#like the line about the hypothesis?? i would have never thought of that in a million years

[apocalyp-tech-a]

Remember in Season 1, Episode 1 Aftermath, Tech says "I am merely stating a theoretical hypothesis based on factual data?" Well, that's what I did, I made a "logical conclusion." From Lama Su coming back when we thought he was dead to the infamous "domicile," it was all factual evidence that was meant to push us in a direction of hoping that Tech would return and that CX-2 could be the way he does it. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. There's an underlying reason that I love Tech not based on just his handsome looks. I don't claim to have an exceptional mind like him and I don't intend to convince anyone that CX-2 was Tech, but I do want to explain how it could be construed through the way that character was presented that he could have been and none of us were wrong or "losers" to think so as well as the possibility of Tech's return in general.

45 69 Reasons and more well on the way, lol...

General reasons: *Tech is never seen actually dying. *Hemlock being untrustworthy source of death certificate. *The return of many thought to be dead characters in past Star Wars from Darth Maul who was sliced in half to Lama Su - the door closed on him and we thought he was getting shot by troopers only to show up alive later and this happened in The Bad Batch itself. *CX-2 is shown walking toward the 'light' after dropping off Omega, symbolically toward a future redemption. @astrovoidy *Height change on starwars.com *The word 'dead' danced around on official sites and by BB employees *the similarities to Winter soldier @on-a-quest *the cryptic tweets that showcased reborn characters like Gandalf *The official poster of CX-2 shows him in 'good' light. @eriexplosion *other people in professional settings like New Rock Stars on youtube thought the same exact thing *the large focus on CX-2, over multiple episodes *misleading title of last episode "The Cavalry Has Arrived" *Tech being smart enough to find a solution *If Season 2 could be compared to Empire Strikes Back, Tech was taken from us the way Han Solo was, but Han Solo was returned so surely Tech would be as well *no one expected a main ensemble character permadeath *the fight with Crosshair music had hints of "The Sacrifice" in it *Tech’s whole big conversation with Romar was about culture and memory, and he helped Romar restoring a data repository. Between the implication that Tech would have lost his memories and Phee saying, “Tech’s brain was the databank, not mine,” you could easily see that as foreshadowing for Tech getting his memories back. @heyclickadee *All the little one line reminders and goggles shots up through episode twelve only serve to make the audience want Tech back. They aren’t closure, they’re reminders of his absence. [Tech never being quite mourned.] @heyclickadee *The goggles are lit, or look like they’re lit, in every scene they’re in except the last one, which sure makes all those earlier shots deliberate. @heyclickadee

Physical and character similarities: *the shrimp posture *the kick in the fight similar to droid kick in S1E1 *the similar hand to hand combat style *the shooting accuracy- ipsium cave/ plan 99 *the elegant deliberate movement especially of hands and fingers *the animated head and body when speaking *the helmet – even has his hairline @jorolle *the viewfinder similar to Tech's and utilized just as often *the pouches(!!!) *the limberness and agility *the confident capability *the crouching/getting on one knee - Tech is an infamous croucher! *the deviant nature – ignoring orders *the technology know how *the flying – some say the turn on Teth was a Tech Turn *the extraness of tool/weapon twirl *armpad like Tech's datapad @wolveria *CX-2's ship has similarities to the Marauder @wolveria *Tech CC-9902 / CX-2 - both end in 2 @wolveria *We are reminded this season that Tech was especially good at decryption. What do we see CX-2 doing on Phee’s ship? Yeah. @heyclickadee *Season two went out of its way to establish that Tech has a high pain tolerance, is a good close range fighter (he won a life-or-death fight with a guy when he had that broken femur), quick processing speed, and is an excellent shot. All skills we see CX-2 exhibit. @heyclickadee

The 'British' accent, speech inflection, pronunciation. and vocabulary (this alone is enough to onvince anyone...): 'You better get back HERE." - "I know the girl is HERE." "The fifth IS Omega." - "The girl IS alive." "Who are you?" - "Who are you?" "Naveecomputah." - "Neveecomputah." "DOMICILE." - "DOMICLE."

Cinematic framing similarities: *the limping *the coming out of the water @lilacjunimo *hooking the rappel hook rappelling down was like dangling off the rail car *the boulder moving *helmet viewpoint from CX-2 in finale, only BB members ever had that

Conjectural situations of suspicion: *the beef with Crosshair *the constant surviving *the pausing when choking Crosshair *the pausing to look at Phee *The implications that Crosshair seems to know something about CX-2 (he wants to get out of dodge when he knows CX-2 is coming), and the intense lingering guilt Crosshair feels—and which is never dealt with! It’s still there through the finale—implying he knows or suspects it’s Tech. @heyclickadee *“Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done, you’re still one of us,” offered by Rex towards the CXs @heyclickadee *Crosshair’s character arc this season being partly about realizing that anyone can change and that no one is really beyond saving, which would have continued going somewhere if he thought CX-2 was Tech and considered him beyond saving, but then changed his mind and realized he needed to try. Notice that he does not engage CX-2 in 11 like he did in 7, and that this comes after his revelation about giving people a chance in 9. @heyclickadee *CX-2 is even more Tech like in 11 than he was in 6 and 7. This implies that he could be starting to wake up, and that almost killing Crosshair triggered that. He doesn’t kill anyone except one of his own guys on Pabu (or Phee) even though it would make his job much easier. He even has Hunter and Wrecker in his sights and moves his aim to not shoot them directly. @heyclickadee *Crosshair has no way to know that the CX’d clones come out different and that their identities are erased unless it happened to someone we know. In fact, there’s not reason for the CX plot to exist unless that horrific thing happens to someone we know. @heyclickadee *The first episode of the show starts out with Hunter covering for someone who supposedly died in a fall. In fact, there are direct parallels in the lines: “Where’s the Jedi?” “I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.” vs “Where’s Tech?” “Omega…Tech didn’t make it.” I’m not saying Hunter was covering for Tech; I am saying that is the only place in the script where we see those phrases matched up. @heyclickadee *Tech being CX-2 would have fit in perfectly with each member of the batch experiencing a traumatic loss (and regaining) of agency that correlated directly to who and how they are as people. @heyclickadee Foreshadowing lines: *More machine than man, percentage wise at least. *Better late than dead. *See you around, Brown Eyes. *Tech's not gone. *The operative's gone rogue. *Romar saying he's a survivor and Tech's look at him. *Don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers. @heyclickadee

Abandoned storyline reasons: *The romance with Phee, surely it wouldn't be abandoned!? 🙄😡 *CX-2's death being anticlimactic *The finale seeming rushed and incomplete *Actors saying there were script changes *CX-2's accent in the finale was not only like Tech's as it was in previous episodes, it wasn't even a clone accent (wtf was that) signaling a script change

@wolveria made a great analysis here with her Tech-Genda ! @heyclickadee gave great evidence, more in comments!

Having said that, here are some reasons it may not have been him: *Too many characters coming back from the dead. *The way he says 'clones' in Infiltration was more reg accent. *Tech's line in the cave to Omega which "was a big one to me” in retrospect: "I am aware that you miss him, but we have to adapt and move on." As for the intentions of the writers to either have been forced to change the script, but can't admit it due to NDAs or if they truly meant for CX-2 to be Crosshair's foil which to me was unnecessary and unclear, especially with all of the evidence above, at least they could have made him talk and move like a reg. Making him talk and walk like Tech was, to be frank, cruel on top of a cruel we already experienced in Plan 99. I think this is the last time I'll personally address Season 3 or the finale unless to support other commentators/creators and for my own fix-it and art and writing. And I look forward to seeing everyone else's works as well and hope no one gives up this beautiful Batch or fandom as I almost did. Canon seems done with him, he belongs to us now. 💜 And if anyone has anything I missed (I'm sure I'll think of more myself), feel free to comment or reblog with that addition or a link to your own post and/or I can edit the OP to include. Also, don't feel like you can't make your own post about this subject! But I do hope this maybe helped anyone still dealing with the 'aftermath' like me, to know you're not alone, and you did not read too much into it. (In retrospect, I can't believe they killed him though, lol. What the kriff were they thinking!?! #too handsome to die #too awesome to die)

#tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #star wars #the bad batch #cx-2 #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tbb #analysis #the bad batch season 3 #TECH LIVES! #DOMICILE y'all!!! what the kriff...

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I’ve been on my criminal minds rerun and it made me come up with this Spencer request if you’re taking them right now! Something along the lines of the reader and Spencer being together and she becomes pregnant but he pieces it together before she does!

tysm for requesting! hope this is ok♡ 1k

cw fem!reader has a positive attitude towards her pregnancy. vaguely adult theme

"I really don't think I can go," you say, flopping down on the bed. 

Spencer laughs and shakes out the shirt in his hands, hoping the creases from the dryer will iron themselves before dinner tonight. "You always say that."

"I really mean it this time. I miss Hotch, I do, and I'm glad he's out of WITSEC, but thinking about the restaurant is making me queasy." 

"Really? I looked it up, it's a nice place. They have their Grade A, it should be spotless in there. I'm pretty sure they almost got a Michelin star." 

You groan, turning onto your side. "I looked too. The entire menu is seafood," you whine. 

"What's wrong with that?" Spencer asks, giving you a quizzical look. 

"The smell." You rub your nose against his pillow and sigh. "I don't feel good. Didn't rough me up in my sleep, did you?" 

"I would never do that," he says, putting the last of the laundry aside to sit by your hip. His hand rests naturally against the slight curve of your side, fingertips pushing the hem of your shirt up enough to steal a glance at your back. 

He wouldn't say this aloud and it doesn't matter, but you've gained a little weight recently. Actually, it does matter in that he thinks it's adorable, but he knows that telling your partner they've gained weight is a faux pas. He likes it, anyhow. It's happy weight. 

Things are so serious now but they don't feel serious. There's no solemness in your relationship, just comfort. He's putting on weight in tandem. 

"You really don't want to go?" Spencer asks. The earlier he lets Hotch know the better. 

You wrap an arm around your stomach. "Sorry, Spence. I'm so sorry, I've felt sick all day and I think it'll just be a repeat of yesterday morning." You puked before breakfast, the smell of eggs too much to bear.

Spencer feels it click into place then and there. The weight, the puking, your changing taste. Your sore chest and lower back, your sensitivity. 

He pushes you gently, a hand on your hip to encourage you down. Careful, he lays down next to you, propping his head on the pillow as he brings hand up to hold you. He can't know for sure… but if you're pregnant as he suspects, it fits. And more than that, it's insane. He doesn't know how to handle this besides wrapping you up in his arms. He'll keep you forever, if he can. 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his voice faraway. You relax completely in his arms, sliding your leg over his to lock him in. "Does your back still hurt?" 

"My chest, Spence," you lament, "it feels like I'm winded. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe you shouldn't be near me." 

"In that case, I'm staying right here." 

You laugh softly, the warmth of it a circle on his shoulder. "I can call Hotch myself and say sorry. I'll feel better in a few days, and we'll reschedule, and I'll pay even if he tries to." 

Spencer draws a line up your back. Now or never. 

He steels his nerves, the beginning of a hypothesis hesitating on his tongue. Your symptoms in addition to your irregular period and your regular sex lives points toward pregnancy. How does he say that? How should he say it? Should he even bring it up? Perhaps he should wait until you discover it yourself. And you aren't definitely pregnant, it's just a possibility. Maybe you're simply sick—

"Hey, earth to handsome," you whisper, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. You smile as he snaps out of his thoughts. "Hey. I lost you for a few seconds, where'd you go?" 

"Nowhere. I'm here." 

Your smile gets impossibly fond. It's not dissimilar to how you usually look at him. "Are you okay?" 

"Fine. I love you." 

"I love you," you say. 

There's something about you now, this gaussian blur to you. Sunlight seeps in lazily through the blinds thick as honey, a golden kiss to your skin where you lay face to face with him, and your I love you makes him want to cry. This is all ridiculous and amazing and he doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to make his mouth move into the right words. 

"What is it?" you ask. You know him better than anyone. 

"I think you're pregnant." Spencer winces, though he can't beat his smile into submission. "I mean. You could be pregnant." 

"Why do you think that?" you ask, visibly startled. 

"Your sensitivity to strong smells, your soreness, your late period, to name the more obvious. That's not factoring in your worsening low iron lately, and your headaches." You make a strange sound he doesn't like. "What?" he asks worriedly.  

"I'm late," you say into yourself, looking past him as you puzzle it over. 

"It's a good thing, if you are. I mean, it's an amazing thing if you want it to be. I'm saying everything wrong. It's only amazing if you want it to be, I want it to be. But I'm on your side no matter what." He grimaces into his hands, rubbing his face with both palms. 

You sit as he panics. He clicks his neck looking up, racing to follow you, alarmed as you shimmy down the bed toward the ensuite bathroom. 

"What are you–" 

"I'm gonna take a test." 

"Wait a second." Spencer catches your hands before you can get too far, pulling you back to the end of the bed to sit down. "Wait. Is it– is it bad? If you are?" 

You look down at your stomach briefly. Anyone else might miss it, but Spencer can't not follow your behaviour, and the way you're acting now makes him think he got it wrong. That you won't be happy. 

You grab Spencer's hand. "You know, it's not funny. All our friends are gonna ask how I found out, and I'm gonna have to admit that you noticed it first." Your eyes track up his face almost shyly, and soon your smile is as blistering as his. 

Spencer bends under your weight as you jump up, throwing your arms behind his neck, your lips smashed to his ear. "I love you," you whisper urgently, "so much. This is good, right? This is really good." 

"Are you kidding?" he asks incredulously. 

Spencer takes your face into two hands and kisses you as hard as he ever has. He realises a second in that he'd much rather be squeezing you, caging you into the circle of his arms unrepentant. 

"We have a really good excuse to miss dinner," Spencer says.

