#//I know I complain a lot which is why I'm particularly sensitive to this.

[whorefortheevans]

Pre-Death! Tate Langdon Headcanons

I'm starting to get back into a Tate phase so I thought I'd make a list of some headcanons I have for him if you dated him before he died/before he went crazy.

CW: mentions mommy kink, slightly nsfw (mentions of breasts), not proofread and all lowercase

so if i remember correctly, tate was like...not unpopular but also not popular when he was in high school

i'd imagine you would know of him, just not know him that well. but he knows you because you have math class together and instead of paying attention he just spends the class staring at you.

he's pretty quiet so he never talked to you but one day the class had to work in pairs and he asked if you two wanted to work together

you said yes because why not and he's so cute

ever since then you both spent a lot of time together and eventually started dating

we all know tate is sensitive

so because of his sensitivity he can be super emotional but he's also really empathetic

whenever you're upset, so is he

he knows you like the back of his hand, so good luck trying to hide anything from him

he'll spend hours just getting you to open up to him and talk to him but he wouldn't want to be anywhere else

you're def his number one priority

and you also become his comfort person

he's super clingy and afraid of losing you

he also confides in you about his home problems

he particularly complains about constance which usually ends with him crying

but it's okay because we love a man who's in touch with his emotions

he has a mommy kink, don't lie to yourself

he has a particular obsession with your breasts

they're just so inviting, he cant help it

loves sucking on your tits because he says it comforts him

you say 'i love you' first and he cries afterwards because it's been so long since someone told him that

part 2?

[furiousgoldfish]

Hello, so I checked the checklist thing and I realized that the things I experienced aren’t normal but I also don’t think my parents do this intentionally. I think that this is just the only way they know how to do things, like they just don’t know anything else. Neither of them had particularly good parents so I just don’t think they realize that some of the things they do aren’t good. They try their best to be supportive and stuff but they do control some of my things and hit me when I do bad things, I’m a minor btw. I think that since they grew up with that they think it’s normal.

Yeah I get what you're saying! I felt these exact same things as a minor, and could see very well that from the perspective of my parents, they are doing what they think is correct, and it's how they've been taught, and of course there's no way for them to know they're doing damage or neglecting you because this is all they know.

However, from an adult standpoint, I know that parents are responsible for taking care of their children, and that neglect, ignoring issues, or particularly hateful and cruel behaviour is very obviously, not a mistake or just parents 'not knowing how to do any better'. They know how to treat other adults as human beings. They know to be polite and sensitive with their boss, with people they're trying to impress. They know to be kind to their guests and relatives they want to be in good graces of. They know how to take care of themselves and give themselves the attention and care they want, and even get other people to do it.

While it's impossible for children to know better than they've been taught, adults absolutely know better, and you know, even if nobody ever taught them directly, they could have, picked up a book on parenting! They could have shown interest in gentle parenting or looked it up, they could have researched all possible illnesses and signs of trauma and distress on their child - btw I did all of those things, even not planning to have children, I read those books, I researched those things, just for a mere chance that one day I end up caring for a child. It's not out of this world to expect parents to give a shit about learning how to parent! To just repeat whatever their parents did to them (which they often complain was so tough and cruel and hard on them) is an excuse to be willfully neglectful, willfully abusive.

When you're a kid, you're convinced that you're doing a perfect job of hiding just how alone, sad, scared, upset and traumatized you are, but to an adult it's pretty obvious, you're not really capable of hiding it that well. And it begs the question - why do kids even hide it, why do they conceal their fear and pain? The answer is, because they've been trained to, because they've been punished for expressing that same pain in the past, because they've been humiliated, hurt, ignored or attacked for it. So the mere fact that you are concealing how their parenting is affecting you, proves that they did something to compel you to hide, to not bother them with your needs and fears anymore, they don't want to be responsible for taking care of it, for being your parents.

I know I made a lot of assumptions here, and I'm sorry if this is all completely out of the mark! It's just that I could have written this ask myself as a minor, and I thought these exact things, and then later on it turned out I've been groomed to think like this, and to not see abuse or recognize it at any cost. If it feels dangerous or wrong to acknowledge the abuse, or to hold your parents accountable for it, you can just ignore this for now, and not think about it. It is sometimes, dangerous for minors to be aware, or to try to call it out, and if that's your case, I support you to just survive the best you can, believing in whatever brings you the most comfort. Because this is not your responsibility to fix, this is not your fault, this is not shameful for you, or a sign that something is wrong with you, you are fine, you're doing exactly what you're supposed to, you're surviving. Keep holding on.

[oncetherenowhere]

This intensive therapy I'm in is having odd effects on me. It's helping me, but not in the way it intends to. I keep finding myself 'snapping out of' my usual bad thought patterns, but it's because...how do I explain this?

I realized that every therapist I've ever had BEGS me to realize that the outside world isn't as bad as it seems. No one is judging you! is said a lot. When that isn't true, and I've tried to explain the microaggressions I face as an autistic person, they kept insisting that it was my perception.

The thing is...I can TELL when something is my perception. I'm very self aware of what is reality, and what is my own sensitivities. Being made not to trust myself has caused me a lot more harm than good, especially in the past year.

I've realized what I actually really, really need- someone who can help me move on! By that I mean, I want to not CARE that people are judging me. I want to love myself enough to not need validation to feel safe and comfortable. But I can't do that if everyone insists that no one is actually ever bad to me!

Like, man, people can suck. People can also be great! But people can suck. I've been treated with extremely cruelty, even by strangers.

I just don't want to care anymore. Because the problem isn't me, isn't it? Despite blaming myself my entire life, so often, I am literally just EXISTING when someone has a problem with me.

I want to not care! I want to get my personality back! I want to be quirky and weird again! I want to wear fun things, and try out every hobby, and go on miles long walks. I want to be myself, because when I WAS myself for that brief, brief time around 18, I loved myself- and I loved everyone else so much, too.

But I don't know how.

I don't know what the first step is. I genuinely don't think the first step is telling myself 'no one is judging me!' because then I'm STILL focusing on what OTHER people are thinking! Who cares if they're judging me! That's what I want to get to.

AUGH.

The combo of autism and PTSD is hard. Everyone assumes I can't think for myself. It's why I rarely tell anyone about either diagnosis. Obviously, in therapy, you have to, that's kind of the point....man!

I just!

Need to find a therapist who can help me with this specific thing, because I don't think I can do this alone. But that means finding a therapist who will actually believe me...which is hard.

I know I've been particularly unlucky in my search...and complaining about therapists makes me worry that I seem like someone who thinks mental health treatment is a sham. I don't! I just don't think the constant CBT stuff works for me very well, and it keeps getting applied to me.

Ugh. The other thing is, I've found therapists near me that really fit the bill, and that are queer friendly to boot- but these ones seem to be more specialized, and usually don't take insurance. It ranges from 200-400 a session, which is wildly unaffordable to me.

Sighs....

But! Knowing what I need to work on has given me some resolve.

[fatebreaking-a]

Vent channels are frustrating, an outline. I shouldn’t have to say this, but don’t reblog. Somewhat hypocritically, a vent.

1. You can’t moderate them. If you tell someone to not vent about something, they’ll feel silenced and bad. You have to rely on everyone to be personally responsible and careful with what they vent about ( impossible ).

2. It’s not a place for debate or discussion, because venting is largely soured from someone’s frustrations and emotions - they’re upset which is why they’re venting. And everyone knows better than to respond to a plea of emotion with logic - that’s not the point of a vent channel. It’s the same as telling someone who got into a car crash about statistics related to crashes to get them over their fear. That’s not how it works.

3. It breeds negativity and anxiety. Vent channels exist to ‘let off steam’ or ‘to get help’, and it’s usually both. So if you don’t look and someone needs help, it’s trouble. And if someone’s letting off steam, it’s a downer. Furthermore, they’re not transient - they’re always in the same place.

4. Because of (2), it can lead to scenarios where people say stuff that’s just wrong, but it’s not for debate. And it brings up ‘is silence the same complicit agreement’. Because it’s an emotional argument, and it’s often at the expense of someone else. “No offense but [the thing you like is bad]”. Sure. I’m not offended. I know it’s not a personal attack. I still feel bad. Telling me not to take it personally doesn’t mean I enjoy watching things I like be deconstructed as ‘bad things.’

5. Unlike venting privately, much of what’s been mentioned here is because vent channels are public.

None of these reasons are against the vision that “people need an outlet for their stress and worries”, but the same things that cause people to vent are propagated by vent channels. It just becomes a license to recklessly say what you like, protected under ‘well I’m just venting’.

But what you say is permanently recorded. It’s visible to anyone who comes by after. And sometimes, it leads to people quietly biting their tongue and attempting to stifle their frustration, because ‘vent channels’ often overlap with ‘vagueing’. You wouldn’t talk trash about Sona to my face, but doing it in vent is fine, as if I am not going to read all your complaints. And it’s the same for any other champion.

It’s also typical for people to vent about the same thing again and again. Every two weeks or month, it’s the same topic. And if it’s about a person? “It’s okay, they’re not in the server” is something I’ve heard. What about the people who get along with that person? 

A policy of avoiding responsibility for your words and the effect they have on others isn’t a great one.

There’s a stark difference between “my job sucks and my mum is a titanic jerk” and “the content that you like shouldn’t exist”. Does that sound completely ridiculous and something people wouldn’t say? How about “Yasuo shouldn’t have gotten two skins in a year”? “This ship doesn’t make sense and I hate it”? 

I’ve been using discord for RP servers for years now, and it’s always the same stupid pattern. And it’s the same thing that makes me leave. Not the vent channel.

That’s not the problem.

The problem is people who are wholly irresponsible with their words and what they decide to vent about, and the channel and community that enables that.

The problem is people who recklessly speak purely from their emotions and expect that no one else’s emotions will be moved and no one will be affected.

And that all it takes is one person to ruin what is meant to be a place for people to destress. 

Vent channels are abused. And that’s what’s frustrating about them. It’s carte blanche to be not so conscientious with what you say, which is something people already do.

Own what you say. If you wouldn’t say it on your blog, what makes you think it’s fine to say it in a vent channel? Because you’re among friends? Not everyone is super close to you. And I’ve seen one too many times that policies about venting are selectively enforced. Which brings us back to 1. If you have an unpopular opinion, good luck. If you disagree with someone’s attitude, good luck.

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

Afterward & Disclaimers: 

“But aren’t you making an appeal of emotion right now”? Yeah, little bit. But I own what I say here. And this is a transient post. It will get deleted. And it will disappear on the dash, because as posts pile up, this will not get scrolled to.

“But ‘X’ ship really is wrong! You shouldn’t generalize.” And you shouldn’t construct examples that exist only to be knocked down. I obviously don’t approve of any underage ships. And yeah, that one Riven ‘ship’ is weird as fuck. But you don’t see me yelling publicly that I hate certain Sona ships, even though I totally do.

“But freedom of speech.” Your words have consequences. Fuck around too long and people will stop listening to you or hanging around you.

“But sometimes people need to get their frustrations out.” Is the emotional value of someone destressing more important than the stress it gives someone else? Can you really make that judgement?

“But people are wrong and I need to say it. They keep saying so many things that are wrong. XYZ is bad. They need to know.” No they don’t and no you don’t. Not everyone enjoys things for the same reasons as you. People who are ‘casual’ with their knowledge shouldn’t be degraded. Don’t be surprised if always tearing things down ( and god the community loves to tear things down ) causes alienation. Just because I like something doesn’t mean I’m giving Riot a pass and not holding them up to some standard. I just want to enjoy the thing. And I ( personally ) am willing to own what I say and the claims I make. Many people aren’t. Therefore, the problem. S’not like I could say “I hate Sylas” in a vent channel, and yet “Demacia’s boring as fuck” is totally allowed, ay?

And by the way, all this could mostly be avoided if you just talk to your friends and vent privately. Needless to say, a server of 30 people is not privately, even if the server itself is a private one.

In summary: Carte blanche to not watch what you say causes trouble. The selfsame means to allow people to destress is a source of that stress, and the tolerance for intolerant negativity is not great.

Disclaimer: This is based on my experience over the years. If you’ve had a really good experience with vent channels ( perhaps because you have a very different personality type or take than I do, or the far less likely option that you are a magical unicorn, or somehow people’s stresses just don’t stress you out and it all washes off or who knows what ), that’s great. Really. But that isn’t everyone’s experience and it certainly isn’t mine. And a tendency to be ‘generically rude’ isn’t one I agree with. Especially promoting it, in its various contexts ( one of which is the vent channel ).

The end.

[y0imyas]

[ arlecchino | tartaglia / childe ; sweetheart ]

warnings : fembodied!reader (referred to as sweetheart, my girl, girlfriend . . . ; she/her pronouns used) ; no protection mentioned (coming inside) ; threesome ; oral (fem receiving ; reader & arlecchino) ; arlecchino kinda leads the whole thing lol and is referred to as she / her to avoid confusion ; think that's all

a/n: repost because tags didnt work ; my brain was only filled with childe and arlecchino oh my god i'm so weak for them ; this is probably the first and last time i'm ever writing anything involving a dom!woman lol

“oh, don’t you look pretty like this, you two”, the soft giggle from across the room made you push childe away and sit up quickly with the blanket as a cover while you looked straight into arlecchino’s eyes. did she just catch you getting eaten out by your boyfriend?

childe rolled his eyes as he saw his fellow harbinger colleague standing at the doorstep and quickly grabbed his shirt from the ground to hand it to you. you quickly put it on, your face burning up in embarrassment and you quickly looked down. “oh, sweetheart, no need to be so shy”, arlecchino slowly came closer to you. “you indeed looked very pretty.” she softly placed her hand on your cheek, softly caressing.

“what do you want?”, childe groaned in annoyance as he wiped the remnants of your slick on his lips away and laid down on the bed. “we were obviously busy, arlecchino.”

“now, now, is this an appropriate way to talk to me? don’t forget where you stand, tartaglia”, arlecchino’s tone got a lot colder as she moved her attention to her fellow harbinger. but when she looked back at you, her gaze was a lot softer. it was as if she had a soft spot for you – whatever it is, she was handling you like porcelain. “may i?”

arlecchino tugged at the blanket and pulled it off your body once you nodded, slightly hesitating. there was something about the look in her dark eyes that made your body shiver. “there’s absolutely no need to be nervous, darling. it’s just me, you know me”, arlecchino tried to make you feel a little less tense about the entire situation.

