#Christmas List Erased

[disarraydoodlez]

Christmas List Erased Day 24: The ghost of Christmas past, Family

I know these last two we're doing are MEGA late but Christmas really took it out of us. This was SUPPOSED to be on schedule to make everyone sad on the 24th right before Christmas but family obligations and tiredness absolutely destroyed us so we went for quality over quantity with this one. 23/25 is still a good ratio. We have one more picture for Christmas list erased prolly posting later today and mayhaps a doodle page and something else.

As always, thank y'all for all the support this blog has gotten, is been so epic making all of this art and seeing people enjoying it so much! The 25th is the one I've been the most excited for so please guess the characters and theme!

[queerofthedagger]

Just hunted down a physical copy of "Pages Passed from Hand to Hand: The Hidden Tradition of Homosexual Literature in English from 1748 to 1914" that's in good condition, affordable, and without abhorrent shipping fees, and yes yes, having to wait three weeks until it gets here is entirely reasonable, but also I'm so excited for it, my already non-existent well of patience is a little kid waiting for presents on Christmas help

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[bridenore]

HD Party Games fic recs

Here are a few drarry fic recs in which party games play an important part. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Back to You by @aibidil & daisymondays [8k]

The eighth years make Harry and Malfoy go head to head and back to back in a question-and-answer drinking game. The worst that can happen is they end up drunk, right?

Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [39k]

Post-war Hogwarts has been energized by its new teaching fellows program. Where once bitter enmity divided the wizarding community, Malfoy and Potter chummily patrol hallways together whilst Granger and Zabini seek lost parts of the castle at McGonagall’s behest and Chang supervises Quidditch when not lecturing in Charms. It’s a veritable wizarding utopia and life is predictable for the first time in years. Which is, of course, when everything blows apart as the result of a drunken dare and Malfoy’s life is ruined beyond his capacity to repair it. Ever. In a million years.

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks [7k]

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

Erase the Shame by FleetofShippyShips [6k]

An Inter-House unity party is the last thing Draco wants to go to. It's not long into a game of Truth or Dare when he is reminded why. But maybe his dare is worth it after all.

Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]

Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already? This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.

Games Night by @agentmoppet​ [6k]

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much... tension?

How to Handle an Enemy by who_la_hoop [7k]

Everyone knows that it’s no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate… Turnbout Is Fair Play by who_la_hoop [10k]   After a – cough – revealing game of truth or dare instigated by  his fellow Slytherins, Draco Malfoy finds himself in possession of a).  the interesting knowledge that a certain Gryffindor horror may not be as   immune to his personal charms as hitherto suspected and b). the   password to the Gryffindor Tower. But Draco makes a fundamental error   when he decides to make use of these facts.

Love, Harry by Zzzara [26k]

Harry Potter keeps a huge secret: that scary thing he can’t tell anyone about. Until a mysterious penfriend changes his life, because he keeps a secret, too.

Never Have I Ever Thought That You Might Want Me, Too by @drarrymyheart [8k]

“When it’s his turn, Ron gives Harry an ominous look. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss any of the boys in this room.” Harry freezes. Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Hannah, Pansy, and even Blaise are all immediately lifting their drinks. Malfoy moves to pick his up as well and Harry tracks the movement as if watching in slow-motion…The ridge of Malfoy’s bottle of cider pushes against his lower lip as he takes a sip. Harry nearly groans. Steeling himself, Harry drinks.” Harry and the crew take a ski trip. Harry can’t seem to keep his eyes and thoughts off a certain blonde.

One Night at the Leaky by birdsofshore [41k]

Harry should have known better than to accept a drunken dare. Especially when Malfoy was sitting right there, looking like that and wearing those bloody tight trousers. 

A Perfectly Valid Dare by kitty_fic [5k]

“It’s a perfectly valid dare,” Pansy says, and somehow she looks like she actually believes what she says. “I am not doing that,” Draco insists. He really has no idea when daring someone to wank in Harry Potter’s bed became a perfectly valid dare?

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k] 

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

Silk Scarves and Enchanted Handcuffs by TommyLane [28k]

It was only supposed to be for seven minutes and then the blindfold would come off and he'd be free from the dark cupboard and his mystery partner - only Harry was no longer sure he wanted it to end.

Starts With a Spin by Maxine [119k]

It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.

Truths, Dares, and Love Affairs by @ronbinary [17k]

NEWTs are approaching, Mind Healing is mandatory, and something is wrong with the castle. And then, there’s Potter.

When I Put My Eyes On You by Zzzara [31k]

When a hero defeats a villain, there’s supposed to be a happily-ever-after… but when did anything ever happen to Harry Potter the way it was supposed to? Having sacrificed himself to the greater good, Harry is left alone in the darkness, blindly groping for the shreds of the life he knew. When the enemies meet, how is the story supposed to go, once they learn there’s more to it than the eye can see? A story of pain, hope and things we discover, once we stop looking for them with our eyes.

where all the veins meet by eight_of_wands [146k]

It’s the summer of 1998. The battle is over, and Voldemort is dead, but Harry still has more questions than answers. Who is he without a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his head? What is he supposed to do now? His friends try to help, but the only thing that can hold his attention—one of the only things that ever has—is Draco Malfoy, out on parole and weirdly hanging around the British Museum. As they keep running into each other, Harry sees that Malfoy is different, and he wonders if he can be someone else, too. Featuring rumpled band shirts, poker games everyone hates, fumbling sex, and a Harry going a little mental over how wands even work.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[intuitive-revelations]

The near future in the Doctor Who universe sure gets dire doesn't it? Especially if Mad Jack / Roger ap Gwilliam is still part of history.

I thought I'd have a bit of fun listing things out, combining as many sources as possible. Turns out he fits in shockingly well with what we know. There's a lot missing here or cut out, and for obvious reasons it's very UK / Europe focused, but nonetheless:

[ID: Scene from The Christmas Invasion showing Harriet Jones on BBC News. The news ticker reads "PM HEALTH SCARE", "Unfit for duty?", and references a "SECRET GOVERNMENT MOLE" and a quote: "BLOOD ON [HER HANDS]".]

2006-2021 (obviously the past now, but still noting for the resulting temporal and political butterfly effect) - In the original timeline, Harriet Jones remains Prime Minister for 3 consecutive terms, presumably 15 years assuming no snap election was called, referred to as a 'golden age' [World War Three]. The Tenth Doctor deliberately changes history to cause her deposal [The Christmas Invasion], leading to numerous disastrous terms in the meantime, including those of Harold Saxon [The Sound of Drums et al.], Brian Green (who tried to appease the 456) [Children of Earth], Boris Johnson (an auton host of the Nestene Consciousness) [Rose (novelisation)], and Jo Patterson (responsible for deploying cloned Dalek defence drones in the UK's streets) [Revolution of the Daleks].

[ID: Scene from Revolution of the Daleks. A 'defence drone' Dalek is used to support anti-riot police in a test, dispersing protestors with mock tear gas.]

2010s-2030s - The European Union gradually integrates further, eventually becoming the European Zone / Eurozone, a global superpower which competes with the USA through the 21st century. The UK eventually forms part of the bloc [Trading Futures].

It's likely that Harriet Jones's deposal led to this and related events being delayed or erased, with Brexit (driven by, among others, one of Jones's successors in the new timeline) reducing european unity. Most notably, Ramón Salamander's rise to power occurs now not in the 2010s [The Enemy of the World], but in the 2030s [Doctor Who and the Enemy of the World]. There are other events that are seemingly delayed by ~20 years by changes to the timeline, including future events like the dictatorship of Mariah Learman [The Time of the Daleks, Trading Futures], and yet also possibly past events like the death of Queen Elizabeth II [Battlefield, The Longest Night et al.], which may suggest something else (eg. the Time War) may be responsible.

~2030 - During a time of rising global tensions [73 Yards], Ramón Salamander convinces a group of scientists in an underground shelter endurance experiment that nuclear war has broken out on the surface. They are convinced to generate artificial "natural" disasters to fight back against the enemy. Between this and ongoing climate change, several global food sources collapse as a result, including Canada and Ukraine's corn and flour production [The Enemy of the World].

