#I can post them all if anyone wants to see them

[l-in-the-light]

This cultural mechanism of denying humanity of certain individuals (most often villains) has a name. Rene Girard wrote about it in his book called The Scapegoat. I tried finding ANY reblog of this post which actually mentions this, but despite scrolling through at least half of reblogs, I couldn't find it, which means even if someone did point it out then it still went pretty much unnoticed.

We all know who or what a scapegoat is. It's that thing or that person, the root of evil, the source of chaos, the troublemaker, the trickster disrupting the long established safety and order (which is, ofc, the ultimate good). If you only get rid of the problematic individual, everything will be okay again. That's how it works. But there's a problem with it. There's never one scapegoat. After one comes another, and another, and another, till you get hundreds and thousands of them and you can't fit them in one neat grave or prison anymore. They keep coming and there will be more and more of them, this will never stop, because it's a cycle. A cycle of violence. If you really want for "things to be okay", you need to break that cycle, instead of finding YET another scapegoat, yet another villain to bury for all of our sins. By sacrficing another villain, another victim, another scapegoat on the altar of society, you only support the cycle to keep on going.

Yes, you heard me right. Villains are scapegoats. But victims ARE scapegoats as well. Anyone we forcefully silence and refuse to give agency to is the scapegoat. The homeless, the LGBT, the mentally different, any disabled people etc. Anyone who fits into a very broad category of "otherness". But here's the catch. Because this category is so broad it's very easy to become that "other". That's why people are willing to go to extreme lengths just to make sure no one sees them as "other". They will deny their disabilities, they will deny they're not like those "others", they will even deny their own struggles, just to fit into the safe mold of "normal". And if you silence yourself just because you're afraid you might be the next one victimized or villainized, you're also a scapegoat, btw. Your inner life and self-consistency is the sacrifice on the altar of society that doesn't care if you actually have a heart. All it cares about is for you to make sure you're "normal", which has a very murky definition too. Who's normal? The one who acts like the majority of others? The one who has the applause? (applause can be shortlived and depends on trends, it's dangerous, you're dancing on the edge). Every time we see someone as the "other" we judge, we're scapegoating them. Yes, all of us, by succumbing to our fear of being judged, contribute to this mechanism. Otherwise the seams of the society might fall apart and we can all turn against each other, we can rip apart the system, they warn us of anarchy, you might get killed in the middle of the street, there will be no police to guard the order, no prisons to keep the bad eggs away from you. Stay quiet, endure, it's for the safety of all of us.

No one should have to carry that weight of the whole world on their own shoulders. Not like this. But we do, every single day.

We're all capable of being bad people and often are. But we also all want to believe we're good. People think if someone didn't get love there's a reason of why they didn't receive it. That belief didn't come out of nowhere. It's internalized violence and judgemental mentality. You prefer to doom someone else as long as it saves yourself from being doomed. You're not only hurting others with it, but YOURSELF as well in the process. You get rid of your true empathy for others, you decide whose pain or suffering is the one "worthy" of acceptance and which is not and needs to be condemned. You can't afford that empathy for anyone else than you after a while, after all you live in constant, silent fear of "being next" if you just stop for a moment and look too long at the scapegoats buried around you. And what you fail to see is that you're also a scapegoat. If we all accept each other and ourselves as "others", if we're all just different people and no one is normal anymore, will this finally break the cycle?

You want to feel like a good person? Of course, we all do. But you can't achieve that if you're too afraid to look into the abyss/mirror and realize you also do bad things. You also need to redeem yourself. You can do better, but it's not easy. You know what's easy instead? Finding a scapegoat and blaming them for their own misery. Literally requires no work, the world will applause you and all you need to do is repeat same words after others. The mechanism works like a perpetuum mobile at this point, it will mostly do this job for you. Just take a stand, deem the villains, blame the victims, ignore the struggles and pain of others.

But here's the catch. If you're too cold, you're also gonna be judged and called a psychopath. That's also a no-no, you're becoming the unacceptable "other" again. You have to show, in specific, allowed circumenstances, that you feel sorry for others. That you know how to choose the "right" side. That you understand "good" needs sacrfices and sometimes you're even expected to cry for them. And if you see those sacrfices as not-human "others", it's easier to accept it all.

Many people claim how scary it is to face certain truths, like "victims can turn into villains too", but the real truth no one wants to face is actually this: we allowed this to happen. We allowed the villains to be formed, all of us. Every time we engage in judgemental actions, every time we police someone dealing with their pain "in wrong way", every time we call someone "born evil". Every time we point a finger and call someone a villain, a victim, a barbarian, the other. By doing that we trap them in endless world of pain and suffering and abuse. They also want to be out of that cycle, but we keep trapping them, by silencing them and adding our own narrative on top. They suffer for our sins. Because they're our scapegoat, the sacrifice we made to keep on going, thinking how good this world is and how much worse it could have been, just look in the right places. Just don't look at the scapegoats too long. They corrupt. Maybe their otherness is even contagious, so stay as far away from them as possible.

You're allowed to be mad about this, btw. Anger is a neccessary emotion, it points at injustice done to you. But the society wants you to throw that emotion away and supress it, so you're tamed and silenced. It might even create a "safe space" to vent it out, by encouragig you into physical activities or taking part in some entertainment, so you can lose your steam in a way that doesn't challenge the system. It's a distraction. (the point here isn't to condemn sport or popculture btw, it just serves as an example, ok?)

All communities work like this. We're all trapped in endless cycle of violence. We bury endless scapegoats under our communities, they become our foundations. After all, nothing unites different people better than finding a common villain, it's us (the good) vs them (the evil). Wait, did I just say "different people"? But we're supposed to be all the same! No, that's a myth. We were all always different. We just have to choose who is "more different than others", so we can unite ourselves against them.

You know what that reminds me of? "We're all equal. But some are more equal than others". Animal farm was about power structures. By accepting easy scapegoats, by abiding to this mechanism, we support the power system that oppresses us. Think about it. Our civilisation is build on this and it would not thrive the way it did without the scapegoats.

And all of you blaming christianity for this instead, you need to understand one thing. What Jesus taught was actually the reverse of scapegoating. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her”. This is literally Jesus telling people "you all have sinned, so why are you judging them if you don't judge yourself?". What you all mean by christian/puritanist beliefs is how christianity got distorted and institutionalized into a power abusing system called religion. Swallowed up by what it tried to fight against. Always identify the actual source of abuse, instead of doing more scapegoating. I'm in no way inclined to defend christianity (not in the form it exists now), but also if we keep on muddling the truth we will always make the same mistake, so, always dig deeper to avoid it. Thank you.

not to post even more Villains Discourse on main but it really bugs me how people read giving villains tragic backstories as inherently excusing their actions and/or demonizing trauma survivors.

the actual message of Tragic Villains is (almost) always “people who are never taught or given any healthy, constructive outlets for their emotions will often find unhealthy, destructive outlets.” it’s that people who are traumatized and never learn how to cope with that trauma can become a danger to themselves and others. the message isn’t “trauma makes you evil!!!!” or “genocide is okay if you’ve been sad before!!!!” it’s “people need compassion and help to recover from trauma instead of becoming increasingly angry and harming themselves and others in the process.”

this site takes an alarmingly behaviorist and punitive approach to everything and it’s literally the most annoying thing. y’all have this concept that “if we just punish people hard enough, if we just scare them enough, if we just make them feel guilty enough.” that people just Do Bad Things Because They Do Bad Things, I Guess, and Because We Didn’t Threaten Them And Shame Them Enough. but humans are an innately social species. at our very core, we need compassion and kindness. we need healthy relationships with other humans.

you can keep looking at traumatized villains and being like “haha this dumb pathetic sadboi thinks murder is okay because his parents died” but as a survivor myself, unaddressed/untreated trauma absolutely can make you ragey and destructive. i was lucky enough to have support and eventually get the treatment i needed. but it’s not hard at all for me to imagine how, if that hadn’t been the case, that could’ve been me. obviously not on a movie-villain scale like murder or war crimes, but it’s so irritating as someone whose trauma has always manifested as anger to watch people on this site be like “this is just bad writing!!! real survivors/good survivors don’t end up like that the writers just hate survivors and want the audience to condone murder!”

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Do you accept orders? could you do a story about Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce, on the day of the ball, the reader wears a dress that made her look more beautiful and cute than usual and was therefore drawing people's attention at the ball to she , would the boys be jealous or possessive? Would they punish the reader?

- 🌸

Hi anon 🌸!! I'm not taking requests for fics currently, because I've got quite a few ongoing projects, but you can check my pinned post or my header description to know whenever I am 💕! But I just HAD to blabber about that idea for a second because I LOVE jealous shenanigans

Viktor and Jayce both strike me as the jealous type, but in two very different ways.

