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#he's like yeah this is science btw
dollopheadedmerlin · 5 months
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I think it's so funny when people draw Merlin characters with stuff like top surgery scars because it carries the implication that Gaius is a leading medieval gender confirmation surgeon
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cheriboms · 7 months
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doctober day 11: briefcase
because a scientist lawyer has gotta keep his invention blueprints legal documents SOMEWHERE >_>
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monsieurenjlolras · 2 years
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Building our collection
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munamania · 1 year
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i would just like to say. i had the realization today that i was literally melting ice for a film project. Watching ice melt. pouring water over ice. and watching it melt. and i was having fun bc she was with me <3
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ojamayellow · 2 months
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I was already crazy about Fu, but here he said he wanted my blood and that he'd love to study me...
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the-spookycat · 2 months
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ok but what do people actually have against furries? like ok??? you draw yourself as a fox that's sick actually? what's the issue there?
like it's called a fursona because it's a persona that has fur or at least is an animal, it's this thing called a 'pun' that plays on the idea of using a character as a stand-in for yourself in some media setting - like furries don't think they're literally animals (not the ones I know personally at least maybe some do idk)
but you can draw yourself with a TV or computer monitor for a face and that's normal - in fact actually pretty common on the internet I see it a lot you can draw yourself with magic powers if you want, that's ok you can fly, cool with that you can be a cryptid or a shadow demon creature that's fine but you CANNOT under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES be a cat that's just illegal for some reason
like, people who hate furries, please understand: it's made up just like all the other examples
it's a silly little representation of yourself - A PERSONA IF YOU WILL
and the fursuits? yeah people have made the TV head cosplays too what's your point
why is there a culture of hating on a group of people who would simply rather represent themselves as animals like frankly if I had to choose someone to worry about I'd be more concerned about the people who see themselves as shadow demons???? but nah people are chill with that
dog in a jacket tho? noooooooooo
(i've just edited this immediately and put a bunch of stuff in the tags if you care lol)
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doppeldinger · 1 year
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Do u guys think heimer knows how to cook
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pandoraslxna · 4 months
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Luna love PLEASEEEEE HEAR ME OUT‼️ Dilf!Jake getting mad at human!reader when he catches her on her room in the science lab using toys instead of him (that are not even close to his length btw), and fucking her dumb. Like fucking some senses to her, with degradation kink pretty please?
Pent up and stressed out
Jake Sully x female human reader
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Words: 3.7k
Summary: Jake knows just the way to help you relief some of that pent up frustration.
Warnings: explicit smut, use of toys, caught masturbating, age difference, size difference, p in v, oral, degradation, praise, dirty talk, use of daddy (once), brat tamer dilf!jake
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It was the melting-pot of earths greatest minds, a central locus for innovation and invention, a modern day renaissance. It was where scientists went to work on the next next best thing, before the next best thing had even arrived. It was where everyone who was anyone in the scientific community would go to start a new life and get their hands dirty on real science. And of course, the science at the RDA’s Laboratories was very real –and very dangerous. But what's life without risks? If life gives you lemons, use the decaying remains of those lemons to invent the best damn anti-lemon device possible! (And maybe colonize the poor Lemon farmers home too, while you’re at it.)
Well, at least, that was the marketing for Pandora. And to be honest, in the very beginning it was this ideal (and quirky) view of how the RDA worked that you had fallen in love with all those years ago when you worked there as an intern. That was, before you figured what these limb dicks were actually doing here.
Of course they don’t tell you about that war stuff back on earth. They don’t tell you about the natives, the blood that will stick on your hands, the flora and fauna they promised you to study to be burned to ashes because apparently mankind needs apartments and streets and fucking beer on this exomoon.
You were tired of how things worked. You were tired of the long hours, of snappy managers, of being shuffled from lab to lab for no apparent reason, of working on projects for six months at a time and then being told they were cancelled –and sometimes finding out later that some of them had been handed to a different scientific team. You were tired of how cavalier some of the higher-ups seemed about handling dangerous technology and killing innocents. And you were tired of the secrecy about this insanely morally wrong war.
That’s when you had decided to switch sides. Of course switching to the human / na‘vi revolution might’ve been the morally correct way, but what they don’t show you in the contract is, that this path doesn’t come with the luxury of working at high technology laboratories with dozens and dozens of other scientists to share this massive amount of work with. It doesn’t come with unlimited food, water, electricity and other much needed resources. Oh and remind me, who was complaining about the long hours at the RDA earlier? Yeah, that was pretty much nothing, compared to the fact that you hadn’t touched your bed in forty-nine hours.
Life on Pandora had definitely not been what you had expected when you first arrived here. The only difference now was, that you now did it with pleasure instead of guilt.
Working in the labs at high camp was probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you, but doing the right things never comes easy.
Sure, it took a while to get used to the power running out every few days and having to bath in a river, eating whatever the forest gives and oh, let’s not forget the eight feet tall, blue teenagers lingering around in your work space accompanied by a half naked tarzan with painted on stripes, making it extremely difficult to focus on your work.
Speaking of concentration…
"Kid, why the hell are you still here?"
"Huh, w-what?" You awoke with a start, and for a moment you didn't know where you even were. Your neck hurt as you lifted it up, rubbing the sleep away in your tired eyes only to be met with a pair of blue, muscular thighs standing right in front of your desk. Immediately, your gaze shoots all the way up.
“I said, why the hell are you still here?", Jake furrows his brows as he glares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's almost 3 am and this is the second night in a row that I catch you in here. Go. home."
"Jake we talked about this before", you roll your eyes at him, pushing away from the desk to walk over to where some of the scientists lockers stand. "I‘ll go, once I get this shit done." You make a gesture in the air to point at the petridish on your desk, with five ar'lek seeds inside. The healing potential of those seeds was something you’ve always took great interest in, especially during times where more of this medicine was needed than the Na‘vi could even harvest.
"No, you’re leaving right now", the clans Olo'eyktan and former marine said sternly. "No damn plant can be this important you’re loosing two days of sleep over it."
"Oh tell me about it…", you mumbled under your breath as you fiddled with the lock, flung the door open and reached for a small blue container. You unscrewed the lid and tipped the container ever so slightly. Out onto your outstretched hand popped two capsules, their smooth surface reflecting the fluorescent lights placed far above you. Down you gulped them, and up reached a hand to grasp a bottle of water. You took a swig.
Another day, another pill, another length of sanity in a place of madness.
The na‘vi behind you quirks a brow, "What was that?"
"Uh, this?", you shake the blue container and the pills inside rattle demonstrative. "Norm bought them from the raid last week. It’s a food substitutes. Helps me concentrate."
Caffeine in a pill, basically.
Jake let’s out a heavy sigh as he circles the desk and approaches you, the equipment and furniture around him looking comically small.
"You don’t needs pills, kid", he says, taking the container from you and placing in inside the locker a little harder than necessary to bring his point across. He’s towering over you without even trying, and you have to crane your neck all the way up to properly look at him. "What you need is sleep and a way to relief of all of that pent up stress. You’re here all the time, do you even eat? Have some time for yourself? When’s the last time you took a shower, huh?"
God, this man was a dad through and through.
You didn’t know if it was the difference in age or just his general authority, but whatever it was that made him talk to you like you were nothing but a fussy teenager, it was getting on your nerves. Even more than usually.
"Ha-ha very funny. Next you tell me to go visit a spa over the weekend. Oh, thanks boss that’s so kind of you for giving me a couple of days off", your voice had turned into a mocking tone, which makes both of his eyebrows raise in amusement. He cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to keep going, but your gaze only drops in embarrassment. "Leave me alone, Jake. I’ve got work to do…"
"See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about", he chuckles and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"What?" You almost bark at him.