“hey, now, this isn’t fair!”, childe complained. “you can’t just barge in here, interrupt my time with my girlfriend and take over my place.” arlecchino rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“i can if she wants to”, arlecchino said and grinned as she slowly took off the shirt that childe had given to you moments ago. “it’s all about her, after all, isn’t it?” she was quick to hover over your body and start peppering soft kisses over your neck, collarbone, chest. she pinched your one nipple while softly sucking and biting the other one, having you writhe because of the ministration.

childe couldn’t help himself but closely pay attention to how you reacted, his sweet girl receiving pleasure from his fellow colleague. he had no idea why, but there was this sudden need to leave sweet little marks on your neck, just that he would be able to show off that you belonged to him – despite arlecchino being the one leaving wet kisses over your stomach and finally reaching your already sensitive clit.

you let out one particularly loud moan when arlecchino started sucking and giving you little kitten licks as her one finger continued circling your clit, having you grip childe’s hand tightly. your body started shaking as the climax you were about to reach when your boyfriend was eating you out slowly built up again and it didn’t take much longer for you to come on arlecchino’s tongue as she smirked to your body twitching like crazy.

“how was that, sweetheart?”, arlecchino asked as she sat up once again. “don’t you think you should return the favor?”

as if in trance, you let go of childe’s hand and turned your focus to arlecchino laying right next to you, already naked, in the huge bed that your boyfriend only got because “he needed his space while fucking you” (which he said like he was telling a joke, but was totally serious about it when the bed finally arrived in your shared apartment).

“cut the foreplay, i’m not really in the mood for it”, arlecchino said. “why don’t you fuck her, tartaglia? ‘think she’d like that.” childe’s eyes widened at the suggestion. why didn’t he think of that? it didn’t take long until he was behind you, his hips moving in a rather quick pace as you tried to focus on arlecchino having her legs spread for you to eat her out – which wasn’t as easy as you had hoped for.

having your boyfriend overstimulating you with his hard and fast thrusts wasn’t very helpful – you were feeling too good to focus, which obviously wasn’t very much to arlecchino’s liking. “now, sweetheart, i thought i told you what to do. do i really have to punish you for not listening?”

childe let out a groan as your walls tightened around him when arlecchino said these words. who knew that you would get so weak by having arlecchino command you around? maybe he should ask her to join again in the future… or just watch you get your mind blown away by her.

“n-no”, you stammered, still not able to form any sort of coherent sentence. “i’m sorry, please, i just–”

you couldn’t continue when childe made you cry out in pleasure with some quick thrusts, his grip on your hips were so tight that you knew there would be bruises tomorrow.

“you just what, sweetheart? aren’t you cute getting fucked by your boyfriend”, she kept on mumbling soft praises into your ear, until you finally came around childe’s cock once again. that pushed him over the edge, having him come deep inside you and letting out a groan while he continued with a few slow thrusts to come down from his high.

when he pulled out, he watched his cum drip out of your hole and before there was a big mess on the sheets, he collected some of the cum and slowly pushed his fingers into your hole. “please, give me a break”, you cried out, there were tears on your cheeks that arlecchino softly brushed away with her fingers.

“but you look so pretty like this, sweetheart. let us have some more fun with you, will you?”

[stillness-in-green]

How are you still sticking to the story? I thought you’d be offended by how little the writing cares about grey matters beyond the surface.

This one’s pretty simple, anon, so apologies in advance if I sound preachy, but: it’s the characters. Of course it's the characters.

I know I talk a lot—in length if not in frequency—about the systemic issues of the series; this is because I enjoy worldbuilding minutiae. However, I don’t read stories for worldbuilding minutiae; I read stories for characters. I love Shigaraki and the rest of the League. I love Re-Destro and the MLA. I’m very fond of Gentle Criminal and La Brava and Nemoto and Monoma and Tokoyami and a whole host of others. And even if I don’t love a character, I can still find some interest in them and what they bring to the story—a lot of the heroes and kids fall into this category.

That being the case, if it feels like a story is just writing off characters I like, or not engaging with their issues the way I thought it was going to, sure, that can be frustrating. But there are plenty of stories out there that I’ve been perfectly happy to just pick a few favorites from and then read their chapters and shrug off the rest, especially where long-running shonen is concerned. I’ve been active in fandom for over twenty years now; I know I’m not always going to get everything I want out of a work, and that’s fine. That’s what AUs and fix-it fics are for, and people to talk about a series with. If we never see Re-Destro in this story again, sure, I’ll be disappointed, and I’ll complain, but ultimately, I really only care about the body of the canon as it exists to provide me interesting characters.

I’ve got dealbreakers in how a story handles certain plots, sure; everyone does. But also, those dealbreakers look different when I'm 350 chapters into a story than when I'm three chapters in. Also, I don’t actually require a work to perfectly handle every issue it raises for me to enjoy it. Again, I’m more than willing to bitch at length when I think a story is failing to handle the topics it itself raises with appropriate gravity, but the fact is that My Hero Academia being willing to raise and engage with those issues at all already puts it ahead of a lot of its peers, and particularly its predecessors.

This is going to be very subjective based on one’s cultural lens, but I think it’s worth keeping in mind that My Hero? It’s actually got its share of detractors in Japan among people who think it’s too sympathetic towards its villains; it’s too influenced by Western tropes. There are people in the U.S. who’re all too happy to call the series copaganda, or Horikoshi an abuse apologist, but they don’t see e.g. the President of the game company that makes all the Naruto Shippuden games posting on his public Twitter about how he thought My Villain Academia was in poor taste and villain growth arcs in a Shonen Jump manga should be taboo; they don’t see the Japanese fan talking about her hopes for the end of the series riding on her perception of Horikoshi as being relatively progressive and sensitive.

Ultimately, HeroAca is running in a magazine aimed at teenage boys, one which has strict and unforgiving guidelines on how to write a series. For me, that has meant that there’s been the palpable feeling of an impending trainwreck hanging over it ever since I started reading it. I always wondered just how far the series could go with the seeds it was planting about its sympathetic villains and its flawed society, because I always anticipated a point at which Horikoshi’s editors would put their collective foot down and say, “No more; this is getting too radical.” And that would not be Horikoshi’s fault.

I recently read a translation of some comments by Yoshiro Togashi, author of Yu Yu Hakusho and Hunter X Hunter, about why he ended YYH the way he did—an ending that was famously abrupt, inconclusive, and involved the main character losing in the series’ final tournament arc. He talked about burnout, about the pressure to make every arc bigger and better and splashier than the one before. Most strikingly, he talked about reaching a point in the story in which he felt that he had run out of material. He realized that the only thing he could think to do with those characters anymore was either keep telling the same story over and over again—which he didn’t want to do—or deconstruct them—which the powers-that-be at Shonen Jump specifically refused to let him do. So he chose to end it instead.

Every work that runs in Shonen Jump is fundamentally compromised by dint of running in Shonen Jump. Especially the popular ones.

In that light, yeah, sure, I’m frustrated with the way the series handles some things. But I don’t know the reasons behind those shortcomings; we may never know. Still, I can look at a series that at least had the audacity to raise the issues BNHA has and be glad that it did—and that it did so while giving me so many characters I truly love.

If I have to disavow everything post-Deika—or post-War, or post-climax, or, hell, even post-USJ—if I have to run off into the sunset with these characters at the end because I hate everything the series does with them? Well, I guess that’s just how it’ll have to be. At least I’ll have the warmth of knowing that there is nothing Horikoshi or his Shonen Jump overlords can do to stop me.

[mermaidsirennikita]

How come the Bridgerton fandom clearly posts pictures of Simone out enjoying a holiday with friends not at all bothered by all this promo discourse, and still whine abt how Simone is clearly being sidelined. she is literally out there enjoying her life. Stop acting like your fighting for some righteous cause when really you just want to see Kate/Anthony. Especially when everyone in fandom is so quiet when it comes to things like the india plot line & actual racist implications of some of the shows plot lines.

I bet when the show comes out no one will want to discuss that as it is just ‘escapism’ and they don’t want to hv kathony ruined for them.

I will say this--Simone can be enjoying her life and be sidelined by Netflix. She clearly doesn't have work commitments going on preventing her from promoting like JB does, so I do think she should be called up even for little fluff interviews more (a lot of print interviews would be done further in advance of course, but zoom interviews are another thing--but even those would've had to have been booked in advance, idk). But I do think it would be demeaning to suggest that she's sitting by the phone waiting for a call, because she clearly isn't. That's what I like about Simone; she seems like a gregarious, fun person. With that being said! I'd like to see more of her. I do think the promo should have more focus on her, if it's going to be focused on anyone.

But yeah, absolutely people are dismissing the shit the show is *actually* doing in favor of talking about promo, which is where I started to side-eye shit. When I started seeing the same people calling out the promo go "I don't think the India plot is a big deal/this season will be flawless regardless" I was like... eeeeeeeeeh. Much of why I myself am more sensitive to the promo issues, personally, is because I though the show exhibited some truly spectacular bullshit re: race in season 1. With the backstory, with Marina... It went on and out, and the India plot has me quite worried. All of this reminds me of how many (white) viewers basically dismissed the concerns about s1 the last go around, because like... RJP is there. Ruby is there. People of color are in Regency clothing. Why aren't they happy??? Like, that was the vibe. And it was bad.

Just because you love Kate and Anthony doesn't mean that you can't reckon with the bullshit that is.... having the India plot be there at all, at least in the form that it seems to be. You can worry about Simone being sidelined and critique the show for its very real issues. Both are possible. Simone being on this show doesn't mean that it gets a pass for the bullshit it plays with (not just in the plot, but in the lack of diversity in the writer's room) just as s1 didn't deserve a pass because RJP was there.

To me, the promo is bad and I don't like it... Though shit, it seems weird to me to complain about Simone being sidelined, then say that Golda, a woman of color, shouldn't have done a Tatler cover. Even if Golda had said "oh no, call Simone Ashley", they probably wouldn't have called Simone Ashley. And I don't think there's much.... good to be done in tearing down one woman of color in favor of another. Idk, there's just more nuance that needs to be had in these discussions. I'm not saying "don't critique promo". I'm saying that if you are white, consider the language with which you are critiquing the promo, know your role, stay in your lane. And if someone is a person of color, -particularly if they are Indian, and they say "yeah, but I'm actually really worried about this India plot"... Don't dismiss it. Personally, I think I probably stepped out of my lane a bit with how I discussed things at points, and I do regret that and apologize if I made anyone feel spoken over. I don't like the promo, and I don't like Penelope, but those are hardly the only issues at hand here. I mean, they clearly have Simone putting on an accent in one clip, and that was... kinda not discussed much? And hopefully it's not a huge issue and hopefully it's handled sensitively, but idk. Just weird to me that the *one* issue (which has more to do with the ship in general) is being discussed most while the other issues (which pertain to the show at large and its handling of race) are being less discussed.

The thing is that the show should be escapism.... for everyone. But it can't be escapism for many people of color if they're watching it and having their cultural history turned into a fun plot point, ya know?

[bugsbunnybisexual]

Only fools fall for you, only fools.

Only fools do what I do, only fools fall.

Random Baffy thoughts

Hi motherfuckers,

I have no idea what's gotten over me today but I cannot, for the life of me, stop thinking about Baffy. So much so that I made this blog on a valuable Friday that I should be using for productivity. Holy shit.

Keep reading if you wanna hear my spiels.

First, some easy-to-digest headcanons:

Bugs is 26, Daffy is 28

Bugs is bisexual biromantic, Daffy is demisexual biromantic

Bugs is Egogender, Daffy is Nonbinary and will describe his gender as "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Bugs Black, Daffy Black-Desi, specifically Bangladeshi

Daffy knows some broken-ass Bengali

Fools by Troye Sivan is a song that Bugs will sometime listen to and contemplate his romantic choices. LMAO but he will never tell Daffy that-

Bugs listens to a lot of Hip-Hop and old-school Rock. Daffy likes classic music because he thinks it makes him smarter. And older Desi music, like old movie ballads

Bugs has OCD. He's experienced depression before but it doesn't really flare up anymore

Daffy has OCD too. Don't @ me, all my faves get OCD okay? Along with that he has generalized anxiety disorder

Bugs likes reading about History & Physics

I like to think they have a sun/moon thing going on with Bugs being the sun and Daffy being the moon. All my ships have this dynamic, I know.

IDK there's more I can't remember right now...

Bugs' Flags:

Daffy's Flags:

Now, my basic idea for them...

If you notice in TLTS, Bugs doesn't HAVE to let Daffy stay with him, but he does. Though Daffy is basically a freeloader, Bugs never complains. To me, I definitely see this as Bugs being interested in Daffy in a more intimate way than one might think. Bugs has the ability to be roommates/housemates with other people who may have a job or whatever but Bugs doesn't particularly care. Moreover, Bugs is shown to be annoyed of others easily while being very patient with Daffy. You see what I'm talking about?

Meanwhile on the other side, yeah I know TLTS is comedy and everything - but - if we suspend the comedy for a second, I would like to imagine that Daffy actually has issues. Now, this has been supported by official/canon media before. Particularly in Back in Action. Daffy is shown in that show acknowledging that he feels people like Bugs a lot, but don't like him.

So, if we suspend the comedy for just a second, and talk about Daffy's issue, for some goddamn reason I LOVE and absolutely LOVE the idea that Daffy has difficulty understanding why Bugs loves him. And he questions it a lot. And gets upset over it. And Bugs can't really explain it, either, other than just saying "I like you for who you are. You may be a pain in the ass sometimes but that doesn't change the fact that I enjoy your company, I enjoy you."

I also like to imagine that their relationship is nowhere near perfect, sort of similarly to TLTS's approach to Bugs & Lola, where they are somewhat aware of the fact that they're a couple but continue to have miscommunications & difficulty. Except with Bugs & Daffy it's a lot louder, with a lot more accusations, but they make up in the end, because they have a mutual understanding that isn't obvious at first sight, but the more you see them interact, the more you realize they understand each other a lot better than it seems on the outside.

And then comes the lovey-dovey stuff.

Oh the lovey-dovey stuff.

I'll be putting them under a read more, it gets intimate.

So, Bugs is clever. He doesn't really exercise his flirting skills with Lola in TLTS, partially because Lola is more interested in him than he is in her. But in the classic Looney Tunes you can see how good he is with flirting with people of all genders and how easily he catches people off-guard with witty flirting. So, I'd like to imagine that doesn't change with TLTS Bugs, either. He just uses this type of flirting on very specific people. And Daffy is definitely, definitely one of them.

Daffy has a big but fragile ego. It's easy to trip him up with the right words & actions. And as I said, Bugs is smart, he knows Daffy very well. He knows exactly what to say to get to Daffy, and he loves using this as an advantage, especially when there's a fight between them.

There is a LOT of Bugs just using Daffy's words right back at him in a flirty way. Lots of shutting Daffy up with a kiss, lots of intimidating leans from Bugs, and a lot of flustered Daffy who doesn't actually know what to do with real affection and love because he barely knows what that is.

Daffy stuttering, having difficulty making eye-contact, being unable to believe what's happening, blushing, and just falling deeper in love every time Bugs flirts with him. And don't get me wrong, Daffy LOVES it, but he doesn't know how to react or just...how to compute. He short-circuits.

