#FUCK AND I THOUGHT ME SEEING SIMILARITIES WAS INSANE

[gaybonnets]

WERE ANY OF YOU GONNA TELL ME THAT TWENTY ONE PILOTS DID A COVER OF BENNIE AND THE JETS OR WAS I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT BY MYSELF????????

[shalom-iamcominghome]

The most liminal feeling in judaism is knowing history that's deeply shaped jewish communities and yet... nobody but jews talk about it. Obviously, this isn't unique to judaism, but it's a very specific reminder that jewish history matters more to you than it does anyone else

[volfoss]

my #analysis or whatever but its really interesting with how much they cut out of the Jon at the banquet 1x01 scene compared to (at least the leaked version online) the original pilot and book. like not to be like yeah grrm put this much detail in there for a reason but a lot of the detail that they removed really hurts jon as a character and its so jarring to see how much they cut to take the chapter down to about 3 minutes of the episode.

[suffarustuffaru]

this may be my like third ottosuba post in a row but like hear me out okay like theres something about how varied their dynamics are in each if. like its about the inherent tragedy of it all - the "you ruined my life" and "you betrayed me" and "you've hurt everyone around us and theres nothing i can do, so goodbye forever" and "i hope you rot". its the forced subservience that pride otto and wrath otto have to have, except wrath otto breaks free of it and indulges in just stabbing subaru, knowing subaru's going to die anyway. pride otto serves subaru, knowing he's marching towards his grave, knowing he's aiding subaru in all his crimes, knowing he doesn't have the energy to care anymore. greed otto has watched subaru manipulate everyone around them and he's had enough - they were almost friends, and otto WANTED to be friends, wanted to BELIEVE they were friends, but it was never the case. and so he leaves behind the first person he ever considered a friend, along with the camp he could've befriended too. and then theres gluttony otto - an otto whos become friends with subaru, an otto that has subaru as his closest friend, an otto whos found community in the emilia camp and has garfiel as his younger brother and cares about all these people so much. and then subaru destroys all of them, and it's just otto and garfiel left until subaru destroys garfiel too along with ottos younger brother regin, meaning subaru killed two of ottos brothers in one fell swoop. subarus this twisted version of himself now, claiming that he destroyed priestella and so much of the people within it so he could get to OTTO. it's like rubbing salt in the wound - in some fucked up way, otto is now the biggest priority in subarus life. like most people in the if routes, otto gets crushed just like any other victim of subarus plans and decisions, but in gluttony if he still decides to keep his bravado and anger and his last words are LITERALLY "eat shit, you phony". he damn well knows theres no hope for him and he still decides to go out fighting. ottosuba in each if really is just. theres a violence to it - and not just literal violence, i mean as in gluttony if subaru considers otto a threat, and otto is also someone who has a lot of memories specific to him about subaru. pride subaru is basically otto's second "master". otto steals power away from wrath subaru by helping in taking him down. otto completely disregards greed subaru and avoids the same fate as the rest of emilia camp by REJECTING subaru when the whole point was subaru being GREEDY. subaru couldnt keep otto with him, while otto managed to break free of subaru.

it's about the power dynamics of it all - especially when BOTH of them are capable of the same manipulation and mind games.

[ordinaryschmuck]

With Gooseworx all but confirming that the Jax being an AI thing is bullshit, I personally want to talk about an interesting part about Jax that a lot of theorists used as "evidence" that validates the theory:

Jax's fourth wall breaks are a common topic brought up amongst the "Jax is an NPC" theory. After all, Caine broke the fourth wall in the pilot, knowing full well that the world of The Amazing Digital Circus isn't real and is talking to some unseen viewer as he introduces the Circus Crew.

There's also this bit of official art surrounding Jax's pin:

Where everyone else is inside their room, Jax is outside as pieces of the circus fall apart around him and all of reality to crash. Certainly lends itself to this idea that Jax knows he's not a real person and that his presence could cause great disruption to this world. And he doesn't care because none of it is real. Might as well have fun and cause chaos in a world that doesn't exist.

And I'll admit, all of this seems like valid claims for how the theory could be true. I saw it all and thought that it surely COULD be possible...but there are some things that stop me from being convinced.

Firstly, Caine breaking the fourth wall in the pilot doesn't really seem like an AI talking to the audience. It looks more like an AI programmed to talk to a player as a game boots up. What we saw in the opening could be more like a morning routine that he has to do at least once a day. Plus, we've yet to see any other NPC talk to the audience like Jax has. He explicitly called out the viewers in episode three, knowing full well he's being watched by SOMEONE. Or, at the very least, acting like he is. What do I mean by that? Well, to explain, I'd like to use one of my favorite fourth wall breakers as an example:

Deadpool, in most adaptations, knows fully well that he's a fictional character. He'll talk to the readers/viewers, move the camera around, and constantly talk shit to the writers/studio for occasionally screwing him over. It's all in good (Sometimes bloody) fun...but there's a canonical reason for this. It's not like She-Hulk where the fourth wall breaks are a way to tell HER stories HER way. You see, Deadpool...is just fucking insane.

No, really, that's the reason. Due to the trauma of gaining his powers, Deadpool's mind breaks and he's led to believe that he MUST be a fictional character. In comics, he actually gets voices in his head that makes him think he must be some comic book superhero, and the movies implied that something similar happened given how he never broke the fourth wall ONCE before getting his powers. This means him breaking the fourth wall could be seen as a coping mechanism. After all, it's better to believe you're a fictional character designed to entertain some invisible audience than believe that all of the shitty things that happened to you and people close to you is just a cruel joke from the universe.

Sound familiar?

Going back to the pilot, remember how Pomni's first instinct was to say that the Circus was all just a dream? To her, it's better to live in a lie that everything around her isn't real than to accept the reality that she's stuck in digital purgatory. Jax very well could be going through something similar, but unlike Pomni who seemed to just accept her reality, Jax never did. The trauma of being stuck in the Circus had led to his mind breaking just like Pomni's, Kinger's, and anyone else's. It's just that, for him, he thinks he's coping with it better because he discovered the secret that no one else did: None of this is real.

They're not actually people trapped in some hellscape while an AI unintentionally tortures them. They're all just fictional characters whose tragedies and silly antics are used to entertain viewers. I mean, it's either that or they're real people forever trapped in the circus with the closest thing to death being a full, psychotic break as they give up their sanity because they no longer want to exist in this hell anymore...But that possibly can't be true. Because if that IS true, then Jax has to face that he's a real person stuck in a real, awful situation that he can't joke his way out of. So, it's best to think nothing is real and nothing they do matter. So, might as well have fun with it.

Going back to the pin...

I don't think this is damning evidence about Jax being an NPC. Actually, it perfectly captures who he is as a character. He knows the circus isn't real. He even thinks HE isn't real. So instead of grappling with that, Jax lets himself believe that if nothing is real than nothing he does matters. He can break things, ruin lives, and assist in torturing the others in the circus. It's what he thinks will make the show more entertaining, even though all he's really entertaining is himself so his mind doesn't break more than it does.

Now, could the same apply if he's an NPC? Well...maybe. Gumigoo definitely proves how far someone could fall when they're told their world is fake. He was about ready to give up on life because he didn't think he had one. If Jax was an NPC, I could see him having a similar break, but going in the far opposite direction where, instead of giving up on life, he chooses to live the way HE wants it. Instead of being some one-off NPC for a lame adventure, he could go off on adventures of his own and ruin the lives of others now that his is thoroughly ruined.

However, Gooseworx makes a good point: "...a lot of people come up with theories based on how unexpected they'd be, and not because they make sense or align with the show's themes."

If Jax is an NPC, it would harm the overall message of the show. That there's meaning to be found in a stagnant life, and you find that meaning with people close to you who make that life worth living. Jax represents a sort of foil to that idea, with his way of coping with the madness being pure chaos and breaking others. It's his coping mechanism, and it works because it shows how human Jax really is. They're ALL human and they have human desires and wants, with the Circus pretty much stripping that away and leaving them...as they are now. They're emotionally broken, their sanity is decreasing, and some of them are losing all sense of self. By making Jax an NPC, it would definitely be surprising, but it would take away from that idea. It no longer makes him a human facing his own tragedy but instead an AI that's just as broken as Gummigoo. More than that, it gives the others an easy out. All the crew has to do is tell Caine that Jax is an NPC and POOF! No more annoyance. So making him someone who HAS to stay with the others and they're forever forced to deal with him also adds more to THEIR tragedy and torture.

Jax being an NPC is an interesting theory, but I don't think it's one that SHOULD be true. To me, it's more fascinating watching Jax treat the world around him as meaningless knowing he's a human instead of a rogue NPC breaking everything. And Gooseworx made it clear how they feel about it. Now, could it potentially be a mislead to get fans off the trail? Genuinely...I don't think so. That sounded very "I don't like this idea so it's not gonna happen" type of response. Still, we won't know until the show wraps up. Anything can happen, but don't get your hopes up if a character who does bad things to people that don't deserve it is more human than you think.

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki + reader!Quirk similar to him

Your first year at UA was going amazingly. Not only because it meant it was one step closer to your dream of being a hero, it also brought new challenges and new people into your life. You have made two new best friends: Gouna, a tall girl with an elastic type of Quirk, and Zynu, an exchange student from Greece, who had a fast Quirk. Literally, she was freaking fast.

The first semester of school consisted in getting to know each of the classmates and oneself. Training, studying, physical tests in groups. Also boring tests like Maths and English.

But it has been magnificent so far.

Until the training camp. Pushing one's Quirk to the limit had literally brought you to tears. Being a cold type of quirk yourself, you never thought you would be able to do what you were doing. But you gave your all, like always. You were focused. Witty and ready. Ready to fight for that number one spot in the rankings at every moment of your life. And very loud about it too.

"She reminds me of someone…" Kan-sensei once commented to Aizawa-sensei, smiling amused.

Your black haired teacher rolled his eyes, "Please, no…"

You didn't know who they were talking about at the time, but whomever they were, you decided you would be fucking better.

That camp had been one hell of a test for everyone. 

Or so that's what all of you thought until the day to meet the Big Three came.

Despite other previous years, these Class 1s, A and B, hadn't met them until closer to the end of their first year. Apparently, they had been on a mission in another country.

"Can you believe it??? They haven't even graduated yet and they already go on missions!!" Zynu exclaims, giving little fast jumps as the whole classes 1-A and B awaits for the Big Three to arrive at Gym Gamma.

"Well, our little Y/N has nothing to envy them, right?" Gouna lays her forearm on one of your shoulders, making you smile.

"Ughh, I still can't believe Hawks himself asked you for help…" Zyna smiles so happy for you, her hand grabbing yours and shaking it way too fast in excitement. Gouna laughs at the way your one fast and joyful friend pulls you.

"She was only called because Hero Shoto wasn't around to help."

The annoying voice behind you makes you groan.

"Don't you have anything else to do than to prove how very in love you're with my friend here?" Gouna's words make you snort before turning around.

Hamata Aiko, the one guy that always has an opinion about you –a bad one, if you may add– stands there, all bulky, full of himself and annoyingly looking down at you like you're scum, with hands closed in fists.

"All of you are going to be in love with me once I take down all three of the Golden Trio…" He declares, flexing his arm so his bicep pops out even more. Disgusting.

The look you share with your two best friends, followed by a cackle of loud laugh, brings the attention of most students around.

"I'll bring tissues for when you cry like a baby after being embarrassingly defeated. But that was a great joke, Aiko-chan," you can hear the grit of his teeth at your mockery.

A huge shadow with red eyes suddenly appears behind Hamata. "A joke indeed," the low voice that came from the shadow makes this same boy jump away like a scaredy cat.

You back away a few steps just so you don't get stepped on. Light then clears everyone’s vision and you see this man– this mountain of a man, with red eyes and blond hair, a few steps in front of you. You can’t help but think he’s insanely huge, more than anything you could have ever imagined. And the other two guys that also appear on each side of this blond mountain are just as big. Maybe not in muscles and height, but each of them has a powerful energy and stance that immediately makes you succumb to their glorious presence.

Like… fuck. Like fucking heroes! The biggest ones you have ever seen. Ever been in front of.

And you want that. You want that majestic power. That strength that makes everybody believe and trust that they are the best.

"Hello, everyone! It's very nice to meet you finally!" The green haired one greets enthusiastically as the blond mountain rounds him to let him stand in the middle. You also noticed how the blond one and the duo colored haired one stand two steps behind, giving this greenie one space, giving him the lead. "We are very sorry it took us this long to meet, but we hope to make the best of our time together!"

"He's too much of a sunshine," Gouna whispers at you and Zyna, the latter smiling and nodding. You somehow doubt it. Something tells you he is as deadly as his two companions look.

"My name is Midoriya Izuku, hero name: Deku," lots of whispers and gasps from the students are heard as he turns to his right, where the blond mountain stands with his arms crossed over his big chest, a frown deep in his face, "this is Bakugou Katsuki, hero name: Dynamight," some grunts and groans are heard. You even hear a kid say "this is going to fucking hurt", and you definitely feel that. Especially when you see the satisfying smirk on the blond mountain's face. "And, this is Todoroki Shouto, hero name: Shoto."

More whispers and grunts. Some look excited, others are already lamenting getting to class today. But most of the students are terrified. These Big Three look nothing like third year students. They look fucking Pro, and that shit’s scary. Not even your first day as an intern in Gang Orca’s agency made you this uneasy. (And it’s Gang Orca we are talking about!)

"It's Endeavor's kid," Gouna whispers, eyes open wide in excitement looking at Todoroki Shouto. Her biggest dream is to be part of the fire hero agency, but she had told you how that was a mere dream considering how Hero Endeavor only took fire type Quirks in. You feel sad for her, but still encourage her to at least try it. The “NO” was already a given; what harm could be to try for the “YES”?

Of course, you all have heard about the rumors circling the Big Three and their achievements. You are a liar if you say that, even if they are supposedly rumors, their stories don't ignite a spark of hope and admiration over them. However, being in their actual presence is a whole different feeling.

"So today, we are fighting," Midoriya Izuku smiles, but surprisingly enough for everyone except you, the kindness doesn't reach his eyes. His eyes change demeanor and look challenging, a bit scary even. (Ha! You knew it! He isn't as sunshinie as he looks.)

"We did this exact same exercise with the current Big Three of our first year, but this time we decided to give you all a bit of advantage, uniting both classes for the exercise, so you can have the upper hand." The shiny smile doesn't leave his face, and while most around you sigh in relief, you know right then and there is a fake sense of security. It's a trap.

And by the way some unnoticed snorts are heard from behind greenie, it's more than obvious.

This will definitely hurt.

