#<- i keep forgetting that this tag exist man

[lmadsadness]

i legit have no idea what to draw other than shockwave and soundwave as cats

also, i borrowed stolen /j my friend's water markers just to draw this shit (it turned out well!!)

the screenshot is blurry, i know lol

[fishyartist]

Ripped and merging, control and hatered form an overruling Deity, A hateful entity.

[sableprince]

assorted NMS oc doodles backlog that i guess i forgot to post? i'm really bad at putting stuff in tags, like this comparatively more serious lore compilation post thing. haha. this trio is stupid.

slightly more serious teluya backstory WIP comic under the cut because it's less goofy

[perilegs]

what if i dont want toxic yaoi. what if i want toxic bara. ever think about that?

[neonhellscape]

Im not kidding, your magos biologis is the (catalyst) reason i am deciding to go on t and get top surgery

god im so with you on this one. good luck on your mission boss

[fgooooooo]

A lil bit of both

I'm typing up a storm in the tags

[ramonathinks]

tags: older reader x younger satoru gojo, squirting, slight overstimulation, oral (f), smut | gojo satoru

note: i actually don’t like this fr but lol

you’ve never had a real orgasm. not at all in your almost 33 years. no man has ever even almost got you there. but you didn’t know that, you thought you had one before. feeling a bit good and then the feeling disappeared. you were… satisfied maybe? but it was always like this with guys your age.

so you knew why it was different with satoru. but man, it was different. really different.

he was 6’7, had a pretty long and girthy cock between his legs and always had a goofy smile on his face. he was 25 and for some reason… he was interested in you, instead of the younger and presumably prettier girls in the office.

from the moment he transferred to your department, he was in your face and trying to get your attention. it was always something with him — picking up some coffee for you, walking you to your car, and flirting.

it was always something small… a whisper in the ear to praise you for the good job on your presentation or a hand on your lower back.

it was supposed to only be dinner. yet here you are, with him in your bed and his mouth on your cunt.

“you’re delicious.” he mutters, lapping at your folds, stretching your lips open so he can get every bit of wetness spilling out of you. he was avoiding your flit, getting closer and closer before he moved away to focus elsewhere. kissing the trail of wetness on your thighs or dipping his tongue back inside of you. your stomach clenched and you could feel more wetness spilling out and that’s when his lips met your clit — a tiny kiss before he rubbed his face into you and sucked hard enough to make your toes curl.

he can barely wait anymore, he climbs off the bed before removing the last layer of his clothing and rubbing his aching leaking cock against your folds. pushing in, you both moan.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his hips back and forth, inching himself in. he’s holding back, seeing your face twist between pain and pleasure.

“please i—” your brain is fuzzy and feels like mush, you can barely think. he’s so big and just from what’s inside, he’s close to digging you out.

“shhh… you don’t have to beg senpai. i’ll give it to you right now,” his face is still wet with your juices as he speaks and he releases a short moan feeling you around him. “feels so good already—” he says.

pulling himself al the way out just to slam back inside of you, before he slows down so you can feel every inch of him. speeding his pace so his tip can just almost touch a spot that you never had touched before… a spot you didn’t know existed, but knowing that he was close to something and feeling it .. did something to you

“sator—ahh!” your thighs are shaking and you feels big pressure in your insides that make you try to move him off of you. “i feel like ‘m going to…” he’s slamming into you with one hand on your clit as if he knows what you’re going to say.

a squirt of wetness flows as he keeps moving inside of you and you can see that wetness on his lower half but he doesn’t seem to mind it; his face is in pure bliss as he stares back into your eyes. he pushes on your stomach more, more wetness leaking onto your sheets. your eyes are rolled back but he grips your thighs and forces you to sit on top of him.

“can’t-”

“but you will, right… for me, senpai?” and it was something about him calling you senpai again that made you squirt more uncontrollably, splashing more than just a stream. he grabs your ass and grips it hard, pulling you up and down his cock. your insides tightened around him and you unconsciously rolled your hips a few times.

you could feel a wave of everything washing over you, his cock hitting a different part deep inside you, which made your back snap and you wrap your legs around him even more, cumming in his lap with a big moan; a mixture of both cream and squirt soaking his lap.

“i’ll make sure you never forget who made you cum this hard.” he kisses you, grabbing your jaw so that you can open your mouth before he spits in your mouth and you groan, sinking your nails into his back.

you wake up late, almost in the middle of the afternoon, wrapped in your sheets and satoru gone. you aren’t so surprised but you put your robe on and walk down the stairs.

you hear talking or a bit of arguing.

“listen kid, im not leaving my daughters with you. now tell me—” you freeze at the voice of your ex and you see a fuming satoru.

“no you listen—”

holding the robe even more tightly together, you walk towards the two men to make your presence known. “c’mon girls, there’s food on the table.” your daughters race to the kitchen.

“wait babe, i made that for us—” you shoot him a stare and satoru shuts his mouth.

“thanks for dropping them off, have a good day.” you shut the door and sigh. “why didn’t you wake me?”

“i tried but you were so worn out. i guess i overdone it…”

“you guess? i never came in my life and you…” you whispered, feeling dizzy thinking about last night.

“let’s get you something to eat.”

[mocharoni]

guess who's back from smelling candles and burying into blankets

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

view all comments

user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

view all comments

user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

view all comments

user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

view all comments

user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

view all comments

user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

view all comments

user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[nanabanonana]

there's something about finding out your ex is turning into a conservative trash heap that makes you sweat and feel like you dodged a fcking bullet

[matramancer]

pt. 2 | NARUMI GEN WITH A MITSURI! LIKE READER🌸

🌸Previously we focused a lot on Mitsuri! Reader’s background, now, I want to show her relationship to Gen in particular after becoming a platoon leader and drop some interactions with Kikoru!

part 1 | Masterlist

🌸Tags: narumi pining stage(?). oblivious Narumi, mutual pining, mutual admiration, friends to lovers but not yet question mark, loser narumi, OBAMITSU NARUMI AND READER!!!

Well into your time in the First Division, you’ve established a rather interesting sense of partnership with Narumi Gen.

At first, the two of you were still quite stiff, what with how it seemed like you and Narumi were just too different in terms of personality.

One was a lousy trash man–brash, childish and stuck to his handheld when he wasn’t on the field, and while the other was a happy go lucky, passionate girl who grew to be well loved for her demeanor, you were quite shy when it came to approaching him. After all, he IS your captain and the man on top of the Defense Force. You had a great deal of respect for him even before you joined arms. In fact, striving to be worthy to stand with him–to be stronger, was the collective ambition of every officer there.

After finally earning his acknowledgement, you ended up spending more and more time with him. Since you caught his eye with your strength. then you’ll have to keep honing it if you were to prove your existence. So you trained and trained, kept your limbs stretched, made sure your flexibility and agility always stayed fresh in your blood. Turn it into second nature. 

And whenever the captain threw his hand in and actually showed up for a couple of rounds to spar you, you gave it your all. It became clear that he in particular took part in stoking your flames with his principle. To show results.

With that in mind, you’ve been building blocks since the very beginning, he notes one day, rummaging through your files and every assessment result.

Your shooting range assessments during your time as a rookie. Physical check ups. Combat training. Laps. They were above average–it’s what landed you in the First Division in the first place.

But what made you shine was your insane physical prowess, and how superhuman you were with transferring your power to the weapon you held.

Your terrain practice and obstacle shooting course held the highest rookie records. Your field reports never lied, there was even drone footage. Then there was the daikaiju incident, where you wielded an entire machine gun and amassed such a formidable blast upon first use, the numbers were too overwhelming for a rookie.

He remembers another report he got after your health assessment. They had studied the composition of your muscles, your combat levels, and more. Gotten real up and personal with you, so much so that you noted the experience while looking away. 

He’ll never forget Isao’s words after Hasegawa recounted their discoveries in his office. Your extreme constitution, your rapidly increasing combat power, your leap in abilities as soon as you donned on your suit. Your power.

“Another prodigy right after Ashiro Mina.” Narumi paused as Isao turned to face the both them. “The next piece of the puzzle for the Defense Force.”

If Mina was the missing link to fight daikaiju–humanity’s biggest threat at the time, then you were second just to her to complete the frontlines. Another sleeping tiger.