And Bugs enjoys that a lot. He loves seeing Daffy all flustered, confused, seeing his ego disappear and only his vulnerable and emotional self being visible, seeing Daffy being unable to stand on his feet flippers because of how nervous he is, refusing to look Bugs in the eyes until Bugs connects their foreheads...it gets Bugs just as flustered as Daffy is. He's just a lot better at controlling his emotions and not wearing his heart on his sleeves during intimate moments.

CW // Suggestive or NSFW

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And of course, this dynamic continues onto bed, as well. Bugs loves showring Daffy with compliments as they fuck, only for Daffy to be completely flustered and unable to compose himself throughout the whole thing. Sometimes, if Daffy has the energy, he will grab Bugs, kiss him and tell him to shut the hell up. Which will usually lead to Bugs giggling and throwing a "fine, sure, we'll play it your way" and finally letting Daffy take the occasional lead.

Their physical intimacy will involve nibbling and hickeys from Bugs' side, tiny little bites hidden all over Daffy's body under his fur. And Bugs thinks Daffy gives the best head. Daffy's beak is sensitive and squishy, and easy to tickle.

NSFW over //

Some random intimate stuff:

Daffy really likes PDA but has difficulty expressing that he'd like to do things like holding hands in public. Luckily, Bugs understands and makes his moves bravely.

As they get older, Daffy humbles up and gets a lot better with his emotions and starts being a helpful househusband - cooking, cleaning, helping with chores and just making their home a nice environment. Bugs really appreciates this. Daffy understands later that he just doesn't like the corporate world, which is why he never liked working jobs.

The wedding is huge because Daffy wants it huge and Bugs actually exercises his popularity and riches for their wedding day. Daffy is genuinely so happy that Bugs feels greatly satisfied about his decisions by the end of the wedding. Also Bugs wears that one tux with a skirt wedding outfit. You know the one. Daffy can't decide between a tux and a wedding dress and flips a coin which lands on wedding dress, LMAO. It's his mom's old dress. Yes it is a Sari, if you thought it was a western wedding gown then the L is on you.

They play a lot of Troye Sivan, BTS, Pink Sweat$ & Kehlani on their wedding. Why? Because I said so, that's why.

...and that's about it!

Yeesh!

GO WATCH THE LOONEYTUNES SHOW. IT'S GAY, I PROMISE YOU.

[queergodot]

Finished the Engarde case for the first time, and I REALLY loved it, it's probably my favourite case so far, but I did have two pretty big issues with it and because I'm an insufferable nerd I will now proceed to complain about them.

1. The treatment of suicide and mental health issues was less than stellar. I accept using suicide as a plotpoint, though I do think that it can get quite tasteless quite quickly, but the way it was handled in this case wasn't just tasteless, but potentially harmful. I'm mainly referring to Edgeworth using a suicide attempt/mental health issues as blackmail to get a witness to talk on the stand. That, in and of itself, would've been fine if it had been framed as a bad thing to do, but it wasn't. Throughout the Engarde case, Edgeworth was consistently framed as having gotten his life together, and having become a better person. In addition, Adrien states later that Edgeworth forcing her to talk in this way lead to her finally feeling okay with herself, once she was alone in the detention center. I get that they did this to create parallels between her and Edgeworth/Franziska, but it shows a fundamental lack of knowledge of mental health issues and suicide. Suicidal ideation and mental health issues will not improve by having some guy throw them in your face and then being arrested and left alone in a cell. In fact, this is not unlikely to trigger a new suicide attempt. This portrayal of suicide is potentially harmful, as it promotes false ideas on how to heal from suicidal ideation and mental health issues, and it's possible for people to get the wrong idea on how to treat themselves/their loved ones who are in similar situations. Adrien's ""illness"" sounds a lot like Dependent Personality Disorder, and I may not know a lot about DPD, but this is extremely not the way to treat that. Of course, Ace Attorney is not a PSA about mental health, but I believe all media has a responsibility to be careful in portraying sensitive subjects like this.

2. I really don't think trying to get Phoenix to learn about the 'true' duty of a defense attorney like. Worked for this case? First of all, I really don't think Phoenix was ever particularly likely to blindly try to get his clients off. He has always followed the evidence, but trusted his clients not to lie to him about their innocence. Which has been repeatedly stated to be the 'correct' approach; a lack of trust in his client was why Robert Hammond was such a bad defense attorney; Mia, who is in no small part treated as the series' moral compass, repeatedly insists on the need to trust your clients; and trust in others and the value of it has been a repeated and obvious motif in the series thusfar that even played a significant role in this same case. And trusting a client and believing them to be innocent was not the issue in this case; the issue was that Maya was held hostage?? Like even though Phoenix did believe Engarde to be innocent at first, it was not unsubstantiated, and even if he HAD thought he was guilty, he would've still been forced to defend him.

Like idk I don't understand why they insisted Phoenix had to learn what it meant to be a defsense attorney and that you have to follow the truth even if it means getting your client proclaimed guilty when that had never been an issue before? Phoenix has never shown to be willing to get guilty people off for crimes they definitely did do. Even in this case, once he found out Engarde was guilty, he DESPERATELY wanted to get him declared guilty. The only reason why he didn't was because Maya was being held hostage.

It's not that I think a storyline like this couldn't have been done; in fact, I think it would be quite interesting. But if we presume Phoenix has an issue that could cause him to misunderstand what being a defense attorney means and get his clients off no matter what, it should be addressed in a plotline where this becomes a problem due to Phoenix's own flaws. Because in this plotline, it simply makes no sense to accuse Phoenix of trying to get his clients off no matter what when he a) is literally not doing that and b) is only even so much as thinking about doing that because a loved one is being held hostage. Like!! That's an extenuating circumstance that was in no way his fault!! No fair court of law would hold him accountable for that!!!

Again, I DO think this (the idea that Phoenix will get his clients off no matter what) is an interesting flaw for Phoenix, but in this case, that behaviour was caused by wanting to save Maya's life, which is an external circumstance, not a personal flaw. He cannot learn to work on not getting his loved ones held hostage. I mean??? This is like if Edgeworth had only become the Demon Prosecutor because Von Karma kidnapped his dad and kept him in the basement and forced Edgeworth to by threatening his father, and Edgeworth's unethical behaviour was still framed like it was him not understanding what a prosecutor does and needing to grow as a person. It's ridiculous.

If Phoenix has any issues that could lead to unethical behaviour in the courtroom, it's a) his stubborn trust in people, and b) his savior complex. And since the first is, in fact, a good thing, adressing the second would probably be better. And it did come up in this trial, and was challenged, but it was not the reason he tried to get Engarde off unjustly, not really. Sure, he reacted unhealthily to Maya being held hostage, at first refusing Edgeworth's help because he believed he needed to save Maya himself, but he gave in rather quickly, and it wasn't the reason he fought Edgeworth on the guilty verdict in court. That was because he needed to stall for time and had been explicitly asked to do so by the rescue team. If anything, his savior complex lead him to do the right thing, since he just couldn't get himself to condemn Adrien while she was begging for help.

For the record, I do think Phoenix's savior complex is a character flaw, and even though I think his stubborn trust is ultimately a virtue, I do think it can cause problems (which, from what I've heard, the series does address later). I also don't think Phoenix acted flawlessly during this trial; his grudge for and lack of trust in Edgeworth jeaporized the situation further, and if he'd sought help earlier rather than trying to solve the situation himself, it may not have escalated as much as it did. But none of those things have anything to do with thoughtlessly trying to get Engarde off. They have to do with Phoenix's reaction to Edgeworth's 'death' and Maya's kidnapping.

Because ultimately, the conflict in this case wasn't 'What does it mean to be a defense attorney when your client is guilty?', but rather 'Does the duty an attorney has to truth and justice outweigh the life of a loved one?' But that first dilemma has a simple, clear-cut right answer: you should not try to get the guilty off for murder. But the second doesn't have one; answering it is highly dependent on your personal belief system and sense of morality. And Ace Attorney didn't seem to want to give one, either because it was afraid of stepping on toes, or because it wanted the player to come to their own conclusions. This is why it was your choice to decide whether Phoenix would say his client was guilty or not guilty, and Phoenix himself gave no canon answer.

And this is REALLY compelling but it also has fuck all to do with 'Phoenix gets his clients off no matter what' and it's weird to me they tried to pretend otherwise.

[mandalore-s]

The door — Darth Vader x fem OC

WARNINGS: burned vader, smut, fingering, thigh riding, death, the OC is a nightsister.

ALSO: It is not corrected, I will fix it as quickly possible.

Vader gracefully guided Annika's steps in the planet's hall. The music sounded at a fast pace and the two moved perfectly. After a few more steps, the noise stopped and a new song started, this time, slower and more melancholy.

Vader ran a hand around Annika's neck, making her body shiver, he realized the effect it was transmitted and decided to continue. His hands went around her arms until Vader reached her waist, where he landed with a firm grip. The girl's body reacted, arching slightly in front of Vader. With the soft rhythm of the melody echoing throughout the room, Annika rested her head on Vader's chest, feeling her soft breath enter her ears. Little hands of hers slid down her back and found lightly on Annika cloak and left this time on her chest. Vader tugged at the girl's chin, making her face the same.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" —His robotic voice from Vader filled her ears making her smile. “You look beautiful, as always."

His gloved hands traveled and caressed every possible part of the girl's body discreetly so that no one would notice. A slow sigh was found in Annika's mouth.

“As much as I'm enjoying this ... stop. They will notice.” —Annika spoke, placing her hands in Vader's. The size difference was noticeable.

“No one would dare face me." —Vader whispered behind the mask, caressing the girl's neck making her close her eyes taking advantage of the situation. "And I don't care. There is only one person I care about here and she is not complaining about my...touches.” —He continued to caress her all over her body, discreetly placing one of his hands between Annika's thighs, which made her open her eyes and look at the Lord in fright.

"Don't pretend you didn't like it. I felt your heart racing. Besides, that dress..— Vader continued to lift her hand while the other slightly squeezed her neck. Annika's legs closed slightly against his hands while he massaged torture-related parts, never getting where she wanted to.

“Easy. They will notice.” —Vader spoke using her words against the same. "Besides... you are in the same rooms as me tonight.” —Vader removed his hand between her legs, leaving the hall and Annika without structures, then following the Dark Lord longing for more.

When Annika entered the rooms, Vader was standing facing the planet's horizon.

"It is not cool to do that to a girl, Lord Vader." —Annika spoke hoarsely emphasizing his name making him slowly turn to Annika in the dark of the starlit room.

Vader robotic breath filled the room and he slowly walked over to face the girl. His gloves went around Annika's bare arms making her shiver.

“There are many things I would like to do with you."—Vader said slowly as he ran his hands over the non-tissue parts of her body.

“And what is stopping you?"

“Perhaps...the noises that will come out of your mouth if I start. We don't want to attract attention, do we, Annika?” —A soft squeeze from the Force ran through the girl's breasts and a slight moan left her mouth. Annika remembered a night before where she had stayed under him...that night. Darth Vader knew every point on her body that yearned for him. She wondered what he would be able to do with her pressed against a wall and all of her armor pressing her body against it.

"I am impressed by your imagination, little witch.”—Vader pulled the girl's heels by the Force making her as low as possible next to Lord. His gloved hand grabbed her chin and stared at her.

"This is your fault." —Annika crashed into the wall when Vader took steps toward her, running his hands over the girl's waist and belly. “Damn it. I would like to kiss you right now.”

Vader froze. He remembered their first day in his chamber.

"You know this is impossible.” —He continued to stroke the girl's thighs and she looked at him maliciously. His familiar hands green with magic and the room closed in a perfect chamber for him. For both. A smile broke out on her face.

“Keep telling yourself that. “ —She motioned silently to take off her helmet and he left her. Her hands came up to reveal his scarred face. "I'm afraid you have to get down, Lord Vader."

“Do I?” —The Sith Lord placed her on the wall, wrapping his arms around her waist and ass, leaving her at his height. He pressured the bodies to take his breath away. Annika's heavy breath beat against his face, but he wouldn't be the first to kiss.

And it didn't take another second.

Annika's lips clasped with his as the Lord walked his hands over every strip of naked girl's request he reached. Annika moaned into his mouth making him let out a slow breath. Their tongues explored each moment and second. Vader was at the girl's mercy and enjoyed the best sensations with her. Annika's hands went to the Lord's cloak and unbuttoned it and dropped to the cold floor. Vader walked away.

“What?” —She looked meaningless with a red face. Vader put two fingers in her mouth making her run her tongue around. His circular, wet fingers massaged Annika's breasts while her mouths were glued together. "Vader...” —He motioned for her to be quiet.

“Are you excited to know that someone can come here anytime?" —The Lord said as she moved with her touches.

“It excites me more to know that anyone who interrupts us you would kill."—Annika spoke purringly.

“The fact that I am the greatest evil in the galaxy makes you like this..." —Vader took his hand to the place Annika wanted and a soft moan escaped her lips. She was already wet before she even entered the room. Vader took his hand away and Annika protested. The Lord's tongue passed over the girl's neck and the entire length of her collarbone, face and neck. Her hand tightened on her body. "Yeah...I was right.”

Her legs were slung around Vader's waist, she tried to move as much as possible trying to create more contact with all that armor. Her thighs pressed against him.

Vader reached the girl's lips again suggesting her tongue and gently removing her dress. He let her out of his grips to throw the fabric on the floor, revealing her breasts and her anguish for feeling more of him. Vader certifies the Force to place it pressed against the wall again.

“No...No, I want you. I want your hands around me. I want your whole body to press against mine. Squeezing me. I don't want you to use your tricks on me.” —Annika spoke and he obeyed.

Vader exerting the Force to tighten her clit and her breasts at the same time. The girl moaned loudly and her eyes closed but the Lord stopped.

“Without using tricks." —He said putting his hand on the girl’s throat and squeezing. He knew she loved it when he did that. “Or should I continue?"

“Y-yes..." —Annika closed her eyes, taking advantage of every sensation he gave, clutching her chest in vain. Her thighs moved around him. Vader ran his fingers down her breasts, belly until he reached her tender spot. Fingers her back and forth movements are shallow.

“Hmm...” —Vader grunted. "I think my fingers will do a better job."

“Vader... I wanted to try something.” —He paid attention to her words and the sweet sound of. Annika held on to the metallic arm he had won during the Clone Wars. She takes the gloves in his mouth and removed them. Vader moaned softly. "Use it.” —Annika lowered her arm and the cold metal in the middle of her thighs resulted in a groan. Vader stroked slowly, surprised by the attitude.

Vader introduced himself when he updated his metallic arm to feel the sensations as if it were the arm he had lost. Without the gloves... it would be an interesting experience.

The metal traveled slowly down her clit before descending further. The cold in contact with his skin made one grumble with pleasure.

“I'm surprised..." —He said, touching her slowly. "I didn't know you were open to that kind of...experience. Particularly I wouldn't have thought of that...”—He whispered in her ear. "But I'm happy to know that I turn you on enough to want each part of me to touch you in different ways."

The Lord's breath tickle her exposed skin. A hoarse cry of pleasure escaped the girl's mouth when Vader discovered another sensitive spot on her body. A sigh left his mouth.