You realize then, as Midoriya Izuku takes his bow and school jacket off and steps back closer to his own classmates, how his other two companions are getting ready. Todoroki Shoto hasn't his jacket nor his school shirt on already, but a sport kind of shirt that accentuates his defined chest, where the sleeves only cover a bit of his shoulders, arms on display. This is definitely strategic for his own quirk, half hot and half cold. You wonder if the material is actually made to bear and endure the changes of temperature in his body, like the ones you wear. Bakugou Katsuki, on the other hand… Holy. Mother. Of. All Might. He now stands with his whole school shirt unbuttoned, chest and muscles and freaking abs on display, sleeves rolled up his forearms, jacket lost somewhere. You haven't actually had time to admire any type of physics in boys since the year started, being completely focused on your goals and dreams. Now, this hot mountain of a man makes you feel things you haven't before. Is that the feeling of butterflies on your stomach as the tingles travel through your body? Fuck, it’s distracting. (Very much so.)

You have to mentally slap yourself to focus. This is not the time to drool over an upperclassmen.

"This is your moment to try your moves and Quirks, they will gladly take them and give you feedback. But remember, this is a sparring, nothing to seek real harm. Have fun, children," Aizawa-sensei speaks as he walks towards the entrance door of the gym and stands there, away from the bloodbath that is about to happen. (If you had to define what betrayal looked like, Aizawa-sensei’s smirk as he stands there looking should be it.)

You, in a very calculated and dissimulated way, grab both of your friends' wrists and pull them back slowly, away from where the Big Three stand. They don't say anything and follow you. After so many group tests passed, you three have learned to work together very well. And with one look, all three of you understood. If you wanted to at least hit one of them, you would have to be a team. No solo fight could win them. And even then, there was no guaranteed win over them. They look, and you're pretty sure they are, very strong.

All three of them crouch a bit, showing they are ready, evil smiles plastered in their faces like they enjoy each and every little sound that showed how scared the two classes were. 

How sadistic. You love it.

You so want to fight at least one of them, one on one. But you know you don't have a chance to win moving on your own. Yet.

"Should we go first?" Deku suggests, seeing how no young student is brave enough to approach.

It's not that you are not brave. You're not stupid enough to volunteer for death first.

Dynamight and Shoto look at each other for a moment before looking back to the front, both smirking, and then the blond mountain yells, "FUCKING DIE, EXTRAS!"

A blast clouds everyone's sight for a moment, before you have to jump to the side as Shoto slides with his ice way too close to you. And then it's chaos. Quirks and fights are seen and heard around. And fuck, you have to dodge Shouto's ice three more times. Not to mention his fucking fire.

Your best friends and you remain as far from the Big Three as you can. Gouna got caught by a little piece of ice from Todoroki on her right cheek, cutting it a bit. Zyna, on the other hand, in these kinds of environments gets anxious, moving rapidly on her spot, needing release to do something in her fastness tempo. You… you get calculating and observing. Everyone around is losing against the Big Three. They are too strong, too big. Students are falling to the ground like levees, no matter how strong some of their Quirks are. These three professionals know what they are doing and how to do it.

It's going to take more than just guts to confront them.

Then you see it. Shoto is standing close to Dynamight. And if he moves, he comes back closer to the blond as fast as he can. Oh. Are they guarding each other's backs? Your eyes travel around the gym until you find Deku on the other side of the gym, fighting at least a dozen of the students, who are trying to get their one on one sparring. Of course, none of them win, other than detailed observations from the one third of the Big Three and a punch that knocks them out. 

An idea then surges in your head. The one creating way too much chaos is Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe, just maybe, if there's a way to distract Todoroki Shouto, you could have a chance to at least try to take Dynamight out.

Alright, maybe not completely out, but at least a punch or two. That would be satisfying enough.

Your eyes travel to your two best friends, and somehow –even though none of you have any telepathic Quirk– you all know what to do.

You three high five together before running to different parts of the gym. You run towards the build up rocks behind and explode some to create more small and medium ones. While doing this, Zyna is smartly distracting both third year students. Running, flying around them to just annoy them as they try to attack her with their Quirks, which is impossible to target her for how fast she is. Once you're done, Gouna is right there, arm expanding to create like a catapult to throw the rocks in their direction.

"Hey!" Deku yells, but he's been held back by his own fights to do anything. It's enough though to grab his other two classmates' attention.

It's your turn to smirk now at their surprised expression, excitement driving your whole system.

Bakugou's eyes find yours as you say, "Now you fucking die."

The rocks fly their way faster than they expect. Both of them fire at them to disintegrate the rocks into ash. And that's exactly what you wanted to happen. The ash creates a wall of smoke that won't let them see either of you.

Zyna helps Gouna to run fast towards Todoroki Shouto so she could evolve him with her elastic arms and legs, putting him out of the fight. One down.

And you… Fucking. Damned. Shit. Why do you always pick the hardest and most difficult fights? You don't know. But you always win. So, could you win against this big mountain?

Only one way to know…

The smoke helps you disguise yourself in it, but you can feel his careful and ready at all times stance. So you play. A spark of explosion from your ice here, and he answers with another of his own fire one. Creating more smoke. Funny. Another spark of your ice there, and he answers again, groaning in annoyance and pain when a sudden spark of your ice finds his left forearm.

"FUCK! FACE ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

You chuckle maliciously from behind him, right at the moment your ice explosions hit the back of his knees. You're not stupid to even think that you'll be able to win a one on one. You need the advantage in height at least.

How's the saying goes? If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain… Or well, in this case, you'll make Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Hero Dynamight come to you.

Before Bakugou inevitably falls after that cold blast against the back of his knees that unbalanced him, he tries turning around and shooting whomever it's being a pain in his ass. He doesn't count with the knowledge of how small you are compared to him that you fit perfectly in between his stretched arms that are ready to shoot.

As he falls back, your crazed smile is the last thing he sees before an explosion of white and cold happens just in his goddamn face.

A hard and strong thud is heard as the smoke around finally dissipates, giving one impressive image that leaves everyone around stoic and in silence.

Bakugou Katsuki is laying on the floor. You're kneeling on his big chest, hands with spreading cold smoke, like snow, right at his face. His expression is one of complete taken aback and surprised. Like, he can not believe what just happened, as the smirk it's still on your face.

"Who's the fucking extra now?"

You're both inhaling rapidly, trying to bring your breathing back to normal. Your eyes won't leave his, completely enraptured in his deep ruby color, filled with so much fire it feels like he's trying to melt you. (And you would, if these were other circumstances.)

You then stand up and step back from him, smiling. You fucking won! And against this enormous and angry mountain! Fuck yeah!

He’s still lying on the floor, looking very surprised, so you laugh as you stretch a hand to help him up. Bakugou Katsuki takes it, a little side smile finally appearing as he shakes his head and stands. Now you definitely have to look up at him. Jesus, he’s way taller now up this close.

Before any of you says something, the annoying voice of Hamata Aiko says, "You're still an idiot," and he punches you on the side, making you literally fly meters away and hit your head with the wall.

The roaring scream of "HEY!" from several people is the last thing you hear before passing out.

.

When you next wake up, you encounter the kind smile of Recovery Girl.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you feeling? You took one hell of a punch…"

You groan. "Ugh, don't remind me… I'm going to fucking…"

"Language, dear."

"...kill him to pieces!"

She chuckles amused. "Alright, but first, you should rest. Then kick his butt." Her wink makes you smile in content as you relax in the infirmary bed.

"There are people outside waiting for me to report to them. Want them to get in, or should I tell them to come later?"

"It's okay, they can come in," you nod delicately, not wanting a new headache to deal with.

When Recovery Girl said they, you were expecting your two best friends. Not the Big Three entering the room in a hurry, especially the first one, the blond mountain who enters and walks directly at your side.

"How are you, Coldie?" Bakugou Katsuki asks, his big and calloused hand landing over your small one laying on the bed. You pull up an eyebrow at his nickname for you, but don't comment on it.

"I'm fine, Mountain. My left side still hurts a bit, but I have had it worse."

Bakugou Katsuki growls. Literally, like an angry dog.

“That kid was completely out of line,” protests Todoroki Shouto.

You sigh. “It’s Hamata Aiko. He needs to be the center of attention or he snaps.”

“I’ll snap him in two, give me a minute…” You don’t know if Bakugou it’s being serious or not, but the idea makes you snort as Midoriya Izuku exclaims, “Kacchan!” Todoroki just shakes his head and a small curve of a smile in his face.

“He’s being talked down to by Nezu-sensei. What he did… It's not okay at all. I hope he reconsiders his actions.” Midoriya says, in a stern but worried tone.

“What you and your friends did, on the other hand, was pretty impressive,” Todoroki says as both of his classmates nod, Midoriya more enthusiastically.

“I have never seen Kacchan so taken aback!”

“Shut up, nerd!”

“You were smart and fast and careful with all your moves. You took into consideration how different Kacchan was physically compared to you and you brought that to your own advantage! It was the true thinking of a hero in a dare situation! We were all impressed!” Midoriya rambles, his eyes shining now in true awe.

“Not to mention how in sync you and your friends were. I never expected being gripped like that by arms and legs functioning like ropes. It was funny, and smart,” Todoroki also comments while Midoriya nods in agreement.

You feel the tears in your eyes itchy, so you look down in shyness and smile.

“I… I just looked. Midoriya-senpai was on the other side of the gym, being held back by students so I knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything,” you look elsewhere but them, which is the window next to your bed, “and then I looked how Todoroki-senpai and Bakugou-senpai kept being close to each other, clearly looking for each others back, so I thought that the best option was to try and separate them. By looking at Todoroki-senpai using his quirk, I knew he was avoiding close contact combat, so I guessed that was his weakness. At least if you take him by surprise. So, I knew my friends were gonna be able to catch him. Me, on the other hand, I didn’t know what I was gonna do. I just knew I was gonna give my all to win.”

You finish shrugging, taking a deep breath to finally get the courage to look in the way the Big Three are standing.

They all look at you in complete amazement, pleased smiles on their faces.

“Another nerd alert,” Bakugou comments and Todoroki laughs.

Midoriya looks in reprimand in Bakugou’s direction, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, that nerd took you down very easily, without counting the times I also took you down…”

Todoroki then passes an arm around Midoriya’s shoulder in clear partnership as he prepares to pester Bakugou.

“There’s the fact that she is younger than you, Kacchan…” You think Hero Shoto has a death wish.

“I will blow both of your heads off,” Bakugou responds in a growl, pops already sounding from his hands. Both of his classmates snort in amusement.

Oh, yep, they all have a death wish.

“Oh! That reminds me…” Midoriya suddenly changes the subject, “Your Quirk.”

His eyes open wide and look at you in expectation. You tilt your head to the side a bit confused as you put your palm up and then make sparks of blue and white pop as the temperature around you gets colder.

“It’s a lot like yours, Kacchan, but…”

“Cold. Your explosions are cold.” Todoroki says, directing his hand from his cold side closer to your palm so he can feel the sparks.

“Did they discover how it’s produced?” Bakugou asks, looking very serious in your direction. But he isn’t angry, he’s just observing.

You shake your head. “They said it’s a composition of two or more chemicals, but they still can’t find which ones create this type of reaction.”

“That is a very important thing to know. I would investigate a bit if I were you. Knowing your Quirk to the fullest, even the small things, helps you be aware of the possible weaknesses and advantages you can have. That way you can be prepared at all times.” The professional tone in Bakugou’s voice leaves you mesmerized. He is… good. What he’s saying is so true, you haven’t actually thought about it.

“But, the doctors…”

“Doctors sometimes know shit.”

Midoriya physically slaps his own forehead while saying, “Kacchan..”

“He can’t help it. He’s an ass.” Todoroki snorts.

Bakugou decides to ignore them, not before stabbing them with his glare.

“What I’m fucking trying to fucking say,” you laugh at his foul mouth. He smiles a bit in your direction, “is that go beyond. You take the initiative to learn. Don’t wait for the teachers or doctors to tell you who you are.”

You can’t believe the Bakugou Katsuki is actually being nice and giving advice to you.

“You know who you are… Fucking number one, ain’t ya?” You nod smiling as he extends his hand closed in a fist so you can bump yours with his.

Midoriya’s big and proud smile makes you shy. And it's funny when he exclaims, “Plus ultra!”

Everyone laughs.

And, boy… Did you go plus ultra.

a.n; this will have a part two. 😉💥♥️❄️

[risuola]

III — GAMBARE, GAMBARE // In the world of crime and blood, Sukuna knows what's off limits. You certainly are one of those things and yet, he's unable to stop thinking of you.

contents: smut, little angst-ish in some places, mafia!au, unprotected sex, a hint of body worshipping, violence, mentions of death, subtle threats, reader discretion is advised — 3,2k words

a/n: third part, thank you so much for support guys! it means the world to me to see how INSANELY big is the tag list now. i literally love y'all~ ❤️ also, just as the first part got inspired by the absolutely menacing quote from our king, it only felt natural to include the famous gambare, gambare (do your best) into this one.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna prefers to think of himself as one of significant intelligence. Over the years, during which he ruled over the entire criminal milieu, he proved himself to stand atop of anyone who dared to even think of overturning his jurisdiction. All the exceptionally dumb bold ones that once wished to take the position of a boss from his hands had learned the hard way why troubles with Sukuna Ryomen are the least desirable fate of anyone who bears any volume of oil inside their brains.

It’s not only tactical or business intelligence that he’s priding himself with. It’s also the excessive knowledge about general rules of life that allowed him to comfortably push and pull the edges of what’s right and wrong, bending his own reality to his liking. Now it’s intuitive – he just knows where he can put more pressure and where it’s not worth his time. He knows what to bet his money on and what won’t realistically pay back. And most importantly, up until that point, Sukuna thought he can tell with his eyes closed which people he should consider crossing paths with, what men can be useful whilst he aims to reach his targets and which crowds he shouldn’t mess around with – for various reasons, most of which being just business and inconvenience. Same thing concerns women. Ryomen’s position works like a magnet and not a day passes by without girls, often way too young to even think of him, throwing themselves at him, led by fantasies of money and power veiled in the shades of love. If he wished, he could have a different toy every time the night falls and if he’d be just slightly less trained, he might have fallen for the temptation. But he didn’t.

Sukuna learned it from experience, not exactly his own, but of his pawns, that allowing random women in the proximity of their profession usually leads to catastrophes. Girls get persistent, they grow attached, they fall in love sooner than it’s even logical and then they threat, they blackmail; all of which eventually leads to their deaths because dealing with just barely adults that weaponize tears and screams is something he doesn’t allow in his circle. There were no exceptions, any man bearing similar power to Ryomen knows that there’s no place for romance in the world of death and bones, the one that’s stained in red and sorrow. If there happens to be love, it’s always of people from inside the criminal circle, sharing the same set of broken morals. Mafia should never tie itself romantically with civilians. Especially him, the leader, the menace that he is in the world of misdeed, murder and corruption, knew all too well why he should never, ever, even think of someone from outside of his tale as of anything more than one time plaything. That would be irresponsible, straight up naïve. It would be foolish. He knew all of that and not even once he felt any need to engage into any kind of relationship with someone that he deemed non-profitable to his general targets.