"You’re pent up. Quit acting like a little brat, go home and take care of it. Or I will."
Take care of it. Jake’s words whispered over and over and over in your head, a rolling loop that you thought might actually drive you insane. It’s not like you didn’t try, you really did. But as tempting as your bed might seemed to you, as tired as you were when you dragged yourself back to hells gate, you just couldn’t rest, couldn’t will yourself to sleep.
You’ve always spent your days with your mind full to the brim with various theories, studies and seemingly endless responsibilities, so much so that you often found it difficult to empty your mind for sleep. Sometimes you would recite the na’vi names of plants to yourself in your head ("Panopyra, Pamtseowll, puríhsa..."), over and over, like counting sheep, trying to memorize their names. You would take a quick jog around the building, read a book or sometimes even meditate. But some other times you simply preferred another method of relaxation.
Take care of it. Or I will.
He could be so insufferable when he was bossing you around, you thought to yourself with a heavy sigh as you let your hands run down your curves, feeling the soft swell of your breasts, over your stomach and the hem of your pyjama shirt.
"Is that an order, sir?", you grumble to yourself, mentally rolling your eyes at him as your fingers skim past the waistband of your shorts.
But eywa bless him to whatever heaven existed, this man was truly gifted with a body that served as material for your wettest dreams and dirtiest fantasies more than once before.
There had to be some rule against woman finding men around their fathers age hot. Men whose authority made them ten times more attractive, but just as annoying when they were treating you like a kid. Men that were exotic and alien and blue and tall and— There had to be some law that– that could protect you from the man that Jake Sully was. There had to be something in the books about dealing with this, with him. Especially if the only way you knew how to deal with whatever feelings you harbored for the much older ex-marine, was with busying your hands between your spread thighs.
Instantly, there’s this sensation, hot and burning and you allow it to rise within your core— allow it, and welcome it. You exhale softly, and the slick, wet feeling under your fingertips gives you a gratifying sense of accomplishment, fueling you to circle over your clit, gentle at first, but slowly adding more pressure over time. Your other hand clasps over your mouth, barely able to stifle a moan as the other finger that had been teasing your entrance slowly slips inside.
Breathlessly, you feel your head dip back further, as you recognize the heat slowly building, radiating from your core. Gyrating your hips, the feeling of wetness and pleasure builds within yourself, enough to make your hips buck up against your own hands. Thrusting your fingers in and out, you huff out a frustrated breath when you realize it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off.
Withdrawing your hands, you reach for your nightstand and pull the upper drawer open. It reveals a set of various toys, different colors and sizes, and you don’t need to think twice before you grab the biggest one and settle yourself back into the comfort of your pillow. It’s a blue dildo. Of-fucking-course.
It takes a few tries, the tension slips for a moment or two, but soon, you find the right angle to allow the slippery toy to slip inside and caress the spot you‘ve been seeking. More pleasure begins to wash over you, not unlike waves washing ashore, as you build up the tension your body craves you to chase. Your fingertips run in circles over your clit as you push the toy inside and angle it up, dragging the silicon tip along your soft, spongy walls and you moan, loud and wanton.
Your toes curl tightly as you approach what might just be the state of bliss you‘ve been seeking. The verge of Nirvana, quite literally, at your fingertips. Inhaling sharply, you feel that pleasure intensify and spread throughout your entire body. Your toes curl tighter, though you’re only vaguely aware of it for a moment.
Squeezing your eyes shut, your head lolls from side to side, before you pry your eyes open and glance between your spread thighs. The toy glistens in your arousal when you pull it out and your legs quiver when you push it back inside. In your lustful haze, it takes a few more thrusts, and then your eyes finally land on the door in front of your bed; widen open, with a big blue silhouette leaning against the metal frame, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted to the side in his telltale stance.
Your movements stop altogether.
"J-Jake!?" You shriek, clenching your thighs shut.
"Hey, sweetheart", he grins lazily, then pushes off the doorframe to approach you.
"What are you–"
"Thought I’d check on you", he cuts you off and the sway of his tail behind his back reminds you of a cat that just caught a mouse. "See if you arrived home safe and sound, and took care of that little problem how I told you to."
The mattress then dips as he puts a knee on top of it and reaches for your ankle. You squeak when he pulls your towards him with barely any effort, then spreads your thighs with his entirely too big hands on either one of your legs.
"Looks like you needed it bad, huh?", he chuckles and a deep flush of embarrassment settles on your face when he twists the toy inside you and then gently pulls it out. "But you could’ve just asked, you know? Instead of using these pathetic little toys. No wonder you’re always this pent up when that’s what you’re using."
The toys is tossed aside before you can open your mouth to object, your chest heaving in frantic pants as he kneels onto your bed with a creak of your old mattress.
"Jake..?", you whisper, the sudden, uncertain tone in your voice making him lick his lips in anticipation as you pushed yourself up on your elbows.
"Shhh, let daddy take care of you, yeah? Gonna relief some of that stress so my little brat knows how to behave again. That sound good?", he asked, with a fucking smug shit-eating grin. If only your face wasn’t bright red in flustered embarrassment, Jake would’ve taken the provocative roll of your eyes more seriously as you let yourself fall back against the sheets.
"Not a brat…", you mumble, but your eyebrows are only knit together for a second before they shoot up in surprise when grabs the underside of your knees and folds your legs so your ankles almost touch your ears. "F-Fucking, sh– ah!" The moan breaks out of you in a wheezed curse the very moment Jake’s tongue goes flat between your wet folds and his lips close around your clit.
He starts rather roughly, sucking hard on that little bundle of nerves until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. His tongue dips down to lap at your arousal, groaning against you as he pushes past your entrance and fucks you on his tongue. Your moans turn into wails, legs helplessly twitching as he keeps them bend to devour you.
You couldn’t hold out for long, not against the way he knowingly toyed with you, suckling and flicking over your clit, the strange growl he made between filthy slurps vibrating against it. You heard your own voice, a soft river of sounds, murmuring words that weren’t words, curses and moans as you felt the release start to pool in your belly, hot and tingling and restless. Until you couldn’t fight it anymore, thighs trembling around his face and you came with a gasp of his name.
But Jake doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop until your shaking from overstimulation, until your slick is running down his chin and even then, a desperate sound of frustration escapes you when he finally lifts his head up from between your thighs. The waves of your first orgasm had barely subsided, just to the point where your limbs felt heavy, your body drained and wrung out, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, and it made him laugh, how needy you are.
"Noo", you complain, "don’t– don’t stop!"
"Ah, don’t worry sweetheart I’m only getting started", Jake promises with a dirty smile, shuffling his hips closer to yours before he pulls down his loincloth just enough to reveal his throbbing cock. There’s a certain glint in his eyes as he watches you swallow thickly at the sight. Fuck, he’s big.
"Been acting like such a desperate slut, rolling your eyes at me and talking back under your breath", he says lowly. Jake keeps you in this bend position, but takes hold of his cock at the very base before he drags his tip through your spit and arousal slicked folds. "Should’ve already put you in your place weeks ago", he goes on, "But I knew you just needed your needy little holes filled by a big cock, right?" He pauses for a second, and then you feel the mushroom-like tip prodding against your entrance. "Needed to be fucked like the slut you are. Don‘t worry, doll face. M‘gonna fuck you right to sleep, help you relax reaaal good." And then he pushes inside.
The stretch makes you choke on a scream that threatens to rise through your body and Jake groans at the suffocating heat around his length. "Shit baby, still so fuckin‘ tight, ain’t ya?"