"Vader...” —Her thighs tightened around the metallic arm. The Sith inserted a metallic finger gently and slowly into her. She moaned obscenely almost loud enough. Fuck.

“Take...off...the other...g-glove...P-please.” —She whispered between her moans. And fuck, she was really into it. Once again, he obeyed her: The other metallic hand reached her throat, putting a slight pressure on the area. Her eyes were closed enjoying him. The hand marked her throat and the same hand left her neck and was tightening hers waist and belly.

Vader was no longer moving his hands. She rides on the metallic arm with all the armor suffocating her against the wall. Pornography Illegal. He thought.

“Fuck...come to bed. I can finish your fantasies after. I have another idea on my mind” —Vader said and she opened her eyes, slowly. The feeling of his hands letting off her body made the girl feeling incomplete. He held her naked body tightly while effortlessly carrying her to the huge bed.

Vader reached his helmet with the Force and put it back on, leaving her confused. But she didn’t asked.

“Here is the thing.” —Vader placed her on top of him, with the legs on each side wrapped around his spine. His hands travelled in her body. His robotic breath was driving her insane. “You will ride...my arm. Break it if you need. I don’t care.”

“Vader...Your voice...robotic...makes me feel so much things.” —She said moving in his thighs in a slow back and forth motion. And he felt it. He still had his thighs and he was feeling it. And she knew it.

“Why don’t you tell me?” —The robotic voice again. The robotic breathing. Her heart could explode in any moment. But she didn’t stopped her moves in his thigh. Tease.

“I have to...a lot of self control every day while you're surrounded by powerful and influential people. The way you talk and act...even the way you kill...Once I saw you...”

“Hmm?” —It was like a praise for his ears. He wanted more. His hands tightened her back making her tighter on his thighs as she moved torturously.

“Chocking someone to death...it was...I shouldn’t felt that way...b-but...” —She moaned loudly and his hands covered her mouth. “So…breathtaking.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He was so hard.

Vader’s fingers reached her clit stimulating the movements she was doing, while her other hand covered her mouth. His breathe was driving her. All that she could think was about his breath and his hands.

“Fuck…you’re soaked…Better, than.” —Without warning, Vader straightened up on the bed quickly. The Sith pulled his back together so she was sitting better on his lap. He bent her legs until she was comfortable in that position. Two metal fingers penetrated her and she almost scremed with her eyes closed. By the Force, he sensed that it wasn’t a scream of pain.

Two fingers inside her while the other hand gently massaged her breasts and scratched her waist and spine. She was riding smoothly, getting ready until it was good for her.

And then she did it.

Her breasts pressed against the cold metal of the armor's chest made her move a little faster. The heavy metal breath of him was to close of her ears. Groans escaped her mouth profanely and she bit her lip to try to contain the noises. But Vader didn’t liked it.

“I want to hear. Fuck, I don’t care. Anyone who interrupts us is going to die. Let..Let…—He ran his fingers inside her mouth. “Them out.”

“…You liked it, hm? Knowing that I can throw my lightsaber out the door and decapitate anyone who crosses it…”

She moved faster and stronger against his fingers.

“That’s it.” —Vader thought how good was having a metal arm. Metal fingers. The way she was using his parts for her own pleasure and the way he was feeling it, every movement. Vader wanted to be stuck in that sensation for life. “You could break my whole body and I would reassemble it every time to have you like this.”

His other arm reached around the neck behind her back and was scratching heavily without caring if it was hurting her or not. He didn’t care. The fingers inside her supposed to hurt but it wasn’t. Starts, thanks it wasn’t hurting. His breath behind the helmet was gradually failing. It was too much for him. “Y-you okay?” —She said moaning.

“More than.” —He strongly pressured her clit with the Force, while playing with the rest of the body. She screamed.

“Vader!” —She was losing her energy and so he decided to help.

“Hm…relax.” —Her chest rose and fell very fast and he smoothed her inside his fingers. Then he started to move. “That’s it…I got you.”

And, fuck. He wanted to have his arm broken by her. All the weight of her body deposited on his fingers. Her head fell on the armor's shoulders and she pressed her body painfully against his. The sensation of the breathing and his movements breathing against her was intoxicating. Her breasts accompanied the robotic breathing of the armor. “Vader…” —A robotic groan escaped his helmet and another from her mouth. “Don’t…it’s too much for me…” —The fact that she was saying about his moan made him crazy. Stars. He was feeling her so good under his fingers.

Vader stimulated her with the Force and he knew she was coming. He violently plucked her hair pleasantly by the neck and made her face him.

“Open your eyes.” —Eyes and mouth half closed looking him, the helmet. She was breathing hard and moaning low. Her best look. “Keep them open, I want you looking at me when you cum.”

With final moves on her part and her head propped up on Vader's hands, looking at the helmet, she came looking at him. He couldn’t stop a slow, heavy groan leaving his throat.

“D-don’t move. Please.” —She asked, felling on his fingers. “J-just a little bit…” —She said moving very slowly against his fingers and reaching for Vader’s other hand, guiding to squeeze her breasts. “Feels so…good.”

“Good girl.”

She slowly came out of his fingers and sat down between his thighs, throwing him behind the bed and laying on top of the armor. It took minutes for her to compose herself and be able to return to normal breathing.

“Darth Vader.” —His name was in her mouth. “How can still be so excited listening to the sound of your breath?”

“It makes you more excited to know that I put my gloves…over your cum? That I'm going to walk around there and nobody will know that you were riding so dirty on me?”

Her legs were rubbing against his thighs. Then, in a quick movement he put her under him and pressed half the weight of the armor on her, she moaned looking at him.

“You like it, hm? Being so tight against me.” —He whispered close to her ear. And she was already wet for Vader again. “I'm flattered” —His gloved hands passed close to her tender spot.

“We…have all night…don’t we?” —She asked in a whisper.

“We do. But, not now…just get some rest.I need to kill who's listening behind the door.”

“Wait, WHAT?” —She spoke while he left the bed. Vader walked silently through the door and opened it, revealing a curious look from several employees, now in fear. It only took a gentle movement of his hand to break the necks of the employees. And then, the door was closed again.

“You did know they were here all this time?”

“Didn't you say it would excite you to know that I would kill anyone who came through that door?”

[emilysarmstrong]

THIS IS GONNA BE A RANT AND I'M ON MOBILE SO NO READMORE FOR Y'ALL, YE HAVE BEEN WARNED

We managed to go on a week long vacation with my gf's parents (in the house that belonged to her great-grandpa who won it on a game of cards, but that's another story) but god, at what cost

Our cat couldn't come with us on the grounds of my gf's mom being severely allergic, so we were waiting for The Roommate to come back so she could watch over her (and her own cat too), but after two weeks (of a supposedly ONE WEEK TRIP) she finally told us that she was only coming back TWO DAYS AFTER my gf's parents were supposed to be back so no fucking vacation for us I guess?

We wanted at least to spend a weekend away from this house that has been in the middle of a moving since GODDAMN MARCH full of boxes and trash everywhere, so we had everything set up for gf's uncle to come over and feed the cats for two days. Once we finally got to the vacation spot, The Roommate calls us to say that she got someone to watch the cats.

Time to drive ALL THE WAY BACK to relieve the aforementioned uncle from duty and bring our keys to the person who was supposed to watch the cats. Turns out it's this old judgy neighbour lady who was annoyed that we wanted to show her where the cat food and litter were, where we had made a neat pile of clean pet bowls and plates for them, the lists with how much and how many portions to feed them, our phone numbers... and then she got pissy because "[Roommate] said I only had to feed the cats once a day"

EXCUSE ME?

WHY DON'T YOU TRY TO SURVIVE ON ONE MEAL AND A SINGLE GLASS OF WATER A DAY, ELIZABETH?

Anyway we reiterated the importance of getting the cats fed and their water changed twice a day, and hoped The Roommate had chosen a dependable person to take care of the cats

*narrator's voiceover* turns out, in fact, that she hadn't

Roommate calls us two days later to say that the catsitter called her with her panties in a twist because there were maggots in the cat food and she had to toss it all away, that she was calling another lady to pick up the catsitting, that in the end the new lady was going to buy more cat food, and and and

WHOA MCFUCKING THERE, PARDNER

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE HAD TO THROW AWAY OUR CAT'S FOOD"

"It's okay, she handled it"

"But we have enough food, there's a metal box full of wet food and a full bag of kibble"

"It's okay, she handled it"

"We have to come back to town tomorrow to get our covid vaccine shots, if there's the need for more food we can stop by the pet shop on the way"

"It's okay, she handled it"

The gods gifted me with many virtues

Patience is not one of them

And at this point the gf was already restraining me to not yell at the phone, and we agreed on not stopping by on Monday to not stress the cats further with showing up and going away, and trusting the new caretaker, that had already watched over The Roommate's cat before, to not be a complete moron

We overestimated her

We came back today to find the new caretaker, who did not even invite us in for a coffee, all pissy about The Penny having bitten her this morning when "all I did was trying to pet her". She gave us back our keys and we walked into our apartment, where The Penny was already screaming her little lungs out

The apartment

Was

A

Mess.

Penny's litter box hadn't been cleaned, at all, ever since we left

She had one bowl of water instead of the two we had left

The tray we place her bowls on was FILTHY

And I don't know what the fuck was in her kibble bowl, but boy

It was NOT the kibble that we had prepared for the week and left in a glass jar right in front of the tray

We thought that was all, but nope! Walking into the kitchen made the nightmare even worse! The food that we had set aside for the cats, that the lady claimed was gone so fast because it was filling with maggots, was still sealed on the shelf with the little notes on how to portion it attached. We had laid out wet food for a week, of which not even HALF had been used, and The Roommate's cat's kibble didn't even seem to have been touched. Instead, there were two boxes and a bag of SHIT ASS cat food of a brand we had never seen before, full of grains and coloring and other bullshit, not to mention the bag of kibble for fixed cats. WE are responsible pet owners that fixed our baby as soon as she was old enough, but The Roommate refuses to do the same to her cat (that has been constantly in heat for a while, mind you) but feeds her kibble for sterilized cats. If you're wondering if this makes her cat underweight and low energy, well, BINGO! We had finally convinced her to change into better kibble, and this FUCKER comes around and buys this shit under the premise that "poor kitty cat had no food" while there were TWO BAGS IN THE KITCHEN AND PENNY'S JAR IN OUR ROOM

And the bowls. My good lord, the bowls.

Penny eats out of steel bowls that we wash after every meal, and the water one gets washed once a day. The Roommate isn't nearly as organized with her cat's stuff, but she keeps telling everyone who listens for at least ten seconds about how her cat's whiskers are particularly sensitive and therefore she cannot eat out of regular pet bowls (instead she keeps feeding the cat in plastic plates that only get washed once a blue moon but we'll get to that in another ranty post). We specified on the notes taped to the food shelf that she has to be fed on open plate, and what did the asshole do? WELL, OBVIOUSLY NOT THAT. She grabbed a random Penny bowl and filled it with kibble, another random Penny bowl and filled it with water. And completely ignored the tray we had laid out for the other cat, with her little plate and the wider water bowl, putting the "meal" she prepared on the kitchen counter instead

Unlike Penny's litter box, that hadn't seen a scoop since we left the house, the other cat's stuff had been cleaned. Once. And the bag with the litter trash was still open in the bathroom for everyone to see and smell, because obviously, it's not like the cat would maybe just maybe like to have a room that doesn't smell of her own fucking shit, specially if said room is right besides the one where she sleeps

Now it's the following morning and I'm still seething, I cannot believe the fucking audacity. We would happily (okay, maybe not happily, but we definitely would) skip the vacation if there was no one to watch the cats. They're little living creatures that need attention, and we happily provide when we're around. It's not a crime to say "I can't watch over your pets, sorry", it doesn't make you a horrible, rude, inconsiderate person. You know what does, though? ACCEPTING TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR SOMEONE'S PET AND DOING A SHIT ASS JOB OF IT

We laid out everything. We left clean bowls and plenty of kibble and wet food. We left clean scoops to clean their litter boxes. We explained everything and literally left a phone number taped to the food shelf in case they needed us for anything. Instead, the first bitch called The Roommate to complain and the second one just deadass did whatever the fuck she wanted (also I'm convinced that she was overfeeding the cats kibble and not giving them wet food to avoid maggots instead of, you know, sticking around until the cats finished eating and putting the food away when they did. Which means The Penny gained weight in this week, a LOT of it). And ignoring the things we had prepared and explained with so much care to 1) make their lives easier and 2) MAKE IT AS SAFE AND NOT STRESSFUL FOR THE CATS AS POSSIBLE.

We've been home for twelve hours and Penny still hasn't stopped being whiny, which I'm pretty sure is only partly because she is annoyed at us for spending a long time away, but also because she has been bored out of her mind, since these people act like cats are part of the furniture and don't need attention besides some horrible slop thrown into their food bowls. Our cat missed having play time with her wand toys, hanging out with us while we watch tv, eating together (obviously, her having a little bowl of cat food while we eat human food, that we do NOT give her because we aren't stupid), sleeping in the same bed. Of course you're not mandated to do that if you're just hopping by to check on the cats and give them food, but don't act like they're furniture and then get pissy when they try to bite you because they're under stimulated! CATS NEED TO HUNT, and if you don't provide a prey in the form of a toy they're gonna hunt your fucking fingers, and my only regret is that Penpen didn't rip that asshole's hand off

I don't think there is a point to this post, I'm just angry and annoyed and frustrated, but typing everything out in an angry rant is better than yelling and scaring my already sad toebean of a cat, I guess?

Anyway if you read all of this I'm sorry and have a picture of Her Catship The Penny Dreadful

[alexalblondo]

You can ignore this if you want and maybe I'm just a bit sensitive to it as someone who is Asian but I feel like Alex is treated more harshly than other people who's been in his position no matter what Alex's success is always reduced and undermined and all his mistakes are highlighted i can't help but feel like there's definitely some kind of racial issue there but like I said I might be just sensitive

Hello friend 💕

Sorry, this took a moment, I was watching the press conference and this is a question I really wanna focus on getting right cause it deserves it!

First of all: I agree 100%! Obviously there are other factors as play but I think - just like with Lewis - there is racism at play here!

(I hope it’s okay to compare these two situations but they ARE the only noticable non white men on the grid and I think it shows cause you don’t have people tweeting about, Idk what’s a stereotype, how the french always give up every time Esteban has to let Daniel pass, I guess - yet you get ten comments about Alex going back to his soup kitchen in Asia every time he isn’t perfect)

Second: never feel like you’re being too sensitive by pointing out something like this! The worst that can happen is a person disagreeing with you and having a valid reason for why what they are saying wasn’t racially motivated - but you’d still have made them aware of a possible bias or of how they phrase something the wrong way ... the best that can happen is you figure out someone in your life is a racist and you can cut them out!

