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#it might be working i think i may be actually getting better at faces!!
bbzb · 3 days
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Don't you think there are too few stories for the 15-year-old version of Dazai? I mean, there could be some really good stories about Dazai when he was fifteen. But either they are really few or I can't find them because of the story name. That's why I'll write here any story ideas that come to my mind.
* There is a big brother-brother or father-son relationship between Oda and Dazai. Actually, there are such stories, but not the kind of story I want. Dazai might get jealous, maybe it will bother Oda a little.
* The story where Oda forbids Dazai from drinking alcohol. That would be funny. Because Dazai drinks even though he is underage. I am sure. This is absolutely contrary to the views of the Chamber. So he suddenly forbids Dazai from drinking alcohol. Dazai either objects or, in order to avoid fighting with Oda, cannot object and waits silently. Maybe even a reward to encourage Dazai to quit.
*Story between Dazai and Kouyou. Yes, I think such stories are quite rare. Kouyou exists in the stories, but she is not on extremely good terms with Dazai. Maybe with a good script, a story in which Dazai is closer to Kouyou can be written.
* Dazai meets Rampo when he is fifteen years old. Yes, I know it seems ridiculous. But Rampo and Dazai are close in age. And there is an episode in the anime that shows Rampo's childhood. Moreover, Rampo can say this is from Port Mafia as soon as he sees Dazai. I think it wouldn't be unusual for them to meet.
*The other is a story where Dazai and Chuuya meet much earlier than usual. While still being tested, Chuuya meets Dazai. There are many different possibilities, for example Chuuya and Dazai may have a better relationship. Or Dazai does something dishonorable and Chuuya hates him even more. It could be fun to read.
*How did Dazai and Oda meet? Oda's thoughts are terrible. After all, there aren't many stories about how they met. But there can be some very good topics on this subject.
* Dazai meets Fukuzawa much earlier. Dazai can meet Fukuzawa while he is in the port mafia or hasn't joined yet. Maybe Fukuzawa will be disturbed by Mori's behavior and want Dazai with him. At the same time, this story can be combined with the story of meeting Rampo.
*Mori and Dazai have a good relationship. It's like a father-son relationship. Yeah, I don't know if I want to read this, but it's still an idea. I can't imagine Dazai and Mori on good terms. But could be. Why would not?
*The story where Mori doesn't like Dazai and makes Dazai's life difficult. This is a pretty common story type, but I'm adding it because I like this type of story.
*The story of Dazai trying to live without joining the Port Mafia. While trying to live on his own on the streets, he looks for food and work and maybe meets Akutagawa on the streets. He was never invited and maybe he met the sheep.
*Dazai joins the Sheep group and is either welcomed or not. Or he met the port mafia but did not join. Mori went after Dazai and met the Sheep Group in the process. He joins them for safety and maybe faces some discrimination.
* Dazai decided not to be in the Port Mafia at a very early age and ran away. Another issue where many different scenarios can be generated.
I'd like to get your ideas. In fact, if anyone writes it, they can send it to me. Sorry for my terrible english. English is not my native language.
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sunlight-my-beloved · 3 months
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January 29th, Grover from Percy Jackson and the Olympians!
Hi, hello, I am on the self-imposed challenge to draw a face every day, if you have suggestions feel free to send me an ask!
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vetyr · 27 days
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hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT
Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.
When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.
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I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.
Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.
For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.
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Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.
The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!
It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.
I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).
Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)
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myunghology · 6 months
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twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.
pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).
tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?
a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!
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☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS
nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)
but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.
oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.
other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.
doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..
well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.
—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!
plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)
cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.
he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.
sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.
riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.
☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi
him? in love? absolutely.
if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.
he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.
let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.
he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.
okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.
what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.
ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.
also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.
maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.
spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.
☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.
he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.
it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.
"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd
you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.
floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.
but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.
wait till you tell him that you find him cute..
he explodes
no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.
☆ — JADE LEECH
so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.
always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.
tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.
in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.
similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.
you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.
it's probably best not to ask him though.
he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-
genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.
trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..
☆ — FLOYD LEECH
my condolences if he ever likes you.
just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.
doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.
you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.
plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.
has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.
easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.
also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".
ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.
drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..
☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM
probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..
spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!
you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.
not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.
very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..
hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.
shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.
bro's lovesick
gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..
introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:
"are we not engaged" "NO??"
he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already
he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..
☆ — JAMiL ViPER
like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.
maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.
VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,
"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"
you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.
like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.
jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.
studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.
☆ — SiLVER
im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.
but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.
he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.
you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..
genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)
and that's why lilias opinions are always important..
generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.
but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??
lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?
after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.
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©myunghology
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
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any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO
sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??
*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.
Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.
Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.
Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?
Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?
These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.
When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.
Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.
Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️
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al1fers-haven · 2 months
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Almost Instinctual
Alastor x pregnant!reader
‼️pregnant reader, pregnancy in general, overprotective Alastor, a bit of angst, secret pregnancy‼️
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Prompt: In where you, y/n, go to the Hazbin hotel for shelter after splitting up with your previous boyfriend. And try and keep your pregnancy a secret until you find a better solution.
Part 1 (you’re here!), part 2
(I am lazy and am writing this like it’s a bunch of facts and writing specific scenes…I might rewrite when I get my laptop.)
(8 weeks/2 months)
You and your boyfriend had split up about a week ago, afraid you’ll run out of money eventually you decided that instead of staying at a creepy motel with no locks, you’d move to a free-helpful option.