He sounds close to tears. You're worse, laughing wetly as you pull him into the bathroom to take your test. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[suzukiblu]

Day nineteen of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

. . . huh, Tim thinks as he watches Kon rub his thumb over the goat's soft and fluffy fur, suddenly reminded of the cashmere. Okay, maybe his hypothesis about Kon's possible appreciation for nice textures is actually a thing, then. Noted and taken into evidence. 

“It's . . . cute,” Kon says, ducking his head a little and still slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth across the goat's fur as he looks down at it again, his face still all red. Tim makes a mental note about maximizing the amount of nice textures in Kon's life. He is gonna buy him sheets with a very high thread count, just to start. “Um–thanks, man.” 

“You're welcome,” Tim says as he has the incredibly weird thought that Kon has probably never actually owned an actual toy before. Like, maybe video games and things like that? He’s pretty sure he's heard Kon mention a few video games he likes before, now that he's thinking about it, but in retrospect he doesn't know if he even owns a console of his own or just played them with someone else at some point or . . . who knows, really? 

Like, Tim didn't decide to buy him a toy because of that, obviously, he really was just thinking of the idea as a cute little hopefully-the-right-kind-of-flirty reminder of how they “met”, but . . . 

It's a weird thought, is all.

. . . also, additional mental note, he should make sure to buy Kon a console if he doesn't already have one. And maybe a handheld system too, and obviously whatever games he wants for both. Maybe a couple spare controllers in case he wants to have anyone over, Tim has no idea, but better safe than sorry. 

“Let’s pay,” he says, redistributing the shopping bags between both hands again and then nodding towards the register. “Do you like video games?” 

“Sure,” Kon says, glancing sidelong at him again as they head for the counter. He’s doing that a lot, it feels like, though Tim isn’t sure why yet. Just intel to absorb, for right now. “Who doesn’t like video games?” 

“Do you have any?” Tim asks, and Kon looks–embarrassed, almost? Weirdly? 

“I can’t exactly have you over to play, man. No offense, it’s like a security clearance thing with the lab,” he says, which is not where Tim was going with that at all and is sort of . . . flustering, actually. Like, to hear, he means. He’s trying to buy things for Kon, not invite himself over to, like . . . pester him for attention or whatever. 

“Yeah, you'd be kind of hard to explain to my dad,” he agrees, putting on a wry expression. Kon's mouth tightens for a second, for some reason, and then he smiles awkwardly in his direction, not quite meeting his eyes. Tim represses a frown, wondering what that’s about. 

“Usually am, yeah,” Kon says. 

“Well, once we get you a place of your own, that’ll solve that problem,” Tim says reasonably as they wait in line together, though obviously he doesn’t really expect Kon to have him over or–

“You’d actually wanna come over if I had my own place?” Kon asks hesitantly. “Like–to hang out or whatever?” 

. . . Tim wonders who exactly ground all of Kon’s usually-boundless confidence into the dirt, because he’d just like to have a word with them. Or shove a doomsday weapon up their ass; whichever’s more convenient at the time. Considering how Kon usually acts, Tim doesn’t even want to think about how shitty someone had to be to get a reaction like that out of him. 

“I would,” he says. “We could order in and play something, maybe.” 

“I don’t actually have a console or anything. Shit, I don’t even have a TV,” Kon admits. “Which is not a request, for the record, just a statement.” 

“Okay,” Tim says, which as a response is something he’s just gonna let Kon interpret however he likes. He could just have a TV and console delivered to Cadmus for him, probably. Although he doesn’t actually know how big Kon’s room is, so in retrospect maybe that’ll be something to buy once they get to the stage where Kon’s picking out furniture for his new apartment/house/cul-de-sac. Easier to size and scale correctly that way, Tim figures. 

God, how big is Kon’s room? Is it just a room? Like a dorm or something? Is it at least actual normal bedroom-sized? 

. . . he really, really hopes it’s not a barracks situation. 

“I mean it,” Kon says as Tim pays for the goat and they leave the store. “Like, this was really cool of you, but you’ve definitely done enough. I didn’t do anything that special, you know?” 

“I feel like I’m the one who gets to value your effort in saving my life,” Tim says. “Like, monetarily and all. As a whole fiscal thing.” 

“It really wasn’t a big deal, though,” Kon insists. “Like, I didn’t risk my neck or anything. It wasn't even hard.” 

“You put in the time to learn how to do that with your TTK to begin with, even from halfway across the gallery floor,” Tim says. “Just because it was easy to do then doesn’t mean it was easy to learn to begin with. I think it’s really impressive that you even figured out you could do that to begin with.” 

“I mean–well, yeah, I guess,” Kon says, ducking his head as his face flushes again. “I just . . . like, it took a while to figure out how to do it right, definitely. So I wouldn’t say impressive.” 

“If you’re trying to be modest, maybe don’t lead with ‘I worked really hard on improving myself and it worked really well’,” Tim says, flashing him a wry little smile. Kon turns even redder, then grins sheepishly at him. 

“Look, TTK is badass, but it’s way less impressive than punching a giant asteroid into gravel,” he says. “Or superspeeding through all the bad guys in a microsecond.” 

“Why?” Tim asks, tilting his head. “Lots of people can punch an asteroid in half. You could break it down into its component parts and also make sure none of said parts escaped into the atmosphere or crashed any satellites. And you don’t need superspeed when you can keep the bad guys from even moving to begin with, right?” 

“Huh?” Kon says, looking–startled, a little. Tim’s been doing his research, but also just thinking–plus he's pretty sure that talking up TTK as a power is just about the best possible way to get Kon to be into Tim Drake for as long as possible, so . . . 

“I’m just saying, you seem really versatile. Like, you’re obviously not just a bruiser,” he says reasonably, though the more time he's spent trying to think about TTK lately, the more aware he's become that Kon tries very hard to be one whenever possible. Like–much more often than he actually should, in fact. “Your powers are really flexible, from what I’ve noticed. You can be a scalpel and a hammer. Possibly simultaneously, depending on your multitasking skills, I don’t really know how that works.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, the startled expression turning flustered even as he grins a little helplessly and ducks his head, twisting the handles of the shopping bag the clerk put the goat in around his fingers. “Uh, I mean, it depends, but . . . kinda, I guess.” 

Okay, well–he looks a little less boisterous and smug than Tim would've expected him to get over direct compliments to his TTK, honestly, but he does still seem flattered. Tim had just been prepared for annoying bragging and overblown pride as a reaction, not that helpless little grin Kon's currently trying to hide. So that's . . . weird, yeah. Huh. 

“Well, I think it's impressive,” he informs him with an easy shrug, and watches maybe a little bit too curiously as Kon's grin widens and he ducks his head lower. He looks so–not proud or arrogant, still, but pleased. 

It's definitely weird. 

Tim can't pretend there isn't an equally weird part of him that thinks it's cute, though. It's a little strange being the one hyping up the exact same superpower Kon's usually incapable of shutting up about while he tries to downplay it, but he guesses it's not that different from being the one carrying most of the bags right now. Just a little bit of a temporary role reversal while Kon's wearing a soft cashmere sweater instead of his usual heavy leather jacket and Tim's not wearing a mask. 

Well–at least not a domino, anyway. It gets a little more complicated going with the metaphorical definition, obviously. 

“I'm still buying you lunch whatever you say,” he says. “And a bigger wardrobe. You can't always show up in your superhero gear, somebody's gonna notice you eventually.” 

“Geez, man, how many times are you planning to see me in civvies?” Kon says, and if his accompanying laugh didn't sound a little forced, Tim would assume Kon was saying he was going to be bored of him before that was a concern. That laugh makes it sound more like Kon thinks it’s likelier that Tim is going to get bored of him, though. 

No, Tim is pretty sure that's wishful thinking on his part. It's too tempting to attribute evidence like that to mean something he'd like it to mean, is all. 

“I don't know,” he says, giving Kon a smile. “How many times are you planning to let me?” 

Kon stares at him for a moment, turns red, and then laughs self-consciously and looks away. 

His flirting standards are still extremely low, yeah. Thank god, because Tim absolutely sucks at this.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon #long post

[xinnabon]

he's the type to...!!!

#kazuha & albedo x gn!reader

note; "he's the type to" edition!!! but these are basically just wholesome, on crack, short, and definitely hcs that don't make sense at all.

requests are allowed to be sent but do take in mind that i will take longer than expected since i would require your patience over this. also no nsfw, i'm a minor.

i don't think this is proof read since i just wanted to post after months.

+KAZUHA

he's the type to dance like old married couples with you. life awaits him and now that you're here, many outcomes behold in the future to the two of you as time comes, as he wants you to be a part of it.

he's the type to wait for you. if you're going to be gone long, he'll support you and still stay loyal. why is that?

he's the type to sing for you. the questionable thing is, its like he's alluring you to sleep after a hard day. he has some poems he made and just make it in song form to just make you more sleepier just trying to understand what it means. i do wonder if it does matter.

he's the type to be like a knight. even though he is a noble himself, it is never a burden to sweep you up your feet. saving you and saving himself.

he's the type to lift your stuff. maybe when you try moving in with him, he'd do all sorts of things just to make you feel welcomed enough, or its just simply carrying certain grocery. who knows.

he's the type to write about you ACCIDENTALLY. maybe he'd reflect it over something he foresaw or just something he takes value of and inspired him. as he progresses, it eventually turns about you.

(previous bullet extended) "a promise is made out of true loyalty and devotion in committing to someone. either you spouse, friend, family, or even to someone as hard as rock to figure out, it is still a must to be able to harnest your ability and fulfil it. someday, somewhere, somehow, i'll have the will to promise to my own spouse. to make due with at the end of " he scraps it off. (bonus if he just keeps it somewhere instead)

he's the type to save drafts from his writing. he probably has a lot and likes looking at it since it sounds so direct and a few mistakes... just often poorly written or not understandable enough to comprehend.

he's the type to be caught rambling too much about a certain topic or interest by "reflection". he'd go all out and get sympathetic, just by thinking as well what other people would think about it. you sometimes tell him over and over again but maybe he can't stop because it may take advantage of him.

+ALBEDO

he's the type to never judge. even at times of being reckless, he wouldn't bother to pressure you further. he is someone to trust whenever you fear of one's opinion or possible judgement that can lead as an offense. no. he would never.

he's the type to doodle. whenever you come by while he is working or watching him work, he does horrible but cute doodles of the both of you while writing specific formulas or other materials he does. he thinks that it serves as entertainment for you.

he's the type to ramble and fidget around. again, working. you can hear him spitting out certain hypothesis, possibilities, formulas, or literally... anything. he likes it just because he thinks that it can help progress his mind more.

he's the type to be clueless. maybe the first time you were trying to court him, he thought you were just trying to hell regardless of the weird pick up lines you did to get his attention. you literally told him off that you liked him and the fact he only knew now at that moment.

he's the type to accidentally baby you. he's pretty much used to being with klee all the time to the point he is overly protective even if you doubt it. as in, he would ask if you are comfortable with him or not. maybe he does need a break.

he's the type to generally not know how to cook. he'd kept asking you how to just to spend some time and improve. all he probably knows is just to make daily every morning coffee.

he's the type to be less self-conscious around you. people are horribly terrifying to be with because it's either they'd want to test you or even aggravate you to your limit. not you. no. you'd never do that to him. he did thought about it but as timed leaned and further passed, with you, nothing will interfere.

he's the type to be your tutor. history or chemistry, he'd know. instant head aches just hearing him teach you but he doesn't bother to make an issue out of it. but of course, he'll be cut out in trying to go a more simpler level for you. (not an insult...)

he's the type to do crossword puzzles or just puzzles in general. he can be bored or just in a burnt out, and you know all about the cerebrum and testing your brain to become more knowledgeable per puzzle or anything. he liked asking you if you ever want to do some with him but maybe that's your fault for the lack of capacity you contain in your head that you refuse to at times.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #kazuha x reader #kazuha x gn!reader #kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha headcanons #kazuha hcs #albedo x gn!reader #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #albedo kreideprinz x gn!reader #albedo headcanons #albedo hcs #kazuha fluff #albedo fluff #genshin #gn!reader #fem!reader #male!reader #xinniereaders

[roodllle]

Baldur's Gate 3 Act 3 spoilers under the cut

I have not seen anyone talk about these notes you find about Gortash so I'm going to post them!

So if you go to the Flymm store you'll meet Enver's parents and you can learn by using the tadpole that they sold him to a warlock. But it seems that as he got older he went into the smuggling business and was already showing how controlling he will become. Looks like someone tried to warn other smugglers, but clearly that failed horribly.

You find this note under Franc Peartree's house and I'm going to read way too deeply in this note lol

"Weapon distribution continues like a parent saving their drowning child: swimmingly"

Ugh ok when I read this I thought 'does he just think constantly about how his parents threw him to the wolves. is it a subconscious thing??' I wouldn't be surprised if he was the type to think that he wound up better off without his parents and that he may have actually choose this life anyway. But in the back of his head he may also wonder what life would've been like if he had loving parents ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows

Then one of my fav lines:

"You are a treasure, and I should like to hold you in my arms and whisk you about! How you would laugh, Franc! Of course, people would say we're in love. And I do. I do love you, Franc. I love any man willing to birth a little more slithering, wet malice into the world. By sending out my weapons, putting them in groping, willing fingers, you've done just that."

Ok there are 3 things that came to my mind.

1. Queer Gortash? Is he being facetious?

2. Maybe Gortash is being chummy and him and Franc have known each other for awhile?

3. This is what really made me think though was that Gortash for all his tyranny has never been the type to revel in malice. Like ye he knows he's a tyrant but he wants slaves, he doesn't want more bloodshed in the streets nor does he usually talk so......poetically.

You know who does though? Orin. Especially since Franc ends up being a part of one of her assassinations. Get the guy to make more weapons then silence him?

Maybe? Maybe I've pegged Enver all wrong but who knows. I'm probably going to go back to Franc's house to see if my hypothesis is right.