Your hands reach out for his biceps, short nails digging into his skin, sinking crescents into the blue stripes on his arm, your whole body quivering, mind fuzzed with a long-forgotten drowsy sort of bliss.
"Feel me stretching you out? Those damn toys didn’t even loosen you up one bit." Jake grins. His lips are on yours then, his mouth claiming, and he swallows any sounds you might have made as you fit together like a hand in a too-small glove.
He moves, only a little, the springs groan and squeak as he rolls his hips, slow at first, then faster. Your lips are bruised by the time he breaks the kiss and his shoulders are scratched and he’s somehow even deeper, and then his thrusts turn harder.
He’s hot and heavy on top of you and it’s making you tingle and shiver all over.
Jake fucks you with precision, the tip of his cock hammers against your cervix, dragging along your g-spot on the way and it makes your eyes roll all the back inside your head.
"Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to feel", he chuckles, the sound cutting off into a low groan as he licks away the spit from your bottom lip. "Look at my little slut drooling fr‘me."
Your wet, velvety-like walls are heavenly, warm and constricting him and getting even tighter when he increases his pace. In no time, you were all but melting in his hold, moaning out nonsense that was like music to his ears. Every time Jake’s cock brushed against your g-spot, your moans turned louder and your toes curled into your soles.
"Jesus, baby. You feel so good around me, perfect little cock sleeve."
The sounds he knocked out of you with the sheer force of his thrusts soon turn needy and higher pitched, as he was driving you over the edge faster than you could even proceed it.
"T-There, fuck Jake, right- right there", you mewl, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth. The man above you groans, half a grin pulling at the corner of his lips before he aims his hips to hit that spongey spot inside you even harder.
"Where, here? That your special spot, hm?"
"Uh-huh, yes! Yes, fucking shi– oh my god!" Your walls pulsate around him, squeezing and clenching his shaft. God, you were so close it almost hurt.
"Hmh, can feel you clenching, baby. You like it that much?", Jake chuckled, and you could only muster the strength to nod weakly. "Gonna come fr‘me, yeah?"
His hips only increased their pace from there, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider and you felt so full, it was hard to imagine that there was any more room inside you, not even for his cum. And that thought alone was enough to tip you over the edge with a full body shiver.
His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more, more more, until—
"Coming! I‘m coming!"
"Look at you", Jake mutters and he sounds so wrecked, so reverent and pleased with himself. "Gorgeous, so pretty when you come on my cock, sweetheart. You needed this, didn’t you? Good girl, you’re doing so good.”
Jake certainly knows what he’s talking about because if only there was a mirror where you could see yourself– You looked completely obscene, folded like a little pretzel, skin flushed with exertion and sheened with sweat while your hair is matted on your forehead. There’s saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth from where you had been unashamedly panting, lips red and plump from kissing and sucking on his tongue.
“My perfect little slut.” Jake pants out, snapping his hips ruthlessly into you, helping you ride out your orgasm.
Jesus, you were a real sight. It makes his balls tighten up and his cock throb inside you.
He was drinking up every sweet little moan and gasp he elicited out of you like this, groaning, before he finally pumped you full of his hot cum, until it leaked out around his girth. "Oh, fuck", Jake murmured and he sounded so far away, thick and rough. Your pussy squelched as he continued to lazily thrust into you. He groans, shattered, hips fucking erratically until they still deep inside you and the tight walls of your cunt milk his cock until he’s completely spent.
It’s only now that you realize how god damn heavy this man was on top of you. Thankfully Jake rolled off before you had to start gasping too badly for air, leaving your front feeling impossibly cold.
"And? Feeling relaxed?" He chuckled, rolling over to pull the blanket over the both of you before he tugs you close against his chest.
"Shut up…", you make out roughly and it’s only then that you realize, you had screamed yourself hoarse. You want to roll your eyes at him, but they unwillingly flutter closed before you can even try to.
"Told ya‘ I’ll fuck you to sleep, kid."
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nerdpoe · 1 year
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hmmmm tiny prompt idea i lied it's kinda big
For whatever mystical reason, Batman, John Constantine, and three other Justice Leaguers go to Amity to assess the ghost issue.
While there they talk to the Fentons, and meet their starstruck son, who has a very similar name to Phantom, the obvious vigilante that refuses to ask for help, and his face is pretty much exactly the same.
Oh, Phantom is dead and this kid is alive? Well lots of Batman's kids have pulled that same shit. Weirder things have happened.
Cameras don't work right around the kid, recording equipment shorts out with static, and he keeps slipping up and using his powers. It...really isn't hard to find out Danny Fenton is THE Phantom.
So, since it's so obvious, they kinda assume everyone Knows but isn't saying it to make the kid feel like he's doing a good job at being secretive.
Then they learn about the Anti-Ecto acts, and they're like.
"Oh, that makes sense, obviously the town would ban together to pretend this kid isn't Phantom if literal torture is what awaits him. BTW, let's go ahead and take steps to get that shit removed how did this even get through?"
But then shit get's weirder?
The Fentons sit the supers down and rant and rave about how Phantom is a Kill On Sight threat, and force their son, their bright cheerful son who wants to be an astronaut and talked about space with Batman for literally forty minutes, to fucking listen in.
They're talking about how they've shot him, stabbed him, beat him with blunt instruments, how they measure the effectiveness of their weapons against ghosts using him as a template, and detail how they intend to dissect him and study him while he is sitting right there, looking like he wants to vomit.
And now it isn't so cute, because the Justice League members think that this whole town has banded together to punish this small child for existing. This same small child who has been limping and keeps giving different excuses for it, and when said kid notices their side glances musters up a shaky smile, clearly trying to Not Acknowledge the rant by his own goddamn parents.
Meanwhile Danny's parents are like, super proud that their very squeamish son is listening to their science presentation and putting on a brave front for the superheroes.
So like, who would snap first? Constantine, or Batman? Or one of the other Justice Leaguers? One of the Batkids listening in through the coms?
Idk it's a long explanation but like yeah, that's the prompt.
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sweatervest-obsessed · 5 months
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Okay.. hear me out the song 'Stick Season' by Noah Kahan... for a fic like her and spence break up and she can't move on from him...
Oh you mean my FAVORITE NOAH KAHAN SONG???
Absolutely girlboss.
It ended up being 3.5k, so please please enjoy!!
(it's a gn! fic btw)
You must have had yourself a change of heart like Halfway through the drive Because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign Kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right
Everyone in the BAU hated letting Spencer drive. It was a fact of the universe. It wasn’t because he was bad at it, in fact he was quite a good driver. But whenever he would drive, it was constant chatter, constant rambling, and sometimes, it would be in between NPR segments where Spencer would correct someone or pause to discuss interesting facts that he knew. 
So when Spencer offered to drive the team to the hotel across town, no one had the guts to say no. It was some random town in Vermont, in the middle of October, some weird string of murders throwing another small town into disarray. He was in the middle of describing the science behind why certain leaves change into certain colors when his voice died out.
They were at one of two stop lights in town and they were stopped at one of them. Spencer was looking diagonally across at some random coffee shop, and Derek could not, for the life of him, figure out why Spencer was looking over there. 
“Reid? Hello.” 
“It’s her.” 
“Who?” Derek followed his line of sight again and realized what Spencer was looking at, well, who he was looking at. 
You. 
“Oh my god. Isn’t that…” 
Spencer nodded his head. 
“Why is she…” 
Spencer just stared at you. “I don’t know.” 
You were now leaving the coffee shop, cup in hand and small brown bag in the other. Spencer could probably guess what was in both. 
“Green light Reid.” 