Viktor is the more silent, envious type of jealous. He has too much self-respect to just throw himself in front of you dramatically. So, he watches. He overanalyses every look anyone gives you, any kiss of your hand that seems to last a second too long. He’s methodical, following you around like a shadow the entire night with a falsely polite smile plastered on his lips. It's just one night, he tells himself, one night of pompous nobles leering at your cleavage and showering you with compliments. In the end, it won't matter, because you'll be in his bed when this is over, not theirs.

He won't outright tell you he was jealous, because he's embarrassed at the idea of seeming childish, but boy, will he still let you know. Expect bite marks on every visible inch of your skin and the imprint of his pretty fingers around your neck and thighs. He'll probably edge you a few times, have you beg and moan his name in tears without letting you cum, just to feel like he's the one in control again. He's willing to admit he's a little petty when it comes to you.

Others might not know it was him when they see your smeared makeup and strategically placed bruises tomorrow, but you will, and that's really all that matters to him.

Jayce is the visibly possessive type of jealous. Is some diplomat telling you a funny story? Jayce doesn't give a damn about decorum. His hand will quickly wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him and he'll enter the conversation with a megawatt smile as if he's always been part of it. But his hand will stay firmly in place for everyone to see what's off limits. In fact, it would be almost impossible to find him not touching you in some way, whether that be by gently replacing wayward strands of hair or wiping away imaginary stains of wine around your lips. He can't help it, especially when he sees others look at you with the same desire that he has for you. He has to show that you're his.

Jayce will be especially talkative in bed after that, constantly mumbling your name under his breath as he fucks you, repeating the word ‘mine’ over and over again. He's very petty about it too, asking if you liked having everyone's attention on you, if you got off to strangers undressing you with their eyes. If he’s gotten really rilled up, the usual “baby” and “princess” might become a “whore” or “slut”. Always his whore though. Nobody else's. He doesn't say it to be mean, in fact he tends to feel bad afterwards, but he needs confirmation straight from your lips that you don't care about them. That the only one you want to ruin you is him.

If you oblige, you are getting fucked raw on the closest available surface for a solid three rounds. You're too tired for another one? That's alright, he’ll pump his cock in his fist right above your entrance, and only push in when he's ready to cum. He'll fill you until he’s satisfied no one could look at you and doubt for a second who fucked you that good.

[stellasdrafts]

The Light in His Eyes (Vendetta! Leon)

Summary: you have each other’s backs (Vendetta! Leon x DSO!Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: alcoholism (on Leon’s part), some vendetta leon comfort because that man needs it :(, no official relationship but mutual feelings are implied, pining…

Notes: a small Christmas-ish one-shot in january because it’s my blog and i make the rules (i forgot to post in december whoops). also sorry this one is christmas specific but christmas lights are very special to me and i wanted to write a little something about them <3

One of these days, these missions are going to kill you. You’re sure of it. You find yourself sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city, needing some fresh air after almost getting your head bitten off on call today. Being a D.S.O. agent isn’t for the faint-hearted and truth be told, sometimes you aren’t sure how you got this far in the first place. You close your eyes, deeply breathing in the cold, stuffy city air and listening to the night traffic below. What would it be like to live a normal, quiet life? For your only burden to be being stuck in the traffic below on your way home from your safe nine to five? Your heart aches when you have thoughts like these…

You’re snapped out of your mournful contemplation when someone clears their throat behind you. You whip your head around, startled. You barely register your fists clenching and muscles tensing up, ready to throw a punch or something, your tired brain registering the sound as the grunt of an infected.

“S’just me.” Leon lifts his hands, traipsing toward you. “Can I join?”

Your shoulders slump with relief. Truth be told, you wanted to spend time alone tonight, but Leon happens to be the one who saved your life today and you figure you owe him this much. “Mhm.” You nod and pat the freezing concrete beside you.

He takes the offered seat and leans back, propping himself on his arms. His warmth carries through the cold wind and seeps through your jeans. He’s only an inch or two away, after all. Despite your previous sentiment, his presence is oddly soothing. You’ve never met anyone as good as him in your field of work. He makes you feel safe, like somehow, you’re immortal in his presence because he always looks out for his team. It’s impossible, really. You know it’s a childish and dangerous mindset to have in this line of work, but there’s just something about him. You wonder how much that selflessness is destroying him from the inside….

Actually, the habituality of the liquor on his breath may already give you an idea.

“Quite a view, isn’t it?”

“Hmm?” You look up at him, noticing how his eyes are fixed on the sea of tall buildings before you. “Oh, yeah… I like the lights. I’ve always liked lights.”

A grin tugs at his lips. “Oh yeah?” He shifts to rest on one knee to get a better look at you.

You feel yourself melt under the older agent’s gaze. “Yeah. All kinds of lights…”

He just watches you for a moment and you find yourself silently cursing the extensive psychology training the government’s had you D.S.O. agents do. You’re sure he can read you like a book, seeing through the façade you’ve been tirelessly trying to keep up. He has his own, after all.

He looks out at the few festive lights wrapped around balcony railings and trees standing proudly in windows. “Like… Christmas lights?”

That reaches you. You turn your head to look at him with a dopey smile. “Especially Christmas lights. I miss them a lot.”

Your nostalgia must be contagious because he smiles at you too. You never see him smile anymore. In your few years of working together, you’ve never known him to be an extraordinarily sunny man, but it had worsened recently. Little to your knowledge, he likes seeing you smile, especially when it’s directed at him. “I didn’t know you liked Christmas so much. Maybe I should buy you a tree and some lights this year,” he jokes lightly.

You shrug, your smile fading a bit. “We never stay in one place long enough… And people don’t celebrate as much as when we were kids. It wouldn’t be the same.”

His expression softens considerably when he notices the shift in your demeanour. His lips pull into a much more familiar tight frown, his shoulders dropping a bit as well. “Yeah, I guess so…” he pauses for a moment, debating his next words. “We could make our own tradition, you know?”

You tilt your head, your smile fully sarcastic and sour now. “Sure. If we’re both still alive by holiday break.”

He grimaces, evidently not liking the sudden grim attitude, even if it carries truth. Ironic, you find yourself thinking, for a man with his attitude. “Don’t talk like that,” he chides softly, wrapping an arm behind you and dragging you a twinge closer. “I’m not letting you die anytime soon.”

And you know that coming from his lips, that’s a vow, not a weak promise. You lean into his warmth, the cold wind hitting you again now that you’re no longer in your cozy bubble of colourful lights and denial. “Right. Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” He gives your side a reassuring squeeze and resumes staring out at the dark skyline.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a minute or two, admiring (perhaps longingly) the people going about their lives in their apartments and offices. Parents putting their children to bed, couples cooking together, families watching what you self-indulgingly believe to be holiday movies in their decorated living rooms… Even the young man working alone at this hour of the night seems to sit with some sense of serenity. All possibilities of the lives you and Leon could have had if you hadn’t been pushed into the claws of the genius Division of Security Operations. He sighs – if in soul-crushing envy or in momentary peacefulness, you can’t tell. But his whiskey-ridden breath is warm and a welcome contrast to the cool winter night air.

You chew at your lip, getting a bit nervous. “You smell like booze,” you remark quietly.

“I know.” He chuckles and you know it’s a piss-poor attempt to cover how uncomfortable the topic of his drinking makes him feel. “You got a problem with that?” He scratches his neglected stubble.

You know a slightly hostile question is the best outcome for you. If it were anyone else starting an intervention, he would’ve raised his voice already. You’ve seen it first-hand with some other people on the team. “You’ve got a problem with that, Leon.” You stare blankly at the buildings ahead, your previous fascination and warmth for the sight dampened.

You feel Leon’s body stiffen beside you and his demeanour shifts. You look, and like you, he no longer seems as placated as he was a mere minute ago. His brows tug down and his gaze darkens. “Don’t do that. Not you,” his tone is surprisingly tender for being paired with his current expression.

He knows you mean well. He knows you’re worried about him. But he can’t bear having you look at him like everyone else does, like you have to tiptoe around him or like he’s always incompetent and inebriated. He looks away out of shame. He knows you’re right, but he’s stubborn and also knows that’s led to his downfall more than once.

“Are you even going to remember this tomorrow?”

Leon looks back up, his gaze stormy. His defensiveness gets the best of him, as it usually does in these situations. He’s angry, or at least he’s trying to be. But you’re sitting close enough to spot the gleam of self-hatred in those beloved blue eyes. “Why does it matter if I do or not?”

“Because believe it or not, our conversations actually mean a lot to me.” The weight of your words hangs between the pair of you for a moment. “And it’s dangerous to day drink with a job like ours. We never know when we’ll get called out. It’ll get you killed,” you add to try and save face as if you don’t care more about him than you do the other agents.