2031 - Tensions culminate in the "Great Russian War". Despite posturing, not a single nuclear weapon is fired, at least by NATO [73 Yards]. This may be later considered World War III [Trading Futures].

~2032-2035 - Following the war, tensions rise again, now between the Eurozone and the USA [Trading Futures], possibly in reaction to actions (or lack thereof?) taken by NATO during the war [73 Yards]. Both send separate peacekeeping forces to conflict in North Africa. Meanwhile, Italy is engaged in civil war [Trading Futures].

[ID: Scene from The Enemy of the World, showing Ramón Salamander.]

Over the decade, Ramón Salamander rises in power in the World Zone Authority, using his patented "Sun Store" satellite technology to aid the growth of crops by controlling sunlight over agricultural regions. In the background, he murders and blackmails officials to place loyalists into powerful positions, with the goal of ruling over the World Zone Authority as a dictator. Salamander's treachery is later discovered and he disappears [The Enemy of the World].

2037 - 2042 - Several militia declare wars of Independence from the USA. Notably, Phoenix, Arizona is destroyed in a terrorist attack. While the country largely persists after the conflicts, some territories seem to successfully secede - with, for example, a Montana Republic seemingly being in existence in 2054 [Alien Bodies].

2038 - The World Zones Accord is signed. This is later considered to have reduced the United Nations to a 'joke' compared with the World Zone Authority [Alien Bodies]. Given the extensive power it gives to the WZA, this was likely originally part of Salamander's plan, but due to his disappearance he is not around to reap the rewards [The Enemy of the World].

2039 - A group of Mexican astronauts studying minerals on the Moon go missing [Kill the Moon].

~2030s - 2040s - The Earth begins to experience major climate change effects, including "appalling storm conditions" which harm agriculture [The Waters of Mars]. The ice caps melt and flood much of the Earth [K9] with nations like the Netherlands ending up entirely flooded [St Anthony's Fire]. Some regions experience corrosive acid rain [Cat's Cradle: War Head, Strange Loops]. One summer sees Britain experience a 22 week drought. At this time, the Eurozone closes its borders to millions of North African and Baltic Sea refugees [Hothouse]. This time period may be known as the "Oil Apocalypse" [The Waters of Mars].

[ID: Scene from K9 Episode 13: Aeolian. Big Ben stands in the middle of a colossal storm of wind and rain.]

With Earth's ecosystems collapsing [Davros], humanity begin to realise it's facing extinction [The Waters of Mars]. An artificial cooling agent is spread in the atmosphere to semi-successfully combat the effects, but leads to dramatic side-effects, including freezing some areas of the globe. This is known as the "Great Cataclysm" [K9].

2041 - A three-human team, including Adelaide Brooke, lands on Mars for the first time [The Waters of Mars]. However, with this accomplishment, and increasing turbulence on Earth, Humanity gradually loses interest in space exploration [Kill the Moon].

Before 2045 - Around this time, the UK falls into a dictatorship ruled by the "Director", head of a military council that has allegedly (secretly?) controlled the government since 2028 [Britain Protests]. It is possible that this Director was previously the "Minister of War" for previous governments [Before the Flood].

2045 - The World Zones Authority evolves into a World Government, with Nikita Bandranaik being elected President. The UK is not part of the organisation [This is 2065].

2046-2050s - The Director is overthrown [Down with the Director] and the rest of the government "collapses in shame" [73 Yards]. Some of the revolutionaries celebrate now being "masters of [their] own country" [Down with the Director]. Despite the hopes of the World Government for international integration, this nationalistic streak continues.

[ID: Scene from 73 Yards. Roger ap Gwilliam, with an Albion Party ribbon on his chest declares victory on BBC News, live from Kennington High in London. Headline reads "LANDSLIDE VICTORY FOR ALBION PARTY: Majority of 92 predicted. Roger ap Gwilliam declared Prime Minister."]

Roger ap Gwilliam is elected Prime Minister, with the far-right nationalistic Albion Party gaining a majority of 92 MPs [73 Yards]. While his government does take the step to officially join the World Government senate [Down with the Director], he seeks greater independence from other nations. One of his first actions is to expand the UK's nuclear arsenal, purchasing missiles from Pakistan and withdrawing from NATO. In his term, the world is brought to the brink of nuclear war [73 Yards], likely in the pre-2050s "Euro Wars" [The Time of the Daleks].

In this time, the "Department", a (private?) multinational security organisation is born, based primarily in the UK. They gain broad powers, which they use to control populations with propaganda and use of "CCPC"s: robotic law enforcement notorious for their surveillance and brutality. Despite its recent revolution, the country is rendered practically a police state [K9].

[ID: Scene from K9 Episode 1: Regeneration. CCPCs, hulking police robots, march down a dark alley.]

2049 - The Moon starts to dramatically gain mass, causing massive tides on the Earth, flooding entire cities. In a last ditch at survival, humanity plans to try and destroy the Moon using an array of nuclear bombs. Despite the people of Earth being offered the vote on what to do by turning off their lights, it appears the decision is made on a national level, with lights going off grid-by-grid. Nonetheless, the Moon is allowed to hatch, leaving behind a new less massive egg "moon" with minimal further destruction [Kill the Moon].

[ID: Scene from Kill the Moon. The Moon hatches in the background, as the TARDIS stands by the sea.]

Humanity's interest in space exploration returns [Kill the Moon], starting a new space race. Among these projects, Australia begins constucting a space elevator, Spain a project called "SpaceLink", while Germany and Russia each begin a series of new Moon missions. The Philippines are rumoured to be planning their own landing on Mars [The Waters of Mars].

~2050 - The UK Government (ap Gwilliam's?) is couped once more, by General Mariah Learman. With the King's permission, elections are suspended for at least a couple years, with her ruling over a "benevolent dictatorship". She is later abducted and forcibly mutated by the Daleks [The Time of the Daleks]. Despite the previous description, her promotion of Shakespeare in schools is remembered as the only good thing about her rule [Trading Futures]. (Note: As mentioned prior, it's likely that Learman's rule may have been delayed as Salamander's was. This is suggested by the mention of her in Trading Futures, set seemingly ~2030s or earlier, despite The Time of the Daleks taking place around the 2050s.)

~2050s - The Gravitron is built on the new Moon. This is used to artificially control the tides and weather [The Moonbase]. It likely also is intended to study and monitor the new Moon for future changes [Kill the Moon].

[ID: Scene from The Moonbase, giving an external shot of the base.]

2058 - 2059 - Bowie Base One is established: humanity's first colony on another planet and an international collaboration between the UK, USA, Russia, Germany, Turkey, South Korea, Lithuania, Australia, and Pakistan. One year later, it is mysteriously destroyed in a deliberately triggered nuclear explosion. In the original timeline, there were no survivors. However, after the interference of the Time Lord Victorious, the true story is eventually told on Earth. Regardless "a veil of darkness" sweeps over the planet over the next few years. [The Waters of Mars], as international tensions heat up once more... [Total Eclipse of the Heart].

[ID: Scene from The Waters of Mars, showing an internet news website. Various articles appear focused on the Bowie Base One incident, including "SURVIVORS STORY - BROOKE SAVED EARTH", "THE MYTHICAL DOCTOR", "BROOKE'S HEROIC ACTIONS SAVE EARTH", and "HOW THE COUPLE ESCAPED MARS". The feature image shows the two survivors: Yuri Kerenski and Mia Bennett.]

2060s - The "Great War" breaks out on Earth, involving every country on Earth. This is likely World War IV. Details are vague, but it ultimately ends in a ceasefire, when it's realised the conflict is risking Earth's habitability [Total Eclipse of the Heart].

[violetsiren90]

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut (eventual fluff 😂); BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom; MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace lol; Hobi in the studio 👀 (The full oneshot will come with more specific warnings - a looooong list lol)

Mood board here! ⛓🖤

Release date: Christmas? 🎄

Author's note: Hey, y'all! I am catapulting out of my comfort zone with this one and, honestly, having the time of my life. I've been in my Hobi era lately and when the concept of dom!Hobi possessed my mind I knew I'd have to write it out or else. 😅😂 I hope to pop this under your trees around Christmas! Hope you enjoy the teaser, and as always, if no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Also, a big thank you to @orchidyoonkook for beta reading this - you are the real MVP! 💕

If you want to be alerted via the tag list for this when it drops, let me know!

