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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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existedwithoutyourpermission · 9 months

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House of Chaos

just a random thing im writing since i was bored. reader is a tween in this!! ( 11 ) eventually will start growing up hehe :)

WARNINGS; Profanity (very few), mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, a knife is involved in this which hurts reader (a murderer is to the rescue!), mentions of scars.

╰┈➤ ❝ 3,2,1! ❞

As the bell rang, your class all stood up and so did you. Everyone fixed the chairs, put things back into their bags, and some of the cleaners this Friday went to get the brooms and vice versa.

You untied your forest green jacket on your waist and put it back on. Your items were already in your bag, so you didn't really have anything else to do. "Friday cleaners, NO LEAVING!" Your teacher stated as she caught the rest of them by the door just about to leave. You pass by her, and wave at her. And... they pass by. Paul and Brian, they are bullies from this school- which makes sense since there are always gonna be bullies in every school ever in the world. Brian is a brunet, with their blonde minion Paul. These idiots are the bane of everybody's existence in this school.

Paul grabbed the collar of your white blouse and dragged you along with them. Brian was at the side of Paul, their blue eyes like the ocean, stared at you.

Eventually ending at the back of school, they let you go and push you to the wall and you take your bag off and throwing it the nearest bench you saw. You rolled up the sleeves of your jacket and started fighting with them. It was the third time this week, you were starting to get annoyed. (The bruises and scars you get are getting a bit too much as well.)

.............

You kicked Paul's knee and kicked Brian in the crotch. Taking a run for it- you grab your bag, wearing it and quickly running. You were trying to fight back, but you of course could not do so without gaining bruises and scars. Brian also seemed to try and fight you with a pocket knife they somehow had in their pocket which resulted you with some slashes on your arms.

As you headed on over to the bike racks and grab your cream colored bike, you unrolled the sleeves of your jacket down. You ride on it and bike all the way to your house fast as you could.

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You stop near your house and grab the keys from your bag. You quickly get off and open the door with your keys. You put the keys back in your bag while kicking the door open.

"Hey! how was your school?" Stu (Who seemed to appear out of the ordinary always at some point. But you're already living with a bunch of crazy people so what do you expect?) leaned on the door frame. You turned to him, and he noticed your face. "Did you get into a fight again?" Stu laughed, "Well, its quite obvious. Does it look like someone would look like this if they had a accident on a bike?" You joked. Hannibal walked into the living room and sighed. You two stared at him, "Well? What are you looking at me for? Come on." He said, agitation clear in his voice. You ran to him and followed. On the way, you asked him where the others are, "Some of them are in the kitchen, the rest, well.. I am.. unsure." You sighed and finally arrived at the kitchen.

"Sit down." Hannibal said. You sat at the long table as others were chit-chatting or eating, playing games.. with 'Riddler'- or- Edward, talking with Jonathan next to you. They lived in the same city but had never known about each other and only considered that what you said about them being possibly in alternate universes a real thing. Edward tilted his head to look at your ruined face. Jonathan noticed this and turned his head. They examined your face with only their eyes. Hannibal sits on the other free chair next to you and grabbed your chin, making you face him as he started to treat the scars.

"Take that jacket off as well...." Sighed Hannibal. You took the jacket off, as said to do so. Your arm is revealed to have scratches, more bruises and have a bit of blood and slashes from Brian's knife. He simply sighed as you hissed and cursed under your breath. "You are going to need switch schools if this keeps happening and if those two keep doing this." Jonathan added and snickered. You giggled a bit but abruptly stopped and hissed once more as you felt Hannibal going back to treating your wounds.

It took a while to finish but its done anyway. You are happy because its actually Friday (Which meant free time!). You are just on your bed watching tv and eating sunny side up eggs with rice in a cute little Kirby bowl you had found whilst going outside with Stu for shopping one time.

You heard a knock on your door and put your bowl down on the bed sheets and hurried on over to the door and opened it. "YN, Get dressed, we're going to the mall. I mean- that is if you want to- of course." Billy said. "Sure, why not?" You smiled at the guy who was friends with Stu. He patted your head and said goodbye as he went to what you assume was probably to his room.

You quickly finished your food, and when you finished, you had turned the tv off and unplugged and hurried over to your epic walk-in wardrobe.

You decided to wear a blouse that was black and had little space designs, and beige colored slacks. You wanted to pair it with the dark navy blue coat you had, so you threw that on. You wore white socks and slipped on your loafers that was completely black.

You snatch a VS Bombshell perfume from your drawer and sprayed it on yourself. It smelt amazing. You put the perfume back in the drawer and walk out of the wardrobe and out your room.

Heading into the living room, some of them had already changed and chatted while some haven't which you were sure they did not want to go. You spotted the troubled teen guy Donnie (this is jake gyllenhaal donnie). Donnie wore your grey headphones he had borrowed from you and you decided to sit next to the guy 5 years older than you. He noticed you and took the headphones off. "Oh, hi! You look great. You going with us?" He asked and you nodded. He wore a simple dark grey turtleneck sweater with white slacks, wearing black oxford shoes. "Let me guess, Hannibal?" You both chuckled and he shook his head. "Nope, tried doing it myself this time, I think I did good."

You and the others went out and all of you couldn't fit in one whole car of course, so all of you guys of course split in different cars (with some of the others biking or other ways of transportation) . You were with John in his Mustang. He was a hitman. Former, but had been forced back to it. But this is another universe, he had stopped, a fresh start. You breathed on the window and drew random things on it. Eventually, you guys ended up in traffic, and saw some familiar cars and realized some of them belong to the others. There was a Bentley pulling up next to you both and recognized the man driving the car. "Oh, John. Look- its Hanni." John turned to see him. You were waving at him and he waved back, Jonathan was next to Hannibal, with Donnie and Billy at the back and you waved at them as well. They waved back. They looked away from you and you just sunk in the seat. Your gaze wandered to John.

You felt a bit sleepy so you decided to nap for a bit. "John?" He turned to you, "I'm just gonna go to sleep..." He smiled and nodded, patting your head. He was a man of few words. Smiling at him, you stretched and yawned, fixing your posture to a more comfortable one. Your eyes started to feel heavy and that was it.

You got woken up by shaking from a large hand of a adult, "Hey, kid, wake up." You blinked a few times and you saw John. "Have we already arrived?" John nods and you rub your eyes and stepped out.

You stretched and yawned. You felt a rush of electric energy strike your sleepy trance out of you. You walked over to John and happily follow him to the entrance inside the mall. "Where do we meet up again?" You asked John "Uh-... It was the arcade." He answered. You nodded and you both went to find the arcade and saw the others nearby the entrance of the arcade. "Oh- There they are!" Stu said pointing at you two as you walked closer to them.

You jumped up in excitement seeing Mike, Eleven, Lucas, Max, Dustin, Erica, and the teens of Hawkins. (Jonathan, Steve, Nancy...)

You chat with them as the other adults talk.

They all split. John was with you, Mike, El, Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Erica. All of you stayed at the arcade. Erica did play some of the games but usually kept throwing insults at us whilst we played.

You were playing Mario Kart (quite obviously, it is the GP version) with John trying it out as well with the other Mario Kart to your left.

"AND I WIN!" You cheered, not caring, since the arcade was already loud itself. You got first place and so did John. Somehow, Hannibal ended up being behind you, but you hadn't known. So when you stood up to look at John, he scared the living crap out of your soul. Hannibal simply laughed. "You didn't realize he was here?" John chuckled and stood up.

"Of course not!" You replied back. You turned back to the Mario game.

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iratusmus · 1 year

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honestly i think people get so wrapped up in the whole anti-sonic thing and fandom perception that they kind of forget that scourge actually. he is actually an interesting character in his own right. like regarding the whole identity crisis and stuff. like. i dunno, maybe im just overthinking it, but what makes him an interesting character to me is. how to put this. actually im just going to copy paste half of it from a now deleted post that i dont entirely agree with anymore. but this part is still good.

scourge being a discount sonic is literally his designated place by The Universe Itself. that is, by definition, who he is. like, just look at half his introduction boxes - even the comic itself won't recognize him as his own person beyond "evil sonic". at heart he's a deconstruction of the "what about an alternate universe... where everybodys moralities were FLIPPED!!!!!" trope - what happens if the alternate versions of the characters actually hate the fact that they're alternate/arguably discount versions? the point is that he can't actually be his own person. he's always going to be living in the shadow of sonic, and he cant even look in the mirror without seeing it. when people look at him and thing "hm wow that looks like a sonic recolor", they're not. literally not wrong.

scourge's identity crisis, while definitely having to do with ego, primarily is about agency. its the whole moebius problem (which i do talk about in a different post because morality/agency/responsibility for ones actions is actually. super interesting to me but thats neither here nor there) really - are the moebians bound to be the moral opposite of their mobius counterparts, or are they moebians because their moralities are the opposite of their mobius counterparts? does he actually have the ability to make his own choices and be a distinct person from sonic, or is he literally just going to be "discount evil sonic" for the rest of his life? when you find out that you arent your own person - that your existence is literally defined by some other version of you - the "true" version of you - how do you react. what do you do. where do you go.

which is then where we bring in the "scourge, in his desperate attempts to break away from being a sonic, tries to become what sonic isnt, and thus ends up leaning more into his designated place by the universe as anti-sonic" and so on and so forth, which is what makes him interesting. or at least to me anyways

#archie sonic #scourge the hedgehog #iratusmus.txt #<- i dont think i have a personal post tag but maybe i will for longer and more ramble-y posts #anyways this isnt directed at anybody in particular i see it around a lot and ive been meaning to make a proper post for awhile #but ive just never gotten around to doing it #anwayys. ya . <- tormented by The Horrors (scourge the hedgehog)#when people stop watering him down and making him bland so they can put him in a bad and entirely ooc ship #the earth will heal. or maybe just me

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childofaura · 11 months

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Do you ship characters in FE? If so, what are your top 10?

Oh GOSH I honestly don't know if I can boil it down to a top 10, given how Awakening and Fates are practically structured around shipping, it'll be hard to narrow it down. But I'll try, and I'll add some honorable mentions at the end (including my crackship 3Hopes shipping of F!Shez and Miklan).

Ryoma and Orochi. This support was honestly so endearing to me, as Orochi had a genuine desire to see Ryoma smiling and being happy. And Ryoma found solace in spending his time with Orochi, plus their S-Support is just so goofy and cute. The fact that they both bond over Mikoto too is just what makes the support. Also funny enough, I definitely see Shiro's physical design having both traits of Ryoma and Orochi, like how his hair is spiky in the back like Ryoma's, but has that bang curve like Orochi's.

Kellam and Olivia. These two were MADE for each other, the woman who hates to be seen and the man who can't be seen by anyone. I think it's sweet how Kellam slips things into her belongings and when it comes to the S-rank, it's all the more adorable. And the SIZE DIFFERENCE, she's tiny and dainty and he's just armored out the wazoo.

Manuela and Seteth. The support starts off funny enough, but there's just something about their dynamic that really ignites the chemistry these two seem to have, moreso than Hanneman and Manuela (in my opinion). Seteth is strict and more distant while Manuela is carefree and comfortable, and I think it brings out interesting sides in both (such as Seteth offering to go drinking with her and Manuela sharing her story about hearing Rhea singing). Also because Manuela and Flayn's support is also incredibly adorable, Manuela would make a great step-mother for Flayn with how well she treats her.

Leo and Charlotte. Everybody likes pairing Xander and Charlotte more most of the time, but I think what's wonderful about Leo's support with Charlotte is how he validates her feelings and praises her power while knowing how unfair it is that people would treat her lesser for being strong. Plus I like the dynamic of smaller, slender Leo being carried by his powerhouse of a wife Charlotte. And I also think that it makes Charlotte's support with Forrest very sweet because she knows what it's like to be seen by others as abnormal.

Hortensia and Fogado. I've explained it numerous times before, but this one I see as more a friendship set while they're both teens that ends up turning into feelings when they're adults and meet each other again. Basically the story idea (that I WILL write someday, I swear!) I have is that Hortensia, at 19 or 20 years old, is an advisor and a diplomat to Ivy during the recovery of Elyos and its nations, but feels unfulfilled by all the bureaucratic work as she feels it's not making as much of a difference to the smaller towns and villages of Elusia; she discloses a lot of this to Rosado. Rosado in turn writes to Fogado detailing some of these laments, in a request for him to come to Elusia in a surprise visit to take Hortensia out on some Sentinel-style missions for the Elusians. They do, in which not only does Hortensia feel like she's finally doing some direct worthwhile good for the Elusians, but also starts catching serious feelings for Fogado as they're working together and when she finally admits this, it actually shocks Fogado because he'd NEVER think someone would seriously fall for him like that with all his playful flirting. Romance happens, blah blah blah, they get married, and they alternate Sentinel work in both Solm and Elusia. The end.

Panne and Lon'qu. This one is definitely one of those ships that just fits like a puzzle piece for me; both have some serious trauma that they carry around, to the point where both of them are afraid of being near each other. But then they both open up and share their vulnerability, to which I think makes it an extra sweet ship. Plus I like Lon'qu's "Taguel or not, you're just the woman I love." And also, as someone once pointed out, it's hilarious when Yarne has two of Awakening's biggest hard-asses as parents.

Sylvain and Mercedes. Holy SHIT these two are perfect for each other. It was super hard for me to really click with shipping some of the students, but Sylvain and Mercie are set up so perfectly for each other. Sylvain talks to Mercie very honestly, without the usual overabundance of flirting, and Mercie treats him very sweetly, which I think kind of nurses the wounds of his trauma with Crests since she knows that pain as well. Plus their joking about "crest babies" always makes me laugh.

Gregor and Cordelia. Finding Cordelia a support where she DOESN'T keep fawning over Chrom is super rare, and pairing her with Gregor is, to me, one of the actually fulfilling ships she has. Especially after Gregor admits to himself that he fell in love with Cordelia, but knows (at least he thinks he does) that she's not interested in him. So when she DOES come back to him and admit her feelings, it's so satisfying watching him getting flustered and watching Cordelia explain that she lost her feelings for Chrom when she realized that Gregor was supporting her this whole time. And I feel like Gregor makes the best father for Severa.

Elise and Laslow. HRNNNGH THE SWEETNESS OF THIS SHIP. Elise is so bouncy and happy and warm, and the way that she pulls Laslow into making the dance game is adorable. But I think the biggest (and also kind of saddest) part of the ship that makes it for me is when Elise asks why Laslow would fall in love with her, because she's not curvy or busty like Camilla is. And Laslow just replies that she's her own woman and it's the qualities about HER that he loves, not someone else. These two would be happy with each other for a LONG time.

Camilla and Odin. I know I complain about Camilla, but that's mostly from a FEH perspective. I actually really like her character, and her support with Odin is one of the good reasons why. She's not rude or derogatory or put-off by Odin's eccentricities, but rather she's patient and kind and even encouraging to him. In their A-Support where she talks about her identity, I think that's a big thing for both of them because she, as an illegitimate princess, doesn't really fully grasp her place in the Nohrian noble hierarchy, but the identity of her armor helps solidify HER identity. And identity is a huge thing for Odin, he has to keep his a secret from everyone. Also it's sad because Odin himself knows how annoying he comes off as, and even tells Camilla that he's ready to hear her rejection and is shocked when she reciprocates his feelings. Oh and you CAN'T tell me that Camilla isn't a perfect mother for Ophelia. I adore their mother-daughter relationship.

So yeah, I'd say those are mostly my top 10 that I can think of. I know for a fact that I'll be crying later over some big ones I probably forgot, but for now these ones are the big ones. Some special mentions are Hinoka and Silas (because I think their ship potential is vast but their actual support was kind of disappointing. Both of them became knights to find Corrin again, and all they talk about is... Nohrian/Hoshidan relationships), Vaike and Sully, Azura and Subaki, Chrom and Sumia, and Frederick and Miriel. Oh, and also every one of my self-ship/Avatar ships, which is Priam, Shura, Dedue, and Zelkov. Also in FEH, it's a little weird but I ship Ross from Sacred Stones with Flayn, I have my reasons. And finally, as I mentioned above, my F!Shez and Miklan ship.

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banannabethchase · 1 year

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Matt is bored. Bored Matt is chaos Matt. Bored Matt decides to play Truth or Dare with the roster, because apparently it's 2008 and I'm writing classic tropes out of nostalgia.

Alternate titles: 23 times Matt Jackson asked somebody "truth or dare" and the 1 time somebody asked him back Truth or dare as introspection A fictionalization of those times in high school where you dare everybody to kiss each other and you end up making out with your best friend Matt Jackson Is Bored And That Means Chaos

I hope you enjoy. This is for an old Marianas Trench lyric prompt meme for the prompts "Just spin the bottle" and "truth or dare."

Mini Playlist: Pony - Ginuwine Bad Dog - Neon Hitch Truth or Dare - Marianas Trench Wildfire - Marianas Trench

Matt is bored. And he knows that, when he’s bored, bad things happen. Well. Fun things. But bad things. Most recently he held a pie eating content, and that ended up with a $1,500 cleaning bill Tony was not pleased about.

“You’re all twitchy,” Nick says. “Why are you all twitchy?”

Matt shrugs, trying to get comfortable. It fails. “My leg has a mind of its own. I can’t make it stop.”

“Are you about to have a terrible idea?” Nick asks. He studies Matt. “Please don’t do the thing you did in TNA.”

“That’s absurd. I would never do that again.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Except for when you did it in New Japan.”

Matt considers it. Promotion wide Spin-the-Bottle was fun, but expected. Matt lets the idea form in front of him: spin the bottle is so out of date. He’s got a better idea.

“Oh, no, don’t make that face,” Nick groans. He drops his head in his hands. “What did I do in a past life to get you as my brother?”

“Sainthood, probably,” Matt says. He’s not bored anymore. He’s excited. “I’ll be back in a minute. Maybe.”

Nick throws a shoe at his back, but it’s not one of the thumbtack ones, so Matt considers it a win.

He googles, “Truths and Dares,” and collects things he thinks might work for the particular demographic he works with. He types some in the notes app, because the wifi in this venue is notoriously weak. He feels a little bad for the first people he runs into. They’ll be the guinea pigs to determine the most interesting options.

Orange Cassidy is refilling his water bottle in the hallway when Matt slides up next to him. “Hi!” Matt gets a nod in response. “Truth or dare?”

Orange lowers his glasses, staring blankly at Matt.

“Truth or dare?” Matt asks again. Maybe he didn’t hear.

“Um. Truth?”

“Who do you think is,” Matt checks his phone, “the hottest person at work?”

“Luchasaurus,” Orange replies. He doesn’t pause. Doesn’t think. Just answers.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Okay. Not my type, but I appreciate the fact that you aren’t worried it might make you a furry.”

“The heart wants what it wants,” Orange says, sliding his glasses back on. “So does the dick.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair. You know where the rest of your buddies are?”

“Got food,” Orange answers. “Went out.”

Matt watches him walk away. “Okay,” he says. “Good question. Backup in an emergency.” He’s a little perturbed that the Best Friends clan might not be an option, but there was no guarantee Danhausen would take his dare to paint Trent’s face to match his, so he cuts his losses. He’ll hit as many people as possible, and will intentionally not think about the person who he’d like to ask a Truth the most.

While looking at his phone, he almost trips over something. “Hey!”

“Stop staring at that phone,” says Christopher Daniels, looking like a disappointed dad. “You kids…”

“I’m thirty-seven,” Matt snaps back. “Truth or dare?”

Christopher blinks. “Excuse me?”

Matt is wondering if his experience with truth or dare with his friends as a kid was a more unique experience than he’d thought. “Truth or dare,” he repeats. “Did they not have that when you were a kid?”

“One of these days I’m going to kill you,” Daniels grumbles. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to,” Matt says, making sure to get his eyes all big and moony, “but it’s fun.”

“Don’t – quit looking at me like that. Who do you think I am, Page?”

“It doesn’t work on him anymore!” Matt fires back. It’s only a second later that he realizes he just gave away his secret weapon. “Never mind. Are you doing it or not?”

“Dare,” Daniels says, like it’s torn out of him. “If it’ll get you to stop.”

“I dare you to go up to the first person you see and twerk on them.” He wiggles his phone. “I will provide the music of your choice.”

“Twerk?!” he half shrieks. “Matt, I am fifty-two fucking years old. I don’t twerk.”

Matt frowns. “Let me look something up.” He googles it for a while. “Okay, internet says you have to do a Truth.”

“I’m not telling you shit, because you’ll ask about upcoming contracts.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair.” He scrolls again. “Okay, if you say no to both, I think you have to kiss me.” Technically, the rule is the person is “out”. But Matt isn’t comfortable letting people have an automatic escape from his game, and if they really don’t want to kiss him, he obviously won’t make them. Plus, Daniels is a bit of a sucker for stupid dares, and Matt’s interested to see how far he can push him.

Daniels’ jaw tenses. “Fine. Tell me who I’m twerking on.”

The first room is Tony’s office, and Matt could almost skip with glee. “What song do you want?”

“I hate you,” Daniels grumbles. “Put on Pony by Ginuwine.”

“Good choice!”

Daniels walks into Tony’s room like he belongs here. Matt peeks in after him. Tony looks up from his computer. “Hi, Chris, what’s up?”

With a sigh, Daniels nods to Matt, who cues the music. In a feat of almost miserable effort, Daniels wiggles his butt in a shameful facsimile of a twerk.

“That’s enough,” Matt says, as gently as possible. He looks over at Tony. “I – I don’t want to put you through more.”

“May I ask what is going on?” Tony says. “Actually…” He pauses, pressing a button on the phone. “Okay, the call’s muted. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Matt shrugs. “I’m playing Truth or Dare. You, Tony?”

“Truth.”

Matt huffs. “Boring. Who’s your favorite wrestler on the roster?”

Tony looks at Matt like he’s a particularly pathetic street rat. “Kenny. You know that. We’ve talked about it.”

“It’s in your book,” Daniels offers.

Matt walks out of the room, defeated. He screwed himself on that one.

“Hell fucking no.”

“Please?” Matt asks, chasing after Ethan Page. “Come on!”

“No,” Ethan says. “I am not playing Truth or Dare.”

“If you say no, you have to kiss me.”

Ethan turns around. “You are a fucking demon.”

“So will you play?” Matt asks. He turns on the eyes.

Ethan laughs, directly in his face. “Truth or dare? Okay. Truth.”

“Uh,” Matt scrolls his phone, looking for something decent. “Who is your least favorite person –”

“You.”

“I didn’t finish!”

“Sucks for you,” Ethan says. He walks backward. “Thanks for the game, Matt. Hope you lose your next match.”

Matt kicks a trash can, stubs his toe, and limps off to catering, where his mood immediately turns. There’s a lot of people in here.

“Hi.” Matt sits down next to Tay and Anna. “Truth or dare?”

They turn to each other, look at each other for a moment, then turn back to him. In perfect sync. Matt is mildly terrified. “Truth,” Anna says.

Tay laughs. “Baby. I say dare.”

“Okay, Anna,” Matt looks through the list, “if you had to punch anybody in the room, who would it be?”

Anna scans the area, tapping her chin. Her eyes land on the Blackpool table. “Yuta,” she decides. “He’s too, I don’t know, pleasant. A fist to the face would make me like him more, I think.”

“Weird logic, but okay.” Matt turns to Tay. “With their consent, of course, kiss somebody in the room.”

Matt is expecting a peck on the cheek, probably for Anna. Maybe a tiny kiss for Sammy, if he comes in.

Nope.

Tay stands, grabs Matt’s face. “You?”

He should have seen this coming. “Fine.” Tay plants a kiss directly on his mouth. It’s over before he realizes, and he doesn’t even get a chance to kiss back.

“Interesting choice,” he says, trying to put his face back where it belongs. “Um, why me?”

“You were the closest,” Tay says, shrugging. “And Sammy’s on the other side of hotel, so…”

“Oh,” says Anna, interrupting, “Jack’s here.” She waves him over, and he slides in next to her, arm around her waist. “Hi. Matt’s doing Truth or Dare.”

Jungle Boy tilts his head to the side. “Dare. Obviously.”

Matt thinks about it. “I dare you to do a lap dance on somebody in the room who isn’t Anna.”

“Lame.” He looks around. “I get to choose the music?”

Matt nods. “Provided by me, of course. Just let me know what song and I’ll play it.”

Jack looks from the Blackpool table, over to The Firm’s table. It is only then that Matt realizes how much his adult life feels like high school. “Yuta!”

“What?”

“Can I give you a lap dance?”

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “No. Unequivocally no.”

“Please?”

“Still no. Let me eat my lunch.”

Jungle Boy turns back to Matt. “Well. Sucks for you.”

“What?”

“Babe,” Jungle Boy says, turning to Anna, “what’s the sexiest song?”

“Bad Dog by Neon Hitch,” she answers automatically.

Matt shrugs. He doesn’t know the song, but the title is…well, to quote Isiah Cassidy, sus. “Odd choice, but to each their own.” He chooses the song on Spotify. “Who are you lap dancing?”

“You, obviously.”

Thus begins 3 of the strangest minutes of Matt’s thirty-seven years. Jungle Boy isn’t exactly full of rhythm, and he doesn’t exactly have the ass to make this a particularly riveting lap dance. But it’s something to do, and Matt’s doing a great job of getting people to play his game, so he figures he doesn’t have anything to complain about.

The song ends, and Jungle Boy stops dancing and immediately goes stiff again. He sits back next to Anna. “Okay. I’m going to, uh, eat my dinner now.” He nods at Matt. “Later.”

Matt stands up. “Later. Uh, if they try to kill me,” he nods over to the Blackpool table, “call Nick or something, okay?”

“Sure,” Anna says, but she’s texting, and he’s pretty sure she didn’t even hear him. Oh, well.

He plops himself next to Wheeler Yuta, who pauses midchew. “Hi.”

Yuta swallows, eyeing Matt. “What are you up to?”

“Why do you think I’m up to anything?”

Yuta gestures to Jungle Boy, Anna, and Tay. “Well, for starters, Tay kissed you, and then Jungle Boy did a weird little stripper dance on you.” He shrugs. “Common denominator is you, man.”

“Okay, fine. I’m playing Truth or Dare.”

“Dare,” Yuta says automatically. Mox laughs, dropping his head, while Claudio rolls his eyes over a bowl of soup.

“Kid, you gotta stop giving Matt an open invitation. He’ll take it.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Matt. “Won’t he?”

“That was once, and we were high on adrenaline after Double or Nothing,” Matt fires back.

Mox shrugs, grinning as he shovels more pasta into his mouth. “Fun, though.”

Yuta looks between the two of them, strangely intrigued. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yes, not the point,” Matt says. He’s got to focus Yuta back so he can knock out the rest of the cafeteria before people start to leave. “Okay, dare? Um,” he searches online, but gives up quickly. The world in front of him gave a decent prompt. “I dare you to shove all of that loaf of bread in your mouth.”

“This is my bread,” Claudio grumbles.

“Tough shit,” Yuta says, and immediately shoves the whole hunk in his mouth. Like it’s nothing. Matt wonders what the hell the Blackpool Combat Club gets up to when they’re not in combat. Yuta’s chewing is a little labored, but he manages to chew and swallow it without much problem after a few moments. He swallows once more, then sticks out his tongue.

“Ew,” Matt says, wrinkling his nose. He turns to Claudio. “Truth or dare?”

“Not him yet,” Yuta says. “If Mox kissed you, can I kiss you?”

Matt blinks at him. “Um, that was back in 2019, so it’s not like a, a BCC initiation.”

“Oh, not because of that. Mox and I are in a battle to determine who is the best kisser and you’d be an impartial judge.”

Matt has the impulse to ask what in the eff that means, and also, again, what the fuck is Blackpool doing on company time, but he refocuses. He has a match soon. He can’t waste time. “I mean. I ask you for a favor, you ask me for one.” He points to the water. “Just, I don’t know, rinse your mouth out a little first.”

Yuta nods, chugs about a gallon of water and shakes his shoulders out. “Alright.” He leans down and kisses Matt gently, a sweet press. It feels almost blasphemous to call this brush of lips the same as whatever the fuck he and Moxley did behind a giant poker chip way back then.

Yuta’s smiling when he pulls away. “Good?”

“Very different from Mox,” he muses. “For instance, you don’t taste like cigarettes.”

Mox drops his fork. “That can’t count.”

“It does,” Matt says and, just to be annoying, “and Yuta’s not all sweaty.”

“I’d just made my debut on a fuckin’ lit stage! In May!”

Matt shrugs. “Yuta wins. Now, Claudio, Truth or Dare?”

“No, no, no,” Mox interrupts again. Matt’s going to get nowhere. There’s only so many hours in a day. “I get another shot. That other kiss was years ago.”

“Oh, my god, fine,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “Kiss me, you fool, or whatever. Clock is ticking.”

Mox leans in and presses a kiss gentler than Matt’d thought him capable of. But he still wouldn’t call it gentle. Mox kisses with single minded hunger, lips demanding and firm. They don’t taste like smoke, though Mox tastes a bit like chicken soup. He pulls away. “There. Better?”

“Better,” Matt says, “but you taste like soup this time, so I’m still gonna have to give it to Yuta.”

“Hah!” Yuta barks, and straight up points a finger in Mox’s face. “Told ya!”

Mox rolls his eyes. “Asshole.”

“Claudio, truth or dare?” Matt says.

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls his phone. “What’s your favorite fantasy?”

“Winning the world title,” Claudio says, almost automatically.

“I think – well, I guess it’s answerer interpretation, isn’t it.” Matt stands. “Thank you for your time, boys, as weird as it was.” He pauses. “Uh, Claudio?”

“Yes?” He doesn’t look pleased.

“Do you have stakes in the weird kissing battle between…” He trails off, pointing to Mox and Yuta, who have gone back to eating their lunch like they hadn’t just asked Matt to settle a bet between the two of them.

Claudio sighs. “Yuta won in my final review, too.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. Alright.” He walks over to the Firm’s table, where Stokeley Hathaway looks highly displeased at his arrival. “What?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

At least it’s moving quick than BCC. “What’s your greatest fear?”

“Being stuck in conversations with idiots my whole life,” Stokely fires back.

“I’ll take it. You,” he turns to Lee Moriarty, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Read out loud the last text message you sent.”

Lee pulls out his phone. “No, but you can if you want,” he reads. “To Big Bill, if it matters.”

“Thank you. Mr. Bill.”

“You can call me Big Bill.”

Matt nods. “Okay. Big Bill, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls the list. “Oh, this one is fun. Yell out the first word that comes to mind at the top of your lungs.”

“Potpourri!” Big Bill booms, and it staggers Matt. For just a second though.

“What the fuck goes on in that big ass head of yours?” Stokely asks, shaking his head. He turns back to Matt, somehow looking disappointed. “Alright. You finished?”

Matt nods. “Yep.” He walks to the exit, and runs right into Samoa Joe. “Oh, hi! Truth or dare?”

“Why?”

Matt shrugs. “I was bored. Truth or dare?”

Joe practically levels him with a stony star. This might have been a mistake. “I will throw you across this room.”

Matt seriously considers trying again. He has that street match later, anyway… But no. Bad idea. “Alright, suit yourself.” And he makes his way down the hallway.

He gets to his normal locker room, the one he now shares only with Nick, since Kenny came back. Since he left. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Nick says. “You seem a little less jittery than before.”

“Truth or dare is fun,” Matt says. “Speaking of which.”

Nick sighs. “Yeah, okay. Dare.”

“Ooh! You’re being fun today.” He scrolls the list, and finds the perfect one. “Oh, this is good. Show me the most embarrassing photo on your phone.”

Nick whines. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Or, I could just grab your phone and -” Matt darts out to grab Nick’s phone, but he pulls it away at the last second.

“God, okay, fine,” he whines. “Give me a sec.”

A minute so later, which Matt spends searching for other good dares and truths, Nick sighs. “Here.” He turns the phone around and shows it to Matt. It’s not that embarrassing – a photo of a particularly messy botch from the previous match with Death Triangle.

“Oh, that’s not bad.” He pats Nick on the cheek. “Thanks, baby brother.”

They gear up and walk down to Kenny’s dressing room, where he’s half asleep on the couch. “You awake, buddy?” Nick asks, reaching out to gently shake Kenny’s arm.

He wakes up slowly. “Time to get ready?”

Matt nods. “You forget your alarm again.”

“Apparently,” Kenny mumbles. “Sorry about that. Won’t be long.”

It isn’t. Kenny is ready in a couple of minutes, and they are ready for their match. Matt gets a Brutalizer, Nick gets a boot to the face, and Kenny probably breaks his ass pulling off a risky One Winged Angel. But they won. Even though Matt tapped, they still won.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Kenny says, patting Matt’s shoulder a little too hard. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good.” Matt rolls his shoulder. “And I tapped! I almost made us lose.”

“I had your back,” Kenny says. “Besides, all that matters is that we won. One more in two weeks.” He winces. “I think I’ll enjoy that time off, actually.”

Matt hums in agreement. The ache in his shoulder is almost completely done by the time the clock hits ten. Kenny’s ass is solid, pun intended, Nick doesn’t have anything worse than a lump in his forehead, and Matt decides that he’s allowed to turn his attention back on his own brand of nonsense now.

“Hey, I’m not gonna bother with the trainer. I’m already feeling better.” He grins. “Anybody want to come with me to play truth or dare?”

Kenny shakes his head. “I want to go monitor Rampage, make sure everything closed out Dynamite okay.” He wiggles, wincing. “And maybe sit on some ice.”

“And I,” Nick says, “will do anything in my power to avoid being involved in your weird…” He trails off, making a bizarre hand gesture. “Well, your whatever it is. So I’m going with Kenny.”

Matt shrugs. “Suit yourself. But first, Kenny,” he grins, like everything is the way they were before the injuries, “truth or dare?”

“Die in a fire.”

“Not an option,” Matt says. “Truth or dare?”

“Fine,” Kenny says, slowly lifting himself off the table. “Truth.”

“Who on the roster would you let kiss you, if they asked nicely?”

Kenny considers, wincing as he takes his first few steps. “Jesus, don’t drop ass first on a table.” He takes a few steps, and loosens, just a little. “Probably Rush,” Kenny decides. “I like his hair.”

Matt nods. “Cool. Interesting choice. Not where I would have gone with it.”

On the way to main locker room, he bumps into the Dark Order.

“Great timing,” he leans against the wall, legs out to make sure the Dark Order don’t make the mistake of thinking that they can escape this conversation. “Truth or dare. Let’s start with Silver.”

“Dare,” he says. He looks way too excited. “You gonna make me suck a dick? Lick somebody’s stinky butthole?”

Matt involuntarily scoots a little further away. “Gross, no. What in the world do you guys get up to?”

“So much,” Uno says, sounding dazed.

“Silver, I dare you to text ‘I love you’ to whoever posted most recently in your Instagram feed.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Silver says, pulling his phone out from his trunks. Matt reminds himself to never shake his hand without Purel on hand. “Hello, Miss Grande.” He types it out, presses send and shows Matt. “Maybe she’ll pick up some tickets to the gun show and get up on this.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s married now,” Reynolds muses. “I choose truth.”

“Who’s your least favorite member of the Dark Order?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Alex waves it away. “Five. He was the worst.” He pauses. “Actually, wait. I think my least favorite is Ten now. Because of, you know, the whole betrayal thing.”

John exhales. “I never thought I’d see the day when Five wasn’t last in something.”

“So, Uno, how about you?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you, to,” Matt checks his list again, wishing he could just memorize the whole thing, “to send a sext to the last person in your phone, alphabetically.”

“Oh, well, that’ll be,” he holds up his phone, “Wheeler Yuta.”

“This’ll be fun,” John says, “tell him you want to use his abs to do laundry.”

Uno makes an appraising noise. “Honestly, that’s better than what I was worried you’d suggest.”

“I was gonna say ‘ask him to suck your Moby dick’, but I figured that was over the line.”

“Good call,” Matt says. Uno types and sends the message. “Keep me posted. It’ll be fascinating to see where this goes next.”

He makes his way down to Death Triangle’s area, but they’re gone. No sign of them. “Hello?” he calls into the locker room. “Anybody else in here?”

“Hello hello,” says Bryan Danielson, popping out from the showers. He’s fully dressed, though, so Matt doesn’t need to have a panic attack about that. “Need something?”

“I’m playing truth or dare,” Matt says. “Which one?”

“Truth, I guess,” Bryan says, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Who’s your favorite person on the roster?”

Bryan keeps adjusting pieces of his hair as he thinks. “Probably Mox,” he decides. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Matt says, and he salutes, which he couldn’t explain if a knife was to his throat.

He walks to the other side, expecting to see it empty, but Hook is sitting there with Top Flight. “Oh – didn’t think anybody else was in here.”

“We’re trying to chill,” Dante says. His eyes are closed as he leans against the locker. “So, if you’re here to kick our ass or yell at us, wait, like, ten minutes.”

“Not any of that,” Matt says. “I’m playing truth or dare. Want to play?”

Hook takes a headphone out, considers Matt. “Truth,” he says. Matt thinks this may be the most Hook’s said directly to him. Like, ever.

“Okay, um,” he gives up on his phone, because he genuinely has a question, “favorite wrestler of all time?”

“My dad,” he answers. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t explain, just relaxes back against the lockers. But his eyes stay open, this time.

“Alright, Dante,” he nods to him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare. I’m always up for something stupid.”

Matt breaks into a slow grin. “Go up to Danielson – he’s on the other side – and start dancing on him.”

Dante sighs. “Should have seen that one coming. Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

Hook grins and breaks out his phone, recording it as Dante walks over. Danielson is on his way out, but Dante catches up to him and immediately starts doing what appears to be the Dougie. Bryan is not phased, and simply walks out.

“That was anticlimactic,” Matt mutters. “Alright, Darius. What’s your poison?”

He tilts his head a little. “Truth.”

“Did you consider leaving wrestling after your accident?” But it wasn’t Matt who asked. It was Dante.

Darius’ eyes widen. “Not for a second.” He looks at Dante, who’s slumped, just a little. “Hey, bud, I promise. I wasn’t going to leave.”

“But you could have,” Dante says. “You probably should have.” His eyes are suddenly big and sad, and he looks so, so young. He remembers getting that same look from Nick all those years ago, when things weren’t going well and Matt was about to quit.

Matt stands, shuffling out, because he’s not needed for this. He hears the cheers from the Rampage taping going off, so he guesses he’s shit out of luck for anybody on that show. He ducks into the corners of the dressing rooms and the prep rooms, looks for Swerve and his guys, but nobody’s there. He peeks in catering again – no one. Everybody’s either working or back at a hotel.

He catches Wardlow on his way back toward his EVP room, and taps his shoulder.

“Hey.” Wardlow turns to him. “I like the haircut.”

Wardlow touches it, fingertips pulling at strands that are no longer there. Matt remembers doing that when he and Nick first started for TNA, when they made them Max and Jeremy. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Did I miss something?” Wardlow asks, looking around. “This for your vlog?”

“No,” Matt says. “I got bored and I’m asking everyone. Getting some good gossip.”

“Like what?” Huh. Matt had not pegged Wardlow for a nosy Nancy, but Matt Jackson is always willing to dish out the knowledge he obtains.

“Well,” Matt says, “I learned that Jungle Boy can’t do a lap dance to save his life.” He thinks about other interesting details. “Oh, and Hook’s favorite wrestler is Taz, which is expected, but nice. Wheeler Yuta can shove, like, a whole loaf of bread in his mouth at once.”

Wardlow nods in approval. “Okay, that one’s actually kind of impressive.”

“I know,” Matt says, “Like, I know a lot of bread is air, but a lot of bread is, well, bread.”

Wardlow laughs, something that is both confusing and comforting to Matt. He feels unlikely to be powerslammed into the wall. “Alright. I pick truth.”

“What do you think is your biggest mistake?” It’s a rough question, but Warlow seems…well, he seems like he might need it. MJF wasn’t particularly kind to him, and Samoa Joe was a giant jerk tonight. Nobody checks on Wardlow. Somebody should talk to him.

Wardlow sighs, leans against the wall. “Well,” he say, “I’d say helping MJF all that time. I made the mistake of putting money over morals.” He smiles. “Not doing that again.”

“Well, thank you for your candor,” Matt says, doing his best to be chivalrous. “I won’t share that if you don’t want to.”

“I mean, you can,” Wardlow says with a shrug. “I feel like most people can assume, at this point.”

He waves Matt off, wishing him a happy new year, and Matt makes his way back to his room. There’s only one person left from Dynamite that he really, really wishes he’d caught. And it’s only then that Matt realized this was all an excuse. His shoulders slump, like a marionette with cut strings, and he pushes into the EVP room with Nick with the energy of a dying plankton.

“You look miserable,” Nick says, a little too cheerfully. “You get punched in the face for daring somebody to, like, make out with you or something?”

“I did not dare anybody to kiss me, thank you very much.” He decidedly does not mention the thing with Jungle Boy. Or Tay. Or the little thing with Yuta. Or the thing with Mox. Which sort of wasn’t a kiss, as much as a mouth attack. “And no, it’s because it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

“That’s not your tired face,” Nick says. “Actually. That’s, uh. That’s your weird little temper tantrum face.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, He dips his head, trying to cover whatever Nick thinks he can read there.

“Who was it?” Nick asks, too knowing as always. “Which sane person decided not to play your game?”

“Samoa Joe, but that’s not the issue,” Matt says. He can feel that Nick is going to keep pressing, kep asking. So he caves. “I couldn’t find Page.”

“Ethan?”

Matt lifts his head up. “No.”

Nick exhales, slumping against his chair. “Man, you really are a glutton for punishment.”

“It’s a game!” Matt doesn’t know why he feels so defensive about this. “I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Nick claps him on the shoulder. “You really miss him, don’t you.”

“I don’t want to,” Matt mumbles. “But yeah. I guess I miss what we all used to have, you know?”

They sit silently for a little, packing up slowly, until Matt realizes he hasn’t eaten since five.

“Catering might still be open,” he says. “I’ll bring you a cookie.”

The walk to the catering area is quiet, since anybody who isn’t working Rampage is gone or packing up, and he’s halfway through a tray full of a smattering of snacks when he hears it. The familiar tap on the tile floors.

“Hangman!” Matt scrambles to his feet, practically tripping over them to get out of the cafeteria and out to Adam. “Adam! Wait!”

He turns around slowly. Hesitantly. Matt doesn’t like it. “Matt?”

“Yeah, hi,” Matt says. He skids to a stop in front of Adam. “Hi.”

“You said that already.”

Matt can’t help but smile. “I know. Um, truth or dare?”

Adam sighs. “Not again.”

“It’s not spin the bottle this time,” Matt blurts out. “So you don’t have to kiss me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you that time,” Adam says, leaning against his wall. “But, truth.”

Matt feels something well in him, some kind of bold tenacity. Adrenaline spikes. “Do you hate me?”

Adam slips a little bit. “What?”

Matt nods. “That’s your truth. Do you hate me?”

He’s quiet for a minute, for long enough that Matt is regretting this whole thing. Then, “No.” He adjusts his hair, tightening the bun. “No, Matty, I don’t.”

The nickname is like a kick to the heart. Or a jumpstart. Matt risks stepping closer.

“Now I get to ask you, right?”

Matt tilts his head. “You ask me?”

“That’s how the game’s played, isn’t it?” Adam asks. His fingers are pulling at his belt buckle. He’s nervous. “The last person to go always gets to ask whoever they want.”

“Nobody else has cashed in on that today, but, yeah.” Matt feels a little breathless. “Yeah, you can ask me.”

“Truth or dare?” His voice is low, breathy. Matt remembers that tone of voice. Remembers when it used to meet him in the middle of the night in a shitty hotel room, used to sweep him off his feet backstage.

“Dare,” Matt whispers.

Adam steps toward Matt. “Kiss me.”

Matt nods, feeling something tighten in his chest, something that’s been begging to get touched for years. He tilts his head up, and it’s like coming home. Adam’s fingers thread through his hair where it’s fallen out of the ponytail; he slides them against the base of his head like he always used to. Matt sighs into it, settles his hands on Adam’s hips, pulls him closer. Adam makes this little sound against him as he licks at Matt’s lips. Like Matt could ever resist that sound. He goes up onto his toes trying to get better leverage, and presses Adam up against the wall. Adam’s hands lose some of their demure hesitance, and they grip at the back of Matt’s shirt. It feels like an invitation, so Matt slides his hands up Adam’s shirt, pressing at the familiar skin there.

He's missed this. He’s missed Adam. He’s missed feeling like there was something other than the ground to anchor him.

Matt fumbles with the door and twists the knob, and he pulls Adam with him into whichever room this is. He doesn’t care where it is – he just needs to be away from any questioning eyes. He realizes with a hazy sense of stupid that this is, indeed, Kenny’s dressing room. And Matt doesn’t care.

Adam’s making those little, desperate noises again, the ones that get Matt hard in his pants so fast he gets dizzy, and Matt’s only option is to scrabble at Adam’s shirt and yank it up over his head.

“Missed you,” Adam growls, biting along Matt’s jaw. His hands have found their way up Matt’s back, under his shirt, burning a path where his fingertips skitter and scratch. “Want you.”

Matt can’t do much other than make a weird little murmur in response, and he hopes it’s enough to tell Adam that he wants him, too. He pulls back, just a little, and hears Adam make a half pathetic desperate noise.

“I’m coming back,” Matt says, and he pulls of his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. He grabs at the hem of Adam’s shirt, already messed up, and yanks it up. “Rawhide Kid?” he asks. “What…?”

“It’s a gay cowboy,” Adam says, with a little laugh. “Strangely appropriate for right now, huh.”

Matt nods in agreement, then steps back into Adam’s space. He goes for Adam’s belt, doesn’t know what he’s getting, but he wants anything Adam is willing to give. Adam’s belt flies across the room, Matt’s pants fall, and Adam grabs him around the waist. He hauls him up and presses him up against the door as he pulls the pants off his leg. Matt’s vision nearly whites out.

“Forgot you could do that,” Matt laughs, head tilted back as Adam bites a bruise into his skin. “And I’ve bulked up.”

“I noticed,” Adam says. He moves down to Matt’s bicep, nipping. “Been lifting?”

“Uh huh,” Matt says. He rolls his hip up against Adam, desperate for friction. He’s rewarded with Adam’s low laugh, the kind Matt only gets to hear with they’re like this. “Come on, take your pants off.”

Adam turns and, with a hand on Matt’s back, carries him to the couch. He drops Matt, and it gives Matt a truly magnificent view of Adam looming over him, undoing his belt.

“Got anything?” Adam asks. “It’s not back in our Ring of Honor days, not sure if spit’s gonna do the job.”

Matt feels a zing of heat course through him. “Uh, this is Kenny’s room, so if you go through his stuff, he’s bound to have something.”

“Right,” Adam says. “Going through my professional ex’s stuff so I can fuck my other ex. Totally normal.”

“Shut up and get in me,” Matt demands. Adam does shut up, but not without an eye roll. Matt doesn’t agree with Adam – spit’s worked fine for him the last few times – so he works himself down on his own finger while Adam searches.

“Okay, I think I found – oh, holy fuck.” Adam sounds like the breath has been punched out of him. “Oh, god, you look so pretty doing that.”

“Had to,” Matt gasps, writhing against the press of his own finger inside him. “You were taking too long.”

Adam hums in interest, then leans down, batting Matt’s finger out of the way. “Let me.” He presses a kiss to Matt’s bare thigh, then slicks his fingers. He’s always so gentle, this way. Kisses up and down Matt’s body, peppered to his lips, his chest, his legs. He starts off slow, takes a while to go rough enough, fast enough for Matt. It’s not in his brand to rush things, he thinks.

“More,” Matt gasps, “please. More.”

“Well, only ‘cause you beg so pretty.” Adam gently slides a second finger into Matt, twisting them so it sends shockwaves up Matt’s spine. He can’t help it – he grinds back down on Adam’s fingers, letting out a desperate moan. “Forgot how loud you get when I’m inside you,” Adam murmurs. He moves up Matt’s body, pressing a kiss to his lips like he’s drowning for Matt’s oxygen. “What do you want?”

“Wanna – wanna ride you,” Matt gasps, grinding down with each thrust from Adam.

Adam laughs. “I could make a cowboy joke here.” He teases a third finger around Matt’s rim, then slides it in easy, drawing out a sound of desperation from somewhere inside Matt’s chest. “But you seem otherwise occupied.”

Matt can’t speak anywhere, just lets out a bunch of vowels, and Adam laughs again. Matt will do anything to keep that there. He leans up, moaning at the way it shifts Adam’s fingers inside him, and pulls Adam to him. Adam slides his fingers out.

“Why the eff would you do that?” Matt asks, and he sounds petulant even to his own ears.

“Because you want to ride me, and that’s not gonna work if I’m stuck doing this standing crouching thing.” He flops down, hard, next to Matt, and rips open the condom, rolling it over himself. Matt’s about to die a little, when Adam pats his thighs. “Ride ‘em – ”

“Oh, no,” Matt says, throwing a leg over Adam’s. “No stupid jokes. We’re stopping that right now.”

“Just one?” God, Adam looks cute when he pouts, lips all pink and eyes shiny blue-green.

Matt decides argument is unnecessary, grabs Adam’s cock, and lowers himself down. It’s a strategy that’s never failed.

Adam drops his head backward with an audible thunk. “Christ on bike,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I forgot how good you feel.”

Matt’s eyes flutter shut as he does his first rocking. “I didn’t forget you,” he mumbles. There’s certain things you can’t replicate on your own, no matter how hard you try. “You – oh – always fit me so good.”

Adam hums in agreement, starting with slow, tantalizing circles of the hips. Matt rocks, memorizing everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have this again and, last time, he didn’t know it was the last time. This time, he’s prepared.

Adam slides a hand up to the back of his neck, into his hair. He pulls Matt down to kiss him, deep and dirty, and he picks up the speed of his thrusts. This is what Matt really missed – the way Adam just lets it go, gets a little wild with everything he gives. Matt starts by trying to lead, at least a little, but Adam’s desperate with it, and all Matt can really do is grip the back of the couch and press open mouthed kisses to Adam’s gasping mouth.

His cock is caught between their bellies, catching on Adam’s skin, and it’s too much and not enough at once. He presses his lips to Adam’s forehead. He doesn’t know how to tell him what he’s feeling. He hopes he can show it.

Adam slows down a little, one arm braced on the couch and the other around Matt’s back. Matt remembers all of this. They’ve just never had the chance to do this in such a nice room. Before he can catch himself. Matt laughs.

“What?” Adam asks, laughing along with Matt.

“Just – Kenny’s room,” Matt says. “I don’t know. It’s funny.”

Adam hums, but he must not be feeling the humor, as he speeds up and gets his hand on Matt and very suddenly Matt has other things to focus on.

It hits Matt like a train, when he comes all over Adam’s hand. Adam groans, “Fuck, you’re so, I…” But he trails off into a wordless moan as he comes, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Matt forgot how good Adam looks like this.

He’s got a giant smile on his lips as he eases his eyes open. “I missed you,” Adam half slurs, reaching up to brush hair from Matt’s forehead. “God, I missed you.”

Matt shifts, hips screaming at him, and flinches when Adam slips out of him. He’ll be feeling that tomorrow, that’s for damned sure. “I missed you, too.” He’s not sure what happens next, the reality of this crashing over him when Adam stands.

“Don’t panic,” he says, looking more confident than Matt feels, “just throwing this away.” He walks into the bathroom and comes right back out. “I’m not running out on you.”

“Oh. Cool. That’s good.” Matt really, really doesn’t know what comes next, but he’s been getting yesses almost the whole day so he figures luck is on his side. He reaches out, and Adam dives into his arms, pressing Matt to the couch. Matt settles into it, feels cozy when Adam nuzzles his neck and throws his legs over Matt’s lap.

“Forgot how cute you are, after,” Matt murmurs, arms around Adam’s shoulders.

“Shut up and let me cuddle,” Adam says back, but there’s no fire behind it, no anger. They stay there for longer than they probably should, testing the silence from time to time with little nothings, comments.

Well, until they hear footsteps. Matt manages to get his jeans and boxers back on, Adam his boxers only, by the time the door opens.

“What – what the hell?” Kenny doesn’t look angry, exactly. Anger would look a lot less confused. “I really hope I don’t know what you just did.”

“Take a wild guess, Kenneth,” Matt says, pulling his jeans on over his boxers. “Not like I haven’t run in on you and, well a lot of people, come to think of it.”

“How am I being slutshamed when you two are the ones fucking on my couch,” Kenny mutters.

“I’m not shaming that you’re a slut,” Matt says, shirt back on. The neck hole is super stretched, though. Hopefully a good wash will fix it. “I’m just commenting on it.”

“Can we stop saying that word?” Adam asks. Matt turns to see him doing his belt, and it sends that zing up his spine again. “And, uh, hi, Kenny.” He puts out his hand, winces, then pulls it behind his back.

Kenny shakes his head. “I don’t need to know the details.” He walks over to his stuff. “Oh – did you.” He cuts himself off, head snapping up. “Matt, did you steal my lube?”

Sheepishly, Matt finds the lube where they’d thrown it. “Here.”

Kenny makes a strange noise as he sort of tosses it in his hands, then throws it into his bag. “Don’t give me the condom back, for the love of god.”

“Already gone,” Adam says, grinning. “Thanks for the assist by the way.” The bastard winks at Kenny, Matt’s wondering if he’s physically able to get hard again just from that.

Kenny makes that weird noise again. “I should be annoyed by this.”

“Maybe,” Matt says, “but you hate being annoyed at me. It’s inconvenient.”

In tandem, Adam and Kenny groan in frustration. The cut it off at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“Moving on from that,” Adam says, starting to blush. “Anybody see my shirt?”

“Back of the couch,” Matt and Kenny say at the same time.

“Alright, well, I hate that,” Adam says. “Give it to me.”

Matt snorts. “Here.” Adam takes the shirt and pulls it back on, much to Matt’s chagrin. “So,” Matt says, “I was, like, in the middle of dinner when I heard Hangman walking down the hallway, so I’m starving. Anybody want to get food?”

“Shouldn’t this be weird?” Adam asks. “I mean,” he points between the three of them, “with everything, this should be weird.”

Kenny’s smile is more gentle than Matt would have expected. “Let’s save awkward for tomorrow. I didn’t get dinner either.”

Matt begins a spirited argument with the two of them about which is better, Denny’s or IHOP, and, for the first time in years, he feels whole.

The afterglow, though. That gets ruined fast.

“Where the eff were you?!” Nick asks, looking panicked in the hallway. “You haven’t answered your phone in, like, forty-five minutes!”

“I was busy,” Matt says, and he watches Nick get it as his eyes go to where Adam’s and Matt’s hands are linked.

“Oh, here we go,” Nick says, but he’s smiling, so Matt thinks he might be okay.

“Goin’ to IHOP,” Adam says. “Wanna come with?”

“What if we go to Cracker Barrel?” Matt asks, the idea fully formed before he was finished speaking.

Kenny puts his hands on his hips. “Huh. You know, I haven’t had Cracker Barrel in, what years.”

“Me either,” Nick adds.

Adam beams over at Matt. “Cracker Barrel. Just like old times.”

#Matt Jackson #HangMatt #There's too many people I'm not tagging anybody but the cow eyed menace #in which Sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now???

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wack-ashimself · 2 years

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Yeah....we do not need a season 4 of the umbrella academy..

Spoilers.

They COULD make a movie special, to wrap up all the loose ends but if they don't, whatever.

Season 3 was the worst of all the seasons.

Fuck, Season 1 was their peak!

And because they destroyed the world, went back in time, etc, they seem to hit a lot of 'wtf' moments, and NEVER EVER explain them.

For some? Cool. Mysterious. But for ones that you tease all the time (what killed original ben) you never are given an answer just cuz...they don't want to? It could have really developed this alternative ben character, but nope; fuck us, right?

And so many fucking plot holes. Since they can use the excuse 'time travel/alternative time lines' anything from the first 2 seasons I won't cover (also cuz I barely remember those seasons. They were FUN to watch, not work).

1-so we find out #5 formed the commission (old version, 1 arm). He says don't save the universe (how the fuck did he survive let alone develop a 'paradox' free room). And has a tattoo on his chest that younger version cuts off. Then later he gets the same tattoo on his chest to 'keep with the time streams' or something. WHY? Reality is falling apart, do you think following the rules will somehow fix it? Also, he gets his arm cut off (then back when he saves time). How the fuck did the old him survive the attack, the end of the world, and get to the bunker? AND form the commission inbetween?

2-so, in theory, their dad for the entire series was trying to get to this magical room that resets existence (to bring back to life what appears to be his wife, on the moon, that Luthor was protecting...tho he couldn't access it, cuz it had its' own BARRIER. Kinda redundant.) Tho they never mentioned 1/2 of the stuff they show (how did he know about it? Understand the language? And he says 'the creators of this realm' so...not his species? Why does it look like their hotel if their dad created the hotel? etc). The 'defenders' never showed till the bell was rung. But...they only needed to access the machine. Why not look for the machine and activate it? Maybe the defenders would kill them during their vulnerability? The guards were clearly not immortal, so why not bomb the fuck out of them? See, they bring up new cool concepts, then when you question even some basic shit, it doesn't hold weight. Like, the bugs. WTF is with the bugs?

3-Allison can make anyone, anytime tell her the truth, and she can tell them to forget about it. I know, sounds evil, but she goes full evil (IMO) in this season, so why the fuck not? I would at minimum use it on my KNOWN PSYCHO dad, and when it didn't work, then I would know he has powers or isn't human. I mean, he never ages, and he made a robot mom....

4-robot mom goes cult leader (with a RANDOM flamethrower)? WHYYYYYYYYYYY!?

5-....a floating cube was born of a human mother? So...a box came from a box? haha. But seriously, c-section? His own language? This entire show should be called 'here's more questions, and even less answers than last time.'

6-mutiple times the human punching bag was interacted with (tripping, throwing, etc) and the person doesn't get any damage. Very inconsistent. Also, why does his a face fall apart? Why does he need an inhaler?

7-The ending was a (kinda) nice wrap up. Everybody (kinda) got what they wanted; no more power drama. Why did dick ben stay in old ben's body? And wasn't he dead well before the reset in the main universe? Only one to lose out was Luthor (his wife). She still exists, but where? There's no way they were called by the names on their birth certificate, so he has no idea where she was born or went. THAT sucks. Felt like the ending of the new spiderman.

Still...for the movie, they could explain a-dad, alien, now alive wife, mega corporation. Was that his plan the whole time? Why? And EVERYTHING with the back door to god machine. Who, what, where, why, how? b-how the FUCK did allison get her super dead from the past lover, young again, in the present? Does the machine make life PERFECT? c-why did their powers disappear? Who caused them in the first place? d-all that bull shit with the commission. Tho at the same time, with them resetting everything, you could just say it no longer exists.

Just this whole season felt campy, and everyone acting like over the top soap opera stars. Ben was better as a ghost...killing a bunch of characters we had no time to have grown attached to. Subplots that just straight up disappeared or are never covered again. All felt soap opera-y.

I do NOT need a whole season, just a wrap up movie. You owe me some damn answers!

#tua #the umbrella academy #spoiler #spoilers

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commodorebuzzkill · 8 days

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The problem with Revolutionary Socialism

I get it. Our system sucks and needs to die, needs to be replaced by a system that provides for the needs of everyone regardless of bank account, religion, skin color, sexual/gender orientation. It is SO tempting to just think "We'll just tear it all down! Let the people rise up and end Capitalist tyranny! Fuck voting for the stooges who get shifted around the board of politics, making speeches, offering lip service to change, while leaving everything exactly as it is!" But how close are we really to bringing about a great awakening of the working class in this country? A huge chunk of them will vote for Trump this year. Which side of the political aisle do you think is better armed? It ain't ours, and frankly, just arming everybody to the teeth when we can all get dangerously paranoid or depressed, and the absent minded squeezing of a finger can end someone's life, is just a bad idea.

And if you did decide that tomorrow, or next month, or next year was going to be the time for the glorious uprising, do you really think most of the left would follow you?

Well, maybe you don't need a full majority of people, maybe you just need a nucleus of diehards around you and get everyone else to be more or less adjacent, and given time, they'll fall into line after you provoke the response of the military, tear the veil of civilization off the government, create a few thousand martyrs and... you can see where this is going, right?

Start a civil war, and the fabric of the new state, or anarchist movement you create will trend toward warfare. The policies of your organization will probably cater to the needs of the war, producing weaponry, organizing troops, supplying them with ammunition, and when you come out the other end, you will have a war economy where the military leaders will be the ones holding the political power. And once they have it, go ask them if they're inclined to give it back. I'll bet they will use their military muscle to ensure that nobody can challenge them, and what they have, they keep.

Not to mention that you will have created the perfect breeding ground for demagoguery. Did Lenin want a real "dictatorship of the Proletariat?" Fuck no he didn't. He wanted power. To quote Maxim Gorky: "Lenin is not an omnipotent magician, but a cold-blooded trickster who spares neither the honor, nor the life of the proletariat. He does not know the popular masses, he has not lived with them."

Oh but sure, you want a state-less society, where everybody won't build big power structures ever again! Point to one point in history where that has worked out, and didn't result in said society being swallowed by a bigger more aggressive neighbor. Maybe if such a society could be maintained, it would be ideal, but I just don't think it can. For better or for worse, I think we as humans have tribalism and pecking orders baked into our DNA. I think if you create a power vacuum, somebody will come along and fill it.

Democracy for all its flaws might be the best we're capable of.

Reform is an agonizingly slow and deeply frustrating process. Progress inevitably arrives too late for so many. I get it. But really think about the alternatives.

I'm not saying that ballot box action on its own will achieve needed change, but abandoning it won't do us any favors either. Direct action is great, but it helps to have parallel effort in electoral politics too. Attack on all fronts (without guns). Offer help to all your friends you're worried about. We need to stick together right now.

#You bet I'm bringing up the Russian Revolution #Time to get some hate mail

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catgirl-catboy · 1 year

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Bob is a very fun character, indeed like I want to get to know him more, how he did gain that title and how he started to live in delulu land? Is he doing meth in his spare time? Give us more about Bob, we all love him

P.s: He is way better than Yasuhiro Hagakure. I rest my case

Celene is Hagakure if he was competent and was plot relevant, and the bad end of if you trust the talent more than the individual. Sure, she has superpowers, but she's just a guy.

Bob is the Hagakure rip-off (affectionate) and I solved problems by giving him plot relevance when you'd expect one of the BFFs committed this murder due to it being chapter two and them being Ishimondo foils. (at least, if people are metagaming, and I hope they would be!)

He's constantly underestimated, which is a shame because he's surprisingly right about a lot of shit. Just not anything that'd be useful in the class trial.

Some facts about him.

He doesn't think that you, the player, are right about what happened in case 1. Primrose was 100% innocent and that was a forced confession, actually! (In the chapter 3 alternate ending, this actually happens, even though Mika comes clean after he realizes Monokuma was going to falsely declare him the blackened.)

Outside of having a decent relationship with Primrose, (since she's naive enough to consider his thoeries.) most of the class thinks he's a complete idiot. Val and Mika are the two most vocal about thinking he's an idiot, and will team up to roast his ass pre-falling out. They don't actually have like, beef, they are just mean girls (gender neutral)

He 100% hero worships Celene, which makes her hella uncomfortable. He'll take any vision she has as fact, but will ignore any common sense deductions she has. This could be spun as a crush, but I honestly don't think so. He's just in love with the idea of a seer.

Robin specially does not trust him, since he managed to 4d chess (ironic) his way into guessing that Robin wasn't actually injured. (this increases Robin's contemplated murder count in Ch3.) This is ruined when its revealed he knows nothing.

Aiden talks to him, but Aiden is desperate for approval by anyone his own age, and is willing to belive that snakes are actually baby lizards for it.

As for a tragic backstory, he actually doesn't have one. He was bullied in school a bit, but not nearly enough to explain what we have. However, he still believes he has a tragic backstory and was abducted by aliens as a kid. He'll tell you about his "backstory" but nobody believes him. He thinks Celene got her powers by being abducted also.

Bob: Mika a kindred spirit! You don't trust these people either, huh. Mika: I am nothing like you.

That being said, he does like everybody in his class. He never lets the constant stream of insults upset him. (because they didn't mean it, they have robot chips!)

That being said, while he's lacking in common sense, he actually has a thorough understanding of conspiracy theories, and can explain them at length. He can tell you about who killed JFK, but not who JFK is, you know?

The reason he got his ultimate is that he managed to uncover a huge conspiracy, in one of the one in a million times he was right.

Its not canon, but I feel like he'd be the Lucky Student in an au where Makoto didn't exist. (my class is the same age as the THH class, since HPA has two separate classes in my world.)

His trial is hard, because he manages to do things that confuse the fuck out of the squad. Why did he choose this specific murder method? To give himself an albi? Nope! It was bullshit reasons.

#ask tag #bob shsl conspiracy theorist #crowtalks

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prismatic-bell · 3 years

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So the other day I said a thing about how I felt like a line could be drawn between antis, and the rise of 24-hour news networks. I’ve given that thought some time to bubble to see what, exactly, my brain meant by that statement, and here’s what I’ve got:

When I was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1990s), we had three major news stations in my town: Channel 12, Channel 24, and Channel 35. These corresponded to NBC, ABC, and CBS, but I don’t remember which one was which so don’t ask me. Anyway--you had a half hour of news at 8 or 9 am (depending on which station you watched), an hourlong program at noon in which half the program was stuff like “here are today’s beach closures and some recipes and also if you’re looking for stuff to do with the kids this weekend here are local promotions,” and half an hour at either 5, 5:30, or 6 (again, depending on which channel you watched). One of the three stations also did a half-hour capper at 10pm. So unless you were watching all three stations, and picking the news every single time, the max amount of news you were going to get was like an hour and a half. If you wanted more news than that, you read the newspaper. When my mom was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1960s), this would have seemed like an inordinate amount of news--for her, it was half an hour at 6pm and ten minutes at 10pm and then the station (there was only one station that did the news) played the National Anthem and went off the air until 6am, at which time you might get like . . . the weather and a traffic report.

For anything else, you read the newspaper.

Now with only half an hour to present a whole lot of news, what are you going to do? You are going to stick to the facts. You don’t have a choice. You have a very short time to fit a whole lot of information. “Notre Dame cathedral caught on fire today. French firefighters are working to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. In local news . . . “ And that’s it! If you want more information, you’ve got to wait for the newspaper in the morning, and you’re going to have to get a copy of the New York Times or USA Today, because the local paper will only have a blurb, and that blurb will mostly cover what you just heard!

But then the news changed.

By the time I was a teenager, the non-cable news looked like this: All three channels had a morning show that started at 5 or 6 am (depending on your station) and ran until 8 or 9 (depending on your station). The station that ended at 8am then had a half-hour morning news show. The mid-day news at 11 or 12 was still an hour. Channel 35 did a half-hour news segment at 5 and another at 5:30, back to back. The other two stations simply did an hourlong segment. And then one station did half an hour at 10:30, and the other two did hourlong segments at 10pm.

What do you do with that much time? Well, you expand. Yes, you can fit more news, but you can also fit more about the news. “Notre Dame cathedral in Paris went up in flames today. The fire began in the famous historic bell tower, and spread to the roof. At this time, portions of the roof appear to have caved in, and there are concerns about the integrity of the medieval stonework in the cathedral walls. French firefighters have been working since 8am Paris time to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. Some firefighters are also helping with this project, as portions of the building have become too unsafe to enter. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation late this evening and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. Of the cathedral itself, Somebody said, ‘Our Lady has weathered worse troubles than this. Paris as a city, and France as a nation, will overcome.’ In local news . . . ”

Still facts, but a few more facts. At this point the internet as a public thing is just past its infancy, and in theory you could go look up some stuff on, like, AOL, maybe, about what was happening.

(Nina, you were talking about antis . . . ?)

(Yes, I was. Bear with me.)

But at this point you also saw the rise of Fox News and CNN.

Now up to this point, I could trust the news. That is important to know. “Nina, American news is full of propaganda--” Listen, you’re not wrong, but the point is, if Scott Brennan told me Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics, I could safely assume Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics. If Channel 24 told me “the blizzard of the century” had occurred the night before, I could look out the window of my snowed-in house and go “yeah, that seems legit.”

I grew up, in other words, in a world in which facts were facts. We didn’t waffle or wring our hands over whether or not Notre Dame was on fire. And this allowed me to take a similar approach to fiction: it is a fact that murder is wrong, and knowing this, I can read a book in which someone commits murder for very good reasons, but still know they did something wrong.

But now you have 24 hours of news to fill.

No matter how you pad it, no matter how many voice clips you play or retrospectives you do, you cannot find enough news in the world to fill 24 hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year. You just can’t.

So they started adding “opinion pieces.”

Notre Dame is on fire--is it worth saving? Notre Dame is on fire--but is it as big a catastrophe as it’s made out to be? Notre Dame is on fire--but France has been steadily calling themselves a secular nation, so is this the punishment of G-d? Notre Dame is on fire--

--wait, what was that?

Yep. You saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. But as the “opinion pieces” slowly took over the regular news and stopped being called “opinion pieces” and started being called “programs,” it became less and less clear what was and wasn’t fact.

Now obviously Notre Dame is on fire. But now we have to ask ourselves: is it worth it to save it or not? Is the financial cost outweighed by the history? Will those answers change depending on how bad the damage becomes? And you, lonely elderly person in your chair whose predominant socialization these days is at church, how does this make you feel about French people? These are questions that once would have been asked of the church caretakers and the French government. Now every single person is being asked to think about them, without being provided all of the context that is available to the church caretakers and the French government. And along the way, you get these nice, nasty little bits of prejudice and slanted thinking and bias sneaked in.

I told you I’d come back to antis. And here we are.

The vast majority of antis are very young. They grew up in a world where those “programs” were the norm. They were not provided with a cultural basis of “these are the facts.” They were provided a basis of “here is what I think about the facts.” They were provided a basis of, as Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, “kindly do not cloud the matter with facts.”

There are no facts! Who fucking cares! An anti who’s 15 years old today was eleven years old when we were introduced to “alternative facts”! Is it wrong for a 27-year-old man to pursue a relationship with a 13-year-old girl? Depends on which news channel, and which presenter, you ask!

They literally grew up in a world in which critical thinking was discouraged. Once upon a time, you would have seen on TV that Notre Dame was on fire, and at dinner--or whatever your family did for together time--you might say things like “going to be expensive to fix that, I wonder what they’ll do,” but you wouldn’t have been hit with six presenters telling you exactly why Notre Dame should/shouldn’t be rebuilt. And don’t forget--even if you, personally, do not watch the news (or read it on the internet, which is just as bad, because everybody’s after those elusive advertising clicks, everybody needs the “scoop” two seconds before it happens), you know people who do. You hear their opinions and their hot takes and their retellings all around you. And those opinions and hot takes and retellings will be colored by which “program” that person saw first.

Watch the first thirty seconds of this:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn2RjahTi3M

Walter Cronkite, a legendary news anchor, giving his opinion on Vietnam. You will notice that he states, very clearly: “it seems very clear to this reporter.” This is Cronkite’s opinion, nothing more, and he makes it clear that he is speaking only for himself.

Now skip to approximately 1:05, and watch him report the Kennedy assassination. You can see he’s emotional, but also keeping it under wraps as best he can because he has An Important Job To Do, and that job is twofold: to deliver the news accurately and concisely, and to keep the American public calm (you can see this when he hurriedly says Johnson is probably taking the oath to become President; a missing VP would be a crisis at this moment). This is a man who’s just found out the most beloved president in modern times is dead. And not just dead--murdered. It’s not like Kennedy had a heart attack, his damn head was blown off. This news is still coming in so quickly that you can see him glancing off the screen to get fresh reports. He’s one of the first to receive this absolute blow--and he’s still holding it together, barely wavering. (When I was a kid, this role would go to Dan Rather. He was no Cronkite, but he tried.)

Where is that kind of rock for today’s teens? Imagine--heaven forbid, in the state our country’s in right now--that tomorrow we get the news Biden was shot.

How would we get that message?

Would it be delivered by an even-keeled, just-the-facts reporter like Cronkite? Or would we get it from a bunch of half-hysterical articles and crisismongering “programs”? And would it be delivered to us straight, like Cronkite did, or would it be buried in three days’ worth of opinions on his “legacy” and policies and What This Means For America?

Now: how are you supposed to build any kind of strong convictions and moral compass on a world like that? Where anything can be true if enough people have an “opinion” on it? Where the facts get immediately buried in a wave of bullshit?

Antis are reacting to a world of “opinions” and “programs” being thrown at them 24/7 by trying to create a world they can control, where there are in fact things that are true, in a world that has actively refused them the opportunity to learn how to parse and process facts. And so what they’ve come up with is this grossly distorted version of facts, because gross distortions of facts are all they know. It’s all they’ve ever seen. They’re perpetuating a system they don’t even realize they’re part of, because they never experienced life before it existed.

They’re not lying when they say they were heavily influenced by fiction because the bounds between fact and fiction have been actively erased. On purpose. And it’s difficult to grok that, if you grew up in a world where you didn’t have to go seek out photographic evidence to be absolutely certain that Notre Dame was, indeed, on fire.

So what we need to be doing, first and foremost, is rebuilding that wall of facts, that line of truth. Otherwise, what we’re going to see is more of this, but getting worse daily.

We set them up for this, and now we’re paying the price for it.

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slytherbun · 3 years

Text

wildflower

pairing: cedric diggory x hufflepuff!reader

summary: you weren't too sure what to think when a new eye candy transfers to hogwarts and becomes the new seeker of the hufflepuff's quidditch team but you realize in time that he is all of what you hoped for.

word count: 3.7k

tags: @specialagentsoftie

note: so this is all just a bunch fluff. i'm not sure how i feel about it in terms of cringey and hope y'all like it! figured i'd post this anyways either way though lol. i made up the way reader and cedric met at hogwarts so, it's non-canon from the movie.

another note: italics are flashbacks! :)

it was cold.

you could see everybody’s breath in the air outside and knew it was a crime to be out and about now with freezing and chilly weather.

the snow outside coated the ground by inches and the black coats zippered up and wrapped around you only helped so much. you were the type to freeze easily and the climate at hogwarts didn't help your situation at all.

minutes ago before you walked outside, you knocked on the door to his dorm after surveying the hufflepuff’s common room and noticed there weren't very many people around. and when cedric opened the door after you rapped on it a few times—he took in the view of your body wrapped around your blanket before pulling you into his room.

pathetically enough, you were shivering in the halls even with your mitten covered hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat. you weren't about to admit the doubled up socks on each of your feet either underneath the knee-length boots you wore today.

"are you cold?" cedric successfully taunted you when you reached your arm out of the pocket of your jacket and then under the blanket to slap his arm. he hissed and glared your way playfully while rubbing his arm dramatically.

you shrugged with a smirk on your lips and he plopped down onto his soft bed. “don’t get too comfortable.” he suggested when noticing you trying to sneakily get underneath his covers.

“what i’d do for one of those thermal blankets the muggles use.” you sighed dreamingly while watching him walk towards his closet.

“imagine having a postal company deliver the package to hogwarts? dumbledore would have an aneurysm.” cedric replied and you couldn’t help yourself when imagining the scenario playing out in your mind.

he turned to the side to admire your smile while you were a little distracted while pulling out a coat. then he closed the closet up and walked back over, holding it in your direction to offer an extra to put over your body. you gladly took it with a smile. "thanks ced."

cedric backed up a few steps and brushed a hand through his brunette hair. not being able to help himself he joked, “can’t have you walking around with your blanket wrapped around you. your height already makes you look so adorable.”

you got off from the bed when he exaggerated with your blanket in hand and scoffed. cedric bit his lip nervously while continuing to back up before he felt the wall pressed against him.

he rubbed the back of his nervously while you held the blanket up to his height and above your own head. “i’m just kidding.” he gulped before you took it and put it over his face.

when he tugged it down from his face he spotted you innocently standing by the door with his jacket around you. “i was going to leave it here anyway. just put it on the bed and i’ll come get it later after we get back.”

while you zippered it up you noticed this particular jacket was the one that you often saw him wearing before he ended up buying a new one for the upcoming winter that you were suffering in now.

and it was longer than the one you had previously put on about twenty minutes ago so, you couldn't argue with him on that steal.

"alright.” he laughed and added with a more serious tone. “oh and by the way—you don't need to thank me. you're my best friend, wildflower."

today was the first quidditch match of the season and you were sitting at the edge of your seat in anticipation. the hufflepuffs didn't score well last season and you were hoping they wouldn't come out with last place again for the year.

y/g/b/f (your girl best friend) sat down on the stands next to you with an umbrella in her hands. you turned and looked at it with a confused face. but she just smiled at your contemplating thoughts and looked up at the sky once before supplying you with an answer.

“well it looks bright now but i have a feeling it’ll rain later.” she always had a suspicion for when it was going to rain or snow and you never second guessed her because every single time she was right.

“did you know we’re having a new seeker play on the team today? i believe he’s going to be captain too if he plays his cards right this game.” she asked. you didn’t know that.

“wait is he the new guy everybody is talking about? i heard the rumors but you know how they are. i didn’t want to take it seriously until i saw it with my own eyes.” you stated and she nodded.

“yeah he’s a transfer i think but i’m not too sure. his name is cedric diggory though.” after her reply, you glanced around the stands to see if anybody had diggory signs for the game but with no avail you sighed. before you could respond you felt a few droplets on your shoulder.

your friend gave you a smart-ass grin and popped out the umbrella to hold it over the both of you. “guess we’ll see how good he is.” you mumbled before seeing the players come up to the playing area with their brooms.

butterbeer was pretty popular during the winter season. many students from school usually went and got some to help regulate their body temperature and keep warm.

everybody else must have gotten the same memo because you were inside the three broomsticks now for some butterbeer and it was crowded.

almost every table was filled with peers and that’s probably why you didn’t see many people in the school. with just one glance around the area, you could already tell the divided area’s of where each school was seated right away.

your tables were to the left area, the slytherins must have come earlier because they grabbed the back ones, some of the ravenclaw’s were off to the right, while harry and the other gryffindor’s had the middle area.

cedric nudged your side to grab your attention and nodded towards the hufflepuff area. “want to grab us some seats and i’ll get the drinks?” he asked and you nodded. “sure, could you get me a snack too if you don’t mind?”

he smiled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “i suppose i could.” cedric walked away with a wink and you shook your head knowing he was just humoring you.

little did you know he already had planned to get you something else even before the two of you left the dorms. it had gotten to the point where asking him for little things hadn’t bothered you because you reciprocated all of the time.

but sometimes cedric would give you little excuses when it was your turn to pay, just so he could end up paying for whatever you guys were having or getting. he always spoiled you.

"ah the golden girl is here." hermione scoffed and watched you walk towards the hufflepuff area. your other best friend was seated already and started talking to you when you sat.

the brunette from the red colored house didn't particularly dislike you since you were always nice. sometimes you chatted with her while working on a project that you were paired for. then other times you gave her a soft smile when catching her eye while walking in the halls towards your next class.

she definitely couldn’t help but respect and admire you.

but the reason she didn’t put herself out there and try to befriend you was because you were one of the girls known in school for your smartness, quick reflexes, and witty attitude.

when people from school talked about you and referred to you as the golden girl instead of your name most of the time—it wasn’t that you were golden per-say but the fact that it matched up perfectly with the school’s color that you sorted it.

hufflepuff was known for its represented yellow color.

and there’s no doubt about it that hermione was also known around the school. but, she felt it was for all of the wrong reasons. despite not having it any other way as one of harry's best friends, she wondered if not for him that in an alternate lifetime that she would be you.

“why is she wearing cedrics jacket?” ron asked after following hermione’s stare. harry thumped him on the back of his head and then shook his own. “why does it matter?” the one with a thunderbolt on his forehead replied.

“well it is interesting, isn’t it?” the brunette said in defense of ron’s question. the one who didn’t seem curious at all took a sip of the butterbeer in front of him.

he licked his lips, thinking then replied to them with a response. “i mean it’s not our business but it is an odd find now that you pointed it out. maybe he’s just being friendly?”

“as if! cedric has had a crush on y/n since he met her. she’s just oblivious to it all,” she paused and tapped her chin. “—or is she?” ron gasped at her accusation but took a sip of his own drink before she could hear his outburst.

harry noticed her getting riled up once again and sighed. “well i don’t know what else to say. maybe you should just introduce yourself already and ask her instead of me.” he shrugged and hoped to end the conversation there.

you knew exactly who cedric diggory was when he swiftly passed by the hufflepuff area during the game. of course, he was wearing yellow.

the game has been going on for a decent amount of time now and he was stacking up the scores on the quidditch board—easily passing by the score of the gryffindor’s team.

cedric was undoubtedly the new eye candy for the whole school with the gasps and ‘awes’ from the other girls sitting in the stand. your friend was so busy watching harry that she didn’t catch the commotion.

you didn’t really pay attention to him to get a good glance at his face so, you thought he was just another arrogant rich boy and rolled your eyes.

what you didn’t notice was the way it was like a slow-motion love at first sight situation for him when he went by. since it stopped raining through the middle of the game he was able to catch a quick view of you.

the week wasn’t done yet so it was possible he’d be seeing more of you in another class he hadn’t had yet. and cedric hoped you were because he couldn’t help but look over in your direction throughout the game to catch another glimpse of your face.

it was still humid outside and you tried wiping your makeup a few minutes ago since it was under your eyes now, but you only smudged it further. your robe was drenched with your wavy and half-dried hair now lying down the back of it.

but he didn’t care what you thought about yourself because he knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl there.

“cedric’s looking pretty good today.” y/g/b/f voiced for the first time today. you played with the napkin in your hand while trying to get a glimpse of cedric.

“i don’t think you would know even if he was—since you spend all your time looking at harry.” cedric was up to the counter now waiting for your butterbeer and food.

“uh huh. don’t think i haven’t admired cedric before from afar though.” after a moment of not answering her, y/g/b/f noticed that you weren’t paying attention. you knew exactly what she was hinting towards.

cedric did look good.

his hair had that ‘just woken up’ style to it and he always managed to look even more attractive then he should have. the yellow scarf wrapped around his neck was the one that came with every hufflepuff’s supplied uniform clothing.

he usually wore it when you sat with him in potions on a chilly morning and you caught yourself wanting to take it off of him and wear it sometimes.

he always smelled good and it comforted you in ways a best friend shouldn’t have the ability to.

you seemed to have let your guard down and stared longer then you should have which confirmed what y/g/b/f already knew. “i knew it!” she chuckled and stated more loudly than the last comment to snap you out of the zoned out state you were in.

“know what?” you asked while placing the napkin back down on your table.

cedric was reaching the table and you wanted the conversation to end quickly. you usually dragged out conversation topics like this so you had time to think of another one to distract her with. but, she always found a way to circle it back around again.

you had to shut it down before he could hear, already knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about again.

“i’ll tell you later before our curfew.” y/g/b/f smirked and you sighed knowing she would in fact take the time out of her night to find you before bed. lucky you.

“hey y/g/b/f. how has your day been?” he asked your other friend while sitting down and placing your refreshments in front of you and then doing the same with his.

she grinned at you then glanced over at him, “pretty good i guess if it wasn’t for this weather i would say great. how about you? and how’d you manage to get this one out?” she gestured towards you, causing you to roll your eyes.

here we go again.

you were walking down the path back to the hogwarts dorms with y/g/b/f and some others. there was going to be a small celebration in the hufflepuff’s common room and other students were trying to hurry back without raising suspicions with any professors nearby.

“hey, i’ll be right back y/n/n. i see luna and i’m going to go ask her if she has a hair tie.” she said and pointed to the curly knots that she had on her shoulders.

you nodded and continued along the path while she walked over to the other side. it was quiet for a moment and you surveyed the peaceful area, a few feet over in the grass was a small patch of flowers.

you were about to take a quick look at them before feeling someone tap your shoulder. it was sudden and you couldn’t help but quickly move to the side and form a fist. you were about to throw it but stopped when you stared wide-eyed at the person who scared you.

cedric felt awful and only after he startled you did he realize that you were looking off in the distance of the area. the way you jumped though seemed that you were quick on your feet and he couldn’t help but smirk at the new name he had for you.

“hey i’m sorry for startling you wildflower but i just wanted to introduce myself. i’m cedric diggory.” he introduced with a panty-dropping smile.

you weren’t sure if it was some kind of joke so you treaded carefully. “uh it’s okay, it’s my fault really for not paying attention but i’m y/n y/l/n. nice to meet you ced.”

cedric held out his hand for you to shake and you took it, giving him a firm shake. after you let go he smirked and questioned. “ced, huh?”

he crouched down to pick up a flower that you were looking at earlier and it reminded you to ask, “wildflower, huh?” you met his statement equally and folded your arms together so they were across your chest to look more tough.

his cheeks tinted a minor shade of pink and tried to hide his embarrassment by ducking down and ignoring your question. instead he glanced back up to tuck a hair behind your ear and then placed the flower there.

“yes, wildflower.”

and how could you argue with him when he was being so sweet?

the two of you made it back to the common room after an hour of eating, then chatting with cedric and your other best friend. he was sitting on the bed with you sitting next to him.

you’ve been sitting for only about a minute or so—only enough time to shrug off your jackets and place them on the desk chair between that time after walking back to his dorm.

“would you like to lay down for a few minutes?” cedric asked when he noticed the tiredness shown clear as day on your face.

“sure” you agreed and you laid down while he shook your blanket out for the two of you to use. his eyebrows scrunched together when he realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference in comfort with how small it was.

you chuckled watching him trying to maneuver it around and he glanced your way with a smirk of defeat. “hmm, seems this blanket is a little small. would you like to go under the covers?”

cedric was giving into what you wanted earlier before the two of you left and he knew that too. the three broomsticks' food was delicious as always and you just wanted to relax for a few minutes after getting teased by your friend.

he grinned watching you get comfortable after the both of you were situated under the sheets and yellow comforter. there was a hufflepuff patch ironed onto it and you rubbed your thumb over it while laying down.

it wasn’t that awkward since you’ve fallen asleep in his arms a couple of times before already. class exams were frustrating and took a lot out of the students so he took comfort in you and vice versa when there was some down time during the weekends throughout the school year.

with an arm around you—he pulled you close to the point where you could feel his warm breath along your neck. “i don’t think you realize how much i treasure these moments y/n/n.”

he spoke breathlessly and you gulped slowly. you were dumbfounded with how seriously he said that. as if it had some kind of hidden meaning behind it. “me too.” you agreed and wondered if he would leave it at that.

but you knew better and cedric never left well alone when he wanted to get a point across. he turned your body slowly with the arm he had around your middle and you faced him with confusion.

he glanced down once before looking back up and continued on with his confession while staring into your doe eyes—a color he deemed his favorite the day that he met you.

“i’ve been fighting myself for a while on whether or not i should tell you this because i didn’t want my feelings to ruin our friendship. i’d rather be your friend than not be a part of your life at all. and i always look forward to seeing you e-everyday.” he paused when his voice cracked.

after cedric cleared his throat he continued, “and i totally understand if you don’t share the same feelings with me but i just couldn’t go on another day without telling you how i—” you cut him off by leaning in and brushing your lips against his.

he moved closer on the bed, so his skin was touching yours. cedric wanted to get as close to you as he possibly could. your hand swept through his brunette curls and you surprised him by tugging it.

he never knew what you were going to do and his friends teased him that you were a wildcard, to which he’d correct them and say you were his wildflower.

cedric smirked into the kiss and you groaned knowing he was being a smart-ass. but in return, he shocked you when he placed a hand delicately on your cheek to cup it rather softly.

he rubbed your cheek while your hand massaged his curls and then moved them downwards to the nape of his neck.

cedric pushed the hair back from your neck with his hand and then placed it back so his thumb splayed across on your cheek in a loving gesture. and you only wanted him closer after feeling sensitive about the whole astonishment that still had you stunned to the core.

you tugged the collar of his shirt and he pulled away with puffy, red lips and a smile. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i’m just emotional.” you voiced squeakily and full of embarrassment about it. cedric shook his head and before patting his chest, he held up the comforter over the both of you and let the minimal cold air in.

“oh, baby it’s okay. come here and let's cuddle a little before curfew.”

you bit the bottom of your lip and nodded, giving him a smile in return to the one he gave you and then crawled onto him. “i think i like baby better.” you voiced and laid on his chest with your head over his heartbeat.

he let go of the comforter when he noticed you were settled and tugged it firmly around both of your bodies. “better then what?” he asked.

“wildflower.” you admitted and hummed nervously while awaiting his response. you felt cedric shake his head and he put his arms around your body so you were pressed firmly against him before he kissed your forehead.

“you’ll always be my wildflower.” you closed your eyes after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek in response.

after a moment of laying back down you could feel his chest rising up and down in an odd pattern so, you put your head up to see him laughing again at you.

“what now?” you questioned trying to keep a serious facial expression but failing when he grinned.

“guess you got what you wanted, hmm?” cedric said—referring to the fact that you were finally under the comforters and you smirked.

“of course i always do. including finally getting you, ced.”

459 notes · View notes

indiee19 · 3 years

Text

This Waiting Is Driving Me Wild

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: A buzzed haired Alex teases you all throughout an awards event; you reject him at first, and he makes you regret it later.

warnings: smut, light bondage, spit kink, edging

word count: 5.6k

-Requested from Wattpad

a/n: I have no damn clue if the kink shit is correct, so don't mind that, also I may change it later, so who knows

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You felt anticipation build up in the pit of your stomach whenever they announced the nominees for the best alternative album of 2018 category: Colors by Beck, Masseduction by St. Vincent, and Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by Arctic Monkeys.

You held your breath, every inch of your body hoping for Alex's band to win, then they called the winner.

"And the winner is ... Tranquility Base Hotel + Casino by the Arctic Monkeys," the presenter called, stopping in between words to read the winner of off the card. You and everybody else in the room clapped and as the band stood up, Alex gave you a kiss, then walked up to the stage with the rest of the band to accept the award.

He winked at you while he was walking up the stairs without anyone but you knowing, making you blush. He walked up to the stand and took the microphone from the lady, beginning to speak. "One, two. One, two, there we go. Well, I would first of all like to thank everyone who has supported us by listening to the album, buying it, and coming to our shows. I'm very glad that you all enjoyed it enough for us to win, and for that, I'd like to say thank you, this truly does mean a lot," he said, Matt and Nick chattering behind him.

Alex said thank you one last time before they walked off stage, walking back to the table, sitting down beside you. He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek, placing the award down on the table. They soon started to call the next award nominees, and most everyone paid attention to it, you included. Alex on the other hand was watching you and you saw out of the corner of your eye that he licked his lips, one of his hands coming up to your thigh, rubbing dangerously close to the hem of your dress, coming closer and closer to go under it.

You quickly grabbed his hand and pushed it away, leaning over to tell him something. "Alex, we can't, not here, not now. We're at an awards event, one where your album is nominated," you said sternly. He bit his lip and looked as if he was deep in though, which he normally was, always coming up with the perfect response to everything.

"But, baby, you look so sexy and I don't know how much longer I can wait to 'ave you," he said, whispering in your ear, rubbing your thigh again. You moved your hand over his to top him from moving up your thigh. You turned to pay more attention to the rest of the awards ceremony.

They called the next category and said the nominees' names, another host going up to the stage to announce the winner, everyone clapping their hands, you included, when they did. While the winner was giving a small speech, Alex leaned over and kissed your neck lightly, making you look back him and give him a glare as a warning to stop. He just smirked, knowing just how to get you riled up.

He leaned over, whispering another profanity in your ear. "Baby, you look so sexy in that dress. I can't wait to have you."

"Well, you have to wait," you replied, kissing his cheek, grabbing his hand to stop him from moving any further up your leg. You looked into his eyes, waiting for him to respond, but he didn't.

You tried to be patient, hoping that he would realize that you couldn't do anything with him at the moment, and maybe not at all tonight since you would get home late and be really tired - or at least that's what you thought.

The winner walked off stage and they started to announce the next category. Though as you watched and listened, Alex started back up again with his teasing, his hand now going up your dress, ignoring your previous warnings, finding its way to the hemline of your panties, toying with it.

"Alex," you warned, grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further than he already was. "I told you, you have to wait until we get home."

"But, baby, this waiting is driving me wild, and I know that it's driving you wild too, can't tell me otherwise," he said, getting more confident at the end of the statement. You laughed. "No, it's not actually. Because, unlike you, I'm not horny twenty-four seven," you said, turning away.

"Don't lie to me, I know 'ow horny you get. Remember the 2014 BRITS?" he said nonchalantly, whispering in your ear. You lied and said you didn't, but you did.

"God, Alex, please just take me already," you moaned, his tip teasing your entrance. You'd begged all throughout the awards ceremony for him to take you to the bathroom and fuck you, and he finally gave in, escaping the after party, leaving and going home.

He was now teasing you, making sure that you were a whimpering mess for him. He cocked his head and pushed himself all the way inside you.

It was a very, very long night.

"Yes, you do. You're thinking about it now, aren't you?" he said, kissing your cheek. You rolled your eyes and tried your best to ignore him, pushing his hands away, dodging his kisses, tuning him out, insisting that you talk to Katie and Jamie instead.

You were able to make it through another thirty minutes of the ceremony, Alex taking a break from being a narcissistic, horny, teasing asshole. Though after the thirty minutes was gone, he started right back where he started. It didn't matter how many times you told him no, your warnings only fueled him even more, getting bolder and bolder each time.

He leaned over to you when no one was looking, everyone else far too focused on the stage. "Baby, when we get home, I'm going to fuck you up," he whispered, gripping your thigh tightly. Though his words weren't abnormal for him, they did take you by surprise. You looked at him, surprised by his boldness to do that in front of everyone.

"Alex," you said, giving him a warningly look. He just smirked, more than likely planning how he was going to get you to beg for him by the end of the night.

He of course continued this behavior the rest of the awards show, making sure to tease you, placing kisses to your neck when no one was looking, whispering dirty profanities in your ear, rubbing up your thigh, eventually going under your dress to play with them hemline of your underwear .... again.

The event had ended and you and Alex were now at the after party, even though you hated parties. You were talking to Kelly and Nick, the only thing that would keep you sane at the moment, and you were congratulating Nick on the awards that they had won tonight. "Congratulations, Nick. You all deserve the award so, so much," you said.

"Oh, it's really nothing, but thank you anyways," he said, waving it off. Him and Kelly walked over to Jamie and Katie to talk to them, leaving you alone. You decided to go and find Alex, haven't had seen him in the past thirty minutes, wondering where he was.

You looked around for at least ten minutes, asking anyone you knew where he was, most of them not knowing themselves. You finally found him talking with Miles, who would have thought. The two most amazing friends hanging out together, you should have known.

Alex's back was facing you, so Miles noticed you first. "Oh, hey, love," he said, making Alex turn around. "Hey, Mi. Do you mind if I steal Alex away from you for just a minute?" you said, holding Alex's arm. He shook his head no and got up, leaving you and Alex alone.

"Alex, can we leave?" you asked. He smirked, taking your request the wrong way, thinking that you wanted him now. "You finally came to your senses, I see," he smirked, grabbing you by the waist, kissing your neck while no one was looking. You pushed him away for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

"No, Alex, not like that. I mean that I'm tired and want to go home," you explained. But he of course wouldn't take that as an answer, thought that you were just begging him for him to take you. He kept saying that you weren't tired and just decided that you wanted him, saying that you both could go to the bathroom instead of going home and leaving.

You kept trying to convince him, kept trying to prove that you were tired and you even brought up the fact that you hated parties to try and convince him.

Finally, you convinced him, and he was ready to take you home. "Fine, just let me have a smoke and we'll leave," he said, couldn't believe that you didn't want him. You nodded and stayed seated while he went outside to smoke.

You waited patiently - twenty-two minutes went by and still no Alex. You decided to go and look for him, then head out to the car. You quickly said goodbye to everyone and walked outside, immediately seeing Alex. He was done with his smoke, seemingly waiting for you. "You ready to leave, darling?" he asked, smirking, still not believing that you wanted to go home because you were tired.

"Yes, I am, Al," you said, taking his hand, Alex leading you to the car, opening the door for you, walking around to the other side to get in, starting the car. And finally, after three long hours of his teasing, it was time to leave and go home, and just like before, Alex of course had to tease you to his fullest extent. "Can't believe that you didn't want me earlier," he said, his voice suggestive.

"I always want you, Al, but I'm tired. I'm ready for bed," you said. You were very tired, the amount of interviews Alex was in tonight, the waiting, killed you, the amount of times you had to push Alex's hand away and tell him no, and then the after party that you had practically begged for Alex to take you home. And Alex being, well, Alex, took your begs as requests for him to take you home and fuck you, and you had to convince him that it was because you were tired, which took a lot of convincing that wore you out.

You were glad when you and Alex finally got home, you were ready to go to bed, but Alex had other plans, immediately slamming you against the wall, kissing you deeply. If you were tired before, you surely weren't now, the heat of the kiss waking you up fully from your sleepy state.

He grabbed the underside of your thighs, signaling for you to jump and you did. Alex carried you down the hallway all the way into the bedroom, almost throwing you on the bed. He began to rid you of your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and underwear, kissing you everywhere he could. You tried to unbutton his shirt, but he quickly pushed your hands away, not allowing you to touch him.

Alex leaned down and captured you lips in a hard, passionate kiss, you hands going around his neck, scratching at the fuzz on the back of his neck. He bit you bottom lip, slipping his tongue past your lips, exploring you mouth. You could taste the wine and beer he'd had at the event, as well as the last cigarette he smoked right before you left the after party.

You felt him hard against your leg, his cock straining in his tight trousers. He pulled away from the steamy kiss unexpectedly, starting to crawl down your body, kissing down your neck, collarbone, breasts, stomach, stopping at your abdomen, just above where you needed him, the ache between your legs more prominent than it had been all night long.

He looked up at you, your eyes locking with his. "Alex, please," you begged, desperate for him now.

"Look who's begging for me to fuck you now," he smirked, the cocky tone in his voice obvious. You begged him some more with your eyes, eventually getting exactly what you wanted. He pulled down your underwear with his teeth, and you kicked them off into the floor. Alex nudged your thighs apart with one of his hands and started to kiss up your thighs, stopping when he reached your core, blowing on it, sending shivers up your body.

He waited a moment, and you were about to beg him again, but he quickly dipped his head down, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat, using his hands to hold your thighs as far apart they could go. And then his tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal.

He moved down to your dripping wet cunt, sticking his tongue inside of you, knowing how crazy it would drive you. You gripped the sheets, balling them up in your fists, needing to have something to hold on to, his hair not nearly long enough for you to do that.

Alex lifted his head up from your heat, wiping his face that was slick with your arousal. "Knew you wanted me. You're so wet, baby," he drawled, looking at the mess he had made of you in barely seven minutes.

He dipped his head back down to your heat again, his hands gripping your thighs tightly, holding them far apart. His tongue kept poking inside of you, and you writhed underneath him, the feeling too good, he was too good.

He moved his mouth back over to your clit, sucking it into his mouth, quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, starting to pump them in and out of you slowly, setting a pace to your dismay. Though the pace wasn't nearly what you wanted, it drove you wild. He'd done this so many times, drove you wild so many times, that he knew exactly how to drive you mad, knew exactly how to make you feel so good.

You started to absent mindly grind your hips on his face, desperate to try and get his fingers to go faster in and out of you and to sink deeper inside of you. Alex chuckled against your skin, vibrations shooting up your body, and he took one of his hands and placed it on your hip to hold you down.

He quickly started to move his fingers faster, your orgasm getting closer and closer. "Alex, I-I'm so close," you said, voice trailing off into a moan as he had pressed down on your clit. He pressed down on your clit harder and with that, you shook, your orgasm washing over you.

You gripped the sheets tighter and wrapped your legs around Alex's head, his hand still on your hips. He kept moving his fingers, and you rode out your high. Alex sat up, removing his fingers from you and you whimpered at the loss of contact. He sat up, wiping his face that was, once again, slick with your arousal. You looked up at him, meeting eyes with him, seeing only lust in them. "How many do you think you can do?" Alex asked, removing his shirt, standing up to remove the rest of his clothes, leaving his bandanna neck scarf, which you didn't think much of at the moment, and you wasted no time before sitting up to help him out of his pants, stroking his cock when you removed his boxers.

He was painfully hard, precum forming on his tip that was a slight reddish purple color. He pushed you back down on the bed, sitting over your hips, straddling you. "I think that I can do th-three - oh," you said, moaning when he pushed your legs apart and pushed himself inside you, his head dropping down on your shoulder, biting down on it, sure to leave a mark.

He gave you very little time to fully adjust, starting to move once he regained some of his composure. He pulled almost all the way out of you before slamming back into you, gripping your hip with one hand, the other one holding himself above you.

Your hands ghosted over his toned chest, stopping at his broad shoulders, gripping onto them tightly, your nails digging into his skin. Alex started moving faster - much, much faster. Your eyes closed automatically, the way his cock stroked your walls felt too good, driving you mad. One of your hands moved up to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his freshly buzzed head.

Your moans got louder as he fucked you harder, faster, and more mercilessly, taking good care of you like he always did. Alex's hand that was on your hip moved to rub vigorously on your clit, thrusting in and out of you faster and faster. Alex delivered a very hard thrust, hitting the spongey spot that made you see stars, flicking your clit, sending you over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back into your head, your grip on his shoulders tightening, so much so that you were sure that you would leave a mark. You rode out your high, Alex's movements not even slowing, but going faster.

Moans fell from your mouth, getting louder and louder. You'd just come down from your second orgasm, you were tired and sore and wore out, and you didn't know how much more you could take. Alex's head dropped down on your shoulder, placing kisses to it, eventually settling on a spot and sucking harshly on it.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your feet locking at the back, and you started to grind onto him to meet his movements, the pleasure becoming too much for you to handle. A knot started to build up in the pit of your stomach, your third orgasm approaching you faster than the previous two had.

"God, love, you feel so fucking good," Alex grunted, punctuating each word with a hard thrust, flicking your clit along with each thrust. And with that, you shook, your third orgasm washing over you, riding out the intense waves of pleasure. You felt pure euphoria and bliss. You held onto Alex tightly, your legs tightening as your cunt contracted around him, drawing him in, holding him close.

You came down from your orgasm, opening your tightly shut eye, Alex's movements stopping. You untangled your legs and unwrapped your arms from around him, and he pulled out of you, sitting up on his knees, gripping the base of his cock tightly. He was clearly struggling to hold on himself, the sight of you coming undone just enough for him, and the sight could've solely made him come undone.

"Turn around, doll. On all fours," he drawled, motioning for you to turn around. You looked at him, didn't know how much more you could take, thought that you both agreed on three. "A-Alex, I don't know how much more-" you tried to say, but he cut you off.

"You can take it, and you will take it," he said. You hesitantly sat up, turning around. You looked over your shoulder at Alex. He was lining himself up with your entrance; you felt his tip poking inside of you, making you whimper out. "A-Alex."

He smirked and pushed inside you, bottoming out in one swift thrust. His hand soothed down your back, finding its way to your shoulder and he gripped it tightly, starting to thrust almost immediately. You closed your eyes tightly, the feeling already starting to become too good.

You moaned loudly when Alex began to thrust into you hardly, moving his hand from your shoulder to your hair, gripping it. His pace increased gradually, each thrust getting faster and harder. "Yes, fuck, baby, you're so wet for me," Alex groaned, somehow increasing his pace.

"A-Alex ... fuck ... faster," you whimpered, feeling a knot form in the pit of your stomach, your orgasm approaching very, very quickly.

"Givin' orders now, are we?" Alex spat, slowing his pace before slamming back into you hardly.

"I-I'm sorry," you whimpered. Alex moved his hand that was on your hip to your clit, rubbing harshly on it, and his hand that was in your hair moved down to cup your throat, pulling you flat against his chest. Sweat pooled on Alex's chest and forehead. His hand that was on your neck moved around your body to grab your breast, fondling it.

You needed something to hold on to, so your grabbed his arm that was across your front, holding on tightly, your other hand moving to the back of his head, scratching at the fuzz on his nape.

Alex's thrusts got faster and harder, and he rubbed more vigorously on your clit. You were so close, could practically taste your orgasm approaching. Alex thrusted up into you and that was almost enough for you, just one more and you were gone. But before you could, Alex stopped his movements and pulled out of you.

You were confused, had thought that he needed his release just as much as you, so you slowly turned around to face him and you propped yourself up on your elbows. "Alex, w-why'd you stop?" you questioned. He was looking you up and down.

"You was getting way too grabby for me liking," he drawled, crawling back over you. He removed his bandanna from around his neck, grabbing your wrists, bringing them up to the headrest, tying your hands to it with his bandanna. "There, that's better, innit?" he said, sitting up and straddling your hips once again, looking at the sight of you in front of him.

He started to kiss down your body, biting and leaving marks wherever he could. Once he reached your abdomen, he moved down to your heat, placing wet, sloppy kisses to your heat once again. His tongue lapped at your folds, spreading around your arousal. His hands gripped your thighs and you pulled on your restraints, desperate to hold onto something as leverage.

Alex moved down to your entrance, sticking his tongue inside of you, beginning to fuck you with it. One of his hands moved to your abdomen to keep your hips down after you started to grind on his face again, and he started to rub on your clit with his thumb on that hand. He was making you feel so, so good, but then again, when didn't he make you feel amazing?

Your moans got louder as he rubbed on your clit and moved his tongue faster, gripping your thigh tightly with his other hand. Soon he removed his hands from you altogether and moved his tongue back to your folds, pressing down on your clit with it, instead using his fingers to fuck you, moving them in and out of you at an alarmingly fast rate. He never let you get used to a feeling for very long, alternating between pressing down on your clit and moving his fingers quickly to lapping at your folds and slowing his fingers.

As you kept tugging on your restraint, the headrest started to bang against the wall, the noise echoing through the room, filling it along with your moans and whimpers. You instinctively wrapped your legs around Alex's head, drawing him in closer. He chuckled against your skin, send vibrations up your body, tipping you over the edge.

You tugged harshly on your wrists, the waves of pleasure washing over you. You moaned loudly, tightening your legs around Alex's head, crying out his name over and over. "F-fuck, Alex, fuck," you whimpered.

You came down from your high, and you were so sure, positive even, that Alex had had enough and would give you a break, but no, he kept going, moving his fingers and lapping at your folds like nothing had happened. Because to him, nothing did happen, so he just kept on.

He moved his fingers faster, curling and twisting them deep inside of you, making you cry out his name. The feeling of his fingers stroking your walls just right, the feeling of his mouth covering you heat over and over made you feel an indescribable feeling of pleasure. You were absolutely positive that there was a mark on your wrists from Alex's bandanna and were sure that Alex had many various handprints decorating your body which would no doubt last at least a week, maybe even more.

Alex had begun to suck your clit into his mouth, occasionally pressing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Alex looked up at you, and your eyes met and he saw just how amazing he was making you feel and he smirked against your skin, and you could feel him do it too. HIs grip on your abdomen had loosened up quite a bit and you started to grind onto his face again, trying get his fingers to sink deeper into you, to get some sort of friction since he ceased all movement of his fingers. Surprisingly, he didn't make you stop, he just let you move your hips freely. allowing you to make yourself feel good on his fingers. Though, in the back of your mind you knew that he wasn't stopping you for a reason, no doubt planning another way to make you come undone for him by his own means, his own rules, and by his own doing.

You were so close, nearly there, just needed to feel him curl his fingers inside of you, which he did while you were moving your hips, one more time. You were just about to let go whenever he stopped, pulling away from your heat, removing his fingers, making you whimper, and he sat up, leaving you barely on the edge, your orgasm so close, but so far away as it began to fade away.

"Wh-what? N-no, no, Alex," you said, your need to let go growing quickly by every passing second, the need to feel him inside you growing as well. "What, doll? What do you need?" Alex asked as he moved over you, his arms keeping him above you.

"I-I need you," you whimpered, Alex's promise of saying that he was going to 'fuck you up' coming true.

"'ow bad do you need me?" he drawled, slowly kissing up your neck, biting down on a spot. You whimpered. "I need you s-so bad, Alex." He chuckled, thinking of something for a moment, quickly giving telling what you needed to do. "You want me, then spit in me mouth," he said nonchalantly.

You were confused for a moment. You knew that he had a spitting kink, but he never showed any part of it in all the time that you two were together. You took a moment to think about it before you nodded and he opened his mouth and you spat in his mouth. You weren't proud of what you just did, but if it meant that Alex would fuck you, then you didn't care.

"Oh, and one more thing, baby ... you 'ave to promise me that you won't come until I say you can, okay?" Alex said. You nodded, how hard could that be?

He nodded in response before nudging your thighs apart with his hand and you sighed whenever he aligned himself up with your entrance, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside you, bottoming out in two pushes. His head fell down on your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of your walls contracting around his cock, stretching to accommodate for his size.

Once he regained some sort of control, he pulled almost all the way out of you, slamming back inside you very quickly, starting to set a very, very fast pace. You pulled on your wrists again, hoping that maybe you'd loosened the knot that Alex had tied them in the bandanna with. You wanted your hands free of it, needed to touch him, to hold on to something, only if he would untie you.

His hands were firmly planted in the mattress beside your head, holding him up above you. You closed your eyes tightly, reveling in the way Alex's cock stroked your walls so good, but they quickly opened whenever Alex stopped moving. "Alex?" you asked, searching for his eyes.

"I want you to look at me the entire time, alright?" he said, and you quickly nodded, desperate for him to move again.

Alex started to move again, his eyes never once leaving your own. You tried your best to hold on, trying to fulfill his wish of you not to let go until he said so. But the feeling was getting to be too much for you, the knot forming in your stomach once again. The way he was stroking your oversensitive walls, thrusting into you hardly was enough for you, and you let go, eyes rolling into the back of your head, your walls contracting around Alex's cock, riding out your high.

Your moans filled the room and you came down from your high, opening your eyes. You were sure that Alex wouldn't give you anything else, wouldn't give you what you wanted having done the one thing he said not to do. You were panting heavily now, the feeling too overwhelming, too much for you to handle.

"Done?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at you.

"Yes," you managed to say, avoiding his eyes.

"Good," he said nonchalantly. Alex leaned down to kiss you, it wasn't a deep kiss, but instead it was a soft, slow, and passionate kiss, full of his love and adoration for you. He pulled away and pushed a piece of your hair out of your face, smiling down at you. "You think you can do one more, love?" he asked. You were tired and sore and worn out, having been pushed over the edge several times already and weren't fully sure if you could do one more, even though it was just one. But there was something about the way he asked you, the way he smiled, and you couldn't say no to him, especially with the way he was looking at you right now.

"Y-yeah, I can do one more," you choked out. Alex mumbled something incoherent before starting to move slowly. He knew how sensitive you were now and didn't want to do anything that might cause even the slightest bit of discomfort to you, but still making sure that you felt amazing.

The mood in the room had juristically changed. He was still dominant and had all the control, but he wasn't spitting out demands or teasing you anymore, just focused now on getting the two of you there, wanting you to feel good.

Though he didn't want to cause you discomfort, he did start to increase his pace, not by much, but going faster than before and one of his hands came down in between your bodies to rub light circles in sync with his thrusts on your clit, applying more pressure ever so slightly to it every now and then. He had just restarted his movements and you were already so close to the edge again. It took just one flick of your clit and Alex's cock nudging that spot inside you that had stayed unattended to before and that sent you spiraling.

Your walls contracted around his cock for the last time of the night, drawing him in, triggering his own release. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you felt his hot release coat your walls as he groaned, the both riding out you highs. You felt pure euphoria and bliss once again as you came down, Alex coming down from his high as well, head falling on your shoulder. He laid on top of you for a few minutes, regaining some of his strength before pulling out of you with a sigh, laying down beside you. You were panting heavily, pulling on your wrists once again. "Alex," you sighed.

He looked at you, saying your name, looking you up and down, starring at your restraints. "Oh, I'll untie you," he said, reaching up and untying your wrists, throwing his scarf on the ground, pulling you close to him even though you were both hot, sweat pooling on Alex's forehead and chest.

"C'mere, me love," he said, holding you tightly. Even though you had come down from your orgasm, you were still panting heavily, trying to breath. "Hey, hey, breath, me love, breath. I've got you," Alex said calmly, rubbing your hair comfortingly.

You both sat there for a minute so that you could catch your breath. once you did catch your breath, you laid your head on Alex's chest. "I love you, Al," you said, looking up at him.

"I love you, too, me love," he said kissing you lovingly. "Are you alright? Did I 'urt you?"

You shook your head. "You could never hurt me, Alex," you said. "But, now I'm really tired and want to sleep, so can we talk in the morning?"

"Yeah, love, we can. Goodnight," Alex responded, pulling the duvet over you two. You told him goodnight and soon fell asleep in his arms, him following not long after you.

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miakwat · 3 years

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Been thinking about the Ninjago Comics recently because somebody brought it up one time and I latched onto it so I’d like to highlight the aspects of them I like

-They actually acknowledge Kai’s blacksmithing background? Granted it was only brought up in two of them but thank you comics for giving Kai a hobby outside of being a ninja 😌

-There’s a mini plot where Cole has to save Kai and Jay (idk why they didn’t include Zane???) from Samukai and I’d like to thank the comics for the dumbassshipping content

-We actually see Kai and Nya interact with the villagers in Ignacia and they just don’t seem to question why the teenaged blacksmith is suddenly a red ninja with a glowing fire sword

-Also, everybody seems to know Kai (and by extension probably Nya) and seem to be on a first name basis with him (and, once again, probably Nya)

-6/11 of the comics include one or more the ninja turning evil or being impersonated and shown in a bad light in some way???

-Wu is impersonated by a shapeshifting mist man in volume 2, and the way Cole realizes its not actually Wu is when mist man is absolutely revolted by the thought of drinking tea

-Mist man cant touch water or else he dies (or gets sent to the underworld, idk) (Also season 5 who?)

-Two of the comics include a mist man who impersonates the ninja, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice

-There’s a comic where Jay, Kai, and Cole are hypnotized by the hypnobrai and Zane has to save them (even if it lasted like three panels thank you for the evil dumbassshipping content lego, very cool)

-Kai and Cole fight Jay (who snapped out of the hypnotism) and Zane and let me just say, I have evil Lavashipping brainrot now

-Jay knows how to do spinjitzu sitting down

-Lloyd is only in 3/11 of these comics??? And one of those times he only makes a brief appearance????? Like I’m pretty sure they just forget Lloyd existed

-Jay just goes to an alternate reality

-In said alternate reality Zane works at a circus and Kai has an eyepatch for no reason at all???

-They visit a town called Garmadon City

-The people in Garmadon City have been turned to stone people because of some curse and out of the OG 4 for some reason only Kai and Cole are affected and not Jay or Zane?

-Also, an occurrence of almost evil Lava boyfriends

-It’s implied that Kai just brings matches with him wherever he goes

-Garmadon tells Kai to “stfu before you die” but in a kid friendly way

-Kai is just really untrusting towards Garmadon in vol 8 (which takes place after the final battle) until the end where they come to an understanding and honestly? I liked that. It feels really in character for Kai and answers my question of why he didn’t get worked up at all when they decided to work with Garmadon in S3

-Lloyd looks like this in the last comic he plays a big role in

-Zane does a triple cross in vol 9?? And it made no sense???? But good job you funky Nindroid you did your best

-Seliel was cool and I think it’d be very swag if we got more content of her I say, not making any move to make content of her myself

-The last volume takes place while they’re on the asteroid in S3??? But Lloyd’s not there????

-I would’ve forgiven Lloyd’s absence if they hadn’t acknowledged his existence???????

That’s it

I just think we should appreciate the comics more, even if they all look really stiff from vol 4 and onward 😔

#ninjago #cole brookestone #lloyd garmadon #zane julien #kai smith #jay walker #sensei garmadon #nya smith #sensei wu #lavashipping #dumbassshipping

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theradioghost · 2 years

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@damienthepious replied to your post:

👀 whatttttt what is this. i was already sold and then u said 'gigantic terrifying socialist lizard son' and my soul left my body

oh god. so I cannot recommend reading these books necessarily on the strength of this ship alone because 1. one of the characters involved doesn’t even appear until the third book in this nine-book series 2. said series involves a lot of travel in the early 1800s and my beloved globetrotting saboteur and international man of mystery Tenzing Tharkay dips in and out of the picture for whole books at times, BUT,

these are quotes from the Temeraire novels, which are about an alternate history version of the Napoleonic wars where everybody has (sapient) dragons and dragon-riders, except actually they’re about tall ships and the importance of supply lines in warfare, except actually they’re about the indescribably deep bond between a fundamentally good man with the major character flaw of being Too British and the twenty-ton impulsive socialist firebrand dragon for whose sake he would (and does) make the great empires tremble, except actually it’s about Captain William Laurence’s ever-increasing collection of small children he somehow acquires while literally traveling around the world at nineteeth century speeds and also the world’s most long-suffering and least lucky gay man and his even more impulsive massive spiky firebreathing narcissist, except actually it’s about how Admiral Jane Roland could do literally anything she wanted to me

like literally any media it’s not without its flaws (some of them big) but what it does right it does so right I am haunted by it eternally

also, and I can’t stress it enough, despite everything the canonical ending is that Laurence and Tharkay and Temeraire move in together in Scotland and Temeraire gets a seat in Parliament to terrorize the aristocracy with forevermore, and I cannot complain about that (except that, despite all the jokes about how Literally Everyone writes a fic about the idiots finally kissing in Scotland, there are still far, far too few fics about the idiots finally kissing in Scotland???)

#my posts #castiel in supernatural who. the only Best Character Who Comes Into The Story Late that *I* care about #is Tenzing Tharkay

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not-the-tie-youre-looking-for · 3 years

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Something that's been bugging me for years since the Legends finale. If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do you think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out? On the one hand, from Legends Thrawn's portrayal I imagine he would without a second of hesitation. On the other, Canon Thrawn has been much more... restrained? And on a third point, there's the fact that Legends and Canon Thrawn seem like they really could be the same person just at different points of time. cnt in next

...I'm just curious if anyone else was curious if Zhan agreed with that direction taken. Which, on that note, did Zhan ever say anything about his thoughts on how Rebels handled Thrawn? Both from a writing standpoint as well as an acting and musical one (Thrawn's various leitmotifs)?

Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh maaaaan. My friend, you have asked exactly the right person this question, because not only have I wanted to talk about this multiple times before, but I also have ~receipts~. 👀

⚠️Spoiler warnings for Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, the canon Star Wars novels Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Thrawn: Treason, Thrawn Ascendency: Chaos Rising, and Thrawn Ascendency: Greater Good, and the legends Star Wars novels Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, and Outbound Flight.⚠️

Oh man. Where to begin.

Lets start with who Thrawn is, because depending on who you ask, you're gonna get different answers—whether you're strictly a Legends fan, Dave Filoni, a guy who's only seen Thrawn in Star Wars: Rebels, Timothy Zahn, or just a writer/artist fan like me.

To Timothy Zahn, the man behind our favorite chiss, Thrawn is a character that is constant in both attitude and personality throughout all of his content. In multiple interviews, ranging from Thrawn's debut in Rebels to the latest about the writing of the Ascendancy Trilogy, Zahn states that Thrawn in canon and Thrawn in Legends are indistinguishable.

And so I present the receipts:

In a 2017 interview with The Verge on writing the first canon Thrawn book Thrawn, Zahn is asked the following question and responds as such:

How do you navigate bringing back a character who already has an extensive backstory and audience expectations, with telling a new story that fits in the new continuity?

Actually, I didn’t find that to be a problem. I’d never written Thrawn in this part of the Star Wars timeline, so it was simply a matter of bringing him into the Empire and chronicling his rise through the ranks. It’s still the same character as in the 1990s books, just a decade or two younger and in a very different military and political environment.

In another interview with The Verge in 2018 (a few months after the finale of Rebels aired) about writing Thrawn: Alliances, he repeats this sentiment twice:

Thrawn feels like if it had been written before the canonization purge a couple of years ago, or if you squinted a bit, it would serve as a perfect setup for Heir to the Empire.

Oh, I don’t think you need to squint at all. I wrote him in these two books to fit in with everything else I’d done. So if someone at Lucasfilm snapped their fingers, and suddenly all of my other books were canon, and there would be no real retrofitting that would have to go in. It would all fit together.

Thrawn: Alliances feels more at home in the new canon, especially because Thrawn has been fleshed out a bit more in Rebels. Was there any adjustments for that?

Not really. I’m getting to play with more canon characters like Vader and Padmé and Anakin, but the character himself, I still see him as the same person. He’s got goals, and he won’t necessarily share them with you, but he as long as you’re going the same direction, he’s happy to cooperate and assist along the way.

...and this is referenced again in a 2020 interview with Polygon about writing Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising:

Along with Thrawn’s appearance in Rebels, Zahn would pen a new novel, Thrawn, that chronicled the character’s early days as an Imperial officer. Zahn didn’t have to change anything with the character, telling me in 2017 that “he’s like an old friend who I understand completely.” While Heir to the Empire was no longer canon, a reader could easily read Thrawn as a precursor to that classic novel. Thrawn went on to become a major presence in Rebels, and Zahn continued to explore his origins in Thrawn: Alliances and Thrawn: Treason.

The next day, an interview with IGN was published on the same subject:

Thrawn is an especially unique case because Zahn has been able to effectively continue the work he started way back in 1991 with Heir to the Empire. That novel may not be a part of official Star Wars lore any longer, but as Zahn explained, Thrawn himself is basically the same character regardless of continuity.

[....] The closest comparison between Chaos Rising and Zahn's earlier EU work is probably 2006's Outbound Flight, which is set during the Clone Wars and details the first encounter between Thrawn and the Galactic Republic (while also retroactively laying the groundwork for elements of Heir to the Empire). That novel is no longer canon, but Zahn told us he prefers to operate as if it were. He's making a concerted effort not to retread the same ground as Outbound Flight and to avoid contradicting the events of that novel as much as possible.

So yeah. In Zahn's opinion, Legends Thrawn is Canon Thrawn is Book Thrawn, and there is no difference whatsoever between Thrawns in, say, Outbound Flight, Heir to The Empire, Alliances, and Chaos Rising. I wholeheartedly disagree, but lets move on.

Now that the books are out of the way, its time for Rebels.

In July of 2016, after the trailer announcing Thrawn's canon debut aired, Dave Filoni had the following to say about Thrawn's character in regards to Timothy Zahn:

“I was pretty adamant with a couple of people saying, ‘Listen, we need to have Tim sign off on this. This is kind of a waste of time [otherwise],'” says Filoni. “We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns, but without Tim’s okay, what does it mean? That’s not going to be good. Once we had some stuff, we wanted to do what we thought was right and make the character. Then we brought him in. We had the production fully prepared. I said, ‘Look, if there’s something that Tim says that I think is really valuable, even if it changes something dynamically, we need to be ready for that and see what we can do.’ I wanted to make sure we did this right by everybody. We brought him in and we didn’t really tell him why. We just flew him up to Lucasfilm and sat him down in a theater and said, ‘Hey, we’re bringing Thrawn into the show.’ He was like, ‘Wow.’ and I said, ‘Yeah, wow. And I’m going to show him to you right now and you let me know what you think.'”

(Before we continue, keep that first highlighted sentence in mind for future reference. I'm going to come back to that later.)

Fortunately, Timothy Zahn was delighted at the show’s approach to the Empire’s imposing blue-skinned Chiss.

“We showed him some of the scenes with him,” Dave Filoni recalls. “He looked like a kid in a candy store. I think it meant a lot to him not just because it was his character, but because you have to imagine what he went through when it was announced that everything is Legends now, not Expanded Universe. I get that and I’ve always appreciated the work that goes into the Expanded Universe… For Tim, I think it was us saying, ‘No, no, no. We really like your character. We want him to be part of the real thing. The canon universe.'”

So in 2016, before we even saw Thrawn in action beyond a trailer, we were told that Zahn gave the OK, and he was chill with the way Thrawn was created in the show. In 2017, he gave a little more of the background of this process in an interview with FANgirl Blog:

The events of Thrawn dovetail closely with Rebels and shed light on some of Thrawn’s more seemingly surprising actions on the show, like when he appears to lose his temper and yell at Lieutenant Lyste. What was it like to see Thrawn come alive onscreen? Is he how you’ve pictured him in your head?

I don’t see my characters in terms of voice or appearance, but rather as personality or attitude. That said, I very much enjoyed the way the Rebels team brought him to life, in his appearance, voice, and actions.

I also appreciated the freedom I had to tweak certain incidents, such as the one you mentioned, and give additional or alternate explanations for the viewers who may have thought those were somewhat out of character for him.

He doesn't really elaborate on this, but we can assume he had SOME creative input on Thrawn's character, and he was overall pretty happy with the choices made in the show.

But then, we have this from that earlier 2017 the Verge article:

When did you learn that Dave Filoni was intending to bring Thrawn to Rebels, and did you have any input into how the character would be handled?

[...] I didn’t have any real input into how Thrawn was going to be handled, mainly because the lead time of an animated series is so long that much of season 3 had already been finished. But I trusted Dave and the team to do the character right. After all, why bring him into Rebels if you were going to drastically change him? Having seen the entire season now, I think we can agree that my trust was completely justified.

So... he didn't have "any real input," but was satisfied with it in the end? I guess? I don't know. We're getting into some contradictions now.

The last thing I've got in regards to Rebels is an interview Zahn did with the YouTube channel Star Wars Explained after the finale aired, where he responds to the following:

“So, maybe let's jump over to Rebels for a little bit. Now that it has wrapped up, how do you feel Thrawn was represented in Star Wars: Rebels?”

“They did a really good job—they not only understood the character and how to write for him, but they also understood the meta around how you defeat him. The only way to defeat Thrawn is to throw something at him he can't control, or can't anticipate. Given perfect knowledge and control, Thrawn will always find a way to win. But they understood, this is how you defeat him, these are the things we can use against him... so his portrayal in general, is very good; he's smart, he's anticipating, he's a step ahead of everybody, he's looking at clues and picking up on them, so I was very pleased with how the Rebels team handled the character."

I think these quotes answer many of your questions, so to answer your initial question: If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do I think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out?

Yes—but ONLY because at that point, the only established™️ Thrawn content was found in Legends, where Thrawn was a ruthless and calculating warlord.

However!

I do believe that if given the chance to re-write the Star Wars: Rebels finale using his now-canon novels as a solid background TODAY, Zahn would choose to not let Thrawn bombard Lothal's Capital City.

I believe this because he made one single very interesting creative choice when writing Thrawn that completely overwrote Thrawn's pre-established Rebels character: Thrawn was not responsible for the civilian deaths on Batonn—Pryce was.

And that's that on that.

A few months ago I would have ended it there, but today, Thrawn's story is no longer just contained in the novels and Rebels, but also in that of The Mandalorian.

This is where I will proudly say I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Before The Jedi aired, I was 100% sure that the next time we saw Thrawn, it would be nowhere NEAR the Empire, because Zahn was pretty adamant in the novels that Thrawn was only in the Empire to help. His. People.

So now he's apparently doing fuck-knows-what in fuck-knows-where and is STILL associated with the Seventh Fleet and Imperial Warlords???

Huh??? Despite the fact that he held no true loyalty to the Empire or to the Emperor??? It's been months and I'm still confused as fuck. Add to the fact that Zahn also doesn't know what the fuck is going on to the equation and we get a big fat question mark with one pretty clear answer that Filoni said himself that we have to keep in mind:

"We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns."

So I don't think Zahn has much control over Thrawn as we would all like to think. We can hope he gives us the crazy Thrawn and Ezra Space Adventure™️ novel all we want, but ultimately, Thrawn's fate does not rest in his hands.

If you guys have more to add please let me know!!! This is, obviously, a topic I am very passionate about, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

#tye answers asks #not the post youre looking for #thrawn #timothy zahn #thrawn trilogy #legends thrawn #star wars #rebels #lothal #star wars rebels #dave filoni #thrawn ascendancy #chaos rising #greater good #thrawn alliances #thrawn treason #thrawn books #wow this took a while #but I like the way this is looking

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blorbosondeck · 3 years

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fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it #i had to go onto desktop for this #ill keep adding on to it #my fic recs #fic rec #spn fic rec #deancas fic recs #charlie.txt

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

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