And this last note I have has been my absolute fav that you can find when freeing Florrick. It's in one of the jail cells with a skeleton.

It was a very nice to initially refer to Enver as, Enver Flymm.

I don't know who Vance Farnol is but he seemed to know a crap ton about Gortash.

Farnol doesn't seem to know that at one point Enver was sold into warlock/demon slavery so maybe his POV is that he saw Enver as an urchin boy with his shitty parents.

Doesn't see him for awhile. Then sees him as a smuggler in the streets.

Enver joins a gang and that's when he changes his last name. Was it recommend as being a new member of the gang? Did people automatically think of the shoe shop when hearing Flymm? Was it more for Enver to distance himself from them?

He eventually becomes the Kingpin and seems to call himself an independent entrepreneur

Rivals? All my rivals are dead. I have not gotten to Gortash's boss fight yet but no one has to tell me this man can't actually fight. Is he probably good with a dagger and a fist fight? Possibly, but it's more likely he's good at weaseling out of situations and getting other people to do the dirty work.

Zhent's Days is Past, I missed that part in Act 1 where there's a sidequest to help those guys? So maybe I missed something in their hideout which would give their POV to this situation.

Then it seems he strikes a contract/deal with the god Bane and then strikes an Oath with Orin

"Not Even Everything is Enough" Someone never told Gortash that acquiring the world is never going to fill that empty black hole of a heart he has

And then we have him working with Kethric, getting the Gondians to serve him and then his most hammy line

Call me LORD Gortash

I love how there's so much depth to this character, makes me sad there aren't actually a lot more scenes with him. I know romancing him would be almost impossible but just having more scenes would be wonderful.

Anyways thanks for reading and share your thoughts!!

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #enver gortash #long post #roodle speaks #roodle talks bg3

[takearisk-xo]

I’ll give you an example…. I read this Reddit post about a gf who convinced her bf females shed skin during their periods (she was wearing a face mask at the time), and got her bf’s sister/mother/female friends in on the joke. They all went along with it or months and the poor guy thought it was true until he brought it up during dinner and his Dad was like WTF?! Who told you that??? Lmao. I could see Ginny pulling something like that and the little old gullible Harry completely falling for it.

Something along those lines…

P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEAUTIFUL!!! 🥳🎂🎊

okay this is shamelessly inspired by an old onion article lmaoo

There was a rock in Ginny's shower.

Not like a pebble, or a piece of gravel or something that would be equally confusing, but maybe easier to explain. This was a solid three inch by three inch, light gray, porous, circular rock in the corner of the bath.

Harry had eyed the thing curiously over the span of several weeks. It moved every so often, which made him think it was either sentient or useful in someway. It was also always a little bit damp, sometimes even sudsy, which made him think Ginny used it during her washing routine. This had him testing the hypothesis on himself, but scrubbing the rock down his forearm didn't result in any extra cleansing, it just fucking hurt. So, he ruled that one out.

Then he wondered if it didn't have some magical purpose, like a wizard shortcut, but he asked Ron, and his best mate didn't have a clue. Which brought Harry back to square one.

For about two months, the mystery of the stone in Ginny's shower remained just that. A mystery. Until one night, after joining her in the bath post spectacular sex, he finally worked up the nerve to ask.

Grabbing the rock from the shelf, he held it up between them. "What is this thing?"

Ginny frowned at him and blinked several times in confusion.

"Is it alive? Does it do anything? What do you use it for?"

Ginny sucked her lips between her teeth to bite back a smile. "What do you think I use it for?"

"I don't know!" Harry replied dramatically. "I thought maybe it was for the soaps and things, but its too rough to use as a sponge. But it moves around, so obviously you use it. Either that or it's taken up residence in your shower and you have a pet rock you've never told me about, which fine, whatever, but it can't just be here for no reason..."

Ginny nodded along, her grin growing harder and harder to hide.

"What?" Harry asked. "Is it something obvious and I'm being a muppet?"

"No," she interjected and her face contorted into something like sympathy.

"Well, then what?" He turned it end over end in his hands to examine it. "Because I can't figure it out. Does it absorb bad smells? Does it clean when we aren't looking? Does it ward off evil spirits?"

Snorting, Ginny plucked it from his grasp and stared up at him with wide eyes. "I'll tell you, alright, but you can't laugh."

"Why would I laugh?"

"It's sort of..." she hesitated, "superstition."

Harry pinched his brows together. "Like a normal superstition or a Luna superstition?"

She winced. "Luna superstition."

Smoothing his grimace, he listened to her explanation with steadily increasing wonder...

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

3 years later

"It's just getting worse," Hermione complained from her spot on the sofa. "I don't think I can keep going on like this. It's completely demoralizing."

"It's just a slump," Ginny answered. "It's not like you've had a ton of great options to begin with."

"Yes, that is the demoralizing part."

Harry backed away from the conversation slowly, unsure of how to engage with the subject matter of one of their best friend's, frankly miserable, dating life. Hermione had always been so sure of herself, and so independent, he hadn't ever considered that she truly wanted to date someone for real. After her and Ron had broken up, she seemed put off by the whole undertaking.

Which, fair. Harry had abhorred dating. So, he could relate.

Sometime recently, though, she must have decided to put herself out there. Only it seemed she wasn't impressed or particularly taken with any of her choices.

A spark of an idea curled through the back of his mind, and he turned toward the stairs to mount the steps two at a time. Charging into his and Ginny's bathroom, he found what he was looking for in moments. He supposed they could loan it out, at least until Hermione could get one of her own.

It wasn't like he and Ginny exactly needed it anymore.

Returning to the sitting room, Harry marched past the armchair and presented his gift with assured conviction.

Hermione stopped talking abruptly and looked at the stone in Harry's hand in unmitigated confusion. Meanwhile, Ginny made a choking noise and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Take it," Harry urged, but she still looked utterly bewildered. "It's-- well, it's not exactly incontestable, but it seemed to work for us. Maybe... you could give it a go?"

Hermione's expression didn't change, but she accepted Harry's gift anyway.

"A pumice stone?" she asked, looking to Ginny for clarification. Ginny, for her part, seemed unable to speak; her shoulders shaking and her cheeks as red as a tomato.

Harry took over the responsibility of explaining. "If you keep it damp and keep it close to where you... you know-- it'll bring you luck and... you know... the other things, too."

"Sorry, I'm not quite understanding." Hermione blinked several times very quickly. "You think a pumice stone brings you sex luck?"

"Yeah," Harry swallowed down his discomfort and shifted his gaze to Ginny in a plea for help. Only she was full on convulsing now, her entire upper body shaking with...

Laughter.

His realization must have showed on his face because Ginny lost all semblance of control and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, christ--" he swore loudly. "I can't believe this. What does it actually do?"

"It's for your feet!" Hermione cried, her own grin stretching across her face.

"Your what?" Harry replied, his horror growing with each second.

"Your feet!" Hermione said again, then she threw the rock at Ginny's middle. Ginny caught it and, if possible, laughed even harder.

"FEET?" Harry roared. "What does that do for your feet!?"

Ginny sucked in a gasping breath and cackled, "You scrub the callouses, you absolute moron!"

He threw his hands into the air in embarrassment and frustration. "Oh for fuck's sake, what else have you tricked me into?"

"No!" Ginny bellowed through tears of laughter. "Nothing, I swear!"

"I got one of those for Ron last Christmas!"

"You what!?" Ginny and Hermione shrieked at the same time.

"He and Padma had just--" Harry clenched his teeth, grinding his molars in mortification. "This is unbelievable. "

"Oh, Harry," Ginny keened. "I'm sorry, okay? But think of it this way, we didn't actually need luck at all!"

Shaking his head, he grumbled a few choice words under his breath and turned his back on the uncontrollable giggles still echoing from the couch.

#is this tpfy universe? #sure why the fuck not #the path from you #tpfy epilogue #anon #answered

[mabelstone]

Beloved

matt stone x reader

summary: chapter six of Professor Stone

word count: 3064

note: i tried to incorporate all of your ideas and my next post will be crediting you all! not super happy with the start but i hope the ending satisfies you as much as it did me 😌 next chap will be the final </3 hence why this was a longer one xx

also eric is eric stough (i know he's nothing like the character portrayed in this but go along with it) not cartman. i would like to make that VERY clear.

masterlist can be found here <3

Thankfully, figuring a way to make your taboo love affair work didn't involve having to drop calculus. You thanked your lucky stars for that one. You'd since had to relocate your... sessions though, as a few of your cocky classmates raised their suspicions in class.

It went a little something like:

"Alright, before you all finally get out of here, any further questions?" Your professor queried to the class, leaning carelessly against his desk as he always did. It was strange, his arrogance used to make you roll your eyes but now it caused your heart to squeeze painfully and your cheeks ache from smiling.

"Actually, yeah, I have a question." Someone from the back of the class spoke, sitting next to Trey and a few of their other friends, gaining the attention of most of the class. Your professor waited expectantly, unamused by the way Trey and his friends were suppressing laughter. "How come Y/N stays back after, like, every single class? It just seems a bit weird."

You felt your cheeks glow red as the eyes of your classmates turned to you instead, your heart rate beginning to pick up. Hushed murmurs rose throughout the room, your professor clearing his throat with arms folded across his chest. You quickly glanced over to him, but his eyes never moved from the boys at the back of the room. It was like power play for him, he was near impossible to crack. "Are you suggesting something? Because if you're going to be a smart ass in my class, you could at least have the balls to enlighten us."

You looked up at Matt with pleading eyes, praying he would just dismiss the class so you could all go home and forget about this. But then you remembered who was in charge here, and he was not looking at you. You sunk into your seat, overwhelmingly embarrassed as you heard Trey and his friends laughing. Your professor remaining uneasily calm as he approached the boys' table.

"Come on wise guy, tell me what your hypothesis is," he taunted, voice composed, almost condescending.

Another one of the males, Eric, spoke up in a similarly cocky tone, "well, we all think you're screwing her." The next part he said under his breath, making your heart sink and your stomach turn; "which is strange... we thought she was frigid 'cause she blue balled Trey a few times."

Just like that, Matt's fuse blew. "Everyone out, now." He commanded angrily, pupils blown, hands balled into fists. The class collected their things, piling out without hesitation. The boys from the back started packing up with shit-eating grins, evoking a very stern, "uh-uh. You three stay. You too, Y/N," from your professor.

You stayed in your seat, absolutely dumbfounded at what just happened. Trey looked just as embarrassed as you, not humoured by the situation anymore. He moved to sit in the chair next to you while Matt instructed his goons to move to the front as well.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Trey spoke hushed, sympathetically. He grabbed your hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over your soft skin as you sat frozen in disbelief. "I didn't know he was gonna say that, I'm-"

"Hands off her, Parker," your professor scolded, leaning his back against his desk with folded arms again. The four of you were lined up in front of him like high schoolers in detention, and you could tell Matt was secretly loving every moment of it.

"See, dude! He is fucking her," one of them snickered, the other (Dian was his name, maybe) joining in, throwing his hands up in defence.

"No shade, sir, everyone's thought about fucking her at least once." He continued, sizing you up with his eyes. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unable to make eye contact with anyone. Usually, you'd bite back, but when they were actually close to finding the truth - the truth that could get you expelled and your controversial love interest fired - you couldn't even think straight. "Trey's the only lucky one who's been close enough this year, at least. Oh, besides you, sir. But you don't mind sloppy seconds, right?"

He grabbed the cocky student's desk, ripping it out from in front of him and practically throwing it across the room. "You do not speak about her like that. And you definitely do not disrespect me like that," he shouted loud, veins bulging from his neck and forehead. "The next one of you to open your mouth will be sorry, and I promise that." Eric and Dian had stopped laughing at this point, realising they'd maybe taken it too far.

Matt straightened up, satisfied with the painful silence that filled the room now. He took a deep breath to compose himself, clearing his throat before continuing. "Apologise to her," he instructed, secretly humoured.

"I'm really so sorry, Y/N," Trey apologised immediately and Matt had to put all of his energy into not bursting out laughing. Instead he nodded to the next in line, Eric, with pursed lips and the perfect poker face.

"R-really?" Eric quirked with a raised brow, this whole situation feeling as degrading as Matt intended. "Um, sorry... Y/N."

"Again, like you mean it," your professor commanded, eyes dark, the faintest grin on his lips. He was loving this. It kind of turned you on.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Eric mumbled, refusing to make eye contact like a child who just got scolded by his mother in front of his friends. Satisfied, Matt's eyes narrowed in on Dian.

"I have nothing to apologise for, dude," Dian scoffed, leaning back in his seat to get a good look at you. "Y/N, is he at least any good?"

Again, your face flushed the deepest red, eyes wide, that sick feeling hitting you like a truck once more. You nearly choked on nothing, eyes immediately begging for Matt to speak up.

"Well done," your professor started with a wide grin, yet there was nothing friendly about his tone. "You'll be hearing from the dean, and you will be removed from my class for sexual harassment. You'll have to retake this class, which isn't until next year. That is, if the dean doesn't expel you on the spot. And trust me, I will try my hardest to make that happen."

"I didn't sexually harass anyone, fuckwit," Dian bit back, even his friends were now shocked at his behaviour. Little did your professor know, he bumped a few lines before coming to class, his inflated ego clearly a result of that. "Besides, I'm graduating next month and final grades have been released."

"You clearly don't understand how any of this works," Matt laughed, all eyes in the room on him. "Next month, you will watch all of your friends graduate, while you are held back another year, or hopefully, kicked out of your degree."

"I'll just drop out then," Dian shrugged. The look on Matt's face made you want to rip his clothes off then and there and have your way with him.

"Good, that'll save me a lot of work, and save you a lot of time as you're clearly not gonna go far in life," Matt seethed, waving his hand dismissively. "Get out of here, better to not waste time or resources on dead heads." The three of them got up and left, Dian spewing a stream of curse words and insults to your professor, only making him laugh incredulously as Dian's friends dragged him out of the theatre.

