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#swampy speaks
swampthingking · 5 months
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“if tsc isn’t jerejean i don’t want it”
y’all are ungrateful shits — i can’t even imagine being so entitled and fucking weird about a story we never expected to get. nora is literally gifting this to us and y’all are only focused on a ship that was pulled from buttfuck nowhere ?????
i could say more but i do not care enough, weirdos like the people who say that are the reason nora took a break from socials. just pisses me off
— a fellow jerejean shipper but also someone who values the importance of jean’s story as HIS OWN person (something he was NEVER allowed to be)
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swampysmiles · 2 years
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kung pow penis these cramps
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meerlichts · 2 years
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Btw to anyone who isn’t aware yet I wrote this piano piece for my haunted house star wars au that’s how obsessed with it my brain is. I wrote a musical theme. For a fanfiction that isn’t published yet. Who am I.
Anyway listen to it and say nice things about it please <3 it is very simple but dear to my heart bc It’s mine and I made it it’s like my baby. My child. I am handing u my child please be nice
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strrwbrrryjam · 5 months
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watching, listening to a rain and wind storm: Good ✅️✅️✅️
being in a rain and wind storm:
Bad❌️❌️❌️
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Yo.
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supercantaloupe · 2 years
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omg the stylist gave me an undercut today i feel so light and jaunty and free
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felineinquiries · 2 years
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Happy Mothers Day, Ms. Kyle! I humbly request you give Isis (and the rest of your furbabies) an extra head pat from this cat loving stranger on the internet.
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Will do! Thank you darling.
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arolesbianism · 1 month
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The sadness and agony that emerges everytime I start a new oni save and am forced to remember what it's like to have a dupe without a hat only to put them in a hat because I think they'd look cute only to remember hats make half of them look bald but I spent this long maxing out a skill for them so Im too stubborn to back down and remove the hat
#rat rambles#oni posting#it wouldnt be nearly as much of a problem if dupes didnt all have the same like 3 faces that I suck ass at differenciating at a glance#the amount of times Ive mixed up my maes and nikolas makes me sad Im sorry mae no one should be mistaken with nikola#if I knew how to acess the animation files Id be tempted to make a mod to change it but I dont so Im not#but imagine how cute itd be if abe and nikola had their side spikes stiking out from the sides of their hats#couldnt save the super short haired ppl tho sorry ren ari travaldo turner ruby and probably others too#speaking of my ari I keep mistaking my hassan for ari even tho I dont have an ari yet sorry bestie#hes my main storage and cleaning guy which is the role ari is in my other save#anyways the new save is continuing to go well even if things have slowed down a lil#I managed to get my salt water guiser up and running even if its a very lazy approach of basically just cooling it in a tundra biome#but itll work for the time being until I can get plastic from either drekos or by tapping into my oil biome#Im going for drekos rn since I have a lot of them around but if I can get some atmo suits set up quick enough I might just dive for oil#mainly because I want natural gas for a gas range tbh especially since I started farming waterweed as well#along with duskcaps so I already have access to the ingredients for several high quality gas range foods if I can get one running#now that might be a bit hasty but also I havent actually set base on the teleporter planetoid yet and both the transporters are right there#and I managed to find the sender on my main planetoid so I could pretty easily send over high quality food as a nice start up#this mostly tempts me because theres also a distinct lack of particularly easy to farm plants in the immediate vicinity of the teleporter#which doesnt mean there Wont be food but it does mean that quite a bit of digging will likely need to be done#with is also made tricky by the lack of early settlement oxygen sources available#and while I could theoretically send oxygen from the main colony Id rly rather not until I can get a spom or two set up#which leaves oxyferns and rust as the main oxygen options there until reliable water is found#now one thing I could do is fully transition my main base to getting all its oxygen from a spom and then send the rest of my algae over#my main thing is just Im not rly sure where I wanna put my first spom#I just simply dont have as many options as Id like due to being surrounded by mostly swampy and jungle biomes#not that I couldnt build there or dig them out its just Id rly rather have atmo suits first#which since I am very early in my dreko farm will likely take a lil bit#which also brings up the problem of getting my metal refinery up and running so I dont have to keep using the rock crusher#Ill probably just slap one in one of my tundra biomes as a short term solution but long term Ill probably have to take a shot at a proper#industrial sauna once I get plastic
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senseichaos · 3 months
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IMAGINE...
FULL LENGTH IMAGINE!!
Alastor is low-key a psychopathic sadist in this so you've been warned
un-edited
Alastor predator / prey play.
In episode 3 you can see his room which half of is a forest-swamp-like interior. But what if it was a forest?
"Alright dear.. I'm going to ask you to run into this forest," he begins, teeth so largely grinning you can see his gums poking in it. His eyes glow darkly and he leans in slightly closer "And I'll chase after you, and when I catch you.."
His scleras turn a black and his horns begin to grow. You shiver, shirnking away from him as he speaks. His words come out distorted, a thin crackling accompanying them:
"I'll delight in your body, no matter if you scream and cry.. I'll tear every piece of innocence from your pliant figure many times until you admit that I own every piece of you.." he trails a single claw down my chin, causing you to gulp. His eyes send you into a sort of trance, their deep red shine making your knees weak.
"Sound good, my fawn?" He asks, eyes softening as he brushes his hands through your locks.
You nod. You shouldn't have. But you did.
And then he lets go of you, smiling manically as you shiver under his gaze. Alastor licks his lips, black tongue poking from his lips. You cry beneath your breath, already feeling a sort of terror go though your body even though he hasn't commanded you yet.
And then he does
"Run" he growls, and you're off.
You run despite your shaky legs and aching feet. You jump over logs and rake yourself through bushes. You don't once look behind you, and Alastor doesn't seem close by, anyway. So you take a sharp turn, almost tripping in the process as you run in that direction; I hope that this decision means that he'll be far behind. Perhaps you could even find a place to hide.