Of course you felt a little bad for abusing the owners kindness, using the Hazbin hotel not for redemption, but instead for shelter and food.
Charlie had welcomed you in with open arms (literally, she squeezed you pretty hard.) and even introduced you to everyone except for two who were out running around hell.
Alastor was explained to you as a creepy, tall deer man who may sound rude but has good intentions.
And Charlie explained angeldust as a ‘work in progress’ and told her a couple stories instead of describing him.
Charlie offered you the job of receptionist, claiming that husker wasn’t exactly good with the socializing aspect of it and you happily accepted. Eyes beaming at the opportunity for a job right infront of you.
(12 weeks/3 months)
You were happily greeted with nausea every morning. The morning sickness now starting to affect you more than ever, you haven’t exactly told anyone about your pregnancy and were hoping to be out of the hotel by the time you started showing.
Now working at the hotel for a bit, you noticed that probably wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
“Are you alright y/n?” Charlie peaked her head into the bathroom; a small frown on her face as you heaved a bit, nodding.
“Yup- I’m just dandy..! Mind getting me a wet towel or something love? I think I ate something bad yesterday…” Charlie let out a little gasp and nodded, running off to god knows where just to get that little thing for you.
You had actually started to get to know the patrons of the hotel more, for example. You learned angeldust was actually the pornstar you had heard about all over social media. And he adored three things.
Making people uncomfortable.
Cocaine.
And candy crush.
Husk had given you a couple of sickness remedies, saying that they would help with stomach bugs. All natural just incase you were allergic and you slowly started to warm up to him.
Charlie and vaggie had grown to be very special to you now. Their opposite personalities absolutely making you giggle everytime you hung out with them or went out for groceries.
Now, Alastor was an odd fellow. He was a bit younger than you since you were hellbotn and all but he seemed to act older than you. Calling you things like ‘dear’, ‘Cher’, or Mon biche.
Mon biche was the most common one, and after looking it up. You realized he was calling you my doe, or just doe 90% of the time.
He definetly knew. Not letting you eat any form of ‘raw meat’ that would go on your plate and even specially making drinks for you so you felt like you could participate in drinking games without suspicion.
Overall, he was a total kitten. A bit emotionally stunted in areas of course..but he never failed to brighten the room.
(Unless he was threatening someone.)
(17 weeks/3.2 months)
You started showing, not visibly with clothing on but you were still showing when you sat down.
Your closet changed a bit, from nice outfits to usually a dress you had gotten or some high waisted sweats, trying to be as comfortable as possible in your state.
Alastor had been…odd.
He had started to let you grab his arm when going up or down the stairs, which usually during conversations he’d just stand at the bottom waiting. And he now seemed like he was constantly watching you.
Husker had done the same. The two animal demons in the hotel knowing because of a certain change in smell, it wasn’t like you didn’t know it was going to happen.
Husker had promoted for just leaving you alone and stopping the mean comments, understanding that pregnant women were a force to be reckoned with. (And you appreciated that. You had been crying earlier that day for the cookie you bought not tasting like blueberry’s.)
You cried a couple times because of angel, which Alastor just stared at you as you sniffled and attempted to keep the conversation going.
You also cried about 2 days ago because Charlie bought you a pretty necklace. It was hell.
Alastor tried to be accommodating in the field of emotional intelligence but…he failed. Making you cry more times than he could count and to be honest he only cared that he did because you were quite literally an angel to everyone.
Husker asked you in private one day if Mr smiles was the daddy to that little hellspawn and all you could do was laugh and blush a bit. Telling husker that he wasn’t and that he was just acting that way because she was a single mother.
Husker didn’t understand that, Alastor never had a soft spot for women her age.
(20 weeks/4 months)
First time you let anyone touch your stomach was during this time period, Alastor did so with adoration almost. Mentioning something about how he always had a soft spot for women with children..
You two had grown a bit closer.
Husker definitely still had his suspicions about you and the baby. He really thinks is alastors with the way he had been acting.
The red demon had gone out of his way several times to get you your weird ass cravings. One day you asked for a bite of his venison and then cried because you weren’t allowed to have it
You found him coming near you more often and asking multiple times to touch your baby bump as it grew, and everytime you let him that little tail of his would wag a bit behind him. Seemingly happy with the little life growing inside you.
He got more protective as well. Way more protective. He was your puppy that followed you around basically.
(He totally got you a bunch of ice cream, or helped you out with foods and sickness with his old man knowledge.)
(25 weeks/5 months)
If you wanna talk about awkward? Everyone in the hotel basically thought you and Alastor were a thing with how weird you two were together.
You would always be caught either straightening his bow tie or dusting off his shoulders. The term doting describing the two of you around one another.
May or may have not let it slip to Charlie that ‘it’s not like that, Alastor has said multiple times he doesn’t want to prey on pregnant women.
She asked to be the godmother.
Alastor hated the thought of that actually when you brought up that Charlie might be a good fit when he was giving you a snack. A nerve you didn’t know he had.
Soon everyone knew you were pregnant and angel was absolutely infatuated with this information. Asking who’s it is and stuff like that.
(7 months)
Alastor and you were practically a thing- he would help you out a lot and in return you’d kiss his cheek or help him out with cooking.
He practically worships the ground you walk on. Foot rubs for when they hurt, running a bath for you. Even going out of his way to compliment your outfits (even if you looked downright awful that day)
He even accompanied you to return the ring your ex gave you. Along with a couple other belongings you had from him.