Once they left, Matt walked over to your desk, kneeling before you. You still had a shocked look on your face, unable to fathom what the fuck all of that was. "You okay, doll?" He spoke gently, a stark contrast to the tone he barked just seconds ago. You just nodded, blinking up at him expressionless. "As long as you're with me, nobody will get away with that."

"We aren't together though, Matt." You sighed with a hint of sadness in your tone as you continued, "I graduate in a month. What happens then? I wont be able to just stay after class."

"I've been thinking about that," he started, taking your hands in his, solemn glazing his eyes as he paused before speaking again. "I want you to be mine. I want everyone to know you're off limits."

You smiled weakly at this, reaching a hand up to cup his face. His attitude had completely changed. It was gentle and sincere, holding your hands as if they'd smash into pieces with any more applied pressure. "I wanna be yours too," you agreed, slowly leaning forward until your lips hovered millimetres away from one another. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, before pressing the warmest, sweetest kiss to your mouth, smiling into it.

"Come to my house," he offered against your lips. You pulled back for a moment, thinking it through. You looked up at him again, nodding sheepishly in agreement. You didn't know why the thought of being in his space made you so nervous. Maybe because it was all becoming too real?

You stayed back for a bit, listening to him talk to the dean on the phone, dramatising the altercation with Dian... he really wanted him expelled. He gave you a reassuring smile as he wrapped up the phone call, seemingly satisfied with himself. The way he smiled at you made your heart flutter. You hoped he felt it too.

"Appreciate it, sir. You too, bye-bye." He hung up with an exaggerated exhale, eyes wide, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips. "C'mere, bring your phone," he beckoned you over with his fingers, rolling back in his chair for you to sit in his lap. Once you did, you unlocked your phone and he took it from you, adding his number to your contacts. He made his contact name, "Matt ❤️," before laughing and erasing the heart. Once you took your phone back, you added the heart again, feeling him huff a soft breath against your neck.

"I want to shower before I come over, I better head off," you turned to face him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before standing up, being held back by a firm grip around your wrist.

"I'll walk you to your car," he offered, standing up as well as if to make the decision for you.

"Are you nuts?" You laughed, dismissing him with the shake of your head. "After that shit? I appreciate it, but I'm a big girl. I'll just see you later."

"No, fuck them." He retorted, grabbing his own belongings before turning off the lights. "For all anyone else knows, you're shaken up from the harassment, and would feel safer with a big, strong man with you."

"My knight in shining armour," you mocked with a faux swoon, earning an eye roll from your professor.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, turning off the lights in the hall before walking you out.

You didn’t speak much on the walk to your car, though a warm, secure feeling lingered in the space between you. You’d never been out of the theatre together and it felt almost domestic having him walk you to your car. It was pretty late as your class ended at 7pm; nearly everyone had left the campus, give or take a few.

“Text me, okay? I’ll be home in like, thirty minutes.” He opened your door for you, causing a pretty pink blush to paint across your cheeks. He was leaning one arm on the side of your car, head tilted down at you as you climbed in the front seat. He was wearing that black fitted button up that made your cervix beg to be assaulted. The contours of his face were illuminated under the single street light, his bicep bulging against the cotton confines of his shirt. You could've ripped his clothes off and taken him right then and there, but any chance of that happening was interrupted by a gentle tap of your car roof, and hushed words of, "see ya' later, pretty girl."

You went home, shaving every inch of your body, absolutely dousing yourself in perfume. You didn't have to put in work for uni - it was uni. This, however, was very different. This was your professors' home, the most intimate location you could possibly spend time together in. Hoping to seem nonchalant and disguise your anxiety, you threw on your prettiest sundress; a short lilac number with slightly frilled hemming. Your hair was in a simple half up half down style with minimal make up on. You thought you looked pretty. You hoped he would think the same.

The drive to Matt's place was quicker than you expected. Your heart was pounding so hard, you were worried you'd crack a rib. It was so bizarre to you that you were so nervous, despite the fact that you had slept with him more times than you could count on both hands. You raised a shaky fist to his large wooden front door, knocking twice. The door swung open almost immediately, and you were met with the gap-toothed smile you'd grown so fond of.

"Woah, you were just waiting by the door, huh?" You teased as he opened it for you, brazenly sizing you up with his eyes.

"It's not every night I get visitors this beautiful." He ushered you in to his home, which was beautiful and smelt so nice. "Hope you're hungry." You sat at the kitchen table that was set with two plates and two wine glasses. He'd prepared restaurant quality chicken and vegetables, and although quite a simple dish, it looked amazing, and the fact that he'd made it for you made you feel all fuzzy inside. You'd eat burnt toast if it meant you could share dinner with him.

A few glasses of wine in and you were all gooey inside. Everything was warm, everything made you happy.

"What?" He smiled, infatuated by the way your flushed cheeks accentuated your drunken smile, your sweet giggles the prettiest sound he'd heard all year.

"Nothin', just happy," you murmured, bringing the wine glass to your lips once again.

You were sitting beside one another on his couch, your legs entwined as he sat with his arms draped over the edge. He looked absolutely delectable; facial hair neatly grown out, short curls atop his head, wearing a navy blue t-shirt that hugged his muscles just right.

"I meant what I said earlier," he started, green eyes piercing your own, before continuing, "I want to be with you."

Your cheeks burned a deeper hue of red, this time not a result of your inebriation. "I wanna be with you too... but how? Can't you lose your job?"

"Not once you graduate," he shrugged nonchalantly, throwing back the remaining wine in his glass. "How long is that? Like, a month? I can wait."

You set your wine down on the coffee table across from you, moving to straddle him where he sat. His hands instinctively found your hips, your lips connecting gently, moving perfectly in sync. You moved your lips to his neck, gently sucking on the warm skin, marking him with dark purple prints of your lips. His warm fingers travelled up under your dress, already hooked into your underwear, urging you to remove the barrier between your flesh and his. You stood up, slipping them off as he unzipped his pants, sliding them down enough that he could free his already painfully hard cock.

You immediately climbed back onto him, feeling it occasionally bob against your heat. He'd had you riled up the whole time, and you'd clearly had the same effect on him. He spat on his fingers before gingerly spreading it over your entrance, allowing you to line yourself up and slowly sink down onto it. A lewd whimper escaped your flushed lips as you threw your head back, adjusting to the delicious stretch you felt. He let out a low groan of his own, his usual desperate, bruise producing touch replaced with the foreignly gentle guidance of your hips. Knees flat against the couch with your thighs clinging to either side of his, you pushed yourself up his length with your toes, sinking back down deeper this time. Your lips naturally found one another again, parting in invitation for his tongue. Your tongues wrestled in the most gentle manner, absolutely no haste in your actions. You took the time to explore each other, tasting every inch of your mouths as you shared soft breaths and satisfied moans. His hands trailed up your back, moving his lips to your collarbones where he placed soft kisses, tongue dragging along your warm skin. He reached his peak fast after you increased your pace, the warm wet feeling of your arousal sending him over the edge within minutes. The most holy sound you'd ever heard departed his lips as finished inside of you, his hooded eyes not leaving yours once.

He moved you onto your back in one swift motion, hiking your legs up over his shoulders as he knelt off the edge of the couch. He slipped two fingers into your sopping core with ease, languidly lapping at your sensitive clit. Your hands nestled in his hair, lightly raking through his curls as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His nose occasionally brushing the sensitive area as he so tenderly bought you to climax, your legs tensing around his face as a mirage of ecstasy washed over you. You mewled his name in the way he imagined an angel would, working you through your orgasm in a way you'd never experienced. You weren't sure you'd understood the term love making until now.

You wanted everyone to know how he made you feel, and he, the way you made him feel.

He pulled up his pants and climbed back onto the couch beside you, pulling your body flush against his, his pounding heart echoing in your ear as you caught your breath and came back to earth from cloud nine.

As you felt his heart rate slow against your cheek, he spoke up. "Stay the night. You can borrow some of my clothes."

You laughed to yourself before saying, "I hoped you'd ask. I packed clothes... they're in my car."

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #matt stone smut #professor!au #professor!matt stone

[sexyandcringe]

Warning(s): implied racism (NOT by tsumu or his fam!!), just reader havin dark thoughts, suggestive but not too much, talk about 'accident' kids but it's all in good fun.

Content: BROWN/BLACK READER! angsty a little bit but mostly comfort and fluff !!! Atsumu asking for consent <3

A/N: this is so, sooo badly written guys 😭 i did not bother to read it more than thrice and the ending is so cringe lmfao, so yeah whatever. I hope it makes someone smile, that's all i want!

It's a weird feeling.

The one you are feeling right now as Atsumu's arms hug you tight from behind, his breathe tickling your neck and little kisses are littered all over it. It's not unpleasant. It feels comfortable, safe.

You still can't believe that Atsumu is your boyfriend.

Like come on, let's be real. Why would anyone like him be in love with someone like you?

But Miya Atsumu convices you that he is utterly head over heels for you, and you trust him.

He has shown you multiple times proofs of his love to you and you are so grateful for everything he does for you. Your heart is filled with so much love for him it might explode soon.

You always believed that you were pretty enough to fuck, but not enough to make people stay in your life. People finding you physically attractive was nothing new to you, but someone wanting to spend the rest or life lives with you? That's something you never heard of (nor hoped for) in your entire life.

Until Atsumu came in.

He was kind to you. A kindness that wasn't allowed to you throughout your childhood. A kindness that makes your heart cry because what the hell did you do to deserve him?!

And now he is your boyfriend and he looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing in this world. He is staring at you now, his honey eyes searching for your soul, trying to understand what goes through your pretty little head.

You blush furiously.

"My parents want to meet you." he suddenly says.

You freeze.

Fear seeps through your veins and your hands start to shake. A multitude of thoughts run in your mind and you try try try to appear unbothered and cool. But It's impossible with Atsumu.

"If that is okay with you, of course!! I dont want to pressure you into this." he says, gesturing with his hands as to emphasize the words.

You look at him uncomfortably, not knowing how to explain your thoughts to him. Of course you want to meet his parents, you want to know everything about him and be everywhere he has ever been, you want to know the people he loves and and the people he hates.

But trauma isn't this easy to overcome and it's even harder when your hypothesis have been confirmed over and over again: parents hate you. It's not an opinion to you, it's something unavoidable, a fact that you can't delete from your mind.

In all your previous friendships and relationships, your friend's or partner's parents have disliked you and asked their son to be less close, less friendly, less loving to you. You hoped and hoped and hoped that maybe this time would be different, you acted like it didn't affect you, like you didn't care. you hoped that your ex's parents weren't like that, but you were a fool. You knew inside what you were expecting and eventually you got what you wanted to avoid: his parents subtly told him to stop inviting you over. It started like this. Later, they asked him to come home earlier, to spend less time with you, and slowly, very, very slowly, everything fell apart.

You always knew the reason of their behaviour, it was nothing new to you after all, but it hurt every single time. It hurt back then, and it still hurts now to imagine what would happen if you met Atsumu's parents. They would see you, act nice and welcoming, make you a warm coffee and offer you a snack, but the second you leave, they'll have a talk with Atsumu. Something along the lines "She's a nice girl.. But i think you could do better.." or "You should think thoroughly about this...".

All this, because you are different from them. Your skin colour is different, your culture is different, your existence is different.

Not even your personality could compensate that kind of gap; you don't even know how to talk to parents, you barely talk to your own.

How do you explain this to Atsumu? That you are terrified, absolutely horrified with the idea of his parents hating you and him walking away from you to not disappoint them.

You decide that you are tired of all this.

"Sure" you say against your will.

You don't want to lose Atsumu, you don't want your past to happen again, but you have no choice. You would rather end the pain here than wait more months or years in which you get closer to Atsumu, just to be left devasted again.

End it now, end it all.

The day comes way sooner than you thought, than you hoped, but Atsumu is eager for it, and you can't suppress a sad smile when you see him all happy and giggly as he drives you to his home.

You try your best not to ruin his mood, this is as much about him as you, he told you he never brought a girl to his house before, all his exes didn't last enough to make it until his house.

Soon, he is parked in his modern style house's garage and you can feel anxiety creeping up your spine.

His house is pretty, a yellow painting with plants and flowers hanging from the balcony and at the entrance of the door. He has little garden with a little dwarf statue holding a cat, some leaves flying messily from one of the small bushes.

He doesn't ring nor knocks (duh, it's his own house), and opens the door.

You notice little details hanging around the walls, like a picture of him with Osamu and their dad, little hands holding a volleyball and a big smile on their face. Or the wooden shelf where all the keys are stacked in a ceramic bowl. You recognize the decoration on it, a "prothesis" in black and golden.

Atsumu invites you into the living room, letting you sit on the couch as he goes to the kitchen, where you assume his parents might be.

"Papa, Ma-" you hear him talk, but he stops in his tracks and you understand the reason when you hear him yell speak again: "Please, we literally have a guest over, you can have your baby making session later, in your room!"

"I was JUST kissing her, you little shit. You act like you've never seen two lovers kiss!" a male's voice replies back.

"You two stop fighting! Where is she Tsumie?" another voice, this time coming from a female.

You giggle at the petname you discovered of Atsumu and you are sure you're going to call him like this like, forever.

At that your heart clenches again.

Forever huh? If only it was this easy.

You get up when you finally see his parents coming out of the kitchen, followed by their son who gives you a bright grin.

"Hello." you bow, "I'm Y/N, Atsumu's garfield. AH- UM I mean, I mean girlfriend!" you blush furiously and hear Atsumu's suppressed laughter. You want Mother Earth to suck you in herself and make you disappear forever.

His mother's laugh makes your tense shoulders loose, "Nice to meet you Garfield." she jokes as she hugs you. You blush again. You have already messed this up.