A sudden rustling comes from a bush to your left, and this stupidity causes you to look towards it as you run; with this uncaring look comes a consequence: you trip over a root on the swampy forest floor, making your body shoot forward and fall into the grass. You cough rather loudly, shaking your face as you attempt to get up.
Ouch.
Fuck. Your ankle is twisted to shit. How are you supposed to run? You look around wearily, dragging yourself across the ground by your arms to try to find any sort of hiding place in this barren wasteland of trees and small bushes.
Then your ears catch a noise.
It's stomping. You hear stomping.
"Little fawn? Come out for daddy.." Alastor says, walking nearby.
You feel a terror shoot from my body, and you shuffle away as fast as you can. To get behind anything. You see his silhouette to your left, so with a determination you crawl (or rather shimmy) behind the nearby bush.
Fuck, the bush rustles as your body passes by it, and Alastor is now looking in your direction completely. From his silhouette you can see that he isn't in his regular form. No. He has those large deer horns poking from his head, and his upper body is larger as is the rest of his body.
And there's that glow. That glow of his red irises and Yellow smile as he looks. As he looks in your direction. As he looks in your eyes.
You are suddenly appreciative that Alastor isn't in his full demon form. Or he may rip you shreds by his claws. He doesn't stalk towards you yet. He just smiles wider, not breaking his eye contact whatsoever as he just stands.
But before you could even pry yourself from his gaze, he's running.
You scream, trying to stand but your ankle buckles beneath you; this makes you fall on your chest as you glance wearily backwards. Just as you glance backwards, he's on top of you.
You scream rips through the air again, feeling searing pain go through you as he rips your clothes up to shreds. He doesn't care for the fact his claws leave scratches and marks against your back, all he cares for is ruining that innocence you harbour. When you whimper he aggressively pushes you down so your face hits the ground and your arms lay splayed next to you, laughing to himself as he tears your panties off of your mound harshly. He flips you over again, wanting to see your dirty face after it's been shoved into the ground.
"Little fawn.. how drenched you are~" Alastor purrs, dragging a clawed finger through your wetness. The sharpness of it just barely stimulates your clit, causing you to moan as you attempt to close your legs. Alastor doesn't like that. As soon as he sees you attempt this he forces his hands around your thighs, pushing them open until you cry out in pain from the force.
"Don't test me, little fawn.." He growls, his gums showing from his manic smile. It makes you aroused in a way you can't describe. For a moment he looks at your ankle, which is bruised from the fall you took. What you didn't expect is for him to grin at this, before shifting his eyes back to your own teary ones.
"you seemed to have twisted your ankle my dear!" He leans down his nose barely brushing against your own as his claws dig into your plush thighs. "That means you can't run away.. how convenient for me," Alastor growls, finally moving one of his hands from your thigh so he can wrap his hands around your neck, forcing you to tilt your head backwards. This gives him the opportunity to bite into the area where your neck meets your shoulder.
First he just licked the area with his black tongue, causing you to shiver at the way his gaunt body leans over you. Then he barely nibbles the area, making you squirm in a way that Alastor doesn't like. He digs his claws further into your thigh as a punishment.
And then without warning, he bites down, his teeth sinking completely into your shoulder. You scream out, tears falling down your cheeks as you shake from the sheer pain of it all. When he starts to withdraw his teeth you scream again, sobbing loudly as the pain shoots through your entire body.
When he fully withdraws, he just smiles, admiring his work. Blood pours from the wound quickly, and you could feel yourself losing a lot of blood.
Thankfully, Alastor loves you enough to not kill you. So he withdraws his hands from your neck and clicks his fingers, the blood moving back into your body before a bandage appears on it.
"Can't have my fawn bleed out, can i? What would Charlie say!?" He laughs, his black sclera darkening as he wipes away your tears. You whimper like a dog, lower lip wobbling as you open your eyes. You and Alastor just stare into each other's eyes for a moment, taking in each other and each other's flaws. He is smiling, you are crying.
What you fail to notice in this moment is Alastor unbuckling his pants, pulling his cock from the confines of his boxers and pants so his tip barely kisses against your entrance. When you notice this you whimper, trying to draw yourself away from him. Though Alastor just pulls you back by your twisted ankle, causing you to gasp in pain from the way he does it.
"Little fawn, there is no use in running away from me," he tilts his head, licking his lips as he presses the tip of his cock flush at your entrance. "You've been caught already, my dear!" He laughs, and without warning plunging his cock into your entrance.
You scream his name, moving your hands to cover your mouth. Alastor laughs, his black tentacles appearing from the ground to pry your hands from your mouth, holding them down. "It's much more fun when I can hear you scream for me, isn't it dear?" He laughs, drawing his hips back before thrusting harshly into your core again. You moan, teary eyes rolling backwards with a sort of agonizing pleasure.
"How tight you are, Little fawn," He says, pushing your thighs into your chest so he has better access to your holes. Each thrust he gives you makes you moan loudly, though Alastor doesn't even so much as grunt. He just grins as he watches your innocence leave you with a prideful gaze.
"S'too much! Fuck!" You yell, feeling his tip brush against your cervix painfully. Though Alastor only laughs, closing his eyes and laughing as he speeds up his thrusts. The tentacles around your arms tighten as you attempt to move them, Alastor's brows furrowing with his laughter.
You couldn't even understand his motive anymore. Is he enjoying having you beneath him? To the point where he humors it?
"Oh, how funny you are my little fawn," He says, moving one of his left hand from your thigh to wipe away a tear of laughter. As he puts his hand back on your thigh he tilts his head, speaking: "But I already said I don't care if you want to stop,"
"You already agreed to this, didn't you?" He says, and you scream with a painful pleasure.
"You wanted this."
His thrusts become manic in pace and you can't help but give up on moving. He's in complete control of you now. He's in control of your feelings, he's in control of your thoughts, he's in control of your body, he's in control of your pleasure. He owns you now. And there's nothing you can do but take it.
You'd take anything he'd give you.
With a whimper and a sob you cum on his cock, walls clamping around his length as he bites his lip. He watches your face the entire time, a snarky and prideful look on his features as you come loose around him.
