#every micro expression takes over so completely

[formulaonedirection]

1 boy, many expressions x

#daniel ricciardo #he's sooooooooooo SO SOS SO SOOO cute #i like him SO much #i love how he makes big big big expressions #just a boy that's never learn to control his face #every micro expression takes over so completely #luv him #nadia's things

[rowenablade]

Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.

I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”

Guys.

I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.

And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.

The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”

OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.

Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.

Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.

But good things will happen too.

Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.

Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #izzy hands

[jinnify]

ribs — jake sim

pairing: jake x y/n genre: fluff, comfort warnings: none word count: five hundred eighty-one now playing: get up by newjeans extended note at the bottom.

you lightly pressed your hands to his chest, feelings the thumping of his heart rate speed up when you looked him in the eyes. golden embers flickered about in his brown irises as the sunset glimmered on the horizon, its warm hue reflecting in his eyes. a warm smile spread across his lips as he looked down at your face, watching for any tiny micro-expressions he could catch. you bit down a smile the best you could, knowing that jake was doing exactly what you were. you slowly blinked your eyes, as if you were a cat trying to tell its owner that you loved them, to signal to him to close his eyes without having to open your mouth. 

you continued to carefully watch him stubbornly shake his head no; his wavy hair flopping around his head like puppy ears. at this point, your cheeks had begun to hurt from how hard you had been smiling at jake over how cute he was. your hands slid around his torso, locking him in your embrace. you blinked slowly again; jake followed along this time.

you brought your hands up to his cheeks as you awkwardly slid your nose into his, trying to fit your face against his. you wanted to be as close as humanly possible. the position should've felt uncomfortable, with you holding yourself up above him, but you couldn't have felt more comfortable on a plush bed than with him at this moment. you loved him. you loved him so much, it hurt. it hurt you physically to not be a part of him. you wanted to be inside him, in the little spaces between his ribs, where he could carry you absolutely everywhere. where you could be with him forever until you both died of old age. 

you wanted to breathe him. you wanted his scent lingering on your olfactory receptors until the end of your existence. your fingers carefully slipped themselves into his hair, feeling its silky texture on your palm. you lightly pulled, eliciting a soft groan from him. you felt his brow furrow against your face before he moved you both to plant a kiss on your lips. dozens of fireworks went off in your chest, making you feel as if you were vibrating all over.

he ignited something so wonderfully primal in you. you had no idea how to react other than by having embraced him in the tightest hug you had ever given a person in your life, accompanied by a multitude of sweet kisses to his lips that left traces of your soft pink lipstick all over his mouth. 

you picked up jake’s hands from off your hips, placing even more kisses on his knuckles eliciting a beautiful sound from his chest, his laugh. you could, both, listen to his laugh for an eternity and fall into a blissful sleep listening to jake laugh. his adorably high-pitched laugh that sounded like an angel’s choir to your ears. you completely adored watching jake’s face scrunch up in amusement. happiness looked best adorning his features.

his skin shined beautifully in the golden hour, the sun rays bouncing off his honey skin, glowing around him like a halo. you could stare at jake, and drink in each of his features until your vision grew blurry.

“have i ever told you i love you?” you smiled, not taking your eyes off of jake’s eyes.

“only every other hour,” jake teased, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

EXTENDED NOTE. bonjourrrr ~ i wrote this at four in the morning while i was sleep deprived and nearly delirious bc jake is the loml😋 i didn't even try to proofread this bc i do nawt have the mental capacity to do that so please don't judge my writing too hard .. anyway this was just a lil something for my engenes meanwhile i work on m:ot !🫶🏼

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen comfort #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake fluff #jake comfort #jake x reader #jake scenarios #jake imagines #📁 enhypen: jake

[call-me-maggie13]

Beatrice doubts she’s ever been so nervous. Her head is spinning and she fidgets with the bundle in her hands, brown paper crinkling as she tugs softly on the tiny yellow bow wrapped around it.

She hesitates on the front step, considers tossing the bouquet into the bin closest to her and running the opposite direction. This is possibly the worst decision of her entire life. Completely unprompted. She should’ve consulted Shannon.

"Oh." Ava pauses in the doorway, one foot on the stone steps mere inches away from Beatrice. "Were you…"

Beatrice feels her face burn when Ava’s eyes settle on the red tulips in her arms. Eleven red and a single yellow tulip.

Red tulips. A declaration of love.

"Mama, move it!" Diana pushes through Ava’s legs, stumbling into the daylight like a newborn deer, squinting against the sun until her eyes adjust and she recognizes Beatrice, grinning and leaping into her. "Papa!"

Beatrice can’t look away from Ava, she’s analyzing every micro expression that passes over her face. Ava knows what it means. Perhaps Valentine’s Day isn’t the time for this. Beatrice should’ve waited.

"Papa!" Diana yanks on Beatrice’s coattail, pointing to the brown paper bundle in her arms. "What’s it?"

Beatrice forces herself to thaw, heart pounding against her ribs as she swallows it from the back of her throat.

"It’s a gift. For you and… and your mama." Finally, Ava lifts her eyes, cheeks pink and lips parted. Beatrice fumbles over the flowers, trying to find the yellow tulip to tug free for Diana. But she doesn’t look away from Ava.

Beatrice had really hoped to catch them while Diana was still napping so she would have time to process before attending to the little girl. In fact, she probably had arrived while Diana was napping but she’d spent so long doubting herself that Diana had awoken.

Diana takes her flower from Beatrice, inspects it quietly before extending it for Ava to admire.

Beatrice hadn’t meant to declare her love for Ava in the snowy, winter air. She hadn’t meant for it to be a grand gesture. It was meant for Ava alone. For her and Ava.

She’d had a speech prepared for Ava’s tiny entryway, her stained linoleum tiles, her crayon colored walls.

I’m yours. She had wanted to say. For as long as you’ll have me.

Beatrice offers the remaining bouquet to Ava, extending them for Ava to either accept or deny. Waiting for Ava to either accept her or turn her away.

The next second moves impossibly slow. Ava steps toward the tulips, hand reaching to brush their petals before moving away. Beatrice’s heart falls, sinking deep into her stomach. Ava has been considering the best way to reject her. Beatrice has read too deep into their interactions. She’s misinterpreted and ruined everything and -

Oh.

Ava’s lips are soft and warm against hers, tender and tentative. Beatrice’s mind has barely processed what was happening before Ava is pulling away, apologies clouding the minuscule space between them until Beatrice surges forward and they crash together again.

They haven’t kissed since they returned from Christmas. Beatrice isn’t certain why, not a single moment has passed that she hasn’t thought about kissing Ava. The thought had overtaken her, pulsed deep in her veins until she’d had to pull away, little by little, creating a chasm between them. A chasm flowing with anxiety and worry.

She’s not certain what she’d ever fret over before because this might the only thing Beatrice had ever been certain of in her life.

They’re only pulled apart by a high whine from Diana, a cry of boredom and annoyance. Even then, they linger in each other, noses brushing and breath mixing.

Beatrice still hasn’t found the words she’d rehearsed previously, only four she hadn’t considered tumble past her lips into the shared air betwixt them.

"Will you be mine?" The uncertainty lingers only a moment before Ava pulls away to giggle, nodding rapidly and blushing deeply. She flings her arms around Beatrice’s neck and buries her nose there, effectively knocking the flowers from Beatrice’s hand. Beatrice doesn’t much mind.

"I thought I already was."

Find more here!

#warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice #avatrice #warrior nun s2 #bea and ava #warrior nun season 2 #wn s2 #save warrior nun #warrior nun netflix #babysitting au #babysitter au #fic: like the princess

[hotchs-big-hands]

might be tmi but i desperately want to eat Aaron’s ass 😳 it’s so cute and he deserves it so much and ughhhh 😮‍💨

AAAA HELLO ANON YOU ARE ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH AS ME CUZ BIG SAME I THINK ABT THAT SO MUCH

Ya girl has to write a blurb abt this too so ummmmm NSFW! minors DNI

gn!reader

We can easily say Aaron has most likely had a very vanilla sex life. I mean he was with Haley since high school and then dated Beth for a while, and in my opinion I doubt they really got too frisky with it.

So you and Aaron are together now and you’ve definitely been exploring kinks with him, stuff he’s never done before and he’s got a grasp of what he likes. You’re enthusiastic when you suck him off, taking him down to the base but also nuzzling and kissing his balls whilst you jerk him off. But on one particular occasion, as you’re messily sucking and kissing the underside of his balls, your tongue slips out to lick down and it just barely brushes against his perineum and he gasps out, hips thrusting upwards as his cock twitches. Neither of you expected such a reaction, and he takes a moment to recover and apologise- although he definitely doesn’t need to.

You can’t stop thinking about it but you haven’t brought it up to him. Your mind wanders though, you’d fantasised about rimming him but you didn’t want to bring it up and make him uncomfortable if he wasn’t into it as well. But that reaction… you had yet to admit to him you’d gotten yourself off thinking about it since it happened.

On the flip side, Aaron has been thinking about it nonstop ever since. Ever since he began dating you and your sex life turned adventurous, he had done a lot of research. And in turn, discovered things he had yet to bring up to you. Before you he had never even considered the prospect of anything being in or around his ass, but now he’d seen and read about certain things- watched certain things- and he suddenly had a desire to try some things out.

You’re making out, he’d just gotten out of the shower and returned to your shared bedroom where you all but attacked him with your mouth on his, hands grabbing at him until he has you straddling his lap. You can feel his clothed cock hardening against your inner thighs and when you part for oxygen, you lazily trace your fingers over his chest as your mouth opens and closes a few times, deep in thought about how you were going to bring up what you wanted to talk to him about. He notices and raises a brow at you and squeezes your hips.

“Everything alright, honey?” He asks quietly and you hum with a smile. You tell him you want to talk to him about something and he chuckles.

“As do I actually. Please, go ahead.”

And so you do, watching the micro-expressions form and change with every word you utter about what happened the other night, admitting you'd not been able to stop thinking about it since. He shakily laughs and for a moment you aren't sure if that's a good sign or not. But he tilts his head as he scratches his temple and you realise he's blushing.

"I... would be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about it ever since either." He admits and smirks a little. "I... I did some research on it. I wouldn't- uh, I wouldn't be opposed to trying it with you."

He grunts when you shudder with excitement, inadvertently grinding on his crotch and his hands return to squeezing your hips again.

And it's a while later when you're both stripped completely nude and your lips are pressing kisses all over his body, trailing down his chest and his soft, hairy stomach in the direction of his leaking cock. But you merely lift your mouth away and smirk at him, pressing a single kiss to the tip of his cock before you move down to his balls and nuzzle into them.

He jolts and makes a quiet noise of surprise when you pull at him and grab a pillow to prop under his hips, telling him to hold his legs back by hooking his hands around the back of his knees. He bites his lip and complies, creases forming across his stomach from the curled up position he's in and his leaking cock smears precum through his thick happy trail. And now you have access to it, his puckering little butthole. It makes you salivate, but you check in with Aaron to make sure he's still on board.

With a nod and quiet affirmation from him, you lay down on your stomach and your hands come to grip the backs of his hairy thighs firmly. You lean your head forward and he swallows thickly and as you press a kiss to his inner thigh, he gasps and you feel the muscles move under your hands. You press another kiss to the other thigh and smile when he gasps again. You begin kissing inwardly, closer and closer to where he anticipated your mouth and finally your mouth reaches his pucker. His eyes widen and his head falls back against the pillows and you press another kiss to it.

“Fuck… oh fuck…”

With a grin, you slip your tongue out and swipe at his hole and his body jolts with another gasp. You lick it again. Then again. You begin circling the hole with the tip of your tongue ever so slowly, then swipe it up to his perineum and press a kiss there as well. And when he feels your tongue slip inside the slightly more relaxed muscle, he moans oh so prettily. He feels your grip on his thighs tighten further, almost bruising, and you wiggle your tongue inside him. He can barely form words, a cacophony of noise pouring past his lips whilst you makeout with his rim.

Then, one of your hands moves to grip his shaft and the other massages his balls.

He knows he’s a goner, he’s not going to last long- embarrassingly so- but the increase of broken moans and whines as you work his body eagerly. You want him to cum, he can feel your excitement as he realises you’ve been rolling your hips into the mattress. He grips onto the back of his knees desperately, holding for dear life as his lower body begins to move. He’s fucking your hand, fucking your tongue. And you’re lapping it up with pure delight.

“Baby, I- I’m not gonna last-” he chokes out and you work faster, sucking on his pucker and swirling your thumb around the tip of his twitching, leaky cock. It’s all it takes to push him over the edge. He tenses, his hole tightening around your tongue and he moans your name brokenly whilst the pleasure ripples through his whole being. You jerk him through his orgasm, and he idly feels the spurts of cum hitting his stomach and chest. But he feels so far from it, floating in pleasure as his eyes scrunch closed.

He only comes back to earth when he feels you gently moving his hands from the back of his knees, gently straightening his legs out on the bed and stroking his thighs. He smiles at you softly through hazy eyes and you smirk. You want to clean up the mess on his body, with his permission of course. He groans softly and his spent cock twitches. He certainly won’t say no to that.

#I FINALLY finished it #🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭 #aaron hotchner x reader #💌 ah asks #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #nsfw. #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

[tasteleeknow]

corruption!kink with minho

kisses for you anon. smut below cut. 18+ only.

Watches you from afar at first. Uses the first few months you know each other just to observe how you interact with others. He's so subtle about it, you never notice his eyes on you. But they're there. Especially when you laugh. He's so attuned to the sound of it that his attention is instantly drawn to you, even across a crowded room. He doesn't ever want to miss it: the way you light up, the way you look away from whoever has made you laugh, all shy and completely unaware of the effect it has on him. He always reacts the same way. Fondness, awe, then jealously. He wants to be the one making you laugh, making you blush.

The first time it happens he's taken off guard by his own reaction. You giggle at one of his offhanded comments, pulling your gaze downwards. He imagines your cheeks warming. How soft they'd be if he reached over and brushed his knuckles across your skin. He's prepared for the fondness, the self satisfaction at finally being the one to make you laugh, sure—that makes sense, but the way his cock hardens in his pants? He's pushed off kilter, standing quickly and rushing from the room before he's even processed it. He finds himself jerking himself off in the bathroom stall, palm pressed to the wall as he suppresses his groans. He imagines how you'd blush if you knew how hard you made him, how your pretty lips would part in shock at the knowledge he was in here imagining them wrapped around his cock.

"Would you like one?" you ask, holding out one of the icy poles you'd been offering everyone. It was the hottest day he could remember. The humidity sticking his t-shirt to his skin in a way that made him wish he could rip it off. He would if you weren't here. "Sure," he says, offering you a small smile as he takes the fruit flavoured icy pole from you—his fingers brushing against yours in the process. He keeps his eyes fixed on you as you drop your eyes to the floor at the contact. He wants to pin you to the floor, pull your clothes from your sticky skin and trace the fruity ice over your body so he can lick the sticky residue directly from you. Instead he watches as you wrap your lips around your own popsicle, uncaring if anyone else in the room notices. He ends up grabbing a cushion from the couch and placing it over his lap so he can enjoy the show you offer without worrying about his own physical reaction. He almost can't believe you aren't aware of his eyes on you, not when your pink tongue flicks out to circle the tip of the ice like you're tasting the precum leaking from the tip of his cock.

The day he finally snaps is like any other. Your big doe eyes flick across his face as he speaks, completely attentive to every word that leaves his lips. He has your complete attention. He can't resist. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to fuck you?" he says, no warning, no build up. It's worth it when your pretty eyes widen and drop to his lips. "What?" you breathe, reaching up to press your palm to your own cheek. He lifts his hand to brush his knuckles over your other cheek, like he'd imagined doing all those months ago. "I want you under me," he says. "I want you to look up at me with those big innocent eyes." He makes note of every micro expression, wanting to commit this moment to his memory. He knows you so well at this point. Spent so long watching the way you interact with others that he can practically read your thoughts before you speak. When you drop your eyes to your lap and whisper that you'd like that, he's prepared for it. He lunges for you, practically rabid as he pins you to the floor beneath him. A tiny gasp escapes your mouth as he attaches his lips to yours, pressing as much of his desperation into his kisses as he can. When he eventually sinks into you it's accompanied by a drawn out whine, an auditory representation of satisfaction at finally feeling your tight, warm cunt wrapped around him. He keeps your face cradled in his palms, desperate to keep track of your facial expressions while he fucks you. You're mostly non-verbal, just as he expected, tiny sweet noises accompanying the filthy wet sounds of him taking you. When your lips part and his name slips past your lips in a strangled moan he can't resist messily pressing his lips to yours and panting into your mouth as he fills you, like he wants to breathe you into his lungs.

When you agree to be his, he's desperate to show you off—keeping one arm around you or on you in public at all times. If he's ever forced you let you go, his heart thumps in his chest at the way you take some part of him in your grasp—whether it's one of his fingers or the fabric of his shirt. You cling to him in a way that makes him feel like maybe you're almost as obsessed with him as he knows he is with you. It feels mutually perilous, like you could destroy each other with one word. Sometimes, when he has you pinned under his body, he confesses it to you: how you own him, how it scares him: the power you hold over him. Of course, you sweetly reassure him that you'd never hurt him, how lovely he is, like the fucking angel you are. It makes his chest ache and he begs you to understand that you're doing it right now, twisting the hold you have on him even tighter.

#lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know fanfic #minho smut #kpop smut #stray kids smut #kpop imagines #skz smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #x reader #answered #minho drabbles

[barrel-crow-n]

Obviously, we know that Inej knows Kaz best but really, even she doesn't know him - or at least, doesn't understand many parts to him.

"He just lets go" about a boy who has never let anything go. Who, since he was nine years old, has been unhealthily obsessed with Pekka and taking him down. Who was still obsessed with this revenge eight years later. Who hears his dead brother's voice in his head - cruelly egging him on on this maddened quest for vengeance. Who remembered every single last detail of the Hertzoon con; who killed eveyone involved.

People criticise this line, and rightfully because it's plain wrong, but it goes to show how isolated Kaz is and that even with the person he trusts most, he still holds many cards close to his chest. He still hasn't shed his armour completely - not even with Inej.

Inej also doesn't understand Kaz's language. She knows the signals he has established with her for moves and attacks but, funnily enough, it's only ever Matthias that truly reads Kaz (understanding his micro expressions and how he cares about Inej). She understands that she is trusted because he takes off his gloves - but even then doesn't seem to understand the extent; Kaz strips in front of her, as a show of trust - that he's willing to expose himself to her, but she doesn't understand that this is what he is trying to convey. I highly doubt this is a way of wooing Inej. At least, that that was the main reason. He was being vulnerable with her, showing his underbelly.

Kaz cannot say he cares, but he also can't seem to show it either - not in a conventional way, anyway. He carries Inej to the Ferolind despite it causing him pain, he yanks out the eye of the man who stabbed her. He says "I protect my investments." And that sounds completely dickish, but Kaz doesn't show appreciation. Ever. Inej doesn't understand that "I protect my investments" means "I want to look after you because you mean a lot to me" because that's what it means!!! In Kaz's language. "Protect" -> Look after, take care of, defend. "Investments" -> Very important to him, more valuable over time (liking her more and more as times goes on). "I protect my investments" isn't the stupid, asshole line Nina and a lot of people read it as. It's Kaz's kinda mean, not betraying how much it means to him, round about way of showing he cares. He won't say it outright because living in the Barrel has taught him that that is dangerous.

This is shown again when he says "I would come for you. And if I couldn't walk I'd crawl to you. And no matter how broken we were, we'd fight our way out, knives drawn, pistols blazing, because that's what we do, we never stop fighting." He can't say a simple "I care about you." but he can say all that. Why? Because he ties his care to violence. Protection. Causing harm to defend Inej. (Strooooong dog motifs for Kaz btw - the people of the Barrel were spot on with the rabid dog nickname)

And it links to how all the characters are always saying "ohh he's so mysterious, I don't know anything about him, where he came from, or what his motives are" when Kaz is literally openly saying everything.

He doesn't not speak of his trauma or his feelings! He talks about them all the time! He just isnt straightforward.

"Barrel boys don't have parents, they're born in the harbours and crawl out of the canals."

"My mother is Ketterdam, she birthed me in the harbour."

He's literally talking about being "dead" (thrown on the Reaper's Barge), how that affected him (traumatised him so bad he feels like he is no longer the same boy, that he was reborn as something else - a monster), about having to crawl out of the harbour, wet and weak from fever. He openly admits he's an orphan. He talks about it! Just in a cryptic way. A way no one understands.

It's like he's crying out, with people not far, but no one hears him. Like he's still on the Barge, making a futile attempt to cry out "I'm still alive." The Barge still has that hold on him. It's a manifestation of the trauma. It's the same way the flashbacks taking him back to that miserable night. A prison that he can't seem to ever be free from.

When he tells Inej "Tell Jesper he's missed around the Slat." he's doing it again, just more blatantly and more obvious, so that she picks up on it this time. He's showing her his language! Telling her to read into what he is saying! He's saying that he misses Jesper in his detached, cryptic way.

And this is so important with everything Kaz says. Reading between the lines - that's how you start to understand him. We get a cheat sheet by seeing his internal thoughts, but his dramatic talk is the olive branch for outsiders.

When Inej is asking him to open up, she isn't asking that he should share his problems and vulnerabilities like she believes she is saying. She's asking him to be more direct. And that's the difficult part for Kaz.

#kaz brekker. ever the performer #my isolated wet cat of a boy #who doesn't know how to show affection #and is stuck behind the bars that he himself created #he makes me crazy #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows duology #my analysis

[blooming-violets]

How does their conversation go 👁️__👁️. Would she be completely closed off? Would she be understanding but tell him off for how he treated her?

It might be hard because we (aka me) don't really know too much about this girl since it was all from Peter's POV so her character and her motives aren't as fully fleshed out as I would like but I will give it my best go!

He walked into the coffee shop early. He hadn't slept the night before. He'd spent his night getting stoned then tossing and turning until he finally gave up and got ready. For the first time in a few days, he actually showered, though, he had no clean clothes to change into afterwards which felt like it defeated the purpose.

He ordered them each their own coffee. Some how, through the fog in his mind, he still remembered her favorite drink.

Peter took a seat outside under the shaded umbrella of a table set in the back. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the cool metal. What was he supposed to say when he saw her? Did he jump straight into his rehearsed speech or let things unravel slowly? Did he offer to hug her as a greeting when she arrived?

No, no. That was too much.

Did he stand up? That seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. Did he try to pull out her chair for her for was that a step too far?

Shit. She was here.

His heart rate spiked and his breath caught in his throat.

Peter jumped to his feet. It just felt like the natural thing to do. He felt like he needed to stand in her presence.

"Hi!" Too enthusiastic. Tone it down. "...Hi. Hey."

She gave him a stiff smile, eying the second drink at the table, "For me?"

He nodded, "Of course."

Peter slid the drink across the table, afraid to pick it up and hand it to her in case their fingers touched. He didn't want to cross any boundaries with her. He half expected for it to be thrown back in his face but, instead, she took it and sat down opposite him. He quickly scrambled into his chair after her.

Awkward silence settled around them.

He watched her sip her drink and desperately wished he had a cigarette to busy himself with. He didn't actually want the coffee sitting in front him. It was just something for him to fidget with.

"Your-"

"I'm-"

They both tried to break the silence at the same time.

Peter gave a half hearted laugh and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "You go first."

"You're hair looks like shit," she spoke.

He let her comment sink in before a smile grew across his lips.

She wasn't wrong.

At least it was washed.

"Yeah, well, I said some really shitty things to my favorite hair dresser and treated her like shit so she rightfully left me to rot in my own filth."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You never thought to find another hair dresser to deal with your hair problem?"

Peter shook his head, his voice softened, "There would never be anyone as good as her."

Now it was her turn to crack a smile.

She leaned back in her chair and he felt a sense of ease wash over him.

"You're an asshole, you know," she quipped.

Peter gave a sad grin and nodded, "I know. Trust me. I know."

She studied him carefully, watching his every micro expression, and finally licked her lips, coming up with a silent conclusion to her thoughts, "Come on." She stood up and started to walk away, turning over her shoulder to shout. "Hurry up! Follow me, dickhead."

He quickly did as he was told and hurried after her, abandoning his coffee on the table, "Where are we going? Are you bringing me somewhere to kill me? Because I'd let you if that's what you want."

He fell in step beside her, keeping her in his peripheral. She looked determined but calm.

"I'm going to cut that horrid mop on top of your head. I'll decide if I want to Sweeny Todd you when I'm through. You'll have to wait and see."

Peter looked down at his feet with a smile.

He was forgiven. Sort of. Almost. True forgiveness takes time but this was a start. She understood him better than anyone. She could read him with just a look. He had no doubt that she got everything she needed from him the moment she sat down and looked him over. She knew he was sorry. She knew he felt bad. She knew he regretted everything. She knew he was broken and hurting and grieving and lost.

She didn't need words to know the real him.

He wore his sorrow on his sleeve.

I wasn't really sure where I was going to take this when I started so I just let the vibes take over. I think this is more realistic between friends than some big speeches or giant confessions of apologies tbh. When I think back to fights I've had with my friends in past, we always "make up" by just being like "eh forget it i love you anyway even if youre a dick wanna come over and eat pizza with me??" and let things go. Esp with this particular story, it's not like he did anything too crazy besides take her for granted and publicly yell at her. I've screamed at a friend in middle of my high school parking lot before and we were besties again like the next week. I think that's just how real friendships go.

"You're an asshole." "I know." "Great, let's go hang out."

Sometimes it can just be that simple! Insult each other, laugh about it, and then move on. If you're close enough with someone, you should be able to read them without words and know exactly what they're thinking just from a look. If someone is sorry, they show it through body language and how they act. Sometimes words are just extra fluff.

#asks #the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm peter #tasm fic #tasm peter parker #peter parker #tasm x reader #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader

[ninacarstairss]

i can’t get over how perfect nick and taylor were. taylor understood alex so much. his little insecurities and his neurosis, his chaotic, too fast brain and his stubborn heart. he understood his past and his present, how hard he tries and how hard he’s always tried, how hard he kicks underwater and how no one is allowed to see it. he understood how big and encompassing his love for henry was, that it took him completely by surprise but it also didn’t, he had been falling for years. and when he realized it, he couldn’t hold it in for a moment longer. and he managed to show it all so well with every touch, every moment, every expression.

and nick. oh god, nick. henry is such a difficult character to understand and to play. he is all emotions he can’t speak aloud and desires that have to remain hidden. but when he is behind a locked door it all comes out, henry comes pouring out of that prince of wales persona and it’s so beautiful. nick managed to capture all of this and give it back to us with a look. the micro expressions that pass through his face when they’re in the lake, up until that final shot of his face before he drops into the water, his eyes full of a pain that cannot even be put into words. his cocoon phases, his camera smile and the real, wrinkled, imperfect smile. his initial fear and then his sureness whenever he is told he can take what he wanted all along. that bottom crust of the pie, that pain that’s always there, in his heart. you could see a whole world inside his eyes. and i’m so grateful they gave us a prt of the film in henry’s pov because seeing henry find out about the emails leak was something i really didn’t know i needed until it hit me. and nick delivered it so well, the panic that surges up as soon as bea tells him, the fear and anger in his voice when he wants to call alex but they have taken his phone, the relief in his whole body when alex finally does reach him.

they gave us everything and more. they didn’t just have chemistry, they invented the whole fucking table and they understood the characters so well it physically hurt to see them on screen

#now give them those oscars #they deserve them #rwrb #rwrb movie spoilers #rwrb movie #rwrb spoilers #red white and royal blue movie #red white and royal blue spoilers #red white and royal blue #taylor zakhar perez #nick galitzine #nicholas galitzine #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

[doodle-pops]

Protective Galdor Would Include...

Request: Protective!Lords of Gondolin headcanons? :) - Anon

A/N: Note that I chose to break the headcanons up and write each of them separately since I wanted to write a lot, so this is the first of them. The others will be posted individually.

❁ Despite his calm demeanour and cheery personality, Galdor would not hesitate to become physical if the situation was necessary. First and foremost, you are going to be placed far away from the event.

❁ Either behind him or taken out of the room by another Lord or his guards. It’s a strange sight to see the friendly puppy and cheery lord, being all serious and dark.

❁ When it comes to your safety, Galdor doesn’t play. Either he goes with you to an event, or he sends his guards to accompany you, which gives him all the relief in the world. It doesn’t even matter if you are standing on the opposite end of the room, Galdor’s eyes are locked on your every movement, down to your micro facial expressions.

❁ Are genuinely smiling or false? Is someone bothering you? Standing too close and invading your personal space? Just look in his direction or better yet, Galdor already noticed and is currently making his way over.

❁ It’s easy for many people to underestimate the strength and terror that Galdor is capable of being. This is an elf who crossed the Helcaraxё and fought in the first war of Beleriand, he’s more than capable of keeping you safe.

❁ It does take a lot to make him go into a protective mood since Gondolin is a safe place of refuge, thus, he always has an open mind to how the situation can play out. However, once he realises that the person isn’t heeding his warnings to relax, that’s when things escalate and he views the situation as threatening.

❁ There’s this cold and distinctive look in his eyes when he’s staring at the perpetrator, which makes everyone around him shiver. NO one expect for him to be that scary.

❁ The good thing is that he’s not someone to lash out at or throw a fist unless that person places their hands on you or attempts to fight him, which is completely stupid of them because he’s a trained elf Lord who fights with a club as his weapon.

❁ If ever you’re out with him in public, he’ll glower at the person until they could feel the heat radiating from his stare and become uncomfortable. He doesn’t take his eyes off the person until he’s positive they have left the premises. For extra caution, either he leaves to check or requests that a guard give confirmation.

❁ It doesn't even have to be a person scaring you and simply a spider or some bug and Galdor would still swoop in the be your knight in shining armour. He does question you about why you’re terrified of a little spider that's smaller than your pinkie.

❁ When Galdor is positive that you are safe, he’ll wrap his arms around you and pull you in for a bone-crushing hug while peppering your face with thousands of kisses. He does his best to hide his worry, you could feel it emanating through his reassurance.

Masterlist

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @spidergirla5 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @starborne0661 @floraroselaughter @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#galdor aldaron #galdor headcanon #galdor imagine #galdor x reader #Galdor #lords of gondolin #house of the trees #silmarillion headcanon #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion x reader #Gondolin #middle earth headcanons #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #x reader fluff #x reader insert #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

i'm cry laughing some people on twitter are now saying "izzy bashing" needs to be tagged in fics. how did these people ever survive watching this show where izzy is the CANON ANTAGONIST i'll never know

benefit of the doubt but i think most of them have gotten to this point gradually. when they first watched the show they were not attached to izzy the way they are now. i know for a lot of people it was blorbo at first sight with izzy but i've also seen izzy enjoyers say they didn't like him at first, and then fandom made them care about him.

like i'm pretty sure for a lot of ppl it started off with isolating themselves from ppl who made posts that they didnt like, like ppl who criticized ofmd for being based on two real people with direct connections to actual real-world slave trade (which is an incredibly valid thing to criticize abt ofmd).

another one that i think funneled a lot of fans towards being so delusionally attached to izzy was people pointing out or complaining about the disproportionate amount of fan content for izzy compared to prominent characters of color—which is a consistent issue in fandom no matter what the media, and is also a very easy one for people to be uncomfortable with whenever they see it get pointed out. people venting that "fans care too much abt this white man" often make fans who care abt that white man very defensive right off the bat, and then rather than engage with why they feel defensive or question if maybe their enjoyment of this character is fueled by implicit bias (which it might not be, to be clear! im not saying—and i have never said—that everyone who enjoyes izzy likes him for racist reasons), they stop listening to the conversation abt white favoritism and continue blorboposting as much as they want. it's incredibly easy for fans to brush off this convo as "just starting drama" and avoid the topic altogether because "fandom is for fun!" and they dont want to think abt difficult topics like racism and implicit bias, they just want to enjoy their blorbos in peace.

so they kept narrowing the takes they were seeing until they were in an echo chamber that kept moving more and more towards complete woobification of izzy hands. these people are now looking at the show entirely through izzy's pov, making posts abt how sad it is that none of the other characters are ever nice to him, how frustrating the show is from his perspective, how it feels to be deeply in love with someone who doesn't love you back. they've stared at gifs of con's micro-expressions and read angsty fanfiction and looked at endless izzy fanart and their entire ofmd fandom experience revolves around empathizing with this one character even tho the show itself continually makes him the butt of the joke.

at this point, telling these people to rewatch the show doesn't even matter. they've spent so much time over-analyzing every single one of izzy's scenes to the point where the emotional responses they get from these scenes are not the emotional responses anyone would have watching the show for the first time. they've warped the entire first season to fit their version of the show and are forgetting how often the show itself bashes izzy.

and the icing on the cake is the trolling. there's like, one or two people on here who go around sending anon hate and leaving nasty comments on instagram posts and harassing people on twitter for... like, i would say "for liking izzy" or even "for saying positive things about izzy" but like. i've gotten these messages, and the most sympathetic i've ever been to izzy was the post i made like "maybe he's mean bc he has chronic IBS. i'd actually understand him more if that were the case." so when i get these messages it's easier for me to just laugh them off bc it's so obviously just someone trying to make me upset, but people who do care about izzy (a lot of them being the same people who avoided engaging with the "why does fandom care so much abt white characters" convo) get these absolutely horrible messages about how they deserve to get hate crimed and they should kill themselves. and these fans who didn't want to even see vaguely negative posts abt izzy bc they just want to enjoy fandom in peace are now like "im targeted for just liking a character!"

so that's how we get to people saying that "izzy bashing" needs to be tagged. never mind that their definition of "bashing" almost certainly includes things that are not bashing but are just things that contradict the way they headcannnon him.

#ask #anon #mine #txt #og #izzy critical #izzy hands #ofmd fandom crit #if this post is in the izcourse tag no it isnt u just dont know how to use tumblr #obligatory Not All Izzy Fans disclaimer #also btw in case anyone tries to come at me with “it's stupid to tell people to pay attention to different characters”: #noticing the disappointing trend of fandom to fixate on white side characters ≠ telling people to stop making izzy content #im not telling individual izzy hands enjoyers to stop paying attention to izzy. there are a lot of reasons why ppl might like izzy #if i interact w someone whose ofmd contribution is primarily pro-izzy my thought is “oh they like antagonists” #not “oh they don't care about characters of color bc they're racist” ok im not gonna jump there without a reason #but on a fandom-wide scale this is a Trend that has happened over and over again in fandom after fandom after fandom #like We Live In A Society bro we can't just pretend white men are always the faves in fandoms just by coincidence #but also tbh if you think im saying that You Personally need to make content for characters of color? and you're getting MAD at me for it?? #then ur probs not someone i want making content for those characters lmao. u keep izzyposting to ur heart's content <3 have fun bestie

[amoristt]

headcanons on what the first time with rudy would be like??

YEAAAAA BABY I LOVE THIS MAN

a/n: sorry for any grammar/spelling errors its like 3 am

The first time with Rodolfo would be...

First and foremost, passionate. Though he isn't exactly hard to draw in, Rodolfo doesn't easily give himself away. He's focused on his life's work, as well as understanding that getting that close to someone could spell out heartbreak later down the line. There would be practically eons of lead up. Not in cocky, flirting teases- it would be much more subtle. He's incredibly observant and could easily pick apart every sentence you say to him, dissect between each line. Whatever you're trying to put down, Rodolfo is absolutely picking it up whether he shows it or not. So when it finally comes to the breaking point, it would be just as electric as it would be desperate.

Very giving. You would be his entire world for the moment. His focus would be completely on you both for your pleasure, and his own. By that point, it'd have been something he'd thought about more than enough times. He would want to play out the images in his head, hear all the sounds he'd been dying to listen to.

Quiet- at first. His eyes would never leave you, watching every move you make. It would be almost unsettling at first, the way he stares and drinks in every micro expression and movement, if you thought too much about it. Not that you'd get the chance, though. From start to finish he would have you squirming. He isn't sure where the boundaries are or what you're into, so he opts to just taking you in, taking note of every detail. Eventually, as he get's more confidence, he is 100% the type to talk you through your orgasms. He would coo at you for being so good for him all while overstimulating you.

Over all, very loving. To go this far with you is a huge deal for him, and he would make sure you knew that. He would take care of everything out of love and pride. The sight of you beneath him, satisfied and spent, all because of him would be a memory he'd visit frequently when you two were apart.

#rodolfo mw2 #rodolfo x reader #rudy x reader #headcanons #mw2

[patheticblorbloscholar]

Quaritch's existential crisis has so much symbolism throughout the film and Stephen does so well with his micro expressions that it shocks me it went over many peoples heads that he's not the same man.

The crushing of the skull being the very first clue we get into what he is thinking. Like Hamlet he is saying to be or not to be and choosing NOT TO BE. Right there.

Yet the memories and personality remain. The sins of the past forcing him to witness the life of a man he doesn't like nor want.

Then Spider comes in and completely changes the trajectory of his path. He hesitates at every pass. He sees the suffering of the Tulkun and is uncomfortable watching it.

Recom Quaritch is such a good example of how you take a villain and turn him on his head and make him suffer for the consequences and I can't overstate that enough.

As a Na'vi he feels more empathy than his human counterpart. His maker never felt any empathy for anyone and was only focused on this mission. This man is different. How many times do we have to explain this?

#avatar: the way of water #recom Quaritch #I cant wait to see him breakdown over everything #I want him whimpering and crying #I want him begging for forgiveness #and I know if James pushes him far enough we will see ir #I believe in James and Stephen

[upwards-descent]

👀 wip

"Have you.... Ever read about the, ah, effects of increased adrenaline, in the face of danger and such, and how that changes certain... Preferences?"

A lot of different micro-expressions crossed Rizal's face. Surprise. Curiosity. Amusement. Confusion. When he settled on something unreadable, a little thrum of panic buzzed in Gale's chest.

Then he noticed the tiefling's tail, wagging lazily. Ah. Good.

"Have I read about it?" The bard glanced around the Last Light Inn, watching some of the locals help clean the aftermath of Marcus' tantrum. He kept his voice to a low rumble, taking a step closer to afford Gale a shred of modesty. "Darling, I could write a series. Are you... Asking for something?"

Infernal blue eyes took their time scanning over the wizard, drinking in every inch of him. When that searing ice met pretty warm hickory, the bob of Gale's throat was rather obvious.

"Just, ah, testing the waters?" He chuckled. "I, uhm. Have to come to really... Admire you, Rizal."

"The feeling is mutual."

"... Is it?" Gale's voice also went soft, something delicate held in his gaze. "... I see. Well that's... Very encouraging."

"Don't poke the bear if you can't handle the claws," Rizal made like he was assessing the room, taking a slow circle in place, before he leaned in close enough for Gale to smell the humble drops of cologne he tended to daub on his neck. "Are you propositioning me, sweetheart?"

"Not. Not right now," Gale managed to choke out. His nerves seemed to have prepared him for rejection, his pulse almost visibly racing in stark contrast to his lovely neck, woefully devoid of tiefling fang marks. "I fear my... Condition hadn't conducive to such, ah... Stimulation. But once we find a better time..."

"I see," Rizal straightened up, promptly brushing the moment aside in a gesture of dedicated professionalism. He was calm, cool, but his eyes still blazed as they continued to rake over the wizard. "So, we'll put a pin in it, then? Play it safe?"

"Yes, that's. The smartest option."

"Good," Rizal smiled. He reached out, a claw delicately pinching Gale's single earring. He admired it for a moment, watching the smaller man squirm a little, before finally stepping back completely. "Keep your wits about you, dear. I need your mind still, and not yet your body."

Gale's eyes went wide and he floundered for a response, snapping his mouth shut as Rizal seemingly got distracted and walked away.

#bg3 gale #bg3 tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #rizal aganaad #my oc #writings #wip

[stillhere-erehllits]

It’s one thing to be intellectually aware, and completely different to hold the same knowledge as bodily awareness.

The other day we were in the car and I was picking up on every micro behavior he was expressing. Gripping the steering wheel, tailgating, glancing at me from the corner of his eye, tense shoulders, and breathing through his teeth. I was going over in my head if I should ask him what’s wrong. I had an inner dialogue about how he does the is all the time and I’m sick of it, and how it’s exhausting to always be so aware of his state of being. I know it’s not my job to ask, he’s an adult and should be able to communicate. Then I had a moment of clarity I hadn’t experienced before. I recognized the feeling in my body and my hyper vigilance. I was able to label the experience and realize that his behavior was triggering me. Instantly, I was able to take a breath, let go, and calm my nervous system. I felt in my body what my mind had known for so long but was never able to grasp in the moments I was experiencing it. It was an emotional revelation and I feel like this is going to be a monumental tool moving forward.

#trauma #triggered #emotional regulation #nervous system regulation #growth

[amplifyme]

I'm on the "keep the miracle pregnancy" side-- but C'MON CC. You had all of S7 to lead up to his finale, admitted the whole crew/actors knew it was leading up to Requiem's twist, had Amor Fati spaceship (and possibly En Ami chip), so much time and build up you could have done aaaaaand no. You literally threw up your hands, gave us a post-humous IVF timeline that can't fit in S7, gave no explanation for Scully's pregnancy and had everyone dancing around it. 1/2

The best moments of S8 were Doggett and Skinner friend bits and MSR (of course)-- and the MSR was only as good as it got because DD had his micro-expressions and most of Empedocles was add-libbed (even in the scripts it said something along the lines of "they'll know what to do here" or "they do something in this scene.") I HATE Essence/Existence. If I feel all soft and snuggly, I'll cue up Essence's monologue, some of Mulder/Doggett, the babyshower, and SKIP to the last 5 min of Existence. 2/2

The polite person in me wants to say "sorry for the rant" but the petty side of me says "direct all annoyance at CC, he started this." And that's another thing! CC has every right to torpedo his own series; and I'm pretty hands off and will just say "that's not canon", dust my hands off, and move on. But to then turn and point the finger at fans, who were invested (and continue to be in part) in his work and blame them? Wild. ANyWaY, thanks for letting me rant~.  ;DDD 3/2

Hey, I’m always up for a good rant myself! 🤣

I’ll support your support for a miracle pregnancy, even though just the thought of it makes me break out out in hives. I’m a believer in live and let live, and the idea that there is no right or wrong way to be a fan. Having said all that...

To put it bluntly, Chris Carter shit the bed when it came to pretty much anything post-Je Souhaite. There are certain moments in what came after that I enjoy, but I can only do that if I’m able to view them as AU, something completely separate from the series I came to know and love. And it’s not just that I object to the mangled storylines and characterizations, or the blatant retconning he had to do to untangle the mess he himself created. It’s that’s so much (IMHO) of what I loved about the series and these remarkable characters wasn’t there anymore. Everything was dumbed down and simplified and painfully pedestrian. I didn’t recognize anyone anymore. Frankly, I didn’t care to.

You’re correct that CC had every right to torpedo his own series. But here’s the thing: you’ll never convince me that he will ever consider the notion that he’s the one responsible for its steep decline. I think he still believes that everything he touches is golden and he makes no mistakes. Now most of us, if we’re self-aware enough, learn from our mistakes and alter our behavior going forward to integrate those lessons learned and at least try to do better the next time. Instead of doing that, CC gave us IWTB and the My Struggle episodes in the revival. Not just one or two, but four of them, each more badly written and nonsensical than the last. And he still thinks they’re masterpieces of film making and writing. But I guess if you’ve been fed a steady diet of ego-stroking and consume only positive press over a few decades, it becomes difficult to pull your head out of your ass and take a good look around.

As an aside, I took on the challenge, this new year, to finally watch S9, none of which I’ve seen - with the exception of The Truth. I made it as far as Mulder taking a shower in his black boxers and Scully’s, “He’s gone. He’s just gone,” explanation before I bowed out. I can’t do it. I just can’t. More power to everyone out there who enjoys what came after S7. I wish I could see what y’all do, but I can’t. Neither my eyes or my heart are up for the task. 

#ask and answer #xfiles #amp rants #love the great kahuna for giving us mulder and scully #but will never forgive him for what he did to them #they deserved so much better