"Hello sir." you bow to his father and you are hoping that his reply won't be too dry. If your communication skills with parents are bad, specifically, with fathers, they are the worst. At least mothers tried to hide their disgust and hatred towards you, but the father never cared about any of that. Not like they were outwardly mean, but they would just give you a dryass greeting and get out of the house (or shut themselves in their room). You are terrified of his father hating you, but your mind blanks out when Atsumu's dad reaches out to give you a hug, too. "It's so good to meet you, sweetie." he says.

You nearly fall from the shock but regain your composure soon enough. What the hell. What's this? Decent human beings?!

"It's nice to meet you, too."

His father's smile is kind and you wonder if it's all an act, a disgusted face hidden behind an evil grin, but really, it looks so innocent and pure you can't really imagine this man ever being angry at anyone at all.

He speaks again, "Make yourself comfortable, me and Atsumu's mother are going to make you lunch, what would you like to eat?"

You put your hands in front of you "Anything is fine really! I'm not picky! As long as eggplants aren't involved!" You joke, "Thank you!"

His parents smile at you and leave some privacy to you and Atsumu, who is now taking you upstairs to his room.

Fuck, Atsumu's room. You are about to enter his room. Atsumu's room. Him and you, alone. On a bed. Fuck. You didn't even think about this, too worried about his parents.

When he opens the door, it's exactly how you imagined it. White and blue walls with a lot of posters messily arranged, two volleyballs sitting on the floor and a gaming pc. Well, it is how you imagined it but less messy, you assume he cleaned up today before picking you up. What a cutie.

"You can sit wherever you want." Atsumu takes his shoes off and falls on his bed; you follow him and sit on his lap. He grins. "Didn't know you were that eager fe' me."

"You said I can sit wherever I want, and I want to sit," you point at his lap, "here."

It's surprising how comfortable you feel around Atsumu, as if the interaction with his parents didn't happen just 30 seconds ago, as if you weren't making scenarios in your head about when he will, finally, leave you.

"They look nice, your parents." your voice is a whisper for only his ears to hear.

"They are nice, sweetheart."

"Well, I wouldn't have known, I'm scared of parents."

He laughs at that, thinking you are joking- or maybe not - cradling your face in his hands. "My love, I have been telling them about you since, like, forever, they literally already loved you even before knowing you. So don't get stupid ideas in your little brain."

"Okay first of all, my brain is not "little", you fuckface," you point to him, "and secondly, yeah... thanks for the comfort." God you are terrible with words.

He squishes your face and kisses your puckered lips, "I love you." he says between kisses and you can practically feel his love all over you. You want to stay like this forever. He lets his hands wander on your body, stopping just right over your hips, under your shirt. His kisses get more heated as he pulls you tighter against him. His lips are everywhere, on your lips, your chin, your collarbone, neck, shoulders, "Y/N..." he breathes "Can I?" he asks with his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse.

Thousands of thoughts are running in your head and you don't know what to do or say, you want him, yes, but not now, not like this while his parents are downstairs and it's your first day over his house. You hesitate, not knowing how he will react if you tell him that you want to wait.

You are still thinking what to reply when his hands stop their movement, his eyes searching for yours.

"Don't be scared. I won't be mad, nor disappointed if you are not ready."

And god you want to scream, cry and punch holes in every wall you see because this man is so, so gentle, so kind, so perfect. He is everything every girl could dream of. Just for you.

You hug him, play with his golden hair, "Atsumu, I love you, and trust me when I say that I want you. I just don't want to do it now, if that's okay with you. I want to wait."

Communication with Atsumu comes easy to you. Everyone thinks he is not considerate of people's feelings and is rude, arrogant and what not, but you have come to learn that with you he actually has high emotional intelligence, he understands you like no one else and he does not act like a child with anger issues like people think he is. You are grateful for that.

"No problem at all baby." is all he says before throwing you on the bed and tickling you until you can't breathe anymore.

You both play fight, cuddle, make out and look at his old album pictures until his mother knocks the door, inviting you to eat lunch.

You follow them downstairs, sitting on the table next to Atsumu and in front of his mother, his father sitting adjacent to you.

His parents ask you a lot of questions related to university/work, family, friends and how you and Atsumu met (you tell them he asked for your number first and you rejected, making Atsumu whine. "ya weren't s'pposed to tell em that Y/N!"); you get to know them better too, his father is really good at cooking apparently and you wonder if Osamu got it from him, and his mother used to play in a rock band back in university as the bassist. So fucking cool, you think.

"Why did you stop?" you ask her, hesitating, wondering if you might touch some sensitive subject.

She laughs, "because this little shit here" she slaps on her husband's shoulder, "got me these other two little shits in ma belly!"

Your eyes widen in shock. What the fuck? Did she just out loud told Atsumu (and Osamu) that he is a mistake?!

"Ma, stop saying that as if we're an accident!" Atsumu yells frustrated. "It's not what you think Y/N. They decided that on their own, so my mom left the band after they both agreed to move in together and start a family. I am not an accident, nor is Samu."

"You won't let me spice up my life story, will you?!"

"There's nothing spicy in telling your child that he is a mistake, what the hell-"

"Okay okay calm down you too! Stop acting like kids! Y/N is losing her mind." it's his father now talking and you scratch your head, a small confused smile on your face.

Is this how normal families joke around?

Anyways, they are all smiling and laughing so you assume that's normal chit chat in the Miya household, so you join them, making fun of Atsumu and the way he always licks his lips after drinking anything, the little "chip chip" sounds he make with his tongue and how he actually loves being made fun of (he's a masochist).

The day's over earlier than you expected and you can't actually believe you had a good time. You were laughing and making jokes with his parents and they did not look at you weird.

They invite you over again and after a few weeks you meet them again and this time you cook with them and it's fun.

You realize not all parents hate you and the past does not define you. You have every right to be happy and be loved for who you are. You feel loved and accepted and really, it's all you could have asked for in this life.

You truly are blessed.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

#atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x yn #haiku x reader #atsumu comfort #atsumu fluff #haiku fluff #angst to fluff #comfort #atsumu x brown reader #atsumu x black reader #haikyuu x brown reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu comfort #haikyuu x yn

[aclowntiny]

The Wind Again- Jongho x Paranormal Investigator!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Hello I just found the concept of Jongho as the token skeptic on a paranormal show really funny ok? Like, look me in the eyes & tell me he wouldn't be

Word Count: 2670 | Humor, Slightly Spoopy | Warnings: some gruesome references, mentions of death & ghosts (obviously lol), one scary thing happens but no graphic violence or anything like that :)

“So, this hospital was once, shall we say, home to some investigative medicine.”

“Don’t tell me it’s another one of those places that used to rip people’s teeth out and stuff.”

Jongho had, if forcibly, read up on mental hospitals of the old days, the cruelty of which was often said to leave residual energy behind in the form of the tortured patients. Quite obviously he did not like it, but then, who did? You yourself shuddered at the thought.

“No, not teeth or anything, but they did perform lobotomies, which were a new, unexplored procedure at this time. Things like lobotomies and bloodletting were still considered possible treatments to a host of conditions.”

“Of course they were.” Jongho was always like this on camera…and sometimes off. A running joke on your youtube channel was that you’d convert him someday, but he just didn’t take the idea of the spirits people had experienced remaining in tragic places seriously. Not even out of being a hardcore science-minded person or some other form of personal arrogance, but out of never experiencing it himself. “How did they think taking a chunk out of people’s brains wouldn’t completely destroy their working functions?”

“The working hypothesis was something along the lines of amputating a shattered limb- pruning off that which didn’t serve the host.”

“Why do you have to say it like that? You sound like a serial killer,” Jongho complained, looking up at you from his seated position as you erased some more writing of your whiteboard.

“If you haven’t noticed,” you jerked your head towards the tripod in the corner of the room with a giggle, “we’re kind of making a show here.”

“I know. You work so hard.”

“Then listen to your professor,” you teased, tapping his shoulder with the soft velcro bit on the tip of your dry erase marker, “we’re learning about spooooooky stuff.” At that drawn-out syllable, you started waving your arms around, swaying side to side and bouncing on your knees.

Shaking his head, Jongho lost it, cracking up as you soon joined him. Perfect cut point for the video.

“You really do too much,” he wheezed.

“My pleasure,” you did a V pose and winked into the camera.

Unspooling your microphone and headphones, you started to record voiceovers for your video intro and hospital overview. You and Jongho were going there the next week with all your equipment, so some of that footage would be covered with your voice.

A while later, you were still speaking as Jongho sat watching you.

“And they say that many of the patients are still seeking treatment…to this day,” you announced in what you think is an ominous voice.

Jongho, however, burst out laughing again.

“Aw, come on, what was wrong with that?”

“You expect people to take that seriously?”

“I was trying to be spooky!”

“I know,” he patted your shoulder between chuckles.

Now it’s your turn to look up at him from your seat. “Is your job on this show to be funny?”

He shrugged, smiling down at you. “We do get lots of footage that way, don’t we?”

“Yes, we do,” you smiled back.

~

“What will you do if you see an apparition for the first time?” You asked Jongho as you guys pull up to the looming, sprawling, ivy-snaked expanse that was your overnight destination.

“I’ll fight it.”

“You’re going to fight a ghost?”

“No, I’d just leave it alone. What’s it going to do to me?”

Honestly, it wasn’t even frustrating having Jongho around on investigations- almost all the fear you could have had at entering a dark, dilapidated, and condemned space said to house tortured souls faded in the face of companionship, especially drily hilarious companionship. Jongho was so assured that everything was fine, he was like a living shield from anything that could pop out of the shadows at you.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t creepy, though. “Oh geez, what was that?” Jumping slightly, you turned the camera down a doorway.

“Uh, the wind?” Jongho replied.

“It sounded like something getting slid along the floor!” You said, shaking your head as you took a tentative step forward.

“Yeah, probably all these leaves all over the floor when the wind hits them.” Squinting into his night vision camera, he pointed across the lobby. “Or that tarp flapping in the corner over there.”

Alright, you’d give him that one. “Ok, we can debunk that. But we should really keep going. Room 52 is a couple floors up.”

Room 52 was the token ‘most haunted room in the building’, the place where supposedly an especially violent patient’s life ended. It was said that people heard him tell them to get out and even saw him standing over them when they woke up in the middle of the night. Or just had sleep paralysis, Jongho had mused.

“Right, is that my room or yours?”

“Well, you’re a buff guy, he might be more intimidated by you.”

“So you want me in there to provoke him?” He asked with a teasing smile. “You want some content of me trying to box him?”

“Well, at least ask him some questions,” you shoved his shoulder gently, “you’ve got a recorder in your pocket.”

“I’ll ask him how many people he killed and if he wants to add one.”

“Now you’re becoming an expert,” you praised him, shuffling out of the lobby and into a wing of operating rooms.

“Is there anyone in here with me?” You posed into the cold, breezy room, which still had pale blue curtains racked around the rusty beds. The way they rustled faintly sent shivers down your spine.

You waited. Nothing was palpable or audible to you, but that’s why you had the little silver rectangle that was your recording device in your hand- it was far more sensitive than your ears would ever be, and more believable too. A few more heartbeats passed.

“If you’re here with me, can you tell me how you died? What they did to you here? Did you get hurt?”

This time, you counted out a full minute, rewinding the recording after sixty seconds passed. Silence, rustling, you asking questions… muttering?

“Jongho, does this sound like anything to you?” You extended the device out to your channel partner, who held it up to his own ear. "Like two words?"

“If it’s words you’re looking for,” he replied, “sounds like ‘hurt me’?”

“If it’s words you’re looking for,” you repeated with a snort, “let me listen again.”

“It’s mostly garbled air. That's just the closest in-context thing that sound could be."

"You're just mad you heard it," you singsonged with a cattish smile.

"I'm not mad, just-"

"Skeptical," you imitated at the same time as he spoke.

"Yeah," he agreed, taking a few steps deeper into the OR and addressing the spirits, "how did they hurt you?"

Silence. Dead silence. Not a whisper on the air.

Before your skin could even crawl at the room’s still, the quiet, the musty, nearly suffocating air wafting odors of bygone years…a slamming sound had you jumping out of it.

“That was a door!”

“It sure sounded like it,” Jongho responded calmly as you ran out of the room, blood pumping in your ears.

“You set up the hallway cam, right?”

“Of course,” he replied, jogging after you.

Careening around the world’s creepiest gurney, footsteps echoing loudly around the high ceilings, you swerved into the hallway. Sure enough, a checkup room had a closed door.

You pointed. Jongho nodded, walking over to pull the small camera off its mount at the other end of the hallway. He pressed a few buttons as you ran over to his side, reviewing the footage to see that very door suddenly swing shut.

“Boom!” You exclaimed. “Look at that. They slammed the door!”

“They could be blown shut, too, you know.”

“The wind again?” You laughed, expression widening with incredulity. “Not everything can be the wind, you know. If you’re going to argue against ghosts you need something better than just saying the wind every time.”

“Alright, fine,” Jongho shrugged and smiled back impishly, “turn on the spirit box and I’ll explain to any new viewers why that’s baloney.”

“Hey! The spirit box provides shifting frequencies for the souls to manipulate-”

“It scans radio channels and spits out sounds. It did music once, (y/n).”

“Yeah, spooky piano music!”

“It could’ve been jazz.”

You crossed your arms as he re-mounted the camera at the end of the hall. “Why do I bring you on my investigations?”

“Because you’re too scared to go alone and like my ghost voice.”

“Yeah, do the ghost voice, do it!”

Jongho let out a series of wails you couldn’t take seriously, voice wobbling. When he was done, you were doubled over.

“See? Who else can do that?”

~

“Holy crap! Holy crap holy crap-” Your heart slammed and lungs burned, but you didn’t care, you just kept running. Panic had completely overtaken you.

“What’s wrong?” You heard Jongho’s voice from the other room. You’d split up to send him to film in Room 52, to ask the fabled violent male spirit everyone called ‘Han’ after he spelled that out on a viral ouija board video why he hurt people, if he felt like a man when he did that. If he really did scratch people.