Once you finish, here comes that horrible overstimulation that makes you gasp for air. How has he not came yet? You had no answer.
"My little fawn, too bad I cannot breed you. I guess this will just have to do.." he says, serving you one last harsh thrust as he empties his load inside of you. And he cums a lot, like- a lot a lot. You can feel your stomach bulging every so slightly with his cum as he leans down, kissing your cheek.
"Oh thank God," you sigh, happy that the sex is finally over.
"God!? Ha!" He laughs pulling out of you.
You begin to sit up, but Alastor's tentacles hold you down. He tuts, grinning as he presses his cock head against your anus.
"Who said we were done, Little Fawn?
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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13atoms · 23 days
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Handsome and a Genius (Spencer Reid x F!Bau!Reader)
Inspired by that one scene in x files where mulder stands like a himbo looking handsome and being the future of beauty. you know the one I mean
Summary: Spencer’s overactive brain draws more attention than it ought to on a case, and you see him in a new light. 3k words.
Contains: hostile witnesses, spencer being clueless (but an absolute babe), friends to lovers. (No offence to Florida im sure it’s very nice, reader is having a bad day, and I am far too British for that kind of heat)
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The sticky Florida air had long since plastered your clothes to your skin, leaving you short of breath and with the unpleasant feeling of damp hair against your scalp. The whole team had groaned at the revelation their next case would be in the outskirts of Miami, and as soon as the plane door opened you understood why.
You were hot, and grumpy. The salty, swampy air made you feel disgusting as you approached witness after witness. There was a serial killer operating in and around mobile home parks in the area, with the two most recent murders taking place in Royal Biscayne Trailer Park, both over a week ago. While the rest the team spread out across the other crime scenes, you and your partner had been dispatched to this one.
It was a world away from Quantico: sun-bleached, dense, full of plastic and palms instead of concrete and maples. Nonetheless, the principles remained the same no matter where you were. Take everything in, speak to everyone, suspect everyone. Stepping in and out of trailers gave you very little relief from the heat, although respite from the sun pounding down on you was a welcome break.
Dr Spencer Reid stood a short distance away, shielding his eyes with his hand as he contemplated the sea of trailers around him. He’d stared around as you drove into the park, something faraway in his eyes as he memorised every detail from the safety of the SUV.
Now he stood close to you, heads inches apart as he whispered so that only you could hear. He faced one way, you the other, and you could focus on his words knowing that Spencer was watching your back.
“These things all come equipped with the same locks, at least each model does. If you recognise the trailer home, you know how to pick it. It’s fairly trivial, for someone with some basic industry knowledge.”
You hummed through pursed lips, surveying the small crowd who had gathered to gawk at a pair of FBI officers on their turf.
“And that would be true of all of the trailer parks… we know he’s got a common MO.”
“Exactly.”
“You reckon someone in the industry, then? A salesman? Maintenance guy?”
Spencer rolled his neck, stared up at the sky for a moment. His curls were long at the moment, damp at the name of his neck, a little frizzy in the humidity.
“Not necessarily.”
“It’s quite specific,” you agreed, “anyone operating as a common thief around here would have the knowledge too. We could be talking about a classic escalation – burglar to home invader to murderer?”
His eyes snapped from you to his phone.
“I’ve asked Garcia to check out any patterns in robberies, home invasions… the locks are hardly scratched. We know he wears gloves, cleans his tools. This guy knows what he’s doing.”
You nodded, surveying the street again. The sun was glinting off of white plastic, making you squint. You worried for Spencer, the heat and the light wouldn’t be doing his headaches any good.
“You want me to take that?” Spencer was saying, and you snapped your attention in the direction he was gestured.
There was middle-aged man a little way forward of the crowd, shoulders hunched, hands entwined. Nervous. He had the tan of someone who lived here year-round, not a big believer in suncream, with tanlines when he removed his hat and glasses to speak to you.
“I’ve got it,” you murmured, and Spencer nodded.
It was an unspoken part of your partnership, that Spencer liked when you started conversations with witnesses. You liked that he trusted you, trusted your skills, never questioned whether you’d done the right thing when you spoke to people.
Instead he remained a short distance away, climbing up the front steps of someone’s home for a higher vantage point to survey the place.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. You said you’re with the FBI?”
The man had a tip, and it was an interesting one. A rumour spread throughout the HOA about someone trying the locks at night, the sound of metal against the doorways, silhouettes against frosted glass. A few people even had security camera footage, though nothing identifiable. It was great. You gave him your card, told him to get the footage to you asap.
It must be terrifying, you realised, to hear that kind of noise in the night. To be so close to danger, after a neighbour had been killed. The local sheriff’s department seemed frustrated by the interest the case was garnering – frankly you were amazed the story wasn’t bigger. There was no small amount of comforting involved in the conversation you had with the witness, and soon enough a few more people stepped forwards from the crowd. All seemed middle-aged, likely transplants to the sunshine state, and equally shaken.
When everyone’s stories had finished, they stood in silence for a moment. You frowned, noticing their gazes slightly misaligned.
Spencer.
He was stood at your shoulder, sharp gaze flickering across each face of the gathered residents.
“This is my colleague, Dr Reid. A few of you have already met, I believe.”
“You know,” he began, “the socio-economic factors influencing the way we think about crime in mobile home communities are fascinating. Often trailer parks are stereotyped negatively in the media, and because they are generally cheaper to live in than traditional housing estates, and that can foster a sense of shame or isolation for residents. Transient populations can also make community policing and security difficult, and anomalies in the patterns of everyday life become more difficult for people to subconsciously spot.”
You held your breath, and tried not to look worried at the reaction of the small crowd. Instead, you focused on Spencer. He was speaking with his hands a lot today.