Isao himself gave him and Hasegawa an order. One that drove home the responsibility he had as your captain now. “Hone her strength. A girl with her potential belongs in our main defenses.”

He made you sound all cool and all, but as soon as Narumi made his way to the training hall, he was flabbergasted as you held a comically long photostrip filled with the pictures of the cats you had back at home, gushing over them with several of your platoon members.

“I love Nekotarou, General Whiskers the 2nd, and Meowy Antoinette soooo much!” Were those the names of your cats? He wonders. “I’m going to spend my life savings on building a shrine in their image near Yokohama Station.“ Impossible.

Hearing that gave Narumi whiplash. Right, the daikaiju prodigy that even Mr. Isao acknowledged…

So there you were one day, nervously looking down at a serious private meeting with your Captain and Vice Captain. “You know, Mr. Isao went over some of your assessments some time ago.” Your heart immediately dropped, your shocked expression instantly showing on your face.

“DIRECTOR GENERAL SHINOMIYA?!?!?!?!” Narumi watched as you, noting how you were akin to watching a hamster get scared by loud noise.

You quickly regain your composure (though you still looked comedically nervous in Narumi’s peering eyes) as he read out your achievements. You’ve already proved yourself well, with a high performance level that was brimming with potential.

But most notably, it was your high physical prowess and how superhuman you were with transferring your power to the weapon you held. That was what made you a force to be reckoned with,

“So, with that in mind–” Hasegawa stood up, followed by Narumi. “As a newly appointed platoon leader with one of the strongest, most unique combat power readings we’ve had in the force, we will start work on your special weapon.”

“...” You stare at the two of them. Narumi stares back. Hasegawa paces his sight between the two of you. Then, the words processed in your head, and you let out the biggest beamful smile they’ve set their eyes on. “THANK–THANK YOU SO MUCH!” you stifled a few tears, following them like a duckling to meet with Izumo Tech.

And after a long testing period, you were bestowed with what the people at the weaponries department could only describe as a weapon as unique as its user. Your whip-sword.

With how unique your weapon was, it was imperative for you to train twice as hard–learning the ropes and making sure your new fighting style was worth all the effort. Your pride as an officer–a bearer of a special weapon relied on this. That was when Narumi rolled in, and when he wanted to test your strength himself, you eagerly accepted. Unexpectedly, it turned into a new tradition between the two of you.

Around this time was the turning point of how you slowly broke out of just simple subordination to him, and towards a strange yet delightful symbiotic relationship, one where you didn’t just acknowledge each other’s strengths, but learned more about the person behind them. He started talking to you more once you asked him excitedly about what games he plays, and he started to eat the meals you brought.

Truth to be told, your journey only became more arduous then. You were strong, sure, but you still couldn’t hold a candle to Narumi. And it only spurred you on further.

A particularly remarkable moment between the two of you was the first time you really voiced your compliments to him outloud (to Hasegawa’s dismay…)

It was when he beat you in hand to hand combat one day, and perhaps something felt different with how you were pushing your blood circulation and heart beat to the limit, but it was super clear that he really went all out that day. And he was admirable. “You’re amazing, Captain!” 

“Of course,” he was to reply to you instinctively, but the sheer look of admiration you had sprawled on your face despite getting floored took him by surprise. You were always holding back a little around him–though he knew from word of mouth that you really were a very excitable person–so to see this other side of you was still pretty new for him. He just soaks in your words as you continue.

“Your form is amazing, how long did it take you to perfect it?” “I need to up my precision too. Yours is so remarkable.” “Please let me spar with you more!”

Perhaps you let your mouth run a little too loose by then. “I hope to one day earn my place next to you, Narumi–” You stop. Narumi stops. Then, your hands fly to your mouth as you let out a choked sound of what seemed to be your life regrets. “--I’m sorry!!!” Your forehead had already hit the floor multiple times before he registered your apology, seeing you fret over thinking that you overstepped a line.

But things are okay. You’re good friends now. He’s confident with that. He’s seen all 2760 of the pictures in your “my cats❤️❤️” album on your phone. He has all your favorite foods memorized. He knows the best ways to bait you.

He also had a huge ego boost when you showed up one day with the ends of your hair dyed a new color, following the long tradition of the 1st Division platoon leaders.

Has been scolded once or twice by Hasegawa for making you stay up late helping him farm dungeons on his BS5. When Narumi rebutted that he was your captain and that this was “an important mission”, Hasegawa promptly shot him down by stating that it was abuse of power.

He was actually the first person you showcased your new fighting style with your whip-sword to. Still couldn’t believe that you actually named it after your cats.

When the time came for you to use your new weapon on the field for the first time, you felt a bit more pressured than you should. Despite the fruitful results from in house training, the field is a very different environment, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. This test drive meant a lot–developing your weapon probably took a fortune–and you didn’t want to disappoint Narumi. He spent so much time with you. For you.

You move towards the approaching Yoju with total concentration, launching yourself in the air. “MTS-1437 field test commenced. Initiate subjugation,” Kurusu announced through the comms whilst giving you clearance, the operations room watching expectantly.  

To say it was a success was an understatement. Not when the entire operation room seemed to look at your floating figure in awe, your sword gracefully twirling around your body. You looked as light as the wind, so graceful and elegant as you zeroed in on the yoju, before unleashing an onslaught of the techniques you spent so much practice on. Seeing you with your sword dance didn’t just fit your entire being amazingly – It felt so right.

Inside of him, Narumi felt a sense of achievement, watching you from the operations room as well. 

“...Did she just say Catlove Shower?” He tensed, coughing a bit. 

His memories bring him back to the specialized training room the both of you frequented, when you had eagerly just showed him your techniques. He remembers how gleefully you smiled, how your eyes turned into half moons from how elated you were after he gave you his approval. It was just a “good job” he thought, but it must have meant the world for you. Your place in the force must have meant the world for you. Something in his heart started to tug.

Before he realized it himself, a snide remark came out of his throat. “She was really happy with the names she thought up–so shut it.” Everyone near his vicinity tensed, looking at him in shock. No one expected him to comment that, not even Hasegawa.

As mentioned in the previous headcanons, you and Narumi have grown accustomed to each other’s fighting style. As you also worked with the combo of gunmanship to melee–though not exactly similar, you had turned to him for a lot of pointers. Not only that, but the joint weapon training you underwent with him contributed a lot to both of your understandings of how the other fought. So, it was no surprise that your battle sense became more reminiscent of his.

Narumi only let you join his side as soon as he knew he didn’t have to worry about you. As much as he valued you as a person and the friendship you had, he knew that the laws of the battlefield were strict. He couldn’t trust himself if he couldn’t trust you to handle your own. Especially when the 1st Division handled the toughest of kaijus.

His tough love and constant, merciless training made you stronger. And truthfully, seeing you advancing so rapidly in his eyes scared him a bit (was this what Isao felt?). So he was immensely tough on you. You had to be strong.

But when it came to Narumi and your beloved 1st Division officers, you quickly reminded them of the you behind your strength. The (Y/N) that smiled and earned herself the title of the Pillar of Love, the pink creature that made up the most unlikely duo on planet Earth with Narumi Gen.

It’s the mutual understanding and respect you have with each other that brought your bond both in and out of the battlefield this far.

So when Kikoru rolled in, she couldn’t help but admire you. At the time of her transfer, you were a name she’s heard whispers about. The 1st Division’s pillar of love. An expert heavy hitter who excels in mid ranged combat. Exactly someone she could confide in in improving her techniques with the axe.

And Gen used this to his advantage.

“Oi, Narumi.” He winces in pain as you whack the top of his head in place of Hasegawa, letting out a string of complaints. “As much as I love Kikoru-chan, I don’t think General Shinomiya would appreciate it if you threw all the training to me.”

“I told you, it’s our dual responsibility,” he says in between button mashing his console, “I gave you the order to help teach her the ropes. You have a similar combat style with hers.”

“I trained with you, and you’re training with her. Which means I’m training with–” cutting off his speech, you brazenly pick up his lawn chair, balancing the captain as you carried the seat to the training grounds. You made it look so easy.

“My apologies, captain!” Kikoru watches in stunned silence as you haul him over to where the two of you were previously sparring, dropping him on the ground gently whilst listening to his childish rebuttals.

