#“generally” being the operative word here

[mariasont]

i have a fic request what about like bimbo assistant reader x hotch and they go for like a team night out or something and ofc reader wears something cute and probably a tad bit too short and maybe she sees one of her friends or just dances with one of the bau girls and hotch just watches from the booth and his jaw is literally on the floor and the guys are trying to have a conversation with him and he’s just completely unaware of what’s happening around him

Red Flags & Pink-Colored Glasses - A.H

summary: hotch shouldn't be at this bar, shouldn't be watching you while you dance in that too-short dress and he definitely shouldn't be the one trying to teach you a lesson about bad men, not when he's fighting every instinct to be one. pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader warning tags: alcohol consumption (reader is tipsy, hotch is suffering), pre-relationship pining, mentions of past toxic relationships, protective!hotch, jealously/protectiveness, accidental touching, repressed feelings, hotch contemplating murder wc: 2.2k

Hotch could lie to himself and pretend he had no idea how he ended up here, but that would be exactly that, a lie.

He knew.

It was because you had asked him, bright-eyed, voice melting like white chocolate on his tongue, and something long disciplined into obedience had caved. At some point along the path of your employment, he had come to realize he had developed this inexplicable inability to deny you.

He had agreed to one drink. Technically, he was keeping his word. Said first drink was sitting half-full on the table, a thin line of amber liquid sloshing against the sides every time he gripped it too hard. Two hours had passed and he was still here, still planted in this booth, still convincing himself he wasn't waiting for something he shouldn't want.

He knew he should leave. He could leave. He had every capability. His legs worked just fine and his willpower had seen him through worse (I mean, for gods sake, he worked with you everyday). But he also knew there wasn't a chance in hell he was walking out that door when you were still on that dance floor.

Not because he didn't trust you. Of course, he trusted you. He trusted JJ and Emily and Garcia, too, though that didn’t stop his jaw from locking up every time one of them spun you, making your dress rise higher on your thighs. And being a profiler came with its downfalls, one of them the acute, inescapable awareness of how every single man in this bar had their eyes on you.

On your legs. Your thighs. Your hips. Your breasts. Your ass.

He knew how they thought and how they operated and worse than that, he knew he was acting no different. Because his own gaze had been glued to you all night.

And he hated that. Hated that his pulse kicked up whenever you laughed, that his fingers itched to tug that dress a little lower, that he had half a mind to send every single one of those men home in body bags.

Hotch exhaled before tipping his glass against his lips, the drink was barely cold anymore, the bite of alcohol dulled from where the ice had long since melted, not that it mattered, not that he noticed.

You were swaying your hips now, and he shouldn't be watching you, especially not like this. Not with this lump that was screwing up tightly in his throat, with some part of him wanting to abandon reason entirely and just pull you back down into the booth beside him where he could keep you sedentary.

Physics had a rule for this, right? An object in motion stays in motion. Sounds about right.

It took him a second to process a voice piercing through his thoughts. Morgan. Talking. Right. He should probably be listening.

He blinked, refocusing. He could see Morgan’s mouth moving. Could hear the general cadence of a conversation happening, but not a single word was registering.

And then Morgan laughed. "Man, you're not even pretending to listen."

Hotch blinked, forcing himself to look away from you long enough to level them with a stare. "What?"

Rossi gave him a look before leaning back, like he wasn't going to push the subject. "I still don't know how we managed to get you out tonight."

Mogan nodded. "Yeah, I was expecting the usual, grumbling about paperwork, maybe a half-hearted have fun before you disappeared like a ghost."

"I don't disappear," Hotch said flatly.

Rossi scoffed. "You do if we turn out heads for five seconds."

"Batman-style," Morgan agreed, grinning. "One minute you're there, and the next, gone. Poof."

"That's an exaggeration," Reid cut in. "Batman's disappearances rely on strategic misdirection, which, while impressive, aren't—"

"Not the point, kid."

Morgan turned back to Hotch, still grinning. "Point is, you're still here, and that's weird."

Rossi nodded, swirling his drink. "So what's the angle? Trying to prove us wrong? Or just waiting for us to stop paying attention so you can slip out the back?"

"That does seem like the more likely scenario," Reid mused.

Hotch signed, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. "Do you all spend this much time keeping tabs on each other's whereabouts, or am I just the lucky one tonight?"

"Oh, this is just for you, old man."

The conversation dissolved into static the second he caught the faintest whiff of your perfume. Some part of him recognized it immediately, sugar and flowers, something that had clung to his suit in phantom traces after too many hours spent near you. His pulse stalled. A fraction of a second where his body froze like it had learned, through painful repetition, to prepare for the inevitable distraction.

And then he saw you. All smiles, all tipsy giggles, flushed and glowing skin moving toward the table like some ridiculous vision, wrapped in pink and glitter with the careless beauty of someone who had never one second-guessed how easily they could command attention.

Hotch swore the rest of the room dimmed, reduced to shadows in his periphery and he had to forcibly remind himself to breathe because Christ, that dress was really that short, wasn't it?

You had a drink in your hand. And you looked happy. And warm. And a little unsteady on your heels.

The second your eyes found him, your whole face transformed, lit up like fireworks. Never mind that he had been here all night. Never mind that you had already waved at him enough times to make it clear you knew he existed. This time, apparently, counted more than the rest.

You waved. The motion sent your drink lurching dangerously in your hand, the liquid kissing the rim in protest, and before you could overcorrect, your heel tipped just enough that you stumbled, swaying too far to the right.

It wasn't much, just a little misstep, but it was enough to make Hotch move on instinct, his hand closing around your elbow guiding you into the booth beside him before either of you could think twice.

And then, because his life could never be easy, your dress slid up.

Just an inch, maybe two, of more thigh than should be visible. Nothing scandalous, just the kind of softness that could undo a man if he let it.

Hotch noticed. But then, so did someone else.

Some nameless stranger's eyes dragged, slow, audacious, a miscalculation he wouldn't be making again because Hotch's stare landed like a blade against his throat. Sharp and completely final. It was immediate that the same man was now finding the ceiling, the wall, the floor, anywhere but you, exceedingly fascinating.

Smart.

The second you're fully seated in the booth, you tip into him, like a magnet pulled to its inevitable counterpart. Your arm burns against his, the warmth of your skin creeping through fabric like a slow, smoldering fuse. He shouldn't let you, but he doesn't move, doesn't stop it, doesn't do anything but let it happen. 

Then as if you had any right to be this careless with him, you smile.

"Hi."

He should say something, should probably acknowledge the absurdity of how close you are, the way your perfume is now thick in his lungs, the way every fleck of light caught on your lashes, the shimmer scattered across your cheekbones like you'd been dipped in gold. He should ask why you wear it, how you do it, this thing where you make the prettiest parts of yourself even prettier.

He wants to do all these things but instead, because he's a coward, he just watches you. And when he finally forces a response, it comes out quieter than he intends.

"...Hi."

You hold your drink up between you. "You should try this. It's so good."

Hotch glanced down at it. It's the kind of drink that shouldn't exist outside of a beach vacation. Something red or pink or maybe orange, hard to tell under the low lights, undeniably fruity, he was sure. The kind that would probably leave him regretting his choices within minutes.

"No, thanks."

"Your loss," you mumble, as if you genuinely feel bad for him, then take a long sip, eyes fluttering shut like you're savoring the best thing you've ever tasted. "S'okay, more for me."

You glance at him, eyes still sparkling from whatever's buzzing in your bloodstream. "Are you having fun? 'Cause I'm having fun."

"I can tell."

You barely noticed how your drink wobbled under the careless placement of your elbow, or how your blinks stretched just a fraction too long, like your thoughts were floating somewhere just beyond your reach.

Hotch, however, did. "Do you want some water?"

Your pout deepened, your voice dipping into something vaguely petulant. "No, Hotch. I don't want water. Why would I want water?"

Before he could counter you, you moved, too loose-limbed, too uncoordinated, and suddenly your hand was on his thigh, gripping just a little too fight, fingers digging in for balance.

Hotch hissed under his breath, hands snapping to your waist before you could push this any further, intentionally or not.

"Okay, honey," he muttered, vocal chords strained. "C'mon."

Hotch kept you steady as he led you to the bar, your weight pressing into his side like you'd entirely abandoned the idea of walking on your own. By the time he handed you a water from the bartender, you squinted at it like it required advanced problem-solving.

"You're too nice to me."

Hotch sighed, rubbing a slow hand down his face. "If this is your definition of too nice, you've been dealing with the wrong men."

"Well, yeah." You took a sip of water then grinned like he had said something funny. "But I thought we'd already covered that."

Hotch's jaw locked. His grip on the bar tightened. Had he blacked out? Had there been a conversation where you casually admitted to dating the worst men alive?

"No." His eye twitched. "We didn't."

You pursed your lips, thinking. "Huh. Maybe I just thought you knew."

"That’s not really something I should just… know."

"I mean, I don't think it's that surprising."

"Why," he asked, each syllable carefully controlled, "would that not be surprising?"

"I don't know, Hotch. I mean, look at me."

He was. That was the problem.

"I'm not, like... super great at spotting red flags. I mostly think oh he's kinda mean but maybe he just had a bad day," you admitted, swirling your water with a little too much focus."You know, things like that."

Hotch inhaled sharply. Things like that. The thought of you sitting across from some guy, smiling, excusing his bullshit, convincing yourself he didn't mean to be cruel, made his stomach churn.

He wanted names. He wanted to know if any man had ever made you feel less than the goddamn sun, and if so, he wanted to make sure they never breathed the same air as you again. He wanted to show you. Show you how a man should look at you, should treat you.

But he wasn't that man.

Instead, he forced out an even voice. "You know that excusing bad behavior only teaches someone they can keep doing it right?" You titled your head, smiling up at him. "Mmm, yeah, that makes sense."