“But I think the assumptions we tend to make about trailer parks completely overlook the very nature of living so close to your neighbours. There is a sense of community in living so closely, as evidenced by the conversations we’ve been having today. I’m not sure whether the killer understands that, or is exploiting the former theory that places like this allow for more deviations from the way we implement traditional security in communities. An unsub might hold some sort of resentment towards trailer parks, or some specific resident in his past, or perhaps he’s simply exploiting how incredibly easy it is to simply walk up to a mobile home and slip the lock open with a humble mass-produced lock pick.”
He was greeted with a sea of blank faces, littered with the occasional frown. Finally he looked to you. You caught the furrow of his brow, the way his shoulders hunched into himself, the clutching of his elbows to his body.
Oh, Spencer.
“That’s really interesting!” you tried to say, but Spencer was already backing away.
“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you to it.”
“Thank you, Dr Reid,” you called after him, as he fled, disappearing into the shade of a nearby trailer.
 Your heart ached for him a bit, but you pushed that aside. Instead, you had a sea of potentially offended retirees to keep on side.
“God, what I’d give for a brain like that,” your witness laughed, his linen shirt straining under the movement.
You couldn’t help smiling, a little relieved the tension had broken.
“It’s not often someone has a face like that and a good head on their shoulders,” one of the older ladies piped up.
You found yourself looking over your shoulder at Spencer, his profile sharp as he looked down the road, deep in thought.
“He’s certainly a rare breed,” you agreed fondly.
A number of the crowd were following your gaze, and someone in you wanted to snap them out of it. Stop them from staring.
“He actually has an eidetic memory. Once he’s seen or heard something, he remembers it perfectly, forever. It’s incredible.”
“Oh, my goodness! I can hardly remember my own email password!”
“I wouldn’t mind if he hung around me and talked like that all day, even if I didn’t understand a word of it. Though perhaps he could use a haircut…”
There was a chorus of agreement and various coo-ing which seemed to occupy the entire scale from grandmotherly to entirely inappropriate. You couldn’t help staring at Spencer a moment longer, wondering if he was truly oblivious, or simply pretending to be.
A rare breed.
You were certain you’d never met anyone else like him. Certain you felt like a better version of yourself in his company. That you’d trust him with your life, that you searched every room you entered until you saw him. Watched the elevator doors each time they opened, all morning, until Spencer walked in.
You were certain you’d felt giddy the first time Spencer insisted the two of you would work together, alone.
 “Imagine knowing that he’d remember everything, forever…” one of the women was saying, her eyebrows raised in a way you didn’t particularly enjoy.
You cleared your throat, and hooked one hand over the badge at your waist.
“Unless anyone has any further leads, we’d better be on our way…”
The group silenced, and watched you dutifully. You passed out a few more cards, reiterated how dedicated the team was to stopping this killer, and gave out a few promises that there would be a police presence after dark throughout the trailer park.
When the request for any further questions was met with more glances towards Spencer, you thanked your witness, and made a beeline for the car. After only a few seconds Spencer was beside you, jogging to catch up.
“All done?” he asked, and you smiled at the question.
“I think so.”
You started the engine and both waited with the doors open for the car to cool down. The department’s penchant for black SUVs was not helpful when the sun was so vicious. Feeling the heat themselves, the group of residents had dispersed into a few groups, wandering into one another’s homes to continue gossiping.
“God, I’m disgusting,” you lamented, “sorry for the sweat-smell. I might actually take a cold shower when we get to the hotel.”
Spencer was already waving you off, leaning into the car to mess with the AC. Through the open door you saw him groan at the heat, swiping a curl from his face.
“I’m afraid to raise my arms. It’s so humid, I’m not sure why anyone would retire here. High humidity aggravates a number of chronic conditions, especially respiratory ones, which are common in older people. Not to mention the skin cancer…”
“And it ruins your hair,” you teased.
Spencer faked a gasp, and reached for a damp, limp section of his hair.
“I mean, look at it!”
You laughed, and rolled your eyes at him, nothing but fondness settling warm and tight in your chest.
Surveying the road in front of you for one final time you saw a few curtain-twitchers, but no new faces. You climbed into the car, wincing at the heat. The seatbelt buckle was burning hot, and you swore as it burned your fingers.
“I always forget about that,” you grumbled, slamming the car door closed.
“You know, if you fasten your seatbelt after you get out, it stops the metal getting hot and burning you,” Reid offered, and you rolled your eyes at him again.
“Gosh, doesn’t it get exhausting being right about everything?”
Spencer went quiet, and all you heard was the click of his own belt. After a few moments the car was cool and bearable, and your lungs felt like they could finally move again. The sat-nav happily talked away, and you started stealing worried looks at your partner once you’d returned to properly-maintained roads.
“What you said out there was really good, do you mind if we go over it again once we get to the station? I think it’s worth exploring.”
“I shouldn’t have said it in front of them.”
He was right, but you didn’t have to heart to say anything. That was the thing which made your heart twinge about Spencer – he was so insecure, and yet so self-aware, it was the worst of both worlds. Being an expert in body language was a double-edged sword.
“I don’t think they minded. Did you hear those old ladies talking about your big brain?”
Spencer didn’t laugh. He turned himself towards the window, curled up with his hand beneath his jaw.
“They were very impressed. So was I, for what it’s worth. I think we’ll make some really good progress on this profile tonight.”
He hummed agreement. Watched a vista of blurred blue and green and white going past the window. The radio was turned down to a low hum, you could hardly hear it. Silence pierced its way through and sound of mumbled songs and road noise.
“Are you okay?” you asked finally.
“I’m okay.”
You sighed. Tapped the steering wheel. Sped a little to get through an intersection on amber.
 “Spencer…”
“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to ruin that for you I just… sometimes I think of things and it’s like I have to tell you.
“Spencer I’m not mad at you! Not at all! I think we’re both just tired, and too warm…”
He didn’t say anything.
“Honestly, I was worried you’d heard what those ladies were saying about you and gotten upset. It was inappropriate of them…”
“I didn’t hear anything. What did they say?”
Your gaze was focused on the road, but you met Spencer’s eye in the rear-view mirror as he watched your face.