The blonde only watched as Narumi rose from his seat and yelled out more curses in an annoyed frenzy, now chasing you in circles as you held his handheld controller. You were expertly dodging him too, maneuvering the strikes he made with his hands and feet. Yet it despite the showcase of skill, it all felt too goofy to be real.

Was that… really the strongest kaiju combatant in Japan and the famed love pillar?

“GIVE THAT BACK!” Narumi yells, reenacting a forward strike so cleanly, it had Isao written all over it. He narrowly misses your body mid jump.

“MY APOLOGIES!” Your apologetic tone could not be more contrasting than your actions as your legs landed on his head, pummeling Narumi to the ground for your landing.

At this point, even Kafka was watching with his jaw on the floor, Kikoru beside him watching intently. “Even in a light quarrel, those two are masters in their field! But still…” She zeroes in on the tug of war for Narumi’s console between the two of you.

…Could she really trust the two of you during her time here?

--

A/n: Part three with wingman Kikoru question mark?

[jacevelaryonswife]

Hiding all of our sins from the daylight | Part Two

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

summary: Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw the prince that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.

word count: 3.191

tags: slight angst and adult themes

masterlist — previous part

A bond germinated between the prince and you as the days went by. There was no sin in your conversations, but a servant could never be friends with a nobleman, and above all: a woman could never be friends with a man. Although you believed that the existing dynamics with Jacaerys Velaryon did not fit into any of the previous options. It was your duty to be available to the prince of Dragonstone for what he wanted, and at the time, he needed a thoughtful listener.

"I don't want to fill my mother's head with my worries, even though I know she would listen. She is the queen and we are at war, it’s not time for this," was his justification.

The trust between you has developed slowly.

How are you feeling? Do you want to say something? Do you need anything?

It was the questions that guided the days following the incident with the wine. Over time, the prince began to report his dissatisfaction with the black council, either because of the way the queen didn’t let him act or how the other lords did not respect her enough.

"I just want to be useful for her cause, but she sees me as an incapable little boy," he shouted one of the times that the queen did not allow him to guard with Vermax.

"The queen cares about your safety, my prince. She suffers enough from the death of Prince Lucerys, she doesn't want to risk your life.”

“I'm not going to die!”

"You can't guarantee that, my prince."

And despite sometimes regretting not being formal enough in your answers, the prince showed satisfaction in the sincerity of your words more than once. Obviously no mention of your conversations with him was made for the other girls, you found it too dangerous.

And if there was anything beneficial for you, it was the opening that Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir gave so that your thoughts and feelings were also exposed. Superficial at first, experimental, but that became more intimate over the weeks.

"I try to keep myself constantly busy to ease my concerns about the war, but it's not working as I would like. Every night before bed I think about the worst,” you confessed a day after dinner, during the hour of the bat.

“Me too.”

The conversations became routine during breakfast while you cleaned his chambers and after dinner when you helped him sleep. Secretly, those were your favorite moments throughout the day, although you didn't want to admit it for a while.

The only problem with intimacy was to make you forget your place.

Sometimes, almost, an unweighted response was almost directed to the prince. Other times the physical comfort seemed to extrapolate while you smoothed his dark curls, although he did not manifest discomfort. He never did, actually. Maybe that influenced your behavior around him, especially when he began to reciprocate the attempt of comfort, touching your hand with nothing but respect and delicacy, although firm enough to be felt while you confessed your fears to him.

It was dangerous to allow such closeness to the prince.

You were no stranger to the stories of servants who fell in love with their lords, reciprocated or platonic, it was not something you sought to fantasize, promising yourself that you would immediately move away in the first different twinge in your heart. Although, dealing with feelings was not that simple.

That night, the prince was enthusiastic about the diplomatic experience with the Freys, telling every detail of the conversation accurately. He seemed quite proud to be useful, even the frown present in his feature in the last few days had disappeared.

“When I was a child, Viserys told me the Iron Throne would be mine one day,” Jace commented with a rare smile these days.

"He told?" You asked, knowing very well that it was true.

"A long time ago, before his health got worse, I think I was six years old," he replied on the other side of the table, keeping his smile open.

"Have you ever imagined yourself there?" A silly question, you thought.

“Sometimes, especially before war. Now I feel like I'm cheating on my mother,” his face hardened softly as he looked down.

"You are the heir of the Queen, it is not wrong to imagine your future," you tried to comfort him with the obviousness of the situation, although you understood what was going on in the prince's head and heart.

“I know, but just seems wrong,” he countered, looking at you. “How about you?”

“Me?”

"Have you never imagined yourself being the Queen?"

That made you chuckle. "There is a barrier that people like me should not overcome, even in thoughts," you almost laughing at him.

"Please, everyone has thought about sitting on the iron throne," he leaned totally against the chair, watching you with frowning eyebrows and a smile on his lips. as he totally leaned against the chair.

"I never thought such a absurd," you reinforced.

"I doubt it, have you never thought about being a noblewoman?"

"Of course I thought! I would be pleased to be the ugly daughter that no lord wants to marry, so I could enjoy my position without having only my side a decrepit old man as lord husband. But the Queen? I've never dared so much."

He laughed loudly and his eyes almost closed. "Well, I think it's a good plan, but I believe you would be a fine Queen."

That took you by surprise.

The absurdity of the statement made your eyes widen and your cheeks warm up. "And you will be a fine King," you replied with a giggle, doing little of what he had said - even you believed faithfully in your own statement.

Suddenly, you felt his gaze endure on yours in a different, more intense way, as if... he was seeing you, totally seeing you.

And that made your heart warm.

No, no!

“I must go, my prince. It's late,” you stood up immediately. "Do you need anything?"

He took a while to respond, shaking his head negatively. "N-no, I don't," getting up to accompany you to the door. "Listen, I- I have to say something to you."

Your heart was beating faster than usual and continuing in the presence of the prince did not improve the situation. You didn't know why you felt so suddenly affected, but you imagined that it was the ideal time to reassess the proximity to him.

“I would like to thank you for the support in these weeks, for listening to me,” he said.

"You don't have to thank me, my prince, it's my duty," you exhibited a restrained smile, holding your hands in front of your body.

“I know it's just-“

The previous look that made your heart warm returned, however, more nervous, afraid as he approached you. His hands held your face gently, not giving you time to move away before he leaned over to touch your lips. You froze in place, not being able to move a single member, even after the prince had moved away with terror in his eyes.

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't want to disrespect you, I promise," he said in despair, faster than he intended. "This is not going to happen again, I-

"It won't," you said, heart almost coming out of the chest, "We can't do that, Jace, I'm your servant- that-"

"It was my fault, I'm the one who has to beg for your forgiveness, I dishonored you," he almost spoke too loudly, almost.

"You didn't dishonor me!" You exclaimed as if it were obvious. "But that can't happen again. You are the heir to the iron throne and I am just a servant of low birth, there is no hope for us," your voice almost failed.

When Jace's eyes found the ground, his posture changed, the nervousness turned into something you didn't know how to identify, even though your own anguish was still very vivid while your heart beat fast.

"It's unfair," was all he said when he looked at you again.

“Indeed.”

A squeeze formed in your chest every second that your eyes remained connected, along with a restlessness that you did not know resided in your body until now. No, no, no...

In a bold attitude, you held his hands, uncertain of what to say, uncertain of what to do and uncertain of what you felt for him. It wasn't possible. Nothing, not a single word came out of your mouth while your heart beat faster and faster.

You shouldn't, you knew that, but maybe... maybe...

It was your turn to approach him, cautiously, absorbed in the brown of his iris and the way he mirrored your look.

There was no hurry to meet your lips this time, nor does it take long to be reciprocated. It was the kind of affection that women should have only with their lords husbands in the intimacy of their chambers, not with the prince of the kingdom whom you served and could harm yourself if you were caught.

But it seemed so right.

Your heart pumped soft fire through your body as the kiss gained layers, encouraging you to intertwine your fingers with his. It was not lascivious or obscene, but it involved your body during the act and made you float in the sweetness of his lips before it came to an end mutually.

Your hand slid to the side of his flushed face, smoothing his cheek gently. Even though part of your mind dealt with the turbulence of the situation, the other was delighted with the fullness of serenity.

"I've never been with a woman," he murmured about your touch, reluctantly. "I never wanted to ruin a woman outside of marriage."