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Noted."

You blinked up at him. "Noted?"

"Yes. As in, we're going to talk about this again when you're sober enough to realize why what you just said was deeply concerning."

"But that doesn't sound fun."

Hotch's lips pressed into a straight line. "Neither does finding out you ignored a red flag because you liked a guy's smile."

Without warning, you reached up and placed a hand on his face, your fingertips pressing against his jaw as you studied him, way too close.

Hotch went completely still. "What are you—,"

"But you have a really great smile," you mumbled, squinting at him like this was some shocking new discovery, despite the fact, that he hadn't done anything remotely resembling a smile in the last ten minutes.

His jaw tensed beneath your touch, but he didn't pull away. His voice sounded different when he finally muttered your name.

You huffed, dragging your fingers down his cheek like he was some sort of sculpture you were admiring.

"You'd be worth it," you sighed dreamily. "I’d ignore so many red flags for you. So many."

Hotch felt like a man standing on a ledge, heart in his throat, knowing the drop was inevitable.

Your fingers were soft against his skin, moving far too slow, too easy, like you knew you could get away with it. All he wanted was to catch your wrist, drag you in, kiss you until you couldn't say things like that anymore. Until you have something real to ignore.

But that would be a mistake. A selfish, unforgivable mistake.

You needed to learn that some men didn't deserve saving, weren't worth the risk. That just because someone looked at you the way he did, ached for you the way he did, didn't mean they were good for you.

His voice came low and rough. "That's not the conclusion you should be coming to."

You pouted up at him, then practically threw yourself against him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. "Hotch, I was joking."

His entire body locked up, his hands hovering, unsurely. "You shouldn't joke about things like that."

You hummed, completely unconcerned, pressing your cheek to his chest. "Mmm, but you know, you don't have any of those."

"Those?"

You sighed and your breath was warm against his shirt.

"Those... bad things I always miss in people." Before he could correct you, you sighed again, breath warm against his shirt, voice nothing but soft, drunken honesty. "You're the best man I've ever known."

Hotch's hands betrayed him, settling against your back, pulling you in, holding you like he had a right to. Like he could protect you from the exact kind of man he was trying to tell you to avoid.

It was a lie. A beautiful, easy one, but a lie nonetheless. And it was dangerous, how easily you fit against him, how naturally your body responded to being his for just a second.

And most of all, it was cruel, how much he wanted to believe you.

His fingers curled against the small of your back before he forced himself to let go.

"Alright," he murmured. "Let's get you home."

Hotch had barely taken two steps past the table when Morgan let out a slow whistle, shaking his head like he’d seen something interesting.

"Man," he drawled, "and here I assumed you were just deep in thought earlier."

Hotch exhaled through his nose. "Goodnight, Morgan."

Morgan grinned, lifting his drink. "Oh, it already is."

💌 masterlist

taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[brotherofbagels]

There needs to be more nuance in how people view the situation but the internet doesn't allow for that.

[honeyrisuke]

also if i see one more fucking post saying "in northern europe you are unlikely to be offered food" and this claim is SOLELY based on american cultural understandings i'm gonna turn that fucking wording around on yall real quick

bc i think its horribly fucking rude to already be invited to someones house, then not communicate what you want AT ALL and just EXPECT to be able to stay over for as long as you want without pissing off after what you met up to do is over and also expect to be catered to exactly how you want and like it, all without even saying a goddamn word. it gives "Karen"

[steviescrystals]

my tags on the post i just reblogged got me thinking so here’s my current stream of consciousness

[oddyseye]

Can we get something straight here about Penelope and this whole “Spartan” thing?

Sure, we all know Penelope was from Sparta (well, technically), and we’ve all seen enough 300-inspired pop culture nonsense to think that every Spartan woman must be some spear-wielding, leather-clad, muscle-bound badass. So let’s clear that up once and for all: Penelope was absolutely not that type of Spartan. In fact, that vision of Spartan women is more of a modern fantasy than an actual reflection of Spartan society, and Penelope herself would probably laugh in your face if you tried to pin her down to that archetype.

First off, let’s talk about what it actually meant to be Spartan. Yes, Spartan women had a reputation for being strong, but we need to understand that strength wasn’t defined by throwing a spear or taking down enemies with a shield. Spartan women were celebrated for their physical health and were tasked with producing strong offspring to build the next generation of warriors. They were also responsible for the running of the household when their husbands were off fighting in wars, which meant managing estates, controlling property, and overseeing the everyday operations of Spartan life. So, while Spartan women were not helpless, they weren’t exactly wandering around with weapons, challenging every person who crossed them, either. Penelope’s version of Spartan strength was a little more intellectual, shall we say. For twenty years, while Odysseus was “getting lost” (as one does), Penelope faced down a horde of suitors who were camped out in her house, constantly pressuring her to choose a new husband. Did she pull out a spear and kill them all? No. That’s not what spartan women did. Did she start a war? Absolutely not. Instead, she employed the ultimate weapon: patience. She weaved and un-wove a shroud for years as a stalling tactic, keeping the suitors at bay. Sure, there’s no sword involved, but let’s be real: that takes more cunning than any weapon ever could. Spartan women are not known for fighting, but for surviving.

Penelope’s Spartan roots may have given her the ability to endure, to manage her household, and to outsmart the suitors who had overrun Ithaca, but we’re missing the point if we think that means she was out there battling it out like a heroine from some action flick. Her version of strength was mental, not physical. Instead of wielding a spear, Penelope wielded her intellect, her wit, and her ability to play the long game. If you’re expecting Penelope to start slaying suitors left and right, or charging into battle with a sword in hand, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

Pop culture would love to turn Penelope into a spear-wielding warrior queen, but the actual historical context is far more subtle and far more impressive. She was Spartan in the most meaningful sense of the word: resilient, strategic, and damn clever. Penelope did not need muscles at all. She had the power of endurance — something a spear can’t give you.

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[gremlingottoosilly]

What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey. 

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters. 

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places. 

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies. 

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja? 

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it. 

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach. 

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air? 

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too. 

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely. 

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands. 

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass. 

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute? 

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you? 

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating. 

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right? 

— You’re pretty. 

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly. 

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties. 

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire. 

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning. 

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first. 

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to. 

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone,  but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle. 

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours. 

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too. 

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield? 

— Stay still, ja? 

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one. 

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it. 

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you. 

— Stop, please…’s too much. 

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better. 

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster? 

— Yes. 

— Gut. Would break you in for me. 

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure. 

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass. 

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity. 

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think. 

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides. 

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore. 

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy. 

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils. 

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream. 

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb. 

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

 He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you. 

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips. 

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted. 

— Will you let me go? 

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely. 

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja? 

[transamus]

like I feel like a lot ov the reason transmisogyny as a concept gets so much fucking pushback on here is bc like, motherfuckers can't even unpackage their basic misogyny to begin with. For some reason it feels like feminism is treated as "completed" on here, like it's not a massive fucking issue in the real world, & as a disabled person who's isolated a lot to just the internet, I get it, it's hard to know how things work in general society, but like. Fuck yknow. Sometimes I'll see transmascs on here being just straight-up misogynistic to a trans woman, in the same way the people in that instance would treat cis women too, but completely shielded from criticism bc ov transness, in a rly similar way that cis gay men get away with a ton ov misogyny thru just their queerness. How r we supposed to meaningfully communicate the intricacies ov transmisogyny and how it DIFFERS from transphobia and misogyny to people who we can't recognize don't want to hear it, who we presuppose give a shit to begin with when they are just outright misogynistic on top ov everything else? Who think that the "trans" part is the only operative word in transmisogyny? It sucks.

[bwat5-blog]

"Clearly, Caitlyn Kiramman Should’ve Known Better at 23: A Masterclass in Ignoring Trauma and Believing War Criminals"

**Spoilers for all of Arcane**

Recently I made the mistake of delving into the comments of an otherwise excellent post regarding Caitlyn Kiramman and the aftermath of her time as "dictator", specifically in terms of were there enough consequences? did she do enough to make it right? should more have been done to her? that sort of thing. In the festering cesspool of those comments, I saw a variation of the following statement:

"if we were doing things based on what was fair and just, Caitlyn should have been executed on behalf of the two cities for peace"

It was more crude but you get the point. This person alleged that Caitlyn deserved death for what happened during those few months. Before we move forward lets review what we know about all of this. I have quite recently covered a lot of Caitlyn's arc so I'm not doing a deep dive here. Just enough to address this particular bit of idiocy.

How It Starts:

Like I said we aren't doing a deep dive here, so just for a quick reminder as to where twenty-three year old Caitlyn is mentally at this point(regardless of fault or nuance, just the facts):

Has been almost killed by Jinx three times

Almost killed by Sheriff of Piltover

Abducted naked from her childhood home, forced to dress in Enforcer uniform, bound, gagged, and forced to attend Jinx's tea party where Jinx tries to get Vi to murder Caitlyn

Violently knocked out

Shows Jinx mercy at Vi's request

Jinx kills her mother

Trying to become head of house Kiramman

Undercity attacks the memorial

Survives strike team operations

Brutal fight with Sevika

Vi stops her from shooting again

Very emotional split from Vi after hitting her and leaving her alone

So, with all of that under consideration, a Noxian warlord in her fifties who has commanded troops on various continents across Runeterra, calls her up and says trust me, i have your back, we will get justice for your mother. And Caitlyn folds... Le Gasp?!

Guys I know this is a little more snarky than my usual approach, but this really is just not that complicated. This is not even subtle. We literally see the flash back of Ambessa orchestrating the memorial attack to get us to this point. Caitlyn is an open wound mentally and emotionally, she never stood a chance. Lets take a moment to review some important points here by the way:

Ambessa came to Piltover for Hex-Tech. She doesn't hide this from Mel and is quite clear in her goals.