“Just that you were a handsome young man. And that they wanted you to get a haircut, which I firmly disagree with…” you teased.
Spencer touched his hair self-consciously. He was still quite curled up, leaning away from you despite his interest in the conversation.
“That’s nice of them, I suppose.”
“‘Nice’ is an interesting way of putting it, but I’m glad you’re not upset about it.”
“When I was a kid, I read a book at the library about how to tell if you’re attractive. It was for women, all about makeup and stuff, but there was a section about what made guys hot. I could never figure it out, I just always thought I looked like an alien.”
The sudden change made you sit up straight, heart in your mouth as you rolled to a stop behind a queue of traffic.
“I think everyone feels like that sometimes. Being a teenager is really hard.”
 “I… yeah. I suppose so.”
“I always felt so jealous of the people who walked around looking perfect every day, confident that they were not. It just never came naturally to me.”
“Really? I assumed you were one of those girls in school who I’d be too afraid to talk to.”
You scoffed, and for a moment were struck by how little you really knew about one another. The way Spencer looked at you, looked it everyone, it felt as though he had an x-ray into every tiny detail of your life. How could he know, though?
“Of course not,” you laughed nervously.
You weren’t sure if you’d prefer Spencer knew the truth, or kept believing whatever he’d made up ini his head. You weren’t sure what any of this conversation meant. Traffic was moving. The precinct was two turns away.
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
He was teasing you. Finally he leant back in his seat, shoulders square to it, legs stretched out in the passenger footwell.
“Either way, I’m glad you can talk to me now. I’d miss it if you didn’t.”
“You might be the only person on this planet with that opinion.”
You took a moment to glance across the car at him, and caught a flash of a smile. He was joking. You released tension from your shoulders you hadn’t realised you were holding.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a handsome genius, just like Barbara said.”
“Her name was Barbara?” Reid laughed.
You shrugged, and took the final turn into the precinct parking lot.
“I’ve got no idea.”
Even with the SUV in park, the aircon no longer blasting away, neither of you moved. Not for a moment, at least. A moment of peace before the chaos all began again. Just the two of you. Wherever you were, with Spencer was your favourite place to be.
“You’re the same, you know. A genius. And handsome…”
You frowned.
“Pretty! Beautiful. You know what I mean.”
“Handsome?”
In truth, you didn’t care about the words. Not at all. Not when your heart was pounding at the realisation Spencer had his gaze fixed on your lips, his eyes soft and pupils blown wide.
“Beautiful,” Spencer repeated, “You know, in a lot of languages, handsome can be translated for men and women. The word itself doesn’t have a gender. Guapa, for example, in Spanish…”
You let him talk, on and on. You decided you wouldn’t kiss him yet, while your hair was matted in sweat and Spencer’s face was brushed with sunburn and embarrassment.
“Bella is more popular in South America, though, or bonita. My favourite is Japanese, though. Kirei. To be beautiful both inside and out…”
Only a few more moments passed before Morgan arrived and banged on the glass with a wide grin and a sweat-beaded brow, announcing a break in the case. You were sorry for the interruption.
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John Barnett had one of those bosses who seemed to spend most of his waking hours scheming to inflict humiliation upon him. He mocked him in weekly meetings whenever he dared contribute a thought, assigned a fellow manager to spy on him and spread rumors that he did not play nicely with others, and disciplined him for things like “using email to communicate” and pushing for flaws he found on planes to be fixed. “John is very knowledgeable almost to a fault, as it gets in the way at times when issues arise,” the boss wrote in one of his withering performance reviews, downgrading Barnett’s rating from a 40 all the way to a 15 in an assessment that cast the 26-year quality manager, who was known as “Swampy” for his easy Louisiana drawl, as an anal-retentive prick whose pedantry was antagonizing his colleagues. The truth, by contrast, was self-evident to anyone who spent five minutes in his presence: John Barnett, who raced cars in his spare time and seemed “high on life” according to one former colleague, was a “great, fun boss that loved Boeing and was willing to share his knowledge with everyone,” as one of his former quality technicians would later recall. But Swampy was mired in an institution that was in a perpetual state of unlearning all the lessons it had absorbed over a 90-year ascent to the pinnacle of global manufacturing. Like most neoliberal institutions, Boeing had come under the spell of a seductive new theory of “knowledge” that essentially reduced the whole concept to a combination of intellectual property, trade secrets, and data, discarding “thought” and “understanding” and “complex reasoning” possessed by a skilled and experienced workforce as essentially not worth the increased health care costs.
[...]
By now you know what became of Swampy: He was found dead a few weeks ago with a gunshot wound to his right temple, “apparently” self-inflicted, on what was meant to be the third day of a three-day deposition in his whistleblower case against his former employer; his amended complaint, which his lawyer released last week, is the basis for much of this story. It is worth noting here that Swampy’s former co-workers universally refuse to believe that their old colleague killed himself. One former co-worker who was terrified of speaking publicly went out of their way to tell me that they weren’t suicidal. “If I show up dead anytime soon, even if it’s a car accident or something, I’m a safe driver, please be on the lookout for foul play.” 
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swampthingking · 5 months
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tired of people shitting on fanfics and fanfic writers. i saw myself and what a relationship could look like for the first time from a fanfic. the main character was a trans man who hadn’t had top or bottom surgery and hadn’t started T, and to see him treated as a man and “idc if u have these parts, if you say you’re a man then you’re a man.” for his identity not be second guessed made me feel like wow i finally have hope that someone could accept me romantically, which was something i had been denying myself.
and that opened my mind to imagining what a relationship could look like with another person, because i used to be so spooked that nobody would be able to love me because i don’t “fit” into a binary (which is a larger topic that i have spoken about w my therapist and don’t feel like going into rn), and i had never seen ANYWHERE anyone who could write a character that i connected with on such a profound emotional level, even down to what the dysphoria felt like— that was emotional, and eye opening, and fucking relieving. like, i thought i was alone in this feeling, but obviously someone had to have felt the things i feel in order to write it so explicitly and so beautifully. and oh my god?? my experience as a trans person is valid and is here, on the internet, for people to read and to relate to, and to see in fiction as a character who is allowed to live and love and yeah.
and i could go on for ages, but for now i just have to settle for a thank you. so thank you to fanfic writers, if i could kiss all of you on the forehead i would
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swampysmiles · 2 years
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Just finished Bugsnax including DLC. I love Bugsnax. I miss Bugsnax. There is a nonzero chance I would do questionable, dare I say regrettable, things to get more Bugsnax.