Alastor may or may have not been seen with you outside , and you were mentioned by Rosie the next time.
(8 months)
Alastor and you had become somewhat official, if letting a dude fall asleep on your pregnant stomach bc he wanted to means official. Then yes( you were.
After you had a talk with Alastor about why he acted the way he did around you he simply said it was almost instinctual to take care of you. Something along the lines of him also being a gentleman.
He had invited you out to cannibal town, where you met Rosie and she was absolutely infatuated with you. Asking you questions and being so lovely towards you. Even going as far as mentioning she had her fair share of labor experience when it came to giving birth!
Alastor was very pleased to hear Rosie would help you- a bit scared she would eat the baby though…
(Part two coming out about nine months and the actual baby?)
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luveline · 9 months
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Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)
Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!
thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k
"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 
"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."
You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 
It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 
Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 
"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 
"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 
"Do you have any water?" 
He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"
"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 
"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 
You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 
Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 
Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 
"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 
"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 
"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 
"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 
"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 
You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 
"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.
You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 
You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 
"She's coming around," Hotch says. 
Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 
"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 
You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 
"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 
"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 
"No, you sound funny." 
"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 
"She's okay," Hotch says. 
You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 
"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 
"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 
You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 
"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 
"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.
"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."
"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 
"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 
"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 
"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 
"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 
Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 
You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.
"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 
"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 
Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 
"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 
"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"
"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 
"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 
Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 
Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 
"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 
Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 
You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 
"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 
If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 
You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 
He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 
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Lesson 1: "White Man Painted Black"?
Okay, I recognize that this is a strong foot to step off on! But! If you learn nothing else from this series, if you decide for whatever reason to forsake me: this is the ONE perspective I'd like you to take away!
You may have heard this quote before, when Black fans deride a character design as 'a white man with the brown bucket tool'. On its face, it means exactly what was said. But specifically, what it means is that we recognize that whomever designed the character drew the way they normally draw for a 'default' character in their mind- default usually meaning White/Eurocentric features- and they added a shade of brown within the line art to make that character now 'Black'.
Now if you're feeling defensive, wait just a moment! This discomfort is not inherently a bad thing!
I'm going to use both a 'real world' example first, to show you what your Black fans and peers are seeing, and perhaps you will also understand our discomfort!
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(if anyone was curious, my folder for this lesson is titled 'brad' lmao and you'll see why)
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(I'll have y'all know that I actually worked very hard to make Blackface Brad look mildly presentable lmao I'm sorry, I'm wheezing, I can hardly breathe looking at him 🤣)
You see how, despite knowing where this was going, and using one of the darkest shades of brown in my Skin Tones arsenal, you still know that that's Brad Pitt? That nothing about his hair texture, his lips, his nose, or really anything other than the palette change... changed? And you can still see that?
It's incredibly hurtful to be told that that's supposed to be you. You know it's not, you know why it's not, but rather than hearing how it makes you feel unseen and what they could do to be better (since they wanted to draw a Black character!), the artist lashes out at you.
And as an artist, you might have worked VERY HARD to do this! That might be a real handsome guy you drew!! But... is he really Black? Did you walk into it with the intention, that you were drawing a Black Character, or did you draw a character that just happened to be Black? It seems like a silly thing, but it matters!
Okay. I just finished laughing over Brad. Now let's get into some more perspective changes:
Now, imagine you drew a character. You want to make her Black, so you change the hair and skin colors. All right! You have your Black character... right?
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Changed ONE feature about her? (You should obviously change more than one feature, but let's just go with the simplified example.)
What if, instead of just changing her palette, we changed her:
Hair?
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There isn't nearly enough time in the world, let alone in this little scribble and blurb, for me to describe the IMPORTANCE of Black hair in Black character design. There are so many ways to do curls, afros, braids, twists, locs, SO MANY HAIRSTYLES!! Get used to searching in the 3C-4C hair textures!!!! I plan on doing an entire lesson or two on hair alone, but suffice it to say, Hair Texture is thee BIGGEST giveaway that you 'painted a white person Black'- from cartoon styles to realistic! It reveals itself in your writing as well- just based on how your character takes care of their hair, how your describe the texture, how other people might perceive it... it lets me know just how much research was done. Because we can have straight hair! But again, that's a conversation for a whole 'nother lesson so- come back later 👀?
Lips?
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I love our lips, I really do. There's a long history of shaming Black women in particular for the way our lips look. So when I see them done in all their glory, it makes me very happy. Two-toned lips vary in shade and intensity, so make sure you're using references if you want to be 'realistic', but it doesn't have to be that hard. Even a little subtle shift like this in the design/story description lets me know that a creator was thinking about me.
Nose?
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One thing I've noticed ever since I starting drawing is that... people in a lot of mangas/manhwas barely have noses! I admit, out of all the features on the face, the nose isn't the most important. I think they should be, especially when you want to emphasize that your characters look different! People have different types of noses! I especially want to gear this towards those with a goal of drawing realistic portraits and the like- there, the nose is ANOTHER dead giveaway. There are Black people with aquiline and straight noses- we aren't a monolith- but is that why you drew it? Consider why you went for that nose specifically. That's part of the intent, in all this!
Now, you might be looking at me and going "Ice... this is just character design". To which my answer is: Yes! It is! It feels so basic, and yet if you ask your Black friends/peers how often they've come across this feeling of not being properly drawn/written, from fanart to professionally produced works, it's unfortunately common despite how simple of a concept it is.