Third: in my opinion there are three factors at play when it comes to the media being more harsh on Alex: RBRs history, Pierre ... and racism!

1) RBRs history is easy enough to explain, they have a history of dropping drivers if they underperform (Pierre most recently) or if someone in Torro Rosso was performing better (Daniil) (Except how that argument never made sense here cause there wasn’t someone to be promoted in Alex’s place, sooo)

2) I should preface this by saying I like Pierre. I think he’s a great driver and his story and the way he seemingly rebuilt himself to be stronger both as a person and a driver is more than impressive and I am proud of him and happy for him, but, you know, sometimes it gets a bit much, sometimes people are ... I don’t wanna say they are complimenting him too much but Daniil has had similar results for a lot of the season and you don’t hear people constantly praise him, you know?

(Like Imola, yes, his P4 was impressive but people talked about him afterwards like he had lead the race and then DNFed in the last corner and just, nope, no hate to Pierre but we don’t know what he could have done in the race)

And that’s what I mean with the Pierre-factor cause on the one hand side we have Pierre doing so good in Alpha Tauri ... and on the other hand side we have Alex seemingly underperforming at RedBull, making people go: ohhh, Pierre is sooo amazing why did ya’ll replace him switch them back (- instead of saying: huh, maybe there is team fuckery happening ... but ya know 🙄)

I don’t wanna put ANY achievements Pierre has made down but it really annoys me the way people bring him doing well up so often while talking about Alex when that shouldn’t really be a factor cause they are not in fact in the same team and the same car (and maybe I am just doing the same thing I criticize in others, which I’m sorry for but it was to make a point)

3) and then we come to your factor and a factor that I have noticed as well which is: ✨racism✨

Now, I cannot talk about potential micro aggressions and I don’t notice everything cause I would be more of a Scarlett Johansson type of asian than you, I guess, and while I grew up with tolerent open minded NON RACIST people, the austrian-baverian border lands are not particularly multi-cultural and usually people aren’t aware of structures like racism if they benefit them, tbh, so that’s more of your part (I also don’t feel particularly comfortable commenting on this part cause, ya know, Scarlett here 🙈)

But the part that I did notice and the part that I do consider racism and the part that pisses me off to no end is: EVERYTIME SOMEONE SAYS THEY THINK ALEX WILL KEEP HIS SEAT THEY SHOEHORN IN A REFERENCE TO THE FACT THAT HIS MOTHER IS THAI AND REDBULL IS 51% THAI OWNED

Whew, sorry for screaming!

It’s just - the only OTHER PERSON they mention his sponsoring so much with is Lance Stroll who’s father LITTERALLY owns about half of Racing Point! (again, not meant against Lance)

Like, you don’t hear people say Seb only got the seat at Aston Martin cause his wife is part-british or Esteban only got the Renault seat cause he is french or hear people mention that Lando is both british and his dad bought into McLaren and that’s why he is at McLaren

But with Alex it’s constant! I don’t know about Sky UK or any other but there isn’t a single session at Sky Germany that doesn’t point this fact out at least once, cause, Idk, we don’t remember the last 15 times?

Yeah.

Okay, I’m gonna stop here cause this is super long already and I just realised I didn’t particularly go into what you mean, but I just wanna say: I agree. I think he is criticised more cause he isn’t white.

Anyways, apologize for the long ass post and I won’t reread it, so sorry for all mistakes, I’ll probably edit it like 5 times in the next hour though!

Thank you though, for coming to me to talk about this and I hope I didn’t say anything horrible!

(Reason #4 btw is that Alex being shy and awkward and nice means we don’t hear him complain as much or as dramatic as, well, his teammate which makes people think it isn’t that bad and also makes them miss that he just voiced something was wrong)

(Which is a really dumb thing but Sky Germany keeps pointing out how ... unenthusiastic and quiet Alex is on the radios so yeah)

Anyways: If your still reading have a fantastic night and do something that makes you happy!!!!

[lady-divine-writes]

Klainetober one-shot - “Neck Nibbles” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Kurt wakes up to something biting his neck. Blaine claims it's a mosquito. When Kurt wakes in the morning, he discovers that perhaps Blaine was lying ... (2336 words)

Notes: A re-write for the @klainetober prompt 'vampire'. Follows 'One of Those Nights'.

Read on AO3.

Kurt feels a slight pinch, like the prick of a tiny needle injecting into his neck, and in his sleep, he swings a hand to bat the culprit away.

“Oof! Kurt!” Blaine groans, taking the hit square in the eye.

“Wha---?” Kurt mumbles, only partially awake. “What are you doing?” He snorts in a, frankly, unattractive way - a way reserved for muttering in his sleep - then shifts positions, rolling his hips left, then his body, till he’s lying on his side facing away from his boyfriend.

“I’m not doing anything,” Blaine replies. “Go back to sleep.”

Kurt arcs an eyebrow, but he doesn't open his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Go back to sleep."

Kurt would say that Blaine sounds suspiciously awake and coherent for two fifty-two in the morning, but it’s times like these that Kurt forgets his boyfriend is a vampire, not the dapper Prince Charming he fell in love with back at Dalton.

“I’m trying,” Kurt complains, bringing the comforter up to his chin and holding it tight against him to protect his vulnerable neck. “But there’s a mosquito or something in here, and it’s bugging me … hee-hee … bugging me …” Kurt chuckles at his unintended pun, snorting again, which makes him laugh harder.

“I’ll kill it if it comes back,” Blaine promises. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmm … okay …” Kurt agrees, shoving skepticism aside and snuggling against the hard body of his boyfriend, who usually opts to lie beside Kurt in bed even though he doesn’t need sleep. “As long as you (yawn) stay here to protect me.”

“Of course.” Blaine smiles, fangs bared as Kurt snores softly. “I’ll stay right here." He kisses Kurt lightly on the forehead. "I'm not going anywhere ...”

***

Kurt can feel the sun within his body telling him it’s time to rise - an occupational hazard of dating a vampire, this sixth sense about the oncoming dawn. It also means that Blaine has made himself scarce, banished to the dark corner of the bedroom by the closet where the sunlight doesn’t reach until noon. The sun has yet to breach the horizon and pierce his sheer drapes, but Kurt can feel it prickling behind his eyelids. 

That’s odd. 

Rarely does that happen unless he and Blaine have a hardcore make-out sesh with lots of biting involved. But weeks of putting in overtime at school and at the diner sent Kurt to bed early, so that definitely didn’t happen.

Heartbreaking.

Short of that strange symptom, his primary concern at the moment is the number that insect did on him last night. Kurt raises a hand to his neck, hissing when his fingertips come in contact with his sore skin.

“Ugh,” he grumbles, rolling his way out of bed. "Must have been a huge mosquito. Filthy bloodsucker ..." He cringes at his own remark, hoping he didn't inadvertently offend his boyfriend. He'll find out after he assesses the damage to his neck. Kurt has extremely sensitive skin. A single bite from a pernicious parasite can make him look like he has a goiter! He needs to figure out how much cover-up he’s going to need to apply before school. 

His feet hit the floor, and immediately the urge to climb back into bed and hide under the covers overwhelms him. 

He got a decent amount of sleep last night. Why is he so damned out of it?

Kurt stumbles blindly over to his vanity and drops onto the stool, groaning at the prospect of opening his eyes. The day would go so much easier if he could keep them shut, but that would probably make taking the subway way more challenging. Kurt blinks his eyes open, lids dragging over sticky corneas, objecting to the idea of letting light anywhere near his retinas. Kurt turns away from the mirror when a stream of light hits the reflective surface and brightens the room.

“Jeez,” Kurt mumbles, putting a hand to his aching head, shielding his eyes. “Hey, Blaine? Did you hand me a hard cider instead of a Diet Coke last night or something? Because I feel awful!”

Blaine doesn’t answer. A few more blinks confirm that Kurt’s boyfriend isn’t even in the room.

Uh-oh, Kurt thinks. That’s never a good sign.

Kurt rubs his eyes hard with the heels of his palms, blinking between rubs to kick-start the watering process. He manages to clear his bleary vision enough to get a decent glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, and his jaw drops.

“BLAINE!” Kurt roars when he sees the grotesque purple splotches running up and down his neck, covering nearly every conceivable inch of skin.

“Yes?” Blaine peeks his head in the bedroom door, biting his lower lip when he catches Kurt’s reflection in the mirror. “Can I help you with something, love?”

“Did you do this?” Kurt asks, pawing at his neck, running his fingertips over the marks, gasping in horror at the nastier ones.

“No?” Blaine says uneasily. “It was a mosquito. You ... you said so yourself.”

Kurt frowns.

Blaine is a horrible liar. 

An incredible actor, but a horrible liar.

Not too long ago, Kurt and Blaine stumbled upon another vampire. A friendly vampire. Victim of circumstance, like Blaine, but for a far less comical reason. This vampire warned Kurt to be careful, said that now that Blaine was a vampire, he'd be better at hiding the truth. 

But he isn't. 

Not by a long shot.

He was a better liar when he was human.

Kurt pivots on his stool to glare angrily at Blaine since looking at his non-reflection through the mirror was getting irritating.

“A mosquito did this?” Kurt points to a particularly massive and vicious-looking bite, countering Blaine’s ridiculous lie.

“Y-yes?”  

Kurt turns back to the mirror right as a more intense beam of sunlight hits the glass. He yelps, squeezing his eyes shut hard to avoid the glare.

“Dammit, Blaine!” Kurt leaps off the stool and races to the window to secure the black-out curtains. “You did bite me! I can feel it! All the way to the back of my brain!”

“Only a little,” Blaine finally admits, daring a few steps into the room.

“Only a little? I look like ground meat! Blaine!” Kurt staggers back to his vanity to better examine the damage.

“D-don’t freak out.” Blaine sits on the edge of the bed, watching Kurt set up his arsenal of foundation, intent on covering up the bruises. “The photophobia will wear off in a few hours.”

“It’s not the photophobia that’s bothering me.” Kurt opens a container of green base makeup to prep his violated neck. “If you wanted a late-night snack, could you have at least bitten a spot that won’t show? I have play practice this afternoon, and you know how important this is to me. I look diseased!”

“You could always wear a scarf,” Blaine suggests. "You have tons."

“I bought a new Marc Jacobs shirt with a V-neckline, and none of my scarves go with it,” Kurt argues, turning left and right, whimpering at his boyfriend’s handiwork. “And I was really looking forward to wearing it today.”

“Yeah ... I wanted to ask you about that …”

“Ask me about what?” Kurt asks, dabbing furiously.

“Why the departure from your leather jacket and t-shirts? I mean, you were into fashion when we met, but when I became a … you know …”

“Vampire?” Kurt offers flatly. He has come to terms with it, but, to be honest, there is a part of him that is having a hard time forgiving Blaine over it.

“Yeah, that,” Blaine says sheepishly. “You changed your look. And I know it might sound silly, but it meant something to me. Like, I transformed, and then you did, too. I thought you did it so we would match."

"I did," Kurt admits.

"So ... why are you buying designer clothes again?”

“Because this is an important production, and I want to look a little more professional,” Kurt explains. “I’m not doing it to hurt you if that’s what you think. I'm not that kind of person.”

Blaine nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Is it really that? Or is it because that blond with the sexy English accent is going to be there?” 

"What?" Kurt stops fussing with his makeup, an applicator wedge slathered in primer poised an inch from his skin. "Why would you think ...?" Kurt's eyes go wide. “Wait, wait, wait …” He turns to face Blaine, whose gaze darts away to meticulously examine the threads of Kurt’s Valentina comforter. “Are you jealous?”

Blaine falls silent a moment, gets lost in thought. Then, as if suddenly remembering he's in the middle of a conversation, sputters a weak laugh.

“What? N-no. Not a bit. What do I have to be jealous of?”

“Exactly.” Kurt puts his makeup wedge down and scoots closer, placing his hands on Blaine’s knees. “What do you have to be jealous of?”

“Maybe the fact that you’re living the dream? Not just your dream, but mine, too. A dream I’m never going to be able to fulfill.” Blaine's eyes travel from the comforter to the floor, where a narrow ray of light spreads over the wood. “Or maybe … I'm jealous of this …” He sweeps a hand through the beam, his skin sizzling at the touch of sunlight.

“Blaine! Stop! Don’t hurt yourself!” Kurt reaches for Blaine’s burnt hand and holds it in his. He stands and pulls Blaine down the width of the bed, farther away from the window. Kurt sits beside him, rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder. “Oh, honey. We talked about this.”

Blaine shrugs the opposite shoulder, uncomfortable with laying his fears bare, but he doesn’t pull his hand away, curling his fingers over Kurt’s to keep them joined. Kurt looks into Blaine’s face, into glowing red eyes fighting to stay open as the oncoming dawn weighs heavy on him. Kurt knows Blaine’s transformation has been difficult for him to adjust to, but it has never been particularly challenging for them as a couple – not until Kurt landed the starring role in a play that had the potential to go from the humble student theater at NYADA to off-Broadway, with Kurt leading the charge. “No one is going to replace you. And that guy …” Kurt shakes his head. “He doesn’t even come close. Besides ..." Kurt grins "... I’m not the flirt in this relationship. You are.”

"Yeah, well, not so much anymore." Blaine chuckles, tired eyes lifting to meet Kurt’s.

"You have your moments." Kurt raises a hand to cup Blaine’s cold cheek. "You have to trust me."

“I do trust you.” Blaine turns into Kurt’s hand and kisses his wrist, right above the pulse that calls to him incessantly, echoing his need. Blaine doesn’t know if it’s the love he carried over into this immortal life or if that need has always been there, but he has a bond with Kurt – one that would devastate him if it was broken. “It’s that guy I don’t trust. I’ve been to your midnight rehearsals. I see the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention.”

“And do you remember the way I used to look at you at Dalton when I thought you weren’t paying attention?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answers with a wistful laugh. “Yeah, I do.” If Blaine closes his eyes, he can see those furtive glances - Kurt's magical blue eyes grazing Blaine's face before returning to his books, smile growing, cheeks burning red.

God, he misses those days. Misses the excitement of newborn love, the kind of urgent, drama-filled attraction that happens only in high school. He mourns the fact that their life together, the one they had planned so carefully, came to such an abrupt end.

It was all his fault.

And nothing he can do will fix it.

“Well, I still do.” Kurt leans in close and presses a kiss to Blaine’s lips. Blaine smiles into it, wants it to go on forever, even when he feels his strength ebbing away. As the sun rises higher in the sky, Blaine’s need to find somewhere dark to rest amplifies, but he’ll do anything to stay like this and keep kissing his boyfriend.

But he can’t, even if he could convince Kurt to play hooky and stay home with him, and that’s one more thing he has to be jealous of.

“I should let you get back to your cover-up,” Blaine says, relinquishing his grip on Kurt’s hand. Kurt looks at his vanity, at the army of small bottles and jars awaiting him, all very expensive. And not a one of them more important than his boyfriend. Not even his clear, alabaster skin is more important to him than Blaine.

“You know what? Fuck it!” Kurt jumps up the bed and pulls Blaine along with him. “So what if I wear a scarf that doesn't match? No one at NYADA really knows fashion anyway."

"What about ... what about the play?" Blaine argues but he's not fighting. He couldn't if he wanted to.

And Lord knows, he doesn't want to.

"I’ll have the makeup girl cover them up. Let her earn her keep. This way, everybody gets to see the marks my baby gave me.”

“Really?” Blaine raises an eyebrow. 

Kurt tugs Blaine on top of him, and Blaine carefully settles over Kurt’s body.

“Yup. In fact, I think I can handle a few more, if you’re not too tired, that is.” Kurt loops his arms around Blaine’s neck, threading his fingers into his hair. His skin may be unnaturally cool to the touch, but his hair still feels like silk. It’s one of Kurt’s favorite things about Blaine’s new body.

“I think I can do that,” Blaine says, biding past the daybreak and finding a clear spot on Kurt’s neck. “We’ll give that makeup girl a run for her money.”

[la-galaxie-langblr]

I've never done this type of post before but it's sort of still within the studyblr theme and I have some Thoughts™ so I may as well.

I can't do a read more on mobile and this will be a long post so be warned.

One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus Review (contains spoilers)

(excuse the bad cropping I tried)

The Breakfast Club meets Pretty Little Liars, One of Us Is Lying is the story of what happens when five strangers walk into detention and only four walk out alive. Everyone is a suspect, and everyone has something to hide.

Pay close attention and you might solve this.

On Monday afternoon, five students at Bayview High walk into detention.

Bronwyn, the brain, is Yale-bound and never breaks a rule.

Addy, the beauty, is the picture-perfect homecoming princess.

Nate, the criminal, is already on probation for dealing.

Cooper, the athlete, is the all-star baseball pitcher.

And Simon, the outcast, is the creator of Bayview High's notorious gossip app.

Only, Simon never makes it out of that classroom. Before the end of detention, Simon's dead. And according to investigators, his death wasn't an accident. On Monday, he died. But on Tuesday, he'd planned to post juicy reveals about all four of his high-profile classmates, which makes all four of them suspects in his murder. Or are they the perfect patsies for a killer who's still on the loose?

Everyone has secrets, right? What really matters is how far you would go to protect them.

Description from Goodreads.com

TW - mentions and themes of depression, suicide, mental illness, homophobia, being outed

What I liked

I generally liked the four main characters, they have personalities and flaws and they're likeable for the most part

Addy's character arc was probably my favourite, her realisation that Jake was a controlling boyfriend, cutting off her hair and expressing herself, becoming more independent from her mother and learning to improve her relationship with her sister, in general I liked the character she became by the end

Speaking of sisters, I liked the dynamic between Maeve and Bronwyn. Bronwyn doesn't baby her despite her medical history and they get on well, as well as the odd normal sibling arguments

Despite being sceptical at first, I thought Nate and Bronwyn's romance was quite cute by the end of the novel

There was decent suspense surrounding the mystery

As much as I found flaws in Cooper's story (see below) I liked how he could have been the horrible jock, but he was actually a decent person. A nice difference from the typical jock character

Nonny is my favourite adult. We love wise old ladies

What I disliked

I called quite a lot of the major plot points. Not to brag or anything, but it shows it's slightly predictable at times. I predicted that Bronwyn and Nate would get together pretty early in the book, I predicted that Janae would be involved, I predicted that it would be a suicide. I predicted those last two about 2/3 of the way through the book so it wasn't obvious from the start but yeah

The characters are very one dimensional and stereotypical at the start, and if it weren't for sheer will power I would have given up fairly quickly. Bronwyn is a geek who does all the extracurriculars, Nate is a bad boy with a criminal record, Cooper is great at sports and Addy is very shallow. Literally what they're said to be on the title in the first few chapters

The good girl/bad boy romance between Bronwyn and Nate was predictable. I've read enough Wattpad books to know the formula and spot the signs - childhood friends, pretend to have nothing to do with each other but actually have feelings for each other secretly, good girl finds out that bad boy has bad home life, bad boy finds out good girl isn't as much of a rule stickler as first appears, love. Ta da. A couple

I was disappointed with Cooper's arc and story. I thought near the start when it was shown that all of them have secrets "If one of the characters' secrets is that one of them is gay, that could be cool to explore the themes of homophobia in high schools. It would be even cooler if it was Cooper, as toxic masculinity within sports is a problem" I was proud of myself for kind of calling that one but I was disappointed with how it was handled

I feel like we could have seen more of Cooper and his father repairing their relationship after Cooper is forced to come out due to circumstances. Like the father is disappointed, then a couple chapters later he's kind of talking to him again only after Cooper starts receiving baseball offers again. There's no awkward conversation, no trying to understand from the father, it just happens and then it seems to be over and is never touched on again. There could have been a lot more done with this plot point and I feel he was robbed of the character development that the other three got, especially Addy. I was so happy with her arc and disappointed with Cooper's

There was no follow up with the police basically outing Cooper and getting away with it?? Like there's talk of people being angry at what the police did but the police never faced consequences nor was there any discussion within the novel about why outing someone is bad. I know it's not the main plot of the novel and I'm not expecting a Simon-Martin-carpark masterpiece exchange like in Simon vs The Homosapiens Agenda but there could have been something??

Sidenote - I want to do more book reviews, especially on queer books, and Simon will be the first.

There was the cafeteria scene and the mention of those boys being nasty at a baseball game but Cooper faces relatively little opposition after coming out. Yes, I want queer characters to be happy. Yes, I know this is not the main plot of the book. I'm just saying Cooper was robbed of a good character arc and if there had been more between him and his father I would have less complaints

I get why he cheated on Keeley, compulsory heteronormativity is a real and difficult problem, but Cooper faces no consequences for cheating on Keeley. She's not my favourite character for reasons I don't know how to explain but she deserved better

The explanation of how and why for the ending is confusing to read, we know almost nothing before Janae reveals everything. It's a lot of info to take in at once and so it makes everything very confusing

OK here we go, my big problem with the book - its handling of mental health, particularly depression, self harm and suicide. Final TW before things get serious.

The final twist of revealing that Simon's death wasn't murder, it was suicide - I get he was depressed, I get his reasons, but I've also seen other people complain about this - Suicide is a delicate and serious topic that needs to be handled with sensitivity and shouldn't be a plot twist for shock factor. No hate to the author, but it needs to be said, I don't like how this was handled at all

I have similar comments to write for Leah's character

Final rating - 2/5 (⭐⭐⚫⚫⚫)

The characters are what saves this from a lower rating. I was disappointed in general - with Cooper's arc, the handling of sensitive topics and the ending. I'd heard such good things about this book and I'm disappointed.

If you liked this book, tell me why! Yes I was very critical, but I want to hear different opinions so my view of the book becomes more rounded. I want to do more of these so I hope you enjoyed :)

[1kook]

freefall

✗ Wong Yukhei x (F) Reader

summary→ You thought you told Yukhei you didn’t trust Rohei, especially when she was high. Why he even bothers to hang out with her despite her obvious crush is beyond you. wc→ 6.6k tags→ angst, homewrecking attempts, drug use, couple fights :/, makeup vanilla sex, bulging mention, breath play but not rlly lol

fly→ soar→ freefall 

this has been in my drafts for 7 MONTHS!! I'm sorry also not proofread lol

A lot of the things you knew about your boyfriend where things he told you himself, like his favorite color or his grandma’s name. He loved to tell you every little detail of his day, from the fact his socks were inside out to the weird LARPer group he’d seen on the way to class. He’d told you about his love for soccer and his first crush and the last movie he saw and how he liked his phone beneath his pillow. Yukhei literally told you absolutely everything about himself. 

There’s two things Yukhei’s never directly told you. 

The first was something you’re sure Yukhei isn’t exactly aware of himself, and that was the ridiculously Casanova persona he took on when he was high. Of course, you knew firsthand about this Yukhei. His playful expression would fade away, until he was all molten gazes and wandering hands, sneaking beneath your skirt after he’d cornered you against some frat house’s kitchen. Breathy laughs, plush lips pressed against your jaw in some sort of twisted game to see if he could make you come in front of all those people, pressing his wonderfully hidden cock against your hip until you begged him to go home. 

With a little bit of weed, Yukhei became an absolutely delectable man, and you’re not the only one who’s noticed. 

Which leads you to the second piece of information Yukhei’s never told you, and that was the existence of one very clingy girl. Her name was Rohei, an accounting major in the same year as Yukhei. She was pretty and nice, and everyone seemed to like her, which somehow made her entitled to your boyfriend.  How ridiculous. 

You’re not sure when exactly she’d become such a blip in your radar, or when she even started hanging around him. Yukhei never mentioned her, so for a while, you ignored her. 

That is until she started showing up to your sessions, all giggly and annoying as she tried to squish herself beside Yukhei. Even then you’d given her the benefit of the doubt, knowing you were also, quite frankly, an annoying person when you were high. The smoke made a lot of things foggy, but her hand resting on his thigh was as clear as day. 

After that, you’d warned Yukhei against seeing the home wrecker, citing your own personal girl instincts as the only solid reason you had against disliking her, not that Yukhei particularly cared. The first time you mentioned her had confused the fuck out of him, and it only took about five minutes of physical descriptions for him to realize exactly who you were talking about. 

“Oh,” he sighed, pausing his game of Zelda to glance over at you. “The girl with the Windex bottle laugh?” 

You snorted, giving his side a gentle shove with your foot. “Yeah, that girl,” you said. You abandoned your phone in favor of meeting his gaze. He’d invited you over fresh out of his shower, his hair wonderfully fluffed up and soft. God, was he attractive. As if sensing your sudden shift, he wrapped one huge hand around your ankle, tugging you down the bed and towards him. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he crooned, ducking down to brush his lips over yours. You let an airy moan escape you, sliding a hand around his neck to pull him closer. He grinned something wicked against your lips, game abandoned as he slotted himself against you. “You’re my girl.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Yukhei—no, if anything, you trusted him too much. The real issue was that you didn’t trust these other bitches. Yukhei could flaunt your relationship as much as he wanted, could walk around with your name across his chest, but that wouldn’t stop mean and desperate girls from throwing themselves at him. They’d use any chance they’d get to entice him, which is exactly why you’d begged him not to go smoke with his friends one night. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, halfway through tugging his hoodie over his head. After an enjoyable evening tangled in the sheets with you, his best friend in the entire world, Mark Lee, had invited him out to smoke. ‘With the usual gang,’ had been his words, and Yukhei being the pothead that he was, instantly agreed. 

You sighed, tugging the sheets to your chest as you sat up. “Well, is she gonna be there?” You grumbled, not trying to hide your annoyance that well. Yukhei blinked. 

“Are you talking about that girl again?” You pursed your lips, avoiding his gaze. Yukhei snorted, and you yelped as he flopped back down on the bed to envelope you in his arms. “Baby, I’m crazy about you, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, covering your face with your hands, as if he hadn’t seen you completely naked fifteen minutes before. “I know,” you sighed, though it came out more like a whine. “But she wants to fuck you! I know she does.”

Yukhei ignores you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. Begrudgingly, you wrap your arms around his soft form, the pout on your face slowly fading. It’s the sweet and romantic side of him, the one he usually hides from his friends, that melts your resolve. A sudden nip at your collarbone brings you out of your rosy vision. 

“Babe, stooop,” you whine, your inner Sammi from Jersey Shore jumping out. “My calves still hurt.”

“Chiiiill,” he murmurs against the skin of your neck, plush lips caressing the skin. With each soft kitten lick he gives, you feel yourself slowly melt into the mattress below you. “Lemme take care of you,” he proposes, and as much as you want to protest, the hand that snakes its way between the two of you sucks the words from your mouth. 

“S-Sensitive,” you say instead, head lolling onto the pillows as Yukhei’s deft fingers rub small circles against your clit. He hums against your skin, carefully taking note of each tremble your thighs give, and the gasps that catch in your throat. 

After he’s done ravishing your throat and your orgasm is creeping up on you for the second time that night, he juts his chin up to meet your gaze. “You did so well tonight, baby,” he praises right before he slots his mouth against yours. “Rode me so good, fuck, you looked so pretty for me.” You reminisce on the grueling work out riding your boyfriend had been, the guiding hands on your waist the only help he’d provided. 

Another whimper escapes you, right before Yukhei does his signature move (the one he’d claimed about a week ago), which was slowing down all movements, letting your orgasm build, before giving your clit one final flick that sent you crashing through your own bliss. 

After you’ve received your second orgasm of the night, and you’re feeling especially pampered, Yukhei kisses you on the lips sweetly and scampers off to meet his friends. 

Afterwards, you’re feeling a little bad about trying to limit his outings because of your own raging jealousy. Yukhei was your boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you had to keep an iron grip on him. He was his own free person; a goofy soul who needed social interaction more than others. For you to keep him on a leash because of some unproven theory was wrong. 

You’re still feeling pretty sour, but that all changes when you do your usual nightly Snapchat sweep. Your swiping through snaps of your classmates and friends, crying over projects or complaining about jobs, when the one and only Mark Lee’s story pops up next. Nothing unusual, just him blowing smoke into the camera while some cheesy RnB music plays on the radio of someone’s car. In fact, everything’s fine until you click right, and are met with a three second snap of a particular group shot, the entire right side of the camera frame taken up by Yukhei’s lean figure and one scheming Rohei wrapped around him. 

You click your phone off, calmly set it to the side, and fall asleep. 

You don’t mention it to Yukhei. For some reason, there’s this annoying voice in the back of your head telling you Yukhei should tell you on his own. After all, you had been having an internal battle on whether you were too protective or not, and going off on him for something that could just be a minor instance would only prove that. 

There’s another big frat party this weekend, and though you usually go with your friends, Yukhei invites you to come with him this time. You can’t say no, especially with the way half of his smile gets hidden by the pillow he’s pressed into. He looks so soft and sweet, you find yourself peppering him in kisses as you agree. 

You don a pretty dress you’d bought that week, a tight little number that accentuates your figure. Right as you bend over to strap your heels into place, you hear a low whistle from the bathroom door. 

“Baby,” Yukhei whines, hands slowly gliding around your waist from behind. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he huffs, nose pressed against the side of your head. You giggle, leaning back to meet his dark gaze. As if the wolf whistle wasn’t enough, he adds, “I’m gonna bend you over and fuck that pretty little pussy.”

Your jaw drops open, and you playfully slap his hands away. “Yukhei!” You scold, strutting across the room to grab your cell phone and his keys. You ignore his gaze as you go about collecting yourself, and when you’re waiting for him at the door, you say, “who says I’m gonna let you?”

The night goes similarly to that encounter, Yukhei’s eyes trailing you wherever you go. It’s like he refuses to look away from you, from the way your hips sway to the music and the way your collarbones glisten with the thinnest sheen of sweat. Even when he’s settled down in the den for a quick session with his boys, his eyes find their way back to where you’re chattering with your friends right outside the door. 