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dragonheartstring360 · 7 months
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Some notes for anyone writing a character with glasses, from someone who wears glasses everyday:
- glasses need to come off before changing a shirt, unless it has a really big collar. Otherwise, glasses will get ripped off by said shirt collar.
- weather will affect how well you can see out of them, especially rain. Raindrops will dot glasses and it’s like trying to drive a car in the rain without working windshield wipers. Snow sometimes does this too, but not as bad, and lots of dust kicking up will make glasses dirty and foggy. If it’s humid enough (talking like swampy, Deep South levels, weather app says “90-100% humidity”), glasses will fog up when you step outside. If it’s crazy windy, glasses can fly off and the character should hold onto them or take them off and put them somewhere safe. They’ll usually get dirty or break in a pants pocket, so maybe have character carry around a sturdy glasses case if needed.
- not all materials are good for wiping glasses off. Some shirt materials just make it worse.
- if your character’s glasses are super dirty or smudged, they will be able to see it 24/7 as they look around and it’s annoying af.
- although glasses can keep things from getting in a character’s eyes (like something that’s been sprayed), it doesn’t protect our eyes all the time, especially if it’s coming at an angle or there’s a large amount. For that, you’d need actual safety glasses or goggles (and yes, they do make prescription goggles, but they’re not cheap).
- speaking of waves, for the love of god, DO NOT have your character swim with their glasses on. At best, they’ll get wet and they won’t be able to see. At worst, if they’re forced underwater or an ocean wave smacks them in the face, they’ll fly off and/or break.
- a crack in glasses is actually annoying af and makes it very hard to see.
- if a character’s face is wet, like from sweat or a ton of rain, their glasses will continuously slide down their nose and they’ll need to keep pushing them back up.
- lots of liquids other than water will make glasses opaque.
- glasses should be fitted pretty well to a person’s head. So if the character’s face is dry or there’s a moderate amount of wind, the “legs” that go behind their ears should be tight enough that they don’t just constantly fly off or slip down their nose. If they do, they’re too big (but obviously something a tornado will make them fly off).
- although I hate the whole “they took off their glasses and now they’re a ✨ model ✨” trope, people do tend to look very different with glasses on vs off - especially a character like Harry Potter who constantly wears their glasses. It’s not unrealistic that people who don’t know the character well (or even those who do, but just aren’t as quick) won’t recognize them at first without their glasses.
- as far as I know (correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never been able to do this), if a lens pops out of the frames, it can’t be popped back in by non-professionals without the right tools. The glasses are just done for.
- if your character has contacts in (or this is a psa for anyone who wears contacts), DO NOT have them rub their eyes. The contact will pop out and they’re very translucent and tiny, so trust me, it will just fall and be lost forever.
- being able to see clearly out of one eye and not the other (like with a broken/missing lens or a contact falling out) causes headaches.
- glasses are expensive af in the US (idk about other places). One time when I didn’t have vision insurance, an eye exam and two frames with lenses (I have blue eyes and very extreme light sensitivity, so have to have prescription sun glasses as well as regular glasses) cost over $900USD. If you want the special frames that become tinted and basically turn into sunglasses when you walk outside, it will cost extra.
- speaking of those lenses that become tinted when you walk outside, they take awhile to fade back to normal after you go back inside. Your character needs to be prepared to still be “wearing” sunglasses for the first 5-10 minutes after they walk inside.
- if a character is wearing contacts, they can wear normal sunglasses. If not, they’ll need special prescription sunglasses to be able to see. You cannot wear prescription sunglasses with contacts in or you won’t be able to see anything. Ever tried to look through your friend’s glasses and everything’s weird and warped and giving you a headache? That’s what it will look like.
- not exactly glasses related, but people with lighter colored eyes will always have worse light sensitivity than people with darker eyes. I have very blue eyes and looking up at the sky on a sunny day will literally make me see stars, and especially if I’m driving towards the sun while it’s setting, I have to have my sunglasses on or I literally will not be able to see and tears will be leaking out my eyes the whole way home.
- speaking of prescription sunglasses, unless your character can see pretty far without their glasses or they’re far sighted, you cannot just take prescription sunglasses off and still be able to see, especially while driving. You just have to deal with it and keep the sunglasses on and look like a Matrix wannabe if it gets cloudy or starts raining, or you have to do the super speedy Dance of Death where you’re still watching the road in front of you, taking off one pair of glasses and putting the other on super fast (which usually requires you to use your mouth to open and close things).
- GLASSES ARE FRAGILE. Seriously, a very petite person could sit in them and snap them in half. They’re not something you want your character just throwing around.
- there are varying levels of how well someone can see. There’s farsightedness and nearsightedness. Some people don’t have that much trouble and can see pretty far, so only wear their glasses as needed. But some people (aka moi) can genuinely only see a few inches in front of their face. Like if I ever lost my glasses or they broke, I’d be done for. I wouldn’t be able to work or drive or do anything around the house.
- glasses need to be replaced about once a year because of possible prescription changes or sometimes lenses losing their strength and becoming harder to see through. Trying to tough it out after long enough will give your character headaches/migraines and sore eyes from eye strain.
- some mascaras (especially thick ones) will smudge glasses when the character blinks. Same with false lashes (although they’ll brush instead of smudge). Usually less intense mascaras and shorter fake lash lengths are better.
- eye makeup is harder to see with glasses on.