He cringes a bit more at that, and his anger falters in favour of discomfort. He sighs and leans an elbow on his knee, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.”

You tuck your knees up to your chest, even his body heat isn’t enough to cancel out the cold between you now. “That’s what worries me. You act like it’s fine, it’s normal. You don’t even act drunk anymore. You don’t… slur your words or stumble around or vomit everywhere. Apart from being angrier… depressed… you behave normally when you’re drunk.” You turn your body in his direction, trying desperately to get through to him. “You’re not even you anymore. Isn’t that scary?”

He exhales again, letting his hand drop from his face. He knows you’re right. Damn it, you’re always right, but he can never bring himself to admit it. “I… I don’t get what the big deal is. I do my job – well, if I might add. I don’t get into bar fights with random civilians… unless they ask for it. I supply my own drinks and keep to myself. So why’re you worrying?”

You take his face in your hands, your expression softening. Maybe he won’t lie to your face if he’s looking right at it. “Leon, drop the act, please.” From what you hear, he’s a shell of the person he used to be.

His eyes widen with surprise. He doesn’t answer anything for a few moments, your gentle touch making his mind go blank for a second. He can’t remember the last time anyone was gentle with him. He knows he can’t argue when you use that tone or when you have that look in your eye. “Fuck…”

He practically sags onto you as he lets himself feel everything he’s been drowning in alcohol for months. You have an agonizing way of making the tension in his body disappear with nothing but a few words in that honeyed tone of yours.

You support his weight. Like you always do, as he always does yours. Because it’s just Leon. You’d never let him fall, in any sense of the word. “You know, how are you supposed to put up that tree and the lights you offered me if you’re too drunk to make sense of anything? I’m not letting you in my room at HQ if the drinks are making you a grouch, either.”

He does want to give you that, a tree grand and worth being yours, pretty lights you can stare at while you doze off in the evenings, Christmas itself… More than anything, he wants to make you happy. The thought alone makes him happy. He huffs and looks away to hide his smile. “Yeah, yeah. Damn you.”

You let out a breath and a smile of your own, feeling relieved that you got to him at least a little bit. “Try again, please… At least to cut back. We can do it this time.”

He tenses again at your request. It’s not an easy one, and he’s reluctant to agree, not sure if he can even will himself to cut back so easily. But you’re too close, too warm, and you’re using that damn tone in your voice that always gets to him. He wants better for you. For himself, too. A shot at a better life. “I’ll try. Try. For you, alright?”

You hum. “That’s all I ask.” You bring up a delicate hand and brush some of that pesky hair out of his face.

He practically melts into your touch, too tired to bother hiding the effect you have on him. You both know something has been lingering between you for a while, anyway. “Anything else you want from me?” he mutters in a teasing tone, trying to lift the atmosphere he feels he ruined.

You chuckle lightly. “Probably, but we’ll work towards those things later on.”

He perks up at that, a smug smirk toying at his lips as he picks up on the implications of your words. “Y’gotta be a little more specific than that.”

Your eyes soften. Not now. Not like this. “I’ll tell you when you’re sober.” Your timbre isn’t unkind – it’s careful, genuine… You’re trying to encourage him more than anything, knowing he always fares well with a challenge or an end goal.

The muscles in his face ease as well. He gives a small nod. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You feel a spark in your chest of something you haven’t felt in a long time – hope. “So will I.”

You’re more determined than ever to bring back that light to his eyes.

[becauseimswagman1]

Temporary

Roman Reigns x reader

Warnings: THAT NASTY 18+ SO MDNI, spanking, usage of "good girl". dirty talk, mild masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT!), cum swallowing, pussy eating

----------------------------

“Listen, that woman at the gym doesn’t mean anything! She’s just a trainer.” he pleaded with you as you tried to escape his arms.

“Joe, we’re done!”, you pushed out of his hold and walked towards the bedroom you two shared. Every time you put clothes in your suitcase, he took them right back out. He doesn’t want you to leave.

The woman at the gym really is just a trainer, she just overstepped her boundaries even after he told her he had a girlfriend. You’re one of the best things that ever happened to him ever since he got seriously hurt two years ago. 

“How can we be done? You’re not even hearing me out!” he grabbed you by your hands and kissed both of them, “I love you, and only you. You’re the woman I want to marry and the woman I want to be the mother of my children. Baby, please. Don’t leave. We can work this out.”

“Joe…” You wanted to believe his words so badly and you did, but there was something in the back of your mind that wouldn’t let you lean into it fully, “I need a break. You let that bitch into your space, close enough to put her lips on you.”

Joe couldn’t hold back the scowl on his face as he dropped your hands, “A break.” he scoffed, “Okay. Take your break, take all the time you need actually. Just promise me that this isn’t the end of us.” Cupping your face in his large hands and staring into your eyes, “Promise me.”

You made the mistake of letting a tear fall, he wiped it away just as quickly though. He was always there to wipe your tears, but this time you needed to dry them on your own. 

“This isn’t the end. I can’t tell you when I’ll be back, but I will.” you finished packing some of your things, and then you left. 

This was something you two could work through. You saw the entire thing with miss girl at the gym, pushing up on your man. You weren’t gonna break things off with him. The problem was with the reaction Joe had. You don’t know if he was in shock and couldn’t believe she did it or what, but him not immediately pushing her off and giving her the cursing of a lifetime pissed you off. He didn’t kiss her back, but seeing with your own eyes that he just let it happen made you wanna fight something. She had been lucky you were feeling classy. So, you needed space. Just enough to figure yourself out. 

----------TWO WEEKS LATER -------

The break had gone on longer than either of you expected. Thankfully the media hadn’t caught onto the way the two of you were never seen together. 

The first week of the break was full of Joe texting you nonstop, ensuring you were safe. The second week, you started worrying as you got a call from Josh telling you that he had started to miss sessions at the gym and snap at him and the other wrestlers for trying to talk to him. You knew Joe wouldn’t miss a session and even snap at them out of actual anger, so you decided to check in on him. 

When you got to the house you shared, Joe’s car wasn’t there so you let yourself in. There were empty bottles thrown everywhere and the picture frame of y’all’s first anniversary was broken. You felt that he would be sad, but not like this. And you knew this sadness would turn into anger soon enough because you knew he felt like he couldn’t talk to you or anyone about this.

You had thought over the situation and it truly wasn’t enough to ruin an amazing relationship. You were ready to come back and really talk things out and get back to how things were and be better. 

As you were attempting to pick up the bottles while avoiding the small amounts of glass, you got an alert on your phone. It was one of Joe’s friends posting about how “The Tribal Chief” would be in the club tonight. If that’s how he wanted to play then you’d do it too, but of course, better. 

Later that night, you called up your girls and told them what happened. They agreed with your plan to show up at the club and get your man back. It was nine-thirty when you showed up and nine-thirty-one when he noticed you in one of his favorite dresses. The short strapless one that practically left nothing to imagination if you leaned over slightly. It looked like you weren’t checking for him, but you clocked him, and the bitches he had flocking on him like some birds. 

You and your friends got a booth and ordered bottles. The night was honestly going great, you kept your eyes on Joe and vice versa. You were getting ready to walk over to him so you two could leave together until one of them chickenheads started dancing on him and he wasn’t trying to push her away. 

“Two could play that game, Joe.” you thought as you went over to a group of guys and asked the cutest one to dance. Short-haired guys weren’t your type, but it’s not like you were trying to take him home.

Joe saw y’all but he wasn’t worried. You know where home is and so does he, but he’s petty so he was letting the girls dance on him. He knew you were putting on a facade when dancing on this random dude. He also knew once the guy overstepped your boundaries, you’d go off on him. He learned that the hard way, sometimes his jaw still hurt with how hard you punched him the first night y’all met. 

The song that played was coming to an end, he knew you never danced to more than one song at a time. Something about you always wearing heels that looked cute but not cute enough to wear for a prolonged period of time. He saw you turn away from the guy and bid him goodbye, but the guy held your arm. The guy wasn’t getting the hint. Joe wasn’t going to step in, he knew you could handle yourself so he let it play out a little. 

This guy wasn’t letting up, he was gripping your arm and pulling you close to him despite your protest. You were getting upset and ready to put him on his ass until he pulled you so close that he kissed your neck. Joe was over there in an instant.

“Yo, let go of my woman!” he quickly got between you and him, standing up straight to make himself appear bigger, “I know she asked you to let her go, so why didn’t you? Thinking you was gone dance your way into not just some pussy but her pussy. Bruh, back up. That shit belongs to me.”