Little did he know what was going on in room 64. “I- it touched me,” you panted, voice weak from fear and exertion.

“What?”

“I was in Room 64, sitting in the exam chair next to the bed. I asked if anyone wanted to talk to me, but I didn’t hear anything.” You shuddered. “Suddenly I…I saw a shadow dart, and as I got up from the chair I felt a hand grab me. Nothing’s ever touched me before,” you breath.

Jongho’s face steeled. “What room was this?”

“S- sixty-four,” you stammered. You wished you could be brave like him, “it really felt like a hand.”

Before you could say anything else, you saw what of his figure you could from his headlamp spread out, arms opening. “Come here,” he said, voice serious but soft.

You stepped forward into his strong embrace, letting him pull you against the firm warmth of his chest. Maybe you were overreacting, but it was jarring to have a hand reach for you in the dark, unseen fingers clamoring toward your chest and shoulders. It felt cold. It felt wrong. Jongho was the opposite; heat radiated from his hoodie and you could feel his heartbeat against the side of you, steady and comforting. Living. Familiar. Gentle.

“I’m sorry, you must think I’m being a baby. Just making up stories again,” you mumbled into his chest.

You could feel his head shake from where it rested on yours. “No,” his voice reverberated through his chest and your contact point against it, “even if I don’t believe in ghosts, your fear is real. Something made you feel that way. I’m going to go give Room 64 a piece of my mind.”

And he did. He barged right in, asked who was in there and what they thought they were doing grabbing at innocent people. “Just like Han, does that make you feel like a man? Or whatever you are?” It turned out he heard a hiss in response, but decided mot to tell you until you reviewed the footage, safe and sound in your studio, because you still had overnight in there to go.

~

Jongho insisted you guys pitch your sleeping bags in the same room rather than him sleeping in Room 52. “I already got some sound from Han,” he reassured you, “we had our fun. I think we should stay together.”

His words made your heart give a little leap. Your wish was granted in spite of content, both of you rolling out your little spaces of slick softness on the floor of room 2B, a maternity ward that wasn’t known for any malicious activity, mostly just things moving or the occasional woman’s voice. Some people even said the presences in there felt light, almost protective, so despite his skepticism Jongho was all for 2B.

“You think the mothers will look after us?” You asked him as you laid down.

“I think you’ll feel safer in this room,” Jongho replied simply, not taking the bait, but speaking earnestly and fondly.

“Sorry, everyone, maybe we’ll hear babies crying or something though,” you spoke into the camera, “besides, you saw, I captured a shadow figure.”

“No more about the shadow figure,” Jongho chided, making you giggle a little at his motherly tut.

“Alright, good point,” you agree before turning out to the beds lining the room and setting your recorder on the floor, “if you have anything you want to say to us, if you’d like to please tell us your name, the recorder is right here, mamas.”

“And babies,” Jongho added. You weren’t sure if he was teasing or not, but you echoed him.

“Want to sing to the ghosts?”

Your ghost-hunting partner grinned. “And give you a free lullaby in the process?”

You snuggled a little deeper into your sleeping bag, listening to it rustle all around you as its warmth enveloped your body. “Maaaybe.”

Jongho couldn’t resist your cute tone, you could tell. Shaking his head with a smile, he scooted a little closer to your bag, sitting on top of his and singing one of his favorite ballads. You took in his side profile as he did so- man, he really was amazing, wasn’t he?

The only activity you got in that room was a small clip of what sounded like a little girl’s voice singing too. Right at the same time as a little light drifted near Jongho. That one just brought you a smile.

~

“‘Wow, that shadow totally looked like an arm! That’s so scary, (y/n), sorry your first apparition came that way!’” You read a comment off your channel page to Jongho. “See? They thought it looked like an arm grabbing out too.”

“I couldn’t really see anything, but I agree with the rest of their comment.”

“Oh, and look at this one,” you scrolled it up into his view, pointing at the screen, “‘The two of them are the cutest couple I swear’, with that emoji that looks like this (😫),” you imitated the face.

“I see it,” Jongho chuckled, shifting to rest his arm along the back of your office chair, “there’s a lot like that. Someone else said they watch us for the OTP, not the ghosts.”

“Oh, internet,” you rolled your eyes, sardonic grin widening, “apparently you were looking at me with heart eyes half the time, too.”

He snorted. “Someone else said the same thing about you! Something about it’s always the ones that bicker that are in love.”

Your eyes fell off the screen, drifting over from the harsh backlight to the sheen of its reflection in Jongho’s eyes. His bore right back into yours, those beautiful eyelashes fluttering. “Should we tell them?” You ask. “Our eighteen months is coming up soon.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jongho smirked before pulling your chair closer, leaning forward to completely seal the gap between you two. You followed suit, practically falling out of your chair and into his. When you pulled away, he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting you stay in his lap. “Besides, we might lose ratings if the OTP resolves now. I’ll just have to keep protecting you from all the spoooooky stuff.”

You smack his arm lightly. “That’s my line.”

“Well, you’re mine, so there,” he shot back, sticking his tongue out at you.

You just shook your head, heart feeling at ease in the amusement, in your little office, in Jongho’s hold. “I love you.”

“I love you too, even if you believe in campfire stories.”

For once, you didn’t take the bait, just wiggled a little deeper into his grasp and rested your hand over his.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #jongho #jongho x reader #jongho x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #spooky #fluff

[flamebringer0]

More About Nightwing Powers

I decided I had more to say about this post, so I reblogged it and wrote some more. It seems like when you do that Tumblr doesn't put the post into tag searches, so nobody can actually find it. I'm just going to copy the full text into a new post. I'm sorry if this spams anyone's feed, I just don't understand how this site works yet. I've never actually had a blog before.

-----

Ohhhh damn I just had another thought about this. This is my problem, I think about this stuff all the time and I keep coming up with new things I think are cool, but now that I've written all this out and published it for the whole world to see I can't change it so easily.

It's actually fine though. These thoughts are kind of a mix of things I think are canon but sufficiently non-obvious to be worth stating (All Nightwings have powers at hatching and then lose them), things that are definitely not canon but I feel like it doesn't mess with the story too much to change them (Prophets have a silver scale on their foreheads), and things that are ambiguous and I'm just filling in the blanks (fake Nightwing magic is based on their sense of smell). But there's a fourth category, which is things that I don't like about canon but changing them would basically entail writing a whole new story. I'm pretty sure this new idea falls into the latter category, so I wouldn't really have put it in that post anyway.

But let's explore the hypothesis that Tui T Sutherland and Scholastic collectively lose their minds and give me the rights to Wings of Fire, and also I have infinite time, resources and motivation to make my own adaptation of the story. Then what happens? Well, the first thing is obviously to change animus magic to be something other than total omnipotence, because omnipotent characters are the kind of albatross (tee hee) you don't want around your neck when you're trying to write a coherent story. And the second thing is to make it so the terrible Rainwing queens in book 3 are hereditary royalty and Glory is not, because I've never liked the valorisation of hereditary royalty in WOF (or in general), and that would be an easy way to subvert that. And THEN I would turn scavengers into lizard people, because I am a furry and I think that's cuter than making them humans. Lol.

But somewhere down the list would be the fact that I don't actually vibe with the idea that normal Nightwing seers/mind readers apparently have a built-in power limiter that varies randomly according to the specific individual, and the special gift you get for hatching under three moons is just to have that limiter set to 0. I don't like this because, first of all, the fact that it works like that just doesn't fit into my brain in a satisfactory way. Hatching under zero, one, or two full moons each results in a qualitatively different outcome, so in my mind, the third full moon should also do something qualitatively different. But it doesn't, it's just the same as two full moons but better. And then I'm left to assume that there are probably very rare cases of twice-moonborn Nightwings who have all the power, just because whatever secondary factors there are happened to line up in their favor? Weird.

But the more important reason is, I don't really like the idea of Clearsight as someone who has extraordinary power because she just hatched that way. Nor do I like the fact that the reasons for this are, on the one talon, unexplained (maybe inexplicable?), and on the other, not a function of who she is as a character. I think it would make for a much stronger motif if run-of-the-mill seer Clearsight were able to take down once-in-a-generation chosen one Darkstalker because she's diligent and doesn't believe in destiny while he's entitled and sure of his glorious future. At its core this feeling is actually the same thing as what I said about the Rainwing queens above: I just don't find it satisfying when the hero has some kind of special trait that makes them naturally better than everyone else. A villain can have that, but a hero I want to prove themselves through their own efforts. But that's explicitly not what happened in canon: Clearsight IS naturally more powerful than all the other seers, that's an essential part of her story, and changing it requires basically rewriting the books. I don't love it!

So anyway in the universe where I'm rewriting the books, here's a thought about how Nightwing powers might work. This partially contradicts what I wrote above, but I've decided I'm cool with that. I love contradicting myself actually, and maybe next week I'll contradict all of this again. There are no laws.

Some Nightwings are seers, some are mind readers, a few are both, and most are neither. But aside from the fact that an individual might or might not have these powers, they don't vary in strength from dragon to dragon. All seers have equally strong abilities, and all mind readers have equally strong abilities. But the strength of the abilities does vary: not per individual, but over time. Specifically, the current state of the moons affects the abilities of empowered Nightwings. On a hypothetical "darkest night" with three new moons, all Nightwings are effectively powerless. On the brightest night, empowered Nightwings experience the full strength of their abilities. Seers can easily look down many different paths into the distant future, and mind readers can easily examine any information in the mind of another dragon. Of course, the phases of the three moons are not synchronous. Most of the time, the moons are all in different states, and empowered Nightwings experience abilities somewhere in between those extremes.

Above, I said that the "strength" of Nightwing abilities doesn't really vary per dragon. Strength, as I use the term here, only refers to the raw potential to look into the future or into another dragon's mind. But different individuals do have different levels of adeptness when it comes to applying their abilities. On the brightest night, any seer can look with relative ease into the far future, down multiple timelines, examining subtle ripples of possibility. The rest of the time, most seers can't use their abilities on that level, but a particularly adept one can get closer. What makes one seer more adept than another? Well, it's really just training. If you're someone who, for whatever reason, keeps looking into the future, over time you'll get better at it, just like anything you keep doing. This is what sets Clearsight apart from her peers. She isn't more blessed by the moons than them, because no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other. Clearsight just looks into the future all the time, to a degree nobody else does. She works harder on her visions than any other seer, so her abilities are more advanced than those of any other seer.

There is one exception to the maxim "no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other". The special gift of the thrice-moonborn is that they are exempt from the cyclical waning and waxing of power with the phases of the moons. They hatch on the brightest night, and its power soaks into them and becomes permanently part of them. And so, they live as if every night is a brightest night. They always have the potential to see the ripples that spread into many distant futures, and they can always pluck any information they want out of another dragon's mind. What other Nightwings may train and train for, these dragons do as easily as they breathe.

There are few Nightwings who never dreamed as dragonets about what it would be like to have hatched under three full moons. How different their lives could have been from those of the common powerless Nightwing, or even ordinary seers and mind readers! And not just directly because of what they could see: the thrice-moonborn are almost inevitably beloved by their tribe, showered with attention, and elevated to the highest strata of society. Wouldn't that be nice, think the dragons who could have walked that path but for something as meaningless as the sky under which they hatched.

It's unsurprising that many covet that life, but it's not entirely as pleasant as they imagine. The adulation that surrounds the most powerful Nightwings is instrumental. As laid out in excruciating detail just behind the eyes of smiling dragons, few love them for who they are; many more love them for what they are. They will never have any interaction with friends or family that isn't fundamentally shaped by the asymmetrical power dynamic implied by their abilities. It's easy for a dragon in that situation to become profoundly isolated, especially without support. But the brightest night comes so rarely that most Nightwings who receive its gift will grow up with neither peers, nor mentors who can relate to these experiences. That many ultimately respond in unhealthy, self-destructive ways is a given; that the self-destruction of such powerful dragons often also destroys those around them is a recurring tragedy in the history of the tribe.

But it's not inevitable. No dragon's fate is actually written in the stars or sealed by the moons. It's always possible to choose a different future.

#the nice thing about making a blog is that now i can record the infinite cascade of thoughts im always having about night dragon moon magic #without feeling like im compelling any particular person to listen #next time ill talk about a different topic though #probably #wings of fire #wof #wof headcanon #headcanon #wof nightwing #nightwing #wof clearsight #clearsight #wof darkstalker #darkstalker

[holyrascalrebelalien]

Hypothesis: Lilith helped free Roo, so she is currently trying to fix her past mistake.

First of all, this is an extension of an old theory that I published in a YouTube video but never on Tumblr, here I leave it:

The original story of Adam and Eve occurred in the series, but in parallel with Lilith and Lucifer.

I once found a tweet that said that Vivzie had said in the past that she sometimes liked fanart and erroneous theories just to confuse the fandom, and checking her likes I saw that she liked a thread about a theory about Roo, more specifically to a part where it said Roo was imprisoned in the earth. NOW, what I want to keep in mind is that within the same thread there is a tweet that was not liked, which mentioned something about Roo influencing people to sin and that is why in Helluva Boss we were able to see things like murderous children. So what if the reason she didn't like that part is because it actually has to do with canon?

Continuing with that line, we can talk about the fact that Lucifer is probably a seraphim, judging by his 6 wings, this is curious because (in real life) it has always been debated what kind of angel Lucifer was before he fell (archangel , cherub, etc), then why make him specifically a seraphim?

We know that the evil (Roo) was contained before he gave the apple to Eve,so what if it was contained by a Seraph?, and if that is the case and a Seraph imprisoned Roo then who could have the power to free her? : ANOTHER SERAPHIM.

