#'you seem completely obsessive over this topic in a way that goes beyond normal. i like your energy' is so funny to me

[ladyseidr]

my favorite part of the william and henry dynamic aside from The Horrors is just them infodumping abt tech @ each other for hours

[incarnadinedreams]

What do you like about jc?

Oh my goodness what don't I love about him!

Well, first and most importantly, he has a purple lightning whip.

Secondly, you know how the elements of a tasty dish are salt, fat, acid, heat? Well he's salty, he's acidic, he's a spicy Yunmeng boy, and some sources of mixed repute claim he's got a nice fat ass. All the elements for a delicious snack are right there!!! He has the range, the depth, the complexity!

Jokes aside, a lot of it really is just based on vibes. I just... liked him pretty much immediately. My heart was won at "I'm his uncle. Any last words?" and it only got better from there. He's got most of my favorite lines in the book - whether funny or completely heart-wrenching, both directly in his dialog or about him. His sarcastic comments are always hilarious, and he's often enough actually a voice of reason and responsibility (promptly ignored). The vast majority of the time when he's not in some absurdly extreme and traumatic situation he's being pretty normal and seems perfectly likeable to me.

I enjoy that from the start he's mostly pretty practical. One of the first times we see him, he desperately wants to smack Lan Wangji but he's run the cost-benefit analysis in his mind and it's not worth it, so (grumpily) he does not. Some people point out his 'definitely don't start a petty fight unless you know you can win' reasoning as some sort of point of cowardice, but my reaction to that scene was thank god, finally someone in a fantasy novel has some common fucking sense!

Except, of course, on one very specific topic: Wei Wuxian. And then there's like a 50/50 chance all that consideration goes out the window instantly. A little pinch of unhinged obsession adds so much extra flavor! With the amount of overtime he's pulling in sect conferences he deserves a little derangement from time to time, as a treat. And that intensity goes both ways.

That fervent certainty that Wei Wuxian would be back some day, that not even death could hold him - a conviction bordering on madness, except in the end he was right? Hot.

On the other end, he's willing to sacrifice himself for Wei Wuxian and other people who loves over and over and over again throughout the story (even if he's mad about it), until he can't do that without throwing other people he's responsible for under the bus.

To the point that when we get to the big reveal after Guanyin Temple about how he was captured by the Wens... once the shock fades, you step back and think 'wait, why was that even a surprise to me at all?' The guy just took a sword through the chest for Wei Wuxian like an hour earlier (even if it was unnecessary and therefore mostly embarrassing), and was about to run back into that cave at the Second Siege with no spiritual power and a sword he couldn't even lift three days before that, and yet we're surprised he gave himself up back then?

And of course, the same goes for his nephew and I just love them so much. He doesn't hesitate for a moment to offer himself as a hostage instead of Jin Ling at the temple. He may sometimes struggle to express his love in a way that's more palatable than the prickly sharp thing it can sometimes be, but it's undeniably there. When Jin Ling is crying after the Second Siege, it's Jiang Cheng he goes to without hesitation - and that "Who did this to you?!" line, the way he doesn't hesitate to pull him away somewhere private and stick by his side.

Even things that are meant to cast him in a bad light, like his 400 spirit nets fiasco, show him also anxiously helicopter-uncling his way through baby's first "solo" night hunt, complete with undercover agents just in case, is proof that he at least cares very deeply. I think if you look beyond the surface, it's also pretty obvious why he'd spare no expense and use any method to give his bullied nephew the best debut night hunt possible in a society where talent and prestige are incredibly important to his future ability to consolidate power as the Jin heir. He wants to shield him from the same insecurities and pain he felt, especially where being overshadowed was used against him in ways that had specific negative impacts on his ability to protect people he cared about.

Another of the reasons I love him so much is because his grief is so intense that it's palpable. Those scenes post-fall of Lotus Pier where he's oscillating between numbed shock and fury, just... feel so real, and relatable, and resonate in way that's just horribly accurate. It's like his grief jumps off the page, you can feel the hurricane of horror and loss crashing into him. The scene at Nightless City, that moment where he says "Didn't you say that you could control it, that it would be fine?", where the last of his faith in Wei Wuxian shatters and the fracture is complete, like two halves of a whole have finally snapped apart and there's nothing left... I just love the intensity and desperation.

But even more, he keeps going after. He's stubbornly alive, despite it all, and I don't think he gets nearly enough credit for the fact that he's actually able to handle things pretty well, considering the situations involved. He has a breakdown about it and then he picks himself up and gets back to work. He's remarkably resilient, in ways that aren't necessarily flashy or obvious at first. Too much is made out of the ways he's broken or bitter when for the most part he's actually remarkably functional in the face of horrible traumas!

I have been trying very hard not to just spam my favorite quotes in here but this is really my favoritest favorite (from chapter 61) because it just sums him up so beautifully:

... the most laughable one was the YunmengJiang Sect, the people of which either had been killed or had scattered, leaving only Jiang Cheng, who was younger than even Lan XiChen and was still a child born yesterday, who had nobody in his hands but still dared call himself sect leader, holding up the banner of rebellion as he recruited new disciples.

Because he does the hard work, day in and day out. The boring, tedious, constant work - the endless late nights dealing with the constant problems. But he does it, and he mostly accomplishes what he sets out to do.

It's so sad that all the things he does very well get overshadowed by his insecurities, because in the end, hasn't he done incredible things? Hasn't he survived? Hasn't he gone from the youngest sect leader with nothing and nobody that Wen Ruohan could only laugh at, to "No matter which clan you choose to offend, you shouldn't offend the Jiang clan, and no matter which person you choose to offend, you shouldn't offend Jiang Cheng"?

He might be a little scarred, but isn't he succeeding all the same?

(He should probably hire a PR firm to handle the rumors his resting bitch face causes though.)

[shig-a-shig-ah]

LAYING CLAIM

» pairing: dabi x fem!reader

» cw: dubcon, revoked consent, noncon (we’re going on a journey, okay?), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, crying, gratuitously fanon characterization. 18+, minors DNI.

» a/n: Started this months and months ago, and since I’m finally getting around to wrapping some WIPs, I guess you can have it now. Thanks @thebiggergroove​ for beta-reading!

» wc: 5.3k

» ao3 mirror

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The thing about Dabi is he's not usually a possessive guy. Fucking is fucking, as far as he's concerned—it doesn't really matter who is doing it with whom as long as everyone is getting off on it. But goddamn if there isn't something about you that makes him want to make you his.

And he's gotten that, more or less. It took some sweet talking and cajoling, and a few late nights where he made you come until you couldn't see straight, but you agreed not to go sleeping with anyone else. Sure, you've made him promise the same, but that's fine. Not that he's going to actually stop, of course, but he goes out on recruiting missions alone and he figures what you don't know won't hurt you.

That's all enough to satisfy him, at least for a little while. But then a few weeks pass and there it is again: that stupid jealousy and all those unbidden thoughts about the people you were with before him. People he knows. You never talk in too much detail about your past hookups, but he's not stupid, is all too aware that he's not the first one in this ragged band of miscreants that you've crawled into bed with. You've fucked Jin, and Shigaraki, and probably even Magne, god rest her soul—Dabi hadn't missed the way the two of you had huddled up giggling in the corner of the old bar one night, disappearing together unusually early, making those bedroom eyes at each other. And in theory that's fine. Nothing wrong with two girls having fun together, after all. Hell, bi chicks are hot and Dabi wouldn't mind taking advantage of that someday.

But first he needs to find a way to get the image of you with your legs spread for half the League out of his goddamn head.

If he's being honest, it's Shigaraki who bothers him the most. Magne is dead. Jin is a decent dude and, Dabi has to imagine, tame as a kitten in the sack. But Shigaraki, well...Dabi can tell just by looking at the guy that he's a freak, and the idea of you riding Shigaraki's dry, crusty dick, of letting him do who-knows-what filthy shit to you? It just gets to him.

And then Toga has to suggest that stupid game and go putting ideas in his head.

You're all sitting around the crumbling office space that passes for a hideout, drinking to celebrate the League's first successful double-amputation (because fuck that germophobic, transphobic prick), and blondie is just begging to play a drinking game. Normally Dabi doesn't go for that shit—why anyone needs an excuse to get wasted is beyond him—but he's in a good mood, and you make that adorable pouty face as you tell him that you played in college, that it's really fun, and somehow he finds himself sitting in a circle on the dusty floor with the rest of you losers playing 'I haven't' or whatever the fuck it's called.

It's all bland shit to start. Toga's never driven a car, Shigaraki's never gone to school. But, after you've made your way around the circle once, everyone seems to be loosening up and Spinner takes one for the team by getting to the interesting shit and admitting he's never slept with a girl. It spurs a moment of awkward silence made all the worse by his red face and obvious self-consciousness about being a virgin, but then Compress stage-whispers "Neither have I," before winking salaciously at the blushing lizard and taking a dramatic pull from his beer bottle. It's enough to lighten the mood.

After that, Dabi's forced to admit it's a decent game. There's not much he hasn't done sexually or criminally, and since those are the two topics everyone focuses on, he finds himself getting hammered faster than usual. It's a good thing too—his buzz makes it easier to ignore the look you and Shigaraki exchange when Jin announces that he's never tried watersports, easier to pretend his gut isn't twisting at the knowing smirk on your leader's face as he raises his beer bottle to drink and you follow suit.

That particular moment makes it all the more surprising when, on your next turn, you hide an embarrassed face behind your hand and announce that you've never taken it in the ass.

Dabi can't stop thinking about it the rest of the night. Obsessing over it, and the idea of being your first, your only, even if only in some less than conventional way. The thing is, it's downright tame in comparison to a lot of what you two get up to, so barely even kinky that it's almost impossible to believe you've never tried it. Sure, you've never done it together, but he'd just figured neither of you were all that into it, since it hadn't come up when you were doing lewd shit to each other.

That kind of sex is fine from his perspective, but only fine. He doesn't actively seek it out because in his mind nothing beats the feel of being balls-deep in a warm pussy, but that doesn't mean he hasn't done it. He's hooked up with plenty of girls that were into it and has always been happy to oblige; hell, he's even taken it more than once, on account of the fact that when it comes to the bedroom he's willing to try anything twice.

But doing it with you? Well, that thought sticks. The two of you finally go to bed and Dabi's so turned on by the idea of your virgin ass that he can't help testing the waters, prodding teasingly at that tight hole with one spit-slicked finger until you're squirming away and whining. He doesn't manage to convince you right then, but he makes those puppy dog eyes that are far more effective than they have any right to be, and you agree to give it a go in the future.

"Not here," you specify, the words fuzzy on your drunken tongue. "Someplace nicer, with a real bed." You already have your reservations, and you certainly don't relish the idea of undertaking that particular venture now, on a worn mattress in this falling apart building, with its paper-thin walls and complete lack of hot water. Between your booze-fueled haze and the seeming interminability of the League's poverty, you mostly forget about that casual promise by the following morning.

But Dabi doesn't. He picks up a small bottle of lube the next day and carries it around in his pocket shamelessly, a little reminder that he has something to look forward to besides roasting that prick Endeavor, and he strokes himself off to the idea more than he's proud to admit as he waits for the League to move on to better things. He can be patient, when he needs to be.

That patience takes a toll though, and the minute the League settles into their new digs in Re-Destro's sprawling villa, where there's actually privacy and clean, comfortable beds, Dabi shows up at your door with a cheshire grin and every intention of finally getting something from you that's just for him.

You grimace when you remember that promise, try briefly to talk him out of it even, but he isn't so easily dissuaded. It's made all the harder by the fact that you can't give him a specific reason why you've never tried it, beyond that it seems uncomfortable and you hadn't particularly enjoyed the couple instances when you'd allowed someone to slip a finger or two in there.

"C'mon, baby girl," Dabi coos, his breath hot in your ear as he pins you to the wall, working two unnaturally warm fingers into your cunt. "I'll make sure it's good for you. Be gentle, get you nice and warmed up first, all that sweet shit."

It really is unfair how persuasive he can be when he fixes those pleading turquoise eyes on you. The way the pads of his fingers are curling just right deep inside isn't helping either, and he teases you like that until you give in to his cajoling, though you still insist on waiting a couple nights so that you can do your research and make sure you're entirely prepared. Dabi demonstrates his appreciation by burying his face in your cunt and not surfacing for air until you've come three times and are begging for a break.

When the night finally arrives, Dabi's feeling positively giddy. He slips into your bedroom with a bottle of wine and a couple glasses he's brought, a little something to help you relax because he's a gentleman when he wants to be. It should be good booze too—he lifted it from Re-Destro's private stash, and he's certain baldy doesn't drink anything that costs less than ¥30,000. Of course, Re-Destro doesn't love sharing either, but the uptight prick is too scared of Shigaraki to complain about anything the League does. They all take advantage of that, because they can and because it's fun to watch him bite his tongue when they piss him off.

You don't make it easy for Dabi to focus on pouring the drinks though, not when you're reclining in that armchair by the window, freshly showered and fidgeting nervously. He was half-erect before he got here from just thinking about what he was going to do to you, and the sight of you acting like you're some blushing virgin spurs him all the way to rock-hard. By the time your glasses are close to empty, he's straining uncomfortably in his pants, and can't fight back his impatience any longer.

"What do you think, doll?" he murmurs, setting his glass to the side and standing up, shrugging his jacket off before leaning down to ghost his lips over your neck. "You ready to move this to the bed?"

The way you chew at your lower lip anxiously before nodding makes his dick throb.

You empty your glass with one final, large swallow, your heart racing as you rise. You know it's stupid—you and Dabi have fucked countless times and a lot of it hasn't exactly been vanilla—but it's been a long time since you've actually tried anything new. His obvious excitement doesn't help either, paradoxically; it leaves you fretting about what will happen if you're somehow bad at this, or if you can't take it and have to stop. You've never really worried about disappointing him before, but now the thought weighs acutely on your mind.

It's with halting steps that you approach the bed and then, when you can't realistically drag your feet any longer, you finally tug the nightgown you're wearing off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal what's underneath.

"Damn, baby girl," Dabi breathes, looking you up and down. You'd figured that since it was a special occasion you might as well dress up, donning a strappy bra and panties. They're little more than elaborate, crisscrossing pieces of lace, all white since he'd seemed so fixated on this pseudo-innocent, first-time act. His reaction doesn't disappoint, eyes lighting up as he stares at you hungrily.

You let yourself fall back on the bed, nestling against the many pillows. The look on his face has your stomach fluttering, and the wine has helped you to relax a bit despite your nerves, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout your body. It's joined by a different kind of heat when you feel the mattress dip beneath Dabi's weight as he positions himself over you, one knee resting between your thighs, just barely brushing against your center, a hint of what's to come.

"You look so good I could just eat you up," Dabi whispers hotly against your ear before tracing his lips over your jaw. Even though he wants to take his time, let himself savor this, it's taking every ounce of patience he has to keep the promise he made to get you worked up and ready for him, to not to tear those pretty bits of satin and lace off and have his way with you right then.

You whine eagerly when his mouth slants hungrily over yours, savoring the feel of those mismatched lips, the way the rough skin of the bottom one contrasts so deliciously with the top. Hot hands run over your sides as the kiss deepens, your tongues tangling together, and you moan against him.

When you finally break for air, Dabi moves his lips to your throat, his tongue lapping at your pulse before he sinks his teeth into you. He loves to mark you up, loves making sure everyone can see that you're indisputably his, and it's even hotter now that he knows he's going to fuck you in a way no one else has. You're shivering beneath him as he works, your hand tugging insistently at his hair, and Dabi lets out a low, throaty growl.

"Guess I'm not the only one who's eager, huh?"

Your hips tilt in response, pressing needily into his firm thigh, and Dabi can feel the skin on his cheeks straining against his staples as he grins. He traces one hand up over your ribs, cupping at your supple breasts, teasing your hardening nipple through the flimsy fabric of your bra. Those deft fingers work under the seam of your lingerie as he shifts his weight, increasing the pressure against your center while he pinches and tugs at the peaks of your breasts until you're whimpering, spreading slick along his leg even through your thin panties.

Dabi pulls away abruptly, rolling onto his back and tugging at you to change positions, shaking his head when you move to mount his hips.

"Come here, baby girl," he says, his tongue tracing over his bottom lip. "Like I said, I wanna eat you up."

The promise in those words sends a bolt of heat straight through your core as he guides you to straddle his face, hot breath tickling your inner thighs. One calloused thumb brushes your clit lightly through your underwear, blue eyes sparkling when your breath hitches at that soft touch. When he pulls that useless fabric to the side and runs his tongue over your already-damp slit, you shudder.

Dabi lets out a pleased groan at your reaction and gets to work more earnestly, lapping at your sensitive nub, licking and sucking until you're moaning and only then shifting a little so that he can lap at your insides, that same rough thumb replacing the pressure of his tongue on your clit. It strokes firm circles as he buries that hot, wet muscle inside you, the metal barbell there teasing your inner walls as you grind involuntarily against it. You can't help but whine when he withdraws it, but that disappointment is quickly replaced by you startling as that same wet muscle extends further back to tease at your puckered entrance.

"A-ah, Dabi, wait," you protest, your face heating up self-consciously almost at once.

Dabi pauses, shifting just enough to keep his reply from being muffled as one warm hand runs reassuringly up your thigh. "I don't think I can help myself, doll," he says, his slick-coated lips splitting into a wide grin, "you just taste too good."

That heat in your face worsens as he dives back in, not even waiting for you to respond before he's flexing his tongue to poke at that tight ring of muscle. You still try to squirm away, feeling unprepared for this. You hadn't even considered it among the possible activities were volunteering to participate in, but Dabi is holding you firmly in place with the hand not working at your clit, and when another whine of protest escapes you, it's weaker than the first. The foreign sensation of his tongue against your neglected hole has you hyperaware of the press of his thumb at your apex, and you can feel tension building in your core even as you writhe in embarrassment.

It's as though he knows, too, and you suppose maybe he does; after all, he's the one who's done this before. He thrusts his tongue a little deeper, rolling your clit between two hot fingers with enough pressure to cut off any further protests. A long moan is the only sound you can muster as you spill over the edge, your thighs clenching around his head and your hips jerking shakily as you ride out your climax with his tongue still buried obscenely in your rear.

Dabi's face is covered in your juices by the time he slides from between your thighs, and he wipes it away carelessly with one arm as he repositions you again, pinning you on your back and wasting no time peeling away your now-soaked panties. He grins at the sight of your glistening folds and swollen clit before stripping off most of his own clothes, kicking them unceremoniously to the side and relaxing between your legs, kissing at your still-trembling thighs.

He teases at your sensitive cunt with his fingers, coating them in your juices as you whimper. "Ready for a little more?" he asks, and you nod despite the fact that your cheeks are still burning from before and your stomach is knotting with nerves.

"Just...go slow, okay?"

"Of course, baby girl," he promises, "I told you I'd take good care of you." With that, he starts to work you open, dipping one finger into your tight hole just until he reaches the first knuckle, working it in and out slowly. His other hand toys at your clit, stroking and rolling that puffy nub again, making you mewl.

Dabi waits until you're relaxed before trying any more, pulling away from you just long enough to dig the lube from the pocket of his discarded pants, coating his fingers with it. He works that lone finger deeper this time, in and out until it's buried to the last knuckle.

The sensation is strange, but not entirely unpleasant; even if you think you'd rather have that finger curling in your cunt, the slight stretch is still adding to the faint throb already growing inside you, the one that worsens when his thumb returns to your apex.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Dabi growls when one well-placed stroke of his thumb has you clenching lightly around his finger. He ruts his hips against the sheets, trying vainly to find some relief for his aching member, but it's not enough—he needs to feel you, needs the vice-like grip clutching his fingers to be wrapped around his cock, and he needs it soon.

You feel him withdraw to add more lube, and then he's fingering you again, adding another digit to stretch you wider. It comes with a stab of discomfort when he forces his way past the second knuckle, and you reflexively try to pull back. "Dabi, that's too much."

He abandons his soothing attentions to your clit, one warm palm pressing you tight against the mattress to keep you in place, stroking soothingly at your hip. His breath tickles over your inner thigh as he chuckles softly. "If you can't take this, how are you ever gonna take me, hmm?" he says teasingly. "You're doing great, baby, just relax."

You will yourself to unclench, trying to picture Dabi's satisfied face once you're taking him, that adoring look he sometimes gives you, the one that you relish. Your efforts are only marginally effective, but Dabi keeps pushing deeper, fucking you slowly but insistently with those fingers, and when you don't complain again, his thumb returns to caressing your sex.

"That's a good girl." Dabi picks up the pace, cursing under his breath. "You're doing so good."

You're wriggling against his hand now, trying to increase the friction at your center, not quite minding the foreign sensation of his fingers and the uncanny fullness they bring so much now that there's heat thrumming in your core. "Y-yeah, like that," you pant encouragingly, and Dabi grins.

"That doing it for you?" he purrs. "Think you can take more?"

You start to shake your head—the stretch now feels like all you can handle—but Dabi's already adding a third slick finger, shoving it in with less restraint than before. You feel more than discomfort this time when three knuckles breach your asshole, and it quickly dampens the arousal that had been steadily building. "Dabi, slow down," you gasp.

"Aw, are you sure you can't handle it?" His blue eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide with arousal as he looks you over with the hungry gaze. "'Cause if I'm being honest, it feels like you're trying to suck me in. Like this greedy little hole wants to get fucked."

The huskiness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, even as another whine of discomfort escapes you. For just a second his expression darkens slightly, but then he's slowing his movements, twisting his fingers instead of thrusting them in and out.

"Better?" he asks, and you think you catch an edge of impatience in his voice.

It is better though, a little at least, enough that you can focus on the way your cunt flutters every time his thumb strokes over your clit. So you just nod; it's not like this wasn't bound to be a little unpleasant at points, right?

Dabi's smile stretches wider, his thumb working faster. A mewl slips from between your lips and Dabi takes that as encouragement, his fingers resuming their persistent thrusts. It's still uncomfortable, though not quite as bad as when he started, and your teeth sink into your lower lip to bite back your complaints. You let your eyes fall closed instead, trying to focus on his attentions to your hooded nub, on the heat that's pooling in your lower belly. You're inching towards another release, and you let a hand lift to your breast, tweaking at the pebbled flesh of one nipple to help yourself along.

"D-dabi, I'm close," you stammer, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Yeah?" His movements speed up, his voice breathy and excited. "Do it, baby girl. Come for me and then I'm gonna fuck this tight little ass of yours."

You swallow hard, trying not to dwell on those words for now—you can tell you've loosened up more, tolerating the jab of his fingers, but his cock is substantially larger than those, all too intimidating. Thankfully, it's not hard to remain distracted, to focus only on your approaching peak.

Dabi can feel that orgasm rip through you when it hits, your asshole clenching around his fingers as you keen, and it's then that he reaches the limits of his patience. He needs you now, needs the thrill of burying himself in your tight ass and claiming you for his own, of reaching his own release deep inside and then watching his seed spill out afterwards. What a satisfying sight that will be.

He scrambles up from between your legs to catch your lips with his, fumbling his boxers off as his tongue invades your mouth. When he pulls away, his eyes are bright, needy. "Ready for me?" he asks.

You're not, not really, but you can see the fervor in his eyes, hear the urgency in his voice, and you convince yourself that he won't be able to work you open much more with his fingers no matter what. Your agreement doesn't matter anyway—he's already rolling you onto your side and slotting his chest against your back, his straining erection poking at the cleft between your thighs.