The guy sucked his teeth, “She ain’t even worth it. Just some random bitch to me. And her pussy belong to you? Seems like it belongs to everybody that wants some. Look at how she dressed. How you let your “woman” walk out the house dressed like a h-” the guy was cut off by Joe knocking his ass out. 

“Let’s go.” was all he spoke before walking towards the exit. You quickly followed behind him after grabbing your purse from the table where your friends watched everything go down.

The car ride home was silent. This was the anger you knew was coming after the sadness. You just didn’t know it would’ve been brought on like this. Joe wasn’t the violent type outside the ring, so to see him put his hands on someone really shocked you. As soon as you two entered the house, you were pushed against the door and kissed like somebody’s life depended on it. To Joe, it was his. 

He pulled away and said words you weren’t expecting, “I’m sorry.” 

You were expecting him to completely fix this with sex since that’s how you two fixed problems in the past, but this was a different type of problem.

You put a hand on his cheek, “It’s okay baby.” It was okay, you had sort of moved on. Sure, you still wished he had reacted differently but he was your baby. You missed him. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve pushed her off. I was surprised that she got the idea that she could do that, especially after I told her about you. That doesn’t excuse what happened, though. If it makes you feel any better, the guy that owns the place fired that girl for unprofessionalism.”

That did make you feel better and you tried to hold it in, but damn did it feel good, “Oh hell yeah! I know that’s right.”

Joe moved his hands from your face down to your waist, “Now hold on, I’m the one that asked him to fire her.”

“Yeahhh,” you put your hands around his neck and leaned up to his face, “but he took action when you should’ve.”

“So that’s how you’re gonna play it?”, he picked you up and put you over his shoulder, “Now I’m gonna fuck you up for two things.”

“Wha– Joe? What the hell?!” 

“Fucking you up for letting that guy at the club get that close to you. You put me on my ass upon first meet so why was it so hard to do that with him? And I’m fucking you up for discrediting me on getting that girl fired.”

Was the second one petty? Hell yeah, but this is Joe you’re dealing with. The petty king.

He carries you to the bedroom, smacking your ass whenever you pinched his, and tossed you on the bed. 

“Get in position.” 

You knew what that meant, so you quickly got on your hands and knees. He pulled your dress up and saw the thong you had on. He bit his lip, “Damn baby, you must’ve known you was gonna get some tonight huh?”

“No, it’s just the only panties I could wear with this dress.”

He smirked, “Liar. Now count like the good girl I know you are.”

A loud smack echoed in the room, “One.” you had whispered it and that wasn’t good enough for him. 

“Louder or I fuck you until I get off and I leave you here begging.”

“One!” 

“That’s better. Now keep that up. Ten more should do just fine right?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again, coming down on your right cheek, harder than the first.

‘Two!” 

Only two smacks in and he could see a wet spot form on the small fabric covering your pussy, “My baby getting wet already? From two smacks at that. I’ve seen and felt you get wetter for less so this isn’t that much of a shock.”

Nine painfully arousing smacks later, your ass was deep red and you were soaking through your panties. He ripped your panties off and rubbed through your wetness, “So wet for me.”

You nodded your head and arched your back just as you knew he liked it. 

“Play with it. Get it creamy for me.”

You did as told, truly playing with yourself. Slapping your clit, dipping your fingers inside your hole then sucking the juices off, really giving him a show. He let you do what you wished until he saw the signs that you were going to come. 

He slapped your ass once more to stop you, “Take your fingers out.” Once you did, he sucked the juices off. “Mm, you taste so good, baby.”

“Are you gonna fuck me now?”

“In a bit. Be patient.” He bent down to taste you right from the source, drowning himself in how wet you were. Flicking your clit with his tongue, drawing the lewdest sounds from you. He started to fuck you with his tongue while rubbing your clit with his thumb, “Come for me, baby. Be a good girl and come. Daddy wants to taste you even more.”

Your thighs started shaking and it was getting tougher to hold yourself up, “Ooh fuck! Joe! I’m coming!” and just like the feeling was gone, he had edged you because of a careless mistake. 

“What’s my name? Say it again for me?” he said while rubbing your clit with a little more pressure. 

“D-Daddy!” 

“Mhm, that’s right.” He pinched your clit a little and went back to rubbing it, applying the same pressure he was before. “Baby girl wants to be good right? Be good and let it all out.”

You started to grind against his fingers like it almost wasn’t enough. Joe knew what you needed, you just needed to come first so he could give it to you how you deserved. 

“Fuckkkk,” you dragged out your words, “Don’t stop. Pleaseee, don’t stop.” 

He rubbed you a little faster and you came with “Daddy” never ceasing from your lips. 

“That’s a good girl,” he rubbed you softly until your thighs stopped shaking, “You ready for daddy now?”

“Mhm.” 

He sat up behind you and undressed, then pulled you back to the edge of the bed still on your hands and knees so you wouldn’t have anywhere to run.

Rubbing a hand in between your legs and rubbing the wetness he collected from your against his dick. “So fucking wet baby.” he pushed his tip in and you were already running from it. “Nah baby, I ain’t even all the way in yet. Stop all that running.”

He gripped your hips and pushed himself in fully. “Damn, you tight. I love this pussy baby. Don’t ever second guess that.” 

He started to move, slowly at first, but soon enough he was pounding into you. Showing you that you belonged to him and only him. 

“Oh, fuckkkk yes. Right there, Daddy!”

“Right there?” he started angling his hips to hit that spot, “I’m hitting that spot huh?”

“Mhmmm, yes. Harder please.”

He listened to you and went harder, but you reached back and tried to push him away. His strokes almost became too much. 

“Nah, baby don’t run from it. Take it like I know you can.” he rubbed the middle of your back, “Put that arch back. Take this dick.”

You started clenching around him, feeling your orgasm approach you suddenly, “Daddy... fuckk I’m gonna come!”

“Daddy’s right behind you. Come for me, baby.”

He didn’t stop fucking into you when you came, he just slowed down enough to give it to you deep.

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that,” he pulled out and stroked himself at a fast pace, “come catch your prize.” He helped you flip over and he stood up on the bed to come on your face.

“Shit, open that mouth, wide baby.” He kept stroking until he came, most of it landing in your mouth. When you swallowed, you licked the remaining substance off his dick. 

He pulled you off by your hair, “Lemme see.”

You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, showing him that you swallowed and there was nothing left. 

“That’s a good girl,” he leaned down to kiss you, tongue and all, “Now let’s get cleaned up.” 

A relaxing bath later, you and Joe were lying in towels on the bed. You were ready to fall asleep, worn out after what felt like the fuck of your life. Joe had so much energy left. 

Sleepily, you moved into his arms, “How are you not dead tired right now?”

“It’ll pass. Just need to calm down a little. Still keyed up after tonight.”

“Okay. Well, I’m tired.” you yawned right after the words left your mouth. 

Joe chuckled, “I can tell. Go to sleep, I’ll be in dreamland with you shortly.”

All you could do was a little “mhm” before you fell asleep, surely going to dream about all the dirty things that’s gonna happen in the morning. Whenever Joe has this much energy when he falls asleep it’s gonna lead to a very good morning. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered into your hair then kissed your forehead, “And I know you love me too.” 

He cuddled up to you and fell asleep.

---------------

PLEASE tell me what y'all liked in the comments. Feedback feeds me!

Taglist: @sharmelasworld @itsbackwoodsbby @papithetia @ayeeeitsmiracle @femdisa @luvrsluxe @megamindsecretlair

[transhumanisticpanspermia]

Okay yes but who or what is saying that.

Example above, The Good Place - relational forgiveness plays very little role in the story across all 4 seasons. Where present it isn't really related to the overarching "reform of moral evaluation" that the series culminates in.

The one everyone likes to get mad about, Steven Universe - goes to great lengths to explicitly disabuse the viewer of any notion that forgiveness is a prerequisite to growth. In case you didn't catch it the first time around, there's an entire epilogue miniseries that drives home the point that Steven still dislikes the reformed antagonists and doesn't really 'forgive' them, even though he works with them on improving. It's a professional relationship.

You could make the strongest argument that this notion appears in the one from our childhood everyone talks about, ATLA re: Zuko, but even there he has to get very far into the personal journey to become a better person before anyone he wronged even considers working with him and trusting him, let alone forgiving him. Forgiveness happens but it's not a prerequisite, it's a something that some of the people he hurt choose to provide him after he works on himself.

This post was about media and IRL, and similarly, I do not see many people going around saying "the first step of becoming a better person is apologizing." At least, not in spaces that have reasonable levels of contact with the world outside the computer. It happens in some insular hyper-online groups but that's because those are the groups where everyone is trying super hard to give each other adult onset moral OCD. Venture out into the spaces IRL where people work on self improvement and you'll find frequent admonishments not to malinger looking for forgiveness. In the 12 step program, apologizing and making amends doesn't even come in until step 9, you aren't supposed to expect forgiveness, and you aren't even supposed to attempt apologizing/amends-making to people it would ultimately hurt.