- please, please, PLEASE stop using the whole “omg look how much prettier/more attractive they are without their glasses” trope. Not everyone’s eyes can handle contacts and some people prefer wearing their glasses. And it makes those of us who prefer glasses or have to wear them feel like shit, especially because there aren’t a lot of characters with glasses in media who don’t become the butt of a joke (ie the one wearing glasses is the “ugly duckling” for it like in princess diaries, or like Velma from scooby doo always losing them and patting around, or people who wear glasses will always be some sort of dorky/insufferable know it all).
- glasses come in all shapes, sizes, and colors and can be used to actually enhance a character’s style! Some of them even have magnetic frames that click in place over the simple pair, so have fun using glasses to build your character’s style.
- edit to add: no one ever purposely falls asleep with their glasses on. You will crush and break them when you roll around. However, if a character does accidentally fall asleep with them on, a love interest gently taking them off so they don’t wake them up and setting them on the table next to them can be a super cute moment.
- whoops thought of some more. Hair products, especially hairspray, can be a bitch to get off glasses and doesn’t always just rinse off with water. If they’re spraying anything, including dry shampoo, the glasses have gotta come off and get out of the line of fire first.
- hair can and will get caught in the little hinge by the legs and we do occasionally not notice till we take our glasses off and rip a hair out of our heads.
- be careful when you comb or brush, cuz if the glasses legs get caught in the brush or comb, it will be ripped off our face.
Hope this helps! May the writing gods bless your work 🤓
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ooffmlsorry · 5 months
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Baby, It's Cold Outside
A/N: I swear I'm gonna work on my prompt posts after this but it was unexpectedly cold today and I was not ready 😭
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Your feet crunched loudly underneath you. The snow comes up to your shines, forcing you to take high trudging steps. The wind is throwing snowflakes into your face, and your tears live short liquid lives before turning to ice on your cheeks.
So far, your first experience with snow is...hell on earth.
If hell froze over, that is.
The rest of the crew were completely comfortable in the weather, but what could you expect? The navigator was a polar bear after all. Someone had said something about part of the crew being from the frigid North Blue, which was suddenly beginning to make sense.
"There's gotta be something wrong with him," you muttered into the scarf wrap around the lower half of your face. It was swampy and damp against your skin, collecting snot and condensation from your breath. Disgusting. But at least it kept your lips and nose from going numb.
The plan was to rendezvous with the rest of the crew on the other side of the island. Bepo was leading the others across, and as the next best thing to a navigator, you were to guide and stay with Law to wait for them at this shabby excuse for a cabin.
You surveyed the white wasteland outside the window. A sheet of startling blue sky loomed overhead. Speaking of Law, you turned to look at your captain just slightly behind you. You couldn't read anything on his expression, but the fact that he didn't look nearly as miserable as you told you enough.
The shack you waited in had nothing except four walls and a fireplace--trees for firewood not included.
"How do you stand this?!" You say. "I'm so cooold!" The end of your whining turns into fake sob.
"Keep your eyes ahead, y/n-ya," Law says. The slight upward pull of his lips turns the neutral resting bitch face he normally has into an amused smirk.
You exaggerate your pout, "that's all I get?! This is my first time in the snow and it's awful! I'm freezing!"
Law chuckles. "It's not my fault you were raised on a tropical island."
Law only wears his hat, a coat--the same one you remember him wearing on Punk Hazard--and a pair of gloves. He's practically naked compared to your hat, gloves, scarf, dense coat, and wool snow pants.
You sigh loudly, your shoulders slump miserably in front of you. Law watches you with a twinkle in his eyes that causes warmth to bloom across your face.
The look in his eyes belays a fondness he normally hides.
He's enjoying this.
"How long do you think it will take the others to get here?" He asks you.
Business as usual, then. You walk back over to the shack's window to observe the sky.
"There's still no sign of clouds. In fact, snow blindness might be an issue for the rest of the crew. They're walking on a plateau, far away from any slopes so they won't have to work against any winds. I'd say three hours? Maybe a little less since some of you are cold weather natives." A draft blows cold winds through the cabin, making you shudder all the way down to your toes. "I can't wait until we literally blow this popsicle stand."
Law wraps his arms around you from behind. His front flush to your back and his chin resting on the top of your head.
"Oh?"
You lean in to him and stuff his hands into your front pockets so you can hold them. Gloved fingers intertwine. You have just enough room to lovingly stroke your thumb across the back of Law's hand. A wordless thank you.
"I won't listen to you complain about how cold it is for that long." Law's voice rumbles from. "I'll warm you up."
You watch the snow drift and dance in the wind through icy windows. You never knew the ice crystals people spoke of were truly crystals, until you saw them on the window. The last time you saw the sky this blue was back on your home island. Cloudless and comfortingly blue.
"It's actually kind of pretty," you say quietly.
"It can be," Law responds. He surprises you further by pressing a kiss to your temple. "You were too busy freezing your ass off to notice."
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mechaknight-98 · 17 days
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Beastmaster’s Bond I (NSFW) Ft Chaehyun
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Author’s note: well I guess it's a series now. I suppose that's what I get.
Part II, III, IV V
After the doctor's appointment, Marshmallow and I made our way back to the Zoo, greeted by surprised expressions from our fellow employees upon our arrival.
"Dino, why are you here? You're supposed to be off," Zahir exclaimed with raised eyebrows as I strolled alongside Marshmallow.
"Well, Chaehyun needed my assistance with the logistics of relocating 'her Magnamallo' from its former spot to here. But fret not, I've already sorted it out with her. I'll be taking my two days off as planned," I reassured Zahir, who nodded and wandered off. Chaehyun looked at me with surprise as we continued doing rounds with the others.
Chaehyun regarded me with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "That was smooth," she remarked, her smile betraying her astonishment.
"Years of practice. I've learned how to navigate tricky situations," I replied nonchalantly, earning a grin from Marshmallow.
"I can't believe I underestimated you," Chaehyun admitted.
"Trust me, you're not alone in that," I replied calmly.
"I'm just shocked you didn't call me Marshmallow. I was expecting you to stumble because I don't think you ever learned my name," Chaehyun quipped.