"Like this?" you ask, surprised by the choice of position.

"Just like this," he pants in your ear. His teeth nibble at your lobe as he slicks his cock generously with lube. "Want you spooned against me so I can see those cute faces you make, feel you squirming when you take me."

And fuck, when he slips one hand back down to finger your asshole one last time, it doesn't disappoint—your body ripples against him when that invasion catches you off guard, and he can see the way your lips part obscenely as you gasp at his touch. His fingers abandon your tight hole almost as quickly as they'd entered, and then Dabi is aligning himself with your entrance, using the last of his restraint not to slam his hips forward and bury himself inside with a single thrust.

You can feel the spongy head of his glans, and the slick coolness of the ring that adorns his tip, prodding at your rear. One of his arms worms its way under your side, his hand groping distractedly at your breasts as you tense in anticipation.

"Relax, baby girl," he murmurs, but he doesn't wait for you to even try. He's already slipping in, moving slowly until he encounters resistance an inch or so inside, and then pausing.

He has to struggle to keep his composure. Even like this, with not even the full head of his cock in your ass, his balls are tightening, just the thought of what he's doing nearly enough to send him over the brink. He waits until he's sure that won't happen and then starts moving, pushing insistently to work you open around his length with shallow thrusts.

"A-ah, Dabi, g-go easy," you stutter, already squirming. You can feel your body resisting the intrusion, so much larger than his fingers, and it aches slightly every time he tries to breach that inner ring.

"I am, baby, don't worry. I'll take care of you." His cheek is nuzzling against yours, his lips kissing and sucking wherever he can reach, but his motions don't change at all even as he murmurs so sweetly. He only slings one arm over your hips, toying lazily at your clit. That attention helps you relax, helps distract you a little, but it's not enough to prepare you for when he drives himself in further, finally surging past that taut band of muscle.

The invasion brings a sharp pain, one that has you crying out. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your body reflexively contorting to try and escape the cause of that hurt, but his arms tighten around you, holding you in place as he continues to work himself deeper with every thrust.

"Dabi, that hurts." Your words are sharper this time as each stroke sends another unpleasant throb through your overstretched hole, but his only response is to plunge the fingers rubbing at your clit into your dripping cunt.

"Shh, you're doing great." He curls his fingers, stroking against that spongy spot deep inside. It makes you writhe, but that does nothing to address the pain between your legs as he fucks you.

"Dabi, don't, that's not helping, I—"

"It's okay, baby girl, you're taking me so well," Dabi coos. You'll adjust, he knows you will—you're usually up for anything, of course you can take this. And fuck, there's no way he can stop now, not when it's even better than he'd imagined—hotter and softer, your pillowy walls enveloping his length every time he plunges into you, the exquisite tightness of your entrance massaging his shaft with each thrust.

"I'm not— I don't— I don't want to do this anymore." You can hear the desperate edge in your voice now. Your heart is racing and there's a cold sweat forming on your skin as tears of pain and confusion start to leak down your cheeks. "Dabi, stop."

"Shh, shh, you're fine. You—fuck—you feel so amazing. 'S never been this good with anyone else, fuck."

"I don't care, I don't want this." You can't understand what's happening, why he's not listening. You twist your head to look at him, pleading with your eyes, but he's barely even focusing on you. His blue eyes are glazed and half-lidded as his lips wander over your shoulders and your neck, all the while murmuring those useless reassurances against your skin. You're thrashing now, your feet scrambling for purchase on the sheets as you try frantically to pull away, but he keeps his tight grip on you, one of his legs hooking around your own to hold you in place. "Dabi, I said stop!"

He shushes you again, rutting into you harshly, and a choked sob escapes you when he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your backside as you struggle against him. You feel sick to your stomach, and it only worsens when he pulls out until nothing but his tip remains, then drives himself back in with one agonizingly rough thrust.

You keep begging, pleading, wracking your brain and trying every past safe word you can recall, but he only continues to pound into you, his breathing erratic as he pants in your ear. "It's okay, baby. You're taking my cock like such a good girl. You're—ngh—making me feel so good."

The ache between your legs is diminishing slightly as you adjust to his girth, your body entirely unconcerned with whether you want that or not. He's still fingering your sopping cunt too, his palm grinding against your oversensitive clit with each plunge of his long digits, the lewd squelching sound of those attentions mingling with the sharp slap of his hips against your ass as he fucks you.

"You like this?" he asks, but you know he's not really asking. "You like knowing I'm the only one? That I'm making you mine, just mine, just like how it should be?"

"Dabi, stop. Please stop." Your appeals are feeble now, far more for yourself than for him as you continue to utter them between quiet sobs. Dabi's somewhere far away, awash in the tight heat of your ass and the satisfaction of finally staking his claim on you, aware of your supplications but not hearing them, not really.

You slump, still sobbing, and let him take what he wants. His attentions to your cunt have a coil tightening in your gut, but when your climax hits it's perfunctory and mechanical, no real pleasure to be found even as your hips jerk and your holes spasm, a joyless whine passing from your lips.

No real pleasure for you, at least. But fuck, the feel of you squeezing around his cock as you come is what Dabi has been waiting for, your insides massaging his length as though desperate for him to decorate your walls with his cum. It's a gift he's glad to grant—he rocks his hips more urgently, keeping his thrusts shallow now so that he's sure to get it all deep inside.

"Fuck," he groans against your neck. "Gonna make me come, baby girl. That what you want? Want me to fill you up?" You shake your head, but his movements are already growing spurtive and erratic, his grunts louder and throatier, and then you can feel his cock jerking inside you, a hot rush of cum flooding your guts.

Dabi doesn't stop then, either, keeps fucking his seed into you until he's softening, not quite able to work himself in and out of your tight, abused hole any longer, and only then does he finally pull out, a dribble of cum leaking obscenely down your thigh.

You're sniffling, drawing shaky breaths, and you try to pull away the moment his arms relax around you. They only tighten again, his lips planting soft kisses along your temple.

"Shh," he murmurs. The sound of his shushing makes you want to scream. One hand lifts to wipe at the tears on your cheeks. "You were so good, baby girl, there's no need to cry. You were fucking incredible." He means it too, doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life as he did now, making you his.

Dabi can't wait to do it again.

[rurifangirl]

chile, could ya explain the magic system in yo oc world more? im kinda confused w how it works👁👄👁

Oh boy, here we go bitches.

So as an intro to this, I said bout last oc post in Qiran's part that their fam was full of mages n shit, but also some of em weren't, n since they do have magic istelf Imma do more parts (3 parts)

First part- how does It all work (Humans/Mages)

First of all, not all of em have a connection with magic, for example Evelyn doesn't at all while Lyva does but only through a magical item so It doesn't really count.

Other then that, if you're born you can either be born with some kind of magic, or simply not. It all depends from your family's lineage, for example If you come from a family of mainly rougues it's hard to get some kind of magical power, while if your parents have both some kind of power or even if it's only one of em, it's more likely you'll end up with something really similar, or a mixture of the two. (In case both of your parents have magical powers of any sort.)

It also depends on where you're living, for example If you'd be born from a cold place it's unlikely ya'd have magma magic rather than snow magic.

Between humans/mages the system Is kinda the same, but that does change for Hybrids/Demi gods/anything that isn't born between the same species.

Between humans/mages it's more of how their ancestors managed to treat its powers, as some got even destroyed for not being worthy of its usage, so If anything at this point and time they're lucky about getting somethin.

Mages are far more cautious about It, having both a lot of hidden knowlege about spells or even origins of some types of magic, though that being the most "common" ones, (for example fire, water ect.), because it's not only them of course, there's far more variants and all are different from eachother.

They can also get stronger by the worshipping of certain gods, which I don't think I will really talk about, at least in this post. (And also because they're still a wip of mine)

But the gang until now really never relied on any of them, or at least Lyva/Rui n Naexi never really did, while the others absolutely did. This Is also why I will do another post as a sorta of a part 2.

Anyways back on topic, most people in all parts of my oc world aren't used to worshipping anymore, or at least a great part of It, mainly because of a loss of knowlege about anything about them.

It's kind of taboo even mentioning most gods names, as they fear something will go wrong if they would (*ahem*being suspicious n allarmin the cult*AHEM*). In fact it's hard to get on most religions because the only remains of It are extremely either hidden, or destroyed in the meanwhile.

I wanna say that another reason because the worshipping stopped Is also because of Rui's cult. Yes, remember that?

It's gonna be talked about on its own post, but let's just say that for them, it's a safe way to restrain anyone knowing far too much about how everything works.

They're the only ones owning most stuff about different coltures to avoid having them against their side,

If there's no worshippers, no knowlege, n more weak magic because people don't strengthen them, who's gonna go against em? (It'll turn out to be the shittiest idea they've ever had but that really did work for the longest time.)

Oh I think i forgot to mention this, but since magic goes lineage to lineage, It also weakenens as generations pass by, as THAT'S the reason they absolutely need those texts.

That's also the reason most humans struggle w keepin magic. Mages can manage, though it's a small portion, since sometimes not even what they've learned over generations works anymore.

Second part- how does It all work (Hybrids/Demi gods n stuff)

Oh boy, so, I'm also gonna use Shou n Naexi a lot here, so bear w me. As I said earlier, it's different from em, since it's not about lineage at all.

Apart that the union between different species Is both a taboo n seen as something "ashaming",so even if they had a child It was more likely they'd Hide It or leave It behind. So it's already a really, god-awful situation for them.

The magic works kinda randomly, in the sense that since the hybrid's nature is seen as unstable to begin w, there's no real critere to handle how the child born Is gonna turn out to be.

Sometimes it's really hard to notice, having yeah some features but can be hidden really easly, but other times Is just, a real mess between the two species, n the magic Is also uncontrollable, especially during their first years of life.

For example, in Shou's case he used to really switch a lot between em, that being the reason he later on prefers not to switch, n havin to learn as soon as possible how to learn how his magic n form would work w It, having again a lot of preassure comin from people he knew.

This Is unfortunatly a really common situation between most hybrids. And there's also no choise.

If you as an hybrid can control magic w/o anything to rely on then you can live, while if you cannot do It, it's a matter of time before you'd get zoned out by everyone and everything.

This Is a big issue, other than having everything fucked by the cult but that's another story.

Aight now bout demi-gods, they're also really not seen well. Most of them prefer not to interact at all with anything that Is not godly related, and in fact, most of em even refused to adknowledge their mortal parent, since they all have resentment over the sudden disappereance of all belivers.

If anything Naexi Is a weird one at that, as they did have a suddent interest in humans and ungodly creatures, though still recognized about how cruel any of them could've been, especially she's a demi-god and has a bad reputation at that.

The magic system Is relatively simple, they just get a certain amount of power from their god parent and are actually pretty capable of controlling them in confront of Hybrids.

That mainly comes from a special connection w their god parent's power, so in theory they're sort of devoted to them.

I wanna expand this when I'll do the gods post n finnaly introduce some of em (And potentially Naexi's mother👀), so I'll not go beyond this atm.

Third part- Magical items/weapons

Aight onto another important part, which Is basically how tf would that work. We have that comin from Qiran's sword n Lyva's earrings, so they'll also be later on disscussed bout.

Even though it's a tough and long procedure, you can transport some of your own magic onto somethin as ordinary as an hat or as sharp as a dagger.

This Is being mainly used in emergency situations, as that energy can eventually be re-used later on by its user.

The user can be changed as long as there's a deal between both parties, whether that being a gift, buying It, or anythin up to them really.

It can also be a great way to hide mage's power, since there are some parts where they arent exactly that respected, so they could blend in with normal humans.

In fact, Qiran does that continiously thanks to their sword, daggers and other lil weapons, and they keep a big part of It there, to seem rather a normal knight/adventurer rather than havin somethin supernatural goin on.

They have a great holdo it since their father did make them learn to fulfill their request to be freerly goin round.

With Lyva it's not really different, even if she kinda stole It n there wasn't really a deal at that moment, but before runnin away from everyone n everything she convinced her mother to give her something that she could use to defend herself, since they were never around and when they were, they would've kinda avoided her.

Oh, and to add this, you could also curse an item. It's a way to mainly punish since ,well, it's a curse,

and makes the user either completely obsessed with the object itself or makin them do somethin w/o any type of consent, whether physical or emotional.

In some cases It can also be a torture tool. Though, as some recent stuff happened, they're somewhat hard to find.

If you still have somethin unclear lemme know cuz idk If I covered everythin or if somethin ain't clear enough😭

Tags undercut:

@a-chaotic-dumbass @spoopy-fish-writes @dopesaladlady @damnfoxx @audre-falrose @nadi-117

(If you want your tag removed/added either dm me/go in the ask thing or do the tag thingy in the pinned comment‼️)

[piyoduki]

Hinata and Kamukura

(wow what a creative title)

Just a place for me to dump my thoughts on these two, and why they are so important to each other... This is another really long essay analysis thingy.

Spoiler warning for... everything. :p

1. Reserve Course

Hinata is an ordinary guy who loved and admired Hope’s Peak Academy. He loves talent, and wishes he could attain a talent and become someone recognised by society.

Hinata always calls himself normal, and says there’s nothing noteworthy about him. But unlike Naegi, Hinata was not satisfied with being normal. Hinata was obsessed with talent, because he believed he needed one to become someone he could be proud of, to be acknowledged by others. That was why he wanted to enter Hope’s Peak Academy so much.

(Horror game protagonist?)

DR’s society is one that puts talented individuals, the best of the best, above everyone else. SDR2 and DR3 give us a look at just how the other people in this world, the ones who were not chosen by Hope’s Peak Academy, feel. Hinata is the one who represents the hopes and despairs of the common people.

Hinata’s hopes about the school were quickly dashed when he realises just how they were treated in comparison to the Main Course students, aka the Ultimates. It’s also interesting that despite claiming to love the school, Hinata doesn’t actually know how the Reserve Course differs from the Main Course. It appears that Hinata believed that he would be able to get a talent and become an Ultimate even if he entered through the Reserve Course. Either the school hid the dark reality of the Reserve Course (which wouldn’t be surprising), or Hinata didn’t actually dig deeper in his research. Especially considering he did not even try to apply for the position of Ultimate Luck (he did not even know about that, actually), I believe that Hinata is someone who doesn’t like to confront his greatest fears or worries, and by choosing to remain ignorant, he can hold on to his rosy image of a school that can make his dreams come true. 

Of course, he can’t be ignorant of the truth once he’s actually in the school. Already, he can see a clear difference in how they were treated. The Main Course students are allowed to move between schools easily, but he (and the other Reserve Course students) get beaten up just for trying to enter the building? When his friend and classmate gets murdered by another Reserve Course student, that student then gets murdered by a Main Course student... who never got any sort of punishment? Two Reserve Course students lost their lives and the Main Course student who committed the same grave crime got their crime covered up? (Off-topic but isn’t it weird that Komaeda gets expelled for property damage but Fuyuhiko gets no punishment for MURDER... are the yakuza that powerful? Or more like why does DR3 want to make fun of Komaeda so much?)

And those are just what we see on screen. There is clearly some animosity between Main and Reserve Course students given Hinata’s class seemed very annoyed and hostile towards Koizumi when she went to visit Sato. The whole atmosphere of the Reserve Course is gloomy and depressing, compared to the Main Course where they were skipping class, throwing parties and playing games... We can infer what other micro-aggressions and unfair treatment the Reserve Course students felt when compared to the Main Course.

I have seen some people say that Hinata went through with the Kamukura Project because he wanted to impress Nanami... which I strongly disagree with. If anything it looked like he wanted to avoid her because he knew she would try to stop him. Hinata was fed up with being treated like second-rate trash. Not to mention he already has the pressure of his parents having to pay high school fees (that the Main Course most likely didn’t need to, given there are a few students in debt), so dropping out would disappoint them (and Hinata is stubborn and doesn’t give up easily once he’s decided to stick to something). Natsumi dying was simply the last straw. When he’s given the chance to become the person he’s always dreamed of becoming, a person full of talent, at this point where Hinata was at his lowest, there isn’t anything holding him back anymore. He is no longer afraid of something going wrong, because he’d already seen his classmates DIE, and the perpetrator with an Ultimate talent got to walk away scot-free. If he doesn’t take this chance now, he might end up the same way.

And he most likely would have, given all 2375 Reserve Course students committed a mass suicide. 2357 people who were not even named, or treated as individuals, who were just lumped into one number without any identity beyond having no talent.

By deciding to take part in the Kamukura Project, Hinata was able to live.

2. Kamukura Izuru Project

Or not really, because Hinata got his memories and consciousness erased. Can walking around as an emotionless shell really be called ‘living’? Junko implied that some messed up stuff happened to Hinata during the process, and I don’t know much about brain surgery... but we can imagine it was very painful and not ethical. Like Junko said, in order to completely rewrite Hinata’s personality, the researchers would have to go through drastic measure to accomplish something like that.

When did Hinata stopped being Hinata and when did he become Kamukura? We don’t know. But Hinata could feel everything when he was still Hinata. The fear, anger, regrets, pain, isolation... the feeling when he starts to realise he’s becoming numb. The feeling when he realises he can’t remember certain things. Soon the time will come when he can’t even remember anything. And he doesn’t even care anymore, because his emotions had been repressed to such an extent. (Does he even need anaesthesia to be operated on if he doesn’t feel pain? Hmm.)

He is now called Kamukura Izuru by the scientists who created him. Just like the other Reserve Course students, Hinata’s identity was erased and discarded. 

In V3′s UTDP, Kamukura introduces himself in this way, basically showing he doesn’t really feel like he has a sense of identity either.

Kamukura is the proud product of the scientists’ hard work. Yet he is a secret who cannot be shown to the world, not just yet. The school claims it is to protect such rare talent, that he would somehow be mankind’s saviour. But it would surely tarnish Hope’s Peak Academy’s reputation, if the rest of the world knew what kind of lengths they went through to create such artificial hope anyway. And who knows just how much more they could push Kamukura’s talents? If Junko didn’t take over the school and call out to him, who knows what would happen to Kamukura? Would they dispose of him once their success was recorded and it might be too dangerous to keep a human experiment around? Would they fear the very being that they had created, that could easily overpower them if he wanted to? Would Kamukura, who had no motivation or reason to live, even care if he were to get killed...?

Kamukura was locked up in a dark room with just a bed. We can assume he was only let out to undergo tests and such. He was given the bare minimum for survival, and because Kamukura had no motivations, he did not want or need anything else... but he was extremely bored. Kamukura’s whole life was confined to his empty room and the lab. He could definitely escape if he wanted to, but what point was there in leaving? He could predict everything that would happen. To him, the outside world was probably as boring as the world inside the lab, or at least not worth the effort of sneaking out or escaping. (Although he did sneak out once in the DR3 anthology... and as you might have guessed, he found it boring.) 

Junko is the one who gave Kamukura a motivation. She promised him the thrills and excitement of a world filled with despair. Kamukura had nothing to lose by going along with her plans, and in the best case scenario she would be correct and perhaps he might just feel something through despair. 

Despite being apathetic and having all the talents... Kamukura does want to feel something. Because nothing surprises him, because he can predict everything, because he doesn’t feel challenged by anything, because he finds everything boring, Kamukura wants to find that something that can make him feel. And Junko promised he could find it through despair.

So she puts him into the Student Council Killing Game where he just... stands around and watch them. It isn’t until the very end when a bullet grazes his cheek where he gets somewhat surprised, and kills the student in self defence.

Junko uses him as a scapegoat to blame the killing of the student council on, and Kamukura starts to show signs of annoyance at being used. Eventually Junko kills Nanami, and Hinata’s subconscious reacts to the death of yet another of his friends, causing Kamukura to tear up. Although he is confused by the reaction, he holds on to her hairpin as a reminder. Hinata was still not truly gone, and he caused Kamukura to feel the most emotion he had felt in his short years of existence. 

In UDG, Kamukura aggressively rips out Junko’s AI in annoyance, showing that he isn’t truly emotionless and he does dislike being used in such a matter. It’s also possible he was disappointed as despair did not really make him feel much. Still he goes along with her plan to infect the NWP and turn it into a killing game, but mostly to use it as a final showdown between hope and despair.

I say ‘final’, because the two options would both lead to Kamukura being erased and replaced by a different person.

3. Neo World Program and the Virtual Killing Game

Kamukura knew that he would not be able to take part in SDR2′s killing game, and told Komaeda that in Chapter 0. He knew that his previous self (Hinata) would be used as the avatar, so once again he could only watch from afar (was he even conscious?).

Kamukura went in knowing that if the rehabilitation of the Remnants of Despair was a success, then Hinata would live on as Hinata, and his memories and identity of Kamukura Izuru might be suppressed and erased (sound familiar?). If Junko’s plan succeeded, then she would upload her AI into all of the Remnant’s bodies and continue spreading despair. 

Kamukura, before that point, had barely found a reason to live. But it still wasn’t strong enough to convince him. So if he were going to die, then at the very least he wanted to see if hope or despair could really excite him. If not, then at that point, would there be anything that could make him feel anything? Perhaps nothing would change even if he were to disappear. If he were to just keep being used by others to achieve such a boring, predictable hope or despair, then maybe he didn’t mind just dying. Perhaps, since death is what made him able to feel something, by putting himself in such a situation, he might even feel the fear of death itself?

And so Kamukura Izuru hijacked the NWP and Hinata Hajime was pulled out from the deepest recesses of his mind, and was able to live in the NWP.

But this Hinata isn’t the Hinata that is all too aware of the reality of being a talentless person in a world loved by talent. This Hinata is a fellow student in a class full of Ultimates. SDR2′s Hinata wanted to believe that he has a talent. When he sees the rest of the students, how they act, how some of them got to the school of his dreams through something like luck? Helped by Komaeda’s supportive words, Hinata believes that he must have just forgotten his talent due to the shock of suddenly waking up on a deserted island. Not to mention his memory of entering the school felt fuzzy in the first place, so it must be true. Since he was surrounded by Ultimates, he had to have one too. 

That’s why, in SDR2, Hinata presents himself as a person who is more confident in himself. He sees himself as an equal to all the Ultimates, compared to Komaeda who clearly views himself as beneath the others. Hinata is able to feel comfortable making sarcastic remarks and comments about the others, because he believes he is just like them. But as the game progresses, Hinata starts to doubt himself. In Chapter 3, he starts to have some hazy memories that he tried to suppress.

It’s possible that he might have contracted the Despair Disease from Tsumiki and was starting to remember his past, before he entered Hope’s Peak Academy. Either way, as usual, Hinata continues to ignore his problems and negative thoughts.

When he hears about the traitor, while he did not want to believe it, he started to think it might be him. After all, he was the only one here who did not remember their talent. If he forgot something so important, perhaps it’s possible that he forgot he was the traitor as well. Despite his attempts to fit in with everyone, Hinata still felt left out from the others. 

But Hinata continued to believe he was not the traitor, that his talent would come to him eventually, because he didn’t want to face what would happen IF he were the traitor. In Chapter 4, he reacts negatively to Komaeda and Souda suspecting him of being the traitor. He started acting more depressed and impulsive, not helped by the fact he had gone without food and being trapped in the Funhouse for a few days. Not to mention, he was the one who pushed everyone to go to the Funhouse so they could find the truth of their missing memories, in other words his talent. 