The two of them started to move again, but neither of them spoke on the way to the hotel. It was almost unbelievable that they hadn’t seen you in over two years and yet here you were, in some random town that had a serial killer. 
Now I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face And memories are somethin' even smoking weed does not replace And I am terrified of weather 'cause I see you when it rains Doc told me to travel, but there's COVID on the planes
“No no. Lucille. You don’t understand. He was like, nerdy hot. And I fucked up big time.” 
Lucille snorted and handed you the blunt in her hand. “My love, my life. I bet you, he was the problem.”
You scoffed and took a hit. “Yeah right.” 
Lucille raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “You’re not still in love with the guy are you?” 
“When you put it like that it makes me sound pathetic.” 
“Oh girl no, you are, aren't you.” 
You sighed and took another hit—a long inhale this time to compensate. 
“Sweetie, you are WAY too good for him.” 
You laughed. “Mr three PhDs, four Bachelors, and FBI? Yeah. I don’t think so.” 
“Weren’t you Mrs FBI?” 
“That’s Miss FBI to you. Mrs is reserved for happy married stupid people.” You grumbled and closed your eyes. 
“Wow.” 
“Wow What.” 
“He was really the one wasn’t he.” 
You nodded. “I really thought….god I’m so stupid.” You stood up and started pacing along the porch of your house. 
Once you and Spencer had broken up, you needed to get out of there. There had to be somewhere where he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t find you. So you closed your eyes and pointed to a random spot on the map. Then when you realized you pointed to Las Vegas, you sat down and wrote down what you knew about Spencer, then tried to find somewhere that he had the lowest percentage of going. 
And Fairlee seemed like the right place. There was nothing for him out here. 
Except for you. 
But Spencer didn’t feel that way. Not anymore at least.
You had taken up teaching, obtaining your teaching certificate up in Vermont and becoming one of ten teachers in the high school (which supported any child in a half hour radius). 
It wasn’t hunting down serial killers, but it was still fulfilling. 
That’s how you met Lucille. She was another teacher, in need of a roommate, and the rest is history. 
“You’re floating away again.” 
You snapped back to the conversation. “Sorry. Just. Really thought we were going to get married and be with each other and shit but.” 
“But?” 
“He wasn’t ready. You’d think three years knowing one another and being friends, and then another three years of dating would, you know. Add up to something.” 
“I’m sorry sweetie.” Lucille took your hand and squeezed it tightly. “He doesn’t deserve you.” 
“Yeah…maybe, I don’t know.” 
She squeezed it again. “Tonight’s the night Damian invited us all down to the bar to hang out, I know we said no but…might as well get free drinks out of a guy who will never get the hint. Free booze, boost of ego. You’re young, you’re hot.” 
“I see what you’re doing.” You smiled down at her. “But it’s raining and I’m not in the mood to get soaking wet just from walking from the house to the car then the car to the bar….”
“Pleaseeeee.” 
Just as you were about to answer, a pair of headlights turned onto your driveway. 
You’d know those stupid fucking headlights anywhere. 
“Who do we know that drives a black suburban?” 
Lucille shrugged. “I don’t think we know anyone who has one in town, why? Is that what the car is?” 
You nodded, your stomach dropping. 
“Luce. Hide the weed.” 
“Why, it's not Tom and you know he’s over here every—-“
“Now. Luce.” 
She furrowed her brows as the headlights stopped in front of the house. She quickly grabbed everything and went into the house. 
You stood on the porch, in your pajamas pants, and a sweatshirt, hands in the front porch. 
The car turned off and you watched as three figures got out of the car and walked up to the porch, freezing as they looked at you, the rain pouring down on them. 
“Why are you here Hotch?” 
The man was frozen,and he looked over at Emily, who was just as baffled to see you. 
“Y/n?” 
“Why are you here?” You asked again. 
“Why are you here?” 
“This is my home Em.” You stepped back a couple of steps and gestured for them to come up onto the porch so they don’t have to stand in the rain anymore. 
Spencer was silent the whole time, not taking his eyes off of you. 
The three of them moved up the porch and went towards the door, but you blocked them. 
“You need a warrant if you want to enter my house, Hotch. What are you doing here.” 
“We need to speak to Lucille Walkner.” 
“Why.” 
Emily raised her eyebrows, and crossed her arms. She was used to how stubborn you were, but being on the receiving end of it was something she was not a fan of. 
“It’s in regards to the string of murders y/n.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “I can guarantee you that I have been with Lucille every moment of every day for the past two weeks.” 
“We’re not accusing her, we’re just asking—“
You cut Emily off. “Asking her questions. Yeah. I know how this goes. In case you forgot or something. It hasn’t been that long. Why do you need to speak to her.” 
“Because she was the last person seen with the most recent victim.” 
You looked at Spencer for the first time since he got here. “So was I. But somehow you failed to mention that as well. You’re losing your grip, Doctor.” 
The group had never heard your voice so flat, so strict, so full of disdain. It was easy for you to treat him like he was the villain. He felt like one. He was one. 
“Y/n.” 
You broke your staring contest with Spencer and looked over at Hotch. “Get a warrant and come back tomorrow.” 
And with that you walked into your house and locked the door behind you. Feeling a bit more bitter than usual, you turned off the porch light too.
They all stood out there. Dumbfounded. 
And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now your tire tracks and one pair of shoes And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do
When the BAU showed up at your door with the proper paperwork the next morning, both you and your roommate were at work, twenty minutes away. 
Your sense of humor still intact since you managed to leave a sticky note for them: 
At work. home by 4.
But that didn’t stop the caped crusaders of the BAU. 
When they showed up at the school to interview you and your roommate, Lucille went first, recounting the night all three of you went out to one of three bars in the town, and then when you offered to drive her home, she insisted on calling her own roommate. When you watched her get into her roommate's car, the both of you went home. 
When you recounted the same exact story, you both were released for the day. 
“Heard you were a pain in the ass yesterday.” 
You stopped in the hallway and turned around, facing Derek Morgan. “What do you want, Agent.” 
“Woah woah what’s with the formalities.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Derek. I’m really not in the mood. I fit the victimology of the asshole on a murder spree, and the team acted like I didn’t fucking know that. I’ve also realized you haven’t connected the fact that all of them are dating or sleeping with the police force.” 
“All? We only knew two of the five—“
“Because half of them don’t want to admit that they’re cheating on their wives, and the other half don’t want to admit they’re dating anyone regardless of marital status. Not a single one of the victims were married.”
Derek just stared at you. “Touchy subject?” 
You closed your eyes. “I still have a gun license Derek. Don’t make me use it.” 
“Too soon?” 
“Yeah Derek. Too soon.” You sighed as he pulled you into a hug. 
“We miss you y’a know. It’s not the same.” 
“I’m sure.” You squeezed him tightly. 
“And I’m serious. We haven’t found anyone nearly as good as you have been.” He whispered, kissing your head. “Your desk is still empty. Hotch won’t let anyone sit there. I think he’s hoping you’d come back. I think we all are.” 
“I can’t even look at him and it’s been two years” you whispered trying not to cry. 
“I know.” He just squeezed you. “I know.” 
“God I just….”
Derek pulled you into an empty classroom the second he felt your body tense up. There was one thing you hated more than crying, and it was crying in public. Once the door to the classroom was closed, he pulled you back into the hug, letting your tears pour down his shoulder.
“God I thought I’d never have to see you people again.” 
Derek chuckled. “Clearly you didn’t read your contract. It’s required that you’re supposed to see me at least seven times a year and if you don’t, I hunt you down.” 
You laughed through your tears and sat down on one of the desks. “You wish.” 
“I do.” 