Oh. That took you by surprise.

In fact, that brought you to reality again, but without the previous panic.

"You did it right," you comforted him with a restrained smile, feeling nervous. "There is no shame in that."

"I know, but I don't feel secure thinking about it."

Honestly, you didn't know what to say, but you knew that that situation could take a dangerous turn if it were prolonged. He could not consider such an act even for a second, so you just said goodbye to him immediately.

"It's late, you should rest, my prince."

The storm in his eyes almost snatched you together, but there was still prudence in your mind. There was no dispute on his part, allowing you to be involved by the coldness of the corridors until your rooms shared with the other servants. Although sleep wrapped around your body quickly, the prince stole your dreams with memories of what had happened.

When the nightingale time came, his image seemed almost palpable to your eyes. All you could remember were the lips of the princes against yours, the proximity, the softness of his hand, the way he looked at you.

It was dangerous.

All that was dangerous.

Especially for you. Nurturing an additional affection for the prince of the kingdom was a path of no return for ordinary people. There was no hope for you. There was no future between you. He would marry a lady of a important family and have little princes while you would perform your duty serving the next royal generations.

Even if you were willing to forget what happened, when you saw Jace that morning you knew that your relationship would never be the same.

"Good morning, my prince," was all you said when you entered his chambers.

Judging by the way the prince's gaze found yours, you believed he thought the same. “Good morning,” he replied in front of the window.

You left the breakfast on the table and went to organize the luxurious bed - unkneading the sheets and squeezing the pillows without looking at him while doing your work. Even though it was a rational attitude, the smell that emanated from the fabric transported you directly to last night, to the warmth of his lips, to the comfort of your hands and to the soft fire that warmed your veins.

Suddenly, you found yourself wanting more.

The subtle spark quickly turned into a fire, making you want to dive into bed and be surrounded by his smell, wanting to be kissed again in a sweet way, wanting his body pressed above your...

Wanting to make love to him.

Seven hells. No, it couldn't be.

The realization of the fact clouded your mind.

You felt nothing but the burning between your thighs, not even the repetitive call of your name by the prince. You wanted it, you wanted it, you wanted it.

You shouldn't, you shouldn't, you shouldn't.

In all these years you have performed your duty to the kingdom without any ambitions. Now, you believe you deserve enjoying a great pleasure and a great sin.

That's when the hand on your shoulder along with a call brought you back to reality.

"Are you okay?" The prince asked behind you.

There was nowhere to escape. And honestly, you didn't want to.

Taking him by surprise, you held both sides of his face and leaned over to capture his lips in a sweeping and demanding kiss, contrasting with the softness of the night before. Jace immediately corresponded, tying your waist and bringing your body closer to his. There was no fear in the way your lips moved or with the lack of distance between your bodies, on the contrary, you deepened the kiss and wrapped a hand behind his neck, breaking any space between you.

He reciprocated the vigor with the same intensity, savoring your lips as if they were the only thing that lacked him in life, almost pulling the air out of your lungs. You felt surrounded by the dragon fire and silently prayed to the Mother for your body to burn.

“I dreamed with you all night,” he whispered close to your lips, holding you close.

“Me too,” you slitted the apple from his cheek with your thumb. His lips were red, swollen, shiny and so tempting...

When you were about to lean again, knocks echoed from the door and made you jump back immediately, resuming your attention to the bed while the prince went to the breakfast table.

It was the Queen herself, talking to the prince of Dragonstone at the same time that you made a greeting to her.

“I wish to speak alone with prince Jacaerys.”

No other command was needed. With one last greeting, you left Jacaerys' chambers with a racing heart and trembling steps, as if walking on embers. The consequences of your actions would be disastrous if discovered, you were not foolish, but you couldn't help but want more. And can't you help but think about how that happened?

When did such a feeling arise and develop?

It was the questioning that guided your rest of the morning, the whole afternoon and the beginning of the evening. The duties kept him away from you, fueling concerns about a possible worsening for the queen's cause. Because of that, you decided to occupy yourself in the only way you knew: working.

You swept, cleaned, aired and washed until you were tired and coughing because of the dust.

At the end of the additional service, you went to the rooms shared with the other girls to clean yourself and be presentable to him, hoping to be able to see him during dinner.

It was insane, you knew that, but you couldn't help it. You wanted it, despite what it would imply.

And when thinking about what to enjoy with the prince would result, you realized something too serious to be ignored. What if you generated a bastard? Oh gods. Where were you with your head? How did you consider losing your maidenhead with a prince of the kingdom? It would be a scandal! You would be ruined! The queen would send you away, maybe to Essos at worst.

Nothing was effective to keep those thoughts away from your head, especially when you held his dinner with trembling hands. Everything got worse when he offered you a wide smile when entering his rooms, making you freeze briefly before walking to the table and greeting you with a reverence.

“Good evening, my prince,” you forced yourself to say.

“Good evening, my lady,” he replied humorously. "I missed you."

No, no, no.

You smiled insecure and looked down, unable to answer back.

“What's wrong?” He asked when he went to your meeting.

What should you say?

“I can't do that,” you chose to be brutally honest. "I can't get pregnant, I can't have a-" you couldn't say such a word, not in front of him, and you prayed that he wouldn't feel offended.

Unfortunately, his jaw closed and the posture hardened. Heavens.

"... a bastard?" He asked in a strangled voice. "I would never impute such a burden to you."

Your heart squeezed while remaining silent, too nervous to say anything. He seemed angry, creating a fear in your mind about the dragon's fury.

“And I would never dishonor you,” he added, holding your hands as his brown eyes warmed up. But that was Jacaerys, your prince and your friend who would never hurt you.

“I know,” you agreed with a nod and intertwined your fingers with his, being able to breathe relieved at last.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm fine," you assured him with a soft smile.

"Eat with me, I don't have a big appetite."

You knew how to identify an order when you heard it. Of all the sins done and thought of in the last hours, sharing the meal with a prince was not so excruciating.

Sitting in front of him, you took a piece of bread and soaked it in the mushroom broth, watching him drink a generous sip of mead. None of you said anything for a while, leaving the noise of the violent sea wind that crashed against the walls of the castle being the only sound so far.

"What are we going to do?" He just asked.

"I don't know," you replied sincerely. "I think we should go back our dynamics, we can't be more than we are," your voice was lower than usual.

“I like being with you,” he said.

“Me too, Jace, but there's no hope for us,” you held his hand. "This will only break our hearts."

Although painful, that was the only truth that existed. He would never be yours. He would never abandon his duty to the kingdom for you, the opposite was just daydreams and songs invented to make ordinary life less gray. You were and would continue to be a servant and Jacaerys Velaryon would be just a sweet memory of something that could never happen.

Because that was just the order of things.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @hxtd @fkanitta @ladyofvelaryon @llynx7 @briarrainsstuff @jhepolie @dani-says-stuff @vavafaure1994 @fallenangel161 @naive-daydreamer @uhnanix @yrcbhu5wdv

a note: I know it take a while, but I really put all my efforts in here!

[pencopanko]

Antisemitism and Islamophobia are very similar (if not the same), actually

So I was scrolling down the #palestine tag for any updates and important information, and I came across this:

And I think we need to sit down and talk about this.

I am a Muslim. I live in Indonesia, a country that is predominantly Muslim and a lot of Muslims here also support the Palestinian cause. Hell, even our government supports it by not only allowing Palestinian goods enter the country without fee, but also by taking in Palestinian refugees and even acknowledging the status of Palestine as a state while not having any political ties with Israel. The topic of the Palestinian tragedy has been spoon-fed to us at schools, sermons, media, etc., so your average Indonesian Muslim would at the very least be aware of the conflict while non-Muslims would hear about it from their Muslim friends or through media.

However, there is a glaring problem. One that I keep seeing way too often for my liking.

A lot of them are antisemitic as hell. The sermons I would hear sometimes demonize Jewish people. Antisemitic statements are openly said out loud on social media. Some are even Nazi supporters who would literally go to anime cons and COSPLAY as members of the Nazi party. This is not just an Indonesian Muslim problem, no, but this is a glaring issue within the global Islamic community as a whole. Today, this sense of antisemitism is usually rooted in general hatred towards the Israeli government and its actions against the people of Palestine, but antisemitism amongst Muslims are also rooted in certain interpretations of verses from the Qur'an and Hadith mentioning Jewish people and Judaism (particularly the Bani Israil), but in a way that is more ridiculing instead of life-threatening when compared to how antisemitism looks like in the Western world.