Then why the fuck he kept thinking of you? Why he kept seeing you after what was supposed to be a fun one-time fuck? Why did the taste of your lips and the sweet scent of your skin made him so completely addicted that he couldn’t focus on his own business without his mind wandering to the memory of you at least once an hour? He just liked your body, he told himself every time he thought of sending you a message. You were a good lay, it was purely physical. You did, after all, take his dick like you were born solely for this very purpose. He was meeting you only for sex and it was an accident that some of these meetings began with a dinner. All of the gifts he showered you with were just a form of payment for the service. Sukuna knew much better than to let his emotions take control of him.

“What’s on your mind?” Your quiet voice tore Ryomen out of the realm of his self-criticism. The tone that you spoked with was raspy, the testimony of the rough, throat-fucking he had used you for just few hours prior, and yet, it still somehow flowed with cottony softness, so characteristic to you.

“Nothing important,” he replied bluntly, lowering his gaze to where your face was buried into the broad muscle of his chest; your frame completely hidden in his own, much larger and stronger. It was another night you spent in his house, one of those that began with the reservation in one of Tokyo’s best restaurants that served traditional Japanese cuisine. You showed up in a dress made of dark olive silk, long enough to reach your high-heeled sandals and clinging to your shapes as if it was made to be worn over the divinity that was your body. The long, scandalous slit exposed one of your legs and the thin straps accentuated your shoulders and cleavage just perfectly. It was a dress that he himself bought and ordered to be delivered to you in an expensive box before that day. Now that very same gown was laying somewhere, discarded on the floor in the living room of his mansion.

“Sometimes I feel like you’re plotting my death,” you chuckled against his skin, the vibration of the act made him scoff because both him and you knew that the scenario you offered wasn’t exactly falling into the realm of fiction.

“If I were to kill you, I wouldn’t need to plot it. One bullet is all it would take,” he retorted with calm and despite any logic, instead of creating some distance, instead of running away you hummed at his statement and pressed your lips to the center of his chest.

You were way over fearing Sukuna and his world. The few months that you spend seeing him, you came to terms with the heavy weight of tragic fate that was now resting on your shoulders. It couldn’t end well, you shouldn’t tangle yourself with a man such as him, the path of your normal life should never come even close to the blood tainted one he was walking through. You should have never left the club with him and once you did, you should have run out his house the moment he gave you a chance. Instead of that, you stayed. That night, after the time of Ryomen’s pursue and the unfortunate event with Naoya and his gang, soon turned into two. Then just few more and then many more. The one-night stand evolved into continuous romance and though it was strewn with roses and intimacy, it came also with the realization that the more you see him, the less days you have left. There was no way for someone like you, an outsider, the mere civilian with no mafia bonds whatsoever, to be living a long life. Sukuna has enemies, there are people that want the power he holds and will eventually target you. That is, of course, if he doesn’t kill you himself over time – out of boredom or prevention. You knew a lot, he had told you more than he should.

But you loved him. You had seen him do some pretty dark things that would make most people’s eyes water, and in all honesty, it did the same thing to yours, but then, with you, Sukuna was always protective. You loved the way he always seemed to know just what you needed, the way he read you like an open book and knew just what to say or do to put you at ease. You loved the way he made you feel like the only woman in the world, how he made you feel beautiful, even on the days you felt like a total mess. He was a danger, a threat so deadly you shouldn’t play with it, he was a flame that you were bound to burn yourself on, but he was also the only person in the world you felt so safe around. Ever since you met, he had protected you. Even if his words were harsh and his own deeds rough, he never failed to envelop you in a bubble inside of which nothing and no one could hurt you.

“Oh, how much you’d miss me,” a certain sense of amusement hinted in the tone you used as the sheepish smile stretched your lips. Ryomen acted suddenly, grabbing the tiny thing that was your body and pressing your back to the mattress. His fingers wrapped around the frail of your neck; it wouldn’t take much of his strength to snap it and yet, you seemed rather comfortable with his grip secured around your airways. Over the time you managed to grow enough trust to know he won’t hurt you for no reason. Your lover was a man powerful enough, there was no need for seeding fear in you. You were also smart enough to differentiate the real danger from the playful acts. If Sukuna truly wanted you to be scared, you most definitely would be scared shitless.

“You think so?” His tone dropped an octave as he crawled above you; your bare figure now trapped underneath the weight of his presence. He got your legs between his initially, the heavy shaft of his dick rested over your lower belly as he shifted his hand from your throat down to cup your breasts. Your body seemed to never stop attract him, no matter how many times he touched and tasted it. You looked almost angelic in the dim light of that morning; the remnants of sleep still painted over your features and the only things that disturbed the innocence of your picture were the marks he had left on your plush, velvety skin. Red and angry spots that he sucked onto your flesh adorned the beauty of your frame, ultimately making you his own. “Aren’t you a little too confident?”

“I think I’m confident just enough,” you grinned playfully, smoothing over his hands, one staying on top of his palm on your breast and the other reaching up his arm to touch more of him. There was always a hunger lingering inside of you, you were never completely satiated and even if your body was utterly exhausted, you were always happy to take more. Sukuna made you feel ecstatic, like you were really his only one and though it was an illusion that you chose to believe in, it felt good to imagine yourself as his only care.

“And why would I miss you, huh? Aren’t you only a plaything for me?” The question he asked was meant to sound venomous but the sound of his voice betrayed the lighthearted intention. “Do you think I’ll blink twice when discarding you when I get bored of what you can give me?”

“I don’t think you’ll hesitate,” a chuckle once again shook your chest gently as you watched how Sukuna gently pulled your legs up from underneath him and brought one of your ankles to his face. The kisses he smeared along your shin were delicate, completely contrasting with the threatful impression that he was trying to make. He was worshipping you so openly, it made you blush every time. “But even though I know you wouldn’t think twice before killing me, I also think you’d miss me afterwards.”

Once the tender caresses finished, your calves landed on top of his shoulders as he leaned forward, squeezing a breathy moan out of you as he pushed his length into you to the very base of it, sliding on enough spit that it made the entrance easy. Ryomen learned your body through and through, he knew you can take it, he knew you’re always ready and eager to take him. Even if it’s early, even if it hurts. No matter when and where, if he told you to sit on his dick in the middle of a grocery store, you’d probably do just that and ask no questions. And yet, he knew where the boundaries are. Not once he pushed you when you were feeling bad. Not once he used you when you were not ready. The knowledge he now had about you came from observation.

“I think I would miss you,” he purred, his lips so close that they brushed against yours as he spoke. He’s got you in a mating press, filled to the brim with his bricked-up manhood and completely at his mercy. “You are addicting.”

“So keep me safe,” you whispered, cupping his face and chasing the kiss he was yet to give you. The request caught him slightly off guard. The pleading undertone made his heart clench; a feeling that he’s gone without for a decade at least and though he hated the odd sensation in his chest, he also couldn’t deny the warmth that spread throughout his body.

“You are safe with me,” the reassuring lie he followed with a heavy press onto your lips, sealing his words with his own tongue and silently promising you his protection. A vow that he wished to keep and yet, feared he won’t be able to. But now, it wasn’t important. Now you were here, in his bed, on his dick. Now there was just you and him.

Your dainty fingers found their place in his hair as he began thrusting into you. The new slick that combined with the remnants of the night made his movements easy as he dragged his hips back almost all the way out and then pushed back to the point of his pelvis clashing with the back of your thighs and your ass. The pace he set wasn’t fast. It wasn’t anything of what he’d most often pick, there was no violence intertwined into the melody of his hips. That morning it was sensual, it was deep and just rapid enough to stimulate every sweet spot inside of you. Stroke after stroke he was driving you crazy, he just barely started and already you felt yourself dripping. The filthy, wet sounds filled in the early aura and the muffled moans and whimpers accompanied them.

Sukuna allowed your legs to fall lower from where they were pressed against your chest and you hooked them around his hips. The newly earned access to his neck and shoulders you immediately used by allowing your hands to wander in the area, scratching his skin just to force a low purr from his throat. Every sound he made, you swallowed greedily as the kiss continued. Your tongues were dancing to the fiery rhythm of intimacy.

The coil in your stomach tightened all too quickly, you wished it to give you more time to enjoy what he was willing to give you but no matter how much you wanted your body to calm down, he made it absolutely impossible to achieve. Your veins were running with pure ecstasy and lust, the heated flurry that now was your brain was focused only on him, on the rhythm of his hips, on every sweet little lie that he whispered to you. Ryomen knew how to make you weak, he knew just how to angle his body to hit that one spot, the most sensitive one and you could feel him grinning against your lips. He knew you were close. The delicious squeezes that your cunt did on his girth were enough of a hint to notice and it gave him a sense of pride to be able to make you come undone so easily.

“Just few moments more,” he murmured and you nodded eagerly. Tears prickled in your eyes, gathering along your lash lines like crystals that he wished to kiss away, but was now too engulfed in the taste of your lips to part. His movements got quicker, just a little heavier as he began slamming into you with more force than at the beginning. Mornings tend to rid Sukuna from the ability to last – the ones that he spends with you in his arms, with your naked body pressed against his, unknowingly shifting against his dick for hours. That makes him unable to keep his composure for too long. Sometimes he feels like you strip him of all qualities that he once prided himself in, leaving him bare only to your eyes, with only the most primal needs exposed and he felt good with that kind of freedom.

“…don’t stop, oh god, ‘kuna~”, you were whimpering, arching your back underneath him and squeezing your little hands over his shoulders. “I can’t, I—”

“Oh, you can. Do your best,” Sukuna chuckled, teasing you with such impossible tasks. Your head fell back, your thighs were trembling against his sides and he could tell he’s losing you. You were far too deep in the realm of desire to hear his words; all of your world now came down to what you felt, to how you felt him and Sukuna loved your blissed out state. He loved the way he was the one to push you so far over the edge that you wouldn’t notice if the world was ending. But what he loved above that, was how you were gripping onto him; holding him tightly, pulling him closer as if you never wanted him to move away, as if he was everything you needed. And he was.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he muttered against your throat, painting the skin over there with wet trails of kisses and new, red marks – the ones gentle enough to fade in a matter of hours. You moaned something incoherent. “Cum for me,” he allowed, not even sure if you’re registering his words. It had to be unconscious; the way your brain caught his voice between the blurry lines of everything else.

Your climax hit you like a rock; his name was slipping over your tongue continuously, so sweet and breathless that Sukuna was once again reassured that he never wants to hear anyone else calling him. Your walls were squeezing his throbbing length, he twitched and flexed inside you, groaning with satisfaction and before he allowed himself to come, he pushed himself up. As he sat on his heels, he pulled you with him; your body now on top of him and he used his hands to guide your hips up and down his dick. You wrapped yourself around him, finding a safe space for your face right where his neck connects with his muscular shoulder and all he needed to feel the bliss was the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin.

White seed painted your insides as he shot it as deeply as he could reach with you on top of him. Few more moves, few more groans and you could feel him relax. His strong arms snaked around your waist as he shifted slightly to lean against the headboard, straightening his legs in front of him. You stayed pressed against his chest, catching your breath and feeling the tension leaving your body as the morning went by. And as Sukuna held you so close to his heart, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that it felt so right and that made the question bloom inside his brain. Was it still strictly physical? Was it ever only about sex?

taglist: @yihona-san06 @tiredscavengerskeleton @son4aras @vixorell @cecesharktales @isleqt @thickmacandcheese @captainchrisstan @bbylime @sad-darksoul @shartnart1 @kiki17483 @grimreaqueer @phoenix-eclipses @fan-of-encouragement @valleydoll @aleeeeeeees-stuff @marifujioka @going-to-californiaxx @just-pure-trash @edenofeve @impulsivethoughtsat2am @thigh-o-saur @heyohalie @matchat3a @bubblearts @littlemisspropaganda @aconstructofamind @lawislife18 @rzcnlb @sunukissed

[dnd-writes]

Trials and Tribulations

AO3

Tags: non-con, BFH, I somehow wrote this in 3 hours, what is 'edit', Jeewon, unnamed OC, forced free use, manipulating, groping, painal

A/N: Saw a Jeewon post on KPF and thought of something to write, laid down and wanted to write a few paragraphs before getting back up to go play or whatever, next thing I know I wrote the whole thing already more or less. Consider this as a spiritual successor to Boulevard of Broken Dreams BUT BUT BUT only in that it has somewhat of a similar premise, it is way way way waaaaay more tame and casual (aside from one painal scene) in terms of detail than BBD. Anyway, enjoy!

Cignature’s manager walks into the room and sees Jeewon just getting off her knees, he sees her bend forward, her butt pushes out towards him putting a smile on his face. She brushes her knees clean of dirt then fixes her skirt. As she turns around towards him, he sees a complete contrast to the clean and clothed look of her ass—her bare chest and face covered in cum. 

He looks over her shoulder and sees a middle-aged businessman on a chair, totally exhausted, one of the company’s investors. “She’s wonderful, isn't she?” says the manager to which the only reply he gets is a nod and two thumbs up. “I’ll be taking her away now.”

Jeewon heads out then the manager catches up with her and gets to her side. He puts a hand on her hip to pull her close to him so he can whisper into her ear. “Have one of the girls go clean you up. Haven’t fucked that ass in quite some time.” He smacks her ass as a signal for her to get going. “Be quick, I’ll be waiting, you know where to find me.”

—————

Yep, that’s Jeewon. You’re probably wondering how she ended in that situation. 

How does an innocent, voluptuous, and cheerful woman suddenly become the company’s cash cow? Well it all started when C9 Entertainment noticed a rather peculiar influx of attention. The attention wasn’t mainly on their sole girl group Cignature but rather it was targeted mostly at the company itself. 

They quickly traced it back to an interview that one Jeewon, one of Cignature’s members, did where the interviewer talked about her body, indirectly referring to her chest which she covered at the time the question was asked. Rather than addressing the situation and protecting their own artist, they instead embraced it. After all, as the saying goes, “Any publicity is good publicity.” Which goes true the more people talk about the clip. 

Now all that was left for C9 Entertainment to do was to capitalize on the attention and they found their solution from none other than the infamous interview itself—Waterbomb, well, a festival similar enough to Waterbomb that is. 

The announcement was controversial enough on its own but it was nothing compared to what Jeewon wore at the event. They put her in a bikini top and gave her a thin white top just to say she wasn’t naked. 

The outrage was massive but not as big as Jeewon’s chest or the Won signs in the company’s eyes. Sure the company received tremendous backlash for the decisions they’ve been making but that was nothing compared to the money coming their way. 

From that day forward, the company’s view of Jeewon has changed and all she is in their eyes is merely a tool they can use to generate views and revenue. While the higher ups used Jeewon’s body for profit, their manager planned to use Jeewon’s body for his pleasure. 

He used to see Jeewon and Cignature as his responsibility, close friends, and possibly even family. But given recent events, his perception of her has changed and after the festival, after seeing Jeewon up close, after seeing her tits jiggle, he has been woken up to just how insanely sexy she is. 

After every practice session or performance the group would do, whenever they finished their manager would be close by to congratulate them. Often he would clap and cheer for them or pat their backs. It gave the members encouragement and energy to keep going, that is, until they realized that his pats on Jeewon progressively got lower and lower until one day he’s just groping her butt in view of everyone else. 

Naturally the members would complain to the other staff but some simply didn’t care while the rest told them to just suck it up and accept it. That, along with some gaslighting and manipulating from the manager, made them keep their mouths shut. And the encouragement they would get turned into fear that the rest of the group would be touched the way Jeewon gets touched. 

Following their silence, he became more shameless in his interactions with Jeewon. He would slap her ass as a greeting any time he comes close to her and often we would hug her from behind like some romantic scene in a K-drama but instead it’s so he can grab her breasts without her leaving. 

He even made some rearrangements to the room assignments at the dorm, moving Jeewon from her room to his. He placed, well more so dumped, her things into his room just to seal the deal. And no, he didn’t have an extra bed so he made her stay with him on his. 

On the first night they were in the room together, as Jeewon was about to go to the bathroom to get changed, the manager blocked the way out and instructed her to get changed in front of him. With no other options and no way out, she was forced to comply. He licked his lips as he saw her in her underwear, it wasn’t quite the full thing just yet but he knows for sure he’s going to get it soon enough. They climbed into bed and he turned her around so he could spoon her and cuddle her like some body pillow, all the while grinding his erection into her butt. 

Morning arrived and everyone had breakfast together, with Jeewon sitting on the manager’s lap of course. As Jeewon was headed to the shower, he stops her and tells her he’s going with her “to save water,” a lie apparent to both of them. Jeewon wanted to say no but before she could even answer he was already pushing her towards the bathroom. The members watched anxiously as they walked together, nothing much they could really do. 

The manager immediately strips down and his cock is standing proud as it pointed towards Jeewon who was visibly disgusted. She turns away from him to quietly cry but not even her feelings had space as the manager was already starting to take her clothes off. He got her down to her underwear when he backed off to let her strip the final pieces herself. 

As Jeewon tantalizingly took her bra off, he would quote the interview back at her, saying that her physique is the best in history and that her body is the talk of the town. Jeewon once again covered her chest with her arm while she was removing her panties. She stood back up with her hands on her privates but the manager just walked up and put her hands at her side then he started feeling her up and played with her chest for a good few minutes. He would compliment her tits and especially her nipples since it’s the first time he’s seen them, maybe the first man ever to see them, then he proceeds to call himself lucky how he has her body all to himself. 

After playing with her body, he suggested that they help each other by cleaning each other while he was stroking his dick, making the innuendo even clearer as if Jeewon didn’t already know what he meant. 

The two stepped into the shower but it was less of a bath and more of Jeewon reluctantly jerking him off while he explored every inch of her exposed body once again. 

He would get increasingly annoyed at how slow Jeewon’s pace was and he decided to drop the subtleties and he pushes down on her shoulders to force her down on her knees. Then he grabbed her tits and trapped his cock between them so that he could start thrusting while Jeewon just knelt there and be used. 

Jeewon kept her eyes and mouth as shut as she could while he ejaculated all over her face. Before she could clean herself off, the manager wiped the cum off her face and collected it in his hand. He forced her to drink it all and retched from the taste. He then told her that she should get used to it because that wouldn’t be the last time she has to drink cum. 

After showering and using up more water than if they bathed separately, the group got ready to go to practice. It went just about as well as how their previous practices went just with some extra groping being received by Jeewon. When they got back to the dorm and the two got into the shower again, Jeewon was ready to get back on her knees but instead she felt herself get turned around. 

Jeewon felt the manager’s tip press against her slit and she froze in fear. He did not care if she was protected or not, a problem he was too horny to deal with at the moment. He pulled her back and held her by her chest as he started thrusting into her pussy. Jeewon just cried silently as she felt herself get more violated than she had already been, especially when she felt his hot cum stirring inside of her pussy. 

The manager got high on fucking Jeewon that he proceeded to do just that and only that for the next few days. He didn’t care how or where he fucked Jeewon or who among the members saw it but the only thing that mattered to him was that either Jeewon’s pussy or mouth was occupied by his cock. 

He would fuck her before and after sleeping. He would make her blow him while he ate food and watched TV. He would fuck her on the dining table forcing the members who were eating there to move elsewhere. He would use her mouth to properly clean him in the shower. And so on. Even when the group had to go practice, he would make the rest go to the company building while Jeewon was kept beneath him in the dorm. While they practiced their next performance, Jeewon was being turned into his sex pet. 

One of the members complained that the manager keeps having sex with Jeewon but much to the group’s dismay, they doubled down and saw an opportunity land at their feet. Why stop at dressing Jeewon so scantily clad in public when they could also use her body behind closed doors to also bring more money in, that way whenever the group isn’t on stage, they can be certain that their wallets are full. 

The manager was furious with what the members did even though the decision made by the company was expected for him but instead of finding out who the culprit was, he decided to just cool down and what better way to do that than to use Jeewon’s possibly untouched asshole for the first time. 

The manager had all the members in the living room and they all sat quietly in fear. He told them how annoyed and disappointed he was in them but he made sure to tell them he won’t scold them for it which gave them some relief for a very brief moment until he grabbed Jeewon by her hair and dragged her into his room. The members cried while they held each other as they listened to Jeewon screaming and begging for help, their hearts broke knowing that they couldn’t help and that they were somehow responsible for subjecting her to even more torment. 

He ripped Jeewon's clothes off while he held her down as she tried to struggle to free herself. Once her shorts were down, instead of feeling the familiar feeling of his tip pressing against her cunt, Jeewon felt his dick press against her asshole which made her scream so loud it echoed throughout the whole dorm. 

He didn’t bother lubing up or anything and he just started going in dry. Jeewon never knew such pain prior to that moment, whether mental or physical, and she screamed her head off through the night, making it known to the members just how much pain she was in and making it hard for them to go to sleep just from the loudness alone. 

From being always at the dorm to being almost never, Jeewon was sold off to investors as if she was some sort of prostitute. Though the manager still had his time with Jeewon, he wasn’t able to have as much action as he used to and naturally he turned to the other members of the group. He would assign a day for each member as if it was a chore to be used by him. The other members were also up for grabs but it was Jeewon who anyone wanted to fuck, not like anyone can blame them. 

From a merely suggestive interview question, spiraled all the way into Jeewon being turned into a cow, both financially and sexually. 

[hearts4hughes]

nosey - tate langdon x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mdni ; smut ; oral (f receiving) ; fingering ; degradation

A/N: enjoy this 😁

sunlight sneaks through the curtains in your room, illuminating your sleeping figure. you stir slightly and stretch, but continue to keep your eyes closed.

tate sits crisscrossed next to you on your bed. he looks over his shoulder at you as you begin to awake. he smiles and gets back to his reading.

tate was the ghost boy who lived in your house. you were skeptical at first. a cute teenage boy who was telling you that he was forever tied to your house? that’s insane… right?

but as he began to appear out of thin air to talk to you or listen to music, it seemed incredibly real. that’s how the two of you became best friends. he shared similar interests with you that no one else had. he was dark and dressed like kurt cobain and that drew you to him even further. he hid his past from you, shielding you away from the dark that shadowed his entire existence. it didn’t bother you much considering you were keeping some secrets from him as well. now, as he sat on your bed, he flipped through all those secrets.

it wasn’t his fault that you kept your diary on your nightstand.

you blinked the sleep out of your eyes as they adjusted to the light. “tate?” you mumbled, your voice heavy with sleep. his clad striped sweater back was facing you as he was hunched over reading intently. “what are you doing?”

“morning sunshine.” he turned his head to face you. “dream about me again?” he smirked.

again? what did he mean again?

“what are you talking about?” you rasped, sitting up with furrowed brows. you leaned over to see what tate was holding in his hands and your heart dropped. “oh my god, tate!” you shrieked, grabbing the glittery pink journal out of his hands. you slammed it shut and threw it across the room. he looked smug as ever as you began to freak out.

the blood from your face drained as memories flooded your mind of other things written in that damn book. wet dreams, love confessions, describing how he looked in such detail; god, he must think you’re a creep.

“relax, i was just catching up on my reading.” he simply stated. his eyes wandered over your face, taking in your flushed features. “and i have a right to read that, considering i’m the main character in most of your little stories.”

your eyes shot daggers at him. “fuck you! those aren’t ‘little stories’, they’re my private thoughts! and you have zero right to read them like they’re the sunday morning paper!”

“well i, for one, give you five stars on your writing. i seriously never knew that hazel appeared in my eyes when the sunlight hit them.” he teased with a boyish grin.

your face went from pink to a deep maroon. you clapped your hands over your face and avoided eye contact with the ghost.

“and those dreams were, woah,” he huffed out in a mocking tone. “some seriously got me riled up.” he mocked. you pushed at his chest, mumbling something along the lines of ‘shut the fuck up’. “it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, babe. i’m sure if i could dream, i’d dream about fucking you into oblivion too.”

“our friendship is officially over.” your voice was high-pitched and your face was warm with embarrassment. “i’m never talking to you ever again.” you tried to stand up from your bed, but tate’s hand locked around your wrist and pulled you back. swiftly, he trapped you under his body with your wrists above your head.

“well, what i’m about to do to you might not need many words, anyway.”

before you could argue, his lips were on yours. his tongue slipped into your mouth and you moaned in surprise. it wasn’t long before you began moving your mouth against his. he settled is weight on top of you, an unmistakable hardness pressing against your pajama pants.

you subconsciously rutted your hips up against his. the friction sent a spark of pleasure through your body. warmth settled between your legs at the movement.

“you’re so needy,” he murmured against your lips. he started grinding his hips into yours, creating more pleasure than you could imagine. you broke from the kiss, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy. he took the opportunity to press open mouthed kisses to your jugular. “gonna make you feel even better than you could ever dream of.”

goosebumps rose on your skin as he moved down your body, pressing kisses along your exposed skin. he stopped when he hovered over your core, slipping your pants down your smooth legs. he let out a smug chuckle when he realized you weren’t wearing underwear.

“it’s like you knew this was going to happen.” he tsked. “such a slutty girl.” he wasted no time as his tongue licked a stripe through your folds. he moaned at the taste of you. “you’re so wet, baby.” he latched his tongue onto your bundle of nerves and sucked. your mouth was agape. you couldn’t even form coherent thoughts let alone words as he feasted on you.

his tongue began poking at your entrance, causing your hips to buck up. his nose knocked your clit making your eyes roll. that’s when he began to push his tongue inside your tight hole. his hands splayed on your thighs, holding them open as he had his way with you.

he pulled his face away from your core. your slick was covering his mouth and chin. he smirked as he saw you. “is this all you’ve ever imagined? all you’ve ever dreamed of?”

you nodded and whimpered when he abruptly pushed two of his fingers inside you. he curled and thrusted them in at a relentless pace. “words, darling. use your words or i’ll stop.”

“yes!” you blurted out at the threat of him stopping. “making me feel so good.”

“that’s right, baby.” he moved his digits faster in and out of you. your walls clenched around his thick fingers. “making you feel good like the little slut you are. i would bet that you’ve even touched yourself at the thought of this before. haven’t you?”

“yes, i have.” your words were whiney and desperate as you approached your high. you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded, as long as tate kept doing what he was doing.

“such a little slut for me.” his eyes were trained where your pussy sucked his fingers in. the squelching sounds only adding to the pleasure. he started rutted his hips against your mattress, trying to relieve some of his aching.

then, as his lips returned to your puffy clit, you came. the knot untangled in your stomach and like a fountain, your release soaked his face. you had never done that before.

“didnt know you were a squirter, but now that i do know, we aren’t stopping.”

[letorip]

casual

"i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose, you said, "we're not together," so now when we kiss i have anger issues"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you and nat have been hooking up, but it seems the label of "no attachment" just seems to hurt you both.

warnings: explicit sexual content, mentions of sex, friends with benefits with feelings, you're a little bit of a dick

word count: 4.6k

A/N: it's come to my attention a LOT of people have used the chappell roan song casual for nat and i want to say i legitimately discovered this after i started writing. i tried to make it different from the others but there's definitely similarities just because they're based on the same song, but i want it known this was not an attempt to copy other people and i think so many of the other authors are insanely talented and i love reading their works.

===+++===

===+++===

“Nat I swear to god I’m going to kick you out of this bed if you don’t stop moving,” you groaned, smushing your face further into the pillow. The thin cloth casing smelled like her floral shampoo and cigarette smoke, and you pressed it with your nose to make it last longer, squeezing your eyes shut and drawing a slow, heady lungful.

Natalie scoffed at you, pinching your bare side gently with her soft fingers, and you squirmed with a laugh. “This is my bed and you’re hogging the sheets, jerk. I’m trying to get comfortable.” If you had more of a conscience about the whole thing, you would have felt worse about leaving her out in the cold air of the room in what little she was wearing, but you were having all too much fun.

“Mm,” you hummed in response, bunching her comforter up in your hands and tugging even more towards you with a mischievous smile, to the point where the entire thing was wrapped around you and absolutely none was left on Natalie, who you could hear shift on the mattress behind you.

“You have got to be fucking with me,” she said in disbelief, and you grinned. “Give it here,” she demanded, reaching for your burrito of sheets and you jerked yourself away with a laugh, rolling over to see her staring at you with narrowed eyes. “Come on, give me my comforter,” she said again, trying and failing to seem assertive. Nat never scared you like she scared other people.

You raised your eyebrows at her in amusement and stuck your tongue out, rolling back away from her. “Are you serious??” she asked, reaching for you, but you moved from her grip again. “Come here, you idiot,” she laughed, wrapping a hand around your clump of her bedsheets and climbing on top of you, straddling your waist with her legs so you couldn't escape.

You squirmed underneath her, trying and failing to break free. She was a soccer player like you, with strong legs so you could barely nudge her. "Are you done?" She asked with a beaming grin, hands next to your head on the bed to box you in. Her soft blonde hair fell around the both of you and you would have stopped for a moment to admire the view if an idea didn't suddenly pop into your mind.

"Hmm, let me think," you said, and Nat's smile immediately wiped away. "No," you said, and in an instant you shifted your weight, rolling her right off of you and onto the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

"Hey!" She called up from the floor, but you were too busy laughing. You sat up, tossing the sheets off to look at her down there in your triumph. "Jerk," she said, but not unaffectionately.

"Looks like you fell there," you replied, propping your head up on your hand and grinning from ear to ear.

"Aren't you funny."

"I like to think so."

She went silent for a moment, humming at your response and then just staring for a while, looking you over with an unreadable expression. You swallowed, letting her stare with a growing lump in your throat as you watched her eyes trace up your legs slowly from where they hung off the side of her mattress, landing on your waist and then trailing up again, to your chest for a while, and then finally up to your face.

The air in the room had been sucked out by a vacuum, and the two of you were left in a rising warmth and muggy heat. She stood up then, locking your eyes on hers and slowly walking towards you until she stood right over you, close enough to where you could feel her warm breath fanning down over your face.

Her own pale cheeks were flushed pink, and when her hands came up to rest on your shoulders your own went up to her waist, sliding your thumbs up further until they brushed against her ribcage. She shivered and tensed under your grip and you felt it.

Nat leaned down to you in a gentle way one would never assume would be her style, softly pressing her lips to yours. You sat like that for a moment, smiling gently into it as she clambered up to straddle your waist again, never once breaking contact. Her lips grew more hungry, moving against yours with a rising intensity and desire for more, softly breathing into your mouth and pushing on the bare skin of your shoulders.

Your hands moved down to wrap around the back of her thighs, holding her tight against you as she broke the kiss and moved down towards your neck. "Nat," you laughed in between attacks from her lips and small bites here and there. "We literally just did this. Like, not even thirty minutes ago."

"And?" she asked, going back to her business and moving her mouth to the space where your neck and shoulder met. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop yourself from groaning and instead to form words. "Your hands are so rough," she whispered in your ear, before retreating down again.

Your hands slid up from the back of her thighs. "Sorry. It's the tennis and the water polo," you rushed, a tad apologetic. But Natalie shook her head, pulling back and leaning her forehead against yours to catch her breath.

"Fuckin' rich people," she said, smiling. You nodded, reconnecting your lips together before you trailed your mouth down her neck and to her collarbone, leaving small kisses as you went. One of her hands came up, fingers grabbing and threading at your hair to hold you there. "Wait, you have a butler don't you?" she asked, but the last part was cut off with a breath as you sucked right over her pulse.

You rolled your eyes in amusement at the question, pulling away and raising your eyebrows at her. "You really want to talk about that right now?" Nat had always harboured a fascination with your lifestyle you failed to understand, but you indulged her when she asked.

"I'm just saying," she laughed. "What's his name? Jeeves?"

"Nope," you shook your head in amusement, already knowing how she'd react. "Reginald."

"Now that's hot," Nat joked, smacking you on the shoulder playfully before she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you tighter to her.

"Yeah yeah, get it out of your system, idiot," You shook your head, looking up at her where she sat over you. Light warmed over her blonde hair from the window behind you both.

"Mhm," she hummed, kissing you one last time before she pulled away. "You should probably go soon," she said, looking over at her alarm clock with a frown.

"But I like this position," you teased with a smile, hands back on her waist and slowly tracing patterns on the skin there. Her skin was soft and you dragged the pads of your fingers up and down, tapping gently and doodling random shapes.

"Yeah well, my dad will be home soon. I don't think he'd like seeing us in this position," Nat said back, clambering off of you with a smirk. You felt the weight off your lap the moment she was gone and had to stop yourself from grabbing her hand and tugging her back towards you. Damn her father. From what you had heard of him from Nat, he wasn’t too nice anyways.

But you stopped yourself, watching Natalie go, walking to the other corner of her room to where you had thrown her jeans earlier. She turned to you as she tugged them on. "You're going to practice tomorrow, right?"

You nodded. "Couldn't escape soccer if I tried."

Nat nodded, grabbing a nearby shirt and throwing it over herself. “Want to meet up after? Continue what we started?” She asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes at her, shaking your head with a smile. “I can’t. My father is back from his business trip. We’re having my cousins over for dinner- it’s a whole big thing. Reginald is making a roast.”

“Okay,” Nat said, leaning back for a moment to think. "What about Lottie's party on Friday? You going to that too?"

"Couldn't escape Lottie if I tried," you said, throwing your head back against her bed and splaying out. Lottie Matthews held a special place in your heart as not only your neighbour but one of your best friends, and that meant being dragged to whatever social gathering she so desired to attend or host.

"Ooookay, so...would you want to maybe…go to Lottie's together?" That caught your attention and you froze, looking up to see Nat uncomfortably glancing around her room, arms crossed and mindlessly tugging on the ends of her sleeves.

"Uh...," you stuttered, propping yourself up on your arms and frowning. "I kind of already told Jackie I would go with her and Jeff. I thought you would be going with Kevyn and that one kid...so."

Nat nodded, looking down at the floor and frowning. "Yeah, it's... it's fine.”

“Okay…” you trailed off, watching her fidget. “Are you…?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Jesus Christ. It’s one party.”

“Okay,” you nodded. Nat was very clearly not fine, but you knew better than to push her buttons. She tended to explode upon confrontation, especially when she didn’t want to talk about it. You stood up, stretching your arms out and you could feel her watching you again, soft blue eyes looking over you.

“Listen,” she said, in a tone that was disarmingly sweet for Natalie Scatorccio. This was far from the tough girl who shoved you against lockers after practice or who argued with you about everything and anything she could. Her cheeks were flushed and she fidgeted with her fingers.

“When I said… earlier, when I said you had really rough hands. I like your hands. It wasn’t- I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Um…okay,” you replied, nodding gently at her. You had no clue why she was being so timid all of a sudden and it was a bit puzzling. You turned back from her to grab your shirt from the floor next to her bed, tugging it over your head and turning back. "Have you seen my shorts?" you asked, running a hand through your mussed up hair and attempting to tame it.

"Yeah," said Nat, still weirdly quiet. She held them up in her hand, outstretched towards you, and you walked over, grabbing them from her and tugging them on.

"Thanks," you smiled, pulling the drawstrings tight and going to get your socks. The entire time she just watched you, not saying much but clearly thinking a whole lot. "Are you sure you're okay?" you laughed. "Stop being weird, Nat. Just say it."

"Okay...Look, I know you said-" but she was cut off. From outside her bedroom down the hall, you heard the front door open and slam shut. Natalie's face went white in panic and she stood right up, running to the window and throwing it open without even a second to waste.

"NATALIE, GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!" the old, gruff voice called from her kitchen, and you knew this was a code red situation.

"Go! Go! Go!" She whispered at you, pushing you towards her window. "Get the fuck out before he finds you!"

"Wait, my shoes-" you said, hopping through the window and landing on the hot pavement in your socks. She laughed, turning back around and grabbing your sneakers off the floor, throwing them out the window and smacking you in the head, bouncing off you. "Ow!"

"Sorry!" She whispered, sticking her head out the window. "See you tomorrow?" Her eyes softened for a moment, looking hopeful.

"Yeah," you nodded, grabbing your shoes off the ground.

"NATALIE! NOW GODDAMMIT!" Her dad called again, and she spun around, heading for the door and leaving you outside her window. You didn't even bother putting your shoes on as you ran off in your socks, to where you had parked your car several streets down.

===+++===

It was always Wednesdays in the cafeteria when the food looked most disgusting. You didn't eat it, but Shauna did, sitting right in front of you with a plate of what was allegedly turkey and gravy, and you always wanted to poke it a bit with a straw and see if it would get up and crawl away.

"Stop staring at my food," she laughed, and you shook your head, gagging a bit with overdramatic performance.

"It looks like a science experiment.”

"Yeah, well not everyone can have their food packed for them, now can they? Not my fault I don't have a maid like Lottie or a butler, like you," Shauna said, gesturing at you with her fork.

“Sorry,” you winced.

"You can have some of my sandwich, if you want," Lottie said, turning to Shauna and pulling it from her bag. "The housekeeper makes too much for me anyways."

Shauna shook her head. "I'm really fine, thanks Lottie. It's not as bad as it looks. Tastes almost good, in a weird way.”

“Maybe you’re just weird,” you shrugged with faux integrity, and Shauna stuck her tongue out at you.

“Are you guys going out for track in the spring?” Jackie asked, arms crossed out in front of her.

“I am, yeah,” said Lottie. “My parents think the more sports I do, the more colleges I get into.”

“Mine too,” you nodded. “I’m doing track but only if it doesn’t interfere with spring tennis.”

"What are you going out for?" Jackie asked. "I'm debating if I should even go out."

"Yeah, you should go out," Lottie said. "Track is always fun. (Y/n) and I both do relay and high jump, but you could probably handle the hurdles or short sprints."

"You think?" Jackie asked, staring off in contemplation.

You nodded again. "You'd do just fine. It's no big deal if you already know how to run, and me and-"

"-Oh. My. God." All three of you looked over at Jackie, who had straightened up completely. She was staring off behind you, into the distance with her mouth a bit agape. You hadn't even noticed she had stopped listening to the conversation.

"What?" You asked, puzzled by her expression. "Something on me?"

Jackie nodded, smirking. "A certain someone's eyes are."

You rolled your eyes. "Do I even want to know?"

"Oh come on," Jackie said. "You already know. Nat. She keeps looking over here from her burnout table."

You frowned, turning around and following her eyes. Natalie sat on the opposite side of the cafeteria, at one of the round green tables in the corner near the vending machines. She was indeed looking at you, headphones over her ears and cassette player on the table. When she saw you look back at her, she looked away quickly, turning to Kevyn.

"She's, like, stalking you at this point."

You scoffed, looking back to your table. "She's not stalking me, drama queen. She's probably just looking around."

Lottie turned back to the table, shrugging. "I mean, she does keep looking over here."

"Oh, not you too," you groaned, facepalming.

Lottie held up her hands defensively. "I'm just saying what I'm seeing." Shauna sent you a sympathetic look from across the table, retreating to eat more of her turkey. When someone gave Jackie crumbs like this she was like a dog with a bone. True investigative journalism at its finest.

"You said you two are hooking up right?" She asked, leaning forwards and almost whispering the last part. You frowned, not entirely sure why she was acting like it was a secret.

"Yeah, we hook up. We're not together though," you answered her.

"But she wants to be," Jackie said, flat out like it was a statement and an obvious one at that. She looked back over your shoulder where you assumed Natalie was still watching you. You shrugged.

"Maybe? I don't know. She hasn't said anything to me, so."

"She follows you around like a lovesick puppy, it's genuinely so weird. I've never seen Nat in love before-"

"Woah, slow down. She's not in love with me."

"Come on!" Jackie said, laughing. "You can NOT be that oblivious. Nat practically drools over you all the time whenever you're doing tennis at the courts next door!"

"So? We fuck around. Becoming a thing hasn't been talked about by either of us."

"Tell her that, then," Jackie giggled. "That nutcase is stalking you, I'm serious."

"Stop calling her a nutcase," you glared at her.

"It's just funny," Jackie shrugged. "So the cool, stoner burnout girl fell for the valedictorian, jock, key club president whose parents own a third home in Long Beach."

"Drop it, Jackie," Lottie said from next to you, shaking her head in irritation. God bless Lottie. But Jackie smirked at you again.

"It's just funny. Romeo and Juliet. It's cute, really," she laughed.

"Shut up," you said.

From overhead, the school bell rang, and you stood to gather your things for the final period of the day, bumping into Lottie as she did the same. Jackie spun to you.

“I’m gonna go find Jeff! See you guys at practice.”

“Bye,” Shauna nodded, giving her a warm smile.

The three of you grabbed your stuff and headed for the chemistry lab, turning down the hallway and up the stairs.

“Sorry about her, you know how she gets about Nat,” Shauna said to you, turning as you walked.

You shrugged. “It’s fine. She just needs to take it out on me next time, and not Nat. Nat didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She knows, yeah,” Shauna said, shuffling the books around in her arms so they were easier to hold onto. “You said your dad is back in town, right?”

“Yup. He was in Tokyo for some business or whatever. I don’t know, it’s boring stuff, a merger or something.”

Lottie shuddered. “I still remember when he yelled at us for pieing that old groundskeeper. He's like, scary."

You laughed. "He's not scary. He's just a business dude. No nonsense. And you and I know we were nonsense kids."

"Would he care if I went to the dinner? My parents are having date night and Taissa and Van are busy," Lottie said.

"I mean, I don't think he would care. My mother insisted on making a whole thing out of it. Pretty sure she invited the new neighbours, the Roosevelts."

"Wait, as in-" Lottie stopped, beginning to grin.

"It's not funny," you said, rolling your eyes.

"What? What's wrong with that?" asked Shauna.

"It's nothing, Lottie is being stupid."

"Hey!"

"My mother keeps trying to set me up with their daughter, since she's on the golf team and likes science," you explained to Shauna. "She keeps trying to find me a match in our neighbourhood. Literally almost killed her when I said me and Lottie were just friends."

"Have you told them about Nat?" Shauna said. The three of you turned the corner, walking up to the water fountain you would hang out in front of right before class started. Shauna leaned back against the lockers nearby, and Lottie went for a drink.

"Uh, first of all, they would probably kill me, and second of all, we're not together officially or anything," you shrugged. "We mess around a bit, but we both say it's casual and give each other space. Nat's tough, she knows."

Speak of the devil. From where you stood leaning against a pillar, Nat walked by with some kid you didn't know, shooting a small smile in your direction. You just watched her go, giving her an awkward grimace and looking back to your friends.

===+++===

"Eyes open, Lottie!" Coach Ben yelled from across the field near the bench. You could see Misty and Trevor, the manager for the boys' team, in the distance next to him, watching the scrimmage.

"Here!" She yelled. Lottie spun on her foot, sweeping the ball right from between Daniel DuPont's legs and up to Luke Miller, who was being covered down by a kid you didn't know. He looked around desperately, eyeing anyone she could pass to, finally locking eyes with you and booting it in your direction.

You caught it with your chest, letting it fall and then moving forward until Nat could catch up, Jeremy from your English class hot on her heels. You passed it out to her on the wing, letting her take it up the pitch.

She dribbled it, keeping it away from Carter Avery. He was a real prick, with a nasty sneer while he played, and he kept yelling at her, chasing her down the pitch while she ran. You moved up along with Jackie, ready for Nat to cross it to you, but she couldn't make it.

You watched Natalie push forward, but Laura Lee was nowhere to be found, covered completely by Shauna, who was an amazing defender and kept her completely boxed out. Taissa was on you and Jackie, and any pass in Jackie's direction would've immediately let Taissa run away with it.

Instead, Nat turned to Carter, trying to bounce it off his shoe and out, but it ricocheted, knocking off her own cleats and out. "Out on Natalie!" Coach Martinez yelled. "Natalie, if you're going to pull those tricks it has to work, come on!" He said, throwing up his hands.

She nodded, but Carter looked pissed, stalking over to her. "Play some good soccer, why don't you?" He sneered, coming right up to Nat's face. "Pull that bullshit again and I'll show you what happens."

You rolled your eyes, walking over. "Shut the hell up, Carter. It's your throw in anyways."

Carter Avery leered at you, trying to seem tall. "Got something to say to me, (L/n)?"

You put your hands on your hips, glaring right back at him. "Yeah, maybe I do, Avery. There's a reason the girls are going to nationals and the boys aren't. If you played just as well as you talked shit, maybe it'd be a winning team."

"Fuck off," he said. "I don't need your shit, country club."

"You're gonna get it anyways," you glared at him. "Just as long as you keep being a quivering pussy."

"Bite me," he said back.

"Can we play some soccer? Hellooo?" yelled Jackie from behind you. Carter grunted, but didn't say anything else, grabbing the ball from the ground and stalking towards the sideline. You rolled your eyes but backed up to your position, just behind Nat so you could give her support. Laura Lee came up, ready, and you looked back to Lottie to make sure she was behind you when-

-BAM!

A soccer ball collided right with your face, knocking you right off your feet. If it didn't hurt so damn much you would've been impressed by how good of a throw it was. Instead, you were left looking up at the sky, feeling blood begin to waterfall from your nose.

"Carter!" A voice yelled. "What the fuck!?"

"Oh my god!"

"Jesus Christ!"

"A very worried-looking Jackie was hovering over you, blocking your head from the sun. You saw Lottie behind her in a moment, and then everyone was crowing around in a weird halo of concern and disgust.

Nat elbowed her way through the crowd and was right by your head. "Are you okay?" She asked you, insanely worried. Her blue eyes were shining and distressed, and her blonde hair fell around you again like it did in her bedroom. You managed a weak thumbs up and a smile.

"Yup. Never better," you mumbled in pain, and she laughed, shaking her head.

"So stupid."

"How do I look?" You asked her.

"Covered in bruises, dude," she replied, with a smile. You heard some movement in the background and then you were being made to sit up. It was Misty, right behind you, carrying some nose plugs, bandaids, and a first aid kit.

===+++===

They let you sit out for the rest of the scrimmage for obvious reasons, and you sat right on the patterned blue and yellow tiles that led to the locker rooms with an ice pack against your nose and eye, head resting right up against the wall.

You didn't know what they did with Carter and you didn't particularly care. The pain in your eye and your nose seemed to radiate through your whole body, and you squeezed your eyes shut. According to Misty it was a miracle you had avoided a concussion, but it wasn't a miracle for your nose, which currently sat stuffed with blood-soaked tissues.

From down the hall near the field you heard the heavy metal door open. "Hey," she said. You didn't move, trying to stop more blood from pouring out.

"Hey Nat," you replied.

"Carter is probably getting detention. Everyone knows it was on purpose."

"Coach Martinez can do that?" you asked.

"Apparently. He gave us this whole long speech and pretty much dissed the boys team for not being good. It was funny."

You smiled at the thought, nodding a little bit. "Remind me not to cross Coach Martinez."

"Will do."

"Is practice over?" You asked, opening one eye to look at her.

"Not yet," Nat shook her head. "I volunteered to check on you."

"My hero."

She rolled her eyes at the title, smiling in that cheesy, toothy way she liked to smile. You liked it when she smiled like that.

"Well, Carter's a douche," she said after a moment.

"I know. Kept on contemplating if it was worth it to knee him in the balls."

"You should've. That guy could fuckin' reproduce one day. There could be more, miserable, little clones of himself that other kids will have to put up with." Natalie walked over, sliding down onto the floor with you.

"Tell me how bad it is, would you?"

She winced. "It's definitely a 'black' eye. Your nose is busted, too."

"Great. My mother is gonna throw a giant fit about it, then," you groaned, imagining it now.

"Why?" She asked.

You laughed. "She's supposed to be setting me up tonight. Has this neighbour girl- Julie Roosevelt- picked out and everything for that dinner I told you about. She's not bad, she's at least nice, but I don't-"

You stopped talking when you noticed Natalie had tensed up next to you. She was staring at the opposite wall, looking absolutely beside herself. "She what?"

"She's trying to set me up..." you muttered. There was suddenly the overwhelming sensation you had just said something very very wrong. Nat stood right up, turning around to go back out the doors. "Nat, what's wrong? What did I say?"

She whipped back around to you, eyes watery, her bottom lip quivering a bit, in a way you had never seen Natalie either. "And you're letting her?"

"Um...I mean, I don't really have an excuse."

"Oh, you don't, do you? God, you're such a fucking asshole!"

"What did I do??" You asked her, standing up too.

"You really don't know?"

"No, Nat, I don't."

She shook her head, tears beginning to fall. "Go to hell, (Y/n)." With that she turned around, bursting through the metal doors. You were left in the hallway all alone, watching her go with a deep frown.

"Ahem," cleared a throat from behind you.

You nodded. "I know Lottie. I know."

===+++===

so this took awhile. first non jenna ortega fanfic of mine, so it's probably a little bloated, but i wanted to get it out there because there will definitely be a part two. i like nat so much and i love the show, and there will definitely be more nat and more lottie from me and shauna (?) but next will be a tara carpenter fic

[hauntedhouseghost]

Misogyny in Shifting Criticism

If you’ve heard about “Reality Shifting” but (like me) aren’t yourself involved in the community, it’s probably been presented to you as a TikTok trend amongst teenage girls obsessed with Harry Potter that emerged in response to the COVID-19 lockdown in 2020. The most generous critics have framed it as an online game of pretend amongst bored quarantined teenagers; the harshest have sounded the alarm that reality shifting is a psychosis. This alarmist reaction to a trend amongst teenage girls exploring their sexuality through such a benign thing as fantasizing about Draco Malfoy was suspicious. I thought they were wrong, but I didn’t know enough about Shifting to know for sure. 

Social media in general seems to have become increasingly conservative since 2020. I see Dark Academia and Cottagecore as connected to today’s BookTok and Trad Wife (through shared aesthetics and hobbies), both of which have been criticized as anti-feminist and anti-intellectual. I wanted to see if Shifting would fit into that pattern and have a more conservative 2024 offshoot. After learning more about Shifting, I have found that:

As expected, shifting criticism is almost always laced with misogyny

It doesn’t have a conservative offshoot, but it is ideologically connected to New Ageism and the “conspirituality” wave that has swelled since COVID first hit. 

Misogyny in Discussions of Shifting

People always shit on whatever teenage girls are into, and this is just another example of that. The mindset that teenage girls are vapid/gross/stupid/etc has misinterpreted Shifting as a solo endeavor, a TikTok trend, and a mental illness. Here’s why they’re wrong:

Even though people might practice Shifting alone, it’s still a very communal practice. As researcher Sarah Perez writes:

“...to call reality shifting ‘solitary’ misses the continuous exchange of stories, tips, motivational messages and more…—making the practice highly social” (“Through the Looking Glass” 298).

Connecting to the above: “shifter” refers to anyone who believes in and practices shifting, not just people who have themselves shifted. Researcher Sara A. Kumar found that only 78.7% of self-identified shifters have experienced a successful shift (“Through the Looking Glass,” 299). 

While shifting does involve seeing/hearing/smelling/feeling/etc things that others cannot, those experiences only happen when a person intends them to. In psychotic disorders, people cannot control their engagement with/break from reality. 

Lots of religions have developed within fandoms online. Others have focused on Jedis, the Matrix, or The Lord of the Rings. What sets shifting apart is its association with young women. Interestingly, another fandom religion that got mocked a lot is SnapeWives. Also, Snape is probably appealing for very similar reasons as Draco—both are quite tortured and feminine-coded—but that's a separate tangent.

I was looking at YouTube shifting criticism and found this gem:

What's fascinating is that this guy's whole account is dedicated to videos about lucid dreaming!!! In this video, he calls [air quotes] “reality shifters” "weird," "insane," and "fucking annoying" and says “Reality shifting is just bullshit, it’s just a dream" (1:30-34). He characterizes shifters as all wanting to go to Hogwarts and “fuck Draco Malfoy” (at 1:15-17). The top comment reads: “Reality shifting is the astrology of lucid dreaming.” Astrology is another New Age spiritualist belief that is generally disparaged by outsiders and is also associated with young women. However, as a wise person once Twote:

With shifting, could we say that lucid dreaming is the version of “reality shifting” that is acceptable to men?

6. Another video I found is called “'Reality Shifting': How the Tiktok Teens are Giving Themselves Psychosis” (by Nicholas Black). In this, the YouTuber says (at 2:04-16) “It was a TikTok on Reels with a teenage girl claiming that she shifted realities so she could become Draco’s girlfriend.” He then shows a video along those lines, and afterwards says “You can imagine I was concerned.” Other videos on his page are titled in similarly misogynistic and panicky ways:

“Are Booktok girlies “corn” addicts?”

“Instagram won’t stop recommending me Tradwife Reels”

“When TikTok users get ahold of words they don’t understand”. The example of such a word given in the thumbnail is “Male Gaze,” which is connected by an arrow to the winking eye of a stock image white man. Beside this is the text: “Please actually read Laura Mulvey’s theory. I’m begging you.”

All of these position him as superior to whoever his video focuses on, and he seems to focus on women/women's sub-cultures a lot.

New Age & Philosophical Roots

Western philosophy focuses on skepticism, as in Descartes’s “I think, therefore I am.” This idea that our perception of reality is uncertain underlies conspiracy thinking (ex: QAnon), vaccine denialism, and reality shifting.

Authors Beres, Remski, and Walker coined the term "conspirituality" to refer to the combo of conspiracy thinking and New Age spirituality (think: QAnon believers who rely on healing crystals to protect themselves from COVID and psychic vampires or whatever). They define the central tenets of conspirituality as:

Nothing happens by accident

Nothing is as it seems

Everything is connected

In “Granola Fascism” (ContraPoints, at 37:51-38:06) she says, “New Age and conspiracy thinking share a hunger for meaning. They feel that all of reality should be comprehensible to the intuition of any individual human mind. This is a way of seeing that is epistemically empowering.” These emotional needs that drive people to conspiracy theorizing also drive young people to ShiftTok (and shifting content elsewhere). Of course, there are other appeals of ShiftTok - creative expression, escapism, community. Those and its main demographic are what distinguish ShiftTok, but at its core is still this search for narrative meaning and agency.

How psychologically different really are shifting and ideas about the “deep state”? What differentiates them is their emotional ~flavor~. QAnon believers of a secret deep state cabal of pedophiles craft a reality around soothing fear. Shifting can craft realities around soothing depression and hopelessness. They are both removals from, not engagements in, reality. Some shifters’ Desired Reality is just like this one, but without climate change, or just like this one, but with their family unaffected by depression. In response to the question “Why do people come back to their cr?” one Redditor said this:

Conclusion!!!

Shifting is actually super interesting!

Fandoms generate actual religions/spiritual practices that aren't any less plausible than older, established religions

Teenage girls can't do anything without people pathologizing it or acting like it's freakish and bad

[lookingforhappy]

Five should never have been with the CIA, he should have been with the Keepers

the CIA is incredibly reminiscent of the Commission, the thing that Five has been trying to escape since s1, and that has repeatedly dehumanised, manipulated and hurt him.

not only is it a secret organisation that aids in the manpiluatation of the lives of others by a higher power but he is also constantly monitored, with and without his knowledge -

he has to report to his boss, he is constantly followed/attended to by Derek (who is lightly implied to also be a keeper), and the keepers are undoubtedly reporting back to his boss to keep him in line without his knowledge.

(just look at how many are keepers.. thats insane for Five not to have noticed anything after spending so long in the commission on high alert - what happened to him always checking the surroundings first??)

sounds similar to him having to report the handler, constantly being followed by her (into the bathroom, the tube room, etc) and always being watched by the infinite switchboard and his tracker.

there's also the "Five is one of the top agents at this secret and shady org. and Diego is the butt of the joke because he wants what Five has and Five won't give it to him & when he does get it it's a comedy scene" thing.

which is honestly just another nail in the "cia is too similar to the commission to be comfortable for five" coffin for me..

he is also constantly referred to as "Mr. Five" a name that is only ever seen used by the Commission,

and which is supposed to show the Commission's false respect for Five by tacking a "Mr." onto his name while also refusing to add on a surname (Hargreeves) - or in the circumstance that Five doesn't accept a last name, then addressing him by his full name "Number Five" or "00.05" or just "5" - which dehumanises and detaches him from his family aka his reason for leaving.

Five also calling his boss "sir" is incredibly out of character as at no point in the series has he called anyone by a honorific, not the Handler, not his father, and especially not someone younger than him.

and also that he calls the cia director (lance ribbons) "boss"

like not even "my boss" or "the boss"... just "boss". it just feels like such a young mans word, which Five decidedly is not. if i had to pick how he would address ribbons id have him say "ribbons", "director" or maybe "director ribbons" if he was in a formal situation. never "sir" or "boss"

There's Five adapting to the timeline/circumstance and then theres Five's entire personality changing.

and honestly, if this is a survival technique for Five in this timeline, to play into his apparent youth, then why not show that?? or even explore it in a more interesting way like how the comics had him disguise as a kid with a backpack, bike and binoculars???

instead they kept giving him stupid little props that only served to further hammer in the obvious "hey! five works for the cia now!"

all it does is make him look ridiculous, and i know that five is holding the gun and torch in the correct way but god it makes him look like such a cop. and after hes been fighting authority for his entire life it feels so fucking weird.

what's interesting though, is that he would have fit in fine with the Keepers! and we see this demonstrated perfectly in their first scene

just.. the way that perfectly sums up Five.. plus our concerns that he wouldn't have anything to do after the apocalypses are solved and aidan's comments that Five was feeling like he had nothing left/suicidal.. for there to be a group of other people that not only believe him but support him unconditionally?

(aaand im out of pictures... great)

for Five to be able to say this to other people? and to not be thought of as insane?? thats big.

and then for Five to be hinted at not keeping up with his siblings aside from Diego - the deleted scene with Klaus at the party shows that Five doesn't know how long Klaus' been sober for, he also asks Luther where Viktor is, clearly hasn't seen Allison or Ben in a while.. it's all such a perfect set up for Five to join the keepers.

and not only does this set him up with other people, in a support group setting. but it also perfectly sets up his arc to have conflict with his siblings without losing their trust (sorry fivela stans but i cant get on board bc it destroys his relationships with the family).

while Viktor was negotiating with Ben, the others could have been negotiating with Five. which would have brought us full circle, of five disappearing and fighting like hell to get back home, to returning but not feeling like he belongs, to being brought back into the fold. this is also the perfect opportunity to bring Lila in, as she would have the best understanding of where he stands after being manipulated by the commission.

it's also the perfect opportunity to have Five cause the apocalypse, instead of save it. people have talked about Five being set up to cause the next one since forever, and Klaus has a perfect set up for it too.

I personally think that each season should have rotated who causes the apocalypse instead of randomly making it Viktor's fault. this way we could explore the siblings individually and their trauma and recovery. give them all a seasons worth of focus.

season 1 gave us Viktor's apocalypse.

season 2 should have given us Diego's via JFK's survival causing the apocalypse (exploring his hero complex and how his ignoring his family in favour of pursuing his own ego/comfort isn't good for anyone etc)

season 3 should have been Allison's via her desperation to get Claire back - the kugelblitz shouldn't exist (because it doesnt work with the established laws of space time) but instead her deal with Reginald should have caused the apocalypse maybe as a way to motivate the others like Five into finding a solution.

season 4 can still be Ben's but ultimately for the final season it should have been a joint effort or at least come full circle and actually been impactful with more connections to Ben's death instead of the 2 second reveal of him getting shot in the most anticlimatic and confusing reveal i have ever seen. Ben has literally haunted the narrative for 4 seasons, between his death being the reason they disband, to his ghost being the reason they survive at the end of s1 and s2, and his alternate reality self in s3 and s4. he didn't get the send off he deserved for someone who has influenced near everything in the show.

there should have been 8 seasons - 7 to deal with the issues of the individuals, and 1 to deal with their recovery as a group, almost acting as an epilogue.

instead we got 4 poorly planned and incomplete seasons..

anyway, thats what i think Five should have been doing this season, not joining the CIA

[haunted-planes]

Some train facts that may help for your living train oc:

(From a dude who is a train mechanic and casually drives subways and city trains for years.)

Trains eat a lot of sand, some prefer mixtures with oil and other minerals but no matter what train you choose for your oc, sand is a crucial substitute for a healthy and happy train.

Rails are lubed by trains. The more trains drive on the same track the smoother the ride. (Fun idea if you wanna follow a train’s traces.)

Trains, including electric trains require a variety of oil, lubes, fluids and other liquids to operate. (Fun ideas for food or cosmetics products for trains. Fr, some materials look so freaking delicious)

Sudden and fast movements are painful for trains and can bend trails. Trains are powerful but they need more time to build up speed.

Subway trains have a burning hatred for pigeons. The amount of dead pigeons in tunnels is INSANE, despite all efforts to stop them from entering tunnels, pigeons are very passionate about flying into their dead trap.

The newest generation of trains panic about little intervention. Very anxious and scream at lot (at the driver)

All trains have graffiti on them. If it’s not outside then it’s on the inside.

Street trains or bims are like chihuahuas in my eyes. They may be small but they are thought and ready to fight anyone.

Modern Trains have several cameras inside and outside, they can see all around their body or what their passengers are up to.

Some trains are whiny bitches and constantly need service while others never complain about anything for years. (There is a fucked up reason for that but that’s a deep rabbit hole I won’t go into the details)

You don’t want to meet train drivers, they’re insane.

You absolutely don’t want to meet subway drivers, they’re insane beyond measure.

Trains honk at everything that’s near their trails.

Trains are surprisingly quiet while moving on trails. They can take you by surprise. (They did many times) Please stay away from trails.

Stopping a train is difficult, it’s nothing like a car or truck, When they arrive into a station, trains hit their brakes way before they can see the station. That’s why trains can’t stop in time when there is an obstacle on the rails.

All trains have ONE head. Most modern trains rear and front end look exactly the same, both ends have cockpits with very similar controls but their main controls are located on the head. They look like that to confuse predators.

This is optional but it makes sense to me that trains are very sensitive about their rails, they treat them like it’s part of their body, especially the ones in their region and base. You can’t compare them like cars on the road, it’s a completely different dynamic for trains.

That’s all for now, I started writing this in July and collected ideas over the months from my personal experience with driving and fixing trains. I will probably do a part 2 since I still have a lot to learn. You should be able to look up everything on the internet.

Feel free to add your own ideas below.

[greeniegirl23]

Alastor As A Father (Son Version)

- 10 hours. You had been in labor for the second time in your life and it lasted 10 fucking hours...

-As the doctors tended to your newborn son, you quickly grabbed Alastor by his throat and growled in his ear. "If you ever put me in this position again I promise I'll throw you out of the hotel so the Angels can erase you during the next extermination!! Are we clear?!"

He gulped, dangerously aware of your seriousness. "Crystal.."

- Back to your newborn. He was similar to his sister when she was a baby. Your son wasn't a crybaby., not even in the slightest. Only whimpering or whining when he wanted something. It took a lot to make him actually cry and when he did you both knew he was hurt or you'd probably have to kill somebody.

- This time around, Alastor had decided to step up his parenting game and started doing some research. Starting out with some baby books that Charlie lent him from her Dad. He became very invested in your child's development and even tried to convince you that your daughter might have been a 'slow' baby in her toddler years.

"Al, for the hundredth time our daughter turned out fine!" You groaned, rinsing off a plate and handing it too him to dry. "You can't believe everything those books say, especially when they're so.. statistic based."

Alastor huffed. "Darling, according to the book she should have started walking earlier than when she did. Assuming that it's true, I don't want the same for our boy. They will have to protect each other when we're no longer around. Which means he's going to have to be a strapping young gentleman and there's no better time to start than now."

- Unfortunately, this started a somewhat heated argument between you. Alastor was frustrated that you couldn't see how important it was to get an early start, while you were pissed at the fact that he thought your very intelligent, very capable 13 year old was slow and that he was putting too much pressure on your 4 month old who still enjoyed chewing on his own feet.

- As much as you fought for him to understand your point, Alastor became an immovable boulder and you were too dull of an axe to crack him open.

- This stressed you out for two reasons. One, the potential for your son to grow up underneath insane amounts of pressure at such a young age was high. Two, you knew Alastor would sneak behind your back to mold this boy into who he believed he should be and unfortunately, there wasn't much you could do about it.

- You had to trust that in time Alastor would learn from mistakes he made. Until he did though, you promised to be there emotionally for your son and to stop your husband from going too far.

-As your boy grew, the fears you had for him began to come to light. Alastor was just as harsh as an old master. Despite your son's grades, physical strength, and domestic skills for a boy, it still was never enough for his father. It was bad enough the point where your son exclaimed that he hated his father.

"He's never happy with me!" Your now six-year-old child cried in your chest after another incident of Alastor's cold hearted nature. "I drew a picture of him today in class, got all A's on my assignments and he just brushed it off! I don't understand.." He sniffled. "Did I..-Did I do something bad?"

"Of course not Sweetie," You said, trying to comfort him. He's tears soaked your shirt as you tried to come up with a plan to put a stop to this madness.

"Then why doesn't he love me..?"

- The sharp pang in your heart that you felt in that moment brought you and your husband back to a pretty foul argument that went unfinished years prior. Giving that man a piece of your mind once again felt good and this time he was going to listen regardless of if he wanted to or not. How dare he make your child feel that way?! Much less make him cry!

"The boy is too sensitive." Alastor groaned, flipping through his news paper. "He's crying over absolute nonsense."

"He's been crying because you've been on his ass like white on rice since he was three months old!" You exclaimed. "All he's trying to do is impress you but you shoot him down and strap him with more work and expectations. He's six, Alastor!"

Alastor growled. "If he's so obsessed with feelings like love and acceptance, then clearly I'm failing at my job as a parent. Do you think the people of Hell care about utter gutter trash like that? I'm making him strong so can protect himself and his sister, to protect you if I should meet my second demise. Why don't you seem to understand that?!"

Sadness took over your features as you realized that Alastor had blinded himself by his own worries. "Your job as a parent is to feed them, cloth them, give them shelter, and to be there for them. That counts being there emotionally!"

Finally Alastor had enough, "He'll be fine, this conversation is over." He grumbled, preparing to walk off to dismiss you again.

"No, it's not!" You yelled, getting right in his face to show you weren't backing down. You knew he'd never lay a hand on you or anything of the sort, but the tensions were high and you needed his full acknowledgement.

"Our jobs as parents are to protect our children, but your so worried about preparing them for this godforsaken place until you can't even save your son from yourself!" You backed away for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"Do you realize what he could become from your neglect? He could be the next fuckin' Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy all because of your efforts to make him "strong"." You sighed, shaking your head in confusion and disappointment as your eyes grew glossy. "Alastor you weren't ever like this with our daughter. Sure you were a bit overprotective of her but you still allowed her to be a child. So why do things have to be different for our son?.."

- Alastor looked at you for what seemed like an eternity. The moment lasts so long as your tongue grows thick in your mouth. With an angry huff after what seems like forever, he just, walked right by you. Grabbing his tail coat and heading out the door.

- To say you were shocked was an understatement. Immediately you fell to your knees and started to cry. Weeping for yourself, for your son, because your husband was too damn stubborn sometimes, and because you weren't strong enough to stop him.

- You came to the conclusion that you needed some space. Quickly you gathered your children and their belongings, made a call, and went back to the place where it all started.

- Charlie welcomed you with open arms, happy to see you once again and offering you a shoulder to cry on if needed.

-You took her up on that offer, as well as Vaggie while the other patrons enjoyed the company of your kids. Angel Dust even recommended a shopping day with everyone, for old times sake. Your daughter agreed happily in her monotoned voice while your baby boy seemed quiet.

- As you ran back the events of the night to your friends, they both seemed equally as concerned as you were for your son's well-being.

-Speaking of which. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a while now. Last you checked, he had gone in the kitchen to get a drink. You asked if anyone had seen him since, only to get a sound of reverberating "No's"

- You panicked. Running to the kitchen only to find the window open and one of the knives on the counter was missing. A note hung on the curtain, quickly you read it.

"Daddy made me cry and he made you cry too. I think it's his turn to cry now. I'm sorry Mama.."

A disturbing chill crawled quickly up your spine as you ran back out into the lobby screaming in fear.

-You gave Husker the note as Charlie demanded the car to be brought around so you could stop your son's psychotic break.

"Don't you think we're overreacting a bit? He's six and like 4'3 he can't have gotten far." The grumpy cat said.

"This is Alastor's kid we're talking about, do you really think he's your typical elementary school boy? She sliced someone's arm off when she was eight!" Vaggie exclaimed, referring to your daughter who was now trying to console you.

"Our Dad was gone before we left home, maybe he's not back yet?" She inquired hopefully.

"Sweetie, I didn't tell him we were leaving. If he's gone out he always comes back around 10:30 to say good night to you and your brother. It's 11:00, so I'm sure he's home by now."

-As you, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husker hopped in the car to speed off to your home. You couldn't help but pray to God that something would stop your son from going through with something so cruel.

- Alastor sighed as he walked back into his home. It was wrong for him to talk out like that and his reprimand from Rosie was finally what helped him understand that.

-He was ready to apologize to you and to his son. Expecting you to appreciate his change of heart and maybe even earn his son's forgiveness.

-What he didn't expect, was an empty house. Nor the note on the fridge explaining where you were. It has a few tear stains on it and he cursed himself for making you cry. As he read it, part of him wanted to go to the hotel and apologize to you there. The other part of him realized he had pushed you away too far and maybe, just maybe you needed some time alone to reel in your thoughts.

- Slowly, he made his way up the stairs into your shared bedroom. Smelling like whiskey and feeling slightly depressed. His smile was maintained of course, though it was small and forced to whoever might see it.

- He flopped into bed. Rather ungracefully but he didn't care, there was no one around. No one to scold him or ask him if he had a hard day.

- The house creaked as the night wind blew through his window. His face was stuffed in a pillow as he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo. Flowery, like his Mother used to wear.

-She was always there for him. Kind of like you were always there for your family as well. Both him and your children looked to you for inspiration, love, and affection. Which made him feel even worse for putting you in such a position earlier. Here you are, giving him children, making time for them and him, while also trying to make time for yourself. Fighting against your own husband just so he could see what was important to you, only for him to brush it all off in a hissy fit because he couldn't handle being told he was doing a bad job at being a good father.

-Now, when you asked him about this at a later time. He told you he's unsure of how it happened. He can't remember if he was so wrapped up in his thoughts to the point he wasn't aware of his surroundings, or if your son may be part snake instead of part deer.

-But what he does remember is turning on his back just in time to stop the butcher knife from impaling him straight through the heart. How the hell this person got into the house and into his bedroom without making a sound is something Alastor would never know.

-Whoever the hell had lost their mind to do such a thing was about to become a stain on the wall because if their was one thing for certain and two things for sure Alastor wasn't in the fucking mood until he realized the familiar figure in the darkness was his own flesh and blood.

-His son. His own son was straddling his waist, struggling against his Dad's 137 year old strength at just six and a half years of existence. Alastor didn't understand what was going on, why was he doing this and where were you?!

"What are you doing?!" Alastor yelled. Trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

The boy stayed silent and screamed out something close to a war cry as he used his entire body weight to push the knife closer to Alastor's chest.

"I'm talking to you boy and you'd better answer me this instant!"

"Shut UP!" He shouted. "You don't get to talk to me! Not after what you did earlier today!"

Alastor's heart stopped a bit after he realized that his son had overheard the argument between the two of you.

"That was a misunderstanding! Your mother and I may have exchanged words but everything will be alright, now put the knife down!"

The child growled something feral. "It's not going to be okay, things between us were never okay! From the moment I started training under you, you've been nothing but a big bully. I'd go crying to Mom when you weren't around because all you ever saw me for was worthless! You never loved me and I was willing to accept that because Mom promised me that you'd change in time, but after today I don't believe that anymore!"

With a swift move, the boy had broken the arm lock he was in and lifted the knife over his head to plunge into the man he called Father. Tears weld in his eyes as he swung forward, his pupils changed similar to Alastor's and his voice became distorted with anger and malice. For the first time, Alastor swore he knew how his victims felt as his own smile grinned mercilessly back at him.

"YOu MaDE my MoTHeR CrY AnD FOR thAT, I'LL mAKE SuRE YoU NEvEr MaKE EIthER oF US cRY AgAIN!!"

- It was like a switch in his head had been flicked on. Alastor watched as his son swung his blade forward in slow motion. Memories of himself and what he had done to his own father came whirling back.

- The past seemed to have repeated itself. What a sick and twisted universe. He remembered the arguments between his parents. The sounds of glass shattering and his mother's begging for the pain to stop. He remembered peaking into her room to see her covering her face with makeup to hide the bruses. The fake smiles she'd give him in the morning while she cleaned up the mess from the night before. The deep silence between him and his Dad when he stabbed him to death in the very same way. He tried to hide the body on his own, he didn't want mother to be mad at him or find out. But she did and may have indirectly set his path down a dark road by justifying his actions at 14 years of age.

"Murder ain't good Alastor," She said, sitting him on her lap as she rocked with him in her rocking chair. Her sweet Southern drawl was like music to his ears. "You shouldn't have killed that man, n' I won't try to pretend what you did was right."

"Yes ma'am..." He replied sadly, on the verge of tears until she spoke again.

"Listen Allie. Anyone who kills another person, just for the sake of making someone else smile, is alright with me. I know the only reason you did what you did, is because you felt like you had to and you couldn't stand to see me gettin hurt no more." she sighed. "I just wish I was strong enough to leave when I had the chance, n maybe' you're lil would have stayed clean from the blood of my mistakes.."

"M'Sorry Mama.."

She smiled. "No Baby, I'm sorry. For makin' you live through that when you shouldn't have. My sins are now yours to bare. N' sadly there ain't much I can do to fix that." Fixing his glasses on his face, she gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Promise me you'll stay strong Alastor, bare these sins with a smile and don't add on to them unless you absolutely have to."

"I promise." He replied. Swearing silently to make her proud and for her to keep smiling, no matter what.

-Everything made sense now. Truly it did. Why you were so concerned. How he became so blind. What he buried deep within and how he manifested into the situation he was in now.

-But unlike his father, Alastor had a choice and a chance to do better before it was too late. Quickly, the Radio Demon sat up and snatched the knife out of his son's grip mid swipe. The blade clattered to the ground and gave his child the loving embrace he so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry." He said with sincerity. "I should have never made your Mother cry, nor should I have ever made you feel less than appreciated. I am proud of what you've done, who you've become, and who you're going to be."

He felt the small body go rigid. Freezing in confusion as his Dad actually told him how he felt for once. Alastor continued. " I'm sorry for making you think I never loved you. In fact, I love you so much that I wanted you to be perfect. To be strong, to protect your sister, and your mother when I'm not here anymore. But I put far too much on you too soon, which was unfair to you in a number of ways. I only wanted the best for you, but I couldn't see that I was harming you in the process and I never, ever wanted that..."

Pulling away from his son, one of the biggest pride and joys he had down in this disgusting cesspool. He wiped the child's tears away and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are my son and I love you, I apologize that it took me so long to say it, but it is true. I'm proud of you for being willing to protect your mother, even from me. I had to do the same thing around your age to the man that would have been your grandpa, but he was terrible to us and deserved to be slaughtered. You're already further ahead than I am, so please. Forgive me and I promise our relationship from here on will be much, much different than what it's been."

- Alastor watched as his son hiccuped and sobbed. Nodding his head and mumbling out a meek "Okay.." He dove in for another hug and Alastor allowed him to stay there and cry tears of relief for as long as he needed to.

- Not too long afterwards, you came barreling into the house and raced up stairs. Calling Alastor's name and for your son until you literally kicked down the door to your bedroom, stopping at what you found and thanking God for hearing your prayers.

-The others came after you in a frenzy but quickly let out breathes of relief at the sight of your smile. Quietly you 'shhhed' them and stepped aside to see the same beautiful sight you did.

-There on your king sized bed, sat your husband and his son. Alastor was propped upwards against the headboard, using pillows to support is back while his head was supported by your son. The six year old was snuggled up against his father's chest, sleeping soundly underneath his throat while Alastor's arms seemed to form a somewhat protective cage around him.

- Smiling happily, you closed the door to the room and headed downstairs with everyone else. Heading back to the hotel and leaving a note for Alastor in the morning that encouraged him to catch up on lost time with your second-born. Satisfied that their bond was finally forming into something beautiful.

(Wow, I did not plan to get as invested in this as I did. I just let the story flow and got this, honestly I love it and would like to see some of my theories between Alastor and his Mom come to fruition. Anyways, I'll see y'all in the next post! Don't forget to comment something you might want to see me write next :D P.S Why the fuck did I post this without editing it..?)

[unforth]

I keep seeing posts comparing this to 2004 or other past election losses and how this feels the same or similar to those past times.

As another Old who voted in 2004 (and I missed voting in 2000 by a month and was furious about it) I really can't even put into words how vehemently I disagree.

In 2008, I remember very earnestly sitting down with some friends and saying that if somehow McCain beat Obama, I'd have to join the fucking revolution, because I couldn't believe that this country would elect a Republican AGAIN after the previous 8 years of bullshit. I look back now and think how incredibly naive I was, but I also look back now and think, damn, why aren't I 25 NOW? I can't join the revolution now, I'm 41 and I own a house and have two young children and one old parent depending on me.

Because honestly, truly, as someone who has been studying American history since I was 7, as a Civil War buff with expertise on the years before the Civil War, as someone who has at least some memories of every election since 1988... guys, this isn't the same as 2004. I was furious then. Swift Boat bullshit I swear to fucking dog. And I was and still am fairly convinced that the 2000 election was deliberately stolen. But also I still had every reason then to believe in the rule of law.

In 2004, I still believed term limits would be respected.

In 2004, I still believed a person who wasn't elected would demure gracefully to the winner.

In 2004, I still trusted the courts.

In 2004, I still believed that we'd made progress on bigotry.

I could go on, and to be clear, my point isn't "I thought these institutions were ~good~" in literally any objective sense. Y'all are cynical but my generation was raised by, surrounded by, Vietnam vets and trust me, there was no way to be a kid, seeing what the 70s did to this country, and not come out as cynical and furious as the best of um. (My grandfather was a World War 2 vet, as were his close friends. My father and both his brothers are Vietnam vets, tho my dad didn't go overseas.) But I did believe that even corrupt institutions, even broken racist systems, even fucking Republicans, would follow basic norms of democracy. They said they believed in the constitution and I believed them. I believed that, like Nixon, truly getting caught doing something insane would at least force a mea culpa and turn public opinion. I believed...

Well, I guess it doesn't matter.

Because I no longer believe any of that.

I have watched the guard rails disappear over my lifetime. I have watched the party who once spent 2 years pursuing a guy over a BJ in the oval office elect a convicted rapist. I have watched and at times I've participated and I've voted and I've organized and I've protested and I've read the news more days than not and I've lived and I've grown and I've learned.

I have been an adult, legally, for almost 24 years now.

Guys... there are no norms remaining on the far right. The guard rails are gone. The Fascists control the White House, the senate, the Supreme Court, and things aren't looking promising for the House.

The bus has no brakes anymore. They think they have a mandate - and I can't blame them, as horrifying as this mandate is, because if things had gone the other way and Harris had gotten these results I'd also think it was a mandate.

Please sit with what this means: Trump and the Republican party said, "hand us the reins and we'll make everyone you hate hurt," and more than half the people who bothered to vote said "sure buddy, here goes." We don't have a usurper this time. This is the country that the majority of Americans said they wanted. Whether they come to regret that or not, they saw open Fascism and went "oh yes, count me in." And it wasn't because of the electoral college this time. It was because this country is so bigoted and misogynistic that they'd rather have this than a woman of color in the office.

I'm sick of "well she didn't run a good campaign." (Lie.) I'm sick of, "well we didn't get a primary." (Who cares?) I'm *extremely* sick of "well, Palestine." (Yes! Democrats actions have made the suffering there so much worse! It fucking sucks! You know what's about to suck so much worse?)

15 million people who showed up for Joe Biden couldn't be fussed to place a vote for Kamala Harris. Whatever their reason for not voting, we all knew the outcome if she lost. And seeing open fascism didn't fire them up enough to make the effort, and that's fucking pathetic. The consequences of the worst happening mattered so little to them that they couldn't be fucking bothered to make the minimum effort to stop it, and now millions of people will suffer as a result.

Because here we are: the huge swathe of the country who wanted a strongman now have one.

Look, I don't know what happens next. But I do know, and remember keenly: after 2016, Trump did, or at least tried to do, most of the things he said he'd do. When he was stopped, it was often because of career government employees: judges, bureaucrats, etc. And this time, he's said he's going to purge those people. I don't know if he'll succeed, but I certainly believe he'll try.

This is not 2004 again.

This is 2024. The Republicans have ripped the mask to shreds, shredded apart the book of political norms, and empowered hate, and they've been handed a governmental mandate for stamped "have at with our blessing!" in exchange.

And now they'll use that mandate to make everyone they hate suffer: people of color, queer people, trans people, immigrants, non-Christians.

Don't assume the worst can't happen. I am a Jew, and I have a photo album full of black and white photos of dead people that constantly reminds me: the worst has happened and it can happen again.

Do not despair. Despair is enervating. Be furious. As we should be. These douche bags are repulsive. Be prepared to fight. Be prepared to flee. Be prepared to defend. Don't assume you simply can't do something. There's always something to do, and even the smallest act of defiance can help. There's never any knowing until after which acts of resistance will end up galvanizing the good and just out of their apathy. But that apathy is the enemy.

Because none of this is normal. None of this is "just like when..." Please stop saying it is.

And before anyone screams "privilege" at me, yes, I am in many ways. I'm white. I have access to some generational money even tho my own family lives paycheck to paycheck - we won't be rich but have enough of a support network to be comfortable. I live in a blue area of a blue state. But I'm also a woman (legally speaking, at least) married to another woman - since before Oberkfell, and yes I remember exactly what steps we had planned any time we wanted to leave our state. My wife has physical disabilities. We have two children. Both are biracial (half black). One is trans. We are caring for an elderly parent. I am Jewish and as my kids' birth parent, so are they. I own a publishing company that publishes the exact kinds of queer and kinky lit these people intend to ban. We tick so many boxes of what these people hate.

I know ya'll are scared. Trust me, I'm terrified. But fear is paralyzing. And that won't help. Whatever happens, don't lie down and take this shit.

When Gore lost I was one month shy of my 18th birthday and already in college. I have been fighting my entire adult life, and I'm exhausted. I'm much less able to fight now, much more tied down with responsibilities. But the fight isn't over. I'm checking our passports. I'm packing a go bag. I've convinced one vulnerable friend to move here and I have another who wants to and we're figuring out how to make that happen. I'm protecting who I can, starting with putting on my mask first. I don't know what will happen but if in the end all I can do is uproot my entire life to protect my children then I am preparing to do so. I can at least save them if no one else.

None of this is normal.

And I'm not sure, after Trump's in office, that anything will ever be normal again in the US. At least not the old normal. And there are ways that's a good thing, so many ways that the old normal sucked for so many people, and I'm optimistic that there's a bright future ahead, but man it looks far away right now. I don't want to go back to the old normal, and I want to be part of establishing a kinder, more just, more equal new normal, but we're a long way from there.

Whatever happens, we must endure. We must survive. We must support each other. We must find our allies and be prepared to compromise with them. Don't try to save everyone. You'll fail. Help even one person and you can change the world. Everyone things they can't do everything and so do nothing. That's insane. Do a single thing and it will be better than nothing. One phone call. One letter. One act of defiance. Very few people get the opportunity to grand gestures that matter, and the rest of us will die waiting for that moment. But the secret is that what makes those moments - the time when one person is in the right place at the right time for their action to matter - is built on millions of small moments by millions of people doing what little they can to make things slightly better. Think of every iconic photograph of a Sole Resistor you know of and think about every single tiny thing that had to happen for that moment to occur. Most of us will never me that one person, but that one person is a myth anyway. Countless tiny unseen moments create those myths. Doing literally anything is better than doing nothing.

And tooth and nail, quietly and loudly, in our homes and our towns and cities, during protests or when they come for our neighbors, we must fight.

[imastrangeone98]

Even after all this time, I am still so fucking unhinged about ✨boothill✨

I wrote a similar idea with Cyno from Genshin, but I just love the idea of a man going feral when their lover (aka YOU 😉) gets injured in any way... or even kidnapped

Boothill would be no different- the moment he sees even the slightest scratch on your cheek, his vision goes black. He's sniffing out the bastard who dared to lay a finger on you, brutal and unwavering in his hunt that lasts from sunup to sundown. He refuses to bend until it ends with a bullet in the asshole's head- what they dared to do to you, he'll do back to them, tenfold.

And heaven forbid you end up kidnapped- a bullet in the brain wouldn't even be enough to atone for the sin of taking you away from him. The blood and gore he would spill will fill oceans; no price is unthinkable for Boothill if it means that you will return to his arms, safe and sound.

And if it's Homecoming y/n, where the two of you only just reunited after believing the other died in the tragedy of your home planet.... They might as well count their days, because they are numbered.

As in, count each second they get to keep breathing- the next one will likely be their last.

He just got you back, after spending all these years believing you to be with his family in the eternal moon lily fields, and just the thought of having you ripped away from his arms once more is enough to break him permanently.

So when he returns to the now-shared ship and you do not rush to welcome him back like you normally do, that immediately sets him on edge. And when he tears the ship apart and finds a ransom note on your bunk instead of your warm body, his cybernetic brain instantly shuts down with the sheer overload of rage and insanity that swarms his neurochip.

A petal on his beloved moon lily has been torn.

A detestable, unforgivable sin.

His body works on overdrive- it helps that he's made of metal, because he works night and day without rest until he tracks down the hideout of those bastards who thought it'd be a smart idea to take you away.

Well, he can't say they're dumb- after all, they just figured out the fastest way to an early grave.

And that's a fact you too know all too well, judging by the bloodcurdling screams echoing through the hallways leading to your cell. In fact, you're almost grateful for the blindfold over your eyes, as there's no doubt blood soaking the metal floors.

The screams slowly begin to die out, one by one, leaving only the dull thud, thud, thud of heeled metal soles headed straight for you. There's a screech of metal, then a metallic warmth surrounding you. The familiar scent of gunpowder and cedar cologne clings to your nose, and you nearly buckle into Boothill's arms, shivering and weeping, clinging onto his shoulders.

"It's alright, now," he coos, making sure to wipe the blood on his hands before scooping you into his arms. "I'm here, moon lily. I ain't goin' nowhere."

(And it wouldn't be me without just the slightest touch of suggestiveness so...)

Clean from the blood and gore, Boothill gently tucks himself under your chin, nuzzling his nose into your neck, trying to remind himself that you're still here, you're still alive, you didn't slip from his fingers yet again.

If you did, only the aeons know what would happen to him.

"You saved me yet again," you coo, rubbing at the crease in his brows. "My hero."

"Sure as fudge don't feel like one," he mumbles, arms wrapping even more tightly around you. "I almost lost you. Again. I swore it wouldn't happen again, but-"

"But nothing. You found me. I'm safe and sound 'cause of you." You kiss the top of his head, moving down to his face to pepper his cheeks and forehead with more light kisses. "My brave cowboy. I'm alive all because of you. I must be the luckiest girl in the world."

Boothill finally melts under your affectionate administrations, tilting his head to meet your lips in a sweet kiss.

But you're wrong. Boothill knows that if anything, he's the one who's the luckiest in the world. You don't hate him for letting you be taken away, nor do you cower from his bloodstained hands. Instead, you embrace him with your soft arms wide open, with your even softer lips pressing hard against his own, and warm hands that tangle though his hair to keep him closer when he tries to pull away and give you some air. He feels the luckiest when you allow him to press against you even tighter, giving him access to the deepest parts of you, letting him see your bashful face, hear your sweet gasps and moans as he comforts you in the best way he knows how.

Boothill will never ask for anything more. All he needs is for you to be right here in his arms, forever his beautiful, strong, resilient moon lily. Forever his.