_______________________________________________

  "What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

    You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

    "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

    The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

    "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

    You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

    Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

    You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

    "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

    He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

    "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

    At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

    Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down. It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

    "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

    "I told him...I said..."

    "What?"

    "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

    You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. Shit.

    "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

    He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

    "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

    You don't answer him. You can't. Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his grey sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him -  standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

    "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

    He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bare.

    "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

    He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

    "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

    "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

    You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

    "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

    "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

    But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

    "When you're a filthy pathetic little slut."

    A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together (to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure), and that's when he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes fluttering frantically open. 

    "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?" Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long, something that longs to feed.

    You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

    "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want - your friend. Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

    "Yes - yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

    So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body. You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

    "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his words.

    You blink, your mind running up against the sudden saccharine pet name (which he has admittedly called you before) as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous.     Something simple maybe...a flower...?

    "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

    "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever - okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

    You nod.

    "Say it for me," he whispers, you shiver again. Fuck.

    "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

    "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

    You scramble to find your voice.

    "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

    He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

    "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

    He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

    "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

     He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

    "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

    "No, Hobi," you whisper. And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

    "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

    You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and completely exhilarating. When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want. You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

    "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

    "Make me."

[jolalibrary]

stockings and stars

javier peña x f!reader

summary: Still need the star putting on the top of the tree. ive got other plans for you Because I’m the star? yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

from the late night texts world - but can still be enjoyed on its own. chapter warnings: allusion to/mentions of smut. no actual smut. javi undresses you, though. flirting. fluff. reader wears red lingerie and a dressing gown. javi flirting. sexy talk, romcom vibes ofc ✨ wordcount: 3k

an: to @goodwithcheese merry christmas from me, to you. thank you for everything, for the tuesday fun we have - i wanted nothing more than to have this out sooner, but life, you know? but, i adore you. and I'm so glad we found one another. ahuge thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who cheerleaded for me throughout.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

Will I be seeing Santa Javi today? I want to decorate my tree.

one time I come to yours in a red shirt

You also had the tree under your arm and a bag of baubles, I’d class those as gifts.

keep talking baby and you can decorate your tree alone

Think I’m gonna wear that shirt you left here while I do it. Make sure I have to get up on my tip toes. Hope it doesn't rise up...

you don’t play fair

I think I’ll be in stockings too…

youre killing me

Maybe they’re white and red, and…

baby if i wasn’t putting this thing up for Pop, i’d be driving over right now

Hope you hurry up, I need someone tall to put the star on top of the tree.

how am I gonna eat you out when youre perched on the tree baby

The last thing on his to-do list from his Pop is to hang the front porch garland.

He had learnt there had been a huge difference in the front and the back porch garlands. A fifteen-minute-long difference when he'd timed the response given to his sarcastic answer.

Javi learnt there was not only one for the back porch and the front, but one which sat across the fireplace and one on the staircase.

He learnt that after he'd made a joke about mixing them up—earning himself a very pointed glare, and the task of the front porch.

Now, it’s a battle he’s losing.

Tremendously so.

While he’d never want his Pop to do the more challenging tasks, he did rather hate he hadn’t thought to trade this one in for the back porch at the very least—because that had looked fucking easy.

Holding the garland in hand, he’s suddenly hit with a second wave of nostalgia, the first having arrived when he'd pulled down the box and peered into it.

It did the same thing as it had done then, all but rushed over him, layering itself on his shoulders, sitting, nothing short of a comfortable weight on him. Letting his gaze fall out over it, he smiles at the tuffs of fabric, all the bows tied by hand, all in an array of sizes and shades.

Over time, he can see how they've become sun-dyed, remembering the first year they'd been sewn into the faux greenery by his mamá, memories of her all hunched over, humming carols.

Smiling, he rolls his lips, letting out a heavier sigh than he intended as he drags it to the post he’d begin at.

But, all he wonders is whether in the years he wasn’t here, whether it was occasionally hung—or if this year is just that special.

The mere hint that he was going to ask if you wished to spend Christmas at the ranch had sent his Pop into overdrive. Practically yanked him out of his chair like he’d been electrified, a bunch of orders being flung from under his white, wiry moustache that they needed to get ready.

He wasn't sure he'd get the image of his Pop suddenly scrambling around like a man half his age, to drag the decorations out from the cupboard, would ever be erased from his mind. Least of all the sound you'd made aww'ing down the phone when he'd given you a condensed version of the story.

Because he hasn't asked you yet, not properly.

Even though he's spent the last two days at the back of barns and spending a ridiculous amount of time at the hardware store—because we need to make sure the lights stay up, Jav.

He just hasn't found the right time to ask you. A promise each time he goes to see you left in the air. Not that his Pop remembers that, instead he's just busy thinking up ways to make it special: one of which includes decorating the trees at the entrance to the ranch.

An idea having sprouted with the newest ranch hand—one which, if Javi overheard correctly, involves rope acting like tinsel and a cowboy hat being the star on the top of the trees.

Feeling his phone vibrate, he temporarily ignores it as he begins to weave the beginning of the garland around the wood—already knowing, before he tries to move it around the spindles, that it isn’t going to be easy.

Because nothing ever fucking is.

Least of all when you’re waiting for him.

His mind begins to concoct images of you in bows and sheer material, lips painted, sat waiting, smelling nothing short of heavenly as you call out for—

“Fuck,” he shouts, dropping the garland to the ground.

It had pricked him, stabbed him right in the skin—hand shaking the pain out, face likely all scrunched. And, if it didn't have sentimental value, he's sure he'd have kicked its protesting ass with everything he had. Instead, he just narrows his eyes more than he had done moments ago as he begins again.

He feels his nostrils flare when it begins to undo itself. The sound of faux bristles on wood grates him before it will even attempt to do what he needs it to.

And it makes him want to quit, to throw it back into the box and tell his Pop it isn’t worth it. But he knows it is. Knows that his mama didn’t spend hours bent over under flickering light for it not to be seen.

Javi also strongly suspects you’d love it. Likely run your fingers over several bows asking who made it. He can even imagine the look of joy on your face when he tells you.

It’s why, if he didn’t already suspect it anyway, he’s pretty sure his Pop loves you more than him. Because even the first Christmas he was back, there weren’t this many decorations; not nearly as much need to have them all out, either.

Not that Javi really minds—or blames him.

There’s a notable shift in energy when you stay over. Even more so in him. He can see there’s a cheer and a glow to the place—one Javi hates watching vanish when he takes you back to your place.

It's why, when—and where—he can, he fights for you to be here. Practically finds convincing ways to do so, including, crossword puzzles, dinner, and two-person showers. But, at some stage, your clothing dwindles, underwear runs low, and he has to make the painful drive into town to return you to your place.

Your fingers in his hair, practically clambered into his lap as you whisper that you’ll be back before he knows it. His fingers on your chin, thumb stroking out the words he says right back—that he’ll miss you all the same.

Javier Peña. Texan softie—what will the world think?

He only thinks one thing when he drives back—a response which had been there on his lips. Guess they’ll see just how much I love you. A thing you know, comment on, say back to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. An array of promises there, sometimes spoken at a normal level and sometimes whispered.

You always keep them, just like the one that you are always back before he knows it.

He likes it when you are. Enjoys it when you’re nestled beside him, arm across his chest, hand close to his ribs—strumming them, tracing lines and words he tries to understand before sleep takes him.

He still always sleeps better when you’re beside him. When his breathing can mirror yours, when he can feel for you in the night when he’s awoken with nightmares and things he knows won’t ever come true.

Now, he’s fighting a different battle. One to get to you.

Halted in his path to freedom by the garland which refused to be hung, and could be labelled as giving him more grief than the horses which had banded together. A phrase he never thought he’d admit out loud, never mind think.

You still fighting with the garland?

baby its torturing me on purpose

Do you want me to come and help?

will you come in the stockings

No!! Your dad is there.

then stay there actually lie down, but do not begin without me

Still need the star putting on the top of the tree.

ive got other plans for you

Because I’m the star?

yeah you're my star and youre not going anywhere but on your back

Hurry then.

i’m hurrying

He does hurry—practically scratched up by the time he’s parking his truck outside your place.