As someone who prefers to become a "bridge" between two sides in most cases, I find this situation to be concerning, to say the least. While, yes, it is important for us Muslims to support Palestine and fight against injustice, we must not forget that not every Jewish people support the Israeli government. A lot of them are even anti-Zionists who actively condemn Israel and even disagree with the existence of Israel as a state as it goes against their teachings. A lot of them are also Holocaust survivors or their descendants, so it is harmful to think for one second that Hitler's actions and policies were justified. It's just like saying that Netanyahu is right for his decision to destroy Palestine and commit war crime after war crime towards the Palestinians.

As Muslims, we also need to remember that Jewish people (the Yahudi) are considered ahli kitab, i.e. People Of The Book along with Christians (the Nasrani). The Islam I have come to know and love has no mentions of Allah allowing us to persecute them or anyone collectively for the actions of a few. While, yes, there are disagreements with our respective teachings I do not see that as an excuse to even use antisemitic slurs against Jewish people during a pro-Palestine rally, let alone support a man who was known for his acts of cruelty toward the Jewish community in WW2. They are still our siblings/cousins in faith, after all. Unless they have done active harm like stealing homes from civilians or celebrating the destruction of Palestine or supporting the Israeli government and the IOF or are members of the IOF, no Jewish people (and Christians, for that matter) must be harmed in our fight against Zionism.

Contemporary antisemitism is similar to (if not straight up being the exact same thing as) contemporary Islamophobia, if you think about it; due to the actions of a select few that has caused severe harm towards innocent people, an entire community has been a target of hate. Even when you have tried to call out the ones supporting such cruelties, you are still getting bombarded by hate speech. It's doubly worse if you're also simultaneously part of a marginalized group like BIPOC, LGBTQ+, etc. as you also get attacked on multiple sides. This is where we all need to self-reflect, practice empathy, and unlearn all of the antisemitism and unjustified hatred that we were exposed to.

So, do call out Zionism and Nazism when you see it. Call out the US government for funding this atrocity and others before it that had ALSO triggered the rise of Islamophobia. Call your reps. Go to the streets. Punch a fascist if you feel so inclined. Support your local businesses instead of pro-Israel companies.

But not at the cost of our Jewish siblings. Not at the cost of innocent Jewish people who may also be your allies. If you do that, you are no different from a MAGA cap-wearing, gun-tooting, slur-yelling Islamophobe.

That is all for now, may your watermelons taste fresh and sweet.

🍉

Salam Semangka, Penco

[runninriot]

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 10

Maybe

prompt: "Where were you?" | wc: 2180 | rated: M | cw: cheating | tags: established relationship, lovers to exes, heartbreak, break up, open ending with a tiny flicker of hope | also on ao3

When he hears the front door open, Steve turns to risk a glance at the clock on his bedside table, red numbers glowing too bright in the darkness of the room.

It’s way past midnight, too late for Eddie to come back from the meeting he was supposed to be caught up at.

    ‘I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be home late again. Don’t wait up for me.’

Eddie had called him to let him know he wouldn’t make it home in time for dinner – the third time in two weeks – said each time he’d make it up to him. That he would take Steve out to this one fancy restaurant where they celebrated their fifth anniversary two years ago, hasn’t made true to his promise yet.

Eddie’s been so distant lately, kind of stressed and on edge, acting weird around Steve.

It's like something has changed between them. Something just doesn’t feel right.

Steve misses Eddie’s closeness. Misses being scooped up in strong arms like Eddie used to do whenever he came home from work. Misses the kisses, the hugs, the cuddles, the ‘I love you’s. He misses the sex, the way Eddie used to be obsessed with him. How he worshipped him.

It all didn’t stop over night, they’ve been in a rut for months now.

And maybe that’s normal.

Maybe 7 years of being together have finally taken their toll on things like passion and desire. Maybe waking up to the same face every day does that, makes your love life dull or rather non-existent.

Maybe it’s Steve’s fault for letting himself go a little. For having gotten too comfortable in the mundanity of their day to day life. He’s gained a bit of weight over the years, hasn’t been to the gym or on a morning run in ages. He prefers to wear comfortable sweaters instead of skin-tight shirts, wears his hair shorter now because he couldn’t be bothered anymore to style it every day to keep it out of his face.

Steve hasn’t tried to spice things up like he used to in the beginning of their relationship, when they could barely keep their hands off each other and spent whole weekends in bed fucking, making out, forgetting the world around them.

Maybe it’s all Steve’s fault.

Maybe he is the reason why, for the third time in two weeks, Eddie comes home past midnight, careful not to wake Steve when he slides into bed, reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume that isn’t his.

That’s why he doesn’t notice that Steve is awake, can’t even be bothered to kiss him goodnight like he used to do.

That’s why he lies.

Lies about meetings and business dinners, uses them as weak alibis to hide where he’s truly been.

   “Where were you?” Steve turns around facing Eddie’s back.

He knows Eddie isn’t asleep yet, knows he heard him, so he counts the seconds until finally, Eddie turns to look at him.

   “Didn’t know you’re awake.”

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

He could leave it at that. Could press a stiff kiss on his partner’s lips that the other man wouldn’t return and pretend that everything’s fine.

Could just keep pretending that he doesn’t know that his boyfriend is cheating on him.

   “I asked you a question, Eddie. Where were you?”

Eddie huffs, seems angry and Steve can’t believe how unfair this is. If anything, Steve should be the one that’s angry. He should be furious. But instead, he’s doing his best to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

   “I told you, babe. I got caught up in this meeting and then the guys wanted to go for a few drinks after, that’s all.”

Steve almost believes him. Wants to believe that he’s telling the truth but he can feel in his heart that it’s a lie.

   “Do you still love me?”

It’s a question that has been burning inside him for a while now. Slowly eating away at his sanity because- what if not? What if Eddie fell in love with someone else? What if he met someone who can give him what Steve can’t? Someone younger, prettier, and more successful than him. Someone Steve can’t compete with because-

What does he have to offer, really, except his undying love?

The bedside lamp flickers to life and Eddie sits up so suddenly, that it startles Steve.

   “Steve, where is this coming from? You know I do!”

   “Can’t even say it,” Steve mumbles to himself as he pushes himself up to sit.

   “What?” Eddie asks, looking annoyed and confused.

   “I said. You can’t even say it!” Steve nearly shouts the words, doesn’t care how much his voice trembles, doesn’t care that Eddie can see the tears now running down his face.

He’s been keeping this in for too long; he can’t do it anymore. He can’t keep up the charade of them being this happy, loving couple when it’s so clear that they’re not anymore.

When he finally realises that everything has slowly been breaking apart under his disbelieving eyes – he could’ve put a stop to it before it was too late but instead, he chose to ignore it. Chose to believe in the lies he told himself, lies he wanted to believe because the truth seemed too unbearable.

Eddie tries to take his hand but Steve pulls away, wraps his arms around himself for what little comfort it gives.

   “Baby, please-“

   “Do not call me that. You have no right to call me that.”

Eddie sighs, rubbing his hands across his face and when he looks back up at Steve, he can see the truth he’s been dreading all this time in the other man’s eyes.

   “You’re right, I’m not. Steve, I- I am, fuck. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to happen. I- I don’t even know why I did it.”

The confession slices through Steve’s heart like a knife, tears him apart from the inside out. He can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t believe that his worst nightmare is now bitter reality.

But it is; Eddie just admitted to it. Doesn’t even try to lie his way out of it this time.

   “Do you love them?”

Steve doesn’t know why he’s asking. Does he really want to know the answer?

Maybe he needs it. Maybe he needs to hear Eddie say it out loud to make it real. To make him believe that it is.

   “No! I only love you.”

Steve scoffs, feels sick.

   “You’ve got a hell of a way showing that.”

   “I know! I know I’ve made a mistake but please believe me. I love you, Steve! Only you! I fucked up, I know that. But-“

No.

No, this isn’t right.

   “But what, Eddie? Fuck you! You cheated on me! You haven’t even kissed me in weeks but you went out there and fucked someone else?”

Steve’s voice cracks as he breaks down sobbing, hiding his face in his own hands.

This is it. It’s over.

Seven years of building a life together, of creating a beautiful home, seven years of happiness thrown away.

Just like that.

   “Stevie, baby,” Eddie’s voice is suddenly so much closer and before Steve can register what happens, he’s wrapped up in Eddie’s arms, pulling him against his chest.

He hates how good it feels. How his body sinks into the embrace out of sheer instinct. How he lets himself be held because that’s what he knows. For years, Eddie has been his anchor, his whole goddamn world. And although he knows he should fight it, he can’t help but sling his arms around the man he loves. Still, even after what he did.

   “I’m so, so sorry, Steve. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, baby. I love with all my heart and I know I’ve fucked up big time. It wasn’t even- I didn’t-“

Steve can hear in his voice that he’s crying, too. But he can’t bring himself to look up, can barely focus on his own grieving heart and the muffled sound of Eddie’s voice.

   “I was drunk when it happened the first time and I know that’s no excuse. I know that! And it doesn’t justify that I went back. That I- that I hurt you. You deserve better, Stevie. You deserve the whole fucking world and I-“

   “I only wanted you, Eddie. That’s all I needed.”

Finally, Steve finds the strength to peel himself out of Eddie’s arms.

   “Why? Why did you do it? Am I not enough for you?”

Eddie takes a staggering breath and it pains Steve to see him like that – hurt and defeated, regret written all over his tear-streaked face.

It hurts so fucking much because all he ever wanted was to make Eddie happy.

But he failed. He failed to love Eddie the way he needs to be loved or else he wouldn’t have had searched for pleasure somewhere else, right?

   “You are everything, Steve. This is my fault, not yours. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Somehow, that makes it even worse.

   “I was stupid. So fucking stupid. And I’ll do everything I can to make it right.”

One month later

Breaking up with Eddie had been the hardest decision he’s ever had to make. But Steve knew if he stayed, he’d only hurt himself. That he’d give himself up trying to mend what’s been broken, that he’d drown in self-doubts and misery trying to pretend that everything could be right again.

And maybe Eddie knew it, too, deep down.

It’s not like Eddie didn’t put up a fight, he did. Tried to talk Steve into staying, begged on his knees for another chance. But eventually, he let him go. Gave him one last kiss goodbye, one last hug, one more moment of familiarity before Steve’s world changed and everything he’d known for seven years suddenly turned into a scary, unknown future he’d have to face on his own.

It still hurts. Especially when Steve comes home to an empty apartment after work, knowing that no one will be there to fall asleep next to at night. This is probably the hardest part of it all, lying in an empty bed without the comfort of Eddie’s body to cuddle up next to.

But it’s for the best.

He knows it is, even if he still wishes Eddie was there, here, with him.

Steve manages, gets by. He found a nice little apartment, tries to keep himself distracted with work, has picked up on hobbies he’d given up years ago.

Life is... okay. Not good. Not how it used to be because there’s always something missing.

There’s always this void, this empty space where Eddie used to be. On quiet Sunday mornings when the smell of coffee fills the kitchen but Steve’s mug is the only one on the table. Or when their favourite songs play on the radio and Steve’s voice is the only one singing along.

It’s lonely without Eddie.

Lonely without the man that still, after everything, is the one that holds his heart.

When Steve comes home after work, two bags of groceries in one hand, fumbling for the key with his other, he’s stopped in his tracks at the sight that greets him in front of his apartment door.

There’s a bouquet of flowers waiting for him. Pink peonies and yellow roses – and it shouldn’t surprise him anymore because it’s been like this for every single day for three weeks but it still makes him smile like it’s the first time.

Steve drops the bags to pick up the flowers and look for the card he knows is there.

    Hope you had a good day.

    I love you.

    E.

The messages vary but it always ends with the words Steve so desperately wanted to hear him say before their world broke apart. And although Steve hasn’t forgotten what he did, he appreciates Eddie’s stubbornness. His willingness to try.

These sweet little gestures are as heart-warming as they are painful. Because it reminds Steve every day of how much he misses him. Misses Eddie’s laughter and his hugs, his kisses and the warmth of his eyes. Misses the sound of Eddie’s voice when he called him baby, despite everything.

Because he loves him.

Still.

And it makes him wonder if maybe, when the time is right and the pain has soothed enough to talk about it, maybe they can dare to work it out?

Start from the beginning, on Steve’s terms.

Give their love a second chance because-

No matter how stupid it sounds, his heart tells him it’s worth another try.

Because people make mistakes, it’s in their nature to fuck up. And sure, some mistakes cannot be forgiven.

But maybe, in this case, it’s not about forgiveness. Maybe it’s more about healing and finding a way to look past what happened – not to forget, but to take it as a chance to do better.

Because maybe, a love that runs so deep, that lives in every cell of Steve’s body, deserves a second chance.

[morning-star-joy]

but I wake up before we do it (Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, Post!Outbreak Neighbors

Summary: You're Joel's new next-door neighbor when he settles in Jackson, and you're determined to add some positivity to the grumpy old man's life. Joel, however, is equally determined to keep you out of his life. Especially when you start to make him feel something he knows he shouldn't. Little does he know, you feel it too.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI Explicit Sexual Content Joel is Horny, Reader is also Horny (f masturbation, Joel hears you), Soft!Reader, Joel is kinda an asshole, Grumpy x Sunshine, Age Gap (Reader late 20s, Joel 56), Language

Wordcount: 2.9k

Part I || Part II || Part III || Masterlist (More Parts Coming Soon)

Joel Miller masterlist

Fucking hell, you were far too good to ever be true.

It was all Joel could think about, the pervasive fact that lingered in the back of his mind whenever he walked by that cup of water sitting next to the sink on his kitchen counter, with the long stems of the daffodils you had given him bunched up inside of it, the blooming flowers drooping awkwardly from the far too small container.

He had first dropped the flowers on top of the counter, dangerously close to the trash can beside it. Honestly, Joel had been aiming for it, but his hand had twitched at the last moment, the bright yellow flowers falling from his calloused fingers to land on the counter instead.

Another day passed before he stood in his kitchen in the morning, cup of coffee in hand, staring at those flowers laying precariously on the edge of the counter, hating how they mocked him before pushing himself up with a sigh.

Joel heard your voice then, being so bold as to tease him, something he hadn’t thought somebody as soft-spoken and sweet as you would be capable of: Traditionally, you put them in a vase. Fill it with water.

He didn’t have a vase, though. And he wasn’t about to put in the effort to find one just because you had mentioned it.

Still, he grabbed a glass from his cabinet, flipping on the faucet to fill it with water as he glared vehemently at the daffodils, grabbing them roughly to then unceremoniously shove them inside the glass, leaving them right next to the sink without giving it another thought that it didn’t deserve.

That was a lie, though.

Every time he passed through his kitchen, he saw them.

And he thought of you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you.

What made the illness you had plagued his mind with even worse was the bright smile on Ellie’s face when he had passed along your daisies for her. It was happiness he hadn’t seen on the girl’s features since the first time they had visited Jackson, before the winter of fucking hell, when he had almost died, and a part of Ellie did.

Joel was even more irritated that he was still thinking about you, even now, walking back home from a long patrol that had left his body aching, in desperate need of a hot shower that he would gladly praise any fucking higher power that may exist for being possible in Jackson.

He looked down at the cuts on his hands, the dirt caked under his fingernails from where he had fallen from his horse today when it had gotten spooked by the appearance of a Clicker. Luckily he was still alive, thanks to Tommy’s quick thinking and quicker shooting, but the situation had been far too close for comfort for Joel to forget about it so quickly.

Maybe he was just getting too old for this shit.

With a sigh, he rolled his shoulder back, wincing at an ache that was beginning to throb there as he pulled his pack off to carry it in his hand instead. Joel focused on the weight of it in his hand, trying to ignore how his dirty fingers reminded him of yours, covered in soil when you had shown up on his doorstep with the flowers.

It was infuriating, not to mention incredibly disrespectful to your kindness (even though he was at a complete loss for why or how that kindness existed), that the dirt that had been marking what looked to be your incredibly soft skin and staining your immaculate, weathered sundress, had sent blood rushing right to his cock when he couldn’t stop thinking about it later that night.