"If there is a chance hextech can be weaponized, we must have it". Mel responds "Piltover isn't your testing ground... I can't believe you'd start a war just to cover your ass" And Ambessa responds "i would set the world ablaze to protect our family". And the conversation ends with Ambessa ordering her daughter to "let the war unfold".

2. She executes her plan to make Caitlyn her scape-goat in front of:

Councilor Salo

Councilor Shoola

Large group of enforcers

Group of twenty plus people who make up as Ambessa states "every house and family with a modicum of influence"

Not a single, solitary person says a word when Ambessa brings a twenty-three year old grieving young woman with, if we're being generous two months of combat experience though probably less, and says She is in charge now! They let Caitlyn be walked right into the jaws of the wolf herself.

The Great And Terrible Rule Of Caitlyn The Creepy! WHAHAHAHA!:

What she gives her okay on:

Occupation of Zaun

Lawful (under martial law not normal law) arrests of those who cause problems

Yep... there it is folks. There is the great list of terrible crimes against humanity committed by the she-devil of Piltover herself. Checkpoints and arrests. Which by the way I am not justifying. People being arrested subjects them to Ambessa's brutality once they are inside. And as we clearly see Rictus uses the right to arrest to brutalize a Jinxer, and to break up the rally. And Caitlyn absolutely shares some portion of the blame for that. But um.. the way people reacted I was really expecting more public hangings and and labor camps.

**Not really a good place to put this but just fyi, despotic mad-women don't usually have to get up early to please a craftsman guild over supply complaints... just saying..."

"But OP! Sexy Zangief was beating people up and breaking up peaceful rallies!"

Well fortunately we talk about that!

"Was it for my encouragement that your man Rictus was instigating violence?"

How does Ambessa respond? Not with anger, or rage. First with guilt "You don't trust me", then with approval when Caitlyn responds the blade cuts both ways "fearless child, you never shy",

Ambessa is a master manipulator. Caitlyn is and was grieving her mother, and her whirlwind extremely intense romantic relationship with Vi. She had a gargantuan hole in her heart and a woman with decades leading and commanding soldiers and learning strategy slid right in. Recall that in bed with Maddie Caitlyn almost is defending Ambessa, talking about learning so much from her and the lives Ambessa saved with her assistance getting control of Zaun, so they could hunt for Jinx. Caitlyn has legitimately come to care for Ambessa at least on some level. I even believe that on some level Ambessa has come to care for Caitlyn.

2. "Arrests require cause"

When Ambessa is suggesting someone in Zaun knows where Jinx is, this is how Caitlyn responds. Not with orders to start dragging people out into the street. Not executing children in the street or burning down buildings. And when Ambessa tries to justify it "What greater cause is there than returning peace to the city?" Caitlyn responds:

3. "Why is peace always the justification for violence".. (Note Ambessa laying comforting hand on Caitlyn's shoulder during conversation)

Ambessa gives her this speech: "we've lost so many.. the anger, the sorrow.. it's tiring. Gods, I know it's tiring.. But you will never rest knowing that she's out there. Or maybe I underestimated you. Maybe you have the strength I do not.. to forgive.. and trust in tomorrow.. the decision is yours commander.."

"I know you are so tired, I know you are exhausted. I know you want this to be over. But you can't feel safe with her out there. I know you can't. Unless of course you can do what even I can't. Forgive your mothers FUCKING MURDERER. But ya know, up to you"-

If you truly cannot see the insidiousness of how Caitlyn is being twisted and manipulated, I envy you the charmed life you have lead. But be weary my friend, "you're off the edge of the map, here there be monsters." (POC 1)

"But OP! Ambessa was experimenting with Hex-Tech and committing brutal interrogations!"

I will admit the show does not explicitly state that Caitlyn did not know about this. Explicitly. However, given our context clues I feel quite confidant suggesting she did not:

See literally everything she said above

Every time we see them doing this she is not present

It seems like they are in some deep and away part of the prison when they are doing this

In private after the failed hex-tech experiment, Ambessa laments that they didn't secure the scientists before seizing control of Piltover. She is openly discussing that they are the actual ruling power. I seriously doubt she would be doing that anywhere Caitlyn may come knocking.

She Could Have Stopped At Any Time! Maddie Even Say So:

You mean that Maddie? The Noxian spy who keeps an eye on Caitlyn from her fucking bed, taking advantage of Caitlyn's grief and guilt over how things ended with Vi? Caitlyn is reminded she has a choice twice. The first time by the spy in her bed, and the second time by Ambessa herself. Her loyalty is being tested. Not her conscious. Ambessa literally put eyes and ears in her bed, and some of yall wanna argue Caitlyn wasn't being controlled. Ambessa assumed the role of Caitlyn's mother, and had her spy take on the role of Vi. And I will say this. Sure. Caitlyn could have gone to Ambessa and called it all off. No more war, no more martial law, the council is in charge again so no more imprisonment and hex-tech experiments. And maybe.. just maybe Ambessa would have row-row-row your boated her homicidal ass home. I rather doubt it. I suspect that conversation would have ended with Caitlyn getting this treatment:

We have been over this already but for a reminder:

Ambessa came here for hex-tech to fight the blackrose. She instigated the memorial attack for her cause.

"I would set the world ablaze to protect our family"

As we will come to see later, her last living child begs her to stop the bloodshed, even offering to go back with her, and all Ambessa can see is weakness.

Other indicators of how she is doing with everything:

"I never expected this to go on so long.. I thought.. I don't know what I thought.."

"Up again?" Maddie tells us Caitlyn hasn't been sleeping

Forbids the use of the cells Vi was kept in

REWIND BACK TO HELLFIRE:

I recently just did an in-depth doc on the strike team, the use of the grey, and what all of this means in story. So I will keep this brief here. but I do want to discuss it as "SHE WAS GASSING KIDS!" is still being vomited up by every double-digit iq booger eater with a keyboard.

Ambessa orchestrated the memorial attack to force Piltover retaliation

The strike team is an alternative to a full-scale invasion by Piltover.

They are hunting dangerous drug lords, destroying shimmer, and hunting Jinx. All three seem fairly reasonable. The issue is not if they are doing something wrong, it's the reason Caitlyn has them doing it. All you have to do is refer to the handy dandy song lyrics they use as Arcane always does to understand this:

"Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and Living by a couple deadly sins Just to make sure I finish what you began And I ain't afraid to lose a life or ten If it means that I get to win in the end (woo) So I'ma do this on my own, step into the danger zone Pull the pin and watch it blow" (Hellfire Fever 333)

4. Using a crowd dispersal agent that incapacitates bad guys with no documented fatal effects (see multiple characters exposed who are all alive and seemingly well, those images of the people with health issues were from the unfiltered, unaltered smog the Undercity used to live with)to hunt a target who likes to blow shit up seems fair. Also the fact that it knocks people out means they don't have to kill them.

Caitlyn's Remorse And Attempts To Make Things Right:

Literally starts a war with Ambessa to save Vander

Saves a hurt Vi with Jinx's back exposed to her when she is armed

Takes care of injured Vi in her own bed and postpones any judgement of Jinx until Vi wakes

"I Know!"

"We can't erase our mistakes.. none of us"- Equates herself with Jinx

"No amount of good deed can undo our crimes"- Equates herself with Jinx

"Hating you.. I've hated myself.. I just don't have the energy for it any longer.."

Tender moment showing IMMENSE regret during she and Vi's big scene.

The Cost:

One statement I saw opined that there is a difference between remorse and punishment, and that Caitlyn should have been punished. That giving up her seat and losing an eye hardly qualified. Well! Boy oh boy do I have good news for you. Let's take a gander at the physical "not punishment" she acquires willingly leading from the front lines against Ambessa:

Cracked in the head with rifle stock, twice: Skull fractures anyone? how about a lovely concussion?

Stabbed in the stomach: Internal bleeding, bile leaks, intestinal obstruction due to scar tissue adhesions, bowel perforation, the list goes on.

Kicked in the midsection while still stabbed: potential to drive knife deeper lacerating organs and such, just massive pain, potential catastrophic bleeding if a blood vessel was hit, potential rupturing of stomach, kidneys or liver releasing harmful fluids into abdominal cavity, potential for long term chronic pain or permanent organ damage

Leg sweep by Ambessa driving Caitlyn's head into the ground: potential tbi, brain hemorrhage, or further skull fracture, potential vertebral fractures, potential long term cognitive impairment or loss of motor control if spine is damaged

Kicked again: We covered this. Knife is still there.

Ankle pinned/Leg kick/backhand: All sorts of fun things happening to ligaments and tendons. Potential permanent disability. Potential concussion and bruising as well as a whole host of lacerations.

Headbutt with War mask on: Concussion, skull fracture, brain bleed

KICKED OFF OF HER FEET

Pulls knife out of her own body: Potential fatal bleeding, massive pain, possible peritonitis and respiratory distress depending on what all was damaged during the fight with the knife still in her body.

Sacrifices her own eye

Now lets take a quick look at some reasonable assertions for the mental "not punishment" she will likely suffer from after all of this:

Massive potential for PTSD just from the wounds alone

Losing an eye impacts her shooting which is a huge part of who she is and a link to her mother

A woman she shared a bed with levelled a rifle at her neck and pulled the trigger. Caitlyn thought she was going to die.. that doesn't just go away..

look at her face...

She is twenty four people....

4. Guilt over death toll of war

5. Guilt over Vi's possible death from downward spiral

6. Guilt over Vi's possible death from explosion in commune all born from Noxian;s arriving there

7. Guilt over everything done to the Undercity

8. Guilt over perversion of her families ventilation system

9. The fact that from season 1 Act 2 til now, she only ages a year and probably not even a whole one. Refer to my list in the beginning. She has not a single fucking second to breathe or heal from any of that shit

RESTITUTION:

So aside from willingly leading the battle that most of the undercity walked away from until Jinx shows up and almost dying for it, how does Caitlyn start to make things right you may ask? (because it is a start, for those who don't get that. This is the beginning of a story not an end). For the first time in what we understand to be the history of the twin cities, Zaun has a seat at the table. People are REALLLLYYYYY underselling this. I guess because they wanted a whole political treaty signed and to watch Caitlyn get shame-nunned through the street or something. IDK. But what I do know, is that Caitlyn gave away the ancestral seat of house Kiramman, and all the power and authority that came with it, and it now belongs to someone from the undercity. An equal voice. And it's just the beginning. It's not perfect. It's not all wrapped up in a big shiny bow, it feels real. Change isn't instant. It never has been and it never will be, and if you need that to feel fulfilled I understand, but this show was never going to be that for you.

Caitlyn Should Be Executed?:

So back to the original statement. Caitlyn should be executed in the name of peace between the cities. Well, I'll say this. if you see a 24 year old woman who inside of a year had her entire reality imploded, fell prey to the manipulations of a violent war monger close to 30 years her senior if not more, yet found her way back to herself and shed her own blood as a war hero TO SAVE HUMANITY, and your answer is she should be executed. Sure! So long as you admit you have the humanity of a toaster oven you fucking idiot.

To those of you who have continued to read, and share your thoughts, and been open to kind debate and discourse in good faith. You all mean the world to me. As I have said many times, opening myself up to this community has really happed my "real" life in a lot of ways and I love getting on here to appreciate and celebrate this story with all of you. That being said, this particular issue is so god damn irritating to me I am done being nice about it. Have a wonderful day!

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

[fanfic-reading-challenge]

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge

Welcome to another year of the Fanfic Reading Challenge (FRC)!

I won't bore you with the history of the challenge, this year, but I will welcome you to check out past posts that do explain some of it, as well as include a brief overview of what, exactly, this challenge is, though it does change year to year. (Essentially you read fics to complete goals and win bragging points and an artsy badge.)

This year is especially different, as I had the extreme pleasure of having @noxsoulmate as a partner in crime in keeping me hostage on track to completing this year's FRC. Another valued member of the mod team is @jandjsalmon and speaks for all of us if you need questions answered!

As for the challenge....

This is, indeed, a challenge. Of course.

First of all... you must obviously read fanfiction. As if you don't already!

You also need to download and make your own copy of the spreadsheet, which can be found here, as well as below in the important links section.

To participate in the challenge, you read fics that match the tasks in the challenge. An example of a task can be: "read a fic with a title containing the word purple in it." Should be easy! Of course, there are harder ones.

Which is why there are different modes of challenge to the FRC. These are as follows:

Participation (Complete 1 task)

Regular Mode (Complete 80 tasks)

Hard Mode (Complete 150 tasks)

Extreme Mode (Complete 220 tasks)

Complete (Complete 250 tasks)

The challenge lasts from January 1st, 2025, to December 31st, 2025.

There are badges that go with the modes completed, and even a secret 6th badge that will be fairly obvious if you look at the spreadsheet! Doesn't mean it'll be easy to complete though. *smirks* (Blame Noxy)

Most important of all: this challenge operates on the honour system. We don't check your work, or your reading logs (see below), so I mean, I guess if you want to be slippery with the rules, you do you, and that's on your conscience, but honestly it's so much fun to see how much you can get done by following the letter of the law/tasks! You can be slippery even with following the tasks fully. It's great fun. ;D

I think that's enough for an intro, really, maybe too much.

Important Links and Reading Logs/Trackers

As there is a component of the FRC that includes tracking numbers of words read, most of us use a reading log/tracker to keep count of how many fics we read, including data such as words, of course, chapters, month completed, ship, author, title, fandom, link to the fic, and such. It's a great place to mark what fics you want to read in the future as well!

This year we have FOUR trackers on offer, quite different from one another, so take a look, play around with them and check out their "intros", and choose according to what you think will work best for you!

Fic Tracking Sheets

Juulna's 2025 Reading Log

Noxy's 2025 Reading Log

2025 Jandy's Fic Tracker

Taru's Fic Tracker 2025

Discord

We have a blast on Discord. From general chatter to sharing pet pics to being there for each other during the tough times to forming lasting friendships and making friendships you’d never make in a ship- or fandom-specific Discord, to asking for help ‘rolling the dice’ (pick a number between 1-10!) to choose the next fic to read, to finding some of the really challenging task fills in fandoms people might not have ever read but are willing to try, or finding fandoms someone has never read and is very tentative about stepping out of their box, but they’re being 100% supported and know they don’t need to complete the fic for it to count for the task, stepping out of their comfort zone… we’ve formed a very odd group of, if not friends, then companions (but there are definite friendships that have formed!! Just ask the people who have started watching NHL and NFL together in our off topic channel!).

In any case, our Discord is not necessary, but it is a worthy and tactical element to completing many of the tasks of this challenge. 💙

And.... without further ado....!

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge! (link)

There is an info/rules page as the first sheet on the spreadsheet that should fill in any further questions you have. It also has more contact info than just this page if you have any further questions and perhaps need a more immediate answer for your needs.

*Occasionally you will run into something that looks like an error, and it may in fact be one! Let us know if you see it. It's hard not to make a mistake on as large a spreadsheet as this.*

Please, first of all, have fun and just read fanfiction that you enjoy! I (Juulna) did that last year and didn't even come close to completing the entire challenge, and I still had a blast because I was enjoying what I was reading and rereading. Others took the challenge right to the completed end. Others forgot about it halfway through but still had fun, and some even went back and filled in the sheet for a really good showing! The challenge is what you make of it, what you want from it. So... just have fun. Read fic. Smile. Enjoy. :)

Second of all... well, we would love if you signal boost this post!!!!

Third of all, we do have our pinned post that includes a link to this page and that will include a link to our Discord and all our trackers as well, including past links for memento and informative purposes.

Thank you, and a blessed 2025 to all!

[berfgrimm]

staring at the sun | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, sneaking around, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, a smidge of self doubt sprinkled around.

note: this is my take on combining a few requests i got, because i got inspired from a couple of edits i saw on tiktok and listening to a tvotr song. i tried writing this a little differently than I normally write, and i had this vision of ‘deleted or extended scenes’ of certain moments described here, which is something i’ve never done before. maybe it’s silly, but if you guys like this then I’ll expand on those scenes and give you some more from this story’s universe. also don’t chat to me about this being pink hair era, it is my favorite so maybe I’ll be writing about it the most. so what. anyway, enjoy!

———————

The first time you kissed Seunghyun was an accident — well, maybe not an accident, because he intended to kiss you, but it certainly was unexpected. It was in the middle of one of the band’s performances when the boys stepped off the stage for a brief break in between songs, and as a stagehand, you were responsible for the hydration of Seunghyun that night. You waited for him at the stage exit, two bottles of water in your hands and a welcoming smile on your face.

When he walked towards you, there was a frenzied look in his eyes; not panicked, but more energized, wired from the show. As much as he likes to keep a stoic demeanor about him during most performances, you know he adores what he does. It brings him a joy that you seldom see in people, and it makes you both jealous and grateful that he’s able to feel such satisfaction — he deserves it.

Seunghyun had a determined walk that night to go along with his intensity, like he couldn’t wait to get off of the stage because he had to do something. You held the bottles towards him as he neared, smiling still. He stopped too close to you, that was the first thing you noticed. You didn’t have a problem with him being in your personal space, not in the general sense of the word anyway. It was more of a disadvantage, maybe a hindrance — you couldn’t operate at 100% with him that close.

It would happen each time Seunghyun even brushed you as he tried to walk by, or when he gave you the friendliest of touches. Your skin would flush, your breath would catch in your throat, and you’d find it hard to even speak. That night was no different, if possible, it was even worse. Not only was he standing in your space, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, he was so close.

“How is it?” he asked, taking a water from your grasp and twisting the cap off. He threw his head back to take a large glug of water; you couldn’t help but fixate on the sweat on his skin, and his throat as he swallowed. Your mouth went dry at the sight. “Well?” You hadn’t realized he was finished with the bottle and was focused on you again, a faint grin on his lips. You couldn’t answer him, your words were caught in your throat and the more he stared at you, the worse it got.

That’s when he leaned towards you, stooping just enough to dip his head closer. The moment felt almost cinematic. The buzz from the fans that still cheered on the other side of the curtain, the bright lights that shone from every direction, the way he paused just before his lips met yours. When you let out a shuddered breath and leaned closer to him, Seunghyun took the hint, and closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft and quick, just a peck, before he pulled back to look into your eyes. You don’t remember what face you made in response, but it was enough for Seunghyun to place his hand on your hip, gently pushing you backwards until your back hit a wall. You were out of view of anyone who would have walked by, secluded yet surrounded by thousands of people. This time when he kissed you, he was pressed against you harder, more intensely.

He didn’t kiss you like he was frantic, or he needed it, but instead like he was curious, almost scientific. He admitted later that he was nervous but you didn’t get that sense at the time. He didn’t even act like he enjoyed it, and before you knew it, the kiss was done and he was needed back on stage. He took the other water bottle from your hand and was gone before you uttered a word. You were confused to say the least.

Seunghyun didn’t talk to you about it afterwards. The band had another show the following night, and when you stood in the same spot, two more bottles in your hands, you were nervous. As he walked in your direction, you were certain you’d pass out from the way your heart pounded in your chest, but thankfully, your feet were firmly planted.

This time, when he reached you, Seunghyun once again drank a whole bottle of water before planting another kiss on your lips. Since it was a different venue than the night before, the secluded space you shared was no longer an option. Instead, he backed you against a stack of trunks, one hand on your hip to pin you in place.

In the moment, you weren’t sure if it was some sort of fantasy that your brain was making you believe was reality. There’s no way that this highly sought after man would be kissing you in private during his shows. It didn’t make sense. But the kiss was different this time, as he slipped his tongue into your mouth to deepen it briefly. Before you could fully enjoy the kiss, it was over again, and he left you standing alone in seclusion.

That was the start of a tradition. Each night, during their very brief intermission, Seunghyun would meet you backstage and hide behind anything nearby so you could kiss. It was sneaky and clandestine, and it gave you a knot in your stomach each time.

It took you until the fifth night for you to put your hands on him — both hands set simply on his hips; until then, you’d stayed still, too worried that if you tried to touch him, it would spoil the moment. Seunghyun told you later that he felt the same way, overthinking the moments and thinking that if he touched you too much or said anything about it, you wouldn’t want to kiss him anymore.

By the eighth night of kissing in secret, you felt something switch inside of you, and when you put your hands on his hips, you slid them up his body, feeling the heat of his skin under his sweat soaked shirt. You vividly recall the way you could feel his heart pounding as you pressed your hands flat against his chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

That night, when Seunghyun pulled away from you, that same switch inside of you drove you to grab his belt buckle and pull him in for one last quick kiss. As your lips were connecting, you could see a very small amused smirk on Seunghyun’s lips — at least he wasn’t mad.

Two weeks of kissing and gentle, explorative touching backstage at concerts. Away from your secret rendezvous, you had initially not treated each other any differently; friendly, joking, cordial. But at the end of week two, you started to notice the looks Seunghyun would give you when no one else was looking, along with the way he seemed to linger in your personal space. That made you more nervous than the kissing did.

“Why do you stare at me when the guys aren’t looking?” you asked him one night while he was kissing you. It made him stop altogether, peering into your eyes breathlessly. You were momentarily worried that you’d spoiled it by asking, as neither of you spoke during these moments before. It took him a few seconds of thought before he could answer, during which your eyes didn’t leave his face.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he admitted. “I think about it whenever you’re around. Sometimes when you’re not.” You blushed, not expecting the softness and candor in his response. “This is my favorite part of each night,” he added.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Seunghyun nodded, staring directly at your mouth as he waited for you to continue. “I really like doing this in secret,” you began, feeling your nerves spread through your whole body. “It’s sexy.”

You’d never forget the glint in his eyes when you said it, excited and something almost devious. You wished you could have a picture of the way he looked at you, but it ingrained itself in your memory anyway. He looked like he was overcome with desire, for you.

The signal for him to return to stage came far too soon after that. He didn’t get to truly respond to what you had said, but he told you later that it was all he could think about for the rest of the night. You agreed with him, remembering the way that you trembled with excitement at what could come of the conversation.

The next night of the tour something changed. It wasn’t ideal to say the least. One of the other stagehands said they wanted to switch positions, and of course, your manager agreed to the change. You didn’t have time to tell Seunghyun of the change ahead of time, but you still tried to make yourself visible when he exited the stage.

The obvious look of disappointment and confusion on his face would have been funny if you didn’t feel the same way. He had glanced beyond the other stagehand to where you stood, mindlessly rolling up some cables, staring directly at him. He changed the look on his face quickly, shifting back to the stoic persona he usually presented, and acted as though nothing was wrong.

Later that night, after the show ended, you wandered through the corridors of the venue, making sure all of the leftover equipment had been gathered. You were so focused on the task, you didn’t hear Seunghyun sneaking up behind you, so you let out a surprised yelp when he grabbed you and pulled you into a nearby utility closet.

It was pitch black in the room, but you could tell it was him. His breathing, his smell, his energy, it was all around you and as you felt the warmth of his body closing in on you, all you could do was throw your arms around his neck to pull him in.

It was the first time he touched you. Like really touched you. You didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hand as it slid up your stomach, stopping just as his fingertips touched your breast. His hesitancy to not cross a line is what made you feel empowered; you took hold of his hand that barely teased your breast and dragged just a little higher to press his palm against you. He took the hint and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing gently.

“I hated not being able to kiss you earlier,” he admitted, kissing your cheek as he held you close.

“I got reassigned.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

The way Seunghyun said it, without a single shred of uncertainty, because he knew whatever he would say to the team would happen…the power that he had…

You kissed him again, so worked up with excitement, you bit his lip. Not too hard, but enough to make him chuckle into your mouth. You didn't realize right away, not until he let out a moan, but your hand had worked its way down to touch him through his pants. You worried for a moment that you crossed a line but he was already getting hard before you touched him.

“Is this how you want our first time to be?” Seunghyun asked, kissing your neck as he ground himself against your hand. “In a utility closet? In the dark?”

“You can have me wherever you want me.”

“But you love the secrecy,” he teased. “You love hiding but you love the thought of being caught. You love being my secret, don’t you, princess?”

“I do,” you admitted. Seunghyun let out a soft gasp, a little rumble of that deep voice, as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, gently. “But we don’t have time to do this here.” You were disappointed, of course, but you knew he was right. You had a job to do and it would be suspicious for him to be missing for too long. “We have two days off of the tour next week,” he continued. “In Melbourne. We’ll get a hotel.”

“Okay,” you replied, breathless from excitement.

“I’ll make sure you’re back in your regular assignment, as well,” he added. “I won’t be able to handle not kissing you for a week. I love being able to see you like that every night.”

You’d never expected Seunghyun to be so open to admit what could be perceived as weakness. He always came across very closed off, and protective of his emotions around most people apart from his fellow bandmates — even then, he didn’t seem quite as open.

The next several days seemed to drag on forever as you waited to have alone time with Seunghyun. Still, you had your stolen glances and private make out sessions every night, each kiss more desperate than the last, hands moving heavier with more determination.

The last show before the two day break, Seunghyun unbuttoned your jeans and began to slide his hand into your panties. You tensed, and he froze, panic spreading across his face, thinking he crossed a line. You stared into each other’s eyes and his hand stayed just barely past the elastic of your panties, unsure of what to do. You nodded slowly to give him permission to continue, and then you lowered your gaze to watch between your bodies as his hand traveled deeper into your panties.

You could recall that first sensation when his fingers, surprisingly cold, gently touched your folds. He didn’t tease you, no, there wasn’t enough time and you were so close to your hotel date so he wouldn’t do it just yet. Instead he made sure his fingers were wet with your juices before he pulled back, sliding his fingers into his mouth as he kept his gaze on you.

You worried you’d faint from the sight of him savoring your taste, but he gave you a wink, and headed back to the stage before you had the opportunity to even respond. Seunghyun told you later that he could taste you on his lips and tongue for the rest of the show, and that he had to focus not to get hard in front of everyone. You told him that you could feel his cold, soft fingers touching you for the rest of the night, and that you would let him fuck you on stage if that was what he wanted to do. He blushed but you could tell he definitely envisioned it.

You weren’t sure what to expect when it came to being alone in a hotel with Seunghyun, so your mind came up with hundreds of different scenarios that could potentially play out. During your secret rendezvous with him, he was tender for the most part, with the occasional moment of audacity like when he touched you between your thighs.

The first time you had sex with Seunghyun was gentle, the kind of thing you feel like you’d read in a romance novel. There wasn’t a lot of talking apart from the occasional soft whispers of encouragement from him, but your head was too foggy for you to even think of anything else to do except breathe and whimper. You would have been embarrassed by how composed he was compared to you, but you knew he wouldn’t want you to think that way.

You stayed tangled together in bed for what felt like hours after, telling stories of your lives and dreams for the future. As you listened to him open up to you, telling you about all of his hopes and dreams and demons, all you wanted was to kiss him and hold him for the rest of your life. But maybe that wasn’t what he wanted from you.

“Is this it?” you asked him, trying to make your voice stronger than you felt. “After today, are we back to the way things were?”

“Is that what you want?”

“No, not at all,” you said, earnestly.

“Neither do I.”

Things changed from that moment onward, the start of your relationship with Seunghyun. You both agreed that it would be best to keep it between the two of you as long as you could, not ready to deal with the attention of his fans or his bandmates. Beyond that, sneaking around was still so fucking hot.

Once, Taeyang almost caught you. The group had a performance at an award show in Japan that your team wasn't required for. After several days of rehearsals and fittings during which you spent no time together, you finally found a brief moment, maybe ten minutes of time, where Seunghyun wasn’t being pulled in a million different directions. He gave you a quick nod towards the bathrooms, and you knew what he was suggesting.

It was an individual bathroom, no stalls. You snuck inside first, staying at the far side of the room to wait for him to join you. Only a few minutes went by before he finally entered the room, hurriedly locking the door and moving towards you.

“I missed you,” he breathed, crashing his lips into yours for a kiss that he clearly had been waiting too long for. You grabbed his hips and pulled him against you, longing to feel his body again. “Being around you and not being able to touch you like I want to,” he began, kissing along your neck. “Drives me crazy. I don’t know how I’ll manage the next few days not being able to see you.”

You slid your hand to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his short hair, to guide him to a spot on your neck that you love when he kisses. His hands grabbed your sides hard, pinning you to the wall and keeping you in place to grind himself against you.

“Don’t get too worked up,” you warned. “We won’t have time for me to get you off, baby. And I’ve been wanting it so bad, I’ve been dreaming about it. You can’t leave me hungry for you like that.” Seunghyun bit your neck, sucking harder on your skin, clearly trying to leave a mark. “Are you trying to claim me?” you asked, tugging on his hair to get a groan from him. “You want them to see that I already belong to someone?”

“I want you to remember it,” he muttered against your skin. “When I can’t be with you in the next few days, I want you to look in the mirror and see this mark so you’ll remember the way that only I know how to make you feel.”

That was the first time he showed his possessive side, and you were elated. You wanted to return the favor, maybe scratch up his back or his chest to give him something to think about while you weren’t near him but you worried that would be the fastest way to get caught. Sure, Seunghyun seldom showed much skin to anyone, but you knew that his friends enjoyed teasing and pranking one another, which has previously included sneaking pictures of one another while in compromising situations — like in the shower.

The knock on the bathroom door scared you both, and Taeyang’s voice made you even more terrified. All you could do was stare at one another with panic in your eyes.

“Hey, man, we have to leave soon for the next fitting,” Tae called out, knocking again. “Then to the airport for the flight.”

“Okay,” Seunghyun replied, hoping it would be sufficient.

“Are you alright?” came Tae’s response, and she shook the door handle as if he wanted to get in the room. “You sound odd.”

“Be out in a minute.” Seunghyun sounded as irritated as he looked, but thankfully, Tae took the hint and you heard his footsteps retreating. Seunghyun put his hands on the wall on either side of you, looking at you, discouraged. “Text me every time you think of me,” he said. “Especially if it’s dirty.”

“That will be a lot of messages,” you admitted, which made him grin.

“You think about me that much?” he inquired and you nodded, transfixed on his mouth. “Good. Give me details, so I know what my girl daydreams of me doing to her. I’ll miss you.” You make sure to give him another kiss, knowing you won’t see him for several days. “Stay here for a minute after I leave,” he directed. “I’ll make sure no one is around.”

Seunghyun exited first, casually to not draw attention. You counted to thirty before you made your exit, thankfully no one was in sight to be any the wiser.

You sent him fifteen texts that day, which was showing a tremendous amount of restraint compared to how frequently you actually thought of him. Your mind was almost entirely on him from the moment he left your side: sweet thoughts of how you’d love to hold his hand and walk through a market together, tender thoughts of kissing endlessly in his bed, filthy thoughts that you refused to elaborate on via text message but you made sure he knew you needed him in every imaginable way.

That night was the first time you had phone sex with Seunghyun. You couldn’t make it twenty four hours without each other. The sound of Seunghyun trying to keep his moans to a reasonable volume to not get caught by his bandmates in the next room was something you’d think about forever; you wished you could record the sound in your mind and play it whenever you wanted. The slightly static and muffled distortion of his voice coming through the phone somehow made his voice deeper, and when he told you what he would have done to you if you were there with him that night, you switched to a video call so he could watch you touch yourself.

You slowly found out about each other’s kinks. He liked watching you touch yourself because if anyone knew what you liked the most, it would be you. He also liked being called ‘baby’, and having his hair pulled. You told him you liked being more submissive, and you especially enjoyed dirty talk. He said he liked lingerie, the lacy kind, and he ended up buying you three different sets to wear for him. Though you were most nervous to admit this one, and you tried to avoid it altogether, you told him the contact lenses and costume for ‘Bae Bae’ were sexy.

“I’ll wear them for you one day,” he promised. “But you’d better be a dirty girl for me if I do, princess.” You tried to hide your excitement and embarrassment, but Seunghyun saw it immediately. “I love when you get shy,” he smirked, stealing a gentle kiss.

“I love everything you do,” you responded.

The first time you both actually said ‘I love you’ was during one of the intermissions about two months after you started your relationship. You both admitted later that you felt it much earlier on than that, but didn’t want to pressure the other.

Seunghyun said it first. The roles were slightly reversed from usual, as he was the one pressed back against the wall with your hands touching his body over his shirt. Your mouth was leaving a wet trail of kisses along his sharp jawline, tasting the sweat on his skin. His hands were on your backside, pulling you against him hard, letting you work your magic on him.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss below your ear then resting his head against yours. You stopped kissing his neck, staying in place, breathing slowly as you let the words sink in. “Is that okay?” he questioned, his hands shifting to your hips now, rubbing soothingly.

“More than okay,” you whispered, nudging your head against his gently. “I love you, too.”

Seunghyun let out a small, excited yell in response to your words, roughly wrapping his arms around you and spinning you both in a circle. You laughed along with him holding on tight as he got out his excited response.

“I knew it, princess. You can’t get enough of me.”

“That’s funny, coming from you,” you retorted, playfully shoving him against the wall again and standing in front of him, both of your hands pressed to his chest. “I’m so fucking in love with you,” you whispered, wistfully.

Seunghyun gave you one last passionate kiss before he had to go back onto the stage. He told you later he felt like it was the best performance he ever gave because he couldn’t stop thinking about how much love was in your eyes when you looked at him.

When Jiyong almost caught you, it was enough to cause you and Seunghyun to have a conversation about the future of your relationship. It was after a show, when Daesung asked you to join the guys and a few others to go to a club. Ordinarily, you would have refused as you didn’t spend a lot of time clubbing, but when you glanced past Daesung towards Seunghyun, you noticed the hopeful look on his face — so you agreed. Maybe the night would give you an opportunity to dance with Seunghyun.

What you hadn’t thought of, however, was what happened a couple of hours before, during your intermission make out session. You decided to tempt Seunghyun, just a little bit, and you wore a skirt. You knew immediately that it worked, because his hands were under your skirt, groping your thighs, as soon as his body touched yours.

The issue was that you had slipped your panties off and handed them to him just before he went back on stage; hot pink panties from a set he had bought. You could see the surprise on his face initially, but his expression changed to something different, more intense. He shoved the clothing into the pocket of his jacket, swooping back towards you for another kiss before he went back to the stage. He told you later that it was one of the sexiest things you ever did, and that he tried to think of a way to do something similar for you, but he didn’t think handing you his briefs would have the same impact.

Fast forward to the club, when Seunghyun took his jacket off and draped it over his seat, only to have your panties fall from his pocket to the floor. Neither of you noticed it until Jiyong spoke.

“Lose something?” he laughed.

“Huh?” Seunghyun asked, prompting Jiyong to point to the clothing on the floor. Your heart leapt to your throat and you were thankful that the lights were low in the club so no one could see the look of shock and embarrassment on your face.

“Pink to match your hair, is that it?” Jiyong teases, taking a sip of his drink. Seunghyun scooped the panties up from the ground, stuffing them into the pocket of his pants this time.

“Caught them on stage,” he explained casually, sitting down again.

“And you decided to carry them with you after you changed clothes,” Jiyong continued, a smirk on his lips as he watched Seunghyun for any signs of deception.

“You don’t have to act so jealous because you didn’t catch any,” Seunghyun responded, a sly smirk on his lips. Jiyong laughed at his friend’s response.

“That’s a shame — I thought you’d finally found someone willing to put up with all of your quirks.” Seunghyun didn’t need to respond, and he told you later that if he didn’t relent when he did, Jiyong would have kept pushing until he figured out your secret.

The best moment of the night was dancing with Seunghyun. Even when you were just friends, you didn’t share a dance together, so you weren’t aware of how good it felt to slow dance and grind with him. To make sure no suspicions were raised, you danced with the others as well, and even though Seunghyun agreed it would be a good idea, you could tell he hated to watch it happen.

Later that night, Seunghyun sent you a video of him, a little tipsy from the drinks that night, and a little frustrated from the lack of time spent with you. He spoke deeper than normal, trying to avoid being heard by anyone through the walls.

“I didn’t like their hands on you,” he muttered. “Touching you like they had the right. It makes me crazy not being able to touch you when I want, princess.” He sounded needy in a way you hadn’t heard from him before, and it made you wish he was with you in your room right then.

It wasn’t until the next day that you had a few moments to spare together where Seunghyun asked you if you were serious about him. You were frustrated with the question at first until you realized why he was asking: you two were getting closer to being caught, and he wanted to save you from the relentless teasing and jokes you’d be subjected to once the others found out. You told him you didn’t care and you loved him, so that was all that mattered. You’d enjoy sneaking around while you still could.

The first time you played a prank on him wasn’t your choice. Daesung and Jiyong talked you into it, because they knew that Seunghyun would expect strange behavior from them during a prank war. You were an objective third party as far as they knew, and you thought going along with their plan would be the best way to keep the heat off of you.

You didn’t think it was a great idea because you knew how much Seunghyun didn’t enjoy showing off his body, but Daesung convinced you to steal Seunghyun’s clothes while he was in the shower. You agreed, and before you knew it, you found yourself sneaking into the shower room in search of his clothes. Until he caught you, all of his clothes bunched up in your hands while he stood opposite you with a towel around his waist.

“You turned on me, princess?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips. “You joined their team?”

“It’s just…for fun,” you explained, cheeks flushing.

“Are you blushing because you’ve been caught or because you want me to drop the towel?” He stalked towards you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to run away or run closer. “Both?” he smirked.

“Maybe a little,” you mumbled.

“Take the clothes,” he nodded, finally in front of you. “I’ll make a big scene about it, don’t worry. But tonight, I want you to come by my hotel room, and you can pay me back.” He stole a quick kiss from you before gently shoving you in the direction of the exit.

You both acted perfectly together, convincing the other guys that you had pranked him. They laughed uncontrollably as Seunghyun cursed them for talking you into a stupid prank war. After you finally relented and returned his clothes, he spared a quick glance to the others to make sure they weren’t looking when he whispered in your ear.

“My room later,” he said. “You owe me.”

He got you off four times that night before he let you relax. It was a new record for both of you.

The next day was the first time one of the guys suggested Seunghyun ask you out. You weren’t around when it happened, working elsewhere in the arena setting up for the rehearsal, but Seunghyun was practically giddy when he told you later.

From Seunghyun’s retelling of the conversation, Tae was the first to bring it up, mentioning that he could see a spark between the two of you at the club. Jiyong agreed but Daesung mentioned that he felt he had more of a chance with you than Seunghyun did.

“Dae would be my second choice,” you joked with Seunghyun, and thankfully, he laughed in response.

According to Seunghyun, he played the whole thing as casually as possible. At first he denied that there was any sort of spark between you, and then he allowed his friends to make him see it. Still, he shrugged it off, saying he didn’t have time for a relationship. By the end of the conversation, he seemingly dissuaded them of the notion altogether.

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell them,” he admitted. “It’s fun sneaking around, and I’m happy being private. Besides, that’s one step closer to the rest of the world finding out. I don’t want you to face them until you’re ready.”

It was sweet how he wanted to protect you, but you felt in a certain part of your mind that maybe he wasn’t ready to tell the world because he wasn’t proud of you. It was a silly notion, and you knew from the way he looked at you that he would do anything for you, just as you would for him. Still, you couldn’t help but hear that small whisper of doubt if you thought too hard about your relationship.

The whisper got softer, and eight months into your still secret relationship with Seunghyun, you couldn’t hear it at all anymore. The tour had ended and you were able to spend more time together without as much worry of being caught. You spent most of your days in his apartment, sometimes yours, watching movies together or staying in bed. You were sometimes treated to the sight of Seunghyun at his desk, writing new music; you think those were your favorite days.

It all brings you to this moment right now. You’re tangled up in the sheets of Seunghyun’s bed, on your back with your hips at the edge, while he’s knelt on the floor with his head between your legs. He has your thighs spread wide for him, pinned down against the bed so he can get at you without issue.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, fisting his hair to hold him in place where he sucks on your clit. “That feels so good, please don’t stop.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, and you’re sure you can feel him smirking. He thrusts his fingers into you faster, sensing that you’re close from the way you’re squeezing and grinding against him. “Good girl,” he breathed into you. “Come for me, baby.”

Every time Seunghyun makes you come, it feels better than the last. Your body trembles and you moan out his name so much and so hard, you feel like you’ll lose your voice. This time is no different, and you ride out each and every wave of your orgasm, then dropping back into the sheets, panting.

“I’ll never get tired of the way that sounds,” Seunghyun says, licking the taste of you from his lips and fingers. “You, calling my name, breathing like you’re desperate for air. You’re so beautiful.” You reach towards him, cupping his face with both hands and urging him closer to you. He grins up at you, climbing on top of you on the bed to kiss you passionately.

You’re both so lost in the feeling of one another you don’t hear the front door of the apartment open, and you didn’t hear your friends talking idly while they changed their shoes in the entryway. If you had overheard them, you would have had more time to cover yourselves up or even hide before they entered the bedroom.

“Oh, damn!” Jiyong exclaims, laughing. “I’m sorry!” He covers his eyes and turns from the doorway, but is quickly joined by his two other bandmates who are hurrying to peer into the room.

“No way!” Daesung laughs.

“I knew it,” Tae laughs.

“Fucking go!” Seunghyun yells, pointing at them with one hand as he tries to help you cover yourself with a sheet. “Have some respect!” The other three men almost fall over one another as they scramble from the room, still in a fit of excited laughter. “I’m so sorry,” Seunghyun says, softly, as he turns to check on you. “Are you okay? I didn’t know they were coming over.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, your cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. “I guess the truth is out now.”

“So much for privacy,” he chuckles, grasping your jaw tenderly and pulling you towards him for a kiss. “I’m sorry, princess. If you go get cleaned up, I’ll talk to those idiots, and try to calm them down before you come out there.”

“Okay,” you smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies. You smile, tossing the blanket from your body and moving to stand up from the bed. “Wait,” Seunghyun says, catching your hips, and pulling you to stand in front of where he sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m not upset that they know. I’ll miss sneaking around because it was sexy…but at least we can be open about it. And we can start moving you in here tomorrow.”

“That’s how you ask me to move in with you?” you chuckle, putting your hands on his shoulders.

“You love it here,” he responds, one of his hands slipping between your thighs, touching your still wet and tender folds. “I‘ll be able to touch you anytime you want me to. And we both know…you always want me to touch you.”

“Mmm,” you hum, closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh. “Maybe. But I’m not going to let you finger me while your friends are in the other room.” Seunghyun laughs, removing his hand from between your legs and making sure you look at him before he slips his fingers into his mouth to clean them.

“Go clean up,” he commands, gesturing to the bathroom. “If I get them to leave before you’re out, I’m coming in there and fucking you in the shower.” You laugh, playfully slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t make a promise that you don’t intend to keep.”

“Oh, you doubt me?” he laughs. “Now I’ll have them out of here in sixty seconds, so you’d better be in that shower waiting for me. Or else you’ll be in trouble.” You wish you could identify what it was about Seunghyun threatening you like this that set your inside alight with arousal, but you figure that’s an internal conversation for another time. “Go now,” he says, smacking you on your backside. “Be a good girl and listen to what I told you.”

As you enter the bathroom, you feel an excitement radiating through you unlike you’d felt before at the thought of being in a relationship with Seunghyun. Now that the truth is out, the possibilities are endless. And the likelihood of Seunghyun keeping his promise to meet you in the bathroom is now a certainty as he stands in the doorway, thirty seconds faster than he had predicted.

[northopalshore]

Sun in the Midheaven Persona Chart

Tells you how you act when working, what you tend to embody when career driven but also, what characteristics draw the most fame. It could also be the 'persona' people will associate your image to. Also tells you how you will be remembered. Midheaven persona chart Masterlist

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

In the signs

Aries (1°,13°,25°)

A little headstrong, a go getter. Someone who knows what they want and how they want to pursue it. You are likely seen as the head of operations, the one who is always quick to act on any agenda. You are headstrong & opinionated. Although, you may also often be described as childish or youthful. You are the one who is willing to try something new, or experimental when everyone else wants to stick to what they know. Also play a role as a sort of sex symbol.

Ex: Brigette Bardot has her MC pc Sun in an Aries degree (°13). She's well known to be an activist; someone outspoken & brave (woman & animal rights ). She's also considered one of the biggest sex symbols in pop culture history.

Taurus (2°,14°,26°)

You are someone very down to earth, and people will often express how comfortable they are around you. You are also likely going to be a peacemaker or the person who will try to ground the situation when it gets rather messy. That being said, you are still likely very hardworking & diligent wehn it comes to the things you have to do.

Gemini (3°,15°,27°)

You are seen as a friend, and a mentor. Perhaps you will inspire people with your ideas & quick wit. You yourself are cunning and very observant of those around you when it comes to your career. People will remember you very fondly, and see you as a companion. Someone they can talk to. You are rather iconic for your words.

Cancer (4°,16°,28°)

You are a household name. You are going to be remembered as well as your family (usually because you're likey working with them) .People will likely always associate you with your family's dynamic or family name. Very common in the charts of individuals working with their family throughout their career ( or at least gain the most traction working with family related things).

Ex: Beyoncé, Kim Kardashian (28° cancer) degree, Ex-US President Obama (28° cancer) degree have this placement.

Leo (5°,17°,29°)

You are a sensation. Usually, people have this set look or persona they attach you to. The iconic one that will have their image plastered through space and time. Something about you will steal the hearts of the people around you. Also, you could be seen as youthful or playful. You are associated with young blood or youth in general.

Ex: Lana Del Rey & Sid Viscous both share this placement.

Virgo (6°,18°)

You are a hardworker. You will be remembered as someone who strived for perfection in all angles, whether it'd be in your personal life, your public image or career. You take things seriously, always trying to get more and more out of what life has to offer. Everyone knows you don't play when it comes to money or your business, but at the same time you may be seen as very judgemental/critical of how you perceive those around you. That is only because you know, you can back it up with a long list of qualifications under your belt.

Ex: Kim Kardashian's MC PC sun is in Virgo.

Libra (7°,19°)

The one I'd refer to as the muse. You are gentle and fair. You are adored by many, and likely have no trouble finding suitors or admirers throughout your career. You are a fashion icon, beauty icon, a trendsetter. You could be remembered as a lover (or someone's lover). Something about your love life is usually prominent here. Your works could also receive much attention especially when the topic is centered on love or art.

Ex: Elizabeth Taylor has this placement, she is known for her 7 husbands aside from her wonderful on-screen performances. Her sun also opposites Uranus & squares Pluto.

Brigette Bardot also has this placement, she's a well known fashion icon & was the muse of Saint Tropez (as the film the starred in brought pit them on the map). Also known for her rather tumultuous love life, marriages & affairs.

Scorpio (8°,20°)

Usually seen in the MC PCs of porn stars or adult entertainers in general. Massive sex appeal, but also hold immense power and authority. You represent change. The first rain after the drought. Someone that changed the game for all who has hoped for it. Usually these individuals come with a strong belief of conviction, determined to change something. You are also rather rebellious or controversial.

Ex: Obama & Nancy Spungen have this placement.

Sagittarius (9°,21°)

You are a phenomenon. You are likely to be very adept on multiple levels of your career, people will see you as someone who knows a lot or holds a lot of power in the industry that you're in. Confident & knowledgable. You will be remembered for standing above the rest, & that there will be no one quite like you when you're gone.

Ex: Michael Jackson (sag sun), Cristiano Ronaldo (°21) & Beyoncé (°21) has this placement.

My friends & mother (who are teachers) seem to either have prominent Gemini or Sagittarius (specifically °9 degrees) in ther MC PC.

Capricorn (10°,22°)

You, are intense. Especially if your sun falls into the 22nd degree. People will think you're a lot to handle. On one hand, you are seen as this very capable individual. Someone who just seems to do everything right in your career. Your impact is undeniable, yet many may dislike you because of that. It's either people fear & respect you, or hate you. There's rarely ever an in between.

Ex: Matty Healy has this placement. Both him and his band are still considered influential in their industry. Being seen as this.. erratic hot mess that still manages to be the if not the most popular band in the "rock act" at the moment.

Aquarius (11°,23°)

Rebel with a cause. You are very chill when it comes to your careers and ambition, but that doesn't mean you're a sitting duck. You are the person that will strive for innovation; but at the same time wanting to remain true to the essence of who you are. People will often think of you as someone either very strange and erratic or intelligent and focused.

Pisces (12°,24°)

You take on a very idealistic approach when assuming a position in your career life, and by that I mean this can go one in two ways; you are rather the one people praise for being so in tune & understanding of the current trends or what it means to be someone of your position (place in career) or, you are the odd ball with a sense of great fantasy as aspiration; always looking for more in life. You will be remembered as someone gentle, and in a way out of this world.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

In the houses

1st House

You are a boss. People will remember you as someone who paved the way in a sense. A go getter, a high achiever, literally a boss bitch. You know your worth and you will not settle for less regardless of what others may think. You take risks and bold decisions, not afraid to stand out. Your focus will always be on yourself; how do I improve this about my life, how does this choice affect me? Some may see you as selfish and shallow, but in the end, you know the game you're playing & how to get the things that you want. So werk.

Ex: Kim Kardashian has this placement. "You better get your ass up & go to werk". Love her or hate her, she's still an icon in her own right.

2nd House

You are remembered for your luxurious presence lmao. What you wear, what you buy, what you love. A materialist who sees the value of all things, your career has always been money centric; by that I mean money itself is a large motivator throughout your career & people will see it evidently in the things that you own and the name that you've likey made for yourself somewhere down the line. This is also one of those "brand name" placements.

3rd House

Talkative, friendly, youthful. You have this young spirit that everyone admires regardless of your age. People will remember you as their friend/ companion. Someone fun loving and generous. Witty and charismatic. People will always be entertained when they're around you; which usually means your career involves a lot of talking, teaching and interactions in general.

Ex: My mother has this placement, she's a grade school teacher & the kids always love her for her animated expressions.

4th House

People will remember you for your emotional generosity. Usually seen in charts of people who work with children or housekeeping, but also stay at home mother's, though it's not just limited to those specific options. It's likey you have some sort of maternal appeal ( people see you as a parental figure or someone to care for). Someone trustworthy & safe to be around. People tend to grow fond of you & get attached very easily.

Ex: Jungkook has his sun in Libra (°27 Gemini) in the 4th house in his MC persona chart. He's known for his familial relationship with BTS as well as his voice and friendly appeal. In the future, it's likey he'll be known for his family & marriage life as well.

5th House

Your art, your passions, your childlike innocence & sensuality will be remembered by all those that come across you. People will say you're born to be an artist, an entertainer, a performer, a parent & a friend. Children will also play an important role in your life, it could be your kids or the kids of other people (inspiring them, teaching them).

Ex: Doja Cat & Michael Jackson have this placement. Need I say more?

6th House

You will be remembered greatly for your career or your work, and even your lifestyle. Something about your etiquette or even your health/habits will often be the thing people think about when they hear your name. The sign it's in as well as aspects that it makes will reveal exactly what part of your life is highlighted.

For example, if it is conjuncting pluto or uranus, you are seen as someone who has revolutionised something in your field of work.

Ex: Sid Viscous has his Sun (17°leo) in Leo 6th House. His sun conjuncts uranus in the same house. His role in The Sex Pistols were a revolutionary advocate for the punk rock movement & were a huge commercial success. However, that sucess was short lived due to many issues i.e the lack of depth portrayed through their art (lack of a strong conviction or belief). They were just 'punks' for the sake of entertainment almost. I have to note that he has a 6th house stellium in the mc chart (6 planets & a LOT of asteroids) which could explain the erratic nature of his reputation/public life.

7th House

You are likey known for being professional, but also very focused or invested in your love life (either or sometimes). Your commitments are a highlight of your career and people will see that very clearly. You may base your career on love and relationships as well; wether your own or being a matchmaker. You also likey own multiple businesses (especially if business is your main source of income).

8th House

People have very intense feelings or opinions around you. On one hand, people will go crazy for you like apeshit crazy supporters. Then on the other, people will not stop trying to take you down. Even of not in the adult entertainment industry, you still carry heavy sex appeal. Gains both haters and obsessive followers quite easily.

Ex: Cristiano Ronaldo & Jennie have this placement. Surprised? Nope.

9th House

People remember you as a sort of traditional person. Someone who values their religion and beliefs, but also optimistic and opinionated. You are the heart of a team (of you work with one). People will look up to you as someone they know they can trust. People are normally immediately at ease around you. Though there might be this larger than life mentality that you'll adopt (which could go both ways).

10th House

You may be very focused on chasing that public light; sometimes even after your reached your prime. Your public image is and always will be important to you and people can tell, though it also means that you will experience a lot of "viral" moments or times where you are able to reach very high recognition. These are usually the ones who live through multiple eras throughout their career.

Ex: Camilla Cabello has this placement. (I haven't checked, but I won't be surprised if Taylor Swift has this too).

11th House

You will be remembered as witty and one of a kind. People will often see you as a star, but still somewhat down to earth. A friend if that makes sense. They know that whatever you choose to do or however you act is according to what you truly believe in. Your funny, smart, and erratic self is out there for everyone to see. Tends to get a lot of recognition online or from people around them.

12th House

You are extremely creative, and very connected to your art or passions. People will remember you as someone that is able to transcend and bring their fantasies to life. Something about you will be majestic or untouchable. Usually, your work will involve music or art in some way. You may also incorporate religion one way or another in everything that you do. You are enchanting. You get a lot of attention for your creativity & sensitive nature. Your image thrives on places like Pinterest or Tumblr; somewhere you can share your aesthetics.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

***disclaimer; entertainment & educational purposes only reader discretion is advised***

@northopalshore

@northopalshore midheaven persona chart all rights reserved 2024

[alnilaem]

I don't know how much it fits but, keeping with the theme of butcher!simon's neighborhood being a bit dangerous:

where I grew up (rough neighborhood) there were often bars/pubs and even gas stations nearby that operated all afternoon/night and guys often congregated outside smoking cigarettes and what not. they never bothered the residents, but they damn well worked as guard dogs and warded off strangers.

so... idea: simon and his buddies hanging out outside the corner pub when reader is coming/going to her second job in the weekends, watching closely to make sure she makes it from the bus/train stop to the building door, especially after dark.

OR

alternatively!! simon who stays up and checks out of his window when reader is coming home after dark and doesn't let himself go to sleep until he hears her door unlocking and her making some type of sound (like closing her rickety door or whatever).

i dont think you understand….. reading this altered my brain so viscerally. guard dog simon. yeah.

-

“Still got yer balls in her purse?”

Simon lights his cigarette. The soft smoulder of it barely offsets the flickering streetlight above them, scarcely illuminates the sidewalk. It shines over his face, hanging from the threshold of his lips.

“Yup,” he hums. “Right where I want ‘em.”

Johnny cackles through the plume of smoke curling up and out of his lips. He pats Simon on the back, taking a long drag of his cig, and bumps his shoulder with Kyle’s.

“When’d’ya reckon he’ll let us meet the Bird?”

Kyle rolls his eyes. “When he finds someone to pay.”

“Put a sock in it,” Simon snarls. Taps the ash off his cig. 

Photo is a generous word for it. But it was the only thing Simon had to testify to your existence. A blurry, smudgy picture taken on his phone. Half-eclipsed by his thumb which was accidentally in the corner of his camera. A picture of you leaving the lift—a shallow angle of you walking in some leggings, returning from work. 

It was privy to Simon. A likeness to indulge in during his work days. But in a flitting moment, Johnny laid his eyes on it. Read him to filth for it.

And now, they’re here. 

Off-white sheets of rain running off the canopy they’re situated under. Each holding a cigarette to their lips, resting against the wet brick of a hole-in-the-wall pub. The warm hum from inside pooling into the empty streets of Manchester.

A thin sound arises from it. The chime of a shopkeeper’s bell, signifying the door is being opened. Into the diving rain, you step out, clutching a backpack against your shoulder, your uniform sticking to your skin.

It’s a heavy mass of muscle you almost run into. You stop yourself with a hand split against their chest, against the fleetly rise-and-fall of their jacket.

You have to hoist your neck up to see him. It takes you a while to reorient yourself, to recognise the depthless copper of his eyes. And it takes you even longer to register the underside of his face. Bare, flooded under the soft light of streetlights. 

“Simon!” You squeak. The succession of his heartbeat pumping under your palm. Two men hovering behind him, exchanging puckish smirks. “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s eyebrows purse like he’s confused. He tilts his head, looking at you like a puppy, and shrugs. “I’m here to pick you up.”

“Pick me up–” a chord of bemusement strikes you, collapsing your sentence. Your reservations catch up to you, hitting you like bricks. “Pick me up?”

Simon grunts. His eyes flicker down to your skirt, how it flurries in the wind, and pulls you beneath the awning. 

“Getting y’rself all wet under there,” he grumbles. “Brought you this.”

Simon holds up an umbrella. He waits for you to take it before splaying his big hand on the hind of your spine and turning you around, shepherding you forward.

Your voice is warped with bashfulness when you speak. “Where’re we going?”

“Home,” he says. Three pairs of footfall tread on your heels. Each one more intimidating than the other. Sticky and wet as they trail behind you.

“Just keep walking, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “‘m here.”

It’s a shield that keeps everyone away. The invasive eyes, the creeping men that usually accompany you on your walk home after work. But today, they’re silent. 

The three men are a pack of dogs behind you. 

Simon, kissing the ground before you walk on it.

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.