I hope that you can walk away from my first lil lesson with new eyes. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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rubber duck
in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!
fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!
Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  
He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 
“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 
“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 
Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 
��I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 
Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 
“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 
“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 
This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  
“How long have you been asleep?” 
“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 
“10:20.” 
“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"
“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 
Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.
“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 
He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 
“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 
“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 
“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 
You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  
“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 
“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 
You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 
For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 
You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 
“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.
“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  
“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 
Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  
“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 
“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 
“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 
“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 
Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 
“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 
Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 
“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 
He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 
“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 
“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 
“What? No Jane Austen?” 
“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 
A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 
“You are utterly ridiculous.” 
“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 
“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 
“Just get the book, Spencer.” 
“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  
A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 
More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 
“Ready to get out?” 
You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 
“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 
“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 
You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 
“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 
“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  
“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 
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moonsaver · 3 months
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Finished penacony. Sunday. Oh dear oh dear.
Yan!Sunday who seems obsessively off with you for the early start of something like a relationship. Calm, but underlying warning tones. One wrong word and you might tip him off too much. You've learned one way to decode his emotions are his wings. They tense up whenever you mention something.. unpleasant. Its a warning. You cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence. The silence passes, and his wings relax. He turns to you with a calm smile on his face. You barely squeezed through, this time.
Yan!Sunday who's just a bit delusional. He deludes himself into thinking about righteousness, and you're some sort of reward for him, for him to keep, and shelter, and nurture, like a christmas gift pet, but something more tender. Tender like a bruise, anyway.
Yan!Sunday, who seems.. to be slipping indisputably. In the corners of your eyes, in private, where he meticulously plans everything, every second where you breathe. He helps you dress and laces up your clothing just as he normally does, but huffs, and insists on doing it again. The first few times, he redid it only twice. His frustration would bleed through his fingers the more things proceeded in time, tightening the lace so much, your limbs almost went blue. He apologizes through gritted teeth, and you forgive him. It doesn't help the fact he practically suffocates you with the way he kisses you, though. His lips land on yours a bit too harshly, and you wonder if he actually hates you. Those thoughts dissipate when he relaxes more into it, though.
Yan!Sunday, who stares at you unblinking, waiting for you in the dreamscape, in the reverie, anywhere. Robin's.. departure has put him under more strain, so just for his sake.. ignore the way he tightly grips your arm, fearing it'll snap.
Yan!Sunday – you can't leave his watchful gaze. The last time you did it, he practically forced you to walk through the real dreamscape, deathly shivering as the atmosphere almost froze you, being forced to walk through unyieldingly harsh and twisted paths, doors never staying in the same place, being forced to use rough traversing methods, the dizziness of the memoria almost feverish. He waits for you at the end, a much gentler version of him. You fall into his arms, sobbing and weeping, and for once he handles you with care. Gently wiping your tears, stroking your hair, his hand guiding the back of your head to his shoulder, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. You notice just how much more warmer he feels in the dreamscape, not just due to the cold atmosphere. His wings gently flutter on your face. Let's leave now, he says. I trust you've learnt, my dear.
Yan!Sunday, who decides that maybe keeping you in the alternate dreamscape, Golden Hour, would be much more preferable. He seethes watching you be eyed by everyone – officials, businessmen, representatives, whoever it may be. He gently lulls you into the dream fluid, kissing your hands, up to your arms, neck, til your cheek, until you finally fall asleep. He places you down and gets to work in a second. When you panic, not being able to wake up, he's right beside you in a heartbeat, telling you there's just been a slight error.
Yan!Sunday, who would even go as far as to construct an entirely new dream for you and you alone. No one would be allowed to visit except him. He tells you it's for the better. Everyone lies in Penacony. Stay put and let him take care of this. Let him take care of you. Of everything. You dont miss the way his hands harden their grip around your waist. His gaze settles gently on yours. It's a harsh contrast to his eerily peering one, in reality. If you even remember what it's like being there, of course.
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izvmimi · 5 months
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cw: this is so goofy. selfship-coded. izuku has a subtle breeding kink (i wrote this what's new). pregnancy mention. condom use. suggestive, minors dni.
you sit warily on the toilet seat, your fiancé right outside the door, and your foot tap tap taps as you wait for the little piece of plastic in your hand to decide your future.
ironically, you don't have the energy for trepidation anymore because you feel like by now you're at this literally every couple of days.
but baby it doesn't feel good?
but don't you want me to feel all of me?
i promise i'll pull out better this time.
just the tip is fine, right?
izuku's outside the bathroom door, giving you privacy as though he wasn't nose deep between your legs just last night, slobbering all over you like a starving puppy presented with a wet meal. for a moment it occurs to you that if you really are pregnant, even if you can clearly handle it financially and emotionally, you'll shove that stick so far up his ass that-
your timer goes off and it's negative.
you sigh.
izuku bursts in at the sound of your voice, immediately uttering a supportive "is everything okay baby?" the shine to his emerald eyes makes you wonder if he actually, deep down, does want you pregnant.
"perfect. no baby."
he grins and kisses your forehead as you adjust your panties up and stand to wash your hands. squishing your cheeks as he has trouble getting his hands off of you, he promises that he'll actually invest in some condoms.
you don't believe him, but you consider making that appointment to your ob-gyn to get an intrauterine device you've been thinking about sooner rather than later.