"I knew it the whole time," I responded
" So why Marshmallow then," Chaehyun asked with surprise.
I face her squish both of her cheeks and she responds, "Okay fair, but don't you want a skinnier girl? I mean..." she starts but before she can any further with that line of thinking I interject
"Don't finish that thought. I like you the way you are. You're sexy as fuck and if I didn't like you the way you are I wouldn't have fucked the shit out of you twice," I respond
"That was crass..., but thank you," Chaehyun responded with a smile.
I shrugged as we strolled through the zoo. Fortunately, the chaos from yesterday had subsided. Deciding to be prudent, I decided to check in on all my "sons" while we were there: Dino (our Glavernus), Sparky (our Astalos), Raptor (our Valstrax), Alucard, Swampy (our Almudron), and Frozone (our Goss Harag). Frozone, known for his perpetual chill demeanor (pun intended), was always the last stop.
Entering Frozone's enclosure, I found him looking considerably calmer than the molten rage he had exhibited the day before. Chaehyun trailed behind me, her eyes widening at the sight.
"I think this is the biggest Goss Harag I've ever seen," she exclaimed with excitement.
Frozone, with his ever-languid gaze, tracked our movements as we approached.
"Hey, Dad," his expression seemed to convey.
"Hey, son. Feeling better?" I inquired.
"Yeah, just tired. I see you've brought someone new," Frozone observed.
"Oh yeah, this is Chaehyun," I introduced.
Chaehyun waved enthusiastically. "Hi, buddy," she greeted, eliciting a mirrored wave from Frozone before he resumed his lounging.
"He seems so lethargic. Is he okay?" Chaehyun asked, concern evident in her voice.
"He's perfectly fine. Goss Harags aren't naturally active creatures, especially in warmer climates. Their low activity levels help conserve energy, particularly in intense intense climates they often find themselves in. If we had another male or female, he might be more lively, but for now, he's just chilling," I explained, reassuring Chaehyun.
"Don't make me do laps again, Dad. Please, I've been watching my weight," Frozone interjected with a glare.
"No need for laps, son. People just aren't accustomed to seeing such a big Goss Harag," I reassured, chuckling as Frozone gave me a thumbs-up.
"Wait, can you communicate with them?" Chaehyun asked, astonished by Frozone's behavior.
"No, they can't speak. But after spending so much time with them, I've come to understand their behaviors and gestures, so it's more like a silent conversation," I clarified.
"That's incredible. I've never seen megafauna that was so... chatty," Chaehyun remarked, her fascination evident.
"Well, they all are. You just have to be willing to listen," I reply.
"You are a marvel you know that right," Chaehyun asks as we leave the enclosure,
"Really How so," I ask confused as we head to Tony's enclosure.
"You're attachment to them as like family almost is remarkable and the reciprocation between you and them is amazing," Chaehyun responded as I opened the door.
"Well, I don't treat them like objects which I see a lot of people do.", I reply, "I raised all of them since their birth, They are my sons, whether adopted or not," I add firmly. Chaehyun steps back and her eyes narrow.
"be careful using that tone," She chides.
I turn back to her and my eyes narrow, "and why is that?" I ask with an even more fiercer tone. Chaehyun looks at me with eyes full of lust and desire.
"Because I'll make you a father again she says." she tries to steady her breath. She closes in on me and puts my hand in her pants near her clothed pussy. "Feel how wet I am! You keep talking recklessly and I will make you put a baby in me," she states erotically. I fight tooth and claw not to pounce on her.
"You're insatiable," I reply teasingly.
"And you're such a tease," Chaewon growls, as she moves to corner me putting a hand under her shirt and forcing me to cup her left breast as we stare at each other. I smell her arousal and it spikes mine. Our eyes unfocus as we fall deeper into our mutual brewing lust, but I fight my more primal urges and turn back to the task at hand.
We walk into the enclosure and Tony is growling at Chaehyun.
"Why is she here? she reeks of wildfire," I see Tony "says"
"We are working on bringing you in a playmate," I respond.
"What kind of Playmate?" Tony "asks"
"it's a surprise," I say as Tony "glares"
"What's he saying?" Chaehyun asks,
"Oh he smells female Magnamalo on you," I explain, "So he's a little apprehensive," I respond. Chaehyun nodded and then said to me
"I can leave." to further iterate her point walked out of the enclosure. That left me with a text from her saying to measure Tony and measure the enclosure. Annoyed I called her
"What is it dear," she asked cheerily.
"dear, at least by me dinner first," I teased
"ha ha very funny caveman," Chaehyun responds.
" I do try, but um Chaehyun I know Tony's measurements by heart, along with the enclosures. I did have to build it after all so that's not all you wanted me to do right," I respond to Chaehyun
"You built the enclosure,"
"Yep and oversaw most of the other ones except for megafauna that was directly given to specific crew members, but even then I was consulted for help," I answer
"Why didn't Old McDonald..." Chahyun started
"E, I, E, I, O" I interject
Why didn't he give you the keys to the place as it seems you did everything," Chaehyun asked confused
"Well if I am being honest from my perspective. he wanted to turn this into a major research facility along with a zoo. I hate labs so he hired someone who could do the lab parts and push his dream further," I reply
"That's funny my father was the opposite. He wanted to be closer to the megafauna and was always trying to connect with them on a primal level." Chaehyun responded
"So we are a match made in heaven then for our mentor dreams I guess," I joke
"I guess so," Chaehyun responds laughing.
"So we good?" I ask.
"Yeah. Let's go," Chaehyun says with a smile. We left to go to the main office where Chaehyun had already set up shop. As soon as we sit down Chaehyun gets a call. her eyes go wide as she takes it then the call ends.
"I need to go back to Korea. They need me to help hatch and Elder Dragon," Chaehyun said she looked at me with conflicted feelings, "How fast can you get a passport?" she added.
"Probably not fast enough," I responded
"Shit," Chaehyun growled.
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