

That second point is super important. Because there's a huge difference between reading an asshole protag where the author knows they are an asshole vs. where the author doesn't. The former can be incredibly satisfying as you watch someone grow and change. The latter is annoying AF. That flashback (for me) is like a footnote from the author promising "hey, not all is as it seems, bear with me."

Oltyx's hints of compassion are the incentive.to.give him a chance. Which is then further cemented when we enter the tomb and get to see Oltyx's affection for Yenekh, the first character we see Oltyx caring about. Proof that he has relationships that matter. He doesn't actually hate everyone and everything. And as the narrative continues, we peel back the layers to see what Oltyx actually is.

While I reading those opening pages, I joked to my spouse that Oltyx sounded like a teenager who listens to too much emo music. Turns out that was not actually a joke, that was the entire character. As we get more of his interactions and flashbacks, we are shown someone trapped in perpetual adolescence. Who had the compassion beaten out of him by war, trauma, and neglect (or literally sliced out of him, fuck Hemiun). The more you see of Oltyx the more heartbreaking he becomes. Not because he isn't terrible (he is) but because he didn't have to be. Yet it is so understandable why he is. The lessons he was taught even by the people that loved him (life has no value, compassion is a weakness, lies will come from those closest to you) twisted a kind soul into a conflicted mess. It excuses nothing but explains everything.

But despite ALL OF THAT Oltyx still tries to do the right thing. He tries to save the dynasty that exiled him, he tries to fight beside the brother he taught himself to hate, he tries to resist the madness that he thinks will make him a monster. He literally has the mind of an eighteen year old, trapped in a metal body that is slowly destroying what little sanity he has left. That's a lot!

Crowley had a fine line to walk writing Oltyx, making him sympathetic but not dulling the impact of his darker traits. For my money he did it brilliantly. Oltyx is my precious son who has done everything wrong and I love him.

#necrons #wh40k #Oltyx #twice dead king #yes he is a little shit but considering that he is also perfect and precious and must be protected at all costs #what angsty music is oltyx listening to? #evanescence was my middle school go to #i think he'd appreciate MCR #he had a lot of time to fill tho #needs more music recs

[deathlysilent13]

DPxDC Fic Snippet: Clockwork Sets Up a Meeting

(So, I can't call this one what I want to because that would be telling af, so for now it'll stay a premonition via Clockwork. What happens after this? WHO KNOWS! lol)

Standing in this particular location is absolutely not on the list of things Danny wanted to do today. He levels the fifth glare of the hour at the calm, vaguely smug ghost floating next to him, purple cloak impeccable as always. They bypass the obvious rooms, going lower and lower down staircases that appear to simply pop into being as needed. Danny's so lost at this point he doesn't dare lose sight of Clockwork.

They come to a massive metal door. Bolts are dotted like sprinkles across it, and thicker beams cross diagonally across the whole thing in a strangely plaid adjacent pattern. There's two keyholes, one on each door, and a mounted metal head of some creature or other above each slot. This is definitely a door designed not to move.

Clockwork pulls two keys out of nowhere and one at a time sets each into it's hole and twists. The hum of the released locking mechanisms seems as complex as the door itself, but eventually it swings open. Danny expected a lot of things. A torture chamber. Mountains of gold like that cave in the beginning of Aladdin. An army waiting for Pariah Dark to wake and send them forth. A weapon's cache that would make Skulker and Danny's dad both weep with delight.

He was partially right. One wall does actually have piles of treasure looking like a pirate's haul. Youngblood can never know. But there's a wall of somewhat haphazard bookshelves filled with leather bound tomes. Words are etched into the spines in what Danny can only call holographic ectoplasm green. It makes him vaguely nauseous. Piles of scrolls, files, and objects surround these bookcases, all labeled in some form or another.

Danny follows Clockwork to this wall, skimming the titles. The names. There are names on these tomes. "Clockwork, what is this?" he asks softly, voice echoing.

The Master of Time doesn't look away. "These are the souls contractually bound to the King," the old ghost answers gently. "All are yours now. Some belong to Pariah by name, some simply to the King. By defeating him in single combat, your acceptance of your right to the crown means all things once belonging to him, even to his name specifically, are now your domain."

He pulls a tome down as he speaks, handing the book to Danny. Danny looks down at the cover, embossed square swirls lining the edge all the way around. In the middle, almost a window is embossed, the frame a thin line tracing the outermost edges of each of eight rectangles, four on top and four below. Each rectangle looks like shattered glass, the lines somehow both delicate and chaotic.

Clockwork lets him study the design in silence. "There is a braided leather bracelet embedded into the inside front cover," the old ghost says softly. "It was the binding for this contract, an odd one to be sure. Wear it, and never remove it." He says nothing further.

Danny furrows his brows, but opens the cover and pulls the bracelet from where it rests and slips it on dutifully. "What will it do?" he asks, curious. He doesn't want to read the tome, most are done in the language of demons and he hates looking at it.

Clockwork merely gives him that weird, knowing, vaguely constipated smile. "All things in time, dear Kingling," is his answer, and he leaves before Danny can say anything further. He sets the tome down and scrambles to catch up lest he be well and truly lost, only barely registering how the doors automatically close and lock behind him. He knows he's not getting anything else out of the old ghost, so he asks him slightly more general questions about the other tomes and some of the other things within the vault instead. It occupies their path out of the castle, and Clockwork bids him farewell before disappearing into a swirling blue portal, dramatic as ever.

#wip excerpt #work in progress #dpxdc crossover #ghost king Danny #the design on the cover is from The Aetherium Wars from Skyrim #the door is the Thieves Guild's vault door from Skyrim #Because it amuses me

[linnorabeifong]

🪡 The scene you worked the hardest on in any fic?

👀 What’s an idea you had for a fic that you never did anything with?

🪡 The first one is so hard to think of. All scenes are hard af for me because I’m so new to writing and so afraid of the crazy ideas my brain churns out.

I think “The Wedding” tbh because I so badly wanted to put the audience in Lin’s head space and show the brutality of her disorder. But I was also afraid that the scene would come out poorly and not be well received.

I didn’t want to cross some sort of invisible line, you know ? I also was afraid that it would come off as glamorizing eating disorders or that it would trigger someone. But then I thought about it and decided that tags and trigger warnings were sufficient and I realized that there was nothing glamorous about what I was writing. She’s at a party and she should be having a great time and instead she’s nearly dying in a bathroom all alone.

I got over my fear and just wrote it (actually wrote it mid concert because the anxiety of the night inspired anx!ous Lin) .

I wanted it to be beautiful in a way. It sounds weird but its because I find Lin as a character to be not only physically beautiful but spiritually too. She’s hauntingly beautiful. She pretty the way gray rainy days and cemeteries are. A kind of beauty you’re afraid to touch. Yet her suffering is so thorough that it’s shocking and the graphic nature of it is well… beyond gross.

so here is the scene, you have been forewarned the last person who read it messaged me and said "made me want to vomit"

major TW for blood, vomiting and eating disorders

"She can’t stop. Even though she wants to. Even though she is fighting against the urge desperately. Even though there is no food left to bring up. A metallic taste fills her mouth. Blood, Warm, red. Gushing, grunting, gripping the porcelain.

Choking. There is no air left in her lungs. She can’t breathe. She sits on the tile of Pema’s bathroom. She notices the blood dripping all over the ground. She would have to clean it, or else be given away by stained tile.

Blood. Dripping all over her clothes.

Blood. Red against her white face .

She feels warm and cold at the same time. She curls up into a ball. Her throat stings, her head is spinning. She closes her eyes.

Relief. After a few moments of desperate struggling she could breathe again. She pulls herself up off of the floor. Turns on the sink, cleans her hands, rinses out her mouth. Splashes her face. She glances in the mirror noting her messy hair and the blood and puke soaking her clothes. She fixes her hair and cleans her clothes off to the best of her abilities.

Her face is puffy.

Her eyes are watery and red.

She looks like shit.

Thump thump thump

Her thoughts are interrupted by loud knocking.

She freezes.

“Aunt Lin, are you in there ?”

She pauses for a moment.

“Yeah”

“I’ve been looking for you”

“You have ?”

“Yeah you disappeared two hours ago”

Shit.

“Are you ok ?”

“I’m fine” she said very unconvincingly, cringing internally at the hoarseness of her own voice.

Opal makes a sound of disagreement .

She has to get Opal to leave. She has to clean up the blood before anyone comes in here. The room smells of blood, and her clothes. Her clothes smell horrible, the metallic scent of blood mingled with the pungency of sick. She smells like death.

She doesn’t have any time. She quickly grabs the hand towels hanging up next to the sink and sopps up the blood off the floor. She throws the dirty towels in the hamper in the corner. She throws open the cabinet under the sink.

Tampons, nail polish remover, toothpaste.

Then she finally finds the cleaning supplies, sponges, bleach, peroxide, soap. She thanks the spirits.

“Are you sure you’re okay ?”

It was sweet that she cared.

“I’m fine, sweet heart just had too much to drink”

“Do you need me to get Kya ?”

“No,” Lin says immediately, too insistently .

The last person she wants to see her like this is Kya.

She sets to work scrubbing up the stain and then throws the sponge she used in the bin.

The room was clean. It was like it never happened."

Here is the whole chapter

👀 I have a thousand unwritten ideas.

A) College AU where Lin and Zolt are both professors and hate each others guts. Enemies to lovers. Could be cute but I don’t know if it’s a bit… done ?

B) Lin getting murdered by Tarrlok? It happens in city hall and there’s an irony in it because help is right there. Tenzin is right there. Kind of weird but the thought was like a poem. Like the heart beat Edgar Allen Poe poem. Except for it’s her blood dripping… and other sounds. It was a halloween idea but I decided it was too gruesome and never actually wrote it.

C) Another idea I had was what if some how Lin was Mako’s mother ? Like actually biologically his mom and it’s a huge secret. Too messy timeline wise for me to figure it out. If I figured that out who would his father be ? Why did she choose to not raise him ? Why didn't she find him after his parents died ? Too many plot holes for me. Maybe I'll try one day.

I have so many more but this is already a novel. Thank you so much for the ask <3 . I'm glad to answer more.

#legend of korra #lin beifong #fanfiction #archive of our own #linzolt #kyalin #the legend of korra #tw ed implied #tw disordered eating #tw vomit

[vinxwatches]

watching disenchantment season 3

big spoilers. i recommend it a lot. it can be harrowing, but the ending is so worth it. if you might watch it i recommend you do. otherwise, lets delve in.

the intro promises the love pendant to be broken and the screwed crown to be bloodied. those are very bad signs even with the better ones. a book that on a page is a stairway down? holy shit stealing that for my DND campaign. was that a visual gag, or what that more future plot points? and Bean has the endless conflict between the life she wants and the people she cares about. too good of a person to have a simple easy life.

on the one side Mora is being more rude then usual. on the other her girlfriend did just say no to running of with her over friends she doesn't know. damn, with a girlfriend like that Bean with have powerful AF muscles in no time, truly hope that's the way they're taking this. beating her mom with the strength literally gained from her girlfriend would be just so beautifully cheesy. satan is going to become a goodguy just to get rid of his wife isn't he. damn, that 3d was pretty good. i mean if you know what to look for you notice that it's not the 2d models, but you need to know to look for it. there are definitely some potholes in this one. like the conflict between Bean and Nora if you think too much about certain events does not line up, but when you just take it like a normal person it really works. don't know if i like the people constantly splitting up, but it does allow for more things to happens. it's simply hard to have too many people act at the same time and certain people make others largely useless. Elfo doesn't have a lot do to when Bean is around. he fits in small things and can be easily motivated, but that's it, any other activity Bean is simply better at. he works as friend of Bean of course, but she's less reliant on others to take action now. split apart there are just more conflicts that can be interesting.

yea, ok, this conversation is painful. i mean i get that that's the joke, but it's painful because it seems like a stupid way i could come across if i stopped worrying about how things i say come across, something i in general worry too much about making friendships incredibly hard. "it's like they took a nunnery and made it awesome", ah, a lesbian bar. oh, how odd that they did the same thing twise. first with lucy and now with bad beans body. of all parts of the body that you should not be hanging from THE HEAD IS NUMBER ONE! but the overall plan makes sense, i wonder if it'll come to fruition in a more willing manor. also pretty avatar legends of Korra. oh those are working together, that's not good. that means Bean is really running out of allies. fucking hell, i'm trying to watch this while doing something else. i end up just watching it. and then it comes with these strong cliffhangers meaning that stopping to watch is also really hard.

oh... he's just dead... fuck... that... sets stakes. i mean Elfo and Luci will probably be fine, but this may be the death of Miri. well, that's one problem... delayed some more, and another... solved, and replaced for getting lost.

ok, so yes, Elfo's death set a lot of bad things into motion, undoing it also removed Mora and the great relationship Bean has with Zog, if you could ask Bean it would be a hard question. OH, that's a fun plot twist. Miri isn't human? oh. that... well it explains nothing, but it's neat.

oh, she's finally allowed to start seriously winning. it really feels like an earned powerup. in part because it has been set up well, in other because FUCKING HELL LET HER BE HAPPY DAMNIT. oh. i thought they were allowed to get away to, idk, be a minibos later. nope, instead killed to set up some evilness.

oh. making her sound mad. yea, not a joke i think works in universe. like there's one fuck setting with a non mechanical function metal prosthetic. yes i know my immersion is broken by the strangest things but it's bugging me. damn, setting up something heavy, destroy yourself the saves the ones you love? i mean media in general says "do it and for your good deed you'll survive", but i'm afraid they won't do that here. it's either better, or much, much worse. maybe a reset and you get to rebuild your life, but i'm not fan of those endings either. don't undo everything we've grown to care about, even if it can be rebuild. one is planning to kill, the other is planning to delete.

everyone's coming together for (hopefully) the final finally. oh, the tune return. i wonder if there's a meaning to it or if it's just creepy for creepy sake. fuck this battle has some epic moments. i mean there's only so much you can do with the animation style, but fuck they truly do everything possible with it. NO, you can't do that. healing magic? not real? i was fearing that, the scene seemed awfully similar before. DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE END IT LIKE THAT!

yea, no, obviously there's no care left. for episodes it was set up she cared most for Mora. the show has struggled at times to set things up, Beans magic, was probably the only thing set up more. the only motivation could be the same as Dracula in the castlevania show: a long suicide. a rocket, to the moon? why though? well fuck, now everyone is dying. i'm hoping not permanently, but i don't trust it isn't. :O he killed god "love conquers everything, and anger helps"

goodbye Bean is not a promising title, especially after the last episodes cliffhanger. AND NO i will not be ok with Bean and Mora being together in heaven. oh, magic came from the tears of joy of angers mixed with steam from hell. what will tears of sadness do? i just realized what i want: i want dangmar to have a third act breakdown finally. i love Luci's arc. it has totally nothing to do with that i wrote his speech multiple times already in less elegant words. "i've always hated weddings, especially my own" the show has such good lines. not the gay wedding i was expecting, but still one i'm very happy about. i love an overly happy ending. finally a happy ending, it was such a long wait, but it was worth it. YES, finally the third act breakdown.

wait... but the world is flat. so how it it on the other side of the moon? also what a random reveal. it adds nothing, it takes nothing away. it's "what a twist!"

incredibly unbelievable happy ending. I LOVE IT!!! literally every plot point is is resolved, even the ones even i forgot about.

seriously the show had a lot of frustration to it, victories often fell flat, setbacks and defeats were often and big, and as someone who likes happy endings it was often dreadful. honestly i don't know why i kept watching. i guess just something made clear they had plans. sure, details about people plans seemed often not fully planned out in advance, but the arcs of characters? those were old, and they revealed they were working up to the happy ending i was after for so long. Really good series, highly recommend, fuck me if it can't be harrowing, which is why i'm writing it at 2 am because i needed to get to the end.

and i finally got the best way to describe it: the show is cynical, but not pessimistic.

#disenchantment #disenchantment season 3

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] Mafia!San - Will You Join Me?

word count: 2.9k warnings: explicit language, gun use, violence, description of death (not explicit), sexually suggestive, gets a lil steamy summary: cupid has a bullet with your name on it a/n: Y/N a little dramatic and San annoying af. I wrote this in a two hour flash at 2am, so this might be deleted after I reread it tomorrow because I’m pretty sure a lot of this is just me chatting shit.

1. Yoon, David – 12:45 Note to self: likes donuts. probs dunkin’, maybe krispy? idk just look for a man w a paper bag.

“I’ll have to warn you though, the lift is under maintenance, so you’ll have to take the stairs.” The receptionist smiled at you sympathetically. “I can get someone to help you with your suitcase if you’d like?”

“Oh no, it’s ok, I’ll just find another place to stay. I have weak knees anyway.” You forced a laugh and hoped the lady didn’t notice the dead look in your eyes.

“I’m sorry about that, love.”

Turning away with your suitcase in tow, you headed towards the building opposite the hotel and hoped that the rooftop would be easy enough to access.

It was quite irresponsible of you not to have a backup plan. It seemed that being named the sharpest shooter in the underground world had gotten to your head a little, but you argued that a bit of spontaneity never hurt anybody. Though your target would beg to differ.

Being a public building of offices, it was all too easy for you to reach the roof of the building. You found that walking with your held head high and gaze set straight ahead would never get you questioned. Who would ever stop someone with a walk so confident?

Thankfully, the rooftop hadn’t been turned into some garden space: an air-conditioning fan over here, a water tank over there. You checked your wristwatch reading 12:40 and muttered under your breath. The damn hotel lift had taken precious minutes of your time and compromised your view.

You opened your suitcase to set up your sniper, giving your little black cat charm on the side of your gun a squish. Cute.

Sitting on the case with your stock snug against your shoulder, you peered into the scope to get a closer view of the revolving doors to the bank. Oh great, there’s a lamppost in the way.

Mr. Yoon was apparently quite the punctual man, always seen stepping into the bank doors after his lunch break at exactly quarter to one and therefore, your window of opportunity was thin.

“I want it done today or you’re getting sniped yourself, Y/N.” You heard the voice of your boss yap in your head again. Blah blah blah, same old threat. You argued that procrastinating the man’s death was actually something very considerate of you to do.

You heard a familiar clatter of metal hit the floor and you turned your scope to the rooftop opposite to see a man in overalls with his toolbox open on the floor.

“Lift maintenance guy?” You muttered to yourself and wondered if the mechanics of elevators ran all the way through to the rooftop. You made sure that you wouldn’t be in his line of vision and swivelled back to your original position, cursing the man under your breath for ruining your first choice of setup.

12:44

“Come on, Yoon. Lunch time’s almost over.” Your finger lay restless on the trigger, itching to get a glimpse of the bank teller.

20 seconds.

“Krispy or Dunkin’ what will it be today, entertain me.”

10 seconds.

You saw the man turn the corner and waited for him to get a little closer for you to shoot.

5 seconds.

“That’s it, just past the lamppost and you won’t even know what hit y- what the FU-?” You shouted and quickly clasped a hand to your mouth. Mr. Yoon hadn’t even made it past the post, and he was already laying on the pavement in a growing pool of blood.

Calculating the angle in which he was laying, you spun your vision around to the hotel rooftop and saw the maintenance man begin to pack up a sniper back into his toolbox. Taking off his cap, you noticed a flash of white in his jet-black hair and just like he knew you were watching, he turned with a smug grin on his face and shot you some finger guns.

“Oh, you little fucker.” You spat, and watched the man jump down into a hatch to disappear.

You slumped dramatically onto the floor and splayed your limbs to stare blankly at the sky. Never in your life had you ever missed a shot, let alone have it stolen by someone else, and your boss had your phone ringing to rub it in your face.

“That wasn’t you, was it?”

“Listen, what if? You know, what if that was my thirteenth reason? I just couldn’t take it anymore and that was it. No more Y/N. You wouldn’t even come to my funeral, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t because you’d be too broke to have one. You realise you’re not getting paid for this?”

“Why? He’s still dead?” You sat up in disbelief.

“Well, it turns out someone else wanted him gone too. I can’t lie to our client and say that we did it.”

“You’re oddly moral for someone that runs a hotline for hitmen.”

“I’ll call you if I find you another job.”

“Justice for freelance contract killers.” You muttered weakly as he ended the call. The faint sound of police sirens filled the air as you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the concrete.

You pictured the man and wondered who it was that would even think to render the notorious Y/N L/N jobless. Though you did have to admit that it was a clean shot.

“Skunk-hair looking ass.”

2. Kim, Seungho – 18:00 Note to self: babysitting. easy target but kid knows NOTHING.

You were stationed by a corner window in an unfinished apartment building with a trainee by your side, setting up his kit.

Stood by the trainee, you scanned to see if everything was in the right place, checking the kid’s posture too. You had been sent by your boss to reluctantly train a young recruit and you joked if you had been demoted following your last predicament. You were never in it for the money though, you lived for the adrenaline.

The boy had potential and you saw it, he just needed to make cleaner shots because three bullets somewhat near the target’s vital organs wasn’t going to cut it.

“What’s your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The recruit replied, his eyes never leaving yours, in absolute awe.

“Eyes on the scope.”

“I’m sorry, nobody told me I’d be getting trained by you. The Seoul Shooter? Like wow.”

“Ew, is that what they’re calling me?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s a pretty cool name, they used to call me ‘Jitman’ in my hometown, not very creati-”

You shushed the boy and tapped his shoulder as you pointed to a small figure in the distance.

“You see him through the scope? Now keep your hand steady, never feel as if you’re being rushed. Death works to your schedule.”

“Got it.” Jisung said, following the man with his gun.

“Ok, on 3… 2… 1…”

You heard the bullet cut through the evening air and hit the target neatly through his office window.

“Bro? That was so clean? That has to be one of the sexiest shots I’ve seen in a while-” You began.

“Uhh, that wasn’t me, Y/N.”

Before you could even process what had happened, you heard the rustle of footsteps patter down the stairs behind you. Taking out your handgun, you moved towards the open door to find the same man you had seen on the hotel rooftop stop in his tracks on the landing. Clad in a fitted black sweater and jeans this time, he looked a whole lot more attractive close up.

“You again?” You exclaimed; gun still pointed at the man as he dropped his duffel bag to raise his hands.

His eyes widened, not in shock, but more with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s Y/N, the Seoul Shooter.” A coy smile painted his lips as he shook his white fringe out of his eyes.

“See, everyone calls you that.” Jisung interjected from behind.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Word around town is that you’ve been unemployed for some time now,” nodding towards Han, he added, “and it looks like the rumours are true.”

“I’ve actually decided to take a break you know? Let the other kids have a chance at making a name for themselves. Bit of charity work.”

“Y/N kinda got demoted because you keep taking their shots.” Han interrupted again.

“Hey, who told you that?!” You narrowed your eyes at the boy. Han Jisung was a smart ass and you vowed then and there that you wouldn’t take on any more training sessions.

You whipped your head back around to the man eyeing your body up and down.

“My eyes are up here, sir. Unless you really wanna get shot.” You spat.

“Well, I’d die a happy man if you were the last thing I’d see.” He smirked in retaliation and studied your eyes carefully. “Well, my job here is done, I better be on my way. Got a big cheque waiting for me.” He grinned as he reached to grab his bag and carry his way on down the stairs with footsteps too light-hearted for your liking.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jisung asked as you watched the man disappear into the evening.

“I don’t think killing a man for taking my shots is justified.”

“What, and sniping Mr. Kim Seungho just before he gets to feel the bliss of clocking out is?” He laughed. “Do you know what I think, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I’m not going to say anything.”

Han Jisung tormented you the whole drive back to the quarters.

“Y/N and Skunk Man sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lo-”

Smack.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just kidding.” He laughed as an idea struck him, “K-I-D-D-I-N-”

Smack.

3. Park, Kiha - 10:32 Note to self: bad man. bad, bad man. but big, big cheque.

Having had your last two shots stolen, mystery Skunk Man was beginning to get on your nerves. You were seething to the point that you demanded your boss give you another job, itching to defend your title of being the finest shooter in Seoul.

Laying on the floor of a rooftop hangar, the man had the gall to pop up out of the hatch to set up his station right next to you, as if you were both on some picnic.

"Nice seeing you here today, Y/N." He said, sitting cross legged to mount a scope to the top of his sniper.

Not even bothering to take your eyes off the target, you muttered, "I got here first, you better back off." voice laced with venom.

"Well I've been promised a cheque too, we're all just trying to get fed around here."

Ignoring him, you glanced down at your watch that read 10:31. Any time now, Park Kiha would be walking through the glass bridge to get to his meeting in the twin building.

Steadying your finger against the trigger, you held your breath and counted down from three, two, o-

"I like your cat charm by the way."

You pulled the trigger only for it to stray a little to the right, still hitting your target, just a little less central than you would have accepted.

You shot up from your position to face the man laying on his side, head propped up against his hand to look at you.

"Do you have something against me? Do I even know you?" You exclaimed, carding your gloved hand through your hair.

"No uhh, but I saw your face on a bounty poster once and thought you were cute." He said, attitude too blasé. "That was a nice shot though, I was going to wait a few more seconds."

"So you saw my picture, and started following me around to antagonise me?"

"Nah, I just happened to be super lucky to have been put on the same cases as you. Big bad men have a lot of people after them I guess?"

Throwing your equipment back into your bag, you watched the man proceed to roll over onto his back with his arms behind his head to look up at the sky.

The mid-morning sun cast a golden glow over his skin and though you spent most of your life working with guns, his uniform and kit next to him looked a little different, almost attractive. They suited him a little too much and you thought that if a sleek sniper were to be personified, it would look exactly like this leather clad man.

"I should ask for your number, the way you're looking at me right now, Y/N."

"Good luck, you won't get it." You turned to step down the hatch as he propped himself up again to watch you leave.

Choi, San – 15:25 Note to self: he’s kinda hot tho :/

So, we had finally put a name to the face. As your boss handed you a folder, you were slightly taken aback at the small ID picture pinned to the top of the file.

“You might be a little happy about this one.” He said, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s been recently recruited by ATEEZ as their sniper. Quite a deadly one too. He was scouted shooting pheasants down in the Namhae countryside apparently.”

“Hmm, how much?” You questioned.

“A million dollars.”

“Excuse me? A mill-?” You choked on the air and composed yourself just as quick to nonchalantly lean against the filing cabinet and look out the window, “I don’t know, he didn’t look a million dollars-worth to me.”

“He hasn’t been in the game long, but man has he taken down some big names.”

Though you didn’t necessarily feel too attached to Choi San, you did think that you were going to miss him a little. It was nice having a friend on your level to spar with.

Who were you kidding? You thought he was hot and that it would be a shame to have to shoot him.

But on second thought, you had been itching for the adrenaline in the trigger again, and the million dollars looked a lot sexier to you than some man.

“I’ll take it.”

-

San was all too easy to find. He seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight since no common person would recognize him in the bustling streets of Gangnam. Nestled in the corner of another rooftop, you zoned in on the recognizable black and white hair sat outside on the terrace of a café.

Once you were ready, you repositioned your finger on the trigger and focused the cross hairs on the familiar head. You were steady until San lifted his head and stared right back at you through the scope, sending you a wink.

“Shit.” You muttered, his actions throwing you off and when you repositioned your aim, he had slipped into the crowd, now lost.

“No, no, no, no, no, Choi San, ugh.” Seeing that he knew what you were up to, you got up to pace around the rooftop. Your mind worked nonstop to find an alternate solution but all you could conclude was to go home, stay low and pick another day to continue.

This man had thrown you into the worst slump of your life, but you were somewhat enjoying the chase and you hated to admit it.

The abrupt sound of a closing of a door behind you had everything clicking into place.

“You pretty motherfucker, had this planned, didn’t you?” You laughed.

Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, you turned to pull out the throwing knife strapped to your thigh and pulled his body in by his collar to reach his throat. And it just turned out that San had the same idea in pushing his handgun up underneath your chin at the same time, faces a little too close.

“I like your beret.” San said candidly, jerking his brow up at the hat on your head.

“Me, too. It’s Marine Serre.”

“Nice choice.”

“I’m going to count down from three and we’re going to drop our weapons, ok? And talk this out like adults because I for one, didn’t wanna kill you.” You bargained.

“Sure.”

“Three, two, one!” The both of you pulled away for a split second in bluff only to reposition your weapons against each other’s throats again.

“I knew it.” San smirked.

“No, for real this time. I mean it.”

“Go ahead, baby.” He smiled as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“Three, two, o-”

San cut you off by leaning into your lips, placing onto them a kiss so intense, almost mirroring the violent nature of the situation. However, what surprised you more was that you let yourself melt back into him. He let his gun clatter to the floor to walk you backwards into the wall behind, hoisting your leg up around his waist.

You broke away from the kiss for air when he smiled, “I mean, it is kinda hot, but I would appreciate it if you could stop holding that knife against my throat right now, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine.” You muttered as San leaned back in to kiss you whilst roaming his hand around your thigh, ridding you of the rest of your knives and smirking against your lips in satisfaction.

Feeling his bulge grind between your legs, you both only grew more fervent for each other as you kissed.

“Wait, I wanna take you on a date first.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Mhmm, to Bar 1117.” He hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t that your company’s place…?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna love you.” He whispered, peppering small kisses down your throat.

“Are you trying to recruit me or fuck me, San?”

"I mean, you can kill me now and leave for that million dollars or you can come with me for a new job and that million dollar dick."

"You're unbelievable."

“I heard you were doing freelance anyway, baby.” He looked into your eyes again, a mischievous glow blooming across his face, “So, will you join me?”

-

disclaimer: San’s pie chart hair is one of my all time faves but I also can’t stop thinking that it looks a little skunk-like. In the cutest way. a/n: I've edited this a lot since I posted it and I think I'm gonna keep it

-

Mafia AU Masterlist

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez san #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #mafia!ateez #mafia!san #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez mafia #ateez mafia au #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #san smut #san x reader #san imagines #san scenarios #san fic #san oneshot #san drabbles #san angst #san fluff #choi san

[nessinborderland]

Ampallang

Pairing: Niragi x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Your boyfriend has been distant. The real reason as to why might surprise you.

Warnings: Niragi has a dick piercing, you’re both dramatic af, miscommunication, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex

Notes: Anonymous asks: Can you write a steamy smut of Niragi and the reader, where Niragi got some new piercings to show off. (You can do any piercings but I would recommend dick or nipple piercings maybe both?) Here it is! So yeah, I had to make it somewhat realistic since piercings are a pain to heal and can infect so easily. Also, ampallang is the specific name of Niragi’s piercing :) <3 Enjoy!

Masterlist

“Okay, I can’t take this any longer, what’s going on?” you ask your boyfriend of six months, “We haven’t had sex in weeks and you barely let me touch you. Am I the problem? Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” you ask in a quavering tone. This question has been in your head for weeks, but you were always afraid to ask him. Unfortunately for him, after some beers, you’re more than ready to confront him, “Are you cheating on me?...”

“What?!” Niragi exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes, “No, baby, no it’s nothing like that. I would never do that to you!” he sounds offended but – more than that – he sounds genuine. You don’t know what to believe; why would he – a man that could barely keep his hands to himself while in your presence – be avoiding you all of a sudden?

“Oh my god…” your eyes fill with tears at the next possibility that goes through your mind, “Are you sick?” that’s it; he’s dying.

“Y/N, listen to me–”

“Am I sick?!” what if he knows something that you don’t? What if he has been avoiding touching you because he knows that you’re the one dying? “Please tell me that–”

“I got a dick piercing!” he blurts out aloud, hands on your shoulders as he shakes you slightly. There’s a moment where you just stay frozen, staring into each other’s eyes. That was it? He has been avoiding you, not touching you, canceling dates with you because he got a damn dick piercing?

Unbelievable. 

Your first reaction is to laugh, tears streaming down your face as you cackle and almost fall down the sofa you’re in. You hear him mumble something you don’t understand, muffled by your hysterical laugh. All this time you thought he didn’t want you anymore, that there was something wrong with you, but he just went the extra mile to conceal the fact that he had a dick piercing? 

You could actually kill him.

“You are such a drama queen!” you exclaim after your laughter subsided a bit. You look at him to see him red as a tomato, face half-hidden by his hand as he sends you a glare. 

“You’re one to talk,” he mumbles, before shrugging and casting his eyes down, “I don’t know what’s so fucking funny, anyway...” Watching him so angry and embarrassed makes you stop laughing altogether.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, dummy, I was laughing at your dramatic ass,” you get closer to him, taking his hands in yours, “You could’ve just told me you did it and I would be okay with it. But hiding it from me and making me think the worst? Not cool, dude.”

“I wanted to surprise you…” he says, hiding his face against your neck.

“Well, consider me surprised,” you chuckle as you pass your fingers through his raven hair. 

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting this to take so long to heal,” he continues, relaxing under your touch, “Even getting hard hurts. That’s why I was avoiding being with you, I always get hard just by looking at your fine ass,” his hand lightly pinches your thigh near your bottom, making you giggle, “I should’ve told you, though. Sorry, kitten.”

“It’s alright.” you kiss his forehead and put your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. You stay like that for some time, until you can’t avoid the urge to ask; you got to know.

“So…” you start, “How bad was it? Did you cry?” he huffs against your neck at your words, shaking his head.

“No, but it hurt like a motherfucker,” he says. In other words, yes, he cried, “I regretted doing it as soon as it was done. It got worse, though. When I said I was with the flu last month, I was actually home making sure my dick didn’t fall off.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head at this sequence of events. You could’ve been there for him and – most importantly – you wouldn’t be worrying yourself sick. But that’s in the past now.

“Hmm...can I see?” you ask. You’re really curious to see your boyfriend’s new piercing. You always found the ones in his face hot, but you don’t really know what to expect right now.

“I might actually explode if you do so much as look at my dick,” he says in a low tone, “I miss fucking this tight pussy of yours.” 

You let out a surprised gasp when his hand cups your sex, hips bucking against his palm in response. You missed his touch so much. And that’s why you throw yourself on his lap, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. He responds immediately, tongue pushing inside your mouth and teeth nibbling at your bottom lip like he wants to swallow you whole.

“Suguru, please…” you beg as he starts kissing down your neck, “Please fuck me, please-”

“Lay back, kitten,” you do as he says, reclining against the arm of the couch as he starts taking off your shorts and panties. You’re soon bare from the waist down, legs open as your boyfriend sets in between them, looking at your cunt like it’s the first time. It almost feels like it, after a month without doing anything but kissing. 

“Fuck,” he growls, sending a shiver down your spine, “I’m gonna eat your pussy until your legs are shaking and you’re begging me to stop.” 

You whimper as his lips latch onto your clit, sucking and licking it like a starved man. And he is, as much as you are. You moan freely, together with the sounds of Niragi eating you out, hands pulling his hair as you move your hips against his face. It feels so good, to finally have his hands on you.

He fucks you with his tongue and fingers until you're a moaning mess, legs shaking and dripping cunt clenching around nothing like he promised you. But you want more, much more. And so does he.

"Fuck…" he stops for a moment after you come the first time, grinding on the couch with a pained expression, "Fuck this," he says to himself, "Gonna fuck you with my cock anyway."

"Are you sure?" you ask in between panting breaths, watching him as he strips down completely. You notice something shining on his chest, and you smile, "Oh, that one is new too..."

"Yeah, do you like it?" his smile widens when you nod, still looking at his silver nipple piercing. When you finally see his member, though, that's when your smile falls and your mouth waters.

It looks so pretty. 

He's hard as a rock, and the piercing on the head of his cock glints strongly in contrast with the color of his skin. Is hot as fuck, and you feel yourself growing wetter at the prospect of finally having him inside you like that. 

“I did this one especially for you,” he says as he kisses you, “It’s supposed to make you feel good.”

"Put it inside me…" you beg as you open your legs wider for him. He almost trembles with excitement as he retrieves a condom from his pants on the floor, before carefully putting it on and lining himself up with your waiting cunt. 

When he finally gets inside you, you swear you can feel the metal of his cock touching your velvety walls. It feels so good it makes you want to come right then. 

"Fuck," he says as he starts slowly moving in and out of you, "You feel so fucking tight it hurts."

You kiss as he starts going faster, legs raised over his shoulders as the wet sounds of sex echo in the room. He always made you feel full, the head of his cock always hitting the right spot to make you come over and over with barely any clit stimulation, but this? This damn new piercing, grazing your walls at every firm thrust? Even better. 

"Fuck, it hurts," he hisses as he sucks on a nipple, teeth lightly grazing the sensitive bud as you clench around him like you want to trap him inside you, "Fuck, shit, don't stop hugging my cock like that. Keep going, kitten."

You come at his words – whole body shaking as he keeps fucking you through your orgasm – and do as he says, too fucked out of your mind to do anything else but that. 

He comes with a shudder and a guttural moan not long after, slowly getting out of you and discarding his condom, before laying on top of you, head in-between your breasts. 

You stay like that while you regain your breath, finally satiated after such a long time without each other.

"So…" your boyfriend starts, "Did you like it?"

"Very much so," you say with a smirk that doesn't go unnoticed, "But I'm gonna need some more testing to be sure."

"You can do whatever you want with it, kitten," he kisses you, long and slow, "After it stops hurting like a bitch, though."

#alice in borderland #ima wa no kuni no alice #Niragi Suguru #niragi x reader #niragi smut #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #submission #anon

[goddessjynx]

Any parent please answer?

Idk if anyone will see this, but right now I need just anyone to tell me I'm not crazy.

Am I a bad friend for wanting to hang out with my ex-bestie (eb for short) while she has her kids or she's busy and can't hang, so I offer to come over, to help watch, to help clean? Anything just to be there for her, why? Oh because she was on her third child, at this time I literally went over to her house to play dnd with her husband and brother and her sometimes. So I would try and say "hi" or talk, but instead we stayed doing something else or barely said hi. Ok, fine, hormones, got it. It got to the point of she wouldn't want to hang out with me for reasons she stopped telling me decent sounding excuses. Fine, That's fine, I have other friends who I can hang with or find other things to stay inside and not get out of the house to do. I don't need to leave the house, to get away from the suffocating inside the house with a mentally and verbally abusive, controlling husband. That's. Just. Fine.

So you know, time goes on. we find out that the reason she won't hang out with me, but will hang out with the other girl who she hates (Mind you the other chick literally broke into their house, tried to start drama all the time, and be hazardous to her already two children But who am I to judge about the person you rant to me about how you hate them so much?) But the other chick was also pregnant after divorcing her wife. It's honestly such a mess. So "anyways, I get excluded now because I "Don't understand what she's going through" or "I won't have the same experience" or I'm "not a good source of help" Lol, Okay? I still can't help? Be happy for you? Cool. So things go on, and just things have gotten worse on my end. I'm over here with such a mind debilitating baby fever, that I'm having to pull my car over watching children get off the school bus because I'm in such a crying fit that I can't breathe or see straight. So who the hell would I go to about what do I do? My Bestie right? (There's a reason we are eb rn) I tell her, well try, Idk how much she actually listened. But I tell her how I just can't think about anything else right now. I did everything right, and the world keeps slapping me back.

I own a 4 bedroom house. we have two cars, we even have decently everything working out in our favor, But all of a sudden, I'm not good enough for anyone. My own husband two months after getting married said he hasn't found me attractive for the last two years. THAnks. That's a real boost. This didn't start the fights, but that's a whole other set of rants. about a year before my eb got pregnant, around or right before July 4th, I strictly remember, I was in the walmart fucking bathroom. I had felt so sick the weeks beforehand. Like, My menstrual cycle hates me. She's savage af. Not to mention she likes to disappear randomly and appear with just cramps or a whole flood. I never know. But I remember calling my husband in a panic because I don't know what to do while I had to go to the bathroom so bad it hurt, and all I have is half dollar sized clots. Just something my medical brain, and senior year of AP biology says, "Fuck!" I have him figure something out because I'm really needing someone to just hold me in the bathroom I feel so sick to my stomach. I'm dizzy and all these symptoms I tell him to tell the doctor or whoever he calls.. So he calls, they say whatever to him. I don't either remember or he never told me what they said, (this is a normal of hiding information from me, A LOT) They said (What he told me) to just wipe things up and clean up then if it persists in the next 24 hours to go into the hospital. But I will have to see an ob-gyn.

So, Okay. Nothing bad. but they are in charge of everything along those lines. But those were including two words, that I now know were the two words this man didn't want to hear despite, DESPITE all the teasing and jokes about having kids with me when I was younger with him and literally just dating. That was because I had to see a family planning doctor. I was told by HIM that it was nothing, and we will be fine. I just blamed it on my cramps that are horrible and never put thought to it because I had believed that's what he was told. So that's a trauma my brain locked away until recently as I'm going through my divorce right now. But, I was thinking about how shortly after that, I got a call from my eb about how they were all waiting on me because I'm making us late for bringing stuff to the grill out and bonfire later. Fine, mask all the pain and keep fucking going. right?

She seemed genuinely not worried, saying it was probably just a bad cycle. She gets them all the time too. Its whatever. My now bestie's sister has gone through the same thing I described multiple times, enough that she looked at me and was like, "No, You possibly miscarried." even her mom went on about, "they should've never NEVER brushed that off like they did. If they cared then they would've made sure you were ok. My husband denied me from going to the doctor to see anything about it. Even after when I knew my hormones and emotions were just soooo off. But that's in my mind now, when before maybe around the same time my eb came out saying to all of us even her own husband one time saying she's been feeling crummy because she went in and she found out she had miscarried. It was so short after my stuff that she disregarded then took and made attention for herself that upset her own husband because she never told him until she told a bunch of us at a bar. I mean I felt bad for her, but Now thinking back, my gut says it was a ploy to make her husband to feel bad for her and to try for another one. Where as I'm over here waiting patiently because I jumped through Hoops to get where I'm at now.

My husband promised me children. Lots, its a fucking dream to be a mum. I care for everyone else, and their kids, why not have some kind of mini me to show of what I did. That I did good. That I can be useful to this world too. That I'm not just a lump of no good nothing to this world. But first, he needed a better paying job than a gas station.

Did that, he worked at a metal parts production place. But we then gave the fact that we still live in the apartment I got after moving out from high school. We rented a house. It worked, and it was nice. But now he needs a car, but he cant do that until he learns how to drive. 3 years older than me and I taught him how to drive. AND I helped him buy his first car, a truck. Oh but now, we still can't start a family. We are only renting. I have enough good credit that I could get a house alone, but I needed a higher pay. Bam with his income together we got a house.

Bam, I'm hit with baby fever and what not. NOW I get told, we aren't ready for anything like that yet, so wait two years. Alright, I'll wait. I can do that. We were going to go on trips together and do many things together and all of a sudden, the walmart thing happened, and it just got worse from there. It got to a point I got a job paying BETTER than him and I was the laughing stock to him and his buddies. THANKS. But I'm fine, everything is fine. The walmart thing was about two years after, so I mean, it was actually in the time frame and whatnot. Things just kept going on getting worse at home, I just kept listening. For reasons, I had to quit my high paying job, and then everything got absolutely horrible at home. Had to put everything I had control over money wise into his account for he worried it would take too long to find an new job and make money to suffice for bills. It was argument after argument, but I went to my eb explaining things, asking what the hell do I do? Her advice? To just do what he wants. The thing I had to quit about? She basically never cared about it. Everything just went on being a mess. I went on just letting people walk over me because that was the advice I was given.

I voiced my feelings that I have been following lies and how I feel hurt that I'm told dreams and having them be taken away. We never went on trips much. Instead we would buy a crap ton of ammo or new guns that I'm not allowed to use, yet I'm helping fund so you can get them, but when it was my own that I BOUGHT, all of a sudden, my things went missing and he would be out using and letting his buddies use my new guns and using up the ammo I had purchased on my own. I mean, fine, but let me at LEAST take yours out if you're going to use mine without asking. It got to be so annoying that we would be asked when we would get married or when we would have kids. He would be hugging me and smiling all cocky saying "Oh well we haven't stopped trying." every time. He would start that tell people this and I finally had enough. I stopped him and told him to put his money where his mouth was. He always said shit but never actually did it or acted on what he said. He would just lie to everyone. Tell people lies because it sounded nice. Best part? I had bought a ring for him. I proposed to him because he would joke about things like that. So I basically said, "bet" and did it. I have never received a damn ring! He wouldn't even want to look at them with me. Because they were expensive. Not all of them are. I don't care what price it is, but something to say, "Hey, I love you and Don't want the odd peeps at the bar to keep hitting on you so take this with you, its dangerous out there." (Shut up. I'm a nerd) But like.... I just would make notions about, I wanted a ring. He would beg me to pool together money and buy new guns, I mean I"m not against, but I would bring up that I will want a ring. Or even something else would be you know, amazing right now because I'm in a lost place wanting kids still and my eb just announced they were having their third. (which her own family was so upset about it that they ranted to me and my mom, her own brother said that its just another kid that they will end up taking care of instead of her so she can go to the bars again. Yep) So next we talked about getting a gun safe because, before we can have kids, we need to be SAFE. Ight, we bought it. Nice matte black 33 capacity, fire and water proof, best part the front had a reallly pretty engraved waving American flag imprinted on it. It was just so smooth. (Guess who has that right now btw) So oddly enough in the middle of me not being enough for my eb, My cycle kind of returned to being semi regular, and all of a sudden disappeared. Well that whole month beforehand we went from never wanting to touch me unless it was my birthday to every night he was angry after work and took it out on me instead. I mean, whatever. But when it came to me not feeling well, I told him.

Instantly it wasn't mine. I was fooling with other guys. Like instant psycho. His childhood friend came and moved up with us, she saw this for a good few months and had to move out because he was trying to control her as if she were a child. She told me that it was not right for him to be that way and that she will never talk to him for how he treated her. (which was exactly how he was always with me too) I'm not sure if he was trying to get my jealous because his bff was a girl? Idk we worked out like literally sisters. Sooo much in common and she told me, She believes he's never wanted kids. And she watched how I broke down after he told me he wanted nothing to do with me until I took a test. He DEMANDED that I took a test right away. If it was positive, it wasn't his until proven so. And if it was negative he would be fine. this was ridiculous. He wasn't at all happy or excited. Purely upset. I felt so shitty that after the test was negative I told him and he threatened about it happening again he was leaving back to Kansas. He threatened this every damn fight, it got to the point that I gave up, I said leave then. And instantly he shut up. I got him out of gangs, crime, jail, living on the street or with his mum, and being a maaajor drug addict. Yet I'M THE BAD PERSON.

Back to recently when my eb is getting closer to having her kid, I just go through finding out I'm not and my husband is freaking out at me, nonstop yelling at me that I'm not good enough and all this shit. Yes, lil ol me trying to keep the peace in the house is a cunt and a whore. Wow. Name calling, but hitting where it hurts? I told him before, how my mother in an argument said I would be a horrible mother. And that shit sticks. IT STICKS. So what does the smart ass pull out? He repeats it. He says he's glad I'm not pregnant because I'd be a horrible mother in the end.

That. That just kills a person. That kills dreams and the feeling of wanting to keep living. Who the FUCK says that to their partner? Am I wrong for thinking that's not right? Well my eb thought I was. I told her my feelings. How I don't want to be jealous of her, but I am. That she's more beautiful, she's always had guys hitting on her in school inviting her to do things and hang out, I was the nerd in whatever class that got invited only if it was mandatory. She will be having three kids and a loving husband that can never take his hands or eyes from her, where as I have to act like a clown to get my husband to look up from his damn phone. To say something nice. To

be acknowledged while in the house. I've left and came back the next morning because I hung out at my now besties house. He didn't say a word until I came home the next morning and he looked at me like "when the fuck did you leave" No care, no love. I was stuck being a burden. Anything I ever did around the house was in vain. Everything I helped with I got shoved away because I didn't do it right. EVERYTHING I did was not good enough. I would tell him this that is how I felt and he would deny it. One day, I caught him yelling at me saying that what I did wasn't ever good enough. Calle him out right away. Bitch... He tried to change the wording to go around what he said. I HEARD IT. it was so bad I had to have my bestie on the phone to listen to how he talked to me behind closed doors. Away from public view. HER MOM HEARD IT. Thought she was watching some kind of dramatic show, until she realized it was me on the phone. She's listened to so many calls its unheard of. There was a day, I had enough of it. (Ok A lot actually) but I grabbed my laptop and my charger and left the house. I sat in the park drawing on my laptop. Texted every person I could think of that I cared so deeply for that they would care for me back. I was in a dark ass place asking for Advice. My eb shrugged off what my husband was doing and scolded me for leaving. For sitting in a park drawing out my feelings instead of being with him because he's being dramatic to her husband upset that I started an argument. I didn't understand what I started when it was over me telling him not to throw the controller when he loses a COD game because that's how it breaks. Why he threw it? Because I distracted him by playing with my cat while he was playing the damn game and made him lose! yep. Exactly that. So I was yelled at to quit. So I did. I went back to my drawing and then with my headphones on I was humming to my music. It distracted him and he lost. So I flipped out because I can't do anything in my own house without being scolded for it. So I stormed off to the bedroom to draw some more. I'm upstairs and away from him. Didn't want to eat now I'm stressed and upset. So I didn't cook anything and now he's hungry and upset at me for not making food yet. YES. That's how it started and I again was the bad person in the story for safely removing myself from an environment where all my mind was telling me to do was dark things that hurt to say. To give up on everything I have worked for and all my dreams.

That was the last time I spoke to her for a while because everything started to be only about baby and about doing this for baby. Doing that for baby. But then she would never answer me back. I was done trying to fit time to hang out. To do something, I made new friends who didn't have kids and hung out more with them. It got horrible. the sound of a child crying made my stomach hurt. I had non stop dreams of the same thing happening. It was just awful. I looked it up and it was just meaning I had something and lost it. Whatever is missing in the dream what what I had lost.

In this dream I was dressed in all black, lace and long dress covering every inch of skin on my body. I had a hat with a veil and I was rocking a bundle in my arms in an old decrepit room with peeling paint and broken toys. It was a nursery. An old ruined nursery. I was rocking just a black blanket swaddled with a hole that emptied to the void. It gives me chills, I get this dream so much that me explaining just makes my skin crawl and my body ache. It hurts to think of but I just cannot understand it. Makes sense now that I looked into it.

But me going through all of this, I can't talk to my husband about my feelings because I'm too needy and being selfish for not taking his feelings into an account. That he's not ready that we are not ready and that I'm not ready because I'm going to be a horrible mom. Cool.

I have tried so much. I couldn't be around kids. It made me so sick and I jus would have to find somewhere to hide and cry for hours. I would cry myself to sleep. Never getting comfort by him because I'm throwing a pity party. I was so hurt. Still am. I'm broken hearted. Thinking that if I had a kid, at least I would have something that needed me and would love the care I gave and would love me back. I wanted to feel loved for how much I put out in the world. I wanted to have something to ground me to this world before I did something stupid. I was in such a dark place that I drove an hour to go see my bestie because I was scared that I was going to do it. That I was going to be the big disappointment he told me I would always be. Three months later, baby is here and I go back to playing dnd with my friends and its at their house. My husband is rubbing it in my face. He's holding baby and talking to baby and doing all these things making my mind break. He asks if I want to hold her. If i if iififififi NO.

I can't I cannot. I'm trying to be respectful. I missed out on other games because I had to hype myself up. I procrastinated because I didn't know how I would be or if I could handle it. I got to the point that my eb's husband told me that he doesn't want me playing anymore because I sent a text trying to apologize to my now eb that I feel so bad but I can't see her right now since seeing her kids just sends me into a panic attack and I can't stop thinking horrible things. So she takes that as I have a problem with HER kids and not just the KIDS situation. Doesn't hear me out. blames me for everything and has me banned from coming over. in which her husband says he doesn't want me over anymore. Which my rebuttal is because she's telling him only. But he said it was his choice. I don't know don't care. It just hurt that THATS the reason I got kicked out. Not because I was good, but that I couldn't handle their kids. And I would not pay attention by drawing the whole time. I was distracting myself because I'm trying to drown out the noises of cooing making my gut rot and my mouth dry. So by all means I'm selfish for wanting a dream that I was being promised for the last 6 years of physically being with my soon to be ex. I've know for actually 12 years. And that I drove 15 hours to bring you to me since you couldn't drive.

So I need to know from real parents, was I out of line for telling my eb that I had feelings and that them not being heard or just cast to the side hurt? Am I crazy for feeling that I've been robbed? For being upset when my husband comes home drunk and abuses me? For being hurt when I'm called all sorts of names and told I'm worthless by the man I should trust the most? Please. I need to know.

I know I'm ranting, but I need to get it out. I need to find some sort of something to figure out why I'm feeling this way, or why I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I'm fighting for the divorce since i haven't been to my owned house in the last 5 months since he changed the locks on me. I moved an hour away from my home and my family and still to this day, I hurt to hear or watch children around me. I'm happy, but inside something aches and just feels empty. Not to mention that I got told by people that know me that he's been caught buying condoms. We are still technically married, and he can't be doing those things right now. Am I jealous? Upset? Hurt? All of the above? It just sucks and I'm drowning in debt a bit trying to work my ass off to get where I want in life again since all of everything has been ripped from me. I'm trying. Please let me know if I'm crazy or out of line? I want to be heard. I'm going to start to save up. I have a plan for my 27th birthday. If it doesn't work in time for my 28th birthday, I'm not sure what else I can do but join the 27 club.

#send help #please reblog #mental health #parents #mother #father #moms #family #reblog #important #self care #self love #self help #self esteem #self healing #my story

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

#CM SPOILERS #If only I could write fic full time xD #GOD I've been dying to write all that down for weeks #and then you my beautiful anon sent that ask and I jumped at the opportunity #sorry I used you for this but I'm so glad I did #I hope you enjoy it if you don't mind all the spoilers #also if anything doesn't line up with canon I am SO SORRY I legit haven't finished season 11 #and I haven't met any of the new team. Not even Luke #But they would all be there #full cast. chaos. It would be awesome #katyswriting #criminal minds fanfiction #no pairings #Aaron Hotchner

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark

a/n: Having never done any ship writing before I’m just going to jump feet first into the deep end with a little Hotchreid for you today. It’s nice. No warnings except maybe some angst because we are who we are. Probably the softest thing you will see from me so enjoy the moment. Completely unnecessary disclaimer that I would find this relationship wildly inappropriate in real life but thank god we’re out here in the lawless fiction of the internet. And you’re getting full on song lyrics bc Hotchreid is nothing if not decadent af. There’s more but I’m impatient so here’s the first bit. ~ 2.7k

what the hell am I doing here in the golden dark? feeling like I’m someone else who looks the part I built up barricades to block my heart cause I don’t wanna fear you

He leaned back in his chair, reaching his arms up and clasping his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly. With his eyes closed it could be any time of day. He inhaled deeply and pretended for a moment that he was nowhere. He even gave himself a few extra seconds, indulging in the quiet that was the office at night. If only he could feel so peaceful in the right moments—before sleeping perhaps. When he opened his eyes all he could see was the reflection of his office light in the black windows. There hadn’t been daylight for hours. He’d switched off the overhead lights in favor of the small desk lamp that pooled the light only in the area of immediate relevance. Everything beyond its reach faded in and out of existence as his focus fell deeply into the forms in front of him.

He pressed his elbows back as far as they would go, pulling up slightly on the base of his skull, stretching out a day’s worth of stress, countless hours spent bent over report after report. He never could have imagined that saving people would require so much paperwork. Reducing the chaos of the lived experience, the searches and the takedowns, the intricate patterns of dozens of personalities layering choices upon one another; it turned out to be quite difficult to do. It took him hours to wrap up cases, even with everyone doing most of their own reports. Which, through no fault of their own, wasn’t always the case. He usually ended up siphoning off a fair number of those reports in addition to his own.

He didn’t mind, he needed to go over everything, needed to make sure that any possible negative feedback that came back would fall to him and he would be prepared if it did. His team were his responsibility, he would be neglecting his duties if he didn’t ensure that things were handled properly. None of them needed the headache of administrative errors. He was good with details, good with forms, good with protocol. He would happily be the filter that saved them all the trouble of little errors even if it hadn’t been part of his job.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was eleven o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone else had gone home hours ago. Only the late night janitorial staff wandered in and out occasionally, nodding at him in silent greeting as they reset the offices to give the illusion of an endlessly renewable supply of fresh starts. People that didn’t stay late never gave this transformation a second thought. They left the office with full trashcans and small debris scattered on the old carpets, only to return the next morning to find a place untouched by human presence, metal fixtures shining and glass doors free of oily fingerprints. That was just how the world worked for them, generous with new beginnings. People who lingered knew better, that effort was put into the effect. Beginnings were never easy, never flowed so inevitably as the set and rise of the sun.

Hotch had been working late for many years, long before he was even in the BAU. He had learned in law school how to brew the coffee strong enough to stay up all night if need be. How the indoor lighting changed without the support of daylight, tinting the world a thin sickly green color without the natural light to round out the fluorescence. He only got worse about it once he joined the Bureau, the stress of the job causing old habits and old secrets to float to the surface. He compensated by working the hardest, doing the most, never allowing anyone to see him need things that other people needed. He could handle this job, this was all he ever wanted after all. To save the world. Or maybe, more modestly, to save the world of a few.

Now, with Haley gone, Jack with her, somewhere well out of his disastrous reach, there was no reason at all not to fully give in. No reason not to let his insomnia at least be productive. To let the latent self destruction that fueled his actions at least have a positive impact on the people he cared about. He could do that at least.

He rubbed his face with his hands, he was getting loopy. There was no reason to be letting his mind wander so far, there were still reports he could get through. Perhaps, as unlikely as the idea felt, he could even get ahead. He looked back down at the paperwork, letting his feet settle flat on the floor. The letters swam in front of him and he sighed, rolling his pen beneath his thumb, considering. He could probably make it another hour. He could get another pot of coffee into himself. He cast about for his mug, finding it empty on the shelf behind him. He sometimes kept it there to prevent his reports from acquiring telltale dark rings. Rolling back from the desk, he hooked the handle with two fingers and headed out to the kitchenette.

Wrapped up in making plans for what he could finish tonight and what could be left for the morning he was startled to find a light still on in the bullpen. He was certain everyone had gone home long ago. They’d each passed by his office, offering him an out as they made their ways home—perhaps their exit could be the motivation he needed to break out of his office, to head towards his own home. What they didn’t realize was that home was not better for him. Work was far better, far safer, with tasks to complete, a purpose. If he was smart he would stay at work forever.

So he waved to them as they checked out, giving them small smiles that, though imperceptible to strangers, they recognized as both apologies and well-wishes. He knew they worried, that they didn’t like to see him tied to his desk late into the night. They thought it was one of his many methods for making himself suffer but he didn’t have the heart to tell them that this was him making a good decision, this was him trying his very best. In his experience, nothing good happened at home.

He thought he remembered everyone leaving, each goodbye. But every day was the same and they all bled together so he must have missed one because he cannot deny the light down below. As he walked down the stairs, confused by the discovery that he was not as alone as he had been imagining, his tired vision focused better. He could make out dark blond curls and a darker sweater hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Reid?” The name came out as a croak, he hadn’t spoken in hours and probably hadn’t had any water in that time period either. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder and closer to the other man than before. Reid’s head snapped up, expression as guilty as a child caught out of bed.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

Hotch frowned, not because he was upset but because he was still a little disoriented and his muscles fell back into the most familiar actions.

“I—“ Reid ducked his head and started pushing papers together on his desk, shoving them haphazardly into a file folder. “I was just…” he trailed off, not really having intended on explaining himself. He was simply also startled and reverting to the familiar.

Reid explained compulsively, able to handle the world when parsed down to facts and numbers. He didn’t have a fact for why he had stayed so late, only a feeling and that he didn’t know how to explain. Nights had been particularly lonely recently so he had allowed himself to stay later and later, getting lost in his thoughts at his work desk. Even without people around there was a sense of occupancy, their faint impressions lingering in the air. Plus there was always Hotch up in his office. He didn’t actively think about him or what he was doing but he liked knowing the man was nearby. Hotch’s solid presence always made him feel more secure, less concerned with whatever might jump out at him from the shadows overlapping the world and his mind.

He couldn’t tell Hotch that, was far too embarrassed to admit that sometimes, even with all the lights on, it was too dark in his apartment. No matter the illumination, he couldn’t quite dispel the unease of the night when he was alone. It wasn’t always like this, sometimes he had enough brightness to spare. Recently, however, things had been hard. So much had been going on, he couldn’t quite pinpoint why but he knew he felt uneasy. Too much had changed, there was too much risk that the floor could still fall out beneath him at any moment. And it hadn’t been so long since he’d escaped the consequences of his kidnapping, his addiction, that he trusted himself to be able to manage too much more uncertainty. Backsliding was always a risk and right now the world tilted at a frightening grade. So he let himself stay late in the safety of familiarity, sometimes working but more often not, idly rereading the books he had brought in and forgotten around the office. Tonight he had actually started to doze off, which contributed to his shock upon being discovered.

Hotch continued to frown at him, watching as the thoughts raced across Spencer’s face. He noticed how deep the shadows were beneath his eyes, the way darkness pooled in the space below his cheekbones, as if they were concave impressions filled by seawater. He knew Spencer didn’t eat enough, was all too familiar with the ways too much coffee and not enough calories pinched the skin and exposed the fine lines of capillaries beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” Spencer repeated.

He looked genuinely ashamed and it made Hotch a little sad. Couldn’t Spencer see that he was just as guilty of whatever it was he thought he was doing wrong by being here? He made a conscious effort to soften his expression, to show the warmth he felt for the younger man. After having spent his entire life masking his emotions, protecting himself one of the only ways he could, it wasn’t always easy to show his affection. Especially not at this time of night, when all he could do was cling to his walls and hope to find himself still on solid ground when the sun rose. Spencer wasn’t looking at him, too caught up in his own maze.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Hotch said, trying a different tactic. He was smart, he knew not to make it a demand or a comment on Spencer’s health. It was only an invitation, firm enough for Spencer to know he meant it, that it was not just a pleasantry or an obligation he’d rather avoid. A hand extended, an offer of easy company to pass through a little more of this unwanted time. Spencer looked up from where his fingers were worrying at the corner of the file in front of him and smiled shyly. Hotch smiled back, a real smile that scrunched up his dark shining eyes.

“Give me five minutes to close up,” he said and turned back toward his office. As he packed his briefcase, his heart felt like it had been wrapped in a soft blanket. He didn’t bother questioning it—who didn’t like finding someone to commiserate with when they’d only expected more of the lonely dark?

*

Their late night meals became a regular occurrence. Not every night but once, maybe twice a week, they found themselves the last ones in the office. They fell into a rhythm, each learning to read more from the other’s subtle cues. They almost always went to the same place, a 24-hour diner near the office with deceptively strong coffee and a seemingly endless variety of pancakes. Hotch rarely ordered food, though he encouraged Reid to get anything he wanted. He accepted bites of whatever the younger man ordered, happy enough to reciprocate the excitement over strawberry rhubarb or cinnamon blueberry pancakes.

They talked about inconsequential things, mostly Hotch listening as Reid spun out information on whatever topic was on his mind that day. Reid, for his part, made mental note of the things Hotch responded to and had opinions on. Spencer sought out more information in that vein to bring up. He loved to talk, sure, but what he loved more was to discuss. During the day there was rarely time to let his thoughts wander so freely. It was a dream to have someone there, following along and challenging him with questions, building up new conclusions.

On the nights that followed difficult days, when they were both too stubborn to order anything of substance, they drank their coffees and avoided looking at each other too directly. Those nights they were both tied up in their own thoughts, islands separated by more than just distance, but there was something undeniably pulling them together. It was probably just the natural consequence of having opposite dominant sides but they mirrored each other perfectly across the table. Once, they both happened to reach for their mugs at the same time and the backs of their hands brushed against each other. They each noticed but responded differently. Hotch repressed any reaction, pretending the quick touch of bony knuckles and cool skin hadn’t registered. Maybe it hadn’t. Reid, on the other hand, jumped as if shocked, sloshing the hot coffee into a puddle on the table. This only flustered him more and he yelped at the sting of the liquid and the sting of embarrassment. It wasn’t like they’d never touched before. But here, in this nowhere time they’d constructed, it felt different. In his mind that brief touch became nails dragging across his skin, impossible to ignore. But he pretended the mug was too hot and Hotch didn’t argue, quick to assist with napkins and sounds of agreement to accompany Spencer’s half-coherent excuses.

When their meals were done, mostly cleaned plates of syrup and crumbs stacked to one side, they hesitated before standing up. Hotch always offered to give Reid a ride home, Reid always declined, insisting he could get there himself. This led to Hotch giving him a doubtful look and insisting that it was no trouble. Reid, secretly wanting a ride the whole time, struggled to argue for his self-sufficiency a little longer before giving in. It became a silly thing, both of them knowing exactly how the argument ended but they held onto it for some reason. It was a part of their ritual now, an important piece of the night. It kept this, whatever this was, contained, strictly occasional, random even. Not something they planned for, not something they looked forward to.

Hotch waited for Spencer to get in the door of his building before driving away. He knew it wasn’t necessary, Spencer was a grown man and a trained FBI agent with a weapon. Still, it made him feel better to see him safely inside. Sometimes he thought he would feel even better if he could walk Spencer all the way to his front door. But he knew that would be asking too much. As it was, the nights when they shared this extra hour or two together, extended further by the drive home, had been giving him more than he could have imagined. He wouldn’t dare impose himself further. The brittle excuse of safety would crumble if he were to start following the other man inside. He was not ready to find out what that would mean. He smiled unconsciously as he drove to his apartment. For now, it was enough that he had found companionship on these late nights when he would otherwise be slowly, meticulously, working his way into the grave.

~Part 2~

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #beginnings

[alderaani]

hi, could you do 34 from the '50 ways to say i love you' with rex please? i love your writing with all my heart, have a nice day ❤️

Hello anon, thank you so much, I hope you are having the best day! This is a somewhat loose interpretation of your prompt, but I really hope you like it! It’s 1:30 on a work day where I am, so this is rough af and unbeta’d, but I had great fun writing it! 

“Mending an item of their clothing that was ripped” - from here

“Fives,” you hissed into your commlink. “What’s your status?”

The line crackled a little bit, like Fives had pulled his comm out of his sleeve. “This is Shriek-Hawk 1 to Squad Leader. Target is still in medical, I bribed Kix three bags of kavasa sweets to perform another concussion check.”

“Three? Fives, I told you I only have two!”

“Yeah, well, he told me to stick that up my shebs. I had to barter him down from five.”

You sighed and went to scrub a hand over your face before remembering the oil smeared across it. You were going to have to pull in a lot of favours to make this work. Like, so many. Maybe it was their upbringing on nutritional paste or just something inherent to Fett genes, but you hadn’t met a single trooper who didn’t have a raging sweet tooth. Trying to separate them from their contraband was about as easy as making a deal with a Sith.

“Hey don’t sweat it,” Echo said from the floor, tongue poking out just the tiniest bit as he fiddled with the inner wiring of the helmet wedged between his knees. “Risk still owes me big for that last mission on Cato Nemoidia. I can get us a bag for his royal highness and a bag to split, no problem.”

“Excellent, Shriek-Hawk 2. See? Nothin’ to worry about.”

Echo rolled his eyes. “Why do I gotta be Shriek-Hawk 2? I was decanted first.”

“Cause I’m takin’ point, di’kut. You nearly done over there? The Captain sounds like he’s gonna climb the walls.”

You scoffed at that. “That’s nothing new, he’s been halfway up ‘em for days.”

There had been an odd, hushed silence when Torrent had come back off the surface of Pijal, the weird kind that always meant someone important wasn’t coming back the same way they left. Your stomach had sunk when you’d seen a familiar blond head on a stretcher; Rex’s face had been pale, and he’d been so small and still. It had lasted for all of five minutes, of course. The second he’d woken up and gotten his bearings he’d been trying to persuade you to ‘break him out of the brig’. You’d threatened to sit on him. Gallingly, he’d been more upset about his ruined helmet than the fact that he’d nearly ruined his own head.

At first, you’d just been mad at him. But he’d looked so desperately disappointed when he’d seen the cracked and twisted remains of his old bucket, so lovingly modified, that despite your best efforts you’d been suckered. Again.

Gods, you were so pathetically gone on him. The biggest hit to your ego was that it was news to literally nobody except for General Skywalker, who wouldn’t have noticed a brick hitting him in the face unless it looked like Senator Amidala. It was one of the galaxy’s greatest mysteries, how he could be so damn good on a battlefield, but so damn oblivious. The only person more oblivious was the stupid object of your affections himself.

“Say, how did you even get these parts, anyway? I haven’t seen a Phase 1 bucket around here for months. Thought they’d all been recalled.”

You grunted, pushing up off the wall you’d been leaning on and dropping down next to Echo as he deftly screwed up the last wiring panel.

“The mechies are hoarders, trust me, you ever want a trip down memory lane you just go look in one of their footlockers.”

“You say that like you’re not one of ‘em.” Echo pointed out, putting down the screwdriver and flexing his fingers. He passed the helmet to you, finished now apart from the infamous visor that Rex had so painstakingly welded onto his last bucket himself. The new parts were all laid out carefully on your bench, freshly separated from the old Phase 1 shell and ready to go.

“Good job Shriek-Hawk 2,” you said, smoothing your hands admiringly over the sleek plastoid. Echo really did know his stuff. “And yeah, I’m just as bad. I actually had most of the parts already, was just the visor that was the problem. Did you know Rex is a bit of a celebrity these days? Makes these bad boys a bit of a commodity, Tirin bled me dry.”

Echo winced. “How bad?”

You sighed gustily and stood up to pop the bucket on the bench, connecting up your welding gear with a series of quick, familiar clicks. “Pretty awful. He cleared out my engine brew stash and I had to trade to nights for the next month.”

There was a sympathetic noise from over the comms. “Damn, you go to all this trouble to seduce the man and you won’t even get to reap the rewards.”

You made a mournful noise of agreement and flipped your face shield down, then paused just before you flicked the flame on.

“Hey Echo, you might wanna face the wall. The light can cause eye damage if you look it straight on.”

It was quick work to weld the old Phase 1 visor to the new helmet, the familiar form coming into being under your steady hands. All it was missing now was the paint, but you knew how important it was to the clones to do that bit themselves, and the whole of Torrent would want to touch up theirs together, to reassure themselves that Rex was really okay.

Just as you flicked the torch off, there was a crackle over the comm again and then Fives’ frantic voice.

“Shriek-Hawk 1 to Squad leader. The Starbird is landing, I repeat, the Starbird is –”

Fives let out a squeak, your only warning before Rex’s rumbling voice was turning you into jelly.

“- the kriff are you talking about, Fives?”

You grinned, putting the torch down and inspecting your handiwork. It was some of your best, if you did say so yourself, and in a mechanic’s language, it was practically a love letter. The seams were so neat you might as well have carved I am burning hot for you directly into the plastoid.

“Hey Captain! Come to the storage cupboard on the third floor. Me’n Echo have got a surprise for you.”

There was an uncertain pause before Rex said your name.

You rolled your eyes, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “Who else? Just come on. It’ll be good, promise.”

“Trust me Captain, you don’t wanna miss this one.”

There was another pause, before Rex said, wryly. “Your endorsement doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence, Fives. But sure, I’ll bite, stay there.”

You looked at Echo, matching his blinding grin with one of your own. The look on his face was going to be beautiful. You both paced the small space together impatiently, tossing tools and little twists of metal into your open bag as you waited for Rex to arrive.

Finally there were voices outside, one eager, one bewildered. The storage cupboard door hissed open, and there Rex was, tall and whole and armoured and beautiful.

“Hey Rex, think fast!” You chucked the helmet at him, ignoring Echo’s shriek of distress.

Rex fumbled, caught it, then stared down at the new helmet in his hands. Over his shoulder, Fives beamed at you. The look of slow joy breaking over Rex’s face like a sunrise made all the bartering worth it.

“You okay, Captain?”

For the first time (but definitely not the last), you’d made him speechless.

#captain rex x reader #captain rex #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #the clone wars #star wars #alderwrites

[the-fiction-witch]

Below

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER  COUPLE NEWT X READER  RATING SWEET AF

I ran as fast as my little feet would carry me, hurrying my feet through the circular tunnels I did my best to stay as quiet as I possibly could hearing the little sounds of the water dripping down from cracks in the stone above me. The stone still here but much of it dirty and broken, the mortar between each black with mold and age, the walls standing with only the frames of advertisement the posters within them rotted to nothing. I froze as I heard steps thought the tunnels.

I grabbed my knife holding it close to me turning my lamp down as low as It would go I staied low and quiet listening only to the sounds of my breath. 

"What are you doin' down here Love?" His voice spoke in the darkness 

"Who are you? What do you want?" I whispered before a bright white light shined across the tunnel making me cover my eyes 

"Love. It's me" he sighed I looked up and saw the familiar sight Newt. Stood at the end of the tunnel with his white light torch, his boots against the stone, his tattered old cargo pants loose from him held up with half broken and half repaired suspenders over his shoulders and the belt that held his knife. His old torn red vest tight to his skinny skin his arms thick with mud and blood, tires covering him in odd places, his helmet sat on his head 

"What are you doing down here?"

"Looking' for you, the damn hell you think I'm doin' down here having a tea party?" 

"You didn't need to come looking for me" I sighed getting up putting my knife away and walking towards him 

"Yes I did." He sighed grabbing something out his back pocket and throwing it to me, I caught it and had a look it was my map "you always leave without it. One of these days-"

"What? You think I'll get lost?" 

".... Just. Don't forget it Love" he sighed turning to head back out the tunnel 

"What makes you think I'm so incapable of looking after myself?" I complained hurrying after him 

"The fact you went tunnel claimin' with no map, no food, no water, no walkie usin' only the lantern. Makes me think you can't take care if yourself" 

"I was fine"

"You wouldn't have been. I hadn't found you" 

"I don't need you to protect me."

"You don't. But you still need my help" he said "come on I'll take you back"

"I know the way back" I pouted hitching my thighs and heading down the left passage

"And I see you wanna drown?" He laughs

"What?"

"Your headin' down, that's been flooded two years now. I'll lead then." He rolled his eyes heading down the right passge 

"I knew that" I groaned following him though the passages the rounded tunnels and stairwells before getting to a long since abandoned place it had been left to rot even before all this happened or so I had heard. Newt jumped down first and offered his hands but I jumped down myself 

"Only tryin' to help," he says as we walked between the large metal down into the darkness he clicked on his white light making me hiss a little "you really hate it don't you?"

"It stings that's all" I said 

"It will. You're a below baby." He laughs 

"A old one"

"Well old is irrelevant, you're still born below. You've never seen light up there… real light. Only ever known the darkness down here" he said as we arrived at the little train he unlocked the door and climbed inside helping me up with him into the hoard of junk he called a home. Little things where everywhere, his bed unmade, a lantern on in the window, some food in odd places half eaten, his clothes scattered about a line across a section with laundry hanging "when did you last eat somethin'" he asks 

"I'm not hungry"

"I didn't ask that" 

"Two days"

"Here" he sighed fixing me some porridge handing me the bowl and a spoon, I rolled my eyes taking it having a seat on the old train seats he had for a bed moving his blankets away as he stood fixing himself a coffee I began to tuck in forcing the tasteless food down "Y/n?"

"What Newt?' I sighed knowing I was getting a talking too he only calls me that when he does he was silent a moment holding his cup in his hands pondering something in his head before putting the coffee down slipping his helmet off letting loose his blonde locks 

"You heard about angel?"

"The place or the person"

"Person" he says sipping his coffee 

"Yeah, I heard"

"That's the forth one now"

"I know, second generation of below"

"I suddenly feel really old"

"You are old, so am I"

"You're not as old as you think you are. Your first gen below Love. Your still young"��

"Last of the above born" 

"Don't call me that"

"You are. I hate admitted what I am but you remind me. Sometimes I have to remind you too" 

"I know." He said a small smile cracking his lip 

"You ever gonna? You know?"

"Why bother. More important things to do" he said "and… down here doesn't need another mouth to feed. We got enough problems feeding ourselves" 

"True. But still"

"No. Bigger problems"

"Never?"

"Never."

"How old are you now?"

"Old enough to know better."

"Fine. Be like that" I sighed handing back the now empty bowl and spoon "why did you come find me?"

"You left your map and I knew you'd took your-"

"Newt. Why did you come find me?"

"... I missed you" he says rubbing his arm "I'm allowed to get worried about you alright?" He says "and I do. Worry about you I mean when you go off on your own"

"I can handle myself"

"I know you can. But if somethin' happened. I'd rather be with you" 

"Fine. Sorry Newt"

"For what?"

"Worrying you"

"You always worry me Y/n" he smiled to me "could you… tonight?" He asked carefully 

I nodded patting the space beside me he nodded and went across to behind his hanging clothes I got up going to the side getting some clean water warming it enough to make sure it was clean but letting it cool enough it wouldn't burn to the touch he returned sitting on the bed shirtless his suspenders gone too I clean my hands before I took the bowl going to sit beside him getting my little cloth I pushed back some of his blonde locks until I found the heavy still red scar, his stitches still there where they would never truly heal it was a large gash that almost split his head it hurt him daily and had to be cleaned to prevent infection even if parts had been removed before from rot and infection I carefully cleaned it doing my best not to hurt him even if he would often squeeze on my other wrist when I pressed to hard or whenever he felt a strong pain I did my best making sure it was alright before fixing his hair back so it became unnoticeable, I pressed a little kiss to his hair where the scar laid before getting up to put the water back 

"Thanks Love"

"Your welcome. I need to go anyway long walk home" I said 

"I know" he nodded fixing his hair a little to hide his scar better he stood and I went to the door he loomed over me a moment 

"Yes?"

"Did you want me to walk you home?" He asks putting a hand on his helmet

"No. You stay here I'll see you around Newt" I told him he nods so I climbed down out the old train giving him a wave as I headed down the old tracks.

I followed the old tracks as far as they would go passing places once known as platforms and stations all of them build up inhabited by those of us who live below I walked until the last platform climbing up and going through the tunnels up to that various lines and stations few still remained on the boards the bulbs behind them long burnt out, I saw the remains of lines of red and blue worlds like Covent, holburn, leister still remained but little else. I hurried thought the long corridors these still had light the bulbs connected by wires people had built in to light the ways even if they flickered and fluctuated often. The long circular corridors and steps seemed endless until I arrived home it was busy as it always way people having built there homes into what little space they could lines of washing went from wall to wall people busy with the work of trying to survive. I headed to the back to my little house formed into what was once at a time a shop but for what I didn't know. I threw my things to the side and washed up a little from the walk before going out to see people who had gathered as they did most nights the ones younger then me all sat listening to him 

"It was a fair time of yes it was. The sky was blue and bright and the shon down on all things. Until the day… the signal came" 

I wanted to ignore it I had heard it a thousand times before but still I listened and imagined what it must have been like on that day 

'everyone did as always they worked, and shopped, and exploded the world was pleasent, accepting and sweet. That morning at a quarter to ten then clocks l stopped, the chimes from the great bell could be heard ringing across the city, every bell began ringing with it and the signal came from leaders that we should go down to stay safe, people packed there things and went down as instructed into the underground. People staied in there bunkers for a time waiting but as people grew and needed more space and food people spread far and wide making there homes to sit and wait until the signal comes again and we can all go back up there' he explained 

I hurried into my house shutting it up I did want to listen anymore. Most of those who where born above, they barely remember the world up there. Not that it mattered to me. 

I had never been up there I had lived my life down here never known the world above, I was as they often called a dark child. I was made and born in the darkness raised always below having never once been above. I was one of the first most children before me didn't survive, and even now angel a freind of mine from the east she was a born below too and now she had her own child a second generation to never see above, those who where born above always look down on us even if few of them remember much of above itself all being too young to remember much and honestly there was few of them left after the incident, but still they looked down on anyone born below, and those who lived above who worked and had children above where on pedestals even if many didn't understand where they where or who they even where anymore but people looked up to them, to those who knew above the best. I laughed at the thought a little of Newt, he was a child of above old enough to remember it but young enough not to have been held in any regard then again not that he would want it anyway, it always made me laugh to remember how much older then me he was. Newt was nine years my senior I believe it might be more but he didn't like talking much about before we all moved down here even less so since the incident.

[misstvirus]

** RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE SPOILERS **

I decided to put this on tumblr so I could hide spoilers from Twitter and full explain why I gave Resident Evil 8 the score 5/10

These are my opinions and my personal review of Resident Evil Village. Everyone is entitled to their opinions and I am in no way saying that anyone’s experiences or enjoyment of the game are invalid.

Please excuse me - I had a hard time trying to put my thoughts in order. This is a game summary and commentary after the first few paragraphs.

I first discuss the graphics, music, etc but it turns into me basically explaining the plot so I could express my dismay at the end. Skip to the last few paragraphs to read my mental nerdy breakdown.

The gameplay, graphics and mechanics are perfect. Each installment since of series since Resident Evil 7 - has improved. The game mechanics while in combat such as switching weapons, healing and guarding are smooth, it’s damn near perfect. The Duke brought a lot of nostalgia and memories of Resident Evil 4’s Merchant. I enjoyed being able to interact to upgrade weapons, buy supplies and sell treasures. The games over all aesthetic, atmosphere and attention to detail. Each location was beautiful and you can see the love, sweat and dedication put into the game. The music is there, it is eerie at times but it’s not as memorable as other installments of the game. Resident Evil 7 had its featured title song, “Go Tell Aunt Rhody” - Resident Evil Village’s “Yearning for Dark Shadows” was not as heavily featured and did not get the hype like it’s predecessor.

Resident Evil Village had a good story (please note this is my thought strictly AS A REVITALIZED RE GAME BEFORE THE CHRIS REDFIELD SEGMENT). The story starts by continuing with Ethan and Mia Winters after the events of Resident Evil 7. I knew Capcom moved in a different direction and accepted that as long time RE Junkie that although it’s from the same universe - they would not be the same type of games. Chris Redfield’s end game appearance in RE7 and a few Easter eggs were the only MAIN (not DLC content) links to the previous RE installments. The new set of villains and interesting tie-ins to village folklore story was a great way to foreshadow the events to come. The village and story behind Mother Miranda and her reasoning for creating the big baddies because wanting to bring back her dead child were good and had this been a stand alone or continuation WITHOUT TYING THE GAME INTO THE RE UNIVERSE I would have liked it fully.

The game starts with Ethan and Mia Winters, a new baby, Rose and are Having marital issues not dealing with Louisiana/RE7 events and Chris Redfield shows up and kills “Mia”. Chris’s team takes the baby and Ethan and knocks him out. When Ethan wakes up in wreckage of a van, without his baby and dead drivers. As Ethan wanders into the woods and makes his way to the village. He discovers something is killing the people and meets up with a group of people who worship Mother Miranda and quickly die by monsters. These monsters are called “lycans” who are products/monsters of the Cadou mold similar/same thing in RE7. Ethan finds himself apart of weird meeting of all five villains - who stole baby Rose and want do some weird shit.

Tada! Ethan has escaped and ends up in Lady Alcina Dimitrescu or “Tall Lady” “Vampire Mommy” castle. You are confronted by her and her three daughters Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

Let me step in to rustle the jimmies and ruffle the feathers of the Lady D hype group. What you see in the previews is what you get. No more, no less! There is nothing special and there are no redeeming qualities or mentions past notes in game files of Lady D outside your castle encounter. The story isn’t based around her, she’s just a tiny part in a larger story plot 1 of 5 villains/baddies. The daughters are overly sexual and have the most cringe worthy dialog. I love me some sexy characters and villains but the daughters were just so cringe. They could’ve AMPED up the horror with them and created a stronger scare factor but dropped the fucking ball. They were not creepy or scary and brought nothing to the story with delivering lines about wanting to “consume Ethan’s manflesh” “not stale as mother said - tastes so good.” Also to be noted they were not actually vampires but bioweapons. Lady D being a good result to the mold “Cadou” and the daughters the result of the Cadou and mixing of insects. You kill the daughters, get chased by Lady D who eventually mutates into a flying tentacle bat-dragon and it’s done, she gone. Sorry to fuckboys who thought she was bigger player.

After Ethan beats Lady D, he grabs a yellow flask that’s apparently filled with the juice and parts of baby Rose - and each of villains has one of these baby-juice boxes. Ethan will have to collect them all to be able to put Rose back together.

Next visit is House Beneviento. This was the scariest of all five villains and village locations in my review of the game. It reminded me of a Silent Hill installment less a Resident Evil installment - the use of light, sound and overall paranormal factor did bring in a successful horrifying portion of the game . The mutated baby chase was comical yet creepy. You have to hide to escape it and you ended up playing hide and seek with possessed dolls. The entirety of House Beneviento will definitely give you an uneasy feeling. Donna, the woman controlling a doll named Angie is another baddie who you later learn is mentally unstable and uses her abilities to manipulate plants - to cause hallucinations to create the creepy doll house scenario. (Oof it’s hard for me to stay on track). Part 2 of 4 of Baby Rose - which yes it what your game objective says.

Next Moreau, a mutated fish man - gives Ethan the Resident Evil 4 and Resident Evil 5 game play feel - having to complete actions while some oversized bioweapon is looming around and can take you out with a misstep, like falling in the water or moving too slowly. Moreau did not gain any abilities with the Cadou mold, basically his body wasn’t compatible and he just mutates uncontrollably. Mentally slow, weak and kind of a sad story. Ethan runs into Chris Redfield who tells him to stay out of it and than runs away. Ethans fights Moreau and gets another baby juice jar.

Next Ethan faces off and explores a laboratory with Karl Heisenberg - a bioweapon who can manipulate metal (think a less cool and weakly motivated Magneto). He one of the last big baddies - and motivated by being essentially rejected by Mother Miranda. He is the most stable reaction to the Cadou mold. Before Ethan and Heisenberg face off - Chris Redfield comes in - to reveal he was not the bad guy Ethan thought in the beginning of the game. Mia wasn’t Mia but in fact Mother Miranda in disguise- who was attempting to steal the baby Rose which she ended up doing anyway because Chris’s team wrecked with the baby. At this point I’m say FINE WHATEVER, I guess this works

Chris goes into kill Mother Miranda, we the audience discover the BSAA is now not what is used to be. Chris isn’t affiliating with them and his team hides away from them as they attack. BSAA gets struck down attempting to kill Mother Miranda’s mutation - a megacyte squishy organ (that’s keeping her alive and immortal). Chris puts a massive bomb on big Miranda squishy thing and discovers that Lady Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Moreau and Donna Beneviento are all attempts to create a perfect vessel to bring back her own dead child Eva, who died in 1912 of the Spanish flu. It is revealed Eveline, the RE7 little girl mold baddie wasn’t another failed attempt. Miranda has turned baby Rose into baby juice to use with the Cadou mold in a ceremony to bring her dead child back.

AND drum roll please - we find out Ozwell Spencer, founder of Umbrella and the progenitor virus the big Daddy of it all was in cahoots with Miranda at some point in his youth and supported her crazy ass research but had his own stuff going on. WHY?! WHO KNOWS? NOT ME! WHY WAS THIS PUT IN THE GAME. To piss me off? Yes. Chris has also discovered Mia is still alive in jail cell for what reason? who knows? And Mia reveals that Ethan is special!

Cue black screen, Ethan awakes to see to Eveline - the mold baddie from RE7. Eveline explains - that Ethan has been dead and died back during the events of RE7. Jack Baker had killed him and dragged him into the house. So he was dead the entirety of RE7 - That explains why Ethan is constantly dismembered, beaten and walking the mold keeps him alive. Ethan will not survive much longer because his missing heart but is determined to bring back his baby. Weakly he carries himself to fight Mother Miranda with Chris. Mother Miranda performs her ceremony with the baby juice boxes and out comes not Eva (her baby) but Ethan’s baby Rose.

They fight and Ethan kills Miranda, carrying Rose off to Chris but that missing heart is the end of Ethan so he takes the trigger for the squishy bomb and pushes Chris away and sacrifices himself for his daughter. Chris boards a helicopter with Mia and baby and the body of a BSAA solider. Ethan blows himself and the Miranda squishy up. The BSAA soldier turns out to be a bioweapon and Mia is distraught at Ethan being for reals dead and Chris is annoyed and directs the pilot for BSAA Europe HQ. Credits Roll, now we see Adult Rose (baby juice reborn as mold human) visiting her Dads grave it’s apparent Chris has been training her and her bodyguard (?) pulls up and they argue and she goes all combative on him. It’s implied she’s not normal since she was DUH she was turned into baby juice and put back together with Cadou mold they drive off - apparently you can see a ghostly Ethan in photo mode - I don’t know I don’t give AF enough about The Winters family and this game at this point

The End

5/10 - Story (read below)

9/10 - Everything else

- Katie’s Dismay and Final Review and Rating-

Graphics: 9/10

Setting: 8/10

Music: 6/10

Game Mechanics: 10/10

Story: (pre Chris Redfield tie in): 7/10

Story: (post Chris Redfield) 4/10

As a modern game, it was great, exceptional. It checks all the classic horror boxes but isn’t the scariest entry, Resident Evil 7 was a much more scary game. The story is why my rating is slow and it’s based on my biases and years of following the story.

STOP! Don’t want to hear my angry ranting? SKIP THE REST

THE ANGER OF a grown ass Resident Evil Fan.

They should’ve omitted the entire BSAA story and BSAA bioweapon-man and not included those notes about Spencer and Umbrella. This game was solid as a next installment and sequel to Resident Evil 7 until they decided they wanted to tie the original Resident Evil storylines into the new story.

When Capcom decided to breakdown and rebuild the franchise, it was a blow because so many storylines were unfinished. I understand they needed to keep evolving and I was blown away by the result. RE7 was not and did not feel like an old RE Game but it was new and it brought back the horror and fear the RE Games early installments were known for. A new RE for a new generation!

But TO ME PERSONALLY - The positive thoughts and opinions I had of RE7 are sullied by Resident Evil Village. Why try to tie it in as an after thought after such a successful overhaul? It’s a slap in the face! Capcom has created some of the best characters in video game stories just to say fuck them for this overhaul but WAIT WE REALLY LIKE CHRIS AND THE BSAA STORY LINE LET’S BRING IN THE OLD STORY NOW.

Fucking NO.

I don’t know what’s worse reading that fucking note from Spencer or the BSAA bullshit.

So now one has to say... WHAT happened to all of the characters who worked for BSAA or worked with affiliates of the BSAA? Chris goes on his own way - Now what? What happened??? There’s nothing explaining what happened between RE5 and RE6 to RE7! They failed to create that bridge. If they had established ANYTHING in RE7 it would be easier for me to swallow.

If you want to overhaul and change the series FINE but don’t back peddle now. Don’t try to throw it the last few minutes of the game with some lazy writing and a vague cliff hanger just leaving it like this.

And of course one could think - “maybe they will make a new game, maybe another sequel?”..... BUT HAVE Y’ALL seen what’s happened at the end of every RE game since RE4???? We are finally getting a Netflix series in 2021 to fill the time after RE4!!! That was 16 YEARS ago! So how can crazy ass fans like myself really expect them to fix the plot holes?!

My theory is that - in between RE7 and RE village They were working on the RE2 Remake and the RE3 Remake and it was if someone at Capcom finally asked - “If all these new RE players are going to play RE village - don’t we need a way to connect these stories????”

And someone jumped up in a conference room and replied. “FUCK IT LETS JUST TIE IN SPENCER AND THE BSAA IN THE LAST 10 MINUTES!”

I have cried, laughed and loved these games my entire life. Some of my major life events happened because of this series! I have followed every game, collected merchandise, gotten tattoos and met the most amazing people because our mural obsession over this series. That’s why it hurts me that’s why I’m tear it apart so viciously and also why I keep playing. There’s always hope that someone will fix the plot holes and finish the stories that lured in the older RE fans and I will always hold Capcom to a high standard and expect them to do right by the fans. I’m not speaking for ALL older RE Fans or ALL fans and I’m definitely not gatekeeping the fandom. This is how I feel - I’m grateful there is a new generation breathing life into RE but I’m screaming a warning - BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUPS - there’s a strong chance your favorite characters new or old aren’t going to get an ending or be reduced to a brief snippet in a file you may not not find.

ANYWAYS

Happy to those who loved it, condolences to those who are pissed off like myself

I’m annoyed but I’ll power through!

Happy 25th Anniversary to my longest obsession!

RE Verse coming in the summer, the Netflix series and the remake Live Action Movies.

HERE’S TO RESIDENT EVIL!

#resident evil #biohazard #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #my opinion #video game #capcom #spoilers #resident evil spoilers

[vyglitchcraft]

The Hacker X Cavalier Gantz- Neon Spray Paint

Authors note: Erron/The Hacker is by @horrorslashergirl and Gantz is mine also i am not good at writing anything and i absolutely feel bad writing this, this is going to be awkward af

Song Inspiration: New Girl by FINNEAS

Warning: Smut, brief mentions of snuff filming and blood, dub-con, virginity lost/first time, daddy kink

Word Count: 2.2k

“Are you always this prone to bad luck and violence? If so, that’s kind of sad." that's a quote that's stuck in The Graffiti Assassin's head of course that's because if they weren't so violent and unlucky this wouldn't happen.

They looked out the car window as raindrops falls on to the glass calming them down "fuckin' hell it's pretty cold ain't it? I'm surprised that you can keep warm with that hoodie of yours" Gantz crossed their legs and leaned back in the chair, softly sighing.

They met some time ago, Gantz was just finished killing a target but unfortunately they weren't really in a good mood that night. The target had escaped enough time to piss them off which they took out by shredding the target to pieces and unfortunately The Hacker was walking nearby and saw them, Gantz facepalmed themselves at that mistake till this day.

"we're here, let's go" they sighed and opened the door.

It was still raining but the air was nice enough that the can tolerate for a while "Cav stop spacing out, follow me" they nodded and followed Erron

"Yo where are we?" they looked around the building, it was unfamiliar and large. They entered using the emergency stairways and climbed up, reaching the destined floor.

It was easy to realize that this was a hotel but it makes sense that he would do this, wanting to be untraceable and all that. "Do you like it? Paid good money for this" he opened the door to their room and stepped in. The door automatically locked behind them and the room was dark, only letting the light of the streets below to pour in.

"not into the expensive shit but i can deal with it" they sighed, cracking their neck before walking down with him.

"really only one bed? I guess you knew i ain't stayin' here long ay?" Gantz chuckled as they walked to the fridge rummaging for drinks.

The Hacker placed his bag on the desk in the corner of the room, grabbing his phone and scrolling through it before stopping at a message they both had

CG: yo uh Erron i need help with something, can you track down this person for me?

Cyber: what do i get in return?

CG: like i know, we'll discuss it later and I'll think about

Cyber: you better not be late or you're going to get something you won't like

GC: don't worry, I'll get it on time promise, heck I'll share my prize with ya

GC Last seen 03:25 at XX-XX-XXXX

He showed the message to Gantz which they promptly went wide eyed "you forgot didn't you?" a loud "tss" sound came from their mouth, they reached to their pockets and pulled out a stack of money, they counted it before handing it to him "five grand...Is that enough?" the Hacker chuckled behind his mask "sorry doll face but the price got raised for keeping me waiting"

They looked around the room, tongue clicking with nervousness and annoyance "whaddya want me to do? Give ya another grand? Kidnap a girl for you maybe?" he hummed amusingly. Stepping closer to them to place the money on the desk "oh I've got something else in mind baby, and it's not what you think it is" they ran back to the door trying to escape but ending up getting caught by him pulling them by the back of the collar.

"now walk to the bed slowly or I'll make it worse" he kept his hands on their shoulders, forcing them to follow his orders. "you better have those cameras off or I'll gut you like a fish"

"oh don't worry darling, cameras all off, just me and you" he tilted his mask to the side to show a small LED that's turned off, obviously connected to the micro cameras he had imbedded in his purge mask.

"now come here and sit on daddy's lap" he said seductively, they clicked their tongue and followed his order. "this is humiliating" they closed their eyes, refusing to see their reflection.

"Gantz, look at the mirror, this is a punishment afterall" one of his hand traced their hips, moving up to their coat and zipping it off. His hand moved under the shirt they had left and took off the bandages they had on to flatten their chest, he grabbed one of their breasts, rolling the end between his finger tips "guess the rumors are right, you are a new girl, you even got these babies right here, fuck pierced too, tell me how big are they?" under the mask Gantz was more than flustered, they bit their lips as to not let any noise escape "D....They're Ds, i had to wear those so they don't get in the way" they say through gritted teeth, their hands squeezed the bedsheets like a life line.

He took off their top wear, lifting their arms and ripping it off leaving them topless. Their body was lean yet muscular they were covered with bruises and wounds, some old and some new. Their arms were full of tattoos, covering from shoulders to wrists. "what's wrong baby girl? Why are you trying to hide this from me? Are you embarrassed that everyday you get reminded of all the pain you felt? Don't worry, i love it" he palmed their breasts, the other hand tracing the bruises on their waist.

"i just wanna scratch your surface, i wanna feel your all you're grooves, i can be your needle, I'll lick your wounds too, you can be my new girl, just wanna play with you" his voice smooth like silk, they shiver at the feeling, they weren't denying, his voice was soothing and worst of all they needed him inside them.

His hands traced the hemline of their pants before pushing it down to the floor with a thud "naughty girl, you're so fucking wet just from me groping you, do you want me that badly? Guess you paid me late just for me to punish you huh?" the tone he said that in was mocking, laced with venom that stung Gantz's ears "f-fuck you, I'll kill you later" they whispered their eyes shut closed.

He laughed at their anger, resting his head on their shoulder "oh i know you won't, if you kill me, you'll miss me" he pushed inside to of his fingers, moving with a torturously slow pace while his thumb circled around their clit. "Gantz, remember look at the mirror and don't cum until i said so"

They opened their eyes, staring at themselves in the reflection, they couldn't recognize themselves at all. "JUST FUCK ME YA POSH IDIOT! JUST DO IT please"

He wiped their tears that started to pour "shh no need to yell, that wouldn't be fun wouldn't it? I'll give you prize if you be a good girl, sounds good?" they nodded as they climbed off his lap.

They sat between his legs. With a bit of hesitation they unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. They tilted their mask above their head, enough to block their face from Erron's angle but enough to have access to their mouth. They licked their lips, jacking the cock in their hands and spreading the beading precum that's beading out of the tip. They wrapped their tongue around the base, licking up to the tip where they slowly try to fit all of him inside their throat. The feeling of cold metal against their tounge piercings was driving both of them mad. They jacked their head up and down his length, tracing a zig-zag pattern on the base.

"fuck, you're good, i was right when choosing you, you better take all of me baby girl" he tangled his fingers between their hair, pushing them down onto his shaft. In instinct they covered their mouth with their hand and swallowed. They positioned their mask back like it used to, covering the bottom half of their face.

"i guess i should keep my promise, you've been really good, you didn't even touch yourself, nice" he patted their head, untangling their hair and patting down.

He grabbed their hips, resting them on his lap. They wrapped their arms and rested them on his shoulders "i still hate you, you know? I ain't gonna forget about this just because you touched me good, you'll need to work harder to make me like you" they traced the middle of his mask, tracing their finger down his nose and lips while he grabbed their thighs, slowly grinding them on him.

Erron rested them on the bed, placing himself between their legs. "please go slowly, it's my first time" their voice barely a whisper. He cupped their mask tilting their head to look at him "don't worry darling, daddy's gonna be gentle with you"

Erron rubbed the tip to their opening, slowly inserting himself about halfway through. Gantz winces in pain while trying to get used to his size "are you alright? I'll start to move" they nodded.

He moved in a slow pace at first "you're doing good, fuck you're tight, you're practically sucking me in"

Of course with The Hacker nothing can be wholesome, not even for a while "I'm going to BREAK YOU" Gantz's eyes went wide as Erron sped up his pace making rougher.

"NO NO WAIT DON'T!" they tried to stop him but can't. He holds their hips with a tight grip surely leaving bruises the next morning.

Their breaths were heavy as the pain started to turn into pleasure. One of his hands cupped their one of their breasts while he moved his mask away from his mouth to suck and lick on the other, swirling around the sensitive bud.

With a scrape of the teeth, Gantz's back arched with a sharp inhale. They wrapped their legs around him as he pounded their pussy into an overstimulated mess. They circled their clit with their pointer finger trying to reach their orgasm.

As Erron noticed, he grabbed their wrists "i said no cumming until i say so" holding both of their wrists together in one hand he raised it up above their head but by accident it had hit one of the filter of their mask, taking it off of them.

As soon as they noticed they hid their face behind their hands "NO, don't look at me! Let me put it back on please!"

Displeased, Erron grabbed their wrists harder, successfully putting them above their head. Their face was as clear as day, with the lights from outside making them seem to glow. He moved their bangs that covered their eye now being able to see their dual colored eye but that doesn't seem to be the thing that saddened them, in the left corner of their mouth was a small scar and bruise and a larger scar coming from the bottom right of their cheek and almost reaching the corner of theri left eye and over their nose. They looked tired, black circle around their eyes, seemingly busted lips, bruises on one eye and lips.

"What's wrong? Afraid i won't like you cuz of your face? Well it fits you doll face" they looked shocked, they tried to look for a hint of sarcasm in his eyes but couldn't "it's not about that, it's to hide my identity and shit, and ya got cameras on ya that can give ya evidence, and i don't know what you'll do with that info!"

"Stop lying baby girl, it's obvious you're trying to hide it from me, though you are smart about not trusting me but believe me when i say i have them off" he smirked, planting a kiss on their lips before moving down to their neck.

He started to gain pace, as rough as the last one but now the pain was gone. They closed their eyes and letting quiet moans spilling out from their lips.

Sloppy sounds of skin hitting eachother filled the room. A concoction of cuss words can be heard from one another.

Erron's rhythm started to get uneven, his grip on them was tightening. "i-oh god, fuck I'm gonna cum!" they said between sets of moans and heavy breathing. "shit, go ahead cum for daddy" he bit down ons their shoulders and sheathing himself to the hilt.

Seconds had passed before he pulled out, letting the cum and blood spill out from them.

"i guess i can tolerate you for a bit longer" their voice was slurred, they closed their eyes, letting their tiredness to knock them out.

"sleep tight princess" he nuzzles their face and slowly resting them right on the bed.

The next morning their body was aching, they grabbed their phone on the night stand besides them "huh? Wait a sec I'M GOING TO BE LATE!" they threw off their blanket, trying to stand up before being stopped by Erron.

"Don't worry, payed your boss. I said i needed you to help me film a girl getting gutted but it was just so you can stay with me this weekend" Erron was leaning on the desk, fully clothes and ready for the day. "Yo if my capo founds out he's gonna kill you" he patted their head to calm them down.

"Don't worry he's not going too, now what do you want for breakfast?" he grabbed the room service menu and handed it to them, they looked at him with suspicion even tilting their head "why are you even doing this? You usually just left the girls you fuck so what's the difference?"

"Cuz you're mine, and no one can take you from me"

#oc #originalcharacter #Not my oc #OCxOC #My writing #Cavalier Gantz

[friiday-thirteenth]

right right right c a m p

ok. ok so it was very long and I'm unbelievably tired but also my head says write it down so uh

day one- five hour bus ride. it was fun, bc the person I was sitting beside slept the whole time and I got to joke around with the guys, who were surprisingly chill. they only brought up p*rn once, which is like.... good for them all things considered lmao

then we had the tramp in. the campsite where we were staying at the first night was the farthest from base, and one group biked in while the other tramped.

my groups tramp took s i x h o u r s. no other groups went over five. we had to keep stopping bc a) one kid was feeling sick, b) one kid rolled her ankle and c) we weren't allowed to sprint off into the Bush and potentially die without an instructor with us.

so there were like, four of us who were constantly at the front, and they were: me, my crush, my crushes best friend, bitch-who-bullied-me.

twas interesting.

we got the campsite in the dark, after a river crossing in which my socks got soaked, as did my shoes, and the tents and food were already sorted for us so that was great. food was shit, though. mince that was half brown water and cold pasta.kept us going, though, and as became my motto throughout camp, food is food.

that night was the only time I cried. kinda sad, tbh, but it was bc on the 'girls' side (as we all know that if the boys and girls tents were together, absolutely everyone would just be going at it, of course (jfc they have a low opinion of year tens (we sorta deserve it though, stuff happened with last years year tens...))) everyone else was paired up and even the people in three person tents didnt want me in there 🥰🥰🥰🥰 really felt the love there, guys.... jokes on them I slept by myself each night and was ready within five minutes each morning. actually really glad they showed how much they didnt care abt me bc it was really nice being alone in the wilderness, and that's not sarcasm.

anyway. day two.

woke up, was ready within ten minutes bc I woke with the leaders, who wake ten minutes before we're meant to and get themselves and breakfast ready before we're up. (I'm really fast at waking up, but take ages to go to sleep. like, everyone has to stfu before my body's able to start shutting down, and as soon as there's people moving around I'm up like a shot.)

anyway. I had eaten breakfast and was washing up before anyone else came out. next kid out was my crush, and we bitched about people taking forever for a while, which was fun.

then we waited for ages for everyone else to get sorted out, blah blah blah, and we had the bike ride back. 11.5 kilometers, I think,mostly downhill for us.

it was fun! I'm not a brilliant biker, but I kept near the middle-front of the group, and i just. let go of the brakes going downhill. and these hills were bloody steep and gravelly, plus the dips and river crossings.

I didnt fall off the bike, but one kid did lmao. there was this sharp turn before a metal gate, and He saw the gate and started pulling kn the brakes, but he hit the front brakes and just. flipped. the bike crashed into me and he went to the ground.

it was funny in the afterwards, but the kid got rather grazed lmao. he's not dead though, so that's good.

we were at the campsite that was, in my opinion, the coldest that night. also I slept in a three person instead of a two person, and by myself that meant more body heat was going into the tent. brrr. but we also did the nightline activity(hold onto a rope and follow it through the dark forest while blindfolded and with a helmet on. highly recommend it. go do it with friends u trust lmao)

I was behind this slow kid and he tripped at one point so I just. went ahead of him. then I spent around half an hour walking through the dark by myself (I walked into five trees. each time I took a step back, glared at it through the blindfold fifty five seconds and then continued around it with a muttered bitch. I'm nothing if not dramatic.) before I crashed into my crush hehe. it was near the end and we just got to the end at the same time, where two others already were. it was chill, we talked for a while. bullied people who were going through it by whacking trees they were near with sticks and shaking the line as they tried to use it. (we were allowed to, dw)

the next day, we went canyoning and holy frick frack fuckedy fuck fuck, that was c o l d. freezing. I jumped into the water and nearly died (exaggerated) but my crush jumped through a fricken waterfall and couldnt feel his hands or feet for ten minutes. another kid was walking funny bc he'd waited in the water for five minutes, and this shit was cold enough that we were wearing wet suits and thermals.

once we were dry and dressed (we got to have showers. h e a v e n (I only took 10 seconds bc like, why tf would you need a longer one? people took fifteen minutes, like wtf)) we went rock climbing! which was brilliant, honestly. I liked the belaying more (I've got this thing where I prefer people trust me than me trusting them, hmmm I wonder why) but also climbed the hardest one! it was really fun, and I only fell like fourteen time at one point (lmao,the rope caught me each time but I looked like a fuvking idiot hehe)

then we slept at a campsite which had a fire kn the beach!! if was so much fun. we also did a solo, which involved us sitting in the wild for twenty minutes and reflecting upon camp. I lay on the ground and stared at the moon. it was lovely and peaceful, until two kids started talking.

side note, guys voices are lovely and deep and rumbly and very nice (in general) but girls are generally higher pitched and ugh, it can be v e r y bloody annoying when ur trying to contemplate life.

possums visited camp that night. woke up in the middle of it to a possum crashing into the side if my tent, and I just. stopped breathing for a minute while I listened to it. a possum growling sounds terrifying. look it up!

also heard cows that night. cows are good.

day four, we abseiled. holy s h i t, it was fun. just... sitting there and watching the river and and rock and dangling in midair.... god, I loved it.

then we went to the high ropes course. this was b r i l l i a n t. we'd done low ropes st some point, but high ropes involved more belaying, which involved, and then at one point, we did a thing called the leap of faith, which was around eight meters high and you climbed to the top of this cylinder of wood before jumping for a trapeze. I knew I wouldn't get it, so I jumped on two when they counted down for me, and I missed lmao. but it was bloody brilliant.

then we had to do a whole shitton of cleanup,which they don't normally get groups to do, but we were s p e c i a l (as in our school gets to clean things we dont even use, sigh) before camping one last night. I had go share with someone, it was gell, packed up at least four tents in the morning bc I was very good at that for some reason,before we hot back to camp and went to the bus and oh, that was brilliant.

I finished my book, chatted with the guys, chatted with my crush for .5 of a second, had that thkng happen where people see you talking to a guy and are like ooOOooohhHHHHHhhh they're dAtiNG bc we're all stupid year tens and it was fucking hilarious (I've never dated anyone, so peopke bloody obsess over pairing me up with someone and I'm just like??? fuckers I'ma child how abt no (sidenote there was a couple on camp and they were cute but uh. year ten relationships dont really last, according to my year 13 camp leader (she was chill af, and basically showed me a whole new perspective on being friends with guys and so in conclusion she's bloody brilliant))) anyway they came up with a ship name for me and the guy and I nearly pissed myself laughing bc its best to laugh along with it and it was really funny tbh

anyway. we also for some reason talked abt sex and porn a lot and it was weird but also kinda chill bc most of the boys are relatively respectful of the girls,in the sense that we all make dirty jokes to each other but don't cross the line, so it was pretty funny and chill. also guys apparently never stop making dick jokes and that type of shit and it was kinda funny tbh

then we got home, grabbed our shit, and legged it away from there.

now I'm gonna rant abt my crush hehe

he was like, oh who's this? when we were walking to dinner in the dark one night (I was in front of him and his friend and he couldn't see my face) and then fucking knew who I was from the way that I walked like mate, why tf do you know how i walk and how to describe it, hmm?

I flipped him off after he said that though it was fucking funny

also!! he just. stared at my eyes and was like, are your eyes different colors? and I was like yeah. and he just nodded slowly and we maintained eye contact for a while. twas weird.

we have staring contests a lot too?? like, he'll look at me or I'll look at him and then at one point he was like, you just stare at people and then tilt ur head, dont you! and I was like wtf dude,but also I kept eye contact bc its a Thing.

also on the bus ride home he just mimicked my facial expressions and it was really bloody funny and j broke out laughed and he smiled

yeah basically I'm hopelessly crushing on him bc he's smart and sarcastic but it never gonna happen so I just wanna be friends type thing. sigh.

ANYWAY. camp was kinda great, at some points it left me feeling like I was so bloody alone and also I felt really shitty mentally but I kept going and i really enjoyed it! yeah! also i nearly cried when i said goodbye to my instructors bc they were brilliant and I'm gonna miss them so bloody much, I'm sad I'll never see them again.

yeah.

#im hopeless ik #but it was chill #yeah #ask questions if youve got any!

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

Penny/Oscar prompt(with trans!Penny and trans!Oscar): Still feeling confused by being chosen as the Winter maiden, she approaches Oscar about whether she can really be a Maiden when her soul came from a man. Oscar tries his best to answer as himself, saying they're not so different as Oz only reincarnates into men, and explains he wasn't born as one, but that it's their feelings towards their gender and own identity that matters more and is a true reflection of their soul.

I don’t think I’m ever going to be completely happy with this one.  It’s been through (at minimum 3-4) drafts and waaay too many read throughs.  I’m just gonna call it done here.  A part of me feels like I could still make it better somehow, but I already put all that I could into it.

That said, Penny and Oscar as valid af and anyone who disagrees can fight me behind Denny’s (sure I’ll probably lose because I’m basically Steve Rogers before he became Captain America, but yeah).

Also if it doesn’t come across that they’re valid af in this fic, I will just go and edit it some more.  I did my best, but I also am somewhat worried that’s not enough.

anywhoooo off to the fic!

.

There Are No Strings On Me (The Farm Boy Is Also A Cricket, Too)

Penny watches the airship lift off and fly away.  She hates staying behind like this.  She understands why.  What she is now, a Maiden—she’s too important to risk on a reconnaissance mission.  The fate of Atlas, Mantle, the entire world rests partially on her shoulders, and not just in an ‘Ironwood telling her that it will be her job to save the world one day’ way.  This is real.  Too real.

Penny holds one of her hands in the other.  She rubs circles with her thumb on her open palm.  Her father, the first chance he got, repaired the damage Cinder’s fiery blade caused when it exploded.  She’s glad for that.  There’s no doubt in her mind that there will be a battle in the near future she will take part in.  Going into a fight with sustained damages is no good.

Penny closes her eyes.  A part of her wants to playback that terrifying moment.  Hurtling through the air, her sensors alerting her to the incoming blade, catching it, her hands overheating.  Spinning out of control.  Falling.

Catching herself.

She refuses to let herself do more than think about it.  She survived the fight.  So did Winter.  That’s what really matters.  

Although, dying doesn’t necessarily scare Penny.  She’s done it once already.  She doesn’t remember it or the time between it and her reactivation.  She never felt pain, terror.  One moment she knew nothing more, and the next she was blinking awake in her father’s lab.  Penny knows truly dying means not waking up again, but she finds it hard to fear the moment when it’ll eventually happen definitively for her.

What she does fear, and what she would cry over if she had the capacity, is the possibility of an afterlife.  Penny has hard evidence now that, if an afterlife does exist, she doesn’t get to go there.  She doesn’t go anywhere.  She just shuts off.  Like any other machine.

She’s not real like actual people are.  She’s a very close replication of life, but there’s still a gaping chasm between her and everyone else.  One that she can never cross precisely because of what she is.

I have come too far to be stopped by some toy!

They’re words said in rage by someone whose opinion Penny knows she shouldn’t really be considering, but they’ve stuck with her since they were yelled at her.  Is that what she is?  A toy?  A puppet?  A plaything?  An imitation of life meant to explore humanity’s capacity for creation?

An imitation of humanity itself, one that deceived—stole—one of its greatest powers out from under it?

Penny can’t describe what having the Maiden powers feels like.  They’re just there.  A part of her, but one that’s somehow detached from her operating systems.  She controls them, can send commands and signals to them like she does literally every other aspect of her body, but they are distinctly separate from her machinery.  Like a magnet that got accidentally stuck to her and won’t come off.  Not truly a part of her.  Not really.

She shouldn’t have gotten them at all.  The Maiden powers were intended as a gift from an old wizard to four living girls, to aid mankind.  Penny isn’t alive, not like everyone else is.  The gift to the maidens was never meant for her.  She intervened in a process she should have stayed out of.  It was not her place to act like she had.

But if she hadn’t…

Penny can imagine what would have happened if Cinder won that fight.  Fria’s final moments would not have been peaceful.  Winter, out of aura and injured, would be in no condition to continue a fight against an even stronger opponent.  Penny herself…well, she already knew how little Cinder regarded her life.

She’d had no choice, hadn’t she?  To save all three of them.  To not waste the window of opportunity Winter gave her by distracting Cinder.  In those precious moments, there was only her.  Penny.

She could have told Fria to think of Winter, couldn’t she?  Fria knew Winter.  Thinking of her probably wouldn’t have been too hard.  But, Penny hadn’t.  Penny had taken Fria’s hand and held it.  Because no one should be alone in that final moment.  Because she couldn’t say she knew what awaited Fria on the other side and she wanted to give Fria whatever comfort she could to send her off.  Because, in that moment, the magical powers hadn’t mattered, but the old woman in Penny’s arms did.

Now, here she is, the Winter Maiden.  A thief of a gift to humanity.

“You okay?”

Penny nearly jumps.  She hadn’t heard Oscar come up behind her.  Her receptors had captured the echoing sound, sure, but her processors hadn’t been attuned to register it.

“I—I’m fine,” Penny says too hurriedly, and closes her lips firmly to prevent the hiccup from escaping her.

Oscar looks at Penny a long moment, and then sits down beside her.  “I hate staying behind like this,” he admits, gesturing to the cave opening the airship flew out of to exit the Crater.  “I know there’s more I can be doing but I…”

“Are too important,” Penny finishes for him.  And he is.  Ozpin can always reincarnate into someone else, yes, but there will only ever be one Oscar Pine.  Even if he stayed behind, like her, because of the special magic connected to him, that’s the truth Penny believes firmly in.

“I guess you know what that’s like.”  Oscar laughs quietly.

Penny doesn’t answer.  They settle into silence.  It’s an odd place to sit, really, the opening that looks out over the Crater.  They have an entire, somewhat comfortable, temporary hideout to go rest in, but neither really want to leave the spot where they can see the sliver of the sky where the airship will first appear when it returns.

“Penny, I…” Oscar begins, and Penny turns to him to listen.  “If it was going to be anyone, I’m glad you’re the Winter Maiden.  I know we don’t know each other well, but I do know you’re a good person.”

“Thanks,” Penny replies quietly.  She knows the words are supposed to be reassuring, but they fall flat to her.  Again, she’d been the only one there, in that moment with Fria.  If the Maiden powers could have gone somewhere else, they probably would have.

It was unfair to them, and Fria.  There’s no way the previous maiden could have known Penny’s true nature.  Fria had much more important, pressing matters on her mind to truly take a second and notice the exposed metal of the palms of Penny’s hands, first when she touched her leg, and then when she held her hand.  Fria probably hadn’t had time to realize no ordinary person could have come through the freezing whirlwind of ice and snow.  She probably hadn’t seen how Penny’s legs were clearly synthetic and attached together at an artificial knee.

Despite being a Maiden who lived well into old age and was, therefore, arguably very clever,  Fria probably hadn’t noticed all the little hints that indicated what Penny is, even though she had every reason to critically examine Penny, since she’d been attacked for the power she was tasked with protecting mere minutes before.

Because that would mean Fria had known (or at least suspected) Penny’s true nature, and decided to choose her anyway.

And why would she do that?  Penny, as she keeps telling herself over and over again, isn’t actually real.  Not a real girl.  Not like Ruby and the rest of her team.  Not like Nora, or Winter, or even Cinder, who’s part Grimm now.  All of them were born, created as girls, and Penny was…well her father had been more focused on building something that functioned.  He’d never chosen a gender for her.  She did that herself, later on, after she gained consciousness.  But he’d given her his aura, and her father was a man.  So, following that line of logic, shouldn’t she too be a man too?

“What if it was a mistake?”  Penny asks Oscar in barely a whisper.

He looks at her.  “What if what was a mistake?”

Penny takes a breath she wholly doesn’t need, but the action she learned is one that people do when they need to prepare themselves to say something important.  “Me becoming the Winter Maiden.  I have my father’s aura.  I’m not a real girl.  I tricked some of the most important magic in the world and stole it from humanity and…” she trails off, unsure of how to finish her self-doubting argument.

At first, Oscar doesn’t reply.  Then, “I have Ozpin’s magic, and his memories,” he says slowly.  “Does that make me him?”

“Of course not,” Penny retorts.  “You’re your own person!”

Oscar grins, and Penny gets the feeling it was his ploy to get her to say that, for both their sakes.  “So, if I can still be me, even if I have a wizard living in my head, then why can’t you be your own person even if your father gave you some of his aura?” He posits.

Penny huffs.  “I know I’m not the same being as my father.  There is substantial evidence supporting the concept that we are two entirely separate entities, but I have his aura, and he is a man.  The maiden powers only attach to females.  Therefore, logically, they should not have come to me.”

“So, following that reasoning, aura and gender are linked,” Oscar muses.  He pauses and, if Penny weren’t so wrapped up in her own tumultuous thoughts, she’d recognize the signs that he’s mentally preparing himself to say something he considers very important.  “What if I had evidence to the contrary?”

“What do you mean?”  Penny asks, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Oscar doesn’t look at her.  His shoulders hunch in.  Instinctively, Penny reaches over and wraps a reassuring arm around his shoulders.  She doesn’t know what he’s going to say next, but she can still recognize it’s hard for him to say.

“I was…I am…Penny, do you know what being transgender is?”

Penny doesn’t reply.  The moment she heard the unfamiliar word, she immediately sent out an inquiry to the Internet to find its meaning.

“Transgender,” she finally says.  “Denotes or relates to a person whose gender identity and expression does not correspond with what it was at birth.”

Oscar lets out a sharp laugh.  “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”  He pauses.  Sensing he’s not finished, Penny waits for him to continue.  He does.  “For me, it means, when my parents’ only child was born, they had a daughter.”  Oscar glances at her warily, but Penny doesn’t interrupt.  He gazes down at his hands, and sighs.  “And that they never got to meet their son either.  They died before he figured that out about himself.”  Hurriedly, he adds, “That’s not the point,” while wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Penny hugs Oscar, hoping to communicate that he doesn’t have to explain further to her if he doesn’t want to.

Oscar leans into the hug.  He doesn’t wrap his arms around Penny in return, but he does rest his weight on her.  “The point is,” he starts again.  “I once had…doubts.  Kind of like you do.  But I learned aura and gender aren’t really related.  Aura is just aura.  It doesn’t really concern itself with any other part of you.  It’s just there.  Completely yours.  It’s what we believe about ourselves, our identities, that makes us who we are.”

“But my aura is my—”

“Yours.”  Oscar sits back.  “Penny, have you ever considered that all parents create their children’s auras when they conceive them?”

“What?”

“It’s something Oz told me once.  We had a conversation kind of like this.”  Oscar inhales slowly and exhales.  “Oz told me everything comes from somewhere.  He has…interesting theories on the origins of Dust and semblances, for instance.  But he told me, our parents are always a part of us, because they gave a part of themselves to make us.  He said, because of that, mine will always be with me.”  Oscar stares down at his hands.  “Even if I never got to know them.  My aunt used to say the same, that I had my father’s laugh and my aura is nearly the same shade of green as my mother’s, but she’s not an ancient, mystical immortal, so I guess she was harder to believe.”

He smiles softly.  “It’s reassuring, in a way.  To know they gave me part of who I am.  My aura.  My laugh.  My appearance, to an extent.  But they didn’t decide who I am.  I’ve done that on my own.”  Oscar looks up at Penny.  “So have you.  You said it yourself.  You aren’t your father.  You have substantial evidence proving that.”

“But you’re human.  I’m not alive.  I don’t have a soul like—”

“How do you know?”  Oscar interrupts.  “How do you know you don’t have a soul?”

Penny hesitates, and then admits what she’s been thinking,  “I died.  I died and I didn’t go to an afterlife or anything.  I just shut down like any other old machine.”

There’s a long pause where Oscar doesn’t say anything.  Penny begins to think he doesn’t have an argument to refute her claim.  When she’s about to stand and walk away, Oscar finally speaks.

“What if you weren’t dead?”  He asks quietly.

“What?”

“Your father recovered your core, you, from Amity Arena, and used it to rebuild you.  A part of you never shut down completely.  In your own way, you were still alive.”  Though the words seem more like an statement, Oscar speaks them like he’s asking a question.

“I guess.”  Penny frowns.  She’s never really thought of it like that before.  Everyone told her she died, so she assumed she had.  But, a part of her had still existed in the world, hadn’t it?  Vulnerable.  Weak.  But not snuffed out completely.

Penny thinks about it more deeply.  Maybe it was like she had been in a coma?  When people are grievously injured, they can go into comas.  They don’t necessarily remember what happens during them either.  They wake up on the other end still alive, just with a gaping hole of time they weren’t conscious for in their life.  Like her.

“That doesn’t mean I have a soul or will go to an afterlife like everyone else,” Penny mumbles, but she’s not as certain that she believes herself now.

“Penny, I’m not sure how else to tell you this, but no one knows what happens to us after we die.  Not even me, and I—well, Ozma—sort of died once.  Actually, it was more like a couple times.”  Oscar winces.  “But Ozma didn’t maintain memories of what happened to him after once the God of Light brought him back.”  He smiles at her.  “Wondering about it, I think, is one of the most human things someone can do.”

“Oh.”  Penny considers the idea that she’s just as alive as everyone else is, and lets that sink in.

“If it helps.”  Oscar leans back on his hands and looks up to the small sliver of sky that’s visible to them.  “We’re probably the only two people who can be completely certain about their identities.”

“How so?”  Curious, Penny cocks her head.

“I was chosen as the next life as an immortal who only reincarnates into men.  You’re the Winter Maiden, who can only be a girl.”  Oscar shrugs.  “We were each chosen by magic older than this incarnation of humanity itself based on the identities we decided for ourselves.  If that’s not validating, I don’t know what is.”

“I never thought about it like that.”  Penny sighs.  “I—I thought I tricked it.  That I looked enough like a girl that the maiden powers came to me because they had no place else to go.”

“The maiden powers are meant to go to those who will travel out in the world and make it a better place because they are able to.  I think that fits you pretty well.”

#rwby #data farms #penny polendina #oscar pine #trans!penny #trans!oscar #whirls writing #misstrashchan

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot

Hi to anyone reading,

Where TF has the time gone!?

After experiencing the longest January of all time (when your birthday is right after New Year, you get that between Boxing Day before NYE slump like a couple of weeks after everyone else), February has gone by in, like, 5 minutes and already we’re well into the throes of the F/W 2021 collection presentations. Meanwhile, I’m here like! Surprise! Here are my reviews of the S/S 2021 collections if anybody still cares! I mean I’m mashing it up with corresponding haute couture week reviews to fool everyone into thinking that doing it so many months later was intentional and it was totally working right up until this sentence, right?

In all fairness, I originally thought that I wasn’t going to bother reviewing S/S21 because it seemed kinda redundant given the circumstances and I wasn’t keen on the idea of collections being showcased via photo sets which is the route so many brands chose to (understandably) go down. Buuuut, the more I saw of what designers had put out there, the more I was tempted to put this post together and now here I am. The fact that designers are even able to churn pieces out during a pandemic when I’m out here like 0__0 no thoughts, head empty...it’s impressive to say the least, especially the way so many used the circumstances to inform their designs. In a way, it would be a disservice not to do a post on the season, and yeah it’s late, but given that it we are actually about to enter spring and the shows are kind of the deciders of what’s going to be “in” and “out”, they’re more relevant than ever. With plans for our way out of lockdown materialising-now is the perfect time to add that I don’t want ANYONE suddenly developing selective amnesia over how our government has failed us now that Boris has announced when the clubs COULD reopen-let this post serve as a roundup of every bit of inspiration available for our spring fits. I also want to use this opportunity to disclose how irritated I am at myself for starting the previous fashion week reviews post by declaring I was going to work through the designers in chronological order when I meant fucking alphabetical because I now can’t go back and change that. So this time, let me start properly. I’m going to be reviewing the collections in ALPHABETICAL order. Now that’s out the way, let’s do it. First, Acne:

It’s so great to start on a high, it really is, and fortunately Acne is reliably good. It’s still got that deconstructed, minimalist feel that the brand is known for but for the summer season; we can see creative director Jonny Johansson and his team moving away from the heavier pieces we saw last time round, away from upcycled bohemian curtains and towards a breezier, more season appropriate aesthetic, boujee kaftans and swimwear rebelliously hacked up and artfully rearranged, and it feels correct. The net pieces, the beachy colour palette, the oil spill-esque print (though this represents an intruder of the marine ecosystem, as a print I loveee it and 100% want more!) and the accessories, reminiscent of shells, coral and anything else you might find on the seabed, give me a hipster mermaid washed ashore vibe which completely fits with that rugged, mysterious sense of Nordic folklore references and adventure the brand has established as its foundation. If it’s a nod to some kind of new age cult that Johansson was going for, which apparently is the case, I’m guessing said cult worship sea goddesses and perform pagan rituals on the beach by moonlight, and though indoctrination doesn’t sound at all inviting, it's a party compared to scientology.

The chiffon trousers here are actually chic and seeing them styled under a blazer makes me realise done right they CAN be more than just a PrettyLittleThing summer sale piece, so I’ll store that away for outfit inspo when the time to get rid of some layers comes around. The glasses, too, are very Gucci. Flip flops with socks I don’t think I can ever come round to but-

Whilst it was a favourite of mine last season and it sticks to that same bohemian vibe with a lot of the elements I love, Ferretti lacks a little oomph this time round; it’s more stripped back, neutral, easy-going, and it is lovely, but for those same reasons it doesn’t grab my attention as much as the past couple of collections have. If you’re an influencer wanting to shoot a Joshua Tree desert lookbook this is sublime, but compared to the flair I saw in their last winter show, for example, there’s something lacking.

I’m very glad to see neutral coloured boiler suits on the runway, however; I snagged myself one off Depop the other week so I might be unintentionally ahead of the curve for once! The crochet detail dresses are nice too but very much remind me of past Zimmerman collections, or an Ermanno Scervino grab for the most high street friendly parts of Erdem SS2020, something along those lines. What I’m trying to say is that it’s definitely been there done that, even by Ferretti themselves and not in a continuity kinda way, in a kinda…this is basic and pretty so we know it will sell kinda way.

Eurgh, I wanna be one of these Alessandra Rich girls so bad.

I end up repeating myself every single time because I always love her collections but really, this is what a high fashion novice thinks Chanel is. Alessandra Rich outsold. As much as her dresses have looked amazing on people like Kate Middleton and January Jones, I’m just waiting for one of the modern it-girls to take the nostalgia-tinged femininity of her pieces and put some kind of daring, street-style twist on it; if that doesn’t happen I’ll gladly take 5 minutes of fame so I can do it before fading back into obscurity. Let me fulfil my modern first lady fantasy, reenact the croquet scene from Heathers, drape myself on a chaise lounge whilst smoking with a cigarette holder, and then throw me back into the trash where I belong. I can die happy. Also, can we once again appreciate how much more iconic the Alessandra Rich two piece made the already moment Dakota Johnson singlehandedly brought down the Ellen dynasty?

Dakota knew exactly what she was gonna do and the energy that she was gonna channel when she wore that piece and I admire it. Alessandra Rich, if nothing else, will go down as a key moment in pop culture history, and you know what? It’s what she deserves.

Whilst I do wish she’d branch out a little and try and get back in touch with the dark drama of old McQueen collections now and again, Sarah Burton has made a very recognisable Alexander McQueen silhouette and it’s beautiful; this season is gorgeous as always. A leather biker and tulle affair that’s perfect for a grunge ballet, it’s easy to avoid lamenting the excitement and theatrics of old collections when Sarah creates such consistently sophisticated pieces. Stunning.

Now, a quick haute couture detour with Alexandre Vauthier:

Compared to other haute couture collections, this is pretty toned down and by appearances alone (I know haute couture is more about meeting technical requirements more than anything else but there is a level of grandiose you expect to see) is more like a RTW collection than its counterparts. That being the case, I don’t have a huge amount to say about this one, though I do really like it-the ruched metallic boots especially. The Studio 54 vibes and the glam rock influences are clear and a lot of these pieces could definitely make it into Lady Gaga’s AHS Hotel wardrobe which is a compliment of the highest order, so there ya go. Plus, if a collection IS gonna be presented through stills, a format like this is preferable to some of the others I’m gonna talk about. There may be more exciting ways of doing it but simple allows us to see the clothes properly and at the end of the day, that’s what I care about the most!

Heading back to good ole’ RTW, we have Altuzarra; I wasn’t hugely keen on their last collection but this is definitely a step up for me and justifies keeping them on my radar. Though in some ways this seems like less of a summer collection and more of a late winter/early spring transitional one on the basis it can’t seem to decide which temperature its catering to, there’s a lot to like: a colour palette that reminds me of a Dion Lee collection, harnesses evocative of those sprinkled throughout the last few Alexander McQueen shows, and more of the utility wear trend that I’m still very much into nicely contrasted against lighter, airier pieces for an overall fresh, modern vibe. The interpretive dancewear style pieces are interesting and the woven platform sandals are the shoe of the summer but the white shirt with the cape incorporated is definitely the high point of this show and I absolutely adore it.

Anna Sui was actually pretty cute this time round. Her pieces have always been kooky, but in the past a little too lairy and occasionally cheap-looking for me. This collection, however, is kooky in more of a Melanie Martinez styled baby doll kinda way, as opposed to in an eccentric Bjork loving aunt whose idea of heaven is an all-must-go Primark sale kinda way (I know some people are going to vehemently disagree with my aesthetic preference there) and I love that. There seems to be a lot more creative direction going on, a much clearer vision of what Sui wanted to achieve, and yes a few of the looks went a bit too hard on the cookie cutter vibes but on the whole, they were more edited than usual; it seems Sui actually paid attention to the “take one thing off before you leave the house” rule this time. The staging is the perfect compliment to the doily style bucket hats and the sandals paired with frilly socks, and really adds to the whimsy of the collection, and as a whole, it really reminds me a lot of the way my mum would dress me as a toddler but styled up for a grown adult. Cute AF.

Armani RTW I was pleasantly surprised by, considering I don’t usually rate it. It’s a cool, androgynous take on retro shapes and styles that’s simultaneously fit for the hustle and bustle of the modern world. Strong 2021 Peggy Olsen vibes, and a bit muted Lacoste-I can 100% imagine Elisabeth Moss as Peggy swanning around in one of those huge minimalist houses with the floor to ceiling windows after a long day at work, though we’ll switch the cigarette for a vape because...you know...welcome to the future. And sure, maybe the vision is slightly influenced by THAT scene from Us, but whatever. As for the men’s wear, if I have to look through an endless gallery of straight white men in plain ass suits every time I do some kind of red carpet fashion review, I at least hope they’re wearing Armani. I need me some impeccable tailoring to soften the blow.

I do wonder, however, how the clothes would look on plus size models. I feel like it’s a collection that’s very catered to a person who is straight up and down, and it feels like a bit of an easy cop out not to have any kind of versatility. Say what you want about Christian Siriano but he caters to all body types very well.

I actually quite liked Armani’s haute couture collection too; the pops of colour and the intricate embroidery give me what I’ll later talk about missing from Valentino haute couture. There were still some of the frumpier pieces that I usually associate Armani with but also a lot of Great Gatsby-esque looks that I really enjoyed.

Returning to RTW, Ashish was amazing. I LOVE that there’s always some kind of unique print (this time round, kitschy illustrations) and whilst a whole maxi swan print dress may not be the most wearable for the majority of us, Ashish Gupta does bold and innovative really well. There were a few boring striped pieces in there but I adore the one shouldered butterfly print dress and I NEED that Hail Satan jumper; it reminds me a lot of something by sustainable fashion brand Minga, which is one of my absolute fave websites to buy from when I’m treating myself to some new clothes.

Azarro’s haute couture collection is full of supreme awards show afterparty fits, and I was shook to find out that Olivier Theyskens is the brand’s creative director! My newfound obsession with his pieces really had me like :O when I realised he was behind Azarro too. I loved their collection last time round, though this I’m finding a bit harder to give much analysis on because of the way it’s shot; whilst it could be a YSL perfume Vogue ad, which is obviously far from a bad thing, it comes at the cost of lacking visual clarity. That being said, from what I can see, Theyskens once again masterfully channels the wardrobe of the effortlessly cool, messy haired, smudged eye make up rock ‘n roll girl, and I think that’s someone we all want to be.

Balenciaga RTW was an interesting one for me-on first inspection, I was kinda disappointed. Without the usual drama of the bold, exaggerated silhouettes and the theatrical production of their shows, I felt it was missing a bit of the magic I’ve come to expect from them. The streetwear elements infused throughout, a departure from their typical pieces, was very hit and miss; the shearling slip-ons in particular were not my thing at all. I’d be admiring some beautiful gothic dress and then my eyes would slide down and see those monstrosities and it would bring the whole thing down a notch or two, despite bad shoes being something I can typically overlook if I otherwise enjoy the rest of the outfit. My initial conclusion: that the Balenciaga Myrtle Snow would choose as her last words this collection.

However, upon re-evaluation when typing this post up properly and knowing what to expect, I like the collection a lot. I’m getting a bit of a Seoul streetwear vibe from it, and I can appreciate that although it is a lot more trend focussed, it’s got an edgy, daring quality to it, with a lot of androgynous, utility wear elements on show. I loveee the Balenciaga chokers too and in my wildest dreams would get my hands on one before it goes the way of the Gucci belt and gets overdone and flaunted by social media influencers as a show of wealth to the point of tackiness.

At Balmain the sculpted body armour made a comeback but on this occasion, not in a way that I liked, and there war far too many neons for my taste too. No matter how many times it rears its ugly head, I find it hard to get on board because as a colour palette I can’t help but associate with Claire’s Accessories circa 2007-it has to be SO well done to avoid looking cheap, imo, and these Balmain pieces weren’t good enough for me to go against that gut aversion. A collection with 100+ looks isn’t usually a good sign and expecting Olivier Rousteing to achieve the impossible and manage to do both quality and quantity is a recipe for disaster; it’s a shame because his last collection was so original and yet this one feels like a cheaper looking rip off of other brands. It was just a bawdy display of 80s overkill IMO and if I can only find 8 outfits to include out of 100 that’s clearly not a good sign.

Bottega Veneta is a brand that the high fashion side of the internet loves that I can never 100% get on board with; I get it, they’re behind the gorgeous square toed heels, but other than that none of their collections have ever really wowed me. The chunky knitted pieces are very Miu Miu style futuristic grandma chic and as someone on the cusp of being either a millennial or gen Z (depending on which website you visit) it’s got me outfit planning for my retirement years. Utilising so much wool for a summer collection, however, seems like a choice because can you IMAGINE wearing a heavy knit in blazing sun; I almost didn’t include the collection to be honest but then every so often something really cute came long, and one of the signature crisp, classic BV pieces would be done well and so I felt I had to. Am I missing something given all the hype here? IDK tbh.

Burberry? Meh. You could also call this collection how many ways can I do a trench coat, with results of differing quality; occasionally the mix match of styles worked and I saw the deconstructed outerwear concept that Ricardo Tisci was presumably trying to go for, though it can’t come as much of a surprise that the combination of a trench, denim and leather jacket was mostly just messy and came off as a last ditch attempt to make the classic coat more interesting by just chucking other fabrics at it and seeing what stuck.

One thing I will say is that there were some really sick prints going on-the snakes in particular-and it was those prints that were really the saving grace of the collection; as I said with regards to Ashish, I like it when you can tell a brand has gone out of their way to experiment with patterns and actually incorporate illustration and graphic design into their pieces. Prints notwithstanding, though, it wasn’t a memorable collection and I really can’t wait for the day we put this whole multiple denim jean waistband trend to bed once and for all; in the wise words of Regina George “stop drying to make multiple waist bands happen. They’re not going to happen.”.

Carolina Herrera was just as I expected. Whilst Wes Gordon was a little more daring with the structure of the pieces than usual, you can still he’s still committed to designing for the wealthy, modestly dressed socialite (yes I’m talking about Tinsley Mortimer and yes, I have recently become obsessed with Real Housewives) and her insatiable need to collect more charity gala gowns than she’ll ever possibly have opportunities to wear in her time on this earth. Sounds like a great life, sure, but it’s not like it gets my heart racing when I see the looks on the runway. The most memorable piece for sure was double breasted blazer w the asymmetric ruffle; I haven’t seen anything like it in a RTW collection in recent memory.

Now onto the fucking train wreck that was Celine RTW.

It’s not even bad for a runway fashion show, it’s just like…straight-up bad. Like Hedi Slimane went back in time to 2013, took a bunch of models into my local Topshop (and I have to clarify my local Topshop rather than the flagship Oxford Circus store-RIP-because to do the same in the latter would produce far better results), picked up some cheap basics, switched the lights off, and then, finally, dressed them in the dark. There’s very few positive comments I can make so I’m just going to move on.

Chanel RTW I actually didn’t hate as much this season; maybe it’s because coming from Celine, my standards are like, on the floor, but it’s slightly better than usual. Whilst most of it was same old same old, the opening 10 or so looks and then from 40 onwards were alright. The colour contrast pieces were classic Chanel in a good way, that is to say somewhat modernised and appealing to a younger clientele as opposed to the elderly women who still see a boucle jacket as the height of fashion. The mini chiffon capes were also cute, and if it weren’t for COVID putting pause on everything I can see the Chanel headband being duped ad infinitum.

The worst part of the collection was without a doubt the pieces with the neon logo print, which I wish I could erase from my mind. At this point, with Virginie Viard seemingly refusing to make any attempt to reinvent the brand, Chanel is best when it’s subtle; that way it appeals to those regular customers who rely on the prestige of the garment and the new generation of consumers who are further branching out into experimenting with their personal style and want a quality base. But who I ask are these tacky ass pieces aimed at? Because though it appears to be an attempt to infuse a kind of youthful spirit into Chanel, it is very out of touch with what gen Z actually like, and I can’t imagine any rich old white ladies buying them either. Big shoulder shrug.

Whilst I tend to find Chanel’s haute couture collections a bit better than their RTW, this is probably on par. Still rather meh and frumpy at times, but there were some pretty, whimsical pieces in there that were definitely elevated by the staging which, I must say, was very dreamy. I’ve enjoyed the last couple of haute couture shows a lot more (the one with the library set was v cool), which were comparatively restrained with the frivolous details and the chintz, so this seems a step back. The dresses with the 50s Audrey Hepburn for Miss Dior style silhouette are lovely but obviously, as per the reference, nothing new.

Onto something much more exciting, we have Charlotte Knowles’ RTW collection, whose work has made her one to watch. I’m not as huge a fan of this as her last instalment, but Knowles’ (who I recently found out only just graduated from Central Saint Martins, making her achievements all the more impressive) continues to create clothes for a girl far cooler than myself; I know, that wouldn’t be hard, but we’re talking like, miles cooler. One of those women who can literally pull anything off and immediately make you want to try it yourself even though 9 times out of 10 that would be a bad idea-I could probably take, like, one piece and make it work but anything more would most likely just be me embarrassing myself. You wouldn’t think San Fransisco psychedelic summer of love motifs would mesh with futuristic Mad Max style biker vibes but Charlotte and her partner Alexandre Arsenault make it sexy AF, like a combo that was always meant to be. They are a dream team.

And lastly for this post, we have another collection I really liked: Chloe. Sadly Natacha Ramsay-Levi’s last collection for the brand, she truly went out on a high note, with a reliably gorgeous iteration of her sophisticated take on bohemian style. Who now, will we look to when we want to cosplay as one of the Jessas from Girls of the world? When we want to pretend we’re a rich, party girl socialite backpacking across Western Europe (along the foothills of Mount Tibidabo…) on a commissioned trip to “find herself” for the fashion magazine column she’s writing, whilst we’re actually on a budget family holiday in Spain? When we can’t decide if we’re dressing like a modern day Rachel Green or Phoebe Buffay and say fuck it, I’m gonna do both? I mean sure, I could never afford Chloe anyway and sure, I’m interested to see what Gabriela Hearst can do with the brand, which despite its loveliness is quite predictable, but it’s definitely sad to see Ramsay-Levi go when she has become a reliable source of elegance and class each season. She brings a quietly confident brand of femininity to the fashion world where the high profile design houses are increasingly dominated by men who are sometimes too focussed on being bold and brash enough to be hailed as the newest design visionary, and I have huge respect for that. She will be missed.

Now it feels right to end the post here, given that I just finished with a kind of dramatic memoriam for a woman who is very much still alive and given that I would really be playing with fire by trying to push Tumblr’s edit post feature any further, so I’ll wrap it up for now. In part 2, which will hopefully be out over the next couple of weeks, we’ll be looking at a surprisingly strong haute couture collection from (can’t believe I’m about to say this) Maria Grazia as well as some of my faves, Etro, Dion Lee, Gucci, and of course Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture. In the meantime, I’m hoping to get a post out on my favourite sustainable clothing brands and to shoot my take on the “what I would wear sat front row at X” video trend that’s been going around lately on TikTok and Instagram reels, which I know I am kinda late to the party with.

I’m also looking at starting “photo dump” posts where I basically just substitute what I would be putting on my Instagram feed as photo posts on here, all the way back to when I first started my fashion Instagram account. I know this is hardly a hot take, but Instagram has really gone to shit, and once I’ve moved all my photos from there to here, I’m probably going to be deleting my account and just keep my private personal one. I’m sick of the endless scrolling past photos of people edited to the point of being unrecognisable and of seeing faces that all conform to that exact same Eurocentric beauty standard with the exact same surgical procedures to the point that even I, as a thin, white cis girl feel disgusting (so god knows how others without my privilege feel) because I don’t have a fucking fox eye lift or whatever it is that internet famous surgeons are telling us we need for our faces to fit the “golden ratio” at the moment. I am OVERRR all the promoted posts from people who preach social awareness and equality and authenticity and kindness making money off promoting companies that rely on slave labour rather than those who make me feel uplifted and inspired. And I am VERY MUCH done with scrolling through share for share and like for like pages because I am embarrassed by the fact that my likes don’t match up to my follower count since that must mean that NOBODY LIKES ME AND EVERYONE HATES MY FACE, right!? Even though I’d like to think that mentality was something I grew out of a long time ago. Instagram, much like Facebook before it (which is no surprise since the latter now owns the former), has just become another cesspit of an app which exists solely to convince you to buy new clothes and follow the latest filler trend and blow money on holidays you can’t afford to convince everyone you’re living the good life. Like many others, I have finally come to the conclusion that the way Instagram operates now is nothing but detrimental to my wellbeing. So, all that being said, I’m moving my feed over here, to a place where I can just arrange my silly little photos into silly little collages and not care if I’m shouting into the void by doing so because they’re just a screenshot of my life that I can look back on in however many years time and think Oh, Cool! That’s What I Was Interested In Back Then! That Outfit is Timeless! Or That One Was a HUGE FUCKING MISTAKE! Because I do love the creative element of Instagram, turning your feed into a collage, picking out which colours compliment each other, posting your favourite art and your outfits and the makeup looks you’re proud of, the beautiful sights you’ve seen-I just hate how unbridled capitalism and unrealistic social expectations have once again destroyed a good thing, and caused it to stray so far from its original vision of connecting people. Here, I don’t care if I get 0 interactions on those kinds of posts, because I am putting stuff out there I am proud of that expresses who I am and that interests me, and when I put a lot of hard ass work into something that’s actually important or that benefits others in some way as opposed to indulging my own vanity, it does get some circulation and I hope that it does make a positive difference, regardless of how small. I hope it doesn’t bother anyone too much seeing my initial photo dump posts on their dashboard as I try and catch up to where I am now; you’ll probs see a mini influx of 2015 fashion and I’m sorry about that! But I don’t *think* it will be too long until I’m up to date and then the photo dump posts will be much less regular.

Anyway, sorry about the Instagram rant there at the end! If you read all the way til the end, this is a  huuuuge thank you! I hope you enjoyed the post and I will get the next one out ASAP, potentially with a few posts in between. As always, feel free to inbox me if there’s anything you wanted to talk about or suggest and make sure you stay safe. There may finally be some light at the end of the tunnel:D

With a cautious dose of optimism, and the acknowledgement that I will most likely regret saying this: bring on June the 21st UK gals!

Lauren x

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