As he takes the step up to your door, Javi realises how much he misses it here when he doesn’t visit. A place less frequent and often spent time in, even under your insistence of renting it.

It is always usually a stopping point, him parking up, letting you go in and grab what you need before you're back in his truck, heading back to his.

He does like your place though, likes how small it is, how cosy. Plus, it has all the things which make you, you. A thing his place is currently missing.

Although, as he steps through the door, and calls your name, he does have to admit it currently looks fucking ridiculous.

On a good day, he’d describe your place as crowded, but right now, it’s claustrophobic.

The tree you’d forced him to get is shoved into a corner, branches fluffed out, surrounded by the piles of unpacked boxes you’ve tried to discreetly hide. Your remaining floorspace is overtaken by a bit of rug, several piles of books (you have no room for, but continue to buy) and odd bits of furniture you find and attempt to restore.

For the most part, you’ve decorated. A thing you did inform him of.

You’ll be pleased to know when you get here your only job is the star. managed it all yourself, did you I’m a very competent woman, Javi. oh i know baby ive seen you with a crossword Does that do it for you? Me finishing a crossword. does something to me Get over here. im leaving now

There’s a warm, comforting glow spread out across the place from the fairy lights you’ve hung and the array of mismatched decorations—both bought and handmade—hanging from branches.

He breathes in the scent of orange which hangs in the air, his eyes finding the culprit on your fireplace, a garland—one not dissimilar to the one he’d been battled with—places there, mocking him due to the ease of which had been laid, with oranges and little beads all entwined within it.

Snorting, he glances back at your tree, spotting the things he's been with you when you've bought. And, as promised—and informed him through text—there’s nothing at the top of your tree.

“You finally made it!”

Spinning on his heel, he comes face to face with you, and fuck if the sight of you doesn’t make it all worth it.

Dressed in a red, silky dressing gown, all tied in the middle, you're a vision. Then, there's the fact your lips are painted a shade he’d now famously dub Christmas red, a colour he wants nothing more than to be stained with. A path of it from his mouth down to the space where his jeans meet his hips. A thought which seems to only make how tight his jeans are even more uncomfortable.

“Cariño, you’re…”

You sway a little, letting the fabric move—allowing his gaze to land on the stockings. The ones he’s been thinking about all afternoon. The ones he can’t wait to feel under his palm and know whether they’ll create friction when wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck me.”

“I’m kinda banking on it,” you say, biting your red-painted lip. “But first…”

His hand crawls around your waist, feeling the smooth, soft texture under his hand—swallowing, dragging his eyes up and down you, unsure how he could ever be so lucky—how something so good could ever be here for him to unwrap.

“I need you to hang the star,” you continue.

“Right now?”

Nodding, you ghost your lips over his. “I’ve been so good waiting for you.”

“You're never good. You, baby, are a menace.”

“I’m your menace.”

Snorting, he presses a kiss to your lips. “Damn right, you are.”

Moving from you, reluctantly, only to pick up the gold star he assumes you want to hang, getting a nod from you that he’s right.

“Need to ask you something too.”

And even though he’s only taken a mere short step from you, he’s floored all over again about what a picture you look like when he glances back. That you’re standing all for him, dressed in nothing but cheer and ribbons all for him.

“Go on.”

Turning to your tree, he flattens his hand to the wall for stability. “I wanted…”

His concentration slides in—suddenly aware he doesn’t want to knock anything from the branches. Doesn’t want to force things to be misplaced from where they were expertly hung.

He’s also sure he’s wanting to swallow the question. A part of him, all the way deep inside of him, having been bracing—and waiting—to hear you’d be apart for the holidays. A thing the two of you have rarely been since you moved here, not a day going by he hasn’t seen you for at least an hour.

“Wanted to know if you—shit—” the star almost sitting atop, before at the last minute protesting. “I wanted to know if you wanted to spend Christmas with me—with us, me and Pop. At the ranch.”

The star slides into place, sitting more comfortably with another shove, more branch supporting it.

But he doesn’t turn, not immediately. Not as the question hums around him, swirls in the silence of you not immediately saying yes. So much so, that it takes him a second to move on his heels, to face you—to read the answer before it’s delivered.

What he sees is something his heart couldn’t have ever prepared for.

You, grinning—a silly, almost goofy, smile spreading out as you bite down on your lip, forehead slightly crinkled.

“You… you want me to spend the holidays with you?”

“Of course—cariño, I want nothing more than for you to be with me.”

It all quick to leave his mouth, mirroring the movement to be back in front of you, fingers under your chin, lifting your eyes—those beautiful, fucking eyes—to his.

“Do… do you—wanna spend it with me?”

You pull a different face before you’re nodding. One more excited, one which begins to expel out over a smile and a bunch of escaping phrases such as I can’t believe you want me with you and of course.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

Shrugging, you scrunch your nose—an act he finds just as cute as the first time he saw it. “Guess it’s a big deal. It’s… a thing people do with families.”

Pulling you close by your hips, your hand lands flat on his chest. “You are my family.”

“Javi,” you whisper, making each letter feel so individual the way you say it, that it makes his heart double.

“It’s true. You’re it for me, cariño. All I’ve wished for.”

Eyes widening, your eyes shimmer under the lights—more so than normal. Taking a deep breath, you lift your chin before pressing a kiss to his mouth. One which turns hungry, desperate—your mouth searing, a thing he’s craved since he woke up before the sun even rose.

“Baby,” you whisper.

And he hums.

It vibrates out, able to feel it from the way his fingers cup your cheek.

“Undo me.”

Releasing your lips with a pop, he opens his eyes, studying your eyes, moving from one to the other.

“Go on,” you urge in a whisper, more breathless, more tinged with something that makes his skin hot.

Sliding his fingers over the knot, he barely has to tug before it comes undone—unveiling you, like a curtain which wishes to part. If he’d thought you’d looked good before, he’s sure every bit of you is a sin now—a Christmas sin.

Red and lace. It’s all he sees. It sitting there, against you, hugging your breasts—sitting on your hips. His mouth is suddenly dry at the thought of running his tongue over the place it meets your skin before pulling it down.

Your fingers follow his eyes, sliding between the valley to land on the bow in the centre, twisting the edge of the tie around your index finger—palm skating over your stomach, allowing him more chance to take in how you’re stood before him in see-through fabric and promises.

“How’d I get so lucky?” he asks, more to no one, than to you.

His fingers teasing the fabric sat on your hip—marvelling, unsure how to think straight until you clear your throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, tightening your hold on his hands, bringing his arms more around your waist, pressing your front to him, feeling the heat from your skin through your clothes. “You’re all I wished for too.”

Smiling, he looks at your tree, before landing back on you. “You look so good.”

“I know. Could look better though?” His brow arches as you slowly begin to smile, the tip of your tongue sliding over your upper lip. “Everything is held in place by bows.”

Groaning, he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide down your lower back, over sheer material before his fingers find the ribbon on your hip.

“All for you.”

“Mine,” he answers, slotting his mouth over yours—staining the four letters to your lips.

His fingers slide around, brushing over soft skin, until he finds the first bow. Undoing it with ease, licking into your mouth, only to grunt against you when you whimper as the fabric falls to your feet.

“Yours,” you say back, your own hands beginning to undo him.

an: merry christmas, love you

[charlesfoxtrotswife]

my understanding of epithet erased characters view of santa claus

molly - lorelai told her santa isn’t real. she cried herself to sleep that night.

giovanni - he knows santa isn’t real but will live in delusion.

sylvie - pretends he doesn’t believe in santa. absolutely does.

mera - she knows he isn’t real

indus - he does NOT know. mera was the first person to tell him.

every banzai - giovanni is trying to gaslight them into thinking santa’s real. ben is the only one who believes it completely.

percy - she knows he’s fake. she’s percy.

ramsey - he knows santa isn’t real. he’s the type of guy to dress as santa on christmas.

zora - she figured it out when her parents died and all the sudden no more presents.

lorelai - martin told her like a whiiiiiile ago. he did it on accident opposie poopsie.

trixie - believes it. getting skeptical. just thinks they’re on the naughty list.

feenie - ONE BAJILLION PERCENT CONVINCED SANTA IS REAL.

rick - “what is a santa?? a fat man breaks in your house and leaves gifts?? what a joyous holiday!! :3” he’s odd.

stink and stonk - santa defenders till the GRAVE.

yoomtah - knows he isn’t real. doesn’t care. still very merry around the holidays.

naven - knows he isn’t real. FORCED to be merry on the holidays.

bonus- charles and moot - charles knows he isn’t real but still absolutely loves christmas and that mistletoe shit. moot knows he isn’t real and doesn’t really care.

[morganbritton132]

I feel like Steve's non-Upside Down friends definitely have a group chat for all their Steve-based conspiracy theories that's just filled with really off the wall excuses and tidbits that Steve's said - how panicked is the government agent-babysitter about it?

The first-year teachers definitely do, for sure!

The chat was originally called ‘The Steve Harrington Experience’ because every conversation with the man is something else, but they ended up changing it after Kathy pointed out that it made it seem like they all experienced Steve Harrington, ‘Sexually, u know?’

“Yes, Kathy…” Marissa said in an exasperated voice note. She must be driving. “You didn’t need to spell it out. We’re changing it.”  

‘Not saying I’d be opposed 2 the experience,’ Kathy added helpfully in the group chat. ‘U see those trousers he wore yesterday. Not much left to the imagination there.’

‘Thank you, Kathy.’

The group chat was changed to the ‘Support Group for David’s Obsession’ which is just, haha. Funny. David is not obsessed with Steve Harrington. He just isn’t.

Sure, nothing about the man makes any sense.

And yeah, maybe David talks about that fact a little too much. Maybe he has asked the group chat probing questions about Christmas lights. Maybe he even made a dentist appointment with Edward Harrington, DDS just to make sure he wasn’t the Eddie Harrington they knew.

He wasn’t obsessed. He was just due for a cleaning.

The other day in the parking lot after work, Steve asked if David could see the license plate number on the white 2015 Mazda CX-3 that was circling the block. David read the number off for him and Steve wrote it down. He didn’t explain anything.

David texted the group chat about it, ‘Maybe he’s a spy?’

‘Do you think spy organizations sent out a lot of epileptic agents with service animals?’

‘Maybe the epilepsy is a cover.’

Kathy replied, ‘It’s not.’

David kinda hates how he only tunes in to the staff meeting about Career Day when Steve mentions that Erica can’t come. Something about pissing off her constituents by favoring a community in a state she doesn’t represent. Yada, yada, yada, “Dustin’s still coming though.”

“Dustin,” David repeats, feeling the amused way that Marissa is looking at him. He can’t even be bothered by Jordan hiding a smile in her hand. “Your brother is coming to Career Day?”

Steve beams, “Yeah, man. He comes every year.”

Kathy was a second-year teacher that was definitely here during last year’s Career Day. She could have mentioned it. David can’t even fully digest this information when Steve knocks his knuckles against the table and snaps his fingers, “Oh! My ex works for the paper. I’ll see if they can come.”

David somehow gets roped into finalizing the rest of the list of speakers for Career Day (i.e. they need to confirm if Steve’s people are going to be there and Cindy didn’t want to do it). When he stops by Steve’s classroom at the end of the day, he is surprised to find that Steve is not alone.

There’s low music playing from the corner of the room now that the students have gone home and Steve is at his desk grading papers. Eddie is standing at the board, drawing a dragon-like creature with dry-erase markers.

Eddie is humming along to the song on the radio, occasionally brushing his fingers along Steve’s shoulders when he reaches for a new color. It’s a cozy moment and he almost hates to interrupt, but David has leftovers in his fridge that he wants to get home to.

He knocks against the doorframe, “Steve, you have a minute?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asks, leaning back in his chairs far enough that his head brushes against Eddie’s back. “Babe, you remember David from the cookout?”

“The history teacher,” Eddie hums, distracted by his drawing. He erases a line of red from the fangs with his finger. “Stevie’s saying great things about you, kid.”

“I – wow, that’s – thanks! It means a lot! I, uh. I’m finishing up some things for Cindy and she just needs a confirmation on your people for Career….” David trails off when Steve makes a sound between his teeth like a hiss and gives him a big wide-eyed look. “…Day?”

Steve’s wide-eyed expression forms quickly into an innocent smile when Eddie turns to look at him, “Babe-“

“Career Day?” Eddie asked scandalized, hand to chest. “Career Day is coming up, Steven? I had no idea.”

Steve’s eyes flicker away from Eddie’s over to David’s and he says, “Yes. Yep, they’ll be here with bells on. Henderson and Wheeler. Just them.”

“Wheeler?” Eddie manages to sound even more scandalized. “Stevie, you – you invited Wheeler to Career Day and not your own husband? I have a career!”

“Yes, you do,” Steve says in a voice that’s a little too ‘second grade teacher’ to not be a little bit insulting. “And you’re amazing, and I love you, but they wanted people with career paths that didn’t start so…infamous?”

David starts inching out of the room because as much as he wants to know more about Steve, he doesn’t want to witness an argument he started. He’s almost to the door when Eddie says, “I worked for my success.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve sighs like he’s remembering something awful. “If only there wasn’t a mob.”

David is out the door when he hears that and he pauses for only a second before pulling out his phone like, ‘what the fuck, guys????’

[seshathawk]

I’d like to address something from season four that I haven’t seen anyone else address yet, though some people have spoken critically of the plots surrounding it.

A quick caveat: this is based off of my own experiences, and is not by any means an attempt to excuse, forgive, or erase any of the many mistakes that season four made. (This is going to be about parenting, for anyone who would like to avoid said topic.)

Hi. I’m the mother to a 4.5 year old child. When I met my husband, we were both working jobs, although he made more than me. I quit my job eventually for reasons that don’t need to be detailed here, and three years later had a baby and ended up being a stay-at-home mom to our child. At the height of the pandemic, I felt this was lucky; we wouldn’t have to scramble to find child care or anything like that.

Two years later, I was absolutely miserable and a completely different person.

Parenthood changes a person. A lot. Like, a lot. You have to sacrifice things, things that used to be important to you, again and again, in order to support your children, and you do it because you love them so much and you want them to succeed.

But something else happens, specifically to women who become parents. Some women intend to go back to work and never do. In some families, it’s cheaper for mom to provide childcare than it is to pay for daycare. Somehow, women end up being the managers of the household and primary caregiver for any/all children, all day, every day. This isn’t to say that these women don’t love their children. But, rather, that women end up carrying the burden of the invisible load for their entire household, including their husbands.

And this also isn’t to say that those husbands aren’t loving, or that they don’t take care of their kids too, or that these women don’t love their husbands. But it’s a huge burden.

Some examples of the invisible load: meal planning, grocery shopping, packing bags for outings or school, managing the family (kids) schedule, arranging for childcare, managing communication with childcare or school, making all appointments for kids or entire family, planning parties, making holiday (Christmas/Easter/4th of July/take your pick) magic, finding activities for kids to do, packing lunches, restocking things like toiletries or pantry staples, cleaning up clutter or getting family/kids to do same, putting away laundry, doing laundry, and…the list goes on. The list is eternal. There is no end to the invisible load.

And when you’re managing all of this and your husband does things like not know if you have a pantry staple at home, isn’t sure where your child’s clean underwear is, or forgets to do something very simple such as grab extra milk, it’s really easy to feel frustrated and resentful.

This is never explicitly stated in The Umbrella Academy, that this is how Lila feels. But it was pretty obvious to me. Her random statements like, “Why are you doing the cake now?” and “I told you to do the pinata two hours ago!” and “This isn’t about you!” felt true to me. Like, OH MY GOD, I do this every day, HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS SO WRONG. And, also, Diego casually says, “Hey, let’s just up and leave just like the old days, the kids will be fine with your family,” without appearing to have ANY IDEA about what goes into planning for kids to stay with relatives for what has to have been at least two days. (Sidebar: I’m not sure if the writers thought that bit through but I definitely read into it that Diego thinks it’ll be easy to slip away while Lila understands the intense logistics of this suggestion.)

So, when Lila said, regarding book club/undercover operations that she just needed something just for herself, I felt that, SO hard. Because you know what happens when you’re a mom? You’re doing the invisible labor and the emotional labor for (in Lila’s case) a family of five. When you finally have some time to yourself, it’s maybe an hour, and your choices are to try to do something relaxing by yourself, spend time with your husband (who you might resent a little), or do something for the house/family. Getting to escape and do something fun, just for you? That’s SO magical.

I do wish we’d seen more of their domestic life together, because I think that could have said a lot about their relationship. But I didn’t think for one second that Lila was unhappy because Diego is never present and never stops complaining, although I’m sure that’s part of it. I saw instantly that she was unhappy because her personhood has been crushed under the weight of motherhood and wifehood and that she was struggling. And that all she wanted—all any of us in similar situations want—is for her husband to understand that and step up, in a way that husbands really don’t understand, because patriarchy.

Does it mean she’d cheat on Diego? Does it mean she’d cheat on him with his brother? Not necessarily. Does it mean she might look for companionship or friendship elsewhere, outside of her family life? Does it mean she might be happy, for a while, living a more adventurous or quiet life, away from the demands of her family? Maybe! Would have been great if the show had explored that a little instead of turning her into part of a love triangle.

But I thought that Lila, burdened with motherhood in a way that Diego cannot ever truly know (because patriarchy), felt true to me and was one of the highlights of season four to me.

[disarraydoodlez]

Christmas List Erased Day 17: Gingerbread Construction worker Howie! Ngl, I'd love a 3 hour audio track of Howie detailing how to build a gingerbread house, cycling between citing baking steps like safety laws and yelling at people off-screen.

Like I'd prolly pay money for Justice saying things like:

"Alright, now that everyone has there necessary safety equipment, each of you are gonna have to follow my orders explicitly. We ran out of all the white frosting after that stinkin' kid ran in her and drank it all, so we're only left with yellow. Now I know in that context this may be seen as humorous, but we're being paid to build, not laugh. Trixie, your gonna hand me building materials as I plaster the walls together. Molly, I need you to make sure everything is level, because if even a crumb is outta place then this all might come out of our materials budget. Pheonica, you shoul- ..... a... are you EATIN' all our SUPPORT BEAMS?!?....... Trixie, I'm going to need a few drainage rocks"

Trixie: "Your mean the Coco puffs or the Fruity pebbles?"

Howie: "Hand me the PEBBLES"

[irondadfics]

Yoo do u have fics that has the plot where peter gets send out in another universe because everyone is dead in his and in the universe he gets send out is everyone is alive but peter doesn't exist or they don't know peter at all I've seen one fic like this ( it's was Mysterio that killed everyone) and it made me want to read more🥹

hello, are these close to what you are looking for? They’re unfinished but still worth checking out ☺️

Home for Christmas by richieisgayforeddie

Peter Parker doesn't exist any more, well, no one remembers that he exists. After spending his first Christmas utterly alone and without any of his friends or May, Doctor Strange ask Peter for help to fight Wanda. Peter has nothing to lose, but getting accidentally thrown to a different Universe wasn’t on his holiday list The universe seems like his own at first but he soon comes to realise that the Universe just lost his Peter Parker in the final Battle, snapping in Tony's Place. Tony, that seems to be his biological Parent here. Will Peter find his Place in this Universe, or will the Parker Luck continue once again?

Broken Mirrors and Fragile Things by EvieNyx

(I am Peter Benjamin Parker, and I exist.) - - - Three months after his existence was erased, Peter Parker was not doing so well. His solace came from knowing that at the very least he had managed to save his city in the end. Apparently, though, Peter realized as Doctor Strange explained to him that he had to give up even more, losing everything-and-then-some just wasn't enough. OR The multiverse continues to collapse in on itself. Doctor Strange discovers the source of the problem as Peter Parker. The only viable solution is to remove Peter from his original universe so that no more entities will be drawn to his presence there.  Peter is sent to a world that lost its Peter Parker, and finds himself lost in a sea of people he'd grieved who had all grieved him in kind.

Welcome To Mysterio's Marvelous Multiverse by Grace_d

[Endgame compliant, Far from home AU (probably)] NO FFH SPOILERS  “Woah.” Spider-Man breathes. “Trip Advisor did not mention this.” In the middle of the room hangs a flat circle of energy, kinetic electricity twisting from the edges into the centre. Green smoke swirls around it. It's definitely creepy enough to be a portal to another universe. Peter Parker's trip to Europe was supposed to cap off his recovery from the traumatic events of the past (5?) years, kick off his summer vacation and celebrate his decision to return to friendly neighbourhood crime-fighting.  Instead, Nick Fury recruited him for some avenging. Not ideal, not relaxing, and definitely above this web-slingers pay grade. (Was he even getting paid?). So when Quentin Beck AKA Mysterio suggests an alternate universe field trip, it's a hard pass from Spider-Man. He's sticking to the mission. He's got responsibilities at home. Even if it means giving up the chance to see Tony Stark again. Too bad he didn't have a choice in the matter.

They’ll think of me kindly, when they come for my things by Ihearturdadtbh

“A year, nearly a year since he died and you’re trying to tell me he what? Didn’t? Who is doing this to me, who is trying to trick me, who? Who! I know fine well I was the reason for that kids death and so who is tormenting me with his fucking corpse!?” Peter opened his eyes blearily as the imagine of a man settled into view, one he recognised in an instant except for one thing. There was something terribly, terribly “off” about the man made to look like Tony Stark. (Peter accidentally travels to a universe where he died in his battle with the Vulture on the beach, leaving Tony guilt ridden)

[hyperlexichypatia]

**Cracks knuckles and wades into The Discourse**

"Can atheists be culturally Christian?" is entirely the wrong question.

Of course they can! Plenty of people don't believe in the religious doctrines of Christianity, but still do things like celebrate Christmas or Easter, have church weddings, and other culturally Christian activities. Take for example, me -- I'm a Deist who is also culturally Christian. Christianity is the religious lens I understand best, even if I don't necessarily agree with it.

Plenty of atheists and broadly-secular people who live in majority-culturally-Christian places, like most of the U.S., also are often oblivious to the Christian basis of their cultural practices, and may think of culturally Christian practices are "universal" or "secular" or "for everyone." This comes up every time someone brings up the inappropriateness of public schools/places celebrating Christmas, when people come out of the woodwork to insist that of course Christmas isn't religious, they know plenty of secular people who celebrate it! (Note: This is often blamed on ex-Evangelicals, but I don't think that's fair. Ex-Evangelicals know what Christianity is. This is something I see more from people from secular families in mostly-secular areas who don't think about religious diversity because it's not relevant to their lives.) (Additional Note: Do not @ me with "WELL, ACTUALLY, Christmas is PAGAN--" No. Your history is oversimplified and bad. You are not celebrating Yule. You are not celebrating Saturnalia. You are celebrating Christmas, a heavily secularized Christian holiday with some cultural influences from European Pagan traditions.)

Additionally, many atheists/secularists/non-religious-people whose primary reference point for religion is Christianity (whether because they're ex-Christians themselves, or just because that's what they know from cultural osmosis) make broad, inaccurate assumptions about All Religion based on their projected understanding of Christianity, e.g. "I'm not religious because I don't believe that an omnipotent God controls everything in the universe and rewards or punishes people when they die." Okay, cool, but not all religions teach that, not all religious people believe that, not even all Christians believe that.

So, of course atheists can be culturally Christian, maybe without realizing it or thinking about it. Anyone who says they can't isn't paying attention! And that's why "Can atheists be culturally Christian?" is entirely the wrong question.

The right questions are "Is it reasonable to assume by default that anyone who lists their religion as 'atheist' or 'none' must actually be culturally Christian?" and "Is it reasonable to blame anything you don't like on 'cultural Christianity'?" and no! It's not!

Sometimes simply does not have a religious affiliation. And that's okay! There is a tendency to interpret "none of the above" as "Oh, so, the default thing, but a milder version of it," and that is... not accurate.