Maybe Roo, despite being contained, could see everything, and she found in Lucifer an opportunity to be freed, since she noticed his frustrations with respect to heaven. She could have tried to influence him to free her, but it was not possible due to Lucifer's angelic energy protecting him. So Roo would have to find another way to get to him, and that's where Lilith comes in.

So far, we know that Lilith escaped from the garden because Adam supposedly wanted to control her, but what if it wasn't her first choice? Maybe she first tried to ask heaven for help, but she was ignored, which is why she decided to run away from the garden. This could have been what made her connect and later fall in love with Lucifer, since they both understood each other. Assuming that was the case, perhaps when she learned of Eve's existence, it was something that really affected her, because while heaven had refused to listen to her, Adam had been pleased by giving him a new wife who depended on him (because she came from his rib) which could have been similar to the first woman, as if she were being replaced. Lilith, feeling betrayed, would finally draw the attention of Roo, who this time would manage to influence her because Lilith was a human, influencing her to convince her to make Lucifer give the fruit to Eve, a fruit where only Roo was contained, not the free will.

From here the theory has two paths:

1.Lilith knew about Roo's intentions, but she chose to help her as a kind of revenge against heaven and Adam.

2.Lilith was deceived and, like Lucifer, genuinely thought that giving the apple to Eve involved doing something good by giving free will (freedom from "heaven's control") to humanity (Roo convinced her that Eve had no free will).

In either case, the result is the same, Lilith convinces Lucifer to give the apple to Eve, to which the angel agrees without knowing that by doing so he would be freeing Roo.

In summary, the parallel with the biblical story of Adam and Eve is this:

1.The serpent that tempted Eve: Roo

2.Eve, who was manipulated by the serpent: Lilith

3.Adam, who was tempted by Eve after she was tempted: Lucifer.

Clarification: I consider that Lilith and Adam did have free will from the beginning because if that were not the case they could never have fought and Lilith would never have fled, on the other hand Eve could have been another case or at least the rebellious lovers could have thought that that was the case.

" So why does Lucifer and the beginning story say that the apple was free will?" Because Lucifer gave it to Eve thinking that was it.

Now let's go to my current aggregate.

Lilith feels guilty for having helped Roo in the past, so she decided to make a plan to finish her off. However, she doesn't want to involve her family in it because the last time she did it indirectly caused Lucifer to go into depression, so she is so afraid that the story will repeat itself, now not only with her husband but with her daughter. So she decided to do everything in secret. She started this and wants to finish it on her own, without help.

Maybe her resistance against heaven was a way to get the attention of the angels, since only Lucifer could contact them which means Lilith would have to tell him the truth. In the end, she got it when Adam started the exterminations, giving rise to the fact that at some point the two could meet. That was the moment where Lilith made a deal that would take her to heaven.

"But Lilith seemed calm in the season finale" the scene occurred minutes or hours after Charlie had already won, she had no reason to worry.

"Why didn't she intervene when Adam went to the hotel?" Maybe she didn't know it, or maybe she did it but she trusted that Charlie could handle it, or that Lucifer would figure things out if Charlie couldn't.

When Lute tells Lilith that she has to go back to hell to stop Charlie, she looks at her with anger because of the way she talked about her daughter and because going back there would mean putting her plans at risk.

In short, Lilith didn't want to abandon her family or hell, but she feels it's a necessary evil. She is a morally gray character who probably hates herself, only unlike Lucifer she does not isolate herself, but rather she feels that it's her responsibility to fix everything that went wrong in Eden as if she thought that everything that happened was only her fault, ignoring the responsibility that the others had.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lilith #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel eden #theory

[inkedroplets]

how many stars am i allowed to send!?!?!?!!!! ⭐️🌟💫

Just as many as you would like! So I picked a couple sections from Rich Girl at random because I could ramble way too much about all of my fics. Alex set the box back down on the desk and pushed it back towards Lena, daring her to take it. She crossed her arms tight over her chest, almost looking like she was trying to hug herself. “I don’t believe you, Lena.” Lena smiled or at least tried to. “I am a Luthor,” she said offhandedly. “Never a good idea to—” “You know that’s not what I meant,” Alex said testily. “I don’t believe you’d let me leave here without taking the suit.” “Believe what you like,” Lena said patiently, neither confirming nor denying Alex’s hypothesis. “Either way, it doesn’t matter.” “No?” “No,” Lena said and reached across the desk and took the box in her hand. She noticed the abrupt shift in Alex’s body language, the way her already tense shoulders hitched even higher than they already were. She cradled the box in her hand and held it out to Alex. “Because I know that you love Kara,” she said and pressed the box gently into Alex’s open hand. “And that to protect her, you’ll do whatever you need to. That there’s not a line you wouldn’t cross to do it.” So in Rich Girl when Lena makes Kara a new suit, the trouble of how to get it to Kara presented itself. Their relationship at the time was still in such a precarious and careful rebuilding phase that having Lena simply give it to her felt wholly anticlimactic and too grand of a gesture to not lead to some kind of reconciliation. Something that Lena is still(was) tiptoeing around. I tinkered with the idea of Lena giving Kara the suit while she was in her vigilante-guise. I actually wrote a little bit of it but it didn't feel right so the idea of Lena approaching Alex came to mind.

At that point in the story, Lena and Alex's relationship is not only non-existent there was the nasty matter of Alex trying to bug Lena's office. There's no love there between either of them but there is some common ground. They both love Kara and they have done or would do questionable things to make sure she was safe. It was a nice moment between the two of them and what led to Alex giving Lena the kind of silent go-ahead a little later. She might not like the idea of Lena and Kara together but there was a moment of understanding that let her at least be okay with it.

“Bruce told me about your mother,” Diana said delicately, the expression on her face a mixture of sadness and unease. “You called out for her while Bruce was synthesizing an antidote… Lena, you were only a child when it happened. You can’t blame yourself.” “I know I was. I know that logically there was probably nothing I could have done.  If I had run for help, if I had screamed until my throat was raw, if I had swam after her, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing but no matter how many times I try to tell myself that… It doesn’t make me feel any less responsible, any less guilty.” Something Bruce understands, she thought, thinking of the sorrowful kinship the two shared. How he understood better than most that some guilt, some wounds were ineffable. They remained. They persisted. Guilt wasn’t always logical and it often left deep scars.

“Even if I could portal out, I need to make sure the program never triggers. I can’t risk it, Bruce, and you know that.” She reached behind her neck, meaning to re-engage her helmet. “You’d do the same in my shoes. I need you to activate the Endgame protocol." He sighed and Lena couldn't help but notice how much like Alfred he sounded. "It needs your voice confirmation," he reminded her gently and she could hear him typing as well, the sounds of the keys being struck sounding somewhat echoey in the cave. It was a sound she would strangely miss. "Elizabeth." "I'll see that it's done, Lena," Bruce said. "To the letter."

I had a lot of fun drawing parallels between Bruce and Lena as the story went on beyond their bank accounts. Both of their lives are defined in a lot of ways by loss. Obviously they took far different paths but at their core, they're people who still feel a deep sense of guilt for not being able to save their parents. There's a sense of their parents names almost being taboo. They're not spoken aloud a lot even when they talk about them and I think it's simply because it's still too painful. So having Lena choose her mother's name for the protocol she would only activate when she thought she was about to die seemed right. To want to speak it one last time. A reminder of one of the biggest driving factors in her wanting to be a force for good.

#ask game #my writing #supercorp

[theweeklydiscourse]

Aaron Warner: A Defanged Romantic Lead

Don’t get me wrong, I actually love Aaron Warner’s characterization in Shatter Me. I like his unhinged attitude and how at times he comes off as a little delusional with his fantasies of a fucked up future together with Juliette. He’s like an obsessed scientist who caught a mermaid and is both in love with her while also being fascinated with her supernatural qualities and wanting to exploit her for them…BUT.

There’s this trope I’ve noticed that I’ve thought about for a while, but I’ve never actually written about it. Have you ever noticed that in certain stories involving fantasy or dystopian elements, the story will begin with a dangerous and edgy male lead with dubious morals but as soon as the author considers them as a romantic interest for the female lead they are completely and utterly defanged?

What I’m referring to is the tendency to characterize a male lead as an unhinged individual who engages in violent and dangerous behaviours in the first book only to completely backtrack on that characteristic in the second book. These male leads are often extremely well-liked by readers and are involved in equally well-liked romantic sub plots in their respective series. However, there is a certain dissonance to these types of characters that I believe cannot be ignored and I have an unconfirmed hypothesis on why this trope has become so popular. Aaron Warner is a perfect example of this trope (among many) and to illustrate my point, I’ll use examples from Shatter Me and Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi.

To make things clear, I do enjoy romances with darker themes, But, I absolutely cannot stand the lack of nerve in both of these narratives and their refusal to truly lean into the subjects they raise and how they cower at the implications of what they’ve written.

Anyways, here’s a page from my physical copy of Ignite Me from a few years ago.

I hate how Aaron’s explanation for his actions in Ignite Me amount to him getting huffy with Juliette for expressing her grievances with the way he handled things in Shatter Me. It’s just one justification after the other in rapid succession. Some of it it plausible, like his efforts to establish Juliette as an intimidating force in the Sector by making a public display of her abilities (albeit against her will) as well as belief that he was lifting her out of a poor situation. But, this is all marred by the final line: "I had no idea you hated me so much. That everything I tried to do to help you had come under such harsh scrutiny.” Because…really? You had no idea that Juliette harboured any negative feelings towards you after what you did? That your actions would come under “harsh scrutiny”?

Let’s go back to Shatter Me, shall we?

“We will always be enemies.” My voice is cracked into chips of ice. The words melt on my tongue. “I will never be what you want me to be.” (Shatter Me, Chapter 13)

I push him hard, slamming his back up against the door. “You disgust me.” I stare hard into his crystal-cold eyes. “You disgust me—” (Shatter Me, Chapter 18)

I meet Warner’s gaze. “If you ever put me in a position like that again, I will kill you. And I will enjoy it.” (Shatter Me, Chapter 25)

“You’re insane.” My hands are shaking but I hold the gun up to his face again. I need to get him out of my head. I need to remember what he’s done to me. “You want me to be a monster for you—” (Shatter Me, Chapter 27)

All of these lines are preceded or followed by Aaron insisting that he is helping Juliette or that she should appreciate the work he’s done to make her flourish. So it seems ridiculous that Aaron suddenly shocked and appalled that Juliette thinks of him as a bad person. While I do think that some of Aaron’s actions were justified given the circumstances, it is still laughable that the narrative expects me to buy into Aaron’s argument here. I imagine that this conversation is meant to recontextualise his actions and give him a chance to explain things from his side, but all it does is give him full permission to go on a self-righteous tangent.

This scene encapsulates my point about Aaron being defanged. It exists to portray him as a well-meaning but unaware benefactor to Juliette (unbeknownst to her) and seems to let him avoid taking responsibility for his actions. His claims that he was unaware of Juliette’s initial disgust and hatred towards him even though evidence suggests the complete opposite. How could you “have no idea” that Juliette felt that way about you when she was throwing it in your face in all of your interactions? The answer is that Mafi wanted to do the whole “I was hurting you to protect you” deal but muddles her continuity due to her need to make Aaron a “good” person at all costs. It’s an especially baffling character decision especially when Aaron claims to have an intimate knowledge of Juliette’s true feelings several times.

But that’s not the only thing. Aaron’s shock about Juliette thinking he was an unhinged creep suddenly frames Juliette in a negative light. Suddenly, she is at fault for being too judgmental and jumping to conclusions about his motives when he had deliberately misled her.

“Was that all a part of your plan, too? No wait, don’t tell me”—I hold up a hand—“that was just a simulation, right?”

Warner goes rigid.

He sits back; his jaw twitches. He looks at me with a mixture of sadness and rage in his eyes. “No,” he finally says, deathly soft. “That was not a simulation.”

“So you have no problem with that?” I ask him. “You have no regrets over killing a man for stealing a little extra food? For trying to survive, just like you?”

Warner bites down on his bottom lip for half a second. Clasps his hands in his lap. “Wow,” he says. “How quickly you jump to his defense.”

“He was an innocent man,” I tell him. “He didn’t deserve to die. Not for that. Not like that.”

“Seamus Fletcher,” Warner says calmly, staring into his open palms, “was a drunken bastard who was beating his wife and children. He hadn’t fed them in two weeks. He’d punched his nine-year-old daughter in the mouth, breaking her two front teeth and fracturing her jaw. He beat his pregnant wife so hard she lost the child. He had two other children, too,” he says. “A seven-year-old boy and a five- year-old girl.” A pause. “He broke both their arms.”

Judge me,” he says, “all you like. But I have no tolerance,” he says sharply, “for a man who beats his wife. No tolerance,” he says, “for a man who beats his children.” He’s breathing hard now. “Seamus Fletcher was murdering his family,” he says to me. “And you can call it whatever the hell you want to call it, but I will never regret killing a man who would bash his wife’s face into a wall. I will never regret killing a man who would punch his nine-year-old daughter in the mouth. I am not sorry,” he says. “And I will not apologize.” (Ignite Me, Chapter 7)

What a sick joke.

“GOD Juliette! I can’t believe that you’d view me as the kind of person who would kill an innocent man in cold blood! It’s not like I deliberately misled you and lied about my motives for killing him. It’s not as if I manufactured a scenario where I came off as a dangerous and cold-blooded psychopath and did nothing to make you think otherwise. Wow can’t believe that you’d be so judgmental.”

You know? It’s not lost on me that Aaron doesn’t even address the fact that Juliette was fed false information about Fletcher and gets so indignant about her assessments of him. I hate this part even more than the last. Take a look at the scene from Shatter Me they’re referring to and you’ll see what I mean.