Joel had forgone Jackson’s heavenly gift of hot water for a frigid cold one before bed, palms placed firmly against the wall of the shower as his head bent under the stream of freezing water, taking deep, steady breaths in through his nose and out through clenched teeth as he tried to will his growing erection to go the fuck away.

Even when he had woken up from a dream about you—one that taunted him with impossible images of that sundress on his bedroom floor and streaks of dirt left across your naked flesh from his own fingers—Joel had resisted the incredibly strong urge to palm his throbbing cock where it strained against his boxers, stumbling out of bed to head into the bathroom for another cold shower.

He did his best to avoid you once the lust to have you really started, opting to take the side gate in his backyard to get in and out of the house, cutting through the greenhouses to avoid running into you on the other side of his house if he left out the front door.

Jesus Christ, Joel didn’t even fucking know you.

But he knew that if he did, there would be a catch. Some hidden cruelty underneath those frustratingly warm smiles you sent him both times you showed up outside his door.

There was no way you would have survived this long otherwise.

Lifting his head, Joel let out a small sigh of relief as he turned onto the street where his home sat, ready to indulge in a hot shower for the first time in weeks, before the sound of light, musical laughter filled his ears, coming from the first house in front of him.

Fuck.

He saw you instantly, arms crossed as you leaned them on top of a fence, smiling kindly at an older woman on the other side that was talking to you with a small grin that spoke of undeniable fondness for you.

“I don’t know how you do it,” the older woman was saying, huffing out a playful sigh that drew another soft laugh from your lips, and Joel found his feet frozen to the spot at the end of the street as he watched the interaction. “It just never tastes the same when I make it!”

“Well, Ms. Garcia,” you said slowly, flashing a teasing grin that made Joel stiffen before you asked, “Are you absolutely sure you’re putting sugar in, and not salt?”

“Oh, you,” the woman sighed, wagging a finger at you, causing you to giggle in a way that made Joel’s grip tighten on his backpack. “You’re probably right, though. I’m terrible with this kind of thing.”

“I’ll just have to bring some more by for you,” you replied, still smiling brightly, a smile that didn’t fade even as Ms. Garcia’s gaze flickered over your shoulder, landing on Joel.

Joel frowned at the same moment the older woman did, leaning away from her fence slightly as her brows furrowed, bright countenance disappearing as he wondered how quickly he could walk to get by you without drawing your attention.

He already knew it was far too late to avoid you now, though, especially as you turned to follow Ms. Garcia’s sightline, your eyes finding him standing there, blatantly staring at you while you talked to your—and his, he supposed—neighbor.

To Joel’s complete and utter confusion, you straightened up with an even brighter smile, giving a friendly wave the moment you saw him.

“Hi there, Mr. Miller!” you called, still waving before your hand dropped, and you turned back to Ms. Garcia.

Joel was almost foolish enough to believe that that would be all you said to him, but as he finally began to walk down the street, he had to bite back a sigh when you stepped away from the fence to walk beside him.

He knew that his growing irritation at the situation he was now in was probably an over exaggeration. He knew that you had to walk home, just like he did.

But did you have to walk home with him?

“So,” you started, and Joel held back a sigh.

Did you have to talk to him?

“Did you just get back from patrol?” you ended up asking, and Joel glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noticing that you were wearing jeans today instead of the usual sundress, the pants paired with a lightweight, oversized sweater that hid your curves.

Good. He didn’t need his thoughts distracted right now, not when he was trying to get back inside his house as quickly as possible.

Because he really wanted that hot shower today.

“Is it that obvious?” he found himself drawling, the words holding no small amount of sarcasm.

Joel actually felt a small twinge of guilt as he noticed you shift awkwardly beside him, but you brushed off his rudeness with another laugh, the soft sound a bit less joyous, and a bit more forced this time.

In the back of his mind, Joel had the terrible thought that, maybe if he pushed you far enough, you wouldn’t be so kind as you seemed.

“Just a little,” you found your voice again, and Joel’s grip on his pack tightened, shifting the weight of it into his other hand as he felt his arm begin to ache from holding it.

At the movement, your eyes caught on his hand, and he noticed you swallow hard as you watched his fingers dangle by his side and Jesus Christ, no, you couldn’t feel this too—but then you were glancing back up into his face, your brows furrowed in concern.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

“What?” Joel asked, not even realizing his face had turned fully towards you now until he looked down at his hand at the question and back up at you. “No. ‘M fine.”

“Uh-huh,” you said slowly, glancing over his face again, like you were calling bullshit and searching for the truth.

He thought that when his lips pressed into a firm line and he stared back at you, daring you to say something about it, you would back down.

You didn’t.

“I have some first aid,” you said quietly, gesturing towards your house as they began to near it, and Joel was already shaking his head, instincts telling him he needed to stay far, far away from ever entering your house, even as you continued, “I can help you—”

“No,” he said firmly, and your jaw snapped shut, brows furrowed as he watched your eyes spark with the briefest hint of frustration and ah, there it was. A crack in the perfection that was you. “I told you, I’m fine.”

A sick, twisted part of Joel wanted you to fight him on it, but your brows smoothed back out instead, and you gave a nod as your face melted into one of understanding.

Understanding, of all things.

What fucking bunker had they been keeping something sweet like you in for decades to preserve you in all this unimaginable kindness?

“Of course, you probably have your own,” you brushed off with another laugh, the sound a bit easier this time, eyes so warm that he was looking back down at your sweater again, wondering if your skin was just as warm underneath that—

Joel’s head whipped around, staring in front of him as you came to a stop at the pathway that led up to your front door.

“Well—”

But Joel kept moving, heading up his own pathway, not even looking back at you as you loitered at the edge of your property, refusing to give into the first time he had felt any sort of temptation to look back at you as he closed the door behind him.

God fucking dammit, he was having another cold shower tonight.

The cooler spring day began to warm up towards the end, so much so that you had to open up your bedroom window to let a gentle breeze in before bed.

You settled under your faded floral sheets with a book, opening it up to the homemade bookmark you had left to keep your spot, fingernail trailing across the words until you picked up exactly where you left off.

Unfortunately, after only a few pages, you found yourself reading the same words over and over as you thought back to your interaction with Joel that had occurred hours ago.

When you read the words “he said” at least 5 times before you lost track, you put your bookmark back between the pages, snapping the silly little romance novel closed and tossing it to the side with a groan.

Reaching your hands up, you pressed your palms against your eyes, willing the image of Joel Miller to disappear from where it had been haunting you.

It was just the latest of the very few, very short times you had seen him, but it had left you just as intrigued, just as unsatisfied as the ones before.

You shook your hand, letting your hands drop to your sides, placing your palms flat against the top blanket as you tried your best to stop thinking about him.

Part of you couldn’t help but feel a little worried, still rehashing how he had brushed you aside when you asked if he was hurt.

But Joel was a grown man—very much so, you thought as images of the silver in his hair flashed through your mind, the salt and pepper facial hair covering a weathered face and no, no, enough of that—and he had to know how to take care of himself. Especially in this kind of world you had all been in for the last twenty years.

Still, you couldn’t help but think of the cuts that had littered his hand, the dirt and a bit of blood caked under his fingernails when he had shifted his backpack to his other hand.

You also couldn’t help but dwell on the length of those fingers, how thick they were, as they hung by his side, inches away from the fabric of your jeans as you walked beside him.

No, you thought firmly to yourself, pressing your palms even harder against the blankets, willing yourself to keep them at your sides. No, you were not thinking of Joel Miller, your grumpy, standoffish neighbor who probably despised you, that way.

Then you glanced back over the book you had abandoned, taking in the scantily dressed woman draped across the broad, firm chest of a ruggedly handsome man across the cover, his strong arms wrapped around her and oh, no.

Your fingers began to slip up the blanket, biting your lip hard as you stared at the cover of that book, remembering the smutty words of the last chapter and oh no.

With a shaky exhale, you reached one hand out for the book, picking it up and quickly flipping backwards in the pages to that scene. You desperately reread the words, soaking in the description of a thick, throbbing cock sinking into the moaning, mewling heroine, over and over, your free hand slipping under your blanket to find the band of your shorts, moving underneath to fiddle with the hemline of your panties.

You shouldn’t.

You really, really shouldn’t.