---
another night comes and he's looked at you like that and he continues to be built like that and you have no choice but to let him do whatever he wants with you, even if it is to drag you not really kicking and not really screaming from your work, going from holding you around your midsection to lifting you up effortlessly so that your crotch is pressed against his face. he sniffs you like an entire dog and you're both terribly embarrassed and terribly aroused by his sheer want for you. izuku is already pressing kisses to your mound through your yoga pants as he carries you to the bed.
"izuku, i still have shit to do!" you argue, but you're holding on tight to his head to keep your balance, as if he would ever let you fall.
"you've worked hard enough," he says, muffled by your legs around his face. "i'm asking politely. may i please have some pussy?"
the fact that he's asking this, just as you land on the bed with a practical bounce is almost offensive. you sit up.
"are you even asking?"
he leans in, grinning as he gets on all fours to descend upon you.
"i mean yeah, of course," he replies, knowing full well that you won't say no as he pulls off his shirt. you shake your head, but your shirt goes over your head as well. he catches your lips in a kiss first, and you sink into the bed under his weight as he practically smothers you in kisses. wet, sloppy, silly, you laugh against each other, groping each other with your hands, and then it occurs to you both at the same time.
condoms.
you pull away, his teeth still grazing at your lower lip.
"izuku, do you have any?"
he blinks for a moment, sitting back on his heels. then his eyes widen.
"yes!"
izuku sounds a little too excited just for condoms, and your eyes narrow, but he practically leaps off the bed and is burrowing through his workbag for something, and you squint, expecting a box.
what he comes up with dries you up so fast you'll need iv fluids.
his grin is wide as he presents to you, proudly, a string of pristine looking condoms, all printed with all might's million watt smile right on the packaging.
"see, i didn't forget!"
a moment of silence passes as you beg the heavens above that your adonis of a partner is not fucking serious about fucking you sideways with his mentor's brand of contraceptive rubbers.
"izuku."
"what?"
"..."
you walk out of the room, immediately, so irate you can't speak.
"WHAT?!" he asks, following you out immediately. "come on!"
there's no way you are coming or cumming anywhere in the next hour. not like this.
you find your seat back at your desk and crack open your hardback textbook as hard as you can, doing your best to ignore the whine his voice has taken. he can actually die of blue balls for all you care.
"come on, it's not that bad!"
you snap your head at him and give him a look, and he immediately recants.
"okay, i'll go out right now and get normal condoms, i promise."
you lick the tip of your index finger and turn the page of your book.
"please, my dick is literally so hard right now, don't you care if i die?"
"perish. let me see," you reply, without turning your head.
"wow!" you can't' help but stifle a laugh at his disbelief. you hear him shift upwards and turn, not even realizing he had been kneeling.
as he stands, you do get a look at his... impressive member. maybe he could die like this, the way that thing is rock hard and waiting desperately for you.
you blink, look at your book, then look back at him. he's looking at you with the puppy dog eyes, and he still looks the way he does and he's still built the way he is, and...
...
moments later, you're folded into a jackknife because your pro hero fiancé somehow always gets his way, but at least, mercifully, his mentor's condom isn't wrapped all over what's pumping in and out of you.
right before your eyes roll back in your head, you can still see all might's smile, and maybe you should have just stuck with the damn pregnancy tests after all.
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lisafication · 11 months
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For those who might happen across this, I'm an administrator for the forum 'Sufficient Velocity', a large old-school forum oriented around Creative Writing. I originally posted this on there (and any reference to 'here' will mean the forum), but I felt I might as well throw it up here, as well, even if I don't actually have any followers.
This week, I've been reading fanfiction on Archive of Our Own (AO3), a site run by the Organisation for Transformative Works (OTW), a non-profit. This isn't particularly exceptional, in and of itself — like many others on the site, I read a lot of fanfiction, both on Sufficient Velocity (SV) and elsewhere — however what was bizarre to me was encountering a new prefix on certain works, that of 'End OTW Racism'. While I'm sure a number of people were already familiar with this, I was not, so I looked into it.
What I found... wasn't great. And I don't think anyone involved realises that.
To summarise the details, the #EndOTWRacism campaign, of which you may find their manifesto here, is a campaign oriented towards seeing hateful or discriminatory works removed from AO3 — and believe me, there is a lot of it. To whit, they want the OTW to moderate them. A laudable goal, on the face of it — certainly, we do something similar on Sufficient Velocity with Rule 2 and, to be clear, nothing I say here is a critique of Rule 2 (or, indeed, Rule 6) on SV.
But it's not that simple, not when you're the size of Archive of Our Own. So, let's talk about the vagaries and little-known pitfalls of content moderation, particularly as it applies to digital fiction and at scale. Let's dig into some of the details — as far as credentials go, I have, unfortunately, been in moderation and/or administration on SV for about six years and this is something we have to grapple with regularly, so I would like to say I can speak with some degree of expertise on the subject.
So, what are the problems with moderating bad works from a site? Let's start with discovery— that is to say, how you find rule-breaching works in the first place. There are more-or-less two different ways to approach manual content moderation of open submissions on a digital platform: review-based and report-based (you could also call them curation-based and flag-based), with various combinations of the two. Automated content moderation isn't something I'm going to cover here — I feel I can safely assume I'm preaching to the choir when I say it's a bad idea, and if I'm not, I'll just note that the least absurd outcome we had when simulating AI moderation (mostly for the sake of an academic exercise) on SV was banning all the staff.