With each hit, his dark eyes become hazier and hazier. But he also becomes bolder and bolder, sinful pink tongue swiping across his lips as he eye fucks you for the entire world to see. Your friends giggle at your boyfriend’s behavior, and then scramble away when they see his tall figure come swaggering towards the doorway. You presume they’re done with their session for now, everyone parting ways. 

“You come here often?” He croons, and your lips press together in an effort to hold back the ridiculously dopey smile threatening to take over your features. 

“Every now and then,” you respond, easily falling into his little game. It ends up consisting of him babbling out every pick-up line he knows until you’re giggling and falling into him. He’s not exempt from the goofy smile you wear, staring down at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the night sky. 

After a particularly corny comment, he leans down and accidentally knocks your foreheads together. “Come back to my place, baby. I promise I can treat you better than anyone ever has.” Cherry ready lips ghost over your own. 

You hum in response, dizzy from your boyfriend’s flirty behavior. “I don’t know,” you joke, tilting your head up slightly, enough so that you upper lip brushes against his. “My boyfriend wouldn’t like that.”

“Smart guy,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Seriously, though,” he says, suddenly more sober than he’s been in the past few hours. “I told you I was gonna fuck your pretty little brains out tonight, remember?”

His vulgarity strikes a chord within you, and you find yourself pressing your legs together. But Yukhei is nothing if not observant, his hands tracing down your side until it’s snaked its way around to rest upon the swell of your ass. He knows he’s already won you over for the night, so he presses a quick kiss to you lips before scampering off to tell his friends he’s off. Nows as good a time as ever for you to do the same. 

You nonchalantly stride back over towards where all your friends have congregated this time, telling them you’ve decided to turn in for the night. Them being your friends obviously know that you’re not heading home to sleep, but rather to get fucked into another dimension. You don’t deny nor confirm their claims, instead leaving them with a coy smile that has them up in hoots as you walk away. 

Normally, Yukhei is able to find you in a crowed party easily enough—being tall has its undeniable perks—so you’ve never really been the one searching around for him. But you remember his current state, how he’d stumbled over his words and how his long legs seemed to be working of their own accord tonight. You decide the safest option is to find him yourself, because a high Yukhei tends to have the attention span of a child. 

It doesn’t take long to find the group of guys he’s usually around, Mark Lee’s newly dyed blonde hair particularly standing out to you. They all greet you in the polite way that is customary for a fellow bro’s girlfriend, and you do the same. You turn towards Mark, “where’s Yukhei?”

Mark’s brows furrow together in confusion. “He said he was gonna look for you, actually,” he answers, and you find yourself as confused as him. 

“When was this exactly?” You press, a weird feeling settling in your gut. 

Mark’s lips quirk to the side, eyes drifting around the kitchen as he seems to try to recall when he’d last seen your boyfriend. In the end, he can only offer you a half-assed shrug and an unsure, “ten minutes ago?”

You end up thanking Mark, as well as bidding him adieu, before continuing your search for Yukhei. As you’d mentioned before, he rarely had trouble finding you in crowded areas, always gravitating towards you like a magnet. It was weird that it’d taken him this long, even weirder if he’d actually been stoned enough to have forgotten or strayed away. 

You pass by the beautiful oak study built into this frat house, and almost completely dismiss it had you not caught sight of sudden movement inside. Gently, you push open the glass paneled doors, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark room. 

“Baby,” you hear your boyfriend say. You sigh in relief, thanking god that Yukhei wasn’t lost, just dumb. You glance around for a light switch, only for your eyes to stumble upon the frame of one very out of place figure. Your brow twitches, and had you not been sheathed in darkness, you’re sure she would have seen the way your entire expression changed. 

A movement to her left finally alerts you of where Yukhei is in this dark room, and you don’t hesitate to make your way towards him. Suddenly, you have the vision of the stealthiest nightcrawler as you absorb every detail of this situation. 

The first one is Rohei’s frame, curled up beside Yukhei far enough that she isn’t touching him but close enough she can probably see the swell of his plush upper lip. The second is the vulnerable state of Yukhei’s body, a dab pen clutched between his fingers that definitely isn't his. The third and most telling factor has to be the annoyed expression on her face, similar to your own. 

Oh this bitch was definitely up to something. 

“Babe,” you say, calmer than a retail employee dealing with a stuck-up customer, “we’re supposed to be leaving.”

Yukhei nods, fast and cute like a puppy, but these circumstances make you want to strangle him. “Of course of course, baby, Rohei was just telling me about this new pen flavor!” As if on cue, Rohei smiles sweetly at you, curling just the slightest bit closer to your boyfriend. “I know you really like the watermelon one, so I was wondering if she knew any other good fruity ones.”

You flash her the fakest smile you can muster, and in his state, Yukhei doesn’t seem to notice. “That’s nice,” you play along, eyes burning into her like laser beams. “But I’d really like to get going before it gets darker out.” You tug Yukhei’s arm, his body following you to rise off the couch. 

Right before his ass can leave the cushion, there’s a sudden force being exerted on his other side that has him falling backwards. Your eyes widen, but then narrow into slits when you finally see what had stopped him from leaving with you. Your met with two perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his forearm, attached to the same girl you told Yukhei you didn’t trust. 

“But we were just beginning to talk!” she whines, flashing you an innocent pout that lets you know she knows exactly what she’s doing. You feel your insides boil. “We were having a good little chat, weren’t we, Lu?”

“Lu?” You humph, eyes flickering between her face and Yukhei’s. 

He shrugs, too dazed by the lights sweeping through the open door to really focus on the situation at hand. “She calls me by my American name, baby, remember it?” He beams, not at either of you, but at some invisible object in the air only he seems to be aware of. 

“Yes,” you seethe, “That’s nice and all, but wouldn’t your talk be better when you can actually remember it?” You try, hand gliding from his wrist to his palm to tangle your fingers together. “Let’s get you home now.”

She scoffs, not releasing her grip on his forearm even the slightest bit. “Don’t be a prude, ___,” she spits, “he’s having a good time with me right now, can’t you see.”

Your eyebrows raise at her sudden and rude comment, and you find yourself providing a quick rebuttal. “He’s having a good time because he’s high right now, you’re not that special.” 

“Really now,” she laughs, every bit of malicious intent in her tone. “I’m sure that’s why he always goes out of his way to sit next to me during rotations, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably because you take weak, short ass hits, and he knows that.”

"Not because he knows my mouth was there already?” She fights back. “You know my lip gloss looks real cute on him when he goes after me.”

The fact irks you, and you add it to the list of questioning you need to do later. For now, you’re not about to lose to this girl. “I don’t really care if he sits by you, honey,” you reply, finally gathering enough strength to pull Yukhei off and away from her. “Just know that those same lips that hit the blunt right before you are the same ones that ate my pussy twenty minutes earlier,” you smirk, watching as first the shock and then the humiliation washes over her face. 

You throw Yukhei’s arm over you shoulder, staggering towards the doorway as you leave a stunned Rohei behind. “And another thing,” you call out, not even bothering to look at her. “Stop going after my fucking boyfriend.”

As you and Yukhei stumble out of the house, leaving the loud music, alcohol, and weed behind, you realize how warm your face had become during the verbal altercation, turning the air on full blast once you get inside Yukhei’s car. He says nothing as he settles in the passenger seat, letting you drive the short distance to the student apartment he’d been assigned at the beginning of his junior year. 

You’re pulling up on the club when he finally regains power over his tongue. 

“Mean,” he mumbles as you guide him up the stairs until you reach the third floor. 

“Huh?” You say, unlocking his door and ushering him inside. You abandon your shoes by the door, keeping note of his whereabouts as he stumbles around his home. He ultimately crashes on the couch, staring at you with glazed over, red eyes. 

“That was mean,” he repeats, and you raise an eyebrow in confusion. He elaborates. “You didn’t have to be so mean towards Rohei,” he yawns, tugging a throw pillow onto his chest to hug. “She was just being nice, s’all.”

You blink. 

The anger you’d felt towards Rohei seemed overwhelming to you when you encountered her, but it was nothing but a candle flame to the sheer amount of fury that enveloped you now. “Being nice?” You calmly repeat, and Yukhei nods. “Oh, so taking your high as fuck ass to an empty room during a party is being nice now? Flirting with you and touching you in front of my face—that’s being nice?” You splutter.

“Chill out,” Yukhei huffs, sitting up in the slowest manner possible. “We were just smoking,” he mumbles, flashing you an unimpressed glare. 

You snort, tossing his keys on the coffee table to cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah, I know. She loved telling me how her lip gloss looks on you, Yukhei.”

If he wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now as he sits up on the sofa. “Come on now,” he snaps, “you know better than anyone how your little lip gloss sticks to the paper, don’t act stupid now, ____.”

Something snaps inside you, and you whirl directly to face him in anger. “Don’t fucking call me stupid when I’m rightfully mad at you for flirting with other girls.” 

“Rightfully, my ass,” he retorts, tugging his jacket off to throw it over the couch. “She was right, you’re a fuckin’ prude.”

It’s as if every single alarm goes off in your head, eyes narrowed in absolute fury (though it doesn’t stop the water from collecting on your waterline). “If you agree with her so much, then why don’t you invite her over and fuck her brains out tonight, Yukhei,” you spit.

He rolls his eyes, “maybe I fucking should. Probably fucks better than you anyway.”

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” you rasp out, hands balling into fists beside you. 

Yukhei simply flops back onto the sofa, ignoring you even as you stomp back to the entryway with tears in your eyes to put your shoes on. If he says anything  else, you don’t hear it past the thudding of your heart in your throat or the slam of the door behind you. 

There’s not much for you to do then other than stomp your way home in the dark and cold of night, tears blurring your vision on the entire trek back. It’s only as your swiping your ID to unlock the building that you realize you’d left your phone at Yukhei’s, but you’re feeling too humiliated to go back. You settle on washing your makeup off, and tugging your favorite loungewear on (of course, it’s just a pair of shorts and Yukhei’s t-shirt) before moping all night. 

There’s a knock on your door early the next morning that rouses you from what was probably the deepest slumber you’d had in months. It has you shaking the drowsiness away as you try to remember what awoke you in the first place. The knocking continues and you lazily slump off the bed and stumble towards the door. 

There’s a devastatingly handsome man at the door, nothing like his high counterpart that had left you a sobbing mess last night, presenting you with your forgotten phone and an apologetic frown. 

“Hey,” Yukhei murmurs, and you sniff in response, too tired and sleepy to greet him back. “I brought you your phone,” he says, as if you hadn’t already noticed. You snatch it out of his hand. “And I just wanted to—”

You let the door shut in his face, and for a moment all is silent. A second later, and your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest again, the same overwhelming sense of heartbreak you’d dealt with all last night taking a hold of you again. At the same time, the knob begins rattling like crazy, your boyfriend’s desperate voice breaching through the door. 

“Baby, please, I didn’t mean anything last night,” he pleads, the raw emotion noticeable even through the wooden door. “I was high and so fucking stupid, and I know that’s not an excuse but I-I didn’t mean any of it, please,” he begs, and a soft thud against the door leaves you wondering if he’s leaning on it. 

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest, every shaky inhale leaving your throat feeling more and more constricted. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to well up with yesterday’s leftover tears, but you’ll be damned if this dumb ass makes you cry two days in a row. 

Another soft knock pulls you out of the deep hole you’ve dug within yourself. “Please,” Yukhei rasps out, voice oh so vulnerable, “just open the door, baby.”

You tug the door open, narrowing him with the most furious glare you can muster through your watery gaze. “Don’t call me that,” you spit, and you hope he can see how hurt he’s left you. 

“___...” he says, slowly reaching a hand out towards you, one you brush away before turning to head further into your dorm. You plop down on the edge of your bed, turning your phone on to see it’s down to the last quarter of its battery. Yukhei shuffles in, shutting the door behind him before awkwardly hovering over you. 

He doesn’t say much, just plops down on the perfectly made bunk across from you (your roommate has been gone abroad all semester). You start toying around on your phone, watching from the corner of your eye as he plays with the ruby red comforter beneath him, all the while sneakily glancing your way, almost as if he’s unsure if he can even do as much. 

After a couple minutes of awkward silence, you decide to face your fears head on. “So how was Rohei last night?” You murmur, eyes zeroing in on your fuzzy sock-clad toes. Yukhei lets out a harsh exhale, and when you glance up at him, he meets your glare head on. 

“Baby,” he says, soft and slow, in that same tone he uses when he thinks he’s right and he won’t leave until you say otherwise. “I didn’t mean what I said last night, and you know it. I was way out of it and—”

“Shut up,” you spit, unable to contain the annoyance from curling around your voice. “Just say you’re fucking sorry instead of trying to blame this on everything else, Yukhei.”

He blinks, doe eyes comically wide as he takes in your sudden outburst. You take his silence as a sign to continue. “Stop trying to say it was because you were high or drunk or whatever the fuck you were and just say it like it is.” Your chest heaves as a huff escapes you. 

“Calm down,” he says when he regains his wits, “you know better than anyone that I would never say that to you normally, I was just really faded and shocked from all the yelling you were doing.”

“That doesn’t matter, Yukhei!” You burst, hands flailing as the frustration builds inside of you. “You said it, which means you obviously thought it before—”

“I didn’t!” He counters, voice as loud as yours. “It slipped out in the heat of the moment, it was an accid—”

“Oh, everything you said was by accident then? Calling me stupid and a prude? That was all just an accident?”

“It fucking was! Don’t act like you’re not the same way when you’re high. You let any and every guy hang off of you, but suddenly the one time I do it it’s a problem?” He snorts, brows furrowed dangerously close. 

You scoff, your chest feeling tighter and tighter with each passing second. “Don’t you dare turn this on me, Yukhei, because I’ve never said I’d rather be with someone else,” you spit, your words seemingly slowing his defensive attacks. Your traitorous eyes flood with tears. “High or no—,” you mean to end with, but your voice cracks as a sob escapes through your throat. 

You look away in shame, covering your face with your hand. It takes everything in you to stop your frame from shaking because you know he’s watching you with those big sad eyes of his. 

You’ve always been unnecessarily weak when it came to Yukhei, his smile just too bright for your heart and the way he’d softly call out baby making every bone in your body weak. You were too much of a pushover, always won over by his charming words and his talented fingers. Even now, as you feel the bed dip beside you, you don’t hesitate to throw yourself into his arms and let your sobs overtake you. 

His hand rubs against your back as he softly shushes you, murmuring, “I’m sorry,” over and over into your hair. You cry out all the tears from last night and then some. Faintly, from your spot pressed against his chest, you can hear the thundering of his heartbeat and know it matches your own. His fingers continue their dance over your skin, gently massaging your scalp before tracing along your spine, ever so softly and gently. 

“I’m sorry,” he says when your sobs have been reduced to sniffles. “I was stupid, and should have thought about what I said before I said it.” He pauses, and you pull away from your safe spot nestled in his arms to meet his forlorn gaze. “Honestly, I think I was just trying to say whatever I could to hurt you,” he admits, his glazed eyes looking down. The tip of his nose is red and you know it’s taking everything in him to not cry with you. 

Your soft spot for Yukhei is nothing compared to the weakness he has for you. 

He repeats his apology a third time, ducking his head to bump your foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut as he takes in your presence. You sniffle once more before tilting closer to brush your mouth against his. The shaky exhale he releases against you has you melting into his embrace, the fingers that had been clutching to his biceps for dear life, slowly relaxing. 

He gently eases you onto your bed, lips departing from yours to trail down your neck, pressing his knee between your spread thighs. One of his hands glides from its position on your shoulder to cradle the underside of your thigh, tugging it upwards until you’ve thrown it around his waist. The gesture has your bodies pressing closer, cores aligned. 

“You don’t have to,” you murmur when you feel his cold fingers creep beneath your top, dancing along your skin. 

He presses a peck to your collarbone. “I do,” he responds, and you jump when his fingers brush against the underside of your breast. “Have to show you how much I love you.”

Your heart swells, and you find your hands reaching up to tangle in his dark brown locks, the pretty blonde color he’d had when you first met now completely gone. The memory has you thinking back even further in time, to your lazy days spent working the movie theater over the summer, when he’d been just a silly work crush, to the first time you’d hung out and he taught you how to smoke. The rose-tinted glasses in which you view all these memories with him has you murmuring out the words back to him. 

He wastes no time tugging your little shorts off, leaving you clad in just heart-patterned undies that have Yukhei muffling a snort into your shoulder. “You’re so fucking cute, baby,” he croons, letting one lone finger trace along your slit. 

You whimper, thighs quivering as you watch him tease and toy with you until you’re begging him to fuck you already. “But you’re not stretche-”

“Please,” you whine, cupping his cheeks in your palms, “I need you so bad.”

He caves without much of a fight, leaning back onto his haunches to tug himself out of his grey sweatpants. The sight of his slowly plumping cock has you salivating like a dog, and before he leans over you again, you press a palm to his chest. 

He blinks, big brown eyes staring at you in confusion. “What?” You pinch the fabric of his shirt between two fingers, pulling it back, before letting it fall into place again. Yukhei snorts, “oh,” and with one hand, tugs his shirt over his head. The movement gives you a delicious view of his muscles in action, and you feel yourself grow impossibly wetter. 

With the material finally out of the way, he reaches down to tug your panties to the side, giving him the perfect view of your throbbing center. He doesn’t bother to line himself up, just grabs his cock in his hand before plunging it where he knows it should go. He doesn’t waste any time, bottoming out in the first go.

Your toes curl, hands wildly gripping onto whatever they can—the pillow, the comforter, his hair—until they settle on digging into his shoulders. He grinds his hips, leaning down to place his palms on the bed on either side of your head. You proximity allows you to wrap your arms around his neck, but you also use it to press a soft kiss to his jaw. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, finally pulling his hips back until only the head of his dick is sheathed inside you. He stays like that for a second, before thrusting back in full force. “You’re so perfect, baby,” he tells you, repeating the action over and over again. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I ever lost you.”

You moan, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his shoulders. You choke out another moan, his speed picking up and rendering you speechless afterwards. A particular hard thrust has you groaning in pleasure, a hoarse shout of “fuck!” leaving your lips. 

Yukhei huffs, hot breath fanning across your face. “You like that?” He taunts, snapping his hips forward, clapping his skin against yours. You nod, hands falling limp as they slide off his shoulders. “Tell me how much you like it, baby.”

Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth as you struggle to find the words. The drag of his cock against your pussy walls making you draw a blank. “I-I-I love it,” you gasp, the hands that slid off his form a moment ago limply wrapping around his waist. Your head rolls to the left, and you press a chaste kiss to his wrist. “Fuuuck,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasure enveloping you. “Yu-Yukhei,” you cry, though he doesn’t slow down to hear you. “I love you,” you babble, and then say it another two times for good measure. 

He huffs out a chuckle at your mindless state, finally slowing his hips. He begins gently rocking against you, one hand snaking down to toy with your clit. You cry out again, every part of your being feeling so sensitive. “I love you too, baby,” he murmurs, the tip of his pointer finger tracing circles around your clit. Right as you’re about to climax, he pulls that goofy signature move of his and halts everything, letting you hang of the precipice before giving your clit one final caress. 

Your orgasm has you babbling even more nonsense, from how much you love him to how good he fucks, to a randomly thrown in “and fuck you, rohei” that has him smiling against your jawline where he’s been pressing kisses. 

Your body feels featherlight afterwards, and you almost fall asleep had Yukhei not begin shallowly thrusting in you again. You’re reminded of his pleasure, and you reach a hand up to cradle his face as he continues rutting against you. “So good, baby,” you purr, eyes hazy with love and euphoria as you watch him. He smirks at the usage of your pet name against him, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. 

“You’re usually not a—a dirty talker,” he mumbles, looking away from you for a second to watch how his length plunges into your dripping hole. 

“I can be,” you murmur, you thighs twitching as a result of your oversensitivity. “For you.”

Yukhei snorts. “Yeah?” You nod. “Talk me through it then, baby,” he teases. 

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain a smile, but it still shines through. “Anything for you, baby,” you play along, finally letting go of his face to trace your hand down his abdomen, until it’s rested right above his pelvis. “You really outdid yourself this time,” you murmur, watching how his dick disappears inside of you. “You love fucking me when I cry, don’t you?” 

“You know it, baby,” he responds, flashing you that wicked smirk of his. 

Your laugh trails off into a light moan, and you can’t tell if the wetness you feel is from your own come or a new wave of arousal. “Ugh, I can’t,” you whine, your resolve weakening as you watch him shallowly thrust into you. Your boyfriend laughs, tightens his grip on your waist, and then pushes further in. Your eyes roll back, but you snap them open when you catch sight of your stomach. 

Something pokes up through your skin, and aside from the initial fear and confusion that’d caused your eyes to fly wide open, your entire body tingles anew when you realize it’s Yukhei’s huge cock bulging through your skin. 

“Fuck, baby,” your traitorous tongue starts, eyes hazy as you watch him move beneath your skin. “You’re so fucking big you can see it.”

If you were surprised, Yukhei is completely awestruck at the sight, his body moving as if under a trance as he watches the way his cock makes your skin bulge. Right before you can start babbling like a dumb ass, Yukhei reaches his hand down to cup over your mouth. “Just shut up for a second,” he warns, and suddenly, begins picking up his pace at the same angle. 

Each thrust has his cock pushing up into your tummy, and you moan and whine under his hand as your second orgasm builds inside of you. “Jesus, fuck,” Yukhei spits, eyes wild as he fucks for himself, completely disregarding you. “Look at my fucking cock inside of you.”

His hand stays firmly clamped over your mouth, your only airway available being your nose, so you find yourself huffing and gasping for breath. Yukhei doesn’t notice, his movements growing sloppier and more out of rhythm the closer he gets to his own orgasm, until finally he lets you go. He doesn’t give you a second to catch your breath though, as he shoves his tongue down your throat. 

Suddenly, he freezes, and you can feel his hot seed coating your walls as he groans into your mouth. The sensation of your pussy being so deliciously full of both your pleasures has something inside you snapping, and a second wave of euphoria crashes over you. Your toes curl, and his name falls from your mouth like a mantra, before eventually the both of you fall numb and silent. 

You regain your wits first, reaching a hand up to gently card at his hair, humming a tune as he catches his breath. You think he’s fallen asleep, when suddenly he leans back to look at your worn out features, and says, “did you see my cock, baby?”

You snort, and push his face away from you, much to his amusement. “Yeah, I felt it,” you murmur, and hiss when he pulls out of you, momentarily staring at your overflowing and abused hole.

He groans at the sight. “God, I can't wait to get you pregnant.”

“What?!”

[feynavaley]

i'm not the same anon who asked about chronic illnesses and such but i decided to ask anyway -- do you have any mental health headcanons for any of the FACE family?

Thank you so much for this question, it’s a very interesting one! I also have to admit that this is a topic I’m quite hesitant to tackle, however, as I’m not an expert and I don’t want to dismiss or oversimplify complex and sensitive matters with careless words. That said, I can certainly talk about what my impressions from the manga are! Hope it all makes sense. 😊

First of all, I must make a specification: nations aren’t humans. Just like their bodies and healing rate are different from those of a human, the same goes for their brain and mental health. I often see people complaining that, for having lived through so many hardships and tragedies, personifications shouldn’t be as well-adjusted and cheerful as they are generally portrayed in the manga. I disagree with this. I think that if the manga tends to portray personifications in a certain way, that’s how they are. And the fact they aren’t weighed down by their past is, once again, due to the fact they aren’t humans. Think about it for a moment: we – humans – aren’t mentally and psychologically meant for immortality. After a bit, we just would collapse under the weight of everything we went through. Personifications, instead, are born to be immortal. Therefore, I’m also convinced that they have a different brain biology, different neural pathways – different ways to process memories and withstand trauma that make them more resilient. In short, unlike many people, I don’t think personifications suffer from PTSD or MDD by default.

—

Now, back to the characters you asked me about. I would be hesitant to ‘diagnose’ them with specific mental health issues, but I can see some things they would struggle with.

I’ll start with Canada because I think he’s the easiest one. It’s canon that he has awfully low self-esteem and sense of self-worth in general. Based on his interactions with other people, I would say he also has very high anxiety levels. (Social anxiety, in particular.) He wants to make a good impression but he feels like he never knows how to behave and ends up being awkward and self-conscious, he’s afraid of what others might think of him and he wants to please everybody and berates himself a lot for the fact he doesn’t… his not feeling worthy of other people’s time and attention (feeling like he has to do something to earn it) doesn’t help. I don’t know if Canada’s anxiety could be bad enough to be officially diagnosed or give him real anxiety/panic attacks, but it certainly has a significative impact on his relationships, holding him back a lot. Tied to his self-worth issues, I can also easily see him falling into the mindset of the impostor syndrome. (Since he feels like he isn’t good enough, when somebody claims he is, Canada thinks he has deceived them.) I also headcanon him suffering from some psychosomatic issues due to the fact he tends to bottle up negative emotions to avoid conflict. In spite of this, Canada manages to keep a positive outlook that pushes him forwards. He doesn’t cry over himself but keeps doing his best to improve. I wouldn’t say this is completely healthy (after all, he wants to improve so much because he feels like he isn’t enough) nor that he never has a breakdown, but his mental health issues aren’t (generally) so severe as to prevent him from going on with his life.

England also suffers from self-worth issues that he, instead, hides under a self-deprecating humour. He asks a lot out of himself and he’s a perfectionist to a level that isn’t healthy. He works as hard as he can in order to rise above others and looks down upon those who don’t work as hard in order to try to assert his confidence, but deep down, he will never believe he’s truly good enough. Moreover, the neglect he suffered during his childhood means he has a hard time developing healthy relationships. He’s mistrustful and hesitant because he’s afraid of getting hurt, but he also ends up feeling extremely lonely and isolated, which weighs a lot on him. He’s also unable to process his emotions in a healthy way, he bottles up and denies his feelings and ends up lashing out at people. Once again, England’s struggles aren’t bad enough to prevent him from going on with his normal life, but they make an impact. He has a pessimistic overview of everything and always sees a problem behind each corner, it’s very hard for him to be happy and satisfied.

As for France… with his melancholic personality, France actually is the character I can see suffering from minor depressive episodes when he finds himself in particularly bad spots. He does his best not to let this win over him, but there are moments he truly sees everything bleak and experiences nothing but despair. It’s particularly bad if he’s alone, and this is partly why France’s almost unable to stay without anybody. His constant need to be surrounded by people also partially stems from the fact he’s an extrovert and likes company, but he does tend to carry it a bit too far. His need to be liked by everybody can also cross the boundary of unhealthy. France wants to believe in himself and he tries to convince himself that he has a healthy self-esteem, but deep down, he has a lot of insecurities he doesn’t want to deal with. People not liking him always make those seeds of self-doubt resurface, he can’t shrug it off so easily. Aside from the first one, however, the others are fairly minor issues. Compared to many others, France is a fairly well-adjusted individual. And I think that the fact he doesn’t deny his emotions but instead deals with them plays a big part in this.

I think America is decently well-adjusted as well. He’s such an optimistic character, always able to find a positive spin in everything and focus on the opportunities each situation gives him instead of the drawbacks… if anything, I would say that his main problem is that his self-confidence is a bit too high and he’s too self-centred, but neither reach truly worrisome levels. America does have some issues, though. I’m thinking about attachment issues, in particular. America feels lonely and unappreciated, which makes him latch very tightly to people he’s close to. Moreover, due to what happened with England and Canada, part of him is afraid people are going to leave him so he turns possessive and clingy to avoid it. He also carries protectiveness to an annoying level. He backs off and apologizes if somebody makes him notice his wrong behaviour, though.

Now, I want to address another thing about America as this is a very widespread headcanon: I’m firmly convinced America doesn’t have an eating disorder in canon. First of all, I don’t think America has the right mindset for it. An eating disorder isn’t only an issue of body image, but a manifestation of deeper insecurities America has never displayed to such extents. Yes, it’s true that he tried many diets (without ever being able to commit to one). However, America’s wish to lose weight wasn’t tied to body image issues, but to health concerns. At a point, America realized he ‘weighed too much’. I have no trouble believing he could be at least slightly overweight according to the BMI: he isn’t slight-boned – which means he will always be more on the higher side of the BMI – and he has very developed muscles, which weigh a lot more than fat. In fact, many athletes would be classified as overweight if this weren’t taken into account. However, America wasn’t aware of that and he just thought he was overweight. Which does pose health concerns. America has never wanted to be thinner to look better, he just wanted to lose weight to be healthier. I’m so sure of this because it was explicitly stated in the manga. [x]

Had it been an eating disorder, America wouldn’t have stopped dieting once he had realized his weight wasn’t actually unhealthy. It isn’t so simple. But he did, which means the entire problem was rooted in a concern for his health, not a body image issue.

—

Since I envision the mental health struggles more tied to the characters’ personalities than historical events, I generally would headcanon them being the same in a human AU as well. Of course, the backstory of each character – their formative years, in particular – should be tailored to justify those struggles.

I have already talked about how picture things for Francis [x] and Matthew [x].

In Arthur’s case, I imagine him having a hard childhood and growing up in a quite dysfunctional family. Whether his parents mean it or not (maybe, because there’s a single parent with four children), Arthur ends up being often brushed aside and growing up without the support he would need. (If not with outright scorned and looked down upon by emotionally and verbally abusive parents.)

As for Alfred, I can picture his attachment issues coming from him having lived through the loss of an important person in his childhood (or also missing a parent, maybe). He never completely processes it, and whether he realizes it or not, this makes him more afraid than what would be normal of losing the other people he cares for.