In fact, you convinced yourself you weren’t. You told yourself you were purely basing this little self-love moment of much-needed release off the smutty book.

But when your eyes fixed on that description, your fingers sliding underneath your panties to glide along your folds, a soft moan escaping your lips as you collected your wetness to begin to slowly rub your clit—you weren’t seeing the way that man was described.

In your mind you saw dark curls instead of the short blond hair that was written; brown eyes instead of blue, holding a severe stare instead of a loving gaze; tan skin instead of pale, weathered and scarred, maybe? Did he have scars on his body, like the one on his temple, and the one on his nose?

Your hips lifted into your hand as your head tilted back, moaning again as you circled your clit faster, lifting the book above your head so you could focus on that one sentence—he thrusted into her quickly, his nails digging into the soft skin of her thighs, drawing wanton moans from her plush lips—and you moaned again, even louder, eyes fluttering shut as you felt yourself hurtling towards that edge, so close that if you just changed the angle of your fingers a little bit, you would—

The sound of a door slamming shut made your eyes snap open, a gasp pulled from your lungs as the book tumbled from your hands to land on the bed at the same moment your other hand snapped away from your throbbing clit.

You grabbed the sheets, pulling them closer to yourself as you glanced around wildly, heart pounding in your chest at the thought of being caught.

But who would catch you?

You were very much alone, having nobody to keep you company in your little house.

Then a breeze brushed past your face, and your eyes lifted towards your bedroom window and, oh.

Oh, no.

You pushed yourself from your bed quickly, too quickly, legs tangling in the sheets and causing you to fall to your forearms.

With a groan, you detangled yourself, rising to hurry towards the window that was still very much open.

For a moment, you glanced through it, noting the open window on the second story right above your own window.

Jesus.

Had he—

Your cheeks warmed, and you slammed your window shut, grabbing the curtains to pull them over it, feeling a surge of overwhelming embarrassment as you hurried back to hide under your sheets.

Yeah, you were never leaving your house again.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Can you talk more about the fandom's ableism with Ink and Killer??im quite curious!/gen (reference to your reblog tags)

I can try, but know im not an expert and also bigger knowledgeable inks fans are welcome to chime in.

So we all know how Ink is soulless, yes? It is because of this that people take it as an excuse to demonize them and make them evil, fake, manipulative, abusive, a bad parent, a rapist—everything under the sun simply because he’s soulless, lacks empathy.

Some people claim he doesn’t feel emotions because of his soullessness all the time and the paint vials he takes are just “fake emotions,” but in actuality Ink needs those paints to function (because without them Ink becomes an unmoving husk and this makes him extremely vulnerable to being used and taken advantage of), and to feel. It’s basically medication that he needs.

Not to mention; Ink is clearly a neurodivergent character, having hyperfixations and everything. This breeds depictions of “Ink is so stupid,” “Ink is a child,” “Ink needs to be leashed and treated like an animal,” “everyone is tired of and hates ink because ink is annoying.”

You see this type of thing with Killer a lot too in his fanon depictions, and this is because it’s a pretty agreed upon headcanon that Killer has ADHD; it’s just that most people clearly don’t do any research into how Ink and Killer’s ADHD/Autism are disorders, how they actually impact them as characters and their lives rather then how they annoy and inconvenience everyone else around them, infantilize and dehumanize them by treating them like hyperactive idiotic children or animals that need to be kept on a leash—is stereotypical depictions of ADHD with the typical “hyperactive talking a lot so annoying oh my god can you just shut up?” and “can’t ever stop moving or talking” and just generally have other characters be ableist and abusive as fuck towards them both and play it off as if it’s supposed to be funny to be talked to like that just because something they have no control over was a little annoying today.

there’s no discussions or depictions how this stuff effects either of them. Killer already has a dissociative disorder and CPTSD and can’t trust his own memory, and Ink has short term memory loss so bad he needs to write things down on their scarf just to keep track of it, and yet Killer’s memory issues are completely ignored because he has to be the silly haha comedy relief that all the characters use as their punching bag and Ink’s is only ever brought up in any serious capacity to paint them as a bad parent who would forget that his children even exists.

Killer and Ink are both characters with little to no empathy for others; and this is used to demonize them, or is completely ignored by giving Ink a soul or and forcing Killer into Stage 1 as their quick fixes.

Their lack of empathy and emotionlessness is only ever brought up to use them as villains in another character’s story; which is extra fucked up when people refuse to acknowledge that Killer is a canonical victim of literal conditioning, abuse, torture, kidnapping, and literal fucking trafficking.

People are demonizing someone who is literally trapped in a trafficking ring and being sent out as weapon of terrorism by Nightmare under threat of torture, death, and replacement all because, oh. He’s emotionless. He’s sadistic. He doesn’t act like a perfect victim curling up in a ball crying from guilt every single day and why doesn’t he just say no?

Killer isn’t perfect but people like to pretend he has more control and power than he does and like he actually wants this when the man doesn’t even know what he wants because he became who he needed to be to survive. People seem dumbfounded by the concept that victims will mirror their abusers to survive and that obviously won’t make them good people, but killer doesn’t consider himself people.

It’s never brought up how Ink’s memory loss and his lack of paints making him a husk would make him very easily to abuse and use and lie to and manipulate and take advantage. It’s never brought up how Ink thinks and feels about upsetting or losing friends because he forgot their names, or their birthdays, or when they were meeting up and where, and no matter how hard he tries things just keep slipping from his mind.

It’s never brought up how Stage 2’s indifference and overwhelming apathy and dehumanizing view of himself (and others, just like Ink, who sees others as characters in a story whereas Killer sees people more like codes programmed to follow specific scripts and roles in a long series of games and tests and just not real), means he is a lot more likely to be used and abused and taken advantage of—and yes, raped, because for some reason people really really love making Killer a sexual predator as if he’s not the one most likely to be abused in that manner—means he’d likely just accept whatever someone does to him (especially if he believes they’re stronger than him) because why should he care? Nothing matters anyway. There’s no point in resisting, why bother. This is how it was always supposed to end, and nothing is real anyway. This doesn’t affect me, i don’t have emotions, im not real. I’m not a person.

The only form of control Killer would have is playing along. Acting, pretending he enjoys it and is having fun—but ultimately, he doesn’t know if he does or not. Where does he begin and the act end. He doesn’t know, but if everyone around him is telling him one thing, then it must be true.

Stage 2 wouldn’t see himself as a victim or anything that happened to him as anything particularly significant. Nightmare asks him to do something and he does it because why not is what he thinks—it’s just how it works, Nightmares stronger. He ignores what would happen if he drug his feet or attempted to refuse because to him it’s just logical that he’d be punished for that, and he likes pain anyway, so enjoying means he must’ve wanted it.

(Does this justify the people he hurts when commanded to, triggered to, provoked, or when his dehumanization of others and conditioning leads him to do pretty awful abusive shit to them out of sadism or curiosity or just needing to feel in control? No, of course not. Any of his victims are allowed to hate him or feel however they want about him.

Doesn’t mean we have to ignore that he’s also a victim and has even less control than he allows others to see or know about, and that he himself likely refuses to acknowledge or look at too deeply.)

Which is another thing a lot of people use to justify Nightmare’s abuse of Killer. That he’s masochistic and sometimes pushes and provokes Nightmare into hurting him—the idea that it’s not actually abuse because he “wanted it” and “liked it” or that he’s somehow as bad as Nightmare because “he provoked him.”

He cannot access the emotions and trauma and fear and moral concerns and safety concerns of his other Stages because that is the entire point of his dissociative disorder and his conditioning. This makes him easy to control and this how he’s survived and remained even somewhat functioning.

Not to mention. The idea that Ink and Killer need to “learn empathy” or “learn emotions” to be better or good people, and not because being in touch with emotions is an important thing everyone should learn especially victims of abuse and those with trauma and that having little to no empathy is not some moral failing on their end or says something about the type of people they are. It just means they struggle to relate to others, understand their emotions, or feel others emotions as if it were their own.

There’s also the matter of some people trying to say that because Ink is soulless he is AroAce. That is not true, is both aro/aphobic and ableist. Ink is both soulless and AroAce and these are two completely separate things—they’d still be AroAce even if they had a soul.

There’s probably a whole lot more that can be said about this, but I’ll end it right here. Others can add on or correct me.