In a review-based system, you check someone's work and approve it to the site upon verifying that it doesn't breach your content rules. Generally pretty simple, we used to do something like it on request. Unfortunately, if you do that, it can void your safe harbour protections in the US per Myeress vs. Buzzfeed Inc. This case, if you weren't aware, is why we stopped offering content review on SV. Suffice to say, it's not really a realistic option for anyone large enough for the courts to notice, and extremely clunky and unpleasant for the users, to boot.
Report-based systems, on the other hand, are something we use today — users find works they think are in breach and alert the moderation team to their presence with a report. On SV, this works pretty well — a user or users flag a work as potentially troublesome, moderation investigate it and either action it or reject the report. Unfortunately, AO3 is not SV. I'll get into the details of that dreadful beast known as scaling later, but thankfully we do have a much better comparison point — fanfiction.net (FFN).
FFN has had two great purges over the years, with a... mixed amount of content moderation applied in between: one in 2002 when the NC-17 rating was removed, and one in 2012. Both, ostensibly, were targeted at adult content. In practice, many fics that wouldn't raise an eye on Spacebattles today or Sufficient Velocity prior to 2018 were also removed; a number of reports suggest that something as simple as having a swearword in your title or summary was enough to get you hit, even if you were a 'T' rated work. Most disturbingly of all, there are a number of — impossible to substantiate — accounts of groups such as the infamous Critics United 'mass reporting' works to trigger a strike to get them removed. I would suggest reading further on places like Fanlore if you are unfamiliar and want to know more.
Despite its flaws however, report-based moderation is more-or-less the only option, and this segues neatly into the next piece of the puzzle that is content moderation, that is to say, the rubric. How do you decide what is, and what isn't against the rules of your site?
Anyone who's complained to the staff about how vague the rules are on SV may have had this explained to them, but as that is likely not many of you, I'll summarise: the more precise and clear-cut your chosen rubric is, the more it will inevitably need to resemble a legal document — and the less readable it is to the layman. We'll return to SV for an example here: many newer users will not be aware of this, but SV used to have a much more 'line by line, clearly delineated' set of rules and... people kind of hated it! An infraction would reference 'Community Compact III.15.5' rather than Rule 3, because it was more or less written in the same manner as the Terms of Service (sans the legal terms of art). While it was a more legible rubric from a certain perspective, from the perspective of communicating expectations to the users it was inferior to our current set of rules  — even less of them read it,  and we don't have great uptake right now.
And it still wasn't really an improvement over our current set-up when it comes to 'moderation consistency'. Even without getting into the nuts and bolts of "how do you define a racist work in a way that does not, at any point, say words to the effect of 'I know it when I see it'" — which is itself very, very difficult don't get me wrong I'm not dismissing this — you are stuck with finding an appropriate footing between a spectrum of 'the US penal code' and 'don't be a dick' as your rubric. Going for the penal code side doesn't help nearly as much as you might expect with moderation consistency, either — no matter what, you will never have a 100% correct call rate. You have the impossible task of writing a rubric that is easy for users to comprehend, extremely clear for moderation and capable of cleanly defining what is and what isn't racist without relying on moderator judgement, something which you cannot trust when operating at scale.
Speaking of scale, it's time to move on to the third prong — and the last covered in this ramble, which is more of a brief overview than anything truly in-depth — which is resources. Moderation is not a magic wand, you can't conjure it out of nowhere: you need to spend an enormous amount of time, effort and money on building, training and equipping a moderation staff, even a volunteer one, and it is far, far from an instant process. Our most recent tranche of moderators spent several months in training and it will likely be some months more before they're fully comfortable in the role — and that's with a relatively robust bureaucracy and a number of highly experienced mentors supporting them, something that is not going to be available to a new moderation branch with little to no experience. Beyond that, there's the matter of sheer numbers.
Combining both moderation and arbitration — because for volunteer staff, pure moderation is in actuality less efficient in my eyes, for a variety of reasons beyond the scope of this post, but we'll treat it as if they're both just 'moderators' — SV presently has 34 dedicated moderation volunteers. SV hosts ~785 million words of creative writing.
AO3 hosts ~32 billion.
These are some very rough and simplified figures, but if you completely ignore all the usual problems of scaling manpower in a business (or pseudo-business), such as (but not limited to) geometrically increasing bureaucratic complexity and administrative burden, along with all the particular issues of volunteer moderation... AO3 would still need well over one thousand volunteer moderators to be able to match SV's moderator-to-creative-wordcount ratio.
Paid moderation, of course, you can get away with less — my estimate is that you could fully moderate SV with, at best, ~8 full-time moderators, still ignoring administrative burden above the level of team leader. This leaves AO3 only needing a much more modest ~350 moderators. At the US minimum wage of ~$15k p.a. — which is, in my eyes, deeply unethical to pay moderators as full-time moderation is an intensely gruelling role with extremely high rates of PTSD and other stress-related conditions — that is approximately ~$5.25m p.a. costs on moderator wages. Their average annual budget is a bit over $500k.
So, that's obviously not on the table, and we return to volunteer staffing. Which... let's examine that scenario and the questions it leaves us with, as our conclusion.
Let's say, through some miracle, AO3 succeeds in finding those hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of volunteer moderators. We'll even say none of them are malicious actors or sufficiently incompetent as to be indistinguishable, and that they manage to replicate something on the level of or superior to our moderation tooling near-instantly at no cost. We still have several questions to be answered:
How are you maintaining consistency? Have you managed to define racism to the point that moderator judgment no longer enters the equation? And to be clear, you cannot allow moderator judgment to be a significant decision maker at this scale, or you will end with absurd results.