Hinata became desperate, when he heard that there was a chance he might find out the truth through the Final Dead Room, he was ready to risk his life and go inside, but Nanami stopped him just in time. It’s very possible Nanami knew about his past to be better equipped to help him in his recovery. Or at the very least, it’s likely she knew he did not have a talent, and did not want him to get hurt if he found out the truth. 

Unfortunately for them, Komaeda does get access to the secret files by playing roulette at Komaeda-level difficulty. Besides the details about them being Ultimate Despair, Komaeda also finds out the true talents of the Imposter and Hinata, which he promptly rubs in Hinata’s face probably in an attempt to make himself feel better about being the very embodiment of what he hates. 

Hinata is shocked and in denial about it for a short while, because it came so suddenly, and from Komaeda, no less. But he could not run away from the truth forever. He should have expected it, being the only one who did not know his talent was just too suspicious. He should know better than anyone, how much he wanted a talent, how much importance he placed on talent. Forgetting was just a convenient excuse to make himself feel better. But that did not make it hurt any less. He was a fraud, a nobody, and this reality crushed Hinata’s fake confidence. The act he put up around the class crumbled. Komaeda constantly bringing up his lack of talent, mocking and insulting him did not help. But he had a murder to solve, and a genocidal Komaeda to deal with the next chapter. Hinata had no time to mope about and take it all in, he had to keep fighting for his survival.

Hinata had already lost hope when he found out about his lack of talent, but Komaeda starts tp be more aggressive in trying to expose the traitor’s identity. And once again Hinata starts to wonder if he were actually the traitor.

Komaeda gave them no time to rest and immediately told the remaining students about his plan to blow up the island. So they worked together to stop him, and found his gruesome dead body, and worked to find the murderer.

In the middle of the investigation, we once again see how pained Hinata felt when he confirms that he was in fact a talentless Reserve Course student.

“Why... why am I here with the other Ultimates?” 

Eventually, they find out Komaeda’s death was not just a simple suicide, and they found out Komaeda’s true plan was to expose the traitor and execute them (which they later found was the exact opposite of what he wanted). Because Hinata knew Komaeda’s true personality, he knew that Komaeda wouldn’t die in such a meaningless way, so Hinata suspected there had to be something more to his death. Hinata was forced to expose Nanami as the traitor, through Monomi’s diary that included that moment that only Nanami should know about... Nanami, who noticed he was feeling anxious and being suspected of being the traitor, who left her group to find him because she was worried for him, who convinced him not to take the risk and leave the Final Dead Room, who told him not to listen to Komaeda mocking him. 

Also, when Hinata saw that scene in the diary, he pretended not to acknowledge it and thought he shouldn’t bring it up to Nanami, because he wanted to avoid a potential problem once again, until he was forced to confront it in the trial. 

With both Komaeda and Nanami gone, Hinata and the others are left exhausted and empty. But the time was up, and they could finally leave...? Even if Hinata wanted to completely give up now, the doors to freedom were (supposedly) finally open and it would be a waste not to at least give it a look. 

A tired Hinata enters the mysterious Future Foundation building, and slowly pieces together the truth behind this killing game. In the final trial, we finally learn about Hinata’s backstory through Junko happily telling him that he is not merely a talentless Reserve Course student, but also a human experiment and his real self is no longer the same person standing in the class trial. The Future Foundation members are also shocked that Hinata and Kamukura were apparently the same person. Hinata’s first reaction is understandably denial, who would believe that they would go through something so messed up for the sake of hope and talent? Especially after Junko adds that Kamukura was the one who killed the student council members and kickstarted the tragedy.

But the seeds of doubt were already planted into Hinata. Junko easily uses Hinata’s fears to deter him from going along with the Forced Shutdown sequence. After all, by going through with it, he and the others would lose their memories of the virtual killing game, meaning he would go back to being Kamukura Izuru. For Hinata, this means that he would cease to exist. Again. 

Junko brings up the fact that the Future Foundation want them to do the Forced Shutdown for their own desires, wanting to stop her from taking over the world, but is it really worth the cost of sacrificing their own lives and memories? 

Hinata has a breakdown because how is he supposed to choose? Between sacrificing himself or saving the world, just because some people say so? He is afraid. He doesn’t want to disappear. He suddenly got put into this spot where the only choices are to die or destroy the world. Both Junko and the Future Foundation are only thinking of their own goals. The Future Foundation might give false reassurance that everything will be fine even if they go back to being Ultimate Despair, but will it really? They conveniently don’t bring up the fact that Hinata won’t even exist anymore in an attempt to convince them to go along with their plan to defeat Junko. As Junko mentioned, do these people even care about him and the others?

Hinata refuses to choose, because he cannot handle it anymore. The burden is too great, and Hinata would rather just give up. Once again, he is unable to face his issues head on and chooses to avoid them. 

Hinata imagines an ending where the class is happy and back on Jabberwock Island. But Nanami snaps him out of it and confronts him. Hinata tells him his worries, tells him that he wants to give up, and adds that if they go through with the Forced Shutdown, everyone would forget about her too. Nanami tells him that no matter what, the future she and everyone fought for would still remain, and that Hinata should believe in himself and stop being so indecisive. Nanami tells him that they are the only ones who can decide their own future, and if they can’t choose one of the two options, to create their own future. 

Hinata confronts his impression of Kamukura, or rather, his own negative feelings projected onto Kamukura’s avatar. His feelings of being talentless, being useless, being unable to change anything, being betrayed, his denial of being Kamukura Izuru. Hinata finally faces his own feelings head on and realises how uncool he is to act like that and keep moping about.

Thanks to Nanami’s encouragement, Hinata was able to overcome his feelings and awaken. Finally, Hinata has stopped running away and has decided to fight for a new future. He says that he is not Kamukura Izuru, but Hinata Hajime, and argues that they don’t have to stick to the two choices presented to them, that they can and will create their own future that they can be proud of. Hinata convinces the other survivors to do the same, and they go through with the Forced Shutdown sequence. Usami appears and defeats Junko, and the survivors wake up from the NWP.

3.5. World Destroyer

This technically happened before DR3, so I’ll put this here. With Kamukura’s talents, Hinata was able to create the AI of World Destroyer, who was given Kamukura’s personality to be as efficient and ruthless in his job as possible. And he was modelled after Hinata’s avatar because... well there are a lot of theories, but personally I think it’s because Kamukura’s hair physics would be a bigger pain to work with then Hinata’s short hair.

Okay that was a joke, but my interpretation the reason is that they wanted to pick someone who is distant from the other students, so that they wouldn’t get too attached or get emotionally hurt when WD shoots them and wakes them up. So they went with Hinata since the students won’t have any memories of him before the killing game (which seems to be where their minds are trapped within). 

It’s possible that Hinata might sometimes feel as if he were not truly a part of the class, as everyone except him shared some memories of their time in Hope’s Peak Academy or being Remnants of Despair (that they may or may not have regained). We already know he thinks that he is different from everyone else. Not to mention, he might have also felt responsible for causing them to die in the NWP since it was Kamukura who injected Junko’s AI into it, so he tried to wake them from their coma. 

Hinata (and Kamukura) had to shoulder the huge burden of saving these people, with the hopes of all the other survivors resting on him. Did he think, he was the only one who could do something like that? With all these talents, he could finally be of use to his friends? Despite people like Nanami constantly telling him that it’s okay not to have a talent, it’s only because he became Kamukura, that he obtained all this talent, that he was able to bring everyone back to life.

Having to deal with the pressure that you will be responsible for all these people’s lives, knowing that it’s your fault but not really that they ended up like this, having to deal with living the rest of your life with another person in your mind, knowing that you finally got what you always wanted but you caused so many people and yourself so much pain... That is something only Hinata Hajime would feel.

4. Kamukura, Hinata and the Future

(This section will contain a lot of rambling headcanons based on how they get along after the events of SDR2/DR3. Also me being confused by DR3′s writing.)

When Hinata wakes up from the simulation, it is heavily implied that Kamukura’s personality is still present within him, as he occasionally mentions being bored (like when the Future Foundation members come after them). Even though he cut his hair, and continues to mainly present himself as Hinata, he retains Kamukura’s talents and shares a body and mind with him.

There are a few confusing things about SDR2 and DR3, such as the fact Naegi and friends don’t know Kamukura and Hinata were the same person, even though Naegi would have likely needed to meet Kamukura to ‘capture’ him, and in the visions Kamukura retained his appearance when talking to Komaeda on the boat to the real Jabberwock Island. It would be kind of suspicious to see that Kamukura was not present in the simulation but instead a completely different person, yet the Future Foundation talk as if they did not know Kamukura even existed...? Why would a random Reserve Course student be in the simulation instead? You would think they would know the identities of who they were going to upload into a rehabilitation programme... or at least put two-and-two together and do some research into this Hinata Hajime person? Anyway I digressed.

I believe that Kamukura was able to also get what he wanted. While he might also have known about the Forced Shutdown sequence, I feel like he might still see it as a non-answer (it may be the Future Foundation’s hope, but he and the other Remnants would go back to being despair anyway). But I don’t think he would have expected Hinata to retain his personality (and possibly memories of the killing game) as well. (Or is it just Kamukura acting as Hinata? We will never know why it seems like the SDR2 cast reverted to their in-game personalities despite the Forced Shutdown being unable to retain those memories...) Either way, I think Kamukura would not have predicted such a thing, because it... defies logic. Seriously how did they even fuse? Why does Hinata have heterochromia?? Did the program malfunction and a miracle happen?? I guess so.

Hinata can still feel emotions, but probably a lot less than he would before, because his brain has been messed with to suppress emotions. But for Kamukura, who had felt nothing his entire life, to be able to feel what it is like to ‘feel’, even just a little, is exactly the kind of stimulus he had been looking for. 

And for Hinata, to go from being a talentless nobody, to becoming possibly the only survivor of the Reserve Course, to be suddenly equipped with all these skills and talents... I imagine it must have overloaded him, to suddenly wake up and feel so foreign in your own body. To suddenly realise there is someone else besides him, in his own brain, and that someone be an emotionless, apathetic, harsh, judgemental person... but still a person.

As I mentioned before, I think Hinata felt responsible for putting the class through the killing game. Even if it wasn’t technically him, because it was him that became Kamukura, he caused them to suffer to such an extent... But at the same time, because it was him, because it was Kamukura, he was able to use his foreign talents for something he wanted to do - to save his friends. For once, his identity as the Ultimate Hope was not being taken advantage of by someone else, but he was able to use it for his own wishes. For once, Hinata was able to regain control of his, of Kamukura’s, talents. Because of Kamukura, Hinata was able to live, face his regrets and save his friends.

For Kamukura, I think that he has finally found a meaning to his life. To be able to feel Hinata’s conviction in wanting to rescue his comatose friends. To want to use his talents that he previously would find boring. To want to live and keep existing. Hinata has shown him that things that he can’t predict do exist. Because of Hinata, Kamukura was able to find his purpose. 

Hinata, who had always doubted himself, his identity, had to suddenly wake up as two people in the same body. He had to come to terms with the fact that he was different from everyone else, that he had gone through some things people would never be able to understand. He had to learn how accept this was how he would be for the rest of his life, to accept Kamukura as a part of himself. And similarly, Kamukura would also have to accept Hinata as a part of him, rather than just his past that did not matter, Hinata exists and is here right now. 

Also, since Kamukura technically only existed for a few years, despite having so much knowledge, he is still lacking in experience. So Hinata would still have things to show and teach him. I also think that Kamukura has low energy due to his lack of motivation, which was why he barely moves about, only sees the value in ‘efficient’ actions, prefers to stand back and observe others, and that is why Hinata is the one that takes the lead in their body after SDR2. 

(Stealthy edit but I totally missed this part in the OVA, but Hinata confirms they are both him, meaning they’ve both come to terms with each other and has accepted the other as a part of themselves. :D)

Hinata needs Kamukura, and Kamukura needs Hinata. Without one of them, the other would not exist, and they make up for what the other lacks. 

Bonus: Cute Stuff

To end this off, here are some miscellaneous cute facts about these two!

Kamukura talks in a more polite way than Hinata

They have two colours of underwear, blue and red/pink with white sakura patterns

Kodaka made a tweet that suggested Hinata Hajime’s name could be read similarly to Kamukura [Hi (ka) -nata (muku) Hajime (kura)]

Kamukura’s hair follows a similar pattern to Hinata’s hair (ahoge, the one pointy middle strand)

Hinata’s stop/cancel sign in his eyes transforms to a target sign when he becomes Kamukura (two prongs) and awakened Hinata (three prongs!!)

Hinata’s official watch has black and red clock hands... :]

Anyway, thanks for reading if you somehow made it this far! This ended up being.... extremely long and rambly... and I might have repeated my points a few times... but I hope you still enjoyed it! :’D

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Wilford Warfstache - A Personification of Death

Inspired by my obsession with the Hades game, I found myself watching William’s story in the WKM series in a different light. An idea crossed my mind - what if he was somehow connected to Thanatos, the Greek personification of death? This is my attempt to come up with a tale about it, complete with some cheesiness that would work in the context of a myth.

TW  war (story discussion about William’s time in the war), death (discussed frequently), alcohol (mentioned in passing, but alludes briefly to using it to ‘help’)

Word Count: 4,242 (hence the much needed read-more. Enjoy the wall of text!)

-

In modern times, there are often tales of gods who parent children and abandon them to fend for themselves without the support of influential or important figures to help provide guidance for the young demi-god who is thrust into unfamiliar territory.

This isn’t a tale quite like that, for the ‘father’ never realised until it was too late to reach out. Otherwise, Thanatos would have been there all the way. Who can naturally embrace death when it becomes so normal in their life? But worse, how can one expect to approach a mother when she had never met him? Now, don’t take that the wrong way. Thanatos would never consider doing something immoral with any human. Thantao’s ‘parenthood’ is wholly indirect.

-

An ill man had died in his sleep, and Thanatos knew he was the one to collect the soul and bring it safely to the Underworld. The soul rose in the form of a pale blue wisp and drifted toward the figure cloaked in black in the search for comfort. At that, the door was opened by a young lady in the first trimester of pregnancy, the man’s sister. Though she could not see them, she locked eyes with Thanatos before he disappeared into smoke. However, a single black feather had come loose and fluttered to rest beside the man’s head, allowing it to become visible to the mortal eye. The lady, taking this as a sign that her brother was still with them even in death, kept the feather.

It was woven into a necklace she wore every day. It brought a sense of peace she didn’t understand, but could explain as her brother keeping her company like he promised. But it had a second effect. The magic imbued within the feather began affecting the baby she was carrying, giving him a divine connection that would otherwise never have existed.

When William J. Barnum was born, any onlooker would assume his only connection to death was simply through him being named after his deceased uncle. But to anyone who could sense the extraordinary, they would gather the clues and notice a pattern.

As a child, William was drawn to death. He would find abandoned, injured animals in gardens and parks and keep them company until they passed. He held a quiet curiosity about the topic, often asking about it when it appeared in childhood storybooks, questioning why adults were so keen to avoid talking about it. For him, it was something he found comfort in. When others were grieving, William was able to reassure them that no matter what, their loved one was okay. Like Thanatos, the one who gave him this mysterious connection to death, William’s energy was gentle like light ripples in the calm lake. He helped those that were dying accept their fate and face it feeling at ease, and provided a foundation for those left behind to feel comfort despite their grief. Death was no monster, he believed. It would never actively take lives for fun. Perhaps that was what drew him to Celine and Damien when they were children. Their family connection to witchcraft and communication with the dead (even if it was something neither twin touched on) was something that gave William a sense of familiarity, if one were to look beyond the surface. 

As a teenager, this interest in death stayed. He had asked around and had managed to secure an apprenticeship with a local undertaker when he finished school. He was a natural. His calm, methodical approach was grounding when those around him were hurting. His voice was always low and polite, and he even offered hugs to those who needed reassurance. The only thing that stopped him was the war. He hadn’t fully qualified, but he knew he needed to help his country and protect those he cared about. Though he was barely an adult, William enlisted and promised his friends that he would be the only one of the four to have direct involvement with the war.

When there, he was faced with more death than he had ever seen, and how it made his stomach turn. It was loud. Invasive. Impersonal. It drove him to work harder, do everything he could to keep the soldiers he fought with safe. He learned tactics, organised routines, found ways to help keep morale boosted, argued with superiors over their poor opinions in seeing troops as ‘disposable’. It was no surprise that he became one of the youngest Colonels in modern history. He showed wisdom beyond his ages, and a keen sense of observation. He could bring a sense of calm when his men were stressed with the constant reminders of death and pain, and some would later go on to write in diaries and memoirs how William was able to help badly injured soldiers embrace death and pass in a more peaceful state of mind than they might have otherwise. But with others, he would will them on, encourage them to fight and win, and they would.

One winter’s day, when there was an ‘up and over’ order given, William and his troops were keeping the enemies at bay and refusing to lose ground. Something caught his attention, or rather, someone. A man dressed in shining armour and wearing a helmet with a plume of red feathers raised a sword high into the air, which coincided with a sudden rise in violence and bloodthirsty behaviour from the soldiers. Only William seemed to be immune to this, instead briefly distracted by the unusual sight. The man in armour turned his head, and the pair locked eyes. Even with the distance between them, William could see the look of realisation on the stranger’s face before he disappeared into thin air.

In the weeks that followed, rumours began circulating of seeing a man walking along the barren wasteland between the warring trenches late at night. Those that claimed to see him described him as wearing a long black cloak that matched the large wings sprouting from his back. The man appeared to be searching for something, but didn’t seem to notice any onlookers. If the rumour was passed to others, they would discover a trail of red poppies in the area the cloaked figure was spotted, and sometimes a black feather would be found. Troops believed it was the Grim Reaper himself coming to inspect the damage when the dust settled, but William felt it was something more. Was he connected to the armoured soldier William saw? Not only that, the black feathers resembled the one that was woven into William’s necklace (but felt colder, somehow). Unfortunately, he never caught a glimpse of the supposed Grim Reaper.

---

The Colonel earned his reputation of becoming rather eccentric, and it was put under the simple explanation of “war”. But it was more than that. It was being surrounded by a type of death that was foreign to him. He was the unknowing son of the being associated with peaceful death. Despite his best efforts to keep some sort of calmness, the sheer chaos of it all was too much for him. The sudden, violent losses were heavy and weighed down on his heart. It was suffocating. He should have been able to do more. He should have been able to help them. He managed to get his men home with no one dying for the final six months of the war, but it wasn’t enough.

He tried to resume his apprenticeship after the war, but both he and the undertaker agreed he needed a break from death and to learn to appreciate life again. It was both a good and a bad solution. Good in that it helped him recover from whatever injuries - physical and emotional - he endured in his years away.

Bad in that it gave him too much time to think when he wasn’t in the barracks.

He grew up surrounded by death. Excluding the war, he had witnessed far more death than someone his age should have, when his fairly quiet and untroubled upbringing was taken into account. In a way, it almost followed him, or did he follow it? Was he cursed? Death brought about loss, and he had experienced a lot of that in his fairly short life.

All this only encouraged William to embrace the here and now. Life was short, why waste a moment of it? Life needed some madness, otherwise you would regret it when you found yourself lying on your deathbed. Beyond his childhood friends, he kept a distance from everyone else. If he was cursed with death because of the war, he would run the risk of someone dying because they got to know him.

Alcohol helped. For little periods of time, he was able to not think about whatever was plaguing him and enjoy life like he used to. But he had to be careful. William didn’t need to look far to see what a mess a man could become if he relied on alcohol as his only source of joy. No, that was eventually found in Celine… And we know how the story goes.

---

Mark died by William’s hand in a round of Russian Roulette, but the Colonel couldn’t find it in himself to care. The two who were once as close as brothers barely acknowledged the other without an argument breaking out. One of them would have died that night. There was regret in what was done, but William was never one to mourn openly like Damien did. Perhaps that was why they argued in the theatre. It had been years since they both knew someone who had died. Had Damien forgotten that William didn’t cry or openly mourn? Had William neglected to consider that a sudden death would shake the gentle mayor to his core? Words were snapped, and William made the decision to avoid Damien until it was all over.

As the day dragged on, William decided to join in on the ‘game’ that seemed to play out before him. Pulling the Mayor’s friend outside to give an indirect confession, firing his gun indoors to deliberately wind up the detective… Trusting Celine.

When Celine arrived, he didn’t know it would be the start of a chain reaction that resulted in him losing everything. Celine and Damien disappeared. No body, no sign of life. That was the first time since the war that he felt true heartbreak. He had promised to protect them both, and he failed. He didn’t care that the detective was shot, but the poor district attorney should never have been wrapped up in the mess. They never deserved such a horrid death.

It was why William was by their side all night. He spoke gently to them, hoping that they would be alright until he felt the pulse in their wrist die out and their hand freeze. They were the only truly innocent soul in all of this, even he knew that. But what could he do about it now? Everyone that stayed was dead, except for him. Once again, he was surrounded by death, and yet escaped. No matter what he did, the cold hand of the Grim Reaper never reached for him… Unless it was because he was hidden, cloaked under the protection of the black feather necklace. It held a feather found upon death. It might be hiding him from the death he might deserve. He unclipped it and carefully placed it around the attorney’s broken neck. Maybe it would give them guidance to a peaceful afterlife.

Imagine his horror when instead, they rose to their feet as morning broke.

This was no homo necrosis, nor the more intelligent variant homo sapien zombifius. They were alive, right before his eyes! They struggled to rise to their feet and looked around, confused as though they were merely hungover. Their head turned effortlessly to take in the surroundings. That neck was definitely injured, William had checked it! But as he watched, he found the attorney being someone he knew and a complete stranger at the same time, like their face didn’t entirely belong to them. He didn’t dwell on it. In panic, fear, desperation, William clung to the extreme idea that maybe, just maybe, Damien and Celine were still alive. He’d pretend it was a joke, he’d slap them on the back and congratulate them for giving him quite a fright and getting even after all the pranks he himself pulled over the years. Just let them be alive and okay!

No matter how hard he searched, no matter how loud he shouted, neither twin appeared, Never would they come out of hiding. But it was okay! William was okay! Let bygones be bygones. They could all still be friends. He’d forget about this elaborate death prank. 

...

It turned out that it wasn’t the only thing he forgot, but I’m sure you know about that already. This isn’t a story documenting the gradual descent to madness: the alias hopping, the loss of original identity; but rather one about death.

---

Perhaps now is a good time to reveal an important piece of information - death is represented by many beings, not just Thanatos. Many cultures depict an individual who bears the important task of guiding the living to an afterlife. These are all true, but there are more. In recent times, as the population globally has grown, so too has the demand. In America, where William grew up, there is what can be considered a ‘family’ of death. With guidance from Santa Muerte, younger figures from all walks of life with a common link with various aspects of death were found as humans and nurtured to allow their abilities to guide flourish in the Americas. It was only as they noticed a bottleneck of death in a city suburb in North America did they discover that they had a brother whose presence was so gentle, he slipped through the cracks. All it took was the discovery of a discarded necklace outside a derelict manor for Santa Muerte to recognise where the lost child of the family went, and which personification of death gave them their powers.

Thanatos was there within the hour. The moment the black feather necklace was placed in his hand, he could feel the comforting energy that was like his, but was so distinctly not. 

“His name was William,” Thanatos murmured, closing his eyes to let the energy tell him the story of the human who became a kin of death. “He was the personification of the acceptance of death. If war had not broken out earlier in the century, he would have lived a humble life as an undertaker who would bring comfort and calm to those dying.”