“Be serious Derek.” 
“I am.” 
You sighed and looked up at him. “Well. Now you know where I am so. Come and visit me I guess.” 
“Oh I plan on it gorgeous.” 
You used the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away some of the tears still clinging to your cheeks. 
“He misses you too.” 
“Derek….”
He knew it ws dangerous territory, but he had to let you know—He needed you to know how it was affecting everyone, even though it’s been two years. “He does.” 
“Why would you tell me that Derek.”  
“You have to–
“Have to what Derek. I don’t wan—that’s a lie. What I would fucking give to be back in DC; back at the FBI. But I can’t do it Derek. I can’t go back.” 
“But–”
“No.” You backed away from him, out of his arms. “I’m not going back.”
“Please.” Derek watched as your back straightened and your eyes hardened. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were just starting to move on. Fuck. He watched as you closed yourself off again. 
“Do you need anything else agent or can I go.” 
“Y/n…”
“Then goodbye Agent Morgan.” 
So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad That I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad No, I am no longer funny 'cause I miss the way you laugh You once called me forever now you still can't call me back
Unexpectedly, but expectedly, the killer was caught. He was some sort of religious nut who had decided that “immoral sinners” be put in your place. 
That was something you did not miss: the misogynistic murderers. 
But the BAU was getting ready to leave. You were grateful that they had come and protected the community you had grown so close to, but the thought of them knowing where you were made you nervous. 
You knew Penelope most likely tracked you from time to time, and you weren’t trying to live completely off the grid/untraceable. But seeing them in person, watching them run around your town, was nerve-wracking. 
Seeing Spencer fucked you up the most though. 
He looked okay; or better than you at least. He was completely and utterly okay, and it bugged the shit out of you. How could he be okay, how could he move on and be happy without you, while you are stuck still trying to locate the remaining pieces of your shattered heart.
To Spencer, you were a wonderful experience. But to you, Spencer was everything. 
The BAU had left, no goodbyes were in order since you had fulfilled your goal of attempting to burn every bridge you had. It was painful, but you just couldn't help it. They reminded you of Spencer. Everything reminded you of Spencer. 
Lucille watched as you slowly transformed back into that lost person from two years ago. Your smile never reached your eyes. You drank just enough to be concerning, but not enough to continuously push the boundaries of alcoholism. Your face was pale. You never laughed or cracked jokes any more. 
All you could do was think of Spencer. Waking up next to him, his arms around your waist. The smell of his apartment, the rides to work, the glances from your desk to his desk. It was all just too painful. 
There were moments where you would pick up your phone and sometimes it felt like the world was against you. Derek posted a picture from some sort of day off, and suddenly you didn’t follow him anymore. Or, if you opened NPR, Doctor Spencer Reid was the headliner in a speaker series at Georgetown in blah blah blah. So you stopped listening to the radio. 
Every since he stepped out of the car in your drive you, you’ve wanted to call him. You’ve wanted to hear him speak to you like he did, to love you like he did. You wanted to call him and hear him apologize and tell you everything was going to be okay and this was all just a big misunderstanding and you were his forever. 
But you had a feeling that if you called, he wouldn’t pick up. 
Oh, that'll have to do My other half was you I hope this pain's just passin' through But I doubt it
One Year Later…
Time flies. Leaves change. Life moves on. 
But suddenly it's back to October and you find yourself in a new town, somewhere completely different. Another fresh start. Maybe this one will stick. 
But then you get a call.  
And it’s from Erin Strauss, offering you your job back, and your hesitation gave her all of the information she wanted to hear. You had three days to make a decision. 
Do you continue to run from place to place, hoping and praying that maybe someday you’d be able to feel like you deserved to be loved again. Hoping that someday someone might actually want to stay. They might want you to stay. 
Do you stay in this new town, and get attached to the people, making new friends, reminding you of the old ones, and hoping that it will be enough to fill the holes in your skin. 
Do you continue to teach. Do you continue to shape minds even though it’s not something you had ever dreamed of doing. Especially when it feels like you’re trying to force your body into loving something it doesn’t. 
Or
Do you go back to the FBI–the BAU.
Do you ignite the flame in your chest and let yourself enjoy the chase. LEt yourself be happy with your job and treasure every moment you get to catch the bad guy. 
Do you accept the job and move back to the desk you belong at, surrounded by your friends. Once again in a building you call home, letting your guard down for the first time in three years. 
Do you let your guard down and talk to Spencer and watch yourself undo all of the progress you had made. Watch as your resolve crumbles and your heart aches and you can;t even breathe around him because it hurts to see him. 
Do you give up and follow him around like some lost puppy and beg for him to take you back so maybe you’ll be able to melt your waxen heart and be happy again. 
You don’t take the job. You never hear from Erin Strauss again. 
And I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed And it's half my fault, but I just like to play the victim I'll drink alcohol 'til my friends come home for Christmas And I'll dream each night of some version of you That I might not have, but I did not lose Now your tire tracks and one pair of shoes
Sometimes in your sleep, you can see what your wedding would have looked like. The venue, the florals, your outfits and shoes. Your closest friends and family by your side as you commit your soul to be bound to his. 
But every time you get to the I Do’s, Spencer says yes. 
It hurts because you never even made it that far. 
You didn’t even get an engagement ring. 
All you got were pitiful looks and sympathetic glances while Spencer rambled on about how much he didn’t understand marriage or want children–not that you did, but you would have liked for it to have been a discussion between the two of you. 
You would have liked a lot of things. 
Sometimes, in your dreams, Spencer proposes. 
It never leaves your mind, watching as he publicly declares his love for you. Apparently, that was too much to ask for. 
And I'm split in half, but that'll have to do Have to do
The pain of waiting to be loved feels like you’ve but split down the middle, letting yourself melt apart. The skin, no matter how hard you try, can never be stitched back together, and even if you manage to get some back, it scars over, reminding you for the rest of your life how unloveable you feel. 
Maybe you’ll get lucky and someday you can learn to live with never being truly whole again. 
Since Spencer owns half of you, and you will never be whole without him.
Part 2
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
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Supersons +1 prompt answer Parte Dos
Parte Uno
Original Prompt
Jon couldn't help but take a peek at the large metal ring constructed behind the massive form of Dr Fenton, its size and shape dwarfing man and son. He couldn't watch for much longer, however, as their encounter with Daniel was expedited by Damian's impatience. Maybe he was just itching for a fight, or a supervillain to beat down. Either way, as Superboy, it was his job to make sure Daniel walked out with all his limbs intact!
"Daniel Fenton." But Damian was interrupted just as fast as he had started.
"Ew, no, it's Danny thank you very much. Only my parents when they're angry, and- bleh- Vlad, call me Daniel."
Damian scowled (he was doing that a lot today). "Daniel Fenton, we have some questions for you."
"Guess that's not gonna happen."
Time to intervene. Jon stepped between Damian and Danny, arms outstretched, with a friendly but diplomatic smile. "What Damian here means is we're suuuuper curious about your dad's research, aren't you Damian?"
"...Yes."
"If you wanna know more about my Dad's research, why don't you uhh." Danny bobbed his head at Mr Fenton's direction, the man in the midst of grabbing onto an unfortunate bystander and extolling the virtues of his next invention.
"Your father has proven lacking in his ability to explain his own work, which is why the responsibility now falls on to you, Daniel Fenton, if that's even your real name."
Wow, laying it on real thick, aren't you Damian.
Danny very pointedly ignores the death stare (hehe, death stare) from Dami to look to Jon. "And you are...?"
"Jon, I'm here with my dad too! He's a reporter, but some of this stuff's got me bored out of my mind. I mean, a flying toilet? Really??"
This manages to get a chuckle out of Danny. "You saw that too? And here I thought I'd get to see some normal inventions around here."
"I know right! I feel subconscious even with bathroom stalls and stuff. What are you gonna do, bring a flying curtain?"
"Honestly I know some folks back home who could find it handy." Danny said, a mysterious smirk on his lip. What could be so mysterious about a bunch of streakers back home? Or...
"Would you like to elaborate on that statement, Fenton?" Damian cut in. "Or the function of the garish-looking gateway erected by your Father?"
"Oh that? That's the Fenton PortaPortal."
"Porta what?" Jon asked.
"The Porta Portal. Portable Portal. It's like the one back home, 'cept it's light enough to move around."
"Portal to where exactly?"
Danny shrugs. "The Ghost Zone, where else?"
"You mean to say your parents have breached the afterlife using science?"
"Hah!" Danny laughs. "But it won't work, trust me." There was that knowing grin again.
"You seem pretty sure, Danny. Also wait, you have one of these back home?"
"Yeah, and it let in the raging hordes of the undead on my town. Overshadowing (that's possession btw), taking over the school with meat, box-based assault, replacing people like changelings, that one time a ghost tried to blow up my sister with a laser, that one time the Ghost King kidnapped the entire town and transported it to the Realms..." Danny listed out various dangerous situations like it was Tuesday, ignorant of the dawning horror upon his audience's faces. Jon himself was starting to feel a little green. Ghosts? Hundreds of ghosts? Each of them capable of possession, and according to Danny, much more?!
"How has the Justice League not heard of this kind of thing?" Jon tried, but failed to hide the slight shiver in his voice.
Danny shrugged. "Guess they dismissed our calls as pranks or something."
"Your father wishes to unleash the legions of undead upon Gotham?!" Damian stepped forward, getting up in Danny's face.
"Woah woah woah, chill out man. Mom and Dad actually learned from the last time and built like eight layers of shielding around the portal, not that it'll be necessary since it won't work anyway."
"And why are you so sure? Did you sabotage it? For whwat purpose would you tamper with your own parents' inventions?"
"Dami, maybe we shouldn't jump to conclusions." Jon said, trying to pull Damian away without any obvious use of super strength.
"Yeah Dami, I'm just a kid, like you. You see an engineering degree anywhere that can be used to sAboTAgE anything? 'Cause I don't."
Damian glared at the other boy for just a second longer, before Jon was finally able to pry him off the poor kid. "I'm so sorry, Damian's just kinda intense sometimes, he really means well I-"
"It's fine. Besides, I'm bored as hell over here too. Since we're about sixty-nine million years below the average age of this place. what say we hang and laugh?" Danny got up and stretched his legs.
"Sure! Hey you seen the oven that's supposed to bake pizza in under ten seconds? Come on, Damian spotted this amazing design flaw, you just have to come with."
As Jon dragged them away, Damian muttered under his breath, deviously. "Good job, Kent, escorting Fenton to a secondary location for further questioning."
~~~~~ They spent the next hour roaming the convention centre, laughing and snorting their lungs out at the inventions, and the rich suckers lapping them up. Although Damian was initially as frosty as Superman's ice breath, Danny's mention of a glowing green ghost dog managed to gain his attention, if veiled behind suspicion and accusation. Looks like no squeezing was necessary, but the idea of a whole town of magical beings that possessed as easily as they breathed still made Jon nauseous.
"My parents actually get me keep him, without the threat of dissection, it's amazing!"
"Your parents dissect animals?" Damian spat out with all the hatred of a thousand dying suns.
"Ghosts, and they never have. Kept getting away. For some reason. Nowadays they're more into non-invasive study. and by non-invasive I mean totally invasive of things like privacy, and alone time." Danny grumbled.
"I feel you, man." Imagine having a dad with super hearing. Or growing up with the world's greatest stalkers.
"Privacy is an illusion." Damian being normal challenge IMPOSSIBLE
They had no more time to banter before Dr Fenton's booming voice echoed across the centre.
"AND NOW FOR THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR, THE SHOWCASE OF THE FENTON PORTAPORTAL AND THE LATEST IN FENTON SURVEILLANCE TECHNOLOGY, BEHOLD!"
"Just watch." Danny said.
Jack slammed his fist upon the on button, which was thankfully on the outside this time. The circular rings around the portal spun and spun, creating an electric whirring sound building up to a crescendo...
Only for the portal to fizzle out, as the crowd's jeers reached a fever pitch.
"Told you so."
Danny's triumph lasted not for another minute, however, when his body shivered and a cold mist broke through his lips. "Shit." He muttered. At least Jon and Damian were looking away. Danny's eyes scanned the crowd. Jack Fenton's sorrow was wiped away as the sensors in his suit came to life. He whipped out a comically large ecto-gun, shouting. "I KNEW IT! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK FROM GHOSTS!!!"
Danny needed look no longer as piercing laughter filled the auditorium. A swarm of green bats descended upon the centre, causing chaos and confusion. Those among the crowd sensible enough to run for the exits found themselves halted by bars locking them shut. Jack opened fire, but was overwhelmed by dozens of ghost bats.
Danny looked for anywhere he could silp away and transform. Damian and Jon did the same. None of them could an opportunity, as two pairs of hands swept them off their feet, and bindings tied them together. Their eyes widened as they gazed upon their captors. Two men adorned with white face paint. One in a gothic waistcoat, the other with green hair and a purple suit.
The infamous Joker, and the not as infamous Freakshow, both in hysterical laughter.
"I really gotta give it to you Danny-boy, that sabotage act you pulled really put us for a loop!" The Joker gasped out between laughs. He pulled out a remote with a large red button. "But I, the Joker, have out-sabotaged your sabotage! AHAHAHAH"
The Joker pressed the buttom, causing the portal to roar back to life.
"Damian!" Bruce Wayne yelled.
"Jon!" Clark Kent shouted.
"DANNY BOY!" Jack cried out, but they were too late to stop the swarm of bats carrying all three boys through the newly reactivated portal, and were too late to follow before the whole thing blew to pieces in a fiery halo.
To be continued....
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momentomori24 · 2 months
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I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.
Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.
Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.
And to people like this:
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''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?
Same thing goes for people like this:
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Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?
And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.
This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.
To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.
To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.
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badchoicesworld · 8 months
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hello hello hi ! i hope you're doing well ! may i request a miles!42 and hobie with like a butterfly mutated reader (masc) ? ironically he's more bug than beauty and has alot of features that he tries to hide (antennae, long ears and :3 mouth that opens up to a long tongue to suck up food ? he has teeth too but theyre sharp with fangs in the splatoon inkling way. skin is like a bug's sort of hard and exoskeletonly and bro is just really fluffy. like his wrists and neck have fluff)
reader is a result of like a weird science experiment gone wrong so he sort of feels like an alien trying to fit in whenever his features pop out. he just wants to live an ordinary life but somehow keeps on gettinh pulled in the middle of every superhero fight there is :'). also ! ARTKIDDD
im sorry if the req got really specific to work w aha :') hope you have a good one !
hobie brown and miles42 with butterfly mutated boyfriends !
huge fan of these mutated readers, i am however a tmnt man so (i fuckin see you btw, my most active friend and that tmnt blog)
separate, established relationships
warnings: nah
pairing: hobie brown x masc!reader, miles morales!42 x masc!reader
requests: check out my guide/masterlist
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★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧
we all know hobie’s a massive fan of making a statement, so he thinks that you look absolutely incredible with your mutation
will likely go through a phase of insisting you should embrace it and flaunt it, he’s gotta be told a few times that you just wanna live an ordinary life
sounds a little boring to him, but whatever suits you, y’know?
he’s not the guy to go to however for tips on how to blend in, do not ask
you’ve got a butterfly mutation, he’s got a spider mutation- he calls you the bug boys sometimes when he’s feeling hyped up and you can feel how you wanna feel about that
if you ever tell him about your mutation, about the experiments and such, it just fuels hobie’s habit of antagonising authority n all that
you’re like walking proof of the government taking advantage of the people through the systems they put in place to protect them but in reality are just some form of propaganda to give the public false hope and sense of security
yeah, hobie wasn’t surprised when you told him
not too pressed over it either since it’s been and done, no point in getting worked up over something thats irreversible and apart of you now
feels disrespectful to even feel bad to a degree
of course he feels bad that you were experimented on, but he’s not gonna say anything about your actual mutation
does however have something inappropriate to say about ur tongue im sorry
yknow what hard skins good for ? drawing on, let him please
yknow what fluff around you ur neck and wrists is great for ? hobie and his desperation for contact, ur mad comfy dawg
he likes to wear his studded collars and wrist bands in the same places as your fur sometimes, matching innit
hobie absolutely recognised how badly you want to have an ordinary life, so can honestly empathise and sympathise when you somehow manage to find yourself sucked into every super scrap in the city
he can try diverge the fights, but can’t promise a thing since they tend to be unpredictable
hobie’s plenty happy to diverge from large crowds with you if it helps you stick out less, he’ll navigate for the two of you and somehow come up with insane routes to get to where you need to be
will diy you clothes tailored to your mutation, shirts with holes in the back for your wings just so they don’t have to be uncomfortably folded under clothes n stuff
miles42
i feel like with society going up in flames, standing out is something you generally wanna avoid in earth42, just doesn’t seem so safe
so miles definitely goes the extra mile (ha) to make sure you’re not gonna stick out too much
if you’re smaller than him he’ll for sure lend you certain things to wear if they cover you up well enough, he knows just about every nook and cranny in the city to hide in whenever your features decide to make a guest appearance
like if you’re ever just walking down a street then your antenna poke out, he’s very fast to act and doesn’t make a big deal out of it
now you either just chill in an alley together or start making your way home through the intricate backstreets miles can effortlessly navigate
he appreciates your mutation though, it’s one of them things that he can silently admire and daydream about instead of worrying about the future
realistically ? you could be a result of a really shitty human experiment gone wrong at oscorp, god knows they can take advantage of the people without a spider-man to protect them
if you ever reveal this to miles, he’s obviously upset, but it’s probably predicted at this point
i imagine in his universe that they’re a force to be reckoned with
asks his mum to make things for you sometimes, to help you feel better about your appearance and to help hide certain features that you wanna
can completely understand your desire to want an ordinary life, he does too
he’ll help you achieve it, it’s one of his dreams and he can only hope to share it
your mutation takes time to get used to but it gets to the point where miles simply won’t bat an eye at your mutation, he treats you like any other person in the world except he loves you- wants so badly for you to feel normal if that’s what you want
in the least condescending way he will insist from time to time for you to stay home, just for your own safety if he starts to notice a particular rise in stats
he completely understands your desire to just blend in, but it’s not worth it if you’re genuinely at risk
he gets into the habit of doodling butterfly features on scraps of paper, on the back of his hand during classes- you’re on his mind a lot
says that he’s indifferent towards ur fluff but then he’ll fix it up for you after putting a shirt on and it’s a lil outta sorts
★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧
sorry this is kinda brief and not great, i’ve been out of it for the longest time but i’m tryna provide 💪💪
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My Redneck Neighbor Doug has watched The Bad Batch Season 3 opener:
LEEEEET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!
This is more pithy than normal: Doug's been busy with work, as have I. But I'm determined to hear his thoughts on The Daddy Warcrimes 'n Company so here we go!
These were all via text messages, btw.
CW: Doug Doug's as you know Doug will do. Away!
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Episode 1: 'Little Orphan Blondie's Shit Internship at The Museum of Science and Industry'
Poor Little Orphan Blondie, stuck in The Museum of Science and Industry in a shit summer job because they got bills to pay. Except they got rid of the dinosaurs and walk in heart and filled it with gross shit.
Hey look, they still got the coal mine exhibit! Man I miss Chicago.
(Doug, that museum has never had dinosaurs. “What, since when?”)
MUTANT JIMMERS EVERYWHERE! Aw, Little Orphan Blondie gave one her chicken nuggets! And it’s shy, aw, I hope it’s okay.
Poor Mutant Jimmers…she named her?! Swear to Christ Almighty if that dog gets Old Yeller’d I’ll just lose it. 
That freaky alien thing that ran the mall on the ocean looks sad, I bet she wishes she fell into the water and got eaten by a shark or something. I wish you did too, lady. 
The Sons of Robocop really are everywhere, they must be a cult or something. They look cool, I’d join, why not. Think they get 401ks?
Oh man, Daddy Warcrimes is down bad. Poor Daddy Warcrimes. Man, all my clone boys are stooped and sad…this ain’t good. 
At least Little Orphan Blondie can craft! Man, she should start selling those at the Museum of Science and Industry’s gift shop. Maybe Tarkin can bring one back for the grandchildren he’s not allowed to talk to since the restraining order was put in.
Oh, there’s Stepsister Beth, she seems on edge. Must’ve gotten divorced recently, don’t blame her ex, I bet she screamed at him for leaving cabinets open who knows. How do her eyeballs not hurt after wearing those dumb glasses all day?
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Episode 2: 'Night Elves and Neverland Ranch'
The night elves from Warcraft invaded Star Wars and got horns or something and now they have a castle that looks like a boss level in Diablo IV or V or how many Diablo games they got now.
Now they yelling at people and throwing them in the basement today. Makes sense, gotta fight the orcs and stuff. Think they fight the orcs in the basement?
The Night Elf Horned Queen hired Daddy Rambo and Julio to get people, I guess they’re turning into Boba Fett or something. They got her son's horn back, guess that's good. Oh they need new paint jobs on their armor.
Do they end up in the basement in the Diablo Boss Level? No? And off they go! 
Daddy Rambo and Julio are in their homeland of FLORIDA! Hell yeah, SPACE FLORIDA! And they’re bringing the talking trashcan with them using straps! Go Julio go!  Yeah, boa vines, this is TOTALLY the Everglades! 
Escaped clone boys! Oh man! Shit, is Neverland Ranch in the jungle? Oh man–oh, they know what they’re doing. Good kids. Real good kids. Oh what happened to the rest of them? Oh Meat Muffin, this ain't good :(.
You know what? Them clone boys are smart, take it back, this ain’t Space Florida, this is Space Louisiana! Them baby boys gone get feral and run off into the bayou and live in the caves and now you know my origin story, Meat Muffin! 
If this was Florida they'd just end up working the late shift at Zaxby's and smoking rocks in the parking lot. We know better, we French and all.
I bet they’ve been living on nutria and half-empty chicken boxes from behind the gas stations. Resourceful scrappy kids and I can tell its making Daddy Rambo proud.
Oh holy SHIT, there go them vines! It's like the kudzu all over again, maybe this is LaFourche Parish?
See, them boys are definitely white trash, Mandalorian rednecks. Look at em, living in the woods and hijacking a plane, but they good kids, saving their brothers. Even saved the robot too. 
Man, all the feels, them poor little boys. What will they do now?  Oh, they're going to Space Daytona! Good, wait, I saw the trailer, doesn't the Empire invade it? THIS AIN'T GOOD MEAT MUFFIN!!!
Wait...where's Toaster Strudel and Rex?
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Episode 3: 'Blondie Got a Gun'
Well here's the Emperor. He wants to be immortal. Gotta make that other movie make sense or something.
Where's Darth Vader? Is he running the government when the Emperor is running around giggling?
Don’t you DARE kill Mutant Jimmers, you damn droid. I hate that ugly assed stupid thing. It looks like its scarecrow daddy fucked a microwave and then left it enough money to go to Planned Parenthood but instead spent it on crack and there ya go.  
Oh shut your goddamned yap, Jimmy the Scientist. I bet he gloves that hand up because he keeps shoving it up his own ass and that's why he walks funny all the damn time.
The Emperor also has a Diablo IV or VIII boss level all to himself too at the Museum of Science and Industry. How many Diablo games are there, Meat Muffin?
YEAH, LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE! GIT ER DONE!!! They're out! Oh wow! There she goes with Daddy Warcrimes! Kill em all and let GOD SORT THEM OUT! That's my GIRL!!!!
Blondie’s got a gun 
Blondie’s got a gun
Her whole world's come undone
Shooting droids is FUN!
GO MUTANT JIMMERS GO!!!! 
YEAH BLONDIE DADDY WARCRIMES AND MUTANT JIMMERS!!!!!!
I AIN'T A BULLS FAN BUT REPEAT THE THREE PEAT! YEAH!!!!!!
....so when we gonna get Toaster Strudel and Rex? Next one? Where's my reg boys?!
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Tagging those who missed my Cajun neighbor. LOOKS LIKE REDNECK DOUG IS BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS!
@skellymom @amalthiaph @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @merkitty49 @supremechancellorrex @yeehawgeek @wrenkenstein @techs-stitches @deezlees @autistic-artistech @perfectlywingedcrusade @auntie-venom @megmca @thecoffeelorian
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yangkitties · 11 months
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Sleepy Hearts ✩ s.cb
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pairing: seo changbin x gn!reader [established relationship] || word count: 0.3k genre: fluff || warnings: proof read but its been a while since i wrote this so it might be a shitty read 😔, you might end up needing to hug changbin real bad by the end of this btw 😁 synopsis: Tossing and turning in bed, Changbin tries to find a comfortable position to hopefully fall asleep in. Unsuccessful in his endeavours, he accidentally succeeds in waking you up. note: school has started for me and the anxiety of it all has been making me want to write a lot more but bc im an all science student im swamped with work even though it has only been 3 days :( so i will make do with posting an older piece of writing :] anyways, as always, i hope you enjoy reading it and ofc, my ask box is always open 🫶
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Changbin hadn’t been sleeping very well. He had a bunch of deadlines comping up but he’d been going through a bit of a writer’s block lately, and the stress was getting to him.
And today wasn’t any different. Changbin laid there, covered in a warm duvet, sinking into a pile of pillows, staring at the ceiling listening to your shallow breaths and soft snores. He tried to focus on your breathing, to calm his mind so he could hopefully get some sleep. 
But to no avail, Changbin was left sleepless for a while longer. Growing impatient, Changbin wiggled under the blankets, trying to get into a comfortable position to sleep in. But all he did was wake you up. 
‘Bin.. baby? Are you still awake?’ You slurred, blinking your eyes and turning towards him. 
He pushed himself closer to you, guilty he woke you up, but happy you were here now. ‘Yeah.. ‘m sorry I woke you up..’ he said slowly, eyes shining up at you. You dragged him closer, his buff body making it harder to complete the task. 
‘S okay love.. is there anything wrong?’ You wrapped a leg around his waist, only to pull him impossibly close to you so that he was tucked into the frame of your body.  ‘Just have a lot on my mind.. I’m worried I’ll disappoint Chan hyung if I can’t submit these songs on time,’ whispering sadly, he cuddled up to you. ‘Oh baby. You know Chan’s never going to be disappointed in you for something you can’t control right? It’s absolutely okay to go through slumps my little beloved..’ you spoke into his hair, pressing careless kisses into his soft curls. 
You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. ‘You’re doing so well, and everyone is so proud of you. As long as you’re trying your best baby, no one is ever going to be disappointed in you.’ Changbin smiled, grateful to have you by his side. 
‘Y/N.. what can I ever do to tell you how much I love you.. thank you.’ He nuzzled into your neck, giving you a bunch of little kisses. ‘Well why don’t you try sleeping then?’ 
Changbin just giggled, managing to cuddle into you more. And just like that, to the sound of your heartbeat, Changbin falls asleep.
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©️ yangkitties 2023 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost 
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sungbeam · 3 months
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𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 — teaser!
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nonidol!kim younghoon x f!reader
neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block.
▷ genre, teaser warnings. friends 2 lovers, mutual pining, college au, swearing, mentions of chemistry & physics
▷ projected release date. february 16th/17th hopefully!
▷ estimated wc. 24-26k ... maybe
this is the seventh installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there are multiple references to previous fics & i highly encourage u to read those; all other yns will be referred to as _!yn. (ayc occurs DURING party people)
a/n: surprise 🦅 @justalildumpling approved btw
TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 500 WORDS)
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Younghoon had never been tardy to your tutoring sessions last year, so you weren't surprised when you saw him seated at your usual table in the corner. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, waving. There was a blue colored beanie over his head and a brown corduroy jacket draped over his shoulders.
He noted the container in your hands and his eyes widened like saucers. “You did not.”
“I told you I would save you a piece,” you said sheepishly as you set the container down in front of him and took a seat.
“You—” His bottom lip jutted out. “I can't accept this.”
“You have to. It has your name on it,” you insisted, pointing out the little “Younghoon” scrawled on the side in Sharpie with a smiley face. It was customary in your household to write names on containers if they weren't already color coded or marked with a label. Label makers cost more than Sharpies did, and most of the time, your family didn't mind scrubbing the ink off if needed.
Younghoon's smile was sweet like the pastry sitting in the Tupperware. “I literally made French toast as soon as we stopped texting.”
You laughed. “No way.”
“Yes way! I dragged Hyunjae's ass out of bed,” he told you with great energy, eyes alight as he recalled his late morning antics to you. “I really didn't expect that you would bring me a slice, Yn, you sweetheart.”
“We had lots of leftovers and I just knew the most enthusiastic bread fanatic I knew had to try some of my big brother's toast,” you told him, pleased with his reaction.
He seemed at a loss for words; he just kept looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and you wondered how you could replicate this reaction over and over again. “Thank you,” was what he settled on. “I—” He gestured to the container, to you, to the container, “It means a lot.”
“You're welcome,” you said simply.
Younghoon heaved a great sigh and stood up. “Now I have to buy you some snacks—no. Yn, sit your ass down.”
Your eyes widened a comical amount and you plopped yourself back onto the chair.
His lips wiggled as he held back a smile. “Don't move.”
“You don't have to do this, Hoon,” you shook your head as he began making his way over to the aisles.
“What's that rule in chemistry? Energy can neither be created nor destroyed?” He queried from within the drinks aisle.
“The first law of thermodynamics,” you supplied. “It's not just chemistry though. It's prevalent in all the sciences.” You weren't sure where he was going with this.
“Yeah, well—” He paused. You couldn't see him from where you were, but even the rustling noises stopped. “Shit, that's not the right rule.”
You bit back a laugh. Oh, he was too adorable.
“What's the one where equal and opposite and…?”
Your brain tripped. “Uh, the—the 'for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction’ one?”
More crinkling. “Aha! That's the one. Yeah, so for your actions, I must do as the physicists do, and react accordingly.”
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permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary
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