How are you handling staff mental health? Some reading on the matter, to save me a lengthy and unrelated explanation of some of the steps involved in ensuring mental health for commercial-scale content moderators.
How are you handling your failures? No moderation in the world has ever succeeded in a 100% accuracy rate, what are you doing about that?
Using report-based discovery, how are you preventing 'report brigading', such as the theories surrounding Critics United mentioned above? It is a natural human response to take into account the amount and severity of feedback. While SV moderators are well trained on the matter, the rare times something is receiving enough reports to potentially be classified as a 'brigade' on that scale will nearly always be escalated to administration, something completely infeasible at (you're learning to hate this word, I'm sure) scale.
How are you communicating expectations to your user base? If you're relying on a flag-based system, your users' understanding of the rules is a critical facet of your moderation system — how have you managed to make them legible to a layman while still managing to somehow 'truly' define racism?
How are you managing over one thousand moderators? Like even beyond all the concerns with consistency, how are you keeping track of that many moving parts as a volunteer organisation without dozens or even hundreds of professional managers? I've ignored the scaling administrative burden up until now, but it has to be addressed in reality.
What are you doing to sweep through your archives? SV is more-or-less on-top of 'old' works as far as rule-breaking goes, with the occasional forgotten tidbit popping up every 18 months or so — and that's what we're extrapolating from. These thousand-plus moderators are mostly going to be addressing current or near-current content, are you going to spin up that many again to comb through the 32 billion words already posted?
I could go on for a fair bit here, but this has already stretched out to over two thousand words.
I think the people behind this movement have their hearts in the right place and the sentiment is laudable, but in practice it is simply 'won't someone think of the children' in a funny hat. It cannot be done.
Even if you could somehow meet the bare minimum thresholds, you are simply not going to manage a ruleset of sufficient clarity so as to prevent a much-worse repeat of the 2012 FF.net massacre, you are not going to be able to manage a moderation staff of that size and you are not going to be able to ensure a coherent understanding among all your users (we haven't managed that after nearly ten years and a much smaller and more engaged userbase). There's a serious number of other issues I haven't covered here as well, as this really is just an attempt at giving some insight into the sheer number of moving parts behind content moderation:  the movement wants off-site content to be policed which isn't so much its own barrel of fish as it is its own barrel of Cthulhu; AO3 is far from English-only and would in actuality need moderators for almost every language it supports — and most damning of all,  if Section 230 is wiped out by the Supreme Court  it is not unlikely that engaging in content moderation at all could simply see AO3 shut down.
As sucky as it seems, the current status quo really is the best situation possible. Sorry about that.
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mayaree-darling · 7 months
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who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU
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from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot
warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)
word count: 2k~
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You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.
You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).
All has never been better.
Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.
The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?
But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).
The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)
It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.
It didn't take long for their will to break.
The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.
This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?
The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.
Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.
This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?
They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.
They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.
They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.
With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.
They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.
It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?
Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.
"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"
There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.
You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.
Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?
As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.
It was all better with you.
When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.
You are their beloved Creator.
As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.
"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."
You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.
Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.
A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.
They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?
Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.
Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.
"What happened to the Creator?"
You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.
"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."
They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?
For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.
It will all be yours.
You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.
They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.
You always had been good at adapting.
You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.
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✨ Masterlist ✨ 
Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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silversodas · 3 months
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I Think There Are Actual Hints That Vox and Alastor Work Really Well Together or More Like They Have All They Need to Work Together
So we know that Vox and Alastor like to define each other by how their preferred medium is better, but what’s interesting is that’s just how they define each other, Alastor being an old fashioned radio and Vox being a sell out TV, but that’s not what they are, what they are is Audio and Video. We even see when one might have done better with the others help, like Alastor’s commercial that he did for the hotel
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His Audio was fine enough, got your attention, but holy shit, the video was awkward at best, it makes you uncomfortable watching it. And it makes it even more awkward when you can tell Alastor is overcompensating with his voice. But what he did know was a little impressive, some people pointed out that he probably did the editing himself. I believe that these out of place skills such as summoning tech and knowing how it works are remnants of Vox. Just like How Vox is always Smiling when he needs to take control of a situation is remnants of Alastor
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They probably learned these things from each other. As a matter of fact the way Alastor kept jumping from scene to scene in the commercial was similar to how Vox kept jumping from visual to visual in the beginning of stayed gone, going vary fast to keep attention. Speaking of which
Stayed Gone is an example where Vox is really strong in visuals, buuuuut probably needed a little help audio wise
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Alastor knows how to lure you in with what you hear, Vox pulls you in with what you see, and yeah he snatches your attention right away and (like I said earlier) jumps from visual to visual and you can’t help but be transfixed
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Buuuuutt that’s Vox’s problem, they are just watching, his audience can’t even grasp what the fuck he is trying to say because Vox is overcompensating with visuals, and it’s how Alastor verbally slaughtered him in stayed gone. Alastor is so charismatic and experienced with capturing an audience with his voice alone that Vox immediately loses his.
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Because, just like how Audio can’t do all the work, neither can video, and one can’t overcompensate for the other, they need to flow together
But I have noticed this a while back, what made me think that they probably work really well together, or rather they have all they need to work together, is what @cringefailvox said about the different outfits that characters like Vox and Alastor wear during songs that have symbolism to it
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Like how Vox always dresses as roles that are the leader or face of an organization Bishop/TV Chef/Captain. Roles that have power, but are at the whims of many people and need the approval of said people to stay in power
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While Alastor is dressed in more subservient roles Nun/Busboy, roles that are essential to run the organization but often go unnoticed, but can pull the rug out from under said organization if they decide to leave. In other words, it might be symbolic that he is a support (until he decides to take it away)
So Vox being the front runner and presenter basically being everything you see (Which is ironic because Vox means The Voice) and Alastor providing support and stability (he honestly doesn’t do to bad with support, stability is up for debate though) is another way they, in theory, could make a good team.