There's this vague sense that non-religious people aren't really a religious minority, that they're really just play-acting at being religiously marginalized, because after all, they're actually just non-devout Christians. Discrimination against non-religious people doesn't necessarily look the same as discrimination against religious people (like, there aren't atheist holidays that people are being denied time off work for), but it's still very real, and falls the hardest on non-religious people with the fewest cultural ties to Christianity, the very people erased by "Atheists are just cultural Christians" discourse.

Furthermore, the traits and beliefs and ideologies and biases that get called "culturally Christian" are often not actually unique to Christianity at all. Certain concepts, like an emphasis on redemption through death, are culturally Christian (although even that one is sometimes found in other religions), but to hear the people calling everything "culturally Christian" tell it, no other religion, culture, or philosophy on Earth has ever believed in virtue ethics, valued hard work and stigmatized "laziness", or been judgmental about petty infractions. Nor, I can't believe I have to say, is "Christians do it, so it's bad" a good argument against things like freedom of conscience or disability rights (neither of which are even especially popular among Christians).

The problem with way people are talking about "cultural Christians" isn't that atheists or other non-Christians can't be culturally Christian (of course they can) or that Christianity doesn't have pervasive influence in majority-Christian societies (of course it does). The problem is that people are using "culturally Christian" in inaccurate and nonsensical ways.

[anakeakayo]

POV

Character:

Hawks

Best Jeanist

Edgeshot

Kamui woods

Eraser head

Present Mic

Note!

For Kamui woods, I kinda have a hard time of thinking him with lewd... So... Yeah... Plus All might is already retired so, I won't add him thanks. 👍😊👍

Hawks

100% lewd minded

Man is a top, but maybe when he get his KFC his mind is nothing but sweetness. It's easy to seduce him 👍

Okay, so one time you buy KFC for Christmas dinner with him and put it in the fridge, and God dammit he eats it. When you find out, you go to his room and find him sleeping so you handcuffed him to the bed, and you know he has danger senses from his wings, he wakes up immediately*

Hawks: "What-?"

Y/N: "Sleep well?"

Hawks know your punishment to well...

Hawks: "Please don't punish me! I'm sorry!"

At the end, it's him panting, his butt was red, as his cheek was wet

Best Jeanist

Don't need handcuffed he can just use his fiber~

If you don't want to spread your legs he'll make you

If I'm not mistaken his cock is about 10-11.5 inches

He'll fuck you real good until you forgot your name

Edgeshot

Okay so you know his quirk is floda-body right?

Imagine him, handcuffing you to the bed.

Both of you naked

He use his quirk to become a dildo, and go inside of you

And Damn he touch you in the right places!

Kamui woods

I don't know what to think of him with lewd.

I think he would use condoms...?

And maybe if you and him are close, maybe he won't use it

But, just so you know, he use his quirk to spread your legs, pin your hands, and shove one or two inside of you 👍

Eraser head

100% dom, has a pulling hair kink.

He'll definitely fuck you dry

No mercy type of guy

I swear if you did something wrong, he'll definitely pull you into a room/closet/ect. And punish you

If someone interrupted both of you, he'll continue later

A gift from me to you: 🦽

Present mic

100% dirty talk

Btw he is good with his tongue

He is definitely going to eat you up

Most of the time you would sit on his face

And oh for the love of Lord, he touch every single sweet spot that you have, correctly

Thanks for reading!

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Master list

[dimepdf]

★  𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. holiday season is near, whats Christmas without a little drama to stir and a new boo for the mistletoe?

─── ☆ notes. i realized that i missed 3 uploads because none of them queued i'm SICK this tumblr update is tearing me apart and y'all didn't even tell me .

─── ☆ length. 1.6K (16 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. holiday season drama, christmas theme, established relationship, angsty, age gap, asshole boyfriend Gojo, eat the rich, cheating, daddy's money!, sorry gojo girlies, not beta'd put me on the naughty list | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

You were convinced that along with old age came a sour attitude towards the holidays. Sure, Gojo was twice your age and around the same age as your own father, considering the fact that Gojo was the top-paid employee in your father's company. 

When you first started to get comfortable with the fact that you were in a committed relationship with the man, you only wanted him to be your designated booty call.

just someone that you needed to warm up your bed whenever you got a little bored.

He'd slipped through the cracks of your commitment issues, crawling through the shit that you'd put him through just to finally tie you down and agree to the title of his girlfriend. 

But the moment that you two started to spend more time together, it was obvious that you two were two different people going through completely different paths in life.

It was a struggle trying to include each other in the daily routines that the both of you had already settled into, one that would always be the strain that ignited the flame for the main topic for the arguments that you two had. 

As the month crept to an end and it was your first holiday that you two were spending together, you were starting to notice how much of an absolute grinch your grown-ass boyfriend was.

"I don’t understand why I have to dress like we’re going to a fucking gala." Gojo complained for the fourth time, fidgeting with his dark green tie around his neck. The beep of his Mercedes was heard as he locked it.

You hadn't understood why he was complaining so much. The ivy green of his velvet suit not only fitted against his pale complexion, but it matched perfectly with the dark shade of wine red you wore to fit the Christmas theme.

"Stop being such a brat, I never knew you'd passed up the free opportunity to pass on unnecessarily expensive wine and old people talking about their slot shares and other boring shit." You hissed out into the cold air, hugging your jacket closer to your chest for warmth.

The night was young, the sky a darker purple as the moon rose just above in the sky, and down from the clouds fell small specs of white crystals laying against the ground, leaving a small blanket of white on the streets and anything else that it could mark. 

You would have thought it was a scene from a movie if it hadn't been for the hot-headed being erasing all recollections of Christmas joy you had left in your soul. 

"Last I checked, that boring shit is the reason you could even afford to wear that godawful set." Your outfit wasn’t awful: nothing about the dazzling diamond necklace that decorated your collarbone or the white crystals that hung from your ears was anything close to being considered ugly.

"I swear it's like you don't even try to look even close to modest." It just wasn't the dress that Gojo had laid out for you to wear. 

Another reason that you two were arguing would be his completely unbearable, controlling personality, wanting to dress you up and down as if you were his personal Barbie doll.

"Last I checked, my father pays your bills, honey," you scoffed, ignoring his invitation to hold his arm and stomping forward to the door. 

As with the doorman who greeted you by name, your annoyance morphed into a split second of kindness. Not missing the sly smile placed on his lips as he checked you out.

He wasn't bad looking—a tall man with a wide stature and a dark gaze—and if you hadn't had the throne by your side—aka Gojo—you might have given him another look. 

It seemed like Gojo didn't miss that look of reconsideration in your eye, ignoring the man's greeting and barreling through the door with a scuff.

"So now you're going to throw a tantrum tonight, how fucking mature of you," he scoffed, grabbing you by the elbow and bringing you to a halt. 

You stumbled a bit from the force but were used to Gojo's strength enough to stabilize yourself in your heels.

You didn't bother making the confrontation look anything but aggressive, you hoped that someone would get the completely wrong idea just by looking at you glaring up at him. 

Fortunately for Gojo, your father seemed to appear out of thin air, as he looked as graceful and rich as ever.

A man out of a bougie magazine always seemed too dressed to impress.

You were convinced he did it just to remind the other people around him that they could never dream to even make as much money as he would spend in a day.

"Ah, there you are, sweetheart. I was waiting to see when you and Gojo would arrive."

Your father was a stony man, practically always in business mode, ready to give just about anyone that would lend him an ear a nice long ramble about how important it is to stay ahead in life, to never let your self-worth droop, and to especially never let anyone walk all over you, which you found pretty ironic given the type of guy you were dating.

Gojo's expression had changed completely, plastering on that annoying chirper smile as if he wasn't already red in the face and ready to blow up at you.

You two should have gotten Grammy awards for how quickly you could change from the appearance of completely hating each other to looking like the world's star couple as you yanked your elbow from his grasp instead of tucking your arm into his. 

"Hope you found the place quite already. If I knew it was bound to snow this much, I would have moved the date back a bit." You detested small talk, even despised it. 

No matter the person or situation, you could hide the way your smile twitched, your eyes already scanning for an escape. The last thing you wanted to do at a party was talk about the fucking weather.

"Yeah, it was a pretty long drive with the traffic and all, I’m gonna go find the restrooms to freshen up a bit." The excuse was enough for your father to allow you to part ways, slipping away from the conversation with a small hug before your heels directed you straight to the open bar. 

Drinking was a pretty good distraction, especially when you were passed a new glass at the wave of a hand. You had almost felt shame at the side glances the bartender would give you with every shot.

 "Boy trouble?" Anyone but the doorman with the alluring eyes and Chester smile was expected to be sitting next to you. 

Your eyes instantly flickered to the scar that traced just over his lips. He seemed to get a lot of attention from the scar, his tongue swiping over the front of his smile to his cheek once he had noticed your eyes on his mouth.

You weren't sloppy drunk; if anything, you were a bit tipsy, as your party phase definitely raised your alcohol tolerance. "Sorry, what?" you stuttered a bit over your syllables, lashes fluttering as you genuinely tried to recognize the question he asked.

Toji didn't seem phased at all, only biting back a chuckle as he leaned against the bar counter, rotating his entire position on the stool to face you completely.

An extremely attractive gesture of interest that you had checked off on the list of things that he’s done that you found completely hot.

Another thing was the way his head nodded in the direction of Gojo, yet his eyes still stayed on you as if a split second of looking away would miss some little detail about you. "What do you think they're talking about?"

The question had brought a smile to your face, and you were giggling into your drink as you tipped back the glass. "I bet stocks and boring shit." Your thoughts returned to the earlier argument. "A bunch of stuck-up assholes parading around my dad just for a raise." You sighed. 

"I don't blame them, shit might go over there myself if it meant a few months off rent." You felt his hand rest against your thigh, his palm warm to the touch despite standing outside in the snow.

You wondered how he had managed to radiate so much heat from his body, almost like a personal heater, resisting the urge to lean into his chest and nuzzle your face into his chest.

With a glance, you noticed how black seemed to be his color—dark slacks and a button-up shirt that hugged his muscles just the right amount. 

Not enough to tear around the seams, but enough to show that he had definitely bought in a bigger size but had gotten shrunken as he got bigger, or maybe he just didn't know how to wash his clothes.

Either way, you weren't complaining much as he seemed to soak up all the attention you gave him. "You're pretty handsy for a guy I just met."

"And you're just pretty." He had seemed to be leaning in more and more, wanting to get as close to you as he possibly could.

Wanting to know how far he could push you before you would pull away, and maybe it was the alcohol talking or the fact that your asshole boyfriend was just a few feet away, glaring at you from across the room, but something inside of you just seemed to erupt.

“Wanna get out of here?”

tap here to be added to taglist.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 135 thoughts

Akasaka seems to have heard me bitching about other characters not getting involved last week because pretty much this entire chapter is focused on outsider perspectives on the RubyKana conflict, which I actually really appreciate. Not knowing how everyone else was responding to this felt really weird and while I ultimately am glad in hindsight Akasaka used the last chapter to focus exclusively on Ruby and her feelings about Ai, it did still feel really weird in the moment. And there's still no Miyako… girl where did you go…!!!

It's also really nice to get a bit of Aqua and Gotanda time, too — I feel like it's been forever since we've had any time focusing on that relationship and it's one of my quiet favourites in the series so revisiting it now was a nice surprise. We're still pretty locked out of Aqua's head but I feel like his dialogue here speaks for itself without us needing to peek in there. And whether or not he means to, I think Aqua says something really, really revealing here about how he's been dealing — or abjectly failing to deal — with Ai's death.

A running thread through OnK that Ruby is finally starting to come around from is the way the twins have both struggled with their idolization and objectification of Ai and ultimately failed to treat her like a human being. Here, Aqua doubles down on that dehumanization, rejecting the idea of Ai ever having complicated emotions about any of the things that happened to her. He flattens her into a caricature of herself, carefree and avoidant and specifically says that he personally never saw Ai crying. Not even once.

Except… of course he did. Because Ai cried as she told the twins that she loved them as she was dying. The anime even takes this a step further by having Ai break down into sobs during this moment and having her tears literally fall onto Aqua's face as he gazes into her eyes. In denying the existence of these tears, Aqua is also to some degree, erasing those words of pure love that Ai poured out with her last breaths. It feels like a confirmation of something I've been suspecting for a while: that in his fucked up attempts to 'grant her wish' Aqua is even willing to desecrate and erase the real Ai.

In a lot of ways, Aqua is deeply stunted in comparison to Ruby. Honestly I kind of get the feeling that Aqua… doesn't want to humanize Ai? Not out of cruelty but out of seemingly necessarily self defense; if Aqua lets himself love his mom as a human person, if he lets himself love her properly and with empathy then he will necessarily have to finally mourn and grieve for her as a human being and I think that would be the start of breaking him.

What's exciting about this talk as well is that it sets up Aqua and Ruby to be in opposition on something extremely central to the movie arc: Ai herself. This sets up the potential for them to come into conflict and maybe even for Ruby to really lay into him about the exploitative way 15YL is making use of Ai's image.

Final note before I move on: whether this was intended or not, I can't help but see a lot of parallels between Aqua's insistence that Ai would never cry over her treatment in B-Komachi and Nino's rant at the end of 45510 in which she reacts with revulsion at the idea of Ai wanting to connect with them. Aqua/Nino parallels aren't what I was expecting for Christmas but the implications are pretty (discord eyes emoji)

Gotanda's response is interesting, too. He claims that he wrote the script by 'listing the events that actually happened' when we know for a fact that there is a huge amount of dramatization and fictionalization at play just out of the necessity of recreating the events in the life of a person no longer here to give testimony. But he also betrays something here: his own lack of real care towards Ai herself. He dismisses the idea that it's worth trying to understand her feelings after her passing and admits that he isn't really making the movie out of empathy but out of a sense of wanting to capture something he failed to before. This movie is his revenge.

And like… fuck, man. It's just so miserable. There has always been this really ghoulish undercurrent to the entire idea of the Movie Arc, of digging up Ai's corpse again, slicing up her private and most personal self and her painful history that caused her so much shame and dressing it up into something pretty and consumable for the public to salivate over. Even in death, Ai can't rest in peace. Even in death, nobody can just leave her be. She has to be bought and sold and swapped and traded until all the value has been wrung out of her. Nobody making this movie really cares about understanding the real Ai at this point, apart from Ruby; not even the director who wants to be able to film her.

That said. man. the scene that followed was pretty sweet. The idea that Gotanda pulled Aqua into his project not just to give Kana a bit of a wake up call but because he was actually looking out for her and genuinely wanted her to have some friends is a really lovely idea and his sense of relief in seeing her having found a place in B-Komachi was also really good. In a lot of ways, the second generation of B-Komachi may be echoing the mistakes of their predecessors but they're also learning to correct them.

kana's face when she takes a bite out of ruby's parfait is like the hardest i've laughed all week btw god bless mengo yokoyari

The Gillian Cut of Gotanda talking so warmly about RubyKana's friendship to the two girls still being cold with each other is framed as a joke but I do think it's supposed to be read as a reassuring moment for the audience. While Aqua puts forth that his rose-tinted idea of fights making friendships stronger only happens in fiction… Oshi no Ko is fiction. Literally the very first words of the story are that verbatim and it constantly uses in-universe fiction as metatexual commentary on its own nature as a story. More than a joke, this feels like a sort of reassuring pat on the back for the reader that the girls will emerge from this rough spot stronger than before.

Aqua's sense of trust for both Kana and Ruby is really sweet, too. They're two of the people he cares about the most in the world — often to the point of him not being able to trust them, out of fear of the supposed repercussions — but here, he not only steps back to let them handle things themselves but reassures Gotanda that he can do the same. Aqua has been pretty cruel to both these girls in a lot of ways over the series so it was nice to see him express some warmth.

And that's the final chapter of this year…! Jesus I can't believe I only got back into the series back in April lol I really feel like I've been following the weekly chapters for longer. Admittedly, I'm starting to get really fatigued with the Movie Arc with how long it's been going but I'm hoping that we'll start to see some more progress on it when we return in 2024 and that Kamiki will do. Something maybe. can you even imagine.