I’m sorry but this is just stupid beyond words. It irritates me to my core that the narrative cannot commit to Aaron’s previous characterization and follow-through on it. It cheapens his development later on and it almost borders on gaslighting with how it tries to cast judgment on Juliette for questioning Aaron’s morality in the first place. And for what? All to make Aaron into a technical good guy who has all the aesthetics of a dark romantic lead, but none of the edge to match. He is dulled by this contradictory scene and made into this schlub who was just doing his best to help while implicitly accusing Juliette of jumping to conclusions and being too “harsh”.

Because this passage from Shatter Me proves that Juliette isn’t just pulling these accusations out of thin air, she has a legitimate reason to believe that Aaron is morally bankrupt, but the narrative doesn’t let her dwell in those conflicting emotions. Instead, it goes out of its way to make Aaron as noble and misunderstood as possible while shaming Juliette for buying into the LIES THAT HE HIMSELF TOLD HER!! The cherry on top of this scene is that she apologizes to him as he storms off in a huff.

It’s such an emotional cop out and it tries way too hard to soften Aaron’s actions to make him more digestible as a romantic lead.

#aaron warner #tbh the same can be said about ACOTAR and ACOMAF #shatter me #ignite me #ya fiction #tahereh mafi #warnette #juliette ferrars #bookish #booktok #bookblr #acomaf

[evacado3]

I have read a few Lookism posts on your profile and fell in love with every one of them, you write so great and it's refreshing for me to read, my day was brightened when I read it. I looked at the applications were open so I was encouraged to apply for something, I could be one of Vasco having a couple for quite some time already and that this is DG style Idol but no one from the Fiery Knuckles knows that, not even Jace. If you are uncomfortable with this ignore as you are more important 🌺🖤

First of all, thank you for saying this, I felt so loved. Second, this has got to be the hardest request ever, but since this made me feel so good about myself I have to satisfy my dear anon ❤︎ (hopefully you meant DG's stylist

And italics are Jace's thoughts!

JACEDAICHI CASE FILES

WHY ISN'T VASCO CRYING OVER GIRLS?

Jace has once again found a suspicious case and the man is ready to pull out his pair of glasses and his cape. He glanced over to Daniel's table again, where there's no doubt a few other girls trying to bug him.

Vasco has been acting real strange these days, not only did he not say 'j-jealous..d-aniel', but he's watching a kpop idol on his phone???

"He looks great today as well," he huffed proudly, staring at the screen. Jace stared at him horrified, w-what the?

"Vasco? Uhh, what are you watching?" Jace asked, hoping to hear maybe it was an ad?

"Huh? Oh, it's Dg. Right! Do you wanna come with me to his concert next week?" the boy beamed, taking out two very crumbled tickets, "I even got the backstage ones!"

The members of burn knuckles next to him looked a bit confused, nevertheless ask him if they could come too.

Jace's eyes twitched, slowly putting on his detective glasses, he swore to find out why the hell is Vasco acting weird!

==========

"I give up."

"What did you give up on? Anyways never give up Jace." Vasco said sternly, Jace sighed at his serious face.

The detective was losing hope as he found no reasons for Vasco's behavior in the past hour. Just what drug did you take this week? There was also a line was crying people in the back who have been exposed to their embarrassing secrets, things are never good when detective Jacedaichi comes out.

But then a light bulb lit up on top of his head, "I'll find out on the day of the concert!"

"Find out what?" Vasco tilted his head, the phone still playing dg's live performance.

"O-oh nothing haha, uh... what time is the concert?"

"Next week."

"I mean what day and time?"

"You can search online."

"You don't know it?"

"Just search it up!"

==========

"Vasco! You look amazing!" "Oh my gosh! Vasco! Did Jay style you again?"

Burn knuckles' cheering scared away a ton of people that were next to them in the concert hall. Yes, Vasco did bring at least five more members.

Jace had too many things to be confused about, how did he get the extra tickets? Aren't they very expensive? Why and how on earth is he dressed like an idol too?!

The concert started which gave Jace a few hours to figure out his hypothesis. But even when the concert was coming to an end, he was not even close to figuring anything out.

He chuckled a little, this might be the first case I've had unsolved. But Jace looked at his friends all having a great time screaming along with the girls next to them, he thought he would let this one go, just for now.

In the end, he cheered with the rest as Dg bowed, maybe kpop isn't that bad haha. Then Vasco excitedly shouted through the noisy crowd, "Let's go backstage!"

Two bodyguards came to assort them as they wandered around the hall, but for time first time in a while, Jace saw an anxious look on his best friend's face. "Is there something wrong?"

"Uh... Jace? I have a secret."

"HMM? A WHAT?" He shouted, we never keep anything from each other! What could be so important tha-

"Vascoooo~" a feminine voice called out. A young lady bolted towards the man and gave him a tight hug.

"Y/n! Sorry you had to get more tickets for me. Your styling today was amazing as always!" Vasco replied blushing.

...

THUMP

"JACE???"

Jace dropped to his knees, Vasco had a girlfriend? And he didn't tell me? It all made sense now, why Vasco kept commenting on Dg's clothes, why he binged all the concerts and had so many extra tickets. Vasco's girlfriend was Dg's stylist???

"Jace, I know you must be confu-"

"VASCO HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!""WOOOO GO BOSS" burn knuckles threw their leader up and down to celebrate. While more chaos continued, Jace felt the lady next to him, offering a hand.

"Hey, I'm y/n, Vasco's told me a whole lot about you Jace! Thank you for taking care of him. Are you okay by the way?" she smiled.

"It feels like the baby bird I've been raising my whole life found a mate, flew away leaving me old and lonely." he sighed.

Umm, he's a dramatic one isn't he, y/n thought. Jace took her hand nevertheless, stood up and sighed even more. Maybe that's why Vasco looked happier lately, this woman might not be so bad.

But then he saw his "baby bird" running towards her with a big smile and landed a kiss on her cheek, his eyes widened.

... THUMP

"Jace! Your knees are gonna be bruised!"

=============================

yes I took the chance to make another jacedaichi case files arc, kinda cool ey? Hope this is what you're looking for anon <3 though I feel like I accidently made Jace the main character lol

I came back to finish this like this week and found this request my only comfort in life, sorry for the wait and coming up next is Samuel nsfw ;)

#lookism vasco #lookism #webtoon lookism #lookism webtoon #fics #lookism x reader #lee euntae #vasco x reader #vasco lookism #vasco #jace lookism #jace park #lookism jace

[augustautumnmonarch]

Spy x Family HYPOTHESIS/THEORY - Shopkeeper's true identity.

I have a feeling that I know who shopkeepers true identity is and - bear with me through this, it's Twilight's father. The chapters I will use to support this hypothesis are the newest released chapter 65, chapter 62.1-62.2, Chapter 44, and subsequent moments throughout the chapters we have up to date.

Spoilers ahead for obvious reasons.

This realization I had came when reading chapter 65 - when Yor meets Melinda Desmond. Up until this point (and I'm assuming the talent will just not stop), Tatsuya Endo has done an amazing job in character design, specifically with showing familial relations. The most obvious of this technique being the striking resemblance between Yuri and Yor, and then in the most recent chapter where you couldn't help but notice the woman in the department store having Damian's same eyes the moment Yor catches her on the stairs...

It made me think back to reading chapter 62.1-62.2 when Twilight passed out and is remembering his past (and also what he said to Yor on their date in chapter 35 - that he can't really recall what his mother looked like). And then I also thought about chapter 44, where the character design for the shopkeeper was so striking. When first reading that chapter a month ago or so, I remember thinking to myself how eerie the shopkeeper looked, but I only dismissed it as a creative technique for character portrayal. Now I'm not so sure that's just it...

First (and foremost) piece of evidence: Twilight's father is never proven to be dead. We see how easy it was to believe that Twilight's childhood friends died in the warehouse explosion when they were kids, only to find out that years later they all became part of Westalis' military. Just before these explosions, Twilight's father left for business regarding the conflict between Ostania and Westalis at the border (this is all told primarily in chapters 62.1-62.2). They never specify if he was a victim to the bombings, and even Twilight himself as a child worries that his father won't be able to find them when he comes back home (I mean it's more of a dramatic rhetorical to show devastation, but honestly there's no other mentioned evidence of his death, just as there was none with his friends). In addition, if it is the case that his father is alive (which would otherwise stop my hypothesis short in its tracks), he would most likely be residing in Ostania for whatever anti-war business he seemed to be doing.

Second piece of evidence: the very striking jawline. As aforementioned, Tatsuya Endo really enjoys drawing resemblances from family members - but who's to say that's not a technique that can indicate more than familial ties? We can notice a similar profile between Twilight's profile as an adult and the vague-ish profile of his father in the 62.1-62.2 flashback chapters (straight nose when looking head on, the beaming smile + wide closed-mouthed smile, the way that his dad's chin rounds off from certain angles and then is more squared in others). Trying to go beyond those similarities is hard given to the forgetful nature of Twilight's recollections of his face, but the dramatic drop of his jawline - it's something I thought of the moment I realized this pattern of similar characteristics. I took screenshots of the shopkeepers jawline on page 5 of chapter 44 and compared it to Twilight's dad's jaw on page 8 of chapter 62.1 (right after he hits twilight), as well as page 12 (just before he beams when Twilights asks him for reference book funds). It's the lines that run down to the chin, long and dramatic in all scenarios. Sure the shopkeeper has a few more wrinkles, but that would account for age. I also took into consideration the dramatic eyes not really matching Twilight's, as well as the lacking resemblance of the rounded chin. It may be a stretch, but perhaps twilight has more of his mom's eyes, and the overcast shadow of the shopkeeper's hat distorts his face so that the reader doesn't immediately think "omg Twilight!" when seeing him in chapter 44. Also, on page 5, I can't help but see a Twilight-like intensive facial expression when the shopkeeper tests Yor's instincts with the garden shears.

Third piece of evidence: The structure of the garden itself- both physically and metaphorically. These clues may seem a bit moot especially considering their pertinence compared to the other arguments above, but I still feel like they are relevant in their own right. I will get the feebler one out of the way first: a glimpse of Twilight's childhood home. Please don't laugh at my reach, but a quick frame of the front porch on the bottom right of page 6 in chapter 62.1 shows a tiny but fairly well kept garden/flower bed. I feel like, if I'm right here, it's a call back to the shopkeeper's beautifully meticulous garden exhibited in chapter 44. The difference in size could account for the fact that Twilight's dad appeared to have to travel for business, but I would rather not dwell on the specifics of such a minor supportive argument. The other is the metaphorical structure of The Garden as a contract killing organization. Though Yor mainly kills "traitors of the East", she is never fully debriefed on why her targets need to be eliminated - what crimes they actually committed (or I guess the reader is just left out in that respect). The flash back in chapter 62.1-62.2 demonstrates that Twilight's dad aggressively fought for peace between nations - or at the very least did not completely pick sides. Sure the anti-war opinions were conveyed paradoxically through abusing Twilight, but the overall message that he does not believe in blind nationalism as a means of conducting international affairs, as an international business man himself. The shopkeeper has a similar approach, mainly targeting so called "traitors" within the east but occasionally doing dirty work for opposing organizations - as we see with rescue ops for the Gretcher family.

Yes it may seem like I have a lot of time on my hands to think about this but truth be told I'm procrastinating work. Also I've been up since 6am gathering evidence because I read chapter 65 last night and started speculating right before falling asleep. Goodness knows I cannot get my work done unless I purge myself of speculation. Please let me know if anyone agrees/disagrees/notices something I haven't - the two other people I know personally who read Spy x Family are behind in reading the chapters and I'd love to discuss :)

#spy x family #theories #sxf #spyxfamily #twilight #loid forger #shopkeeper

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Gender-related stereotypes being debunked and a woman denying the fact that she had been in love with her best friend as a teenager, but then admitting it (and also basically saying that she helped her get out of the situation she was in at the hospital).

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•I was obviously the one who decided for JJ and Will to live in Woodstock and for her to be a housewife. I gave her her talent for painting because that's what the character from "Boy crazy" she is playing in this story, Dom Barron, does for work.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @amerrymango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 20: Jennifer Jareau

The next morning, since they didn't have to travel for many hours to get there, David and Erin went to Jennifer's house.

The woman lived with her husband Will and their children in Woodstock, a small town near New York City.

She was a housewife, she had stopped working when, in 1981, she had gotten pregnant with her firstborn, but she had always liked to paint and she could also do it well, so in her free time, she did paintings which she then sold..

"Your paintings are so beautiful!" Erin couldn't help but say when she entered the room in which Jennifer usually drew, where the woman was at that moment.

"You didn't come here to buy one of them, right?" Jennifer responded, however, probably already understanding what the couple wanted to tell her.

"You always paint the same subject, an anonymous figure in a long fight against the world" David reasoned, looking at the paintings in the room one by one "It reminds you of Emily, right?".

"I already told you, she and I were just friends" Jennifer replied, clearly annoyed.

"You wouldn't think so, looking at your works" Erin noted "Let's make a hypothesis: if you had fallen in love with a woman who isn't and doesn't want to be like the others, what would you do?".

"I've never loved Emily!" Jennifer exclaimed, almost angry by that time "Not in that way, at least!".

"Then why did you save her?" David questioned "Man and woman, with the roles that are associated with these terms, are just words and stereotypes sometimes. They define what we can see, not what we have inside".

"Why are you telling me this?" Jennifer asked him, still annoyed by the conversation the couple was basically forcing her to have.

"It would be better to die than to change, always stay like this. Do you remember these words?" Dave told her "You had accepted Emily exactly as she was, without prejudice".

"Yes, she was...free" Jennifer sighed "I can only define her like this. And in the end, I decided to help her".

"You couldn't understand how you felt about her, but it was beautiful, right?" Erin guessed, remembering when, at the age of 15, she had met David, and how she had felt for the first few weeks whenever she had thought about him.

"You are right" Jennifer confirmed "I've only ever felt something like that with and for her. And it's for her that I did what I ended up doing".

Then, she finally began to reveal to Mr and Mrs Rossi the secret she had kept to herself, like a huge weight on her shoulders, for almost fourty years.