But the team up would work just like audio and video unfortunately, video is not the most important part, but it’s the part that gets the most credit. while audio emphasis and supports video, it’s part goes unnoticed until it’s not there. And Alastor’s ego has an ass so fat it’s aw inspiring that he can fit it through the door, so that may have been ONE of the reasons he said no to joining Vox (not saying it’s the only reason or even main one)
Vox may even see the potential for exactly what their partnership could be and it’s a reason why he took it so personally when Alastor shot him down
And it’s just so interesting that Vox and Alastor act like forces that should be pitted against each other but their capabilities show that they would go together like peanut butter and chocolate (in theory)
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samandcolbyownme · 7 months
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Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."
Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.
I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!
Word count: 8.1K
"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."
You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."
"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."
"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."
You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."
"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."
"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."
A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.
"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."
You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."
"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."
"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.
Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."
You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"
Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."
"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."
Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."
"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"
"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."
"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."
"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."
"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"
"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."
"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"
"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."
"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"
"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"
"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."
He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."
Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.
"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."
"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."
Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.
"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."
Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"
"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"
Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."
There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"
Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."
"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."
"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"
"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."
"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."
"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"
She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."
"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."
"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"
You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."
"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"
Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."
Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"
You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."
"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"
"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."
Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."
The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"
It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."
A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."
Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."
The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"
Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.
You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"
"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"
The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.
"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."
Instantly turns on.
"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"
Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."
"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."
You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.
You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.
He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."
"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."
"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."
Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.
"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"
They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."
"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"
You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."
"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."
"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."
Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"
You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."
Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"
You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."
He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.
"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."
"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."
"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."
"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."
As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.
"Come over here."
You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"
Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."
You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."
Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."
"So if you didn't sa-"
The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.
"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.
"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.
"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"
It lights up red.
"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"
Lights up red.
"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.
"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"
Instant green.
"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."
"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."
The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."
"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."
The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"
It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.
"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."
You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.
"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."
You lean back into him, "There's something over there."
"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."
"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."
"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.
"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."
"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."
As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"
You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."
Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"
"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."
"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"
You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."
"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."
"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."
"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."
"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."
"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."
"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."
You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."
"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.
"What's going on? You guys okay?"
"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."
Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."
"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"
Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."
"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.
Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."
You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."
You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.
And you didn't know why.
"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."
You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"
Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.
"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."
Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"
You shake your head, "We've been over here."
"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.
"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."
"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."
"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."
Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.
"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."
He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."
You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."
You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."
Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."
Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"
You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."
Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"
"... I want ... to know.."
"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"
"... Miss.. it ..."
"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"
" ... alive ..."
"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"
"... the... truth .. in here .."
"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"
"... must get ... out..."
"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"
"... he's in.. here .."
"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"
" ... John .. murder .."
"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"
"... liar .. he lies ..."
"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"
"... tried to run.."
"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."
"... John .. is mad..."
"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."
You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"
"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."
Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.
"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,
"... they needed to die ..."
"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."
"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"
"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."
You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."
"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."
"... no .."
Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."
You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"
No answer.
"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.
"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"
"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"
You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.
You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.
"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.
"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"
"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"
His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"
You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."
"Colby?!"
"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.
"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.
"If we just left when I said.."
You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."
"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.
"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"
"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."
"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.
"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."
He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."
"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."
"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."
"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."
"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."
"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."
"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.
Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."
You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."
"We're leaving."
As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.
"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."
"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.
They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."
You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"
You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.
"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."
"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"
You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."
And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.
"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."
He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.
"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."
"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."
"Why don't we -"
"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.
He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.
"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."
He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."
You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.
"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"
"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.
"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.
You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.
Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."
You try not to smile, "I love you."
Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.
"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."
You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."
You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."
"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.
As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."
"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."
You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."
He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.
Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."
You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"
Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."
Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."
Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."
Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."
You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"
"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"
You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."
"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.
"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."
You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?
Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"
You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."
You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."
"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."
"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."
"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."
"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."
Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."
Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."
You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.
Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.
You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.
You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.
He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."
He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.
"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.
"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."
He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."
He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."
You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."
"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."
You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."
He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."
He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.
You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."
You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"
"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."
Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."
You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."
"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."
"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.
He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."
You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.
"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."
You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."
Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.
"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."
He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."
"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.
"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."
You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"
You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"
"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated!
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wolfiesmoon · 4 months
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Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.
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Like this.
Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д`|||)
I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point
i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ^皿^)っ
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia
He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie
This doesn't feel right🫤
But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)
When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠
He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."
"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that
without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place
"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier
you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar
basically, it is NOT happening
"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room
like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie
"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕
"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his
"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒
"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...
"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭
this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins
moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud
"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms
"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him
being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to
...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock
after a short while of very awkward silence...
he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash
you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead
"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒
"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back
He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit
this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠
love transcends disagreements, after all
does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒
he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."
your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢
he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying
You don't reply for a moment...
"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."
"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back
it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌
𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge
He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like
He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔
he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...
"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously
"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back
"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at
"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout
"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻
"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨
"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy
"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗
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