I wouldn't assign any credence to this "pushback" beyond projection. People always want excuses not to take difficult but good advice, and "I have a preconceived notion that you're asking the impossible [i.e. finding forgiveness from those I've wronged]" is a great projection you can use to tune out that advice.

the concept and idea of “you can always start trying to be a better person” is extremely important to me both in media and irl and i continue to be deeply deeply disturbed by the trend on this site pushing that these ideas in media are bad writing or even morally reprehensible

because theyd rather someone stay terrible or just straight up die than become a better person 

from a compassionate point of view it’s deeply distressing and from a pragmatic point of view it’s outright frustrating

it’s fucked up. 

[henrikvanderhussy]

How to play the original Secrets Can Kill in 2025 without game discs

oh my god I almost just wrote 2015 instead of 2025

I've successfully been playing the original SCK for the past couple hours (including "changing discs" and reopening save files), but it's possible I could run into problems later, so no promises that this is a perfect solution.

This method still requires installing the game files, so I think it'll only work on Windows, sorry Mac users. I'm using Windows 11. I was also able to install and open the game on a Windows 10 computer, but I didn't actually attempt to play it there.

All you need are copies of the game .iso files and a virtual hard disk drive program. The post got long, so details are under the Keep Reading. It's not actually complicated, but apparently I talk a lot lol

The .iso files:

.iso files are digital replicas of optical discs (CDs, DVDs, etc). You probably don't have the original Secrets Can Kill discs, so you will need to...acquire these files.

[NOTE: My personal ethics say to not pirate shit from small studios or independent creators. HeR is a small studio and if people don't buy stuff from them, they can't afford to make new games. However, the original SCK is abandonware and literally can't be purchased, so imo, it's perfectly acceptable to pirate it.

I want to strongly discourage anyone from pirating any of the other games which can be purchased. They have 50% off sales all the time (including through today, 1/5/25) and a bunch of the games are as low as $5 when on-sale. The digital downloads don't come with any kind of restrictive licenses, so if you get a new computer, you can transfer the files and keep your games forever. Pls keep supporting HeR so that we can maybe keep getting new games]

I recommend getting the SCK .iso files from archive.org. That link will take you to a software search for Nancy Drew Secrets Can Kill. As of this post, there's only 1 result that's actually for the original SCK.

Anytime you're downloading software from a site where anyone can upload stuff, there's always a possibility of viruses. Check and see if the uploader seems sketchy (Are there comments on any of their uploads warning about viruses? Is the account brand new?). You could run the files through a virus checking program, but apparently .iso files frequently throw false positives. The SCK uploader seemed legit, but I initially downloaded and installed these on an old computer that I don't use, just in case.

There will be a bunch of files available to download. You specifically need to download the "ISO IMAGE" files. There should be two of them- disc 1 and disc 2. After downloading, I recommend moving the files out of your downloads folder because you'll need to access them frequently.

The virtual hard disk drive program:

Like I said above, .iso files are digital copies of physical discs. Similarly, the way to use the files is via a digital version of a physical disk drive. "Mounting" the .iso files to a virtual disk drive is analogous to inserting a disk into a physical drive.

Windows 8 and above has a built-in ability to mount .iso files, but when I tried that, I got a notice that the file was corrupted. The internet recommended that a dedicated program might have more functionality. I chose the Elby Virtual CloneDrive program, which is free.

Installing the game:

After downloading and installing the virtual disk drive software, navigate to your .iso files, and right click on the file for disc 1. Scroll to "Open with", and choose "Mount Files with Virtual CloneDrive". It will now show up as a CD drive in This PC in the file explorer:

Double-click to open the drive and scroll to "setup.exe". Open the file to run the game installer.

The game will install in a typical way. I think the only non-default option I chose was "No, I will install DirectX myself". I didn't actually install DirectX, but everything is working fine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, maybe now it's built-in to Windows or something.

Running the game:

To run the game, just open the game shortcut like a normal program. If you can't find the shortcut or didn't create one during the install, go to your C: drive -> Program Files (x86) -> Nancy Drew -> Secrets Can Kill -> Game.exe

In order for the game to run, you need to have Disc 1 still mounted to your virtual drive. Unless you specifically unmounted it, it should still be there, but if you get a pop-up that says to insert the disc, the problem is probably that the disc isn't mounted.

I was expecting that I would have to run the game in Compatibility Mode to handle that it was made for fucking Windows 98, but I didn't have to do anything. It just worked with no adjustments. A miracle!!

Changing discs:

The original Secrets Can Kill was too big to fit on a single disc at the time it was made! They split it across multiple discs by location. The school is on disc 2, while all other locations are on disc 1. So if you need to move from the diner to the school for example, you have to change discs.

When you need to change discs, you'll get this screen:

WITHOUT closing the game program, minimize the game. Easiest way is by either pressing the windows key or alt+tab. Navigate to your .iso files, right click on the new disc, and choose Mount.

Navigate back to the game and click OK. Easy as that!

Whenever you fully exit and re-open the game, you have to open it with disc 1 mounted. So if you saved while at the school, you'll open the game with disc 1, load your save, and immediately switch over to disc 2.

And I think that's everything! Phew! This got a lot longer than I planned on. Feel free to send me questions if you're having trouble, but I may not know the answer. I'm not an expert in this stuff, I just spent some time poking around at it last week is all.

Have fun! Go manatees!

[tickly-trashcan]

Hear Me Out Cake Event!!

This is the wildest idea for an event I've had but... HEAR ME OUT!!!

In this event, we'll be putting our own tickly twist on the hear me out cake trend!! For our hear me out cake, we'll put the characters we'd like to see get tickled on the cake!! >:) I'll explain more below the cut, but I'd also like to extend an invitation for other creators to jump on this event if they'd like!! :D The event will be starting next week on January 12, so keep an eye out for that!

Here's a quick summary of the event, but I will also explain more hehehe~ There are three stages to this event! The first stage is the Hear Me Out!! stage, where you'll pick out a character you'd like to put onto the cake! The second stage is where all of the characters on the cake are announced, which I'm calling the Big Slice or Little Slice stage! The final stage is called Serving the Cake, and it is where the cake is sliced and all the characters on the cake are given a slice of cake (in the form of tickles! >:D)

Hear Me Out!! Stage:

The first stage of the event! This will run from Jan. 12 through Jan. 18 and will be everyone's opportunity to submit a character for the cake! To submit a character, just send me an ask with the character you'd like to submit for the cake! Please specify the fandom as well :) If you'd like to go above and beyond, then feel free to explain why you want to put this character on the cake!! I'll be posting the asks as they come in before posting the final list of characters, so this is where we can all get silly and talk about the characters we love!

One note for this event: I'm really hoping the community gets together for this event, so if there's a character from a fandom that's not on my personal fandom list, still send them in!! I'll be writing for characters that I know about, but if there's a character that you love, you should send them in! If I don't know them, maybe someone else will end up picking them!

Big Slice or Little Slice Stage:

The second stage of the event! This stage will start on Jan. 20 when the full list of characters is posted! During this stage, any creator can pick out however many characters they'd like to write for and start creating whatever they'd like for them!! Art, fics, whatever you'd like to make! There's no limit on who you can write for or draw in this event but also don't feel pressure to create something for every character on the list!

Another note: The dates after the Hear Me Out!! stage are all pretty iffy just so y'all know! Ideally I'll have the list up on Jan. 20 but it could be later, and also the time frame for the Slicing the Cake stage is super flexible for creators! Don't feel pressure to stick within that time (I will for sure be posting outside of the time given haha)

Serving the Cake Stage:

The final (and most fun!) stage of the event! This stage will start on Feb. 3, two weeks after the full list of characters is shared! This is when anyone can start posting their slices of character cake onto Tumblr to share! You are also more than welcome to post before this time, it's just a rough time frame hehe~ If you're participating in this event, please use the tag #cakes and tickles so that everyone can follow along with the event! It's a terrible tag but it'll work haha! There's no technical time limit on the event, but I was thinking the posting period could be from Feb. 3 through Mar. 3 just for a fun little "month" of cake! But like I said before there is absolutely no pressure to do it within that time frame, just make sure to have fun if you decide to participate!! I'll try and reblog as many tickly creations as I can, so make sure to use the tag above hehehe :D

And that's pretty much it!! This is a crazy event and I'm really hoping that other people participate (if not that is all good there is NO pressure I just thought this would be a fun little community thing haha)! I'm looking forward to the best hear me out cake EVER!!!