“ ‘Was’?” one of the younger deaths repeated in a whisper. Thanatos nodded.

“He died, in a way. Without guidance, the war made him think it was a curse that death followed him.” Some of the younger beings nodded in sympathy. They knew how it felt when they were alone. “Something happened and… he cracked. I need to go to him.”

The plan was simple. Thanatos would be accompanied by several younger entities, but only he would enter. The rest would reclaim the souls that were trapped inside. The facade of the building was a disco, but it could be a trap. If there was a bottleneck where souls of the deceased were unable to pass, it could only mean bad news. William could have turned into an angry, vengeful representation of death, using the souls to fuel his power and cause unknown chaos. For the safety of the humans living in the area, William needed to be dealt with, and his ‘father in death’ was the only one who might be able to calm him down. Thanatos took a slow breath to brace himself, let his wings briefly disappear, and entered the disco.

---

A hand shielded his eyes to allow them time to adjust to the brightness. Slowly, Thanatos lowered it as he examined his surroundings. There was no mania, no anger. It was precisely as it seemed to be - a disco. The mood was jovial as the crowds danced. They were completely lost in the music, and Thanatos had to wonder how long some of them had danced for. As he made his way through the crowd, he noticed a clock over the bar. It worked, but the minute hand never moved when the seconds hand completed its cycle. Were they caught in a solitary moment in time? It would explain how the dancers never stopped for a breather. The song reached the big finale and finished with a spectacle. Thanatos lifted a hand and waved it in the direction of the band. To his relief, the members exchanged looks and decided that yes, a break was needed. They put their instruments down and hopped off the stage. As they did, the dancers began to follow. Thanatos stepped back to try and find the one person who didn’t react to the mob mentality of walking out. Sure enough, he spotted William. In the far corner, he had been finishing a chat with a still-living man in a black leather jacket. Even from here, Thanatos could sense the death clinging on him. Unlike William, the other’s presence of death was latched on the man. He was a soul that was cursed with witnessing the deaths of loved ones over and over. What being decided to leave such a foul mark on that man or his family? It was not something Thanatos could help with, but maybe one of the younger beings might be able to help that poor, tormented soul.

The host of the party turned, blinking in confusion to see someone still there. He said something to the other man, who nodded and made his way out.

"Thought ya woulda gone outside with everyone else," he gestured to the entrance, hand holding a martini glass that wasn't there seconds earlier. Thanatos shook his head.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you. I found -"

"Y'know, I don't think I've seen ya before. New ta th' disco, eh? I'll never miss a chance ta talk ta someone new. Wilford Motherloving Warfstache, a pleasure ta meetcha!" A free hand was boldly offered to Thanatos. Confused, he shook it.

"Wait… Wilford? But I thought your name was -" Thanatos was interrupted again, this time by Wilford tutting and pressing a finger against the other's lips.

"Ya got talkin' ta that detective, yeah? He knows me by a lotta names. But I like Wilford the best." He took a sip from his glass, an act that was interrupted by Thanatos dangling the necklace in the air. "Where'd ya get that?"

"I found it on my way in. Does it belong to you?" Wilford nodded, only to shake his head. Then, after a moment, his face scrunched up in confusion.

"I… I wanna say I've never seen it, but I feel like I’ve been reunited with somethin' precious…" Slowly, Wilford reached out to take the necklace into his own hand. Thanatos noticed how recognition lit up Wilford's face the moment he touched it. 

"This is mine. Had it as long as I could remember. I think it was passed down ta me. Can't say fer sure, memories have been a bit funny fer me." His thumb gently brushed against the feather as his eyes lifted to the stranger. Something clicked, and he froze for several long seconds.

"This… this feather is yers, ain't it? Who are ya? What's going on?"

"I am Thanatos, one of the personifications of Death." A hand was placed on his chest to give a half-bow to Wilford. "And I believe you are one as well."

A silence fell on the pair. Wilford stared blankly at his drink, swirling it around for several seconds.

"Someone spiked my drink," he eventually grumbled, putting the glass on the stage. "I'm hearin' things. Death isn't real."

"It's as real as the necklace you hold."

"Ya don't understand. Of course ya don't. People don't stay dead. They get knocked out fer a while an' then they wake again." He raised the necklace to eye level, gears slowly turning in his foggy mind. "I've seen people die an' get right back up after a few hours. I've spoken ta people who oughta be dead. I've shot people, an' they come back ta find me, like Abe!" All the while, Thanatos was silent. It might have sounded like the ramblings of a madman to deny such a certainty exists, but every word was grounded with experience, with personal fact. "I'm sure yer tryin' ta be nice but… I don't believe in death. Not anymore."

"Then how did you know the feather was mine?"

"I can see yer wings."

"My wings are currently invisible to all but those who are Death."

"Bullshit."

"I've never been here before, so why did no one else stop to ask me about my wings?"

"Ya really think that's gonna bother anyone?"

"I was caught in the middle of a crowd packed together, and not one complained about wings being in the way." Thanatos rolled his shoulders, allowing the black wings spread to their full span before folding in neatly. "Even like this, they would be in the way of a crowd."

"But -"

"Wilford." Thanatos cut through whatever ramble Wilford attempted to start. "How long have you kept these people here for?" Wilford's eyes widened, before his head lowered in guilt.

"They were sufferin' with their problems an’ their struggles. I brought 'em in here so they could be happy. None of 'em deserved this." Wilford gestured around them. "It ain't much, but here, they can be happy, they can have fun. Nothin' hurts here. What's wrong with that?" Thanatos sighed at the innocent question, muttering something about 'another Dionysus' under his breath.

"You might not believe in death… but they do. We aren't supposed to play with lives like they are toys. We help guide them to their afterlife."

"Whoa whoa, time out fer a sec!" Wilford make a 'T' with his hands. "What's all this 'we' talk? I'm just a guy who runs a disco."

"Like I said, you're a personification of Death, just like I am. You've lost your way."

"I think I'd remember bein' some sorta skeletal guy with a scythe, thanks very much." A pause. "Do I have a scythe? That'd be cool ta swing an'-"

"You don't have a scythe. Your role is to help others find death -"

"Which I don't believe in."

"- to help them accept it. That's what you used to do. Do you remember wanting to be an undertaker?" The question hung in the air for several seconds, allowing Thanatos to realise that Wilford wasn't kidding when he said his memory was poor. "You're a good man, Wilford. Have you helped someone who might have been, say, confused lately?"

Wilford turned his head to the entrance. "Abe." One word, one name.

"And what was wrong?"

"He… he was lost in a moment. Hunting me for so long for something I did… He thinks he knows everything, but it fell apart the moment I asked questions that went just below the surface." Lost in thought, his accent sharpened to something more dignified. "No one can survive a bullet to the chest. But he did. But the others -" With wide eyes, Wilford looked back at Thanatos. "They're dead. All of them. I only wanted to help them be happy and have fun. That's not wrong, is it? Am I in trouble?"

"You're not in trouble. You didn't know. But now, they can be brought to the afterlife that suits their upbringing and beliefs - Wilford!" Thanatos hurried after Wilford, who had bolted to the entrance without warning.

-

"Abe!!" 

The cry echoed in the empty car lot. Wilford was alone. He slumped on the top step, pulling his knees to his chest like a child. Not even the cold hand of Thanatos stirred him.

"Abe… Was that the man you spoke to?" Thanatos asked. Wilford nodded into his knees. "I don't know where he is now, but he is still alive. Close your eyes and hold the necklace tight. Can you sense him?" There was a slight shuffle as Wilford followed the instructions. A noise that could have been a content sigh or a relieved sob escaped.

"He's okay…"

"He needs time to heal. I know your paths will cross again one day, but you can't stay here waiting for him. Let's bring you somewhere where you can get a warm drink and a change of clothes. What do you say?"

Wiford has always been one to go with the flow of whatever might be happening at the time. This wouldn't be any different. 

"So how does this work? Me bein' some sorta Death, but not believin' in death, an' even killin' some folks?" Thanatos gave a soft smile as he sat beside Wilford.

"Have you considered that you might be the side of death that gives the recently deceased extra time to process their own death before they are collected?"

"But can Death kill people?"

"No, no they shouldn't," Thanatos chuckled. “But we can work on that problem in time.”

A silence fell as the pair sat on the steps. There was a long road ahead of them. Thanatos knew that Wilford would never be ‘okay’, but Wilford wouldn’t be alone with this. Not anymore.

[cxmetery-gates]

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER FIVE: COFFEE AND TINDER

SUMMARY: Lynn and Gabriel have a heart-to-heart talk about her last lover, with Gabe offering barely-legal suggestions. WORD COUNT: 2.45k NOTES: Gabe is probably my favorite character WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston, mentions of past relationships, break-up talk, h*tler reference?? never thought i’d write that

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

THE SOUND OF A BELL alerts the classroom that the period is over. Everyone had been already packed and ready to go minutes before Mr. Hiddleston even began wrapping up his lesson. Even when I suffered through chemistry or dragged my deflated soul through finance, I never thought of putting my notes and pens away so soon. I know more than one student saw the icy glare I sent across the room but, most importantly and unfortunately, I also know nearly all of them didn't catch the slight disappointment in Mr. Hiddleston's tone.

I truly despise most people.

From the moment class started, it's been so unmistakably clear how much he loves what he teaches, that he enjoys what he spent thousands of dollars on just to show people how great literature is. I understand that all too well— save the going into debt part. Teachers are often times so mundane with their knowledge, not realizing how the way they present the information affects our understanding and interest in such. This is why high school teachers are stereotyped as people who just want a paid summer vacation. However, Mr. Hiddleston really put effort into his theatrics, like his lecture was a play. People with a teaching degree should teach in this way— why else go penniless willingly? The overall excitement was entertaining. And for that, I have to give the man some credit.

"Alright, guys. We'll be diving into the second part of this lecture tomorrow. Have a good one, you are dismissed." I don't think Mr. Hiddleston needed to announce the last blip of his closing statement. As I said, people are so rude.

Ellie begins to shove her notepad and other items into her bag after our teacher finishes speaking, reminding me of my kind company. I, on the other hand, am scrambling to take the last bit of notes, trying to relay any possible concepts mentioned on to paper. While there might not have been much depth in today's class, jotting down every last tidbit of information could be life or death. Or perhaps I'm just anal-retentive when it comes to note-taking. By the time I finish the note, Ellie is already standing.

"Girl, hurry up. We gotta go!" She drags out the last vowel of the last word humorously.

I wave my hand at her, flipping pages and dodging paper cuts. "Go on without me. I'll be fine," I say, remembering that Ellie's homeroom is on the first floor and the farthest down the hall.

Rolling her big brown eyes, she sighs, walking backward. "I'll miss you poppet. I love you." Her fake British accent is terrible, but I don't bother enlightening her. Perhaps the slight discoloration in her cheeks and how fast she dashed out of the room was due to finding Mr. Hiddleston in ear-shot of her terrible accent. I bite my lip, forcing myself to look away out of sheer second-hand embarrassment.

Once all my belongings are together, I turn to leave.

"That truly was an awful mockery," Mr. Hiddleston says in my direction from the whiteboard. His long toned arms wipe the marker away as I begin to walk past him.

I chuckle. "I'll let her know you said that."

Mr. Hiddleston fakes a groan, placing the eraser on the marker tray then turning to face me with those oh-so-charming eyes. There's no other way to describe them other than mesmerizing. "Oh, don't tell her I said it. I like being liked."

"Being 'liked' is the least of your worries with these girls," I mumble, mostly to humor myself. However, I must have been louder than anticipated. The innuendo is heard and doesn't fly over his head.

A titter of a laugh is heard from the man, and I now regret the words I mumbled. "So I have been told," he replies, making a slightly uncomfortable face. I can't blame him; anyone would feel incredibly awkward if teaching a class full of people who would sell both kidneys just to see them without a shirt.

Not in my dreams would I have imagined having a conversation with Mr. Hiddleston about how everyone wants to nail him. While such a phrase hasn't been explicitly noted, I have a feeling both our minds are in the same gutter. And with that recognition, an awkward heat embraces me. I press my lips together tightly and offer a shrug. "I think the proper thing for me to say is good luck."

Seeming to take my word, Mr. Hiddleston passes me a smile. I can't read what the meaning is, but I'll take it nonetheless with a cough to clear my throat. "Ah, well, as much as I love juicy gossip and scandals, I've got a stuck up prune for homeroom, so I definitely need to get going." I send him a wave, making my exit as awkward as possible.

"Warntz?" He asks.

My nose wrinkles at the name. It eve sounds terrible, almost as terrifying as Trunchbull or Umbridge. "You betcha."

"Good luck, Lynn. You've got two minutes."

I want to give another sassy remark, but the teasing look I find when I look over my shoulder sends my body into another blush. Muttering something close to 'whatever,' I decide that leaving is for the best, even if that means awaiting an angry, shriveled up raisin.

══════════════════

Exiting the high school front doors a few hours before the final bell is like the biggest sigh of relief and 'sucks to be you' to everyone else. An arm wraps around my shoulder, one I embrace kindly.

"So, we've got an hour on our hands," Gabriel reminds me, hinting we'll have to come back to grab Ellie and River. As he speaks, I toss my head back on his toned bicep. I swear he works out too much for an unpopular loser. "What would you like to do?"

I groan, dragging my chin down to my chest. "Why do I have to decide? You know I hate making decisions."

"We're taking second lunch here, Lynn. It isn't life or death, you weirdo," Gabe chortles.

"Can we just go get a coffee? I feel like I'm about to pass out." For effect, I pretend to faint, nearly going complete limp before his arms can hoist me back up.

Rolling his dark eyes, my partner in crime pulls a set of keys from his pocket, swinging the lanyard around his fingers while we head towards a tattered white truck being held together by zip ties, duct tape, and love. "You and Elle with your coffee addiction."

"Could be meth," I retort.

Snorting, Gabe slips a key into the slit on the driver's side. I stand on the opposite, sending a humored smile. "Yeah, as if that's any worse."

We make it to the local coffee shop in no time. Luckily for us, the lunch rush hour in this town ends just as we hit the road if we avoid the main highways that is. Gabe's truck and the coffee shop have a similar aesthetic: crowded, old, falling apart with an overwhelming sense of home and personality. I can't count how many times I've broken down and received well off advice from him in both locations. It feels safe here and being around him. Gabe's like the much older brother (by a month) that I never had. We're both complete, utter assholes to each other about 60% of the time, enforcing the sibling-like bond we have.

"Thank you," I say sweetly to the barista as he places my cold brew in front of me and Gabe's hot chocolate in front of him. Mimicking my gratitude, Gabe gives his thanks as the employee shuffled away, awkwardly patting at his frizzy hair.

We both take a sip and visibly relax. "So, the first day of our last year of high school." Gabe is also the mom friend. "Tell me, dear, how were all your classes?"

"Oh, dearest mother, I feel so content with my choices," I reply with a vintage accent, acting as though my voiced popped in from the 1920s. "How ever will I pick a favorite?"

Wiggling his brows, Gabe replies, "I hear someone landed themselves in the hottest teacher's class."

Prompting to return to my normal voice, I roll my eyes, a huff expelling from my diaphragm. "He's definitely a piece of eye candy, I'll tell you that."

"Took four years to figure that one out? I didn't realize unobservant you are." Taking a pause, Gabe brings to smirk widely. "Maybe that's why you haven't asked River out yet."

My eyes grow wide, my skin goes red. Looking at anywhere other than Gabe's eyes and smirking lips is a must. "I don't know—"

"Lynn, everyone knows."

"Sure, but he doesn't." I pause. "Wait, does he?"

"Dude, no, of course, he doesn't. He still thinks you're heartbroken over Trinity."

Ah, yes, Trinity. Who knew a happy year and two months could be wholly demolished beyond reconciliation in a single weekend? Certain not I, as I have spent the past three months moving on and over the ordeal. An annoyed grunt leads my cheek to rest in my fist. "He thinks I'm not over it?"

Gabe leans forwards. "None of us do, Lynn."

I stay silent.

"What happened... you didn't deserve that. Hell, Hitler wouldn't have deserved that. Probably."

"Weeeeell—"

"Point is, I know you're still trying to find a way to heal. You've done a damn good job, duh. But River thinks you're still in love with her."

"Ugh. I'd rather eat hairy horse shit than see her ever again."

Gabriel nods, "I was hoping that would be the case."

Knocking my knuckles on the wooden table, I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Man, I'm tired."

"You know we're all here for you, right?" Gabe asks, leaning in just a few inches. I want to roll my eyes, tell him that he worries too much, but I can't. I can't tell him, not because I want him to shut up or to change the topic, but because he knows me. To Gabe, I'm an open book.

I run out of words to say relating to the topic. The breakup is old news, everything following the incident becoming irrelevant memories and irreplaceable time. I'm kidding myself when I say I've moved on entirely because Gabriel is right: I haven't. Sometimes my thoughts get stuck on what I could have done better or what I should have done to convince her to stay. Despite these annoying blips, I know deep down that it was inevitable, that her consistent cheating and the emotional manipulation would only surface for everyone to see in due time. If they hadn't— which I tried to keep from happening— I have a gut-wrenching feeling I'd still be in the situation. I had a feeling Trinity and me wouldn't last, but it wasn't until after things ended did I realize how well she had me wrapped around her finger. It's taken months to find my way out of her web, but I now face the scary journey of recovery. Thankfully, the process has not been as hard as I anticipated. After all, living two cities away certainly helps.

"Yeah, I know. I'm still going through the motions. I just want it to speed up, you know?"

Smirking and pulling his hand back, Gabriel replies, "Maybe a Tinder will help?"

My nose wrinkles at the mere consideration. Hooking up, dating apps, meeting strangers behind a phone— not really my thing. "Nah, I'll pass on that offer, thanks."

"Suit yourself."

"Hmm, maybe I'll look into a sugar daddy site. Money from older men might make me feel a bit better."

Gabriel takes a sip of his hot chocolate, grinning. "Well, you have an interesting way with teachers. If you're struggling in a particular class, maybe that little fantasy of yours will come true."

"Oh yes, I can't wait to hop on Mr. Riley's seventy-year-old dick."

"Mhmm, yummy."

At this, I bark into a laughing-while-painfully-cringing fit. Never being a fan of the phrase "yummy" and having it tied to a man that's so old he's basically decaying, I find every part of this new conversation revoltingly hilarious. I guess my sudden outburst of laughter caught Gabe off guard, staring at me with a shocked grin and fixing the infamous beanie he wears. I couldn't count how many times I've seen him without; you can't count to zero.

"It really wasn't that funny," he says with a small hiccup of laughter in his voice.

I settle myself now that I feel the eyes of everyone in the coffee shop staring. "You're right, but something about it made me crack." I flip my phone over to check the time. "Should we be getting back? They've got twenty minutes left."

Gabe nods and lets out a content sigh. "Yeah, I guess so."

We decide to chug the rest of our beverages quickly— now room temperature and not as satisfying— before heading back out into the world. Away in the parking lot, the truck seems to beckon us to its forty-year-old, duct-tape-bound seats. As Gabe unlocks the truck doors, I let out a content sign and stare up at the sky. Above, the sun beams down on us and, like an idiot, I managed to look directly into it. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust but by that point, a dark cloud rolled over the blinding, distant star.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

TAGLIST:

@khadineberry​

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[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Snow Lilies

Summary: Belle is spring cleaning the Dark Castle, and she and Rumpel ponder the meaning of home. 

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: song, memory, spring, and my contribution to @fluffapalooza 2020. 

Rated: G

-

Snow Lilies

Rumpelstiltskin was about to announce his presence in the main hall in his usual flamboyant style, demanding tea and cakes and laundry done immediately, but something stopped him in the doorway. 

He would never admit, of course, that the thing that had stopped him was Belle, but it was. 

She was sitting on one of the windowsills, rubbing away vigorously at the glass until all the smears of dust were gone and the surface gleamed. He’d never known her so enthusiastic about her chores before; she’d even tied her hair back with a handkerchief to keep it out of her face as she worked. 

Given her normally dreamy nature, preferring to sit with a book rather than put more effort into the housework than necessary, Rumpel was surprised by this newfound energy, and he continued to watch her for a while as she scrubbed at the panes, completely oblivious to his presence and singing a soft, lilting little song. Every so often she would forget the words and hum instead, but it was nonetheless a pretty tune. 

Presently she finished up the window and slipped off the sill, going to the next one and startling on seeing Rumpel in the doorway.

“You gave me a fright, Rumpel! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that? What’s got into you?”

“I could ask the same of you, singing as you work so diligently. Are you coming down with a fever?”

Belle just rolled her eyes and pulled herself up onto the next windowsill. It was clear to Rumpelstiltskin that she wasn’t going to pay him any attention whatsoever, and despite his appearance in the main hall of an afternoon usually signalling to her that it was time for her to stop whatever she was doing and take a well-earned tea break with him, if he wanted any tea, he was going to have to get it himself.

All the same, he was very intrigued by her newfound obsession with making the windows shine, so instead of summoning tea and biscuits as he took a few steps into the room, he watched her for a few minutes. He was about to make some quip about her putting the same amount of elbow grease into conditioning his leather coats as she did into polishing the windows, but something made him stop.

There was a definite sense of purpose in Belle’s movements, and her vigorous action seemed completely at odds with the whimsical tune that she was singing again. Rumpelstiltskin didn’t think that he had ever heard Belle sing before, let alone sing that song.

He drew up alongside her, gazing out of the window. He could see his own reflection in it alongside hers, and he knew that she could see him too and was ignoring him. Well, not ignoring him per se, but simply not giving him any mind.

“Did the windows do something to you?” he asked eventually. “I was wondering why you were attacking them with such verve.”

Belle shrugged. “The snow lilies have bloomed.”

Rumpelstiltskin just looked at her incredulously. If she thought that was going to be a satisfactory enough explanation for him, then she would be disappointed.

“I beg your pardon?”

“The snow lilies.” Belle pointed out of the window to where the first shoots of long white flowers could be seen poking out of what remained of the snow on the ground. “They’ve bloomed.”

“Yes, I can see that. What I don’t see is what the snow lilies have to do with your sudden fascination for cleaning the windows.”

“It’s not just the windows,” Belle said. “It’s everything. Snow lilies blooming means that it’s time to spring clean and let new air and life in. Back at home in the Marchlands, the snow lilies blooming meant that the servants would be going through the castle like a whirlwind, cleaning everything that stood still too long. Including me. So, since they’ve bloomed now, I thought that I would continue the tradition and spring clean here as well. Goodness only knows how much the place needs it.”

Rumpelstiltskin opened his mouth to make some kind of protest, but he thought better of it. After all, he’d admitted himself many times when Belle questioned him as to the exact reason for her being here, that the place was filthy. He could hardly be offended when she agreed with him.

“Oh,” he said eventually instead. “Oh. Well. It’s time for tea.”

“I know, I know. Just let me finish this window and I’ll go and get it. Considering the odd hours that you keep, you’re very particular when it comes to time for tea and cakes.”

Rumpel waved a hand and the tea things appeared on the table. “No, no, it’s all right. I just thought that after all the cleaning you’ve been doing, you might like some refreshment.”

Belle twisted and looked over at the table, a small smile spreading over her face. “Why, Rumpelstiltskin! You want to be careful. Someone might think that you cared about your maid.”

“Of course not. I simply don’t want you perishing of malnourishment.”

He wasn’t sure what had made him summon the tea and invite her to leave her work in the first place, and even if he did care – which he most certainly didn’t – he knew that he couldn’t admit that much to Belle.

She raised an eyebrow, seeing straight through his bluster in the way that she had learned to do worryingly quickly after she had first arrived in the Dark Castle.

“Of course,” she said, deadpan, as she slipped off the windowsill and went over to the table.

“Good help is very hard to find these days!” Rumpelstiltskin protested, following her over and taking a cup for himself. “Where else would I find someone who works so zealously when certain flowers are in bloom?”

Belle didn’t respond, and Rumpelstiltskin realised that he was digging himself ever deeper into a hole that he had no desire to remain in for any longer. It was probably best to pretend that the conversation had never happened and change the subject.

“That tune,” he began. It wasn’t exactly getting them off topic altogether, but at least he wasn’t trying and failing to deny his feelings anymore. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Belle took a sip of tea, settling into her seat at the table. “I don’t even know what the words mean; I’ve studied a lot of ancient languages but this one is so old I think it’s beyond our ken. All I know is that the servants used to sing it whilst they were doing the spring cleaning. I’ve always associated it with warmth, and summer waiting just around the corner. I suppose it just came to me whilst I was cleaning. I didn’t even realise I was singing it until you mentioned it.”

“It’s very pretty,” Rumpelstiltskin admitted. “I can quite see why it stuck in your memory.”

“It reminds me of home.”

There was something wistful in Belle’s voice, and not for the first time, Rumpelstiltskin wondered if he had made the wrong choice in deciding to bring her here forever. She had agreed willingly, and he knew that she did not regret her decision. He had asked her about it before. Still, she couldn’t enjoy being stuck in the castle with only him for company. And not always that, considering the number of times he left on extended trips to make his deals.

“Do you miss it?”

Belle nodded. “Of course I do. It was the only home I’d ever known. All my family and friends are there, and the memories of my mother. But, as time goes on…”

She trailed off, looking down into the depths of her teacup, and Rumpelstiltskin thought that he could see the beginnings of blush colouring her cheekbones. He raised an eyebrow.

“As time goes on?” he prompted.

“I suppose, as time goes on, I’m starting to see home here as well.” Belle looked up and smiled at him. “Perhaps that’s why I wanted to do the spring cleaning. Sweeping away all the old memories that the castle holds of a time before I was here, and making new ones. Leaving my stamp on my new home, in a way.”

Rumpelstiltskin thought about Belle’s words for a long time after she had finished her tea and gone back to the windows, the light tune reaching his ears once more. The Dark Castle had been his home for almost as long as he had been the Dark One, and there was so much of him in it that it must have seemed daunting to Belle to live here; so alien to what she had known before.

He liked the idea of her working to make it into her home as well. He wanted her to feel at home here. Although he had dealt for a caretaker and he had not really considered her feelings in the matter, his intuition and vague foresight telling him that she was going to be important to him in the future somehow, he wanted her to like living here. She was going to be spending a lot of time here, after all. It would not make sense for her to resent her new abode. He did not want her to resent him.

That thought surprised him. Rumpelstiltskin had spent so long not caring about what people thought of him that this new desire for Belle’s approval, both of himself and of his home, was strange to him.

Nevertheless, he pushed it aside.

“Belle?”

“Yes, Rumpel?”

“I’m glad you feel at home here. Or at least, that you’re starting to. If there’s anything you need to make you feel more at home, please just ask.”

Belle smiled. “I’ll certainly do that, Rumpel. Thank you.”

Rumpelstiltskin chose not to read too far into what he had done. It was spring, after all, and the snow lilies were in bloom. It was a time for fresh starts and turning over new leaves. A time for making little changes, and hoping that they would pay off, and that Belle would appreciate his actions.

He glanced over at her again; she was still watching him, the little smile still on her face, and Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t help but smile back.

Yes, this spring was definitely the start of something new.

[aestheticritique]

For young men (Part 1)

In my latest lockdown induced depressive episode I have been meeting some new people online. They are all young, male, mostly heterosexual, very nice and extremely considerate. However, they also are often afraid becoming a burden, insecure in their appearance or social skills, and often struggling with mental health. Given this, they are also usually extremely afraid of never finding themselves having sex or getting into a meaningful relationship in the late stage neoliberal capitalist dystopia we find ourselves in. To be honest I didn’t understand them at first, especially their obsession with sex. But the more I am thinking about it, the more I realize that we are united in the same dynamic of seeing sex or love as magic verfication of... What?

Growing up, I used hookups as a way to prove to myself that I am worth something. I thought that my value was defined by men’s desire. I originally in writing this wanted to show my perspective from the other side of the same coin, but after realizing how much of an undertaking that would be, I decided to start with the two most common answers from men used as justification to why they think they won’t get laid. These are things I find will help these kinds of people out, but as a great thinker once said...

“I can’t mom you through this one, boys. You are on your own.” - Contrapoints

(I link songs I like through out btw, the underlined text are links you can click on)

Foreword: Social factors

The average age of first intercourse has been rising in the US. Teenagers have less sex than ever before. These changes will affect you. In teen movies and shows charakters often experiment with sexuality before the age of 18. Everything else is played as an abnormality. If we compare ourselves to this misrepresentation of teenage sexuality, of course we seem like the losers.

“The proportion of young people who have had sexual intercourse increases rapidly as they age through adolescence”. It’s very likely, at least from my view, that you are just going to grow out of the awkward zone of wanting intimacy but not getting it. Just like you grew out of other things, such as bad musical taste or that one gaudy outfit. Don’t stress over this one specifically either.

Adolescence is weird for all of us. Even if your first encounter is after college, let’s be real here: having such a good thing in your own place without your parents looming or having to share your room with a roommate you barely know is so much better anyway.

The Ugly fuck too

A common answer to my question why they think that they will never have sex is that they are “unattractive”. The implication being, that sex is the prize for looking a certain way.

But is it? We are so used to the perfect, porn-ready bodies in the media that we forget that the Ugly fuck too. We never see the foldes of fat and skin, never see acne warriors or moles, never see people who actually look like us.

In the movie “The Parasite”, there is a scene where the husband of Gook Moon-gwang, the former housekeeper, is implied to have sex. (the clip, starts at 3:00) It gave me weird feelings of discomfort, as the illusion so stereotypically found on the silver screen was not present. These two characters are not pretty. They look old. She is fat and he is a balding skeleton. They are not special, and that’s okay.

Being fuckable does not equal beauty. Being fuckable does not equal beauty. It was a terrifying thought initially for someone like me who defined their value over beauty & their beauty as being fuckable. It might also be a scary thought for someone who doesn’t think that they deserve love and intimacy because of their looks. I promise you that you still deserve love! Sex did not cure my problems with my appearance, or the fact that I based my self-esteem on the way I look. It will not make you feel normal. It will not make you feel better, prove your worth or even give you more self esteem in the long term beyond the initial rush of dopamine. It is not a caravan to fulfillment.

Beauty is a concept that is based on exclusion. Allow yourself to feel the pain of being excluded, of not reaching the impossible beauty standards and the disadvantages that come with it. Allow yourself to feel the fear of not being “man enough” and be happy in spite of it.

“Patriarchal masculinity teaches us to control our pain, but it can block us from experiencing the grief that is part of a full life. Chasing pleasure and controlling pain is patriarchal. Opening ourselves up to joy and grief is to be fully human.”

”Those of us in that skinny nerd category are especially prone to thinking that we aren’t “man enough.” [..] But the more I talked to men, the more convinced I became that almost all men at some point in their lives don’t feel man enough. Even the men I thought were the “real men” were scared.

That’s not surprising. Masculinity in patriarchy—that is, masculinity in a system of institutionalized male dominance—trains men to be competitive, in pursuit of conquest, which leads to routine confrontation, with the goal of always being in control of oneself and others. But no matter how intensely competitive one is, no matter how complete the conquest, no matter how many successful confrontations, and no matter how much one stays in control—men are haunted by the fear that they aren’t man enough, that they can never stop proving their masculinity.” - Robert Jensen

Stop comparing your appearance to other men’s. Start talking and bonding with them over your undoubtably shared insecurities rooted in society’s relentless toxic masculinity. Unlearning the things you’ve been indoctrinated into since conception is damn hard. I am still in the middle of it personally, but I promise you it is worth it. It will improve not only your relationships with other men, but also with yourself and that one girl you’re pining after.

There are a ton of resources targeted at women about self acceptance, but not many for men. Robert Jenson comes from a tradition of critical men’s groups. Even though I don’t agree with him on everything, he manages to scare most men (especially the kind I mentioned in the first paragraph) to their core, but also improves their lives drastically with his kindness and radical ideas. I implore you to look him up, and try your best to keep an open mind.

“A person who functions normally in a sick society is themselve sick.”

The other most common answer  to the initial question was “being socially maladjusted”, implying that sex is something you earn by behaving a certain way. It is ingrained in the way we talk about love. “Deserving love” is the best example. Neither love nor sex is a product of work. Love and intimacy are a lot like sleep. It is a slow but unconscious process. You slowly work into it, with no idea of what comes next, and then, after an agonizingly long moment, you’re there. The fall is not often expected or easy, is always exhilarating, but never the product of conformity to anything except comfort with who you are.

I do acknowledge that social settings can be weird, existentially unsettling, and full of unseen complexities. This is especially true if you are neurodivergent and / or struggling with mental health.  Being neurodivergent or struggling with mental health goes against the impossible, hegemonically masculine standard of always being in controll. It’s a common cause behind feelings of emasculation. Disregard that feeling, and remember that you deserve love, no matter how manly you are or are not, no matter how you behave.

Learning social settings are lot like learning to skate. In the beginning you will be covered in bruises, but with enough effort, you will be better at it. The chance of mistakes will get lower, but never zero. You will always have awkward situations, but that doesn’t mean that you are bad at them. It just means that you have room to improve still. Maybe consider getting lessons or joining a skate crew.

We tend to hyperfocus on the accidents. Think about how many nice conversations you had over the internet, text or otherwise. I ask you to value them. Value these positive experiences, value your friendships and acquaintances, value the people supporting you, online and offline. We tend to hyperfocus on meaningfull longterm friendships, just like we hyperfocus on love. Value your social enviroment, value someone who just made you feel ok for a moment. You are socially adapted, because you have a social enviroment you feel comfortable in, where you have relationships with people. The depth of a relationship is not messured by time, nor by physical touch. Being mindful of your feelings for the people around you can make you realize that you are less alone than you thought.

Some Tips

If you want to make friends additionally to that, here are some tips from someone, who is bad at social clues:

Join a group with a common interest or struggle: Book clubs, activist groups, selfhelp groups, they are great settings to meet new people and you already have a topic to talk about :)

If you feel save about it: Being open about your issues can help other people adapt to you and understand you better - especially in early on in relationships.

People sitting at the bar or smoking outside are generally more open for conversation

Don’t be afraid of getting rejected: They don’t reject you, when they reject a conversation with you. The reasons people don’t want to talk to you is very diverse. Stay respectful and polite.

Don’t expect to much: No one owes you a long conversation. A smalltalk is perfectly fine.

Learn to make compliments casually and learn to compliments that aren’t based on appearance.

Find a common ground (politically, a interest ect.) and talk about it

Take a improv class, seriously TAKE A IMPROV CLASS! (there are online ones, and sometimes it’s even free)

Here are some youtube videos by Anna Akana with more tips. (1) conversations, (2) how to be a better friend, (3) overthinking

Here are is a piece about being bad at relationship I liked.

Footnote: Trophies and muses

“We do not want to do the work of helping you to believe in your humanity. We cannot do it anymore. We have always tried. We have been repaid with systematic exploitation and systematic abuse. You are going to have to do this yourselves from now on and you know it.” - Andrea Dowkin

Behind the whole obsession with sex is often a distorted perception of women. Just remind yourself that women are human? Access to female bodies is not a human right. We are not trophies to push your ego. We are not there to inspire you or heal you. We are humans with agency. We desire love and being loved, just like everyone else.

I am tired, but I believe in your humanity...

xoxo,

aestheticritique

[rosemarinexjules]

If you could put Rosemariné and Jules in an alternate universe, where would you put them?

(I still have not got the hang of using Tumblr completely, lol ...)

(I'm sorry if you will find mistakes, my English isn't good enough, unfortunately 😓)

I'm not sure that I understood your question correctly, but I will try to answer...

If we talk about the possible (alternative) course of events in canonical time and place, I think they would have secret relationship that their wives would not know about (or would pretend they did not know, lol). One way or another, discovery means publicity and damage to reputation. And for Rosemarine, obviously, own reputation is important, if he still, as in his youth, wants to have a political career. I think, although Jules’s ambitions are simpler and less, he also values ​​his reputation. This fundamentally differ on them from Serge and Gilbert, who were so keen on or even obsessed with each other and their relationships that they completely ignored the factor of their reputation. It seems to me that the approach of Rosemarine and Jules would be more mature and, perhaps, sound. I think they still love each other very much and experience some emotional dependence on each other (which is not quite sensible), but they have long been not impulsive teenagers who can act recklessly, risking their reputation (although, I admit, I had such AU in the head, lol: D). Also, although in the canon the attraction between them is obvious, they never spoke directly about it. Obviously, therefore, their possible further romantic relationship can be considered just an alternative development of events. In real life, they would most likely leave everything as it is. But the world of KazeKi is full of exaggeration and some ... romance. So, I think, their feelings have a chance for development. But relationships, whatever they are, will be kept secret. And even if Adelaide and Serdina (Suldina? Cherdina? I’m still not sure about her name: D) found out about it they wouldn’t take out the dirty linen in public. Although, it seems to me, the secret romance can become a problem both for their family life, and for themselves. It is unpleasant to always feel unfaithful, and besides, to realize oneself bi- or homo - in a still sufficiently Christian society. To all this, the fear of being uncovered might also bother them both. In addition, we still don’t know whether Rosemarine managed to cope with his rape-related injury (although, obviously, he felt better, but this is not something that goes completely and completely over time, I think). Summing up, in an alternative, or maybe not quite alternative version of further events, their relationship has a chance to develop, but in any case it still will not be as simple as it might seem. Their growing up solves some problems, but creates others, lol.

My headcanon on this topic: they will have a difficult conversation with each other (maybe just after the evening when they went to drink, but maybe later). According to its results (again, maybe not right away) they decide to have a secret romance (not necessarily this will immediately have a sexual connotation, by the way). One way or another, they marry Adelaide and Serdin and will lead a normal social life, as befits people with their social status. They will often see each other, because in fact the marriage of Rosemarine and Serdina will provide grounds for family meetings (ahah, it turns out that they, in a sense, will become relatives? Lol X)). In appearance, nothing is beyond social morality. But also they will have secret meetings under specious reasons, I think. One way or another, they will get used to such a life over time. (I just hope they are not disclosed: D).

Here is such a headcanon. #too_many_words!

...

(But I'm still not sure that I understood the question correctly).

[blancheludis]

A/N: @stony-week, day 4, prompt: high school

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Relationship: Tony Stark / Steve Rogers Tags: High School, No Powers, Secret Relationship, Howard Stark’s A+ Parenting, Kissing

Summary: “You're staring at Tony's ass again." Steve can't help himself. Just like everything else about Tony, it is great. Too bad no one knows they are in a relationship. He has a feeling that no one believes his protest either way.

---

Time is standing still. For the umpteenth time this class, Steve has dragged his eyes up to the clock over the door, willing its hands to move faster. Steve has long since stopped listening to their teacher, can barely even say whether they are still talking about the human nervous system. It is still twenty-nine minutes until they are free. Twenty-eight and a half. Twenty-eight.

There is a commotion in the front of the classroom. Some heated argument carried out in short-breathed whispers and furious gestures. Tony and Bruce. They are likely still carrying out the debate they started earlier in Physics. Science is never boring where those two are involved.

Some paper goes flying and Tony half-rises from his seat to pick it up. Steve is mesmerized.

“You’re staring at Stark’s ass again,” Clint hisses in Steve’s ear.

On Steve’s other side, Bucky startles, returning to full attention for the first time since entering the classroom. He looks between Clint and the heat Steve feels rising to his cheeks, and grins.

“Don’t call him out like that,” Bucky jokes, not bothering to whisper, “Stevie thinks he’s being secretive.”

It is only with great effort that Steve manages not to look back at where Tony is settling back into his seat.

“I’m not staring,” Steve protests. His vehemence is dampened by trying to be quiet about it. When he glances past Clint at Natasha, she merely raises an eyebrow at him. No help will come from her then.

“You totally have.” Clint smirks. “Ever since Physics class.”

Because Tony had been called up front and offered a much better sight than anything else in that drab room.

“He was being rude,” Steve snaps, almost wishing their teacher would call upon them and end his friends’ interrogation. He does not look at the clock again, mostly because Tony sits in the same direction, and he should not give Clint and Bucky any more ammunition.

“Considering how Stark usually is, today was rather tame,” Bucky intercepts with that lazy confidence of his that implies he knows more than everybody else.

“Which you might have noticed if you hadn’t been busy staring at his greater assets,” Clint adds cheekily.

Steve is trapped between them, unable to go anywhere or to make the time pass faster. This is his personal hell.  

“You have a really bad taste in jokes, Clint,” he says, sounding miffed, which has Bucky snickering.

“Well,” Clint says, leaning close, “you have a bad taste in men.”

This is a trap. Thankfully, Steve notices before he can open his mouth and bury his friends under a hundred reasons why his taste is everything but bad. As it is, he bites the inside of his cheek and looks straight ahead at the blackboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Clint pout in disappointment.

An eternity later, the bell rings. Steve is out of his seat before their teacher has even finished his sentence. He is not normally this rude, but he cannot wait to get out of here. Clint and Bucky are making plans for their movie night, which will, as usual, dissolve into mayhem and upset stomachs from too much sugar. Normally, Steve might pitch in, but today he prefers to sneak out while they are still busy, lest they start the teasing again.

As he shoulders his backpack, Natasha appears at his side. “You’re a bad liar,” she says simply, looking not at him but towards the front of the class where Tony and Bruce have still not finished their argument.

She does not wait for him to answer – knowing she could not believe him either way – but walks past him to join Bucky and Clint. Steve could defend himself. In the end, though, he just uses his chance to escape unnoticed.

Tony catches up with Steve after school. They meet at their usual table in a small café that none of Steve’s friends frequents. Normally, Tony might be annoyed by the secrecy but the coffee is really good and he has no intention of ruining his reputation by being associated with Barton and his bad jokes. Romanoff’s secret assassin vibes might be useful, but the two sadly come as a package deal.

He noticed Steve rushing out of the classroom earlier, face bright red, his friends laughing at him. It might be a stupid hope, but he wishes they could share these things. In Tony’s imagination, everything would be so much better if they did not have to sneak around. For once, he would feel less like an illicit mistress. Things are as they are, though, and Tony knows to make the best of it. It is still so very baffling to him that Steve wastes his time on him at all.

“You’ve been staring at my ass,” Tony says by way of greeting as he slides into his seat. A steaming cup of coffee is already waiting for him, which he immediately pulls towards himself, inhaling deeply. That is almost enough to profess his undying love to Steve.

Meanwhile, Steve buries his face in his hands. “Not you too.”

“I don’t blame you,” Tony smirks, “it’s a great ass.” He takes a sip of his coffee, not minding how hot it is. His tongue is already used to it. “But that’s not my point. You’re really shit at lying.”

“I’m not lying,” Steve protests with some petulance. “Just omitting something.”

Steve is one of those people who, if he stoops down to lying at all, broadcast it to everyone within a mile to see. He pulls up his shoulders, worries his lips. He is a textbook example for a liar, a walking cliché.

“Secrecy, then.” Tony shrugs dismissively. Word games bore him. “So not your thing. Especially since you’re the one who wanted to keep this quiet.”

This being a relationship. Their relationship, as in Tony and Steve being together. For someone whose brain is usually so quick to grasp anything presented to it, Tony has to repeat these words to himself fairly often. Daily, even. A world in which Steve Rogers, football star and all-around good human being, would willingly spend time with Tony Stark, rich bad boy and obsessive nerd, is not one he can imagine, despite living in it. It seems too good to be true.

“For you,” Steve answers easily, looking at Tony like he is the only thing worth seeing. Then he frowns a bit. “You could make it a little bit easier by not winking at me in the middle of class.”

Mostly, Tony just cannot help himself. Sometimes, he is just overcome by a sudden, cruel doubt, so he just has to do something to prove he has not just been imagining things with Steve. If he can wink at Steve in the middle of school and not get an earful for it, there has to be some truth to their relationship.

“To get a rise out of you,” he explains, completely unrepentant. “We’re playing at having a healthy rivalry, after all.” They are both trying to act like they always did while withholding the fact that they have some affection for each other now.

Steve’s face looks vaguely like he is about to scold Tony but they are interrupted by the waitress bringing cake. It is no secret that Steve wants Tony to eat more – also more healthy food, but he settles for what he can get. The result is Steve ordering Tony something new each week. Officially, they call it a learning experience. In truth, it is just Steve trying to spoil Tony rotten the best he can. Today, the cake is blueberry. Tony already knows it will be a favourite.

“You’re being everything but inconspicuous,” Steve says as he picks at his chocolate éclair.

His mouth full of cake, Tony shrugs. “Because I don’t care whether the whole world knows.”

They have had that argument a dozen times, but Steve will not budge. In a way, Tony should feel flattered, but his whole life consists of acting and lying. He is tired of it.

“I do,” Steve says firmly, “since I’d like to avoid your father kicking you out.”

Howard would literally kick him, leaving him with some broken bones to drive the point home. Tony has been careful to hide his various bruises from Steve, but even though they have never explicitly talked about it, Tony is sure Howard’s abuse is just as impossible to keep quiet as their relationship.

Still, he rolls his eyes, pretending there is nothing to worry about. “I’ll land on my feet. I always do.” That, at least, is the one Stark family trait he has successfully implemented in his life.

Steve puts his fork down forcefully, expression upset. “You won’t have to if I have anything to say about it.”

That is the thing with Steve, he still believes in saving the world. He believes humanity as a whole and Tony in particular are not beyond hope. It is refreshing to be with someone so pure, compared to the shrewd businessmen and rich snobs Tony has to deal with otherwise. Life would be so much better with a couple more people like Steve in it – although Tony might be biased.

Because he does not want to be arguing, Tony grins and says, “It could be so romantic, though. I’ll run away and sleep on your couch. Your mum loves me.”

It would never work. Howard would find him and drag him home before the week is out, making the life of everyone who helped Tony miserable. He can dream, though.

“My mum doesn’t know you,” Steve answers dryly, not quite ready to give up on their former topic.

Tony waves dismissively. “All parents love me. My mother raised me with manners.” She also taught him to always be ready to bite behind his smiles. “Also, you told me you come after her, and you love me too, right?”

Tony almost winces at how needy he sounds, but he has learned to keep his head up high. If this relationship with Steve does not work out, he prefers to know sooner rather than later. His heart has always had a tendency to break easily.

“Of course I do,” Steve says without hesitation. Tony could kiss him for it, right here in the open. “I just –” He interrupts himself again, looking at Tony with a heaviness to his gaze that cannot mean anything good. Then he nods as if he has come to a decision. “We’re having a movie night at Bucky’s tonight. Want to come with me?”

The words are as simple as they are unexpected, unheard of. Tony does not trust his ears, even while he is sure Steve would not pull a prank like this on him. For almost a year now they have been sneaking around everyone’s backs. Tony’s parents, of course, but also Steve’s friends, who he views as family. They decided in the beginning that no one should know until they are both out of here, until Tony is of age and able to get away from the expectations loaded on his shoulders.

This is not just a break of their self-imposed rule, it could change everything. Tony is not sure he is ready for that. He might be whining about the secrecy, but he likes having Steve all to himself, to not have to fight for his place at Steve’s side.

“Are you inviting me to meet your friends?” Tony asks, voice full of doubt.

“Yes,” Steve agrees like there is nothing to it. “I mean, they already know you.”

“But we don’t like each other,” Tony exclaims, feeling like this is a disaster in the making. “And how are you going to explain my presence? That you didn’t finish yelling at me for disrespecting our teachers before school was out so you want to continue in private?”

Their carefully built house of cards is ready to collapse. Before Tony can descend into the panic building in the back of his head, Steve clicks his tongue to get his attention.

“I’m going to introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Tony stares. Of all possible and impossible scenarios, he has not expected this. Barton is notoriously bad at keeping his mouth shut, and Barnes usually glares at Tony so bad that it would be no surprise if he used this information against him. Romanoff – well, Tony does not want to imagine what she would do to him if she thought he had wronged Steve. They are such a loyal group.

“We’re walking in circles here, Rogers,” Tony says, not sure what he even wants Steve to do. “You can either want us to remain secret or invite me to hang out with your friends.”

Steve nods with a grave expression, making Tony think he has messed up. Here he had been offered a hand and refused it. Then Steve gets up and slides on the bench next to Tony so that they are sitting pressed against each other. Warmth spreads into Tony from where their legs touch.

Tony automatically lets go of his fork, cake forgotten, when Steve reaches for his hand. If there was even one logical thought left in his brain, he should call an end to it. Anyone could see them here, making a spectacle of themselves. Or, perhaps, the only thing making a spectacle is Tony’s heart, beating wildly.

“You’re not my dirty secret Tony,” Steve says in that quiet, firm voice of his that leaves no doubt he believes what he is saying, “and I don’t want you to feel like it. I don’t want your father to know, because you might be all blasé about his behaviour, but I’m scared of what he might do to you. Whatever happens at school can and will get back to him.”

He takes a deep breath, likely thinking the same thing as Tony. If they do this, there is no going back.

“My friends will stay quiet about it if we ask, they might even help with keeping our cover,” Steve explains with more confidence than Tony feels. “But they are important to me. Bucky is like family. I want them to meet you as who you are to me. I want us to be able to be open about our relationship with the people I trust most beyond you.”

Tony is floored by the emotion he sees in Steve’s eyes, emotion that is directed at him. “I – Steve.”

With a small laugh, Steve squeezes Tony’s hand. “I know you’re not great with words. So just pick me up at seven,” he says, making the decision for them. “And be prepared for Clint eating pineapples on his pizza.”

For several long moments, Tony’s tongue feels heavy, unable to form words. His lips, though, pull up into a wide smile of their own volition, and Tony’s stomach is doing summersaults. That is when he knows he is going to ignore what his brain says. He wants this. If Howard finds out, they will deal with that when the time comes. For now, Tony wants to be happy.

Leaning against Steve’s side, Tony wants to thank him. Instead, his mouth does what it wants and says, “I knew something was seriously wrong with that guy.”

“I’m sure the two of you will get along like a house on fire. I’ll regret ever introducing you two.” This time, Steve’s laughter holds more relief than amusement, making Tony realize that he was worried Tony might say no. Tony would have never thought he might not be the only one being insecure about their relationship.

“You don’t have to do this just for me,” Tony says.

By now, he is sure Steve would not do it if he did not mean it, but there is always a voice sounding suspiciously like Howard in his head, telling him to never expect anything good happening to him.

With his free hand, Steve gently cups Tony’s cheek. “You deserve the world, Tony, and I’ll readily share what little I have of it.”

Not caring anymore who might see them, Tony leans closer and presses a small kiss on Steve’s lips. “I love you, Steve.”

Nothing could make him happier than the readiness with which Steve answers. “Love you, too.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #201

“one for all, all for one. we are strong, we are one. we are one nemesis.”

Do you feel pressure to keep your life interesting? It's not interesting at all, so. I'd sure as hell like it to be. At what time in your life were you happiest? If it was in the past, would you want to go back and relive it, though still knowing all the things you know now? Like... early-mid-'17, maybe? That's when my recovering really kicked off. I wouldn't go back. Is there anyone who seems to always be under the influence of something when you see them or talk to them? Does it bug you? No. Have you ever found the blog of someone you knew in real life, but not very well? How did it change your opinions on them? No. Then again I've never tried to. What is something you are incredibly behind on? Politics. I'm more importantly (to me, lmao) half a year behind on Good Mythical Morning, believe that or not. I don't watch TV anymore so don't really care, but I'm massive seasons behind on Supernatural. What’s the last allergic reaction you had? Shit, right now with this seasonal business. I've been congested for weeks. What does it mean when you start eating less? What does it mean when you start eating more? If I eat less than usual, it'll always relate to weight loss, I assure you. I've worked to greatly improve on the latter, however; eating more generally means I'm extremely depressed. Or bored, but I've got enough discipline by now to not eat if I'm not hungry. Is there anything you feel the need to organize by chart? No. What’s your opinion on mid-day naps? Go for it, it's good for you anyway. When’s the last time you spontaneously made plans? With who/to do what? Who knows; I don't have people to spontaneously make plans with. What’s the strangest named pet you’ve ever had? Probably Harry Potter the guinea pig. Or the fact I had a Chinese water dragon, green lizards, named Shadow. Okay look he was my second pet and I was little. What are some defense mechanisms you find yourself using when in an argument with someone? It's very likely I'll try to be totally factual and short without true thought as a fear reaction of losing the person, while on the inside I can be in a total panic attack. Do you know if there is anyone who was once important to you that you will never talk to again, even though you could? I absolutely will not speak to my former best friend unless completely necessary for whatever reason. Do you and your boyfriend or girlfriend fight a lot? Not at all. Have your parents ever told you that you couldn’t hang out with a certain someone? No. Have you ever cleaned up someone else’s vomit? I. Absolutely. NEVER will. I will absolutely hurl. Does your boyfriend or girlfriend get mad/jealous when you talk about the opposite sex? Nope. What was the last R-rated movie you watched? Halloween, I believe. Have you ever painted a car? No. Are there any gnomes in your yard? No. I've never understood the appeal of them at all... Do you have a funny last name? Does anyone make fun of it? No. Are the blankets that are on your bed now made by someone you know in life? No. Have you ever been pulled over by the cops for speeding? No. Have you ever met someone in person that you met online? Sara! There're others I hope to one day, too. Have you got any half or step siblings? Four halves, one step. Do you like kids’ movies? Not tiny kids (like, Barney and such type of things), but "kid movies" like Disney and such, hell yeah. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? No. If you have younger siblings, how old were you when your siblings were born? I was just over two years old. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No. I did that in... I think middle school and some of high school, though. I have NO idea how I used to be able to do that. The last time you burned your tongue or mouth, what were you eating? I'm not sure. Are there a lot of trees in your yard? Not in the yard, no. There's a good number just beyond our fence, though. What was the high and low temperature where you live today? Phone says 31*F and 50*F. Have you ever made ice cream out of snow? Snow cream, yeah. That's a common southern treat when it actually snows. What’s the coldest you remember ever walking outside in? Maybe single digits? What’s your least favorite color? Puke green. Or maybe bright yellow (pastel is pretty). …and your favorite? Pink. What’s your second favorite color? Maroon or burgundy. How many pairs of gloves do you wear in the winter? Usually zero. What’s one thing that most people complain about that you love? COLD WEATHER. What do you remember the most about recess at school when you were a kid? Oh boy... when my meerkat obsession began, I unintentionally started a trend of digging "burrows" with others in the sandbox. Our nails by the time we were done, holy shit. I LOVED doing it. What color are your kitchen chairs? A mess of beige hues with floral stuff on it, I think? I just know they're hideous and we all hate them. I don't really pay any attention to what the cushions really look like, though. Have you ever dated anybody online? *points to Sara* Do you listen to instrumental bands such as Hammock, Trentemoller, etc.? Nah. Were you ever a 'secret admirer’ before? No. Ever stalked someone? No. Do you poke a lot of people on Facebook? Is this even a thing still? But I didn't, no. What was even the point. What’s the farthest you’ve ever been from home? Illinois. Have you ever been close to getting kidnapped? Oh um no. Never seen this one on a survey before. Do you have any eating disorders? No, thank god. Do you plan on getting married? I hope so. What is one of the saddest novels you’ve ever read in your lifetime? First thing that came to mind was The Giver. I'm sure there's others on par with or sadder than it, but it's just the first that came to me. Orbit or 5 gum? I think I prefer 5? Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Many. The last time you threw up, what caused it? An ex-med I was on that had a strong side-effect of vomiting. Quit that. Did you have any foreign exchange students at your high school? Maybe? Idk. Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? I'm sure there's something somewhere, but nothing that comes to mind. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? I think that's fact... I'm not saying religion itself is bad, no, but I think everyone can agree there'd be more peace without it. Have you kept the same icon here for a long time? Yeah; I don't take nearly enough pictures to have a new one, though I wanna change it because WOW do I look like a bitch. Why did you choose your icon, anyway? I thought the picture itself was decent, and it let my inner goth pop out a bit. If only I had the wardrobe and dedication. Any fun facts (on any topic) you’d like to share? Well here's your meerkat one: Meerkats are the second-most social animals on Earth, falling just behind naked mole rats. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? "Hurt my feelings" isn't the right word; I feel embarrassed. Do you like it when people give you nicknames? Yeah, actually. Even just calling me "Britt" makes me feel like we're closer or something. More personal ones though, I really like. When you make friends, are you usually the one to "make the first move"? Definitely not. What fandoms are you in? Like, A LOT, but actively, Markiplier, a few other YouTubers, Silent Hill, Shadow of the Colossus, World of Warcraft, and meerkats. Maybe more, idk. I lose count. I would say Spyro, but I'm totally uninvolved in some areas of it, like Skylanders. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? I wouldn't say left, just lost a considerable amount of interest, like Good Mythical Morning and  PewDiePie. Used to watch every day, and now both are seldom. Do you more often feel superior or inferior to others? Inferior. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffled, definitely. Can you do any impressions? Not of a specific person. Do you carry pepper spray? Have you ever had to use it? No. Best thing to do during a power outage? Play a horror game as my laptop's battery dies lmao. At night, anyway. During the day, idk. Has your power ever gone out for more than a day? I don't believe so. When was the last time you had a headache? What about stomachache? Headache, I believe once when Sara was here early this month. Stomachache, not that long ago. Which one of your classes goes by the slowest? N/A The last time you walked somewhere, who were you with? Probably at Sara's down the path. Maybe something later, but idr. Where is your second home? Sara's is the second house I'm most comfortable in besides my own. Or maybe Dad's, idk. What did you last have a conversation with one of your siblings about? Idr. Do you have the person you hate the most on Facebook? No. How many times did you clean out your text inbox today? I don't clean it out. Well, I have once or twice while trying to make space on my phone. What’s something you would do drunk but never do sober? I have a feeling I'd be way more open than I'd like. Have you ever had a night that’s been hands down the best night of your life? If so, describe what happened? I'm not sure. What time do your parents normally get home from work? Dad, idk. I don't live with him. Mom, it varies greatly, but typically 8:30ish. Is family the most important thing in your life? If not, what is? My definition of family (only includes people who I feel are emotionally family), yes. Or my mental health. Is writing something that you enjoy doing? Ha ha obviously. —would you rather read or write? Write. Would you rather draw or take photographs? Take photos. Do you prefer black and white or color photographs? Why? I can't pick a side; changes in color can seriously alter the emotions of the shot, making neither superior to the other imo. Both are beautiful, some moreso than others, depending on the composition. What was the last thoughtless thing you did? I'm not sure. What is one movie you’ve seen, but few others have? A lot of "idk" in this one. Off the top of my head, the kids movie Napoleon wasn't popular in America, I think? —how about a movie you haven’t seen, but many others have? The entire Harry Potter series. What is something you do subconsciously? Play with my lip ring. Who was the last person to toy with your emotions? *shrugs* When was the last time you cheated at something? I have no clue. what’s the most money you’ve received from the ‘tooth fairy’? I think $5? Describe the main problem with your last relationship? I didn't like him in that way. When was the last time you debated with someone? Some time ago with Sara about a political view. And mind you it was a friendly debate, not an argument as apparently all are nowadays. What cartoon/anime character can you most relate to? There's too many characters to think through. Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? Leave me and my Mark icons-in-the-making alone. Do you have your own personal water jug? If so, where did you buy it? No. How do you get rid of your hiccups? Nothing works for me. When you sneeze, do you sneeze into your hand or the inside of your elbow? Elbow. What actor/actress do you find weird? Lol I'm not to judge there. What’s your ultimate favorite bagel? Just a normal one with a moderate amount of cream cheese. Do you have a blister anywhere on your body? No. Do you get manicures/pedicures regularly? I never do. When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with? February '17. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? She'd spank me and/or say I was grounded for a week, which always only lasted like a couple days or so. What’s something you’re really bad at compared to others? Like, any kind of math. Who is the person you are the closest to? (emotionally, not physically) Mom or Sara in different ways. What are some odd habits you have relating to food/eating? I'm picky as fuck with texture. I'm particular with food in general. Last furry thing you touched: My kitty. <3 What do you check out first when you check someone out? I've never really paid attention... I mean, it probably depends on the person, what catches my attention most? Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Would you raise your children like your parents raised you? In some ways, in other ways no. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No. Are you donating your organs? Yup. Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom threatened it. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Who was the last person you spent more than 15 minutes on the phone with? My dad. Have you been swimming in the last six months? How long ago was the beach trip... idr. Maybe. What hair color looks best on you and what’s your natural color? From what I've had so far, I love red on me. My natural color is brown. What is your favorite show to watch? That '70s Show is something you can always put on and I'll pay attention. Like, I'm never /not/ in the mood to watch it if I have to watch TV for whatever reason. Do you wear necklaces? Rarely. Do you blush easily? Yup. ;-; Are you an artist/writer? Not professionally, but I do both. Are you in love? If so, does the one you love know? Yes and yes. Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? With kids, not at all. At all. Instead, I have them big time in serious, romantic relationships; I have the biggest "PROTECT PROTECT TAKE CARE FOR THEM AND PROTECT AT ALL COSTS" instinct. ACTUAL mama bear. Is there someone in your life whose career/life choices you find immoral/unethical? Have you ever told that person your views? Do you find it difficult to support them (emotionally or otherwise) because of their choices? Does anyone not have this kind of person in their life? Anyway, I've maybe said so casually and gently where it was relevant, but I'm not positive. Of course it's hard to support them, and sometimes I simply can't, ex. with my former best friend. What trait do you feel you lack that you wish you possessed? INDEPENDENCE. I'm borderline on the diagnoses of dependent personality disorder with how I have a very difficult time making my own choices and doing lots of things on my own; it's a serious problem with my mom, and I worry how I'll be when I no longer live with her, really. Like, she still schedules my appointments, makes some serious phone calls I'm scared doing myself (but sometimes she can't with me being an adult), she handles just... a lot. Have you ever considered writing your memoirs? No. Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not at all, romantic or platonic! My online buds mean just as much, some even more, than my "real life" ones. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not on a lot, but for things I'm really hyped for, particularly games and music, yeah. For the second part of the question, yes. I did that for WoW's Warlords of Draenor expansion, and maybe Legion? Idr tho because I was nervous asking my mom. I also think I mighta seen the Warcraft movie the day it came out, but I'm also uncertain. Have you ever been in trouble for illegally downloading something? No. Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No. Would you rather have a job for which you had to go in early in the morning or one you had to stay late into the evening at? Early, defs. Whenever I work, I'm certainly aiming for a morning shift. Get it over with, and plus, I'm in a better mood in the mornings, so it'd be easier to get work done; plus, getting out of the house is a good way for me to come home and actually feel like I got my dose of social interaction for the day, so now I can enjoy the rest of the day. Is there someone who seems to only reach out to you when they want something from you? No; I don't tolerate that shit. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yeah. Tragic romantic things get me easily, and seeing someone die and another character lose it over their death kills me. Happy reunions are tear-jerkers, too. I would probably still cry at the end of Homeward Bound. How did your expectations of the last book you read compare to your thoughts after reading it? What about your expectations of the last movie you watched? The original Alice In Wonderland was a book I was surprised to be that short, and it wasn't really as "out there" as I'd expected. I still enjoyed it, though. Last movie... that was Elf. I didn't anticipate it being as damn cute and funny as it was. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? Just to track my period. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Sara's. If you could’ve been at any historical event, which would you have liked to witness firsthand? Perhaps the first Thanksgiving? OH, but I would without a doubt choose the extinction of the dinosaurs if I was somehow entirely protected. That had to be, sad as it is, visually incredible. Is there something that you really want to do but are afraid of doing? If so, why are you afraid of doing it? Rollercoasters; I'm terrified of vomiting, however, and also fainting with how I handle dizziness. What is something society “expects” you to do that you don’t want to do and/or don’t plan on doing? Don't expect me to dress up all fancy going to an expensive restaurant or something. I'm going to eat, I'm not worried about my damn clothing. But more than anything, I absolutely refuse to let a job hold me back from getting tatted or pierced. I'm perfectly aware that really slims down my options, but I sincerely couldn't care less. I'm not bending to one of the most ludicrous expectations I know of. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you’re drawn to? Yeah! I ADORE gothic especially, and Roman, too. What’s the most stalker-like/creepy thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t think you’ve done anything like that, what’s the most stalker-like thing someone’s done to you? Lol I should really have an answer for this, considering the breakup... I don't believe I did anything "stalker-ish," maybe not even creepy, just rude and nosy. Sorry for trying (but thankfully failing) to hack your Facebook to see if you were talking to a girl some time early into the breakup, Jason. ;_; Reeeaaally regret that. What is something you can only understand if you’ve experienced it first hand? Pure heartbreak. It is absolutely, utterly agonizing. Are you more of an open person or a private person when it comes to talking about personal things? (Relationships, your sex life, finances, etc.) It depends on the subject, but usually, I am very private, particularly irl. I'm more open online by a long shot. Do you agree or disagree with the saying “If two former lovers can remain friends, either they were never in love, or still are.”? Why or why not? That's bullshit. People change, and you can lose romantic interest. What’s a part of yourself, physically, that you’re unhappy with? (Hair, face, skin, body part, etc.) Is it something you’re able to change or something you’re stuck with? Uh, pretty much everything because of weight? I can change that and am trying so hard to, but I've been at a stagnant weight for over a damn year, and I can't even begin to wonder how. It dropped like flies in '17. Do you think it’s a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it’s assault? DOUBLE. FUCKING. STANDARD. Fight the hell back to protect yourself. In terms of a wedding, put these things in order from what would be MOST important to be perfect, to LEAST important… Engagement ring, dress, hair, venue, ceremony, food, pictures, decorations, honeymoon. Ceremony, pictures, honeymoon, dress, venue, hair, ring or decorations, food. Do you have a go-to small talk conversation topic? Asking how they've been. Does anyone owe you money? Do you owe anyone money? (Besides credit cards) No. Well, I owe my previous college money, anyway. Even though I shouldn't, so Mom's trying to take legal action with that and their shitty communication. If someone was going to buy you any practical gift (anything except a house or car), what would you choose? A sum of money for a big 'ole tattoo, boys. Is there a quote that’s helped you through hard times or really stuck with you? What is it? "You're perfectly flawed" from an Otep song. I have that tattooed for a reason. Then there's countless ones from my partial hospitalization, but "Deal with life, or life deals with you" particularly will stick out to me probably forever. There's loads more. What’s something practical and useful “real world” things that should be taught in high school aside from the basics like English, math, science, etc.? CHRIST, why the FUCK do we not have classes teaching us how to handle the adult life with things like finances. What are some things that a person or couple could do that would show they’re insecure about themselves or their relationship? More than anything probably, go through their phone. ACTUALLY fuck off. Do you have sympathy for people who die as a result of their own actions? (Example: someone doesn’t wear a helmet when they ride their motorcycle and they get in an accident and die.) Well of course; a human being still died, and maybe it's even sadder when it was in their own hands. It's disappointing, but you should of course feel sympathy. What’s your favorite old Disney movie and favorite new Disney movie? Old, The Lion King. New, there's SO many to choose from, so I can't give a certain answer, but possibly Coco. I adored that movie. Name something “trendy” or popular that you dislike. I don't pay attention to what's trendy, really. Idk. Oh wait, is that "Kiki Do You Love Me?" or whatever that trash is called still around? There’s a quote that says “Anyone who gave you confidence, you owe them a lot.” Is there a person who YOU can thank for your confidence? Hm... I'm not sure about this quote. But anyway, I don't even have confidence to begin with. “Dirty talk” in the bedroom…love it, like it, don’t care, dislike it, or hate it? Usually like, particularly if we're being extremely passionate. I'm suuuuper shy delivering it, though. Hell, I get flustered hearing it towards me sometimes, too. What is/are your favorite type(s) of ethnic food, and what’s your favorite food within that type? American. Favorite... I think cheeseburgers. Would you be more hurt by your significant other having a long drawn out emotional affair but never having sex with that person OR a long drawn out physical affair where it was just lots of sex and no (or few) emotions attached? The first, my reasoning being for them to be emotionally invested in another person says more about how much they "love" me versus the latter option. I dunno... the second is awful, too. Tough question to answer. Say one positive thing and one negative thing about your boss (or any other authority figure). I'll pick my mom. Positive: Her support is never-ending. Negative: She's "always right." How would you describe your relationship with your hair over the years? I've grown more and more comfortable with it as I've grown bolder with cutting it. How do you practice truly living in the moment? I'm bad at this... Do you think most abusers know they’re being abusive? Probably, especially if it's physical. How do you feel about your SO daily/regularly checking up on a couple of his exes on social media? That'd be pretty suspicious, but then again, I can't really talk? One of my best friends/my ex is still a very good friend of mine, and we talk every now and again with no romantic interest (at least on my end; idk if he still like-likes me). That being said, I don't know how I'd feel, especially if it was daily. I do know I'd be less anxious if our relationship was strong and steady. What perfume of yours does your SO love on you? She doesn't like perfume, and I almost never wear it anyway. Have you made any (at least semi-) permanent alterations to your appearance? If so, how did you find the experience and do you regret it? Tattoos, there's a visible hole where my first lip ring was, and the holes in my left earlobe have been seriously stretched (it goes to literally the bottom of my lobe) from heavy earrings for a long time. No clue how the right side is totally fine. Anyway, the only tattoo I regret is my "ohana" one, as it doesn't really suit me; I don't give a damn if you're blood, I choose my "real" family, but even then, people change. I know I'll get it covered at some point; right now I'm considering a bat tat on my chest with its wings expanded at some point, and it may conceal it, but it's not high on my to-do list. I love my "how rare and beautiful it is to exist," although I wish I'd made a more unique design of it instead of stealing it from Pinterest... ha ha. I don't want tattoos others have; I want mine to stand out. I also wish I'd chosen an even more professional artist to do my Markiplier piece, but I plan on going to a better parlor when I can afford it to get my vision "right." It's probably the most important tattoo I'll ever have, so I want it perfect in my eyes. My artist didn't do bad, not at all, it just came out with a less convincing-galaxy background. It'll be an easy fix with the right artist. Onto the lip ring, I regret deliberately wanting it slightly to the left and not dead-center through my lip. I have no idea why I wanted it there? You can still see the faint hole when I pull my lips back, which I hate. Lastly, I just HATE the appearance of stretched-out earlobes. I don't even wear earrings anymore with how they look like there's about to just fall off. Women with disabilities/anxiety/depression/other mental health issues/chronic illnesses, how do you get it across to your SO/friends that sometimes you just can’t do something? Why specifically women? But anyway, sometimes it's just impossible. I don't think anyone can really "get it" until you have a breakdown/accident or whatever in front of them. Do you prefer your guy to wear cologne or not? I like the smell of light cologne. Ladies, how important is it to you that your SO wears/would wear a wedding ring? I suppose it'd be concerning if they just didn't want to, but like if it doesn't fit or anything, of course don't try to wear it. What was the turning point that led you to decide for or against having children? First, I took a look at my mental health and capabilities and chose I would NOT be a good, healthy mother able to raise them. Also, aforementioned maternal instinct lacking. As well, I don't want to invest years into a person that might just wind up hating me. And super importantly, my alone time is extremely important, and thaaat's pretty impossible with kids. They're expensive. Peace and quiet, bye. Pressure to ensure they grow up to be a good, independent person. Yeah, there's lots of reasons I can confidently say no, I don't want kids. How do you feel about men who preface statements on non-gendered things with “as a guy”? *shrugs* It depends, I guess. Does anyone else just HAVE to wear pajamas/lounge clothes when you’re at home? I live in my pjs. Is having your “dream” wedding really that important to have? No. What would your reaction be if your SO wanted the opposite type of wedding than you did? Just compromise. Who says things have to match a theme. What kind if body type do you find attractive and unattractive (for your preferred sex)? Let's get this straight first: I don't care about appearances. But of course, that doesn't mean I don't have preferences. For girls, I'm really attracted to curvy women at a healthy weight. Men, I like just a tad bit muscular, but noooot very much. How do you feel about strangers approaching you with compliments? I'm flattered, but I will definitely get anxious, especially if it's a man. I'm more terrified than anxious if they do that. Do you consider it cheating if your SO goes to a strip club and then doesn’t tell you? Hm, not really cheating. I'd be preeeetty unhappy if my s/o did that and kept it a secret, but I'm not quite sure how I'd react to knowing they went to a strip club. I think most likely I'd just feel like I wasn't enough and cry. Maybe I'd be fine with it if they asked me beforehand how I felt and I had their word they wouldn't "do anything." Like it's simple fact that you can be in a relationship and still find others attractive, so I guess if you just wanna go out for once and I feel you're genuine when telling me you'll behave, it's not too big a deal? But I'm still not sure. Would you be more offended if your man cheated on you with a guy or a girl? I'll just pretend you said "your partner." Both would upset the hell out of me, but I think doing it with the opposite gender would most hurt me, especially because you're taking a risk of someone getting pregnant. Is there something you are afraid, embarrassed, or ashamed to tell someone? That I love/play World of Warcraft, lmao. Admitting I'm an RPer would be even worse. DON'T ask what my worst weight was. The Joel thing. There's probably loads more. Are you struggling in any way right now?  Oh, of course. When was the last time you made a REALLY stupid decision? Oh boy. Really bad... HA, actually, probably this one time I drank a milkshake too fast, and my stomach still hasn't forgiven me. Do you put candy canes on your Christmas tree? Sometimes. Have you ever written/drawn/painted random stuff on your bedroom wall? No. What do you currently hear? "Professional Griefers" by deadmau5 ft. Gerard Way. What’s your favorite flavor of Doritos? Cool ranch. Who was the last person to hold your hand? Sara. Do you have any clothing with animal print on it? No. Have you ever seen a hippo in person? I don't believe we have any at our zoo, no. What’s something you do too much? Sit here. In the bed. On my laptop. Fun. How often do you have nightmares? Rarely. What was the last thing you downloaded on your computer? A game on Steam. I can't remember which. Honestly, are you spoiled? I don't think so, at least not much. Is there anyone’s laugh that makes you laugh when you hear it? Mark's. Have you ever parked in a handicapped spot when you weren’t supposed to? I will lose all respect for you if you pull that shit. Do you have a tan yet? It's winter, and I don't tan anyway. Have you ever been told you have a bad attitude? I think my grandmother did once on the same occasion she called me a bitch. Do you make other people laugh often? I don't think so, no. What are some things you want out of life? Satisfaction with all I've done and experienced, more than anything. Do you feel bored with your life? Boy, do I. Who’s someone you miss that you haven’t talked to in years? Megan. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? No. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? No. No. No. Nope. Not answering. Stay the actual fuck away from Abilify. How do you get through hard times? Talking with/venting to Sara and/or Mom, watch my favorite YouTubers, listen to (usually relatable) music, and just remind myself if I survived '16, I can persist through just about anything. Rarely, I draw some vent art. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. I don't believe it has any power, even with me believing in some kind of ultimate creator. What do you miss about high school? Friends. What do you miss the most about college? I was in a very bad mental state through both attempts, so I miss nothing. Did you like high school? I've hated school since I was in pre-k, dude. Have you ever been the victim of a crime? I don't think so? Is your life worse than you could have ever have imagined it to be? or is it better, or just what you expected? Worse. I mean it's not awful, but I expected muuuuch more by this point... What was the last good book you read about? Arthas' rise to the Lich King, and it hurt me okay I still wanna press charges against Christie Golden. What’s the last great song you discovered? "Natural Born Sinner" by In This Moment. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Nope. I pretty much never post about myself because I'm too afraid of saying something stupid "in front of" all the people I call friends. AvPD is a blessing. What is the most beautiful landscape you have ever seen? Mountains. Who were your favorite celebrities as a child? Steve Irwin was everything to me. I also loved Jesse McCartney and the Backstreet Boys. Oh, Jeff Corwin, too. What do you miss the most about your past? No mental illnesses. .-. Do you like getting older? At my current age, I don't really care... What hard thing are you going through right now, if applicable? The biggest thing currently is practically being chained to my house. I'm home alone almost everyday and usually all day, so day after day I'm just. Sitting here in this house by myself. Even as an introvert, it's gotten to a serious severity of loneliness and maddening boredom. I'm just gonna stop here before answering this any further ruins my day. Do you prefer slow songs or fast songs? Generally, more towards the fast side. Have you made any progress toward going after your dreams? Yeah, just teeny-tiny baby steps, sadly. What color is your trash can? Like, the big one you put on the side of the road for the dumpster? Dark green. What color is your dresser? Brown. Do you own a computer? If yes, is it a desktop or laptop? Yeah; laptop. How old were you when you first got a cell phone? I dunno, maybe the start of middle school? Do you like pineapple on pizza? You are a certified psychopath if you think that tastes good. No. What medication or drug has given you the worst withdrawals? I'm not sure. I've been on waaaaaaay too goddamn many to remember.

[thugthe8]

Wait, He’s Flirting? | Soonhoon

College!Soonhoon | Word Count: 2.2k | Fluffy af

Anon asked: “Hi!! Could you do soonhoon as college students? Thanks a bunch xx”

Writing this was way too fun, I hope it’s okay! Fluffy college soonhoon is a good concept 10/10

Masterlist

Jihoon was okay with being more on the introverted side. He had a friend circle, he had schoolwork and music to keep him occupied, and his roommate Mingyu was extroverted enough for the both of them. Jihoon wasn’t lonely, he insisted.

“Hi!”

Jihoon jolts, snapping the lead of his mechanical pencil as he dates a new page in his notebook. He hates this required Fundamentals of Biology class, he hates the professor for always assigning projects that take way too long, and he hates that it’s his earliest class. It should be an unwritten rule that no university courses can start before 8 AM.

“I’m Soonyoung, you’re Jihoon right? I think we’re supposed to be partners for the next project.” The boy who had startled him was speaking far too quickly for Jihoon to process anything at this hour of the morning.

“Um, cool. I’m Jihoon. But you knew that.”

Soonyoung unleashes a blinding smile, and Jihoon feels like he’s been annihilated by a ray of sunlight.

“Yeah. Is your dorm okay for collaborating? I’m in a suite with 5 other guys and it’s kind of a disaster all the time…” he begins rambling about toothpaste and nunchucks. Jihoon can’t take this much energy so early in the morning.

“Yeah it’s cool. We can figure it out later, yeah?” Jihoon knows he’s being a little rude interrupting, but he didn’t have time to get coffee this morning. Besides, this Soonyoung guy doesn’t seem like he’s ever been unhappy in his life, so Jihoon probably didn’t hurt his feelings.

“Cool! I’ll get in touch with you later then. Bye, Ji!” Soonyoung beams at him again and leaves a dumbstruck Jihoon at his desk. No one has called him Ji since elementary school. It’s been a weird morning.

The only part of Jihoon’s schedule worse than Biology was lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Every person he knew on campus had some sort of class at 11:30, leaving Jihoon to fend for himself in the dining hall. He wouldn’t admit eating alone bothered him, but in a dining hall full of socializing people it felt awkward to sit in the corner on his own. Making friends is hard, though, and Jihoon decides he’d rather be lonely in the corner with his oranges than talk to a stranger.

But when he spots Soonyoung eating by himself too, he wonders if he should make a move and sit with him. Mingyu would be so proud of him if he actually talked to someone new, and Soonyoung was certainly too nice to reject him or anything. Jihoon resolves to be courageous. He’s got this.

Turns out he doesn’t got this, because he’s standing behind Soonyoung with his mouth open and nothing is coming out. It’s awkward.

It gets more awkward when Soonyoung actually notices him standing there.

“Hey, did you wanna sit with me?”

Wow, it sounded so easy for him to say that. Jihoon is salty that he wasn’t gifted with Soonyoung’s social skills.

“Um, if you don’t mind. We should probably get to, uh, know each other for our project. I guess,” Jihoon’s eyebrows furrow at his own lame reasoning.

“Good idea! I never have anyone to eat lunch with on these days anyways. Now we’re lunch buddies!!” Soonyoung says, all the while stacking his Oreos into a tower. Jihoon isn’t sure why he has so many Oreos or why Soonyoung is making such an intricate tower, but he doesn’t question it.

“What’s your major?”

“Engineering,” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “But I spend all my time dancing. I’d switch majors if I could, but I’m a little tied up.”

“Well you seem to be good at… tower-building?” Jihoon gestures to the Eiffel Oreo tower.

“I’m actually just terrible at sitting still. You should see me on caffeine, that’s a good one.”

“Are you telling me you’re actually that energetic during bio every morning? Like without coffee?”

“Yup!! But this one time time I drank three cups of black coffee by accident…”

Jihoon is amazed. He’s never held such a good conversation with a new friend before. There was no talk of the weather, no awkward silence, no desperation to think of a new topic for conversation. He tells Mingyu about his newest acquaintance.

“Oh my god, you actually made a friend… I’m so proud!!” Mingyu pretends to wipe away a tear.

“I’m not that anti-social, Mingyu.”

“Says the guy who skips parties to work on Garageband until 4 AM.”

“You only go to those parties because that Wonwoo guy goes to some of them. Oh, and Soonyoung is coming over tomorrow night for the project.”

“Wow, you’re moving fast there buddy, I’ll clear out so you two can have some fun,” Mingyu wiggles his eyebrows excessively. Jihoon rolls his eyes in exasperation.

Soonyoung comes over, and things are incredibly normal. He makes jokes, Jihoon laughs, and they get some work done. Things feel right with Soonyoung, Jihoon thinks. Weeks pass, and Soonyoung continues to crash Jihoon’s dorm despite their completion of the project. Jihoon learns about Soonyoung’s part-time job as a dance instructor, his fights with his parents about changing his major, and his weird obsession with Star Wars. Soonyoung, in turn, learns about Jihoon’s late night lyric writing sessions, his collection of Skitty plushies, and is pleased to discover how cute and soft Jihoon gets when he’s sleepy.

Mingyu walks in one day to find Jihoon in his rolling chair playing one of his songs off the computer, with Soonyoung resting his chin on top of Jihoon’s hair. It’s adorable, actually, and Mingyu is ready for the ship to sail.

“How are things going with Soonyoung?”

“Fine?”Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know what ‘things’ you’re referring to, though.”

“Come on, you guys flirt more than anyone I know, and I know a lot of people,” Mingyu gives him a knowing look.

“We don’t flirt, Mingyu. We’re friends.”

“Okay, fine. But he’s hot right?”

“I mean, I won’t argue with that. Objectively speaking.”

“Also you guys cuddle every week on movie night. And you wear his shirts because they’re big and you like it. And you talk like you’ve been married for years-”

“Okay! I get it, thank you,” Jihoon’s ears are red. “…wait do you actually think he’s flirting though-”

“Did you listen to anYTHINg I just said hyung? And he calls you Ji! No one does that, man. I think you guys are into each other. You gotta start noticing the signs man.”

Jihoon nods, resolving to start picking up on these things.

“Are you gonna eat your cherry?”

Soonyoung was treating Jihoon to ice cream sundaes at the campus dairy bar. He insisted on paying, and Jihoon felt guilty, but he refused to let a perfectly good cherry go to waste. Soonyoung picked up the cherry and held it above Jihoon.

“Open up!”

Jihoon flushed red as he let Soonyoung feed him. Ever since his talk with Mingyu, he started noticing. He noticed now how often Soonyoung would grab his hand to drag him somewhere but forget to let go, or when he’d smile widely and ruffle Jihoon’s hair. But it never seemed romantic, and Jihoon had no idea what to think anymore.

“I have a dance showcase in like, two weeks. It’s crunch time! But also my legs hurt,” Soonyoung stretched and yawned.

“Make sure you rest, Soonyoung. Your endless energy supply scares me, cause someday you’re gonna run out of steam and end up like me.”

“Like a zombie, you mean,” Soonyoung grins, and feeds Jihoon more of his ice cream. “Don’t you worry about me, Mr. Late-Night DJ. I’ll manage.”

“If you overwork yourself I’ll fight you,” Jihoon threatens, but he looks so soft with his hair in his face and sweatshirt three sizes too big.

“Okay Ji,” Soonyoung ruffles his hair affectionately.

The next movie night, Jihoon finds that he’s now very aware of Soonyoung’s every move. They’re tucked side by side on his bed like always with laptop playing Dr. Strange, but Jihoon can't stop thinking about how his arm is right up against Soonyoung’s. Tentatively, he leans his head on Soonyoung’s shoulder, just to test out the waters. Soonyoung glances down at him, and with a faint smile slides his arm around Jihoon’s shoulders. Jihoon has trouble remembering to breathe.

Jihoon knows Soonyoung’s showcase is coming up this week, but they haven’t talked about it much at all. Jihoon hadn’t really seen Soonyoung dance before other than a lot of Sistar choreography competitions in their dorm, but he knew Soonyoung had some serious talent beyond that of Touch My Body.

He drags Mingyu to the auditorium with him, in case he requires emotional support after what he’s about to see. Nothing, however, could have saved him from those leather pants.

Soonyoung dominates the stage like nothing Jihoon has ever seen. He can’t look away for a second, even if his blood boils with jealousy as he dances with Yuju, one of the prettiest girls on campus. Even Mingyu is amazed by Soonyoung’s dance skills, not to mention how good he looks in that red and black leather jacket.

After the showcase, Mingyu goes off and leaves Jihoon to wait outside the performance hall in the cold. Nearly everyone else has left the building when Soonyoung finally comes out, dance bag slung across his chest.

“That was amazing,” Jihoon walks up to him, happy to congratulate his friend.

Soonyoung stops dead in his tracks, staring at Jihoon with wide eyes.

Jihoon pauses, confused. “Um, what’s up?”

“You… you came. To watch me?”

“Of course I came,” Jihoon says incredulously.

They stare at each other, before Soonyoung swiftly steps forward and pulls Jihoon into a hug, tight and warm and emotional. Jihoon reaches his arms around his back gently as Soonyoung buries his face into Jihoon’s neck. They stay there for a bit, Soonyoung is warm, and Jihoon can hardly breathe.

“Thank you… for coming,” Soonyoung finally murmurs into Jihoon’s ear. He pulls back, and looks down at Jihoon intensely. “My parents… never really came to watch me dance growing up. So I- it means a lot that you came, Ji.” Soonyoung swallows and looks away.

Jihoon grabs Soonyoung’s hand, lacing their fingers together shyly.

“Let’s go home.” Jihoon gives his hand a little tug.

Jihoon falls asleep in Soonyoung’s arms that night.

“Oh my god, I’m so over my mom.”

“What’d she say?” Jihoon doesn’t look up from the track on his computer. Soonyoung is flopped on the bed, texting his parents.

“Still a big no no on switching majors. And they want to know why I don’t have a girlfriend yet, yikes.”

Jihoon’s heart sinks, but this is his chance to do some digging on Soonyoung’s flirting habits. Yes, Jihoon still has no idea what constitutes as flirting and what’s platonic, but he’s trying.

“Why don’t you ask out Yuju, you guys danced well together.”

“Nah, she’s too tall. I like the short ones,” Soonyoung says, flipping over onto his stomach.

“Okay, well… dark hair or light hair?”

“I like blondes.”

Jihoon barely stops himself from touching his own dyed blonde hair impulsively.

“You’d probably want to date a dancer though, right?”

Soonyoung sighs. “Honestly, I’ve kinda always been more into the singers. The musical ones.”

“Oh… well someone outgoing would probably be a good match for you too…”

“Actually, I like the ones that hole themselves up in their rooms until the early morning hours and don’t know how to function in social situations.”

Jihoon feels like he’s being toyed with, and he doesn’t like it. He turns his chair around and gets up, glaring at Soonyoung who’s already staring back at him.

“What are you doing Soonyoung?” Jihoon sighs in frustration.

Soonyoung stands up and walks towards Jihoon, in fact he doesn’t stop until Jihoon is trapped between the desk and his arms. He stares down at Jihoon, the same intense look on his face from the night after the dance showcase. Jihoon slowly meets his gaze.

And then they’re kissing, and it’s soft but intense and everything Jihoon didn’t know he needed. Soonyoung’s hands slide around his waist as Jihoon pulls him closer by his belt loops. There are fingers in hair, hands grabbing shirts, and heavy breaths when they pull apart.

“You’re so cute, Ji,” Soonyoung beams at Jihoon’s pink cheeks.

“Keep calling me cute and we won’t do that anymore.”

“You’re the boss,” Soonyoung throws his hands up in surrender before pulling Jihoon back in for more.

Jihoon is surprised that not much changes when he and Soonyoung begin dating. They hold hands more, and kiss, but their dynamic doesn’t change and Jihoon is happy about that.

“Wait, you really couldn’t tell when I was flirting with you?”

“Yes, we’ve established that I am terrible at romance, please drop it,” Jihoon says as they leave Biology. “We just got along so well that I thought we were weirdly destined to be great friends, or whatever. But then Mingyu said you were flirting and then I decided we should be boyfriends.”

“And yet, somehow I recall that I did all the flirting and made all the moves. I don’t think you’d recognize flirting if it hit you in the face.”

“Were you flirting when you took your shirt off that one time and threw it because that actually did hit me in the face.”

“Come one that- wait is this supposed to be you flirting right now? Are you flirting with me, Lee Jihoon?”

“Yes definitely.”

Soonyoung throws his arm around Jihoon’s shoulders and yanks him closer.

“You are terrible at this. But I love you anyways, Ji.”

“Love you too, Soon.”

Send me a request!!

[such-a-common-girl]

Professor Winchester (Dean Winchester x Reader AU) Chap. 1

Professor Winchester Masterlist

Word Count: 2,613

Professor!Dean Winchester x Reader AU

Summary: A few years after being accepted into your dream college, everything’s going well. Your grades are good, your social life is booming, all your assignments are easy...  Except for the damn essay that Professor Winchester assigned you. Based off this request.

Chapter Warnings : Language, alcohol usage, mentions of sex, mentions of student/teacher relationships

‘Similar to the effects of the mythical creature the basilisk, Medusa…”

You groan out as you sit at your kitchen table, your fingertips typing away at your laptop in an attempt to start the introduction paragraph of your research essay that’s due tonight. You tend to be a procrastinator, which never works well, and more often than not leaves you immensely stressed out.

You shake your head, deleting the first sentence all together before taking a long sip of coffee. Only three hours to get the essay done. Three hours until the deadline. Damn Professor Winchester for giving you such a challenging topic.

Normally, you love his class. He’s easily one of the most laid back, chilled out professors you’ve had throughout your three years at the University of Kansas. His love for Greek Mythology is unlike anything you’ve seen before. His lectures are nothing short of interesting, as he somehow manages to make even the most minuscule of things seem like the most amazing thing in the world. The tests are hard, but as long as you pay attention and take notes in class, you’ve always been fine.

Unfortunately for you, the subject of your essay that Professor Winchester had assigned you is something that you’ve yet to go over in the class, leaving you completely clueless.

“You’re still going at that thing?” Your roommate and also best friend, Nina, enters the kitchen as she walks past you.

“Yes,” You groan, twisting your body around in the chair to face her. “I just want to get it over with, but every time I even begin to write something, my mind goes blank. I can’t think of one single thing, which is fucking terrible because this damn paper is two hundred points. That’s almost as much as finals.”

“Why are you even taking Greek Mythology, anyways? That’s not even a requirement for your major. Don't tell me you’re becoming one of those students obsessed with Professor Winchester. ” 

“I needed another elective for the general education requirements and this one seemed the most interesting. It is, I wasn’t wrong, but it’s challenging.” You frown.

“Professor Hottie’s class isn’t so easy, huh?” Nina raises her eyebrows. “No wonder I see all those desperate students dropping out of his class after a few weeks.”

“He may be easy on the eyes, but his class is certainly no easy A.” You sigh. “Sadly.” 

There’s no denying that Professor Winchester is attractive. Beyond attractive. He was the talk of the freshman class whenever you had first gotten accepted into this university, almost every women (and some men) were so desperate to get into his class just to be around him, it was almost sad. More than half of them would drop it as soon as they realize how difficult it is, despite being told repeatedly by older students that his class was actually challenging.

You, on the other hand, aren't taking this class just because of the teacher. Sure, you’re attracted to the man. So is seemingly everyone else on campus. But, you know that there’s absolutely no way in hell that that would ever happen, and you’re not planning on pursuing your measly crush on Professor Winchester. You’re here to learn and get your degree so you can become a teacher, not so you can have a one-night stand with one of your professors and risk getting kicked out of university.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it, then.” Nina says, grabbing a bag of chips out of the cupboard. “If you want to go out later tonight after you finish, celebrate or something, let me know. I desperately need to get drunk.”

“Things not working out so well with Matt?” You ask as you begin to type some more, not necessarily paying attention to her but not wanting to be rude and dismiss her completely.

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “He’s getting attached. Friends with benefits is more complicated than I had expected. But anyways, I’m going to leave you alone now to wallow in your own problems. The last thing you need is to worry about mine, too.”

“I promise, as soon as I finish this stupid fucking essay, I will go out and get drunk with you and we can talk all night about your problems with Matt. Sound like a deal?” You grin at her.

“Deal.” She smiles, taking a bite of her Doritos. You take a deep breath and begin to write. At this point, you can’t strive for perfection anymore. The deadline is quickly approaching, and a mediocre paper would have to do.

A few hours later, your essay is completed (and very much half-assed) with only minutes to spare. A huge weight is lifted off your chest as you push the “submit” button online, relief spreading throughout your body. The stress is gone, and the readiness to go to a bar and get drunk is filling the void.

“Nina!” You yell out, shutting your laptop screen.

“Did you finish?” She yells back from her room, the high volume of the television almost drowning out her voice. Your neighbors probably hate you.

“Hell yeah I did!” You say enthusiastically. “Now let’s go get some drinks!”

-

“He’s just so clingy.” Nina sighs, taking another drink of her martini.

You’re currently sitting at a bar, one that is a few towns over since she didn’t want to take the chance of accidentally running into her boy-toy. The place is full and buzzing with people, which is normally not your scene, but you could deal with it tonight. The both of you needed this.

“I don’t do clingy. I am a no-strings attached kind of girl, he knows this. He knew what he was getting into.” She sighs. “I just don’t know what to do. The sex is too good to just drop him, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him to back off, you know? We were friends before all of this.”

“Can’t help ‘ya there, sister.” You swirl your drink with your straw. You’ve only had one drink, so you’re not nearly as tipsy as Nina is. “I’m about as clueless as it gets when it comes to guys.”

“But you’re so pretty!” Nina hiccups, giggling.

“Yeah, well, my mom kept me on a pretty tight leash growing up.” You admit. “She wanted me to go to some big-shot school, become a big business woman like she is. Kind of didn’t allow me to focus on anything except for my school. Unfortunately, her hopes and dreams for me were squashed the moment I chose to come to KU. I like it here, though. It’s nice. I don’t regret my decision.”

“She wouldn’t even let you have a boyfriend?” Nina’s jaw drops in shock.

“Nope.” You laugh. “I mean, I’ve been more adventurous since I came in here as an innocent, little freshman. I’m no virgin. But I’d definitely say that I have nowhere near as much experience as you.”

Nina giggles again, downing the rest of her drink. You do the same, not anywhere near as buzzed as you’d like to be. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a few men walking into the bar. You don’t bother giving them a second look, not giving much thought to it. Guys in a bar? Who would’ve thought!

“Holy shit, Y/N.” Nina’s eyes go wide, her gaze following the men who had walked in. “You’ll never believe who’s here.”

“Matt?” You give it your best guess. Who else could possibly be here that she’d be having such a reaction about?

“Professor Hottie, and his just as hot friends.” Nina ogles. You whip your head around, and sure enough, he’s sitting at the table behind you with a group of his friends. Some of them you recognize as other professors from the school, such as Professor Novak and Dr. Garth, and one of the other men you recognize as Professor Winchester’s brother, Sam. He had pictures of them together on his desk, which is the only reason you know that.

“We have to leave!” You begin to up. “I came here to get away from him and his absolutely terrible assignments. Seeing him is serving as a reminder that I probably am getting an F on it. Besides, it’s just weird being here with him, being in the same place while me and you are getting drunk. He’s my professor.”

“That he is.” Nina nods. “Your professor that’s looking you up and down right now.”

You look back over at them, and certainly enough, Nina is correct. He’s looking at you as if he’s trying to place your face, until a look of shock crosses his face. He waves slightly, his face becoming a little flustered.

“Hey, Y/N!” Professor Winchester calls out, his voice slurred a little bit. “What’re you doing here?”

You look over at Nina, panic obvious in your face. You know it’s entirely inappropriate to have a conversation in a place like this with your teacher, especially since the both of you have obviously had a bit to drink. Nina only smirks at you before lightly shoving you his way, whispering “go get some experience, tiger,” in your ear.

You blush at Nina’s words as you approach the table of men, all of them looking up at you.

“Hey, Professor.” You say awkwardly. “I’m just here celebrating finishing that essay you assigned us with my roommate. Girl’s night. You?”

“You can call me Dean, this ain’t class.” He laughs. “Guy’s night. I’ll be honest, wasn’t expecting to see you here. Thought we were far enough away from campus. Oh, guys, sorry, forgot to introduce you to Y/N, here. She’s my student in my honors college Greek Mythology class.”

“So you’re the smart girl that Dean here is always bragging about, huh?” Dean’s brother, Sam, smiles at you.

“I wouldn’t say bragging. She is one of my best students. The only one that ever puts any effort into her work. Most students don’t really give a damn about my class.” Dean snorts, taking a drink of the brown liquid that a waitress sat down on the table. You can tell he’s drunker than he looks, and you feel slightly uncomfortable intruding on their “guy’s night” like this.

“I think you might be slightly disappointed with my essay.” You admit. “Pretty half-assed.”

“S’alright. You gotta pretty ass, so it makes up for it.” Dean slurs, and your eyes widen. Did your professor just hit on you? In front of other professors? Sure, they’re his friends, but... He’s definitely drunk.

“Thanks?” You laugh. You know at this point, you should leave and not make this any more awkward than it needs to be. It’ll already be uncomfortable on Tuesday when you have to go to his class, since he just not-so-subtly flirted with you. But, as you start to leave, Dean’s mouth turns into a frown, motioning for you to come back. 

“Why not, right?” You grin, not sober enough to deny his offer at this point. You look back over to Nina, who’s already sitting at the bar again, chatting it up with some random blonde man.

“Yeah, why not.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“So, Y/N, what's your major?” Sam asks you, pulling up a chair. You gladly take a seat, your arm only inches away from Dean’s.

“Double majoring in Education and English. Believe it or not, I want to be an English teacher. The only reason I’m even taking Professor Winch- Dean’s class here is because I’m required to take one more elective and since my next year will be so jammed pack, this is the only time I have for it.” You admit. 

“Smart girl.” Professor Novak- or should you call him by his first name, too?- comments. “No wonder Dean likes you.”

“C’mon guys,” Dean puts his hands up in the air, glaring at him. “I never-”

He’s cut off by a waitress bringing another round of shots, setting them down on the table. You’ve decided this is where you’ll draw the line, not about to take shots with your goddamn history professor, no matter how attractive he looks right now. 

You turn your head, preparing to tell Dean bye. But, as some twist of fate, Dean has also turned his head to tell you something, making your lips accidentally brush each other. Instead of pulling away like you thought he might have, he begins to move his lips against yours. His lips taste like straight liquor. You freeze in shock, not knowing what to do. When he realizes you're not kissing back, he pulls away quickly, a look of guilt on his face. 

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sor-”

“I’ve actually got to go, I’ll see you on class on Tuesday, Professor.” You manage to stutter out. You can hear a mixture of “oh man, you’ve had too much to drink” and “nice one, professor smooth” coming from the men as you practically sprint away from the table.

You grab Nina’s arm as you walk out the door, already pulling out your phone to call an Uber. She’s giving you bewildered and confused looks, not understanding why you just ran out of there like that.

“What the hell happened back there?” She cocks her eyebrows. “You see a ghost or something?”

“He just… He was very drunk.” You squeak out. Obviously, you’re flattered. He’s a very attractive man, and if someone wouldn’t be affected by his blatant flirting, you would be surprised. But, you know that not only was he probably too drunk to know what he was saying. He’s your professor, he wouldn’t… Right?

“Very drunk as in he didn’t recognize you and tried to hook up with you, or very drunk as in he made a stupid comment and embarrassed you?”

“A mixture?” You shrug your shoulders, your cheeks still red. “He recognized me, alright. Then he said he’d excuse my shitty essay because I have a nice ass. I noped out of there the minute a round of shots came by.” You purposely leave out the kiss part. 

“Look at you!” Nina squeals, jumping around excitedly. “Getting hit on by the eye-candy of teachers! You have no idea how jealous all those girls who got turned down would be right now! I’ll admit, I’m even a little jealous!”

“He was drunk, he didn’t know what he was doing.” You groan. “Don’t tell anyone this, alright? I’m hoping that he won’t remember this. I don’t think that I’ll be able to look him in the eye if we both remember what just happened.”

“Why, though? Thinkin’ about how he would destroy that as-“

“Don’t finish that sentence.” You groan out, making her giggle. “He probably won’t remember, right?”

WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THIS SERIES? LET ME KNOW :)

[overlordofawesomeness]

Add x Ain [Shitty] HCs Not-so-Modern Modern HS AU AKA Shite I Came Up with a Friendo (4/5)

Part 1: The Adds

Part 2: The Ains

Part 3: Lusa x Mochi

Part 4: Esper x Arme

Part 5: Sia x MM

♠ Es and Arme ♠

- Es likes toying with people, especially the arrogant ones. Arme happens to be one of them except he’s the worst. It’s either people are too stupid not to realize that or they’re overlooking that trait of him because he’s so “perfect”. Either way, that makes him the perfect play toy for the sadist.

- Arme hates Es’ guts. He hates the smirks and shit-eating grins that Es gives him. Although the noodle boy literally doesn’t do anything to him, Es manages to annoy him. The only thing that’s stopping the Council President from clashing with the prankster is the fact that he doesn’t want to be associated with Es in any way. (Problem is, he’s not aware that Sia has already sold him to the noodle boy. Sia has his reasons, okay?)

- Es is a lowkey stalker. They’ve never really had any close encounter with each other since he prefers studying Arme from a distance. That’s not until he catches Arme alone in the Student Council Meeting Room. A confrontation happens. At first, Arme politely asks Es to leave him alone; Es refuses and tells him that he likes the President. It’s obviously not a sincere confession, and they’re both aware of it. It’s more like a declaration of war, a war whose victor has already been decided from the beginning.

- Arme refuses to yield. He’s not fazed by Es’ threats of exposing the dirty little secrets of the Ishmael Family. He strongly believes that Es has no hold on him. Well, that doesn’t last long. One day, Arme finds himself getting forcefully dragged into a toilet cubicle by the person he hates the most: Es. He tries to escape; but Es purrs into his ear, asking him about what will people think when they discover Arme sharing the same cubicle with someone. This has Arme thinking for a while without realizing that he’s given Es a chance to blackmail him.

- “Moan and they’ll find out how much of a dirty little kitty you are.” A handjob by Es and an Arme who’s trying so hard to suppress his moan so as to not attract any attention. Isn’t that picture perfect?

- “I have everything recorded,” is the thing Es always says as he shakes his phone in the air while it plays on Arme’s lewd face. Arme tries to protest; but in the end, Es gets whatever he wants from his toy. Sex? Nah. They never have sex. All he does is experiment with Arme. He has a list of kinks that he wants to try out and they go through that everyday after class. He wants to know what turns Arme on, his limits. He wants to hear him begging, seeing him in his lowest state. Tame him. Control him. Humiliate him. It’s an obsession; and he’s aware of that, although he’s not sure where it’s coming from.

- Arme? He’s surprised at the things that he’s discovering about himself. He realizes he doesn’t exactly dislike what Es does to him and makes him do such as having a vibrator up his ass the whole time he’s in class or have the noodle boy mark him everywhere underneath his uniform. It’s all against his principles. It’s wrong that he’s not doing anything to stop it, but he can’t make himself take an action to stop Es from harassing him. He doesn’t want to admit it, but the danger of being discovered while doing something sexual by other people turns him on. However, nothing turns him on more than when Es starts purring in his ear. And that fact makes him shudder whenever he thinks of it.

- It’s a secret, and Es knows how to keep that promise, but he’s not a fan of being too discreet. At least when it comes to Arme since it’s his way of establishing his authority over the perfect boy. This results to him making Arme wear a collar against his will. One with a pendant that has “Kitty” engraved into it. Arme doesn’t accept it, of course; but then again, he has no choice. People ask him about it; he says he’s made to wear one because it’s a dare. They fall for it though. Besides, they think it’s cute. Es thinks it’s cute as well.

- This goes on for who knows how long until it becomes part of their system, until they finally accept their roles in each other’s lives. Eventually, they start talking more, opening up to each other more and getting comfortable with each other more even though they have nothing alike. But, of course, they barely look each other in the eyes outside their secret world. What they have isn’t exactly healthy from the beginning, so they’re very much aware that even if they try to escalate it, nothing good will come out of it. This goes on until Arme takes off what keeps him bound to Es: his collar.

- No more threats. No more humiliation. No Es. Arme’s perfect life is back to normal. Or is it? Es finally leaves him alone, the noodle boy looking past him as if he doesn’t exist. It’s what he wants, but it feels as if he’s incomplete. He’s already grown a habit of adjusting the collar around his neck, so it takes him by surprise whenever he touches nothing of that leather accessory. And, in a way, he misses it. He misses Es. But he can’t bring himself to face him since he knows it’s like admitting that he wants to submit to the noodle boy.

- One day, Arme tries to talk to Es; but Es only gives him a confused look and says, “Do I know you? Oh, right. You’re the Council President. Have a nice day, President.” The toothpaste head is beyond shocked, of course. Esper has completely erased him out of his life. And that fact kills him inside. For the first time, he experiences loss.

- The change in Arme is quite obvious. Everyone can tell that the perfect boy is always irritable and grumpy most of the time. This isn’t the Arme that they know, but it’s the Arme that Es knows. A certain noodle boy watches him from afar with an ear-to-ear grin. Of course, this is all part of Es’ little mind game. There’s no way he’ll easily give up on Arme. After all, Arme is his obsession. This goes on for weeks until Arme finally confronts him when they’re all alone in the classroom and tells him to stop with the silly game. He painstakingly confesses what he really feels, that he longs for Es’ touches and that he wants to be his “Kitty” again. And guess what happens next? For the first time, a very hot, steamy and passionate sex takes place between the two in the classroom with Arme being fucked on the top of the teacher’s table. Well, it can’t be helped. After all, it’s been forever since they’ve spent time together.

- They try dating. Their relationship is a secret and may seem toxic; but they know for sure that they want each other as a companion even though they have no rational reason as to why. Do they like each other? They have no answer for that. Dates are spent in silence, but there’s solitude. No hand holding. No affectionate words. Just a wordless communication that can be seen through their eyes. Sex is a completely different topic though.

- Arme doesn’t wear the collar again; but he does wear something else: a matching ring with Es. So Es doesn’t really worry when admirers flirt with Arme because he is very much certain that the toothpaste head only belongs to him and him alone.

[murasaki-murasame]

The Empty Box and Zeroth Maria Reread: Volume 1

I’ve been waiting so damn long for this to get an official English release and it’s finally here. I’m not entirely sure yet if I’m gonna bother writing about each and every volume as they come out in English, but I figured it’d be interesting to revisit this series, since it’s been like four years since I read it. Hopefully it’s as good as I remember it being.

Technically I never read the final volume, and I honestly don’t remember much from the volumes I DID read, so a lot of this is probably going to feel fresh enough that it might be a bit inaccurate to call it a reread. But I’m just gonna call it a reread so people know that I’m not going into this blind, and that I might end up spoiling stuff from the later volumes.

Anyway, let’s get into this.

This was one of the first light novels I ever read, so I can’t help but feel weirdly nostalgic about this series. It’s going to be really fun to slowly re-experience it as it comes out in English, even if I might not bother writing about each volume. I’m still kinda amazed that this series even got an English release, especially since it’s already been over for several years, and has always been a bit of a cult classic series. But I’m still really happy to finally own an official English release of it.

To start things off, this is a really weird series. It’s kinda hard to even tell if it’s necessarily ‘good’ on an objective level, especially since I have a lot of nostalgia towards it. The actual story is really good, but the writing can be kinda . . . bland and repetitive. I don’t think this is a fault of the translators. In fact, as a translation it seems better than I expected. I think that the writing issues were just there from the start. It’s not terrible, but just kinda boring. It sort of clashes with the intense, psychological story going on. Anyone reading this has already read the book so I’m not gonna writing out a synopsis of it or anything, though.

Separate to all of that, there’s also the topic of the characters. This is where I really wish I had a better memory of the later volumes beyond just the broad strokes of their stories. It’s kinda hard to remember exactly where the character arcs and stuff go, but reading this first volume again made me remember that I’ve always quite liked the characters in this series. It’s kinda hard to explain why, though. The rest of the series delves really deep into at least some of them, but even this early on you can tell that a lot of these characters are kinda abnormal.

Even though Kazuki kinda beats the reader over the head with how normal he is, even this early on the overall story is making it clear that his obsession with normalcy is really abnormal, and that he’s willing to go to great lengths to preserve that normalcy. It starts off fairly benign here, but I remember that it becomes more and more of a big deal as the story goes on. I’m not entirely sure if I’d say that I like him as a character, but I don’t dislike him. At least in this volume he mostly exists just to be the person who the story happens to.

There’s not a whole lot to say about Haruaki, Kirino, and Daiya as characters in this volume, but they still work well as supporting characters. I’ve always had a soft spot for how casually vicious they can be toward each other. It’s a fun dynamic. I don’t remember if much of anything happens with Haruaki and Kirino as the series goes on, but I’m pretty sure that Daiya gets majorly important later on.

Maria as a character is definitely one of the best and most memorable parts of the series. She’s really great. I love how much her role and your perception of her shifts throughout this volume, even though her motives and personality stay largely the same.

The whole premise of this volume, and the main scene that sets it up, has been stuck in my mind ever since I first read it. It’s not super complicated or anything as an idea, but the image of the mysterious transfer student announcing to the protagonist that she plans on breaking him, and the psychological horror time loop that follows, has always been very memorable to me.

I kinda forgot just how much stuff happens in this volume. It’s not even very long as a book, but it still feels like a lot happens. Probably because there’s so many twists and turns and complete shifts in the dynamic of the story.

It’s hard to judge the mystery of this volume since I already knew the identity of the owner in advance, but I still think it’s handled really well as a mystery. The weakest part of it is probably just that if you exclude Kazuki and Maria, there’s only like four major characters who could be the owner, so there’s not really too many options. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of people just kinda meta-logic’d their way into guessing it correctly.

The story does a good job of throwing you off the trail and making you suspect Kirino, though. Even as someone who already knew the general answer to the mystery, I got genuinely confused at parts and thought that they really were talking about her instead of Mogi, even if Kirino still wasn’t the owner of the box. Obviously there’s a few big sections which are narrated by an undefined female character, and the way that they’re about Mogi when she used to be sociable and friendly makes you assume it’s Kirino, but there’s also stuff like the scene where Mogi stabs Kirino, and when Kazuki arrives at the scene the narration describes him as seeing ‘Kirino and someone that used to be Mogi’. The immediate assumption is that it’s talking about Mogi that way because she’s dead, but as you find out soon after, it was phrased that way because she stopped being Mogi once she succumbed to the endless repetition of her box and became a murderer.

Which is also an idea that’s presented in a really cool and disturbing way. It’s hard not to be really sympathetic toward her by the end, as you learn about what her wish was, and how she became stuck in this loop of loving someone in a way that could never truly be requited, but being unable to escape the loop without dying. Which slowly drives her insane, leading to the emotionless person we see in the main story.

Even though for most of the story you assume that the owner of the box is completely composed and in control of things, and that them being aware of the loop gives them the advantage, but I really like how that idea gets turned on it’s head as you see how Mogi being stuck in this loop and being aware of it the whole time was exactly what wore her down. The part where it shows her going to Haruaki for advice in each loop about how to deal with people she doesn’t want to see anymore, and him always jokingly suggest she just murder them, was a really good way to illustrate the concept of how even one of the random people in the loop can unwittingly torment the owner of the box.

In general, I really like the psychological horror vibe of this volume. Especially as you get further into the book and plot points like more and more people in the class slowly being ‘rejected’ come up.

Mogi’s whole part in this story is really depressing and messed up in it’s own way, but I also can’t help but feel bad for Maria during all of this. She’s just stuck trying to complete her mission and take control of the box, but she has no real idea how to do it and she winds up basically spending decades trying to find the owner. There’s also the fact that she has to actively make it so that she remembers each loop, and that if she slipped up and succumbed to despair, she’d just become another person looping forever and ever without knowing what’s happening. The whole plot point of how people in the loop manually make it so they keep their memories is kinda . . . vague and hard to wrap my head around, though. The most I can grasp is that it’s tied up in witnessing the car crash at the end of the loop, but I at least feel like Kazuki should have been involved in that more times than what we saw.

Although there’s also the whole part where we find out near the end that Mogi has the power to erase people’s memories once they find out about her identity as the owner, which I kinda forgot until just now for some reason. It helps clear up a lot of things, since it at least helps explain why it took Maria so long to successfully stop her. The fact that she did, but she just failed to stop her each time and wound up forgetting about her, goes a long way to explain it. Especially combined with Maria’s pacifistic nature.

Even though I like the weight it brings to the story, I definitely still feel that the number of loops in the story is slightly absurd. It’s hard to imagine the events of the story being spread out over such a long period of time. I mean, 27,756 days translates to about 76 years. It sorta strains my disbelief a bit. It’s not a huge deal. Mostly, it just makes it kinda weird to consider how spaced out the murders of everyone in the class must have been. Even though Mogi murdered the first person on the 10,000th loop, that still leaves like 50 years of time for her to kill the rest of her victims. Which makes them seem weirdly spread out.

Anyway, back onto the topic of Maria, she was really in an awful position, especially since she could only ever be a transfer student. She had to continually be reset back to when nobody in the class knew who she was [more or less], and so forming lasting bonds was impossible. Which is why I really like the scene at the end where you see how the first loop went, with her explaining to the class that for the sake of her own sanity she’s going to have to close herself off from everyone else, and even take on a fake name in order to truly embrace her role as an illusion. It makes me glad that, now that she’s broken out of the loop, she can actually be herself and make friends.

I also like how they bring up the whole ‘why not wish for infinite wishes’ concept by having that basically be what Maria’s entire existence is. That she’s effectively a box that can infinitely grant wishes. It’s a really neat idea. Especially combined with the whole point about how, since she can’t stop herself from still thinking that wishes can’t be granted so easily, her whole power basically doesn’t work right. I can’t remember if it’s that she ends up causing the person whose wish she grants to die, or if their wish just gets corrupted, but still.

In general I like the whole theme of wishes and their consequences, which is a pretty huge element of this series. I mean, this volume’s whole story is built upon Mogi’s wish to live without regrets, and how that ends up creating this unending time-loop because her wish can’t truly be fulfilled, at least as far as she knew, since she thought that the accident was going to kill her, and so anything that happened in her box would just be a meaningless, artificial afterlife of sorts.

I also quite like the idea of the Boxes as a concept. Mostly because it’s surprisingly unique to imagine a box as a wish-granting item. But it works really well, with how it sets up this whole idea of the box making up this artificial space based upon the person’s wish.

I don’t really have much to say about O as a character, mostly since I can’t really remember what we find out about them in later volumes, and they’re very mysterious and unexplained in this one.

There’s a lot that I haven’t really gone over deeply, like the whole theme of people acting the same way across the loops and how that can be both good and bad [in particular I still like the scene where Haruaki talks about how if he’s going to act the same in every loop, then it means that he’ll always believe in Kazuki and stand by him], but this is going on long enough and this whole post is messy and unorganized enough as it is, so I should probably stop here.

Again, I’m not entirely sure if I’ll bother making posts about the later volumes, but I still plan on buying and reading them as they come out. I still really do love this series, even if it’s kinda hard to articulate why.

Sadly I think I remember the second volume basically being the low point of the series, so that’ll be a bit disappointing, but we’ll see how I feel about it upon a reread.