If you have any questions about this event prior to it beginning, please don't hesitate to send me a message or an ask! I think I explained everything but there could easily be something that I missed! Thank you guys and look forward to this! :D

[madhattervanessa]

Care

Summary: A bad day.

Warnings: uhm, depression naps, loss and regaining of appetite, excessive sleeping, Simon lets himself in, fluff

Words: 1171

A/N: This is very self-indulgent but I felt like posting it anyways. Sending love to anyone who can relate.

Requests are open as always.

Masterlist - Mobile Masterlist

-

You let your water glass clink against the sink and move back towards the sofa. The morning sun is barely peeking through the curtains but you feel tired.

The walking pad you had gotten remains unused as you lie down.

Everything hurts. There are days like this, where it just does and a bone-deep tiredness just blinds you, pulling you to sleep, even though you had already slept for 10 hours.

It’s no use trying to resist.

So you sleep, again, curled up on the couch under your blanket.

It’s already enough that you don’t go to work but when Simon texts you, asking where you are, it makes you hide underneath the blanket even more.

You don’t want to bother anyone with your sudden, overwhelming sadness, is what you text back. You really don’t.

Another text.

You ignore it.

When you wake up again, it’s well into the afternoon, almost approaching evening.

At least you feel comfortable now, still tired and sad, but comfortable.

The creak of your front door makes you freeze, going completely stiff, as the door falls back into its lock.

The heavy footsteps are familiar and you tug your blanket away from your face just in time to see Simon appearing in the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything, just stands in the door frame for a moment.

He approaches with care. It's like you can feel his heavy gaze on you as he rounds the couch and comes to another halt right in front of you.

And then he produces a paper bag and puts down a steaming paper cup (a little cardboard sleeve already wrapped around it), right in your eye sight, on the coffee table.

You furrow your brows and already feel tears gathering in your eyes. So you ruck the blankets a little higher. The dull sound of your water bottle hitting the wood of the table follows.

He puts the paper bag down, too.

Then, he just turns on his heel and leaves again, locking the door behind himself.

You fall into an uneasy slumber after that, but manage to take a few sips of the drink he had brought you, before hiding underneath the blanket again.

The next time the door opens, he locks it behind him.

The warm, savoury smell of food wafts through the air but this time, Simon’s footsteps are so quiet, you wouldn’t know he was inside if you hadn’t heard the lock turn, moving through your kitchen like a ghost.

You sigh and push your nose deeper into the cushions.

You jump when you feel Simon sitting down on the couch, already having nodded off again.

He wordlessly checks how full the water bottle and the paper cup are, before gently pushing them to your side and setting down the crinkly, white plastic bag in his hand. It clinks metallically as it hits the table and your eyes automatically follow the movement of his hands.

He unpacks a plethora of black boxes, some of them steaming, some seeming cold.

You recognize the packaging immediately- your favorite sushi place.

You can feel your mouth salivate a little, a sudden ache pulsing behind your eyes that reminds you that you had barely had breakfast before you had slept for another eternity.

He puts down two beers and one of those yuzu lemonades you like to get sometimes, before he eventually leans back. He glances at you before demonstratively patting the cushions, obviously searching for the remote.

You huff and carefully extend an arm out of your cocoon to reach for it. 

He hums when you give it to him.

When he opens his beer with one hand, you instantly realize that you desperately need to go pee.

Simon’s gaze follows you, as you get up and quickly retreat to the bathroom.

As soon as you are back, you stop in your tracks.

Simon has spread out all of the food on the table, containers opened.

Additionally, he has put a blanket on himself, his legs spread invitingly.

You chew on your lip and hesitate for a moment.

He wordlessly flips the blanket open and meets your eyes.

You keep chewing on your lip but you are cold and you know Simon is a walking a heater. 

So you cave and crawl into the offered space.

Simon manhandles you until you are comfortably sitting back against his chest.

He is quick to positively swaddle you in the blanket, making sure to fold the edges down underneath your feet. On screen, a trashy dating show is already on, running on low volume.

He grabs one of the boxes and wordlessly deposits it on your lap. You quickly notice a second pair of chopsticks lie in the box as he starts to eat.

It takes him getting through just one of the takeout boxes for you to grab hold of the chopsticks and start getting into a few of the side dishes, before you eventually start picking out your favorites from the other boxes. Behind the armrest of the couch, Simon carefully collects them in another bag as soon as you are both done with them.

As the show goes on, you eventually come back to doing your little quips, commenting on who you think is a toxic asshole and how the women deserve better. Simon grunts his approval or murmurs something about those bloody idiots, while steadily making you eat up the rest of the food.

With your belly full and your mind busy with the trashy tv show, you don’t even notice the time going by. Simon keeps you warm, his hands constantly rubbing over your skin, petting at your waist, wrapping his arm over you, rubbing his cheek against your temple.

When the last episode finally wraps up, Simon turns you in his arms until you can nuzzle into his neck.

He lets his hand stroke over your back as you try your best not to let the weight of the day get to you again, the aching emptiness.

He just holds you, silently. Providing you with the steady up and down of his breathing and the blissful absence of any questions.

Eventually, his hand wanders up to gently wrap around the nape of your neck, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb in slow circles over your scalp.

“D’you want me to stay over?”

You don’t answer.

You do, you desperately do, but this already feels like you have required too much of him. All of your thoughts are circling around being a burden, not even being able to open your fucking mouth-

“Tell you what”, he mutters, “‘m gonna watch a few episodes of a show I wanna see. Finish my beer. You just stay there and keep me warm and comfortable, yeah?”

You make a non-committal sound.

He switches on some sort of moody, crime focused show and keeps petting you. His thumb strays from your hair to your pulse every now and then, gently stroking over it, until your eyes eventually fall shut and you drift off.

-

[youhavethesun]

saw a tiktok on pinterest (because I don’t have tiktok lol) about how annoyed someone was that Rory had given up all her hopes and dreams ‘because of one comment from a man’. and I know this was meant as a joke but honestly I wonder if this is how a lot of people view this plot line. I’ve seen so many people talking about Rory’s ‘downfall’ and how she was so unable to handle criticism/that she fell apart from a single comment etc.. and I just honestly can’t see how people continue to view it this way.

I think there are honestly a lot of factors that influenced Rory’s breakdown after Mitchum’s comment, but first of all I quickly want to say that (I know this is controversial but I genuinely do not care) I don’t think her leaving Yale was a bad thing!!! It was treated as this ultimate sin, (maybe this is for another post idk) but honestly I think Rory made the right decision. I don’t think the right decision was obviously her giving in to the lifestyle Emily wanted for her/joining the dar and so on, but actually taking a break from formal education I think could have been positive, all through season 4 we see how much of a toll college is taking on Rory, and I think taking a year out if she knew she was going back and using that year to rest and learn more about herself could have been really beneficial.

anyway sorry for the tangent, okay so the first thing is that a lot of people seem to view Rory’s conversation with Mitchum as a single interaction which caused her ‘downfall’, and everything was a domino effect from then on, instead of looking at it as the straw that broke the camels back. like I said, Rory was not in a good place at Yale even during s4, she had a terrible breakdown when she was slipping in her grades, and the impact of having to drop a single class was huge for her, she was desperately anxious about disappointing especially her grandfather’s expectations, but she was also at risk of at least somewhat disappointing all her immediate family. In season 2 (in my beloved car scene in teach me tonight) we can see hints of it too! Jess is just chatting casually when he says he didn’t expect her to dream about becoming an overseas correspondent, but this immediately rattles Rory, with direct dialogue being:

“well, it's not a little too rough for me. I hope it's not a little too rough for me, I've been talking about this forever. I mean, I don't even know what I would do if –-“

and this is in response to a comment from a friend.

the prospect of failing at her goal but also very importantly what Rory has ‘talked about forever’ is incredibly frightening. I think it’s so interesting that she doesn’t say ‘I’ve wanted this forever’, but rather implies that the expectations of those who have watched her grow up, who have heard her talk about this for so long, would be shattered because she has shared this with them. so much of Rory as a character is someone who is afraid to disappoint in every way possible, I think that is such a core element of her personality, and as the child prodigy who was (to some extent) raised to achieve what lorelai couldn’t, the pressure she is under not to disappoint is massive.

anyway, back to Mitchum. I think honestly to some degree it could have been anyone to criticise Rory’s capability and she would be considerably affected, seen not just when talking to Jess but even in season 1 after getting lower grades when she transferred to Chilton - Rory immediately questions whether she is even good enough to be at private school, whether she could just be disappointing those around her if she stays.

The fact that it’s Mitchum Huntzberger who says she ‘doesn’t have it’ in my opinion is kind of just the icing on the cake. Whether or not Rory had even taken the internship I think the pressure of it all would have led to a larger breakdown at some point or other, this was really just the final straw for what Rory could take at the time. Imagine one of the most successful people in the world in your chosen field telling you that everything you’ve worked for isn’t enough, that in three short words every expectation you’ve set for yourself (and more importantly every expectation everyone around you has held you accountable to) has been torn apart. Imagine believing you had let down everyone who had sacrificed something for you, who had put their faith in you, and tell me you could just bounce back from that.

Anyway the tiktok was not that serious but my thoughts just kind of spun out from there so if you read all of this I love you <3 and also I love you later season Rory you’re flawed and you’re lovely<33

[cjlouwho]

I Like the Taste of Vanilla

NOW COMPLETE! Start from the beginning on ao3, read today's post here or there.

Day 5: This Seems Dramatic

When Tommy stepped out of the bathroom and into the king suite he and Buck were staying at in Vegas, he did not expect to see Buck standing in front of the window with nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on.

“Now that's a view,” Tommy said with a smirk as he walked over to Buck.

Buck turned to him with a smile. “I was starting to get changed for dinner,” he said, his hands going to Tommy's shirt to play with the buttons, “then I had a different idea.”

Tommy's eyebrows perked up. “Mm. What's that?”

“Well, I was looking at the view of the strip and I- I, well, I wondered if you'd, um, you'd-”

“Evan?” Tommy could sense his nerves. “Questions are good, remember?”

Playfully, Buck rolled his eyes. “I was wondering if you'd like to fuck me... in front of the window.”

Tommy's eyes darkened at the thought. He pulled Buck in for a kiss. “I'd love that.”

It didn't take long for his clothes to be tossed across the room. Soon enough they were both standing in front of the giant window, looking over the city as Tommy worked three fingers in and out of Buck's hole.

“Did you have me fly us all the way to Vegas to fuck you in front of a window?” Tommy asked, kissing along Buck's neck. “Because no offense, but this seems dramatic.”

Buck laughed breathlessly. “That was, oh shit, actually not the plan at all,” he replied. “But, uh, i- it's a pretty good idea isn't it?”

Tommy slid his free arm around Buck's waist, wrapping his hand around Buck's cock and stroking him with a firm grip. “A great idea, Baby.”

Soon enough, Tommy was lining himself up with Buck, and slowly beginning to push inside. As Buck moaned, body pressed against the glass, Tommy noticed a woman on the street. So far down she didn't look much larger than a Barbie doll. She had a phone in her hand, pointing up toward the hotel.

Tommy froze.

“Wh- What's the matter?” Buck asked.

“What? Oh, nothing.” Tommy sunk in a little further, but he couldn't take his eyes off the woman, who was still there and still had her phone pointing at the hotel. Tommy stopped again.

“Tommy?” Buck pushed away from the wall slightly, enough to turn and look at Tommy. “Something's wrong.”

Tommy sighed. “I just... What if someone videos us and posts it online, and then someone we know sees it or it goes viral or something?”

He was surprised when, instead of looking confused, Buck just smiled back at him. “Actually, when I went downstairs to talk to the concierge earlier we got to talking about the building and he informed me that they had so many problems with people fucking against the windows that they tinted them all. It's actually impossible for anyone to see in.”

Tommy paused for a moment before resting his head against Buck's shoulder with a laugh. “Oh God. That's when you got the idea, isn't it?”

“Yup.”

“So no one can see us?”

“No one can see us.”

Tommy took a steadying breath, then straightened back up and took hold of Buck's hips. “Back to fucking, then?”

Buck nodded, sticking out his ass for effect. “Back to fucking.”

They started slow, but soon enough Tommy was pounding into Buck as Buck's body pressed hard against the glass.

Usually by this point, Buck was a whimpering, sobbing mess. But for some reason, he just got quieter and quieter the faster Tommy went.

So Tommy stopped. “What's wrong?” he asked, breathing heavily against Buck's neck.

“Nothing.”

“You sound like me now.” Tommy ran a hand through Buck's curls. “What's wrong?”

“Well, I- I know the window is double paned...”

“But?”

“But I just keep thinking wh- what if you fuck me so hard that the glass shatters and I fall out the window. I'd literally be fucked to death.”

Most people would laugh at the thought. But Tommy's been a firefighter for so long that there's quite literally no scenario he hasn't seen. Bringing a hand to Buck's stomach, he stepped them both away from the window. “I don't want to fuck you to death.”

“I don't want to be fucked to death.”

Tommy thought for a moment. “How about I grab the extra blankets from the closet, get some pillows? We can lay on the floor in front of the window and fuck like that?”

Slowly, Buck maneuvered himself so Tommy slipped out of him. He turned around. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“How about we have regular, missionary style sex in the king size bed that we're paying for?”

Regardless of the fact he was just deep inside his boyfriend, Tommy was positive he'd never been so turned on in his life. “Are you sure? That's what we do at home most of the time.”

Buck smiled. “If I remember correctly, we do it most of the time because it has us both coming so hard we nearly black out.” He moved closer to Tommy, wrapping his arms around his waist and whispering in his ear. “I'll even flip us over at the end and ride you until my thighs burn.”

Tommy was wrong before. This was the most turned on he'd ever been in his life. With a groan, he pressed a kiss against Buck's lips and began to lead him backwards toward the bed. “I'll rub Bengay on your thighs after so they don't bother you tonight,” Tommy said, giving Buck a gentle push onto the bed.

Buck moaned, his cock hard and spurting precum just below his navel. “Fuck, Tommy, that's so hot.”

Tommy climbed onto the bed over Buck, gently lowering his weight over the man. “And after that,” Tommy continued, kissing his way down Buck's body, “I'll order us room service, whatever you want, and we'll eat it in bed.”

“I- In the robes the- the hotel provided?” Buck asked, body shivering with arousal.

“Mhm. And we'll watch that documentary you've been talking to me about for weeks.”

“Shit,” Buck whined, planting his feet on the bed so he could spread his legs wider, “You've gotta fuck me now, Tommy. I'm already close.”

Nearly halfway to his own orgasm already, Tommy wasted no time lining up and pushing in to Buck. He fucked into him slowly, carefully, as he watched Buck's mouth drop open and listened to the little, uh, uh, uh's, that escaped with each thrust.

Tommy nudged his nose against Buck's cheek to get his attention. “Evan?”

“Mm.” Buck opened his eyes, hands moving down to Tommy's ass for a squeeze. “Yeah?”

“I love us.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's neck, pulling him down for a sloppy kiss filled with teeth, and tongue, and all the emotion his heart could hold. “I love us, too.”

[venomwrites]

This fic was inspired by both the concept art of Vi using a Kiramman banner as a blanket during the pit fighter era and Caitlyn saying that arrests need cause. Cross Posted to Ao3

“Hey, Cait?”

Caitlyn glances up from her book to see Vi emerging from the bathroom. There’s a frown on her face as she holds the brown bottle of antiseptic in her hand. Caitlyn tries to think of what she could be upset about or what she could need it for. Vi is quiet a lot of the time though. More content right now to sit in front of the fire than to do anything that would get her injured. When she leans against the bathroom frame, all Caitlyn can see is unbroken skin. Her eyes are fixated on the bottle as she turns it over in her hand. Finally Caitlyn cannot take the silence any longer. 

“Yes?” She prods gently, “what is it?”

“Why is this here?” Vi asks in the same tone. 

“It’s antiseptic?” Caitlyn offers, unsure of the question. A brief flash of frustration creases Vi’s face, “it’s usually in the bathroom. Unless there’s somewhere else—“

“No, I mean,” Vi runs her thumb around the cap, “why are you getting your antiseptic from Zaun?”

Something cold creeps up Caitlyn’s spine. Vi’s blue grey eyes remain on her as she stares. Caitlyn swallows tightly, feeling as though she’s been caught doing something naughty. It’s on the tip of her tongue to say that it’s a common antiseptic. One that everyone can get with a few coins. Or she could mention the black market. Even though the label on the bottle says it was made in Piltover, it could have made it’s way there. Slipped past the rows and rows of Enforcers she had positioned on the bridge opening each crate with crowbars. It could have happened. But lying to Vi is not something she can bring herself to do again. Even if the desire lingers like the taste of liquor on her tongue. 

“It was just a few things—“

She’s not expect Vi to look quite so betrayed as she looks down at the bottle. Even though she has every right to feel betrayed. Betrayed and so much worse. But Caitlyn can’t bear the look at this late hour as Vi grips the bottle like a lifeline and looks at her like a threat. She gets out of bed, tightening her robe and coming around to the foot of it. 

“Can I explain?” She asks, “please?” 

Vi nods but doesn’t move. 

“I wanted to have cause for the arrests,” Caitlyn starts, “we investigated everything we could find. Including vandalism.” 

Vi closes her eyes in annoyance. 

“The banner.”

Caitlyn swallows tightly. 

“They said you were using it as a blanket,” Caitlyn forces herself to continue, “living in that room,” her stomach rolls at the memory of the photographs, “I decided every arrest and I saw those pictures—“

“You saw pictures of me?”

It takes all of Caitlyn’s strength to appear collected and nod at the tone in Vi’s voice. She doesn’t blame her. She wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see her in that state either. It was really just two photographs but the story they told still makes Caitlyn’s stomach roll. Vi curled under the banner, somehow impossibly tiny on an already small bed. Then Vi sprawled out on the bed with a bottle by her foot, arm’s strewn about. You could count her ribs in the second picture, even through the filthy window. It had been alarming how quickly she became gaunt. Everything in Caitlyn had screamed at the sight of her state. Screamed for her to run and get her. But then she remembered those photographs were only in her possession because she was in charge of martial law. So she had thrown them into the fire and declined to arrest someone whose only crime was desperation. 

“Yes,” Caitlyn says, “I declined your arrest—“

“How did you recognize me?” Vi cuts in, “only Loris and Jinx recognized me.”

“We slept next to each other for weeks,” Caitlyn points out, “how could I not recognize you?” Vi is quiet so Caitlyn continues, “I declined your arrest but I couldn’t just not do anything.”

Vi is quiet and Caitlyn wonder which insult will come out of her mouth first as she thumbs the label of the bottle. If she’s even going to want to yell at her. In a way, Caitlyn would rather have the yelling than the silence. But she can’t bring herself to interrupt Vi while she digests this latest round of betrayal. All Caitlyn can do is quietly try not to fidget and run through the list. Every time, it makes her cringe. Before Vi came back it was because she had no idea how she got away with it. It felt like so much, like such a risk. After, it was because she had no idea how to explain herself. When Vi was there, it felt woefully inefficient. How did one explain to someone that they betrayed them, abandoned them but also tried to intervene just enough so they wouldn’t die? It sounded impossibly cruel, even to Caitlyn’s ears. 

“So this and what else?” Vi asks finally. Caitlyn looks at her and her eyes slowly move towards her, “all of it?” She asks in a voice that is alarmingly small. 

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly and then winces, “I don’t think—“

But Vi is already on her feet, one hand dragging through her hair and the antiseptic clenched in her fist. Caitlyn knows where her mind is going. Panic thrums under her skin as she tries to correct this in some way that doesn’t have Vi running into the night in her pajamas. 

“It was barely anything,” Caitlyn protests. 

“You kept me alive!” Vi cries, her voice ringing with betrayal, “you—“ she drops back onto the bed next to her, “the whole time it was you.”

“No, of course not,” Caitlyn says quickly, “I hardly did anything. I’m sure a lot of it was Jinx—“

“Tenth stair, third crate, right side of the door,” Vi rattles off. 

Caitlyn presses her lips together. 

“I didn’t want you falling on anything,” she mutters tightly. 

It had to be obvious but not too obvious so it wouldn't get stolen. Vi had to be able to find it but not realize it was left for her. It wasn’t like it was anything terribly extravagant, but it was enough. Coins wrapped in tissues and tucked into cups to look discarded. Bottles of antiseptic. Rolls of wraps and gauze. At least once a month it was a half torn shopping bag arranged to look forgotten but containing menstrual supplies and a few treats. Again it was nothing that would bring attention to itself, nothing that would matter to anyone. Except someone who had never lived alone as an adult. Someone who might not remember how to get a meal that didn’t involve sliding a tray along a line. Vi looks at the antiseptic again and Caitlyn tries to string together something. Anything. But how did one even begin to explain this? She opens her mouth and closes it again when nothing perfect comes to mind. And then she sees the wetness in Vi’s eyes and her stomach drops further. 

“I should—“

“The bag was you as well, wasn’t it?” She says. Caitlyn only barely nods, “Loris said it was a great find and on my birthday,” she shakes her head, “you got me a birthday present.”

“It was your first birthday,” Caitlyn protests.

“You know I hallucinated you?” Vi says. Caitlyn stiffens, “when I was drunk I’d see you. I thought I was going crazy,” she shakes her head, “but you were there the whole time.”

“No,” Caitlyn says quickly, touching Vi’s forearm before she can overthink it, “no, I just couldn’t let you starve—“

“Or get an infection—“ Vi cuts in. 

“I just didn’t want you to die,” Caitlyn mutters. 

“Or not celebrate my birthday,” Vi says, turning the bottle over in her hands. She shakes her head again and looks at Caitlyn, “First time I busted my knuckles in the pit I just kind of figured what the hell,” she says, “I was just gonna leave ‘em. Or be drunk enough for the sting,” she strokes the label with her thumb absently, “I wouldn’t let Loris come up. Even though he asked. Fell flat on my face on the last step,” she shakes her head, “you pour them out yourself?”

Caitlyn fights the urge to melt in embarrassment. 

“I thought you would figure it out if they were full.”

Vi makes a noise of disbelief and Caitlyn looks for something to get her off the bed. It’s a cowards move but that is par for the course with all of this. How many nights did she spend in the bathroom cursing Vi and pouring out antiseptic until it was enough to take care of whatever was wrong with her but not enough for the bottle to look full? Any window of Vi coming back to her was firmly shut while Ambessa breathed down her neck, but she couldn’t just leave her to die. No matter how angry she was, she couldn’t do that. Not when there was a chance she could prevent it. Vi gives her an impossibly fond look and that is all Caitlyn needs to lurch up from the bed. 

“It was the bare minimum,” she says, “anyone would have done it—“

“Cait that’s not true—“

“Stop interrupting me!” She erupts finally. 

Vi pushes herself up. Caitlyn turns to the doorframe, wrapping her arms around herself. This was not what she thought was going to happen tonight. Certainly she thought they would have the conversation some day. But she was hoping for more time before Vi realized she was just as much of a monster inside. Just a little time. Except Vi doesn’t bolt for the door or yell back. She just joins Caitlyn in the entrance to the bathroom, like she has countless times before. When the panic wins and Caitlyn can barely bring herself through the threshold. Like she has any right to be afraid anymore. But Vi sits there and hums as she showers, hums so when Caitlyn sticks her head out she can hear she isn’t about to be attacked. She’s not sure if she can stand Vi humming right now, she doesn’t deserve it. Even less than she did a few hours ago and she didn’t deserve it then. 

“Why are you downplaying saving my life?” Vi asks. 

“I didn’t!” Caitlyn protests, turning around, “that was Loris and Jinx and you,” she tightens her arms, “I had a few bottles of antiseptic dropped where you would find them—“ Vi opens her mouth, “and you were still covered in half infected injuries when we were at the hospital so it didn’t even work.” 

Vi is quiet for a moment but Caitlyn isn’t fooled that she is going to accept what she’s said. 

“The water never went off,” she says, instead of whatever Caitlyn is expecting, “the place had electricity the whole time. I thought it was Loris,” Caitlyn opens her mouth to give the credit to him, “you never stopped paying him.”

Caitlyn shakes her head. 

Vi lets out a trembling breath. 

“You know I pulled down that banner because it was the only warm thing I could find?” She says hoarsely, “the only thing thing that felt safe?” She drums her fingers against the brown glass, “but it wasn’t.”

Caitlyn cringes at the memory of the picture. 

“You were taking care of me the whole time,” Vi says but there’s no anguish in her voice. Just that tone that slips in when something isn’t making sense, “I left you—“

“No I left you,” Caitlyn says, unable to hear her beat herself up about the fight one more time, “I was so angry I didn’t even think about the danger you would be in or how you would react,” she shakes her head, “I know it was nothing but it was all I could do.”

“Hey,” Vi is in front of her suddenly, fingers cupping her cheeks. The bottle rolls across the carpet, “this wasn’t nothing. Not to me.”

Caitlyn can’t help but turn her cheek into the warmth of Vi’s hand as her thumbs brush along her cheekbones. 

“I was still mad,” Caitlyn whispers, steeling herself for the motion to stop. 

But instead she’s greeted by a warm chuckle as it continues. 

“You take care of everyone you’re mad at?” Vi teases, like they both don’t know the answer to that question. 

Caitlyn guides VI’s hands down and clasps them in her own. It used to be so easy to do this. To tell people the perfect thing, to choose her words with such care they would get the desired result. But Vi has always been uniquely good at squirming past the games. She squirms past Caitlyn’s politicians tongue and curls somewhere deep in her chest. The places she’s been told never to truly let people in. But Vi curls there all the same, too far in to every truly be cast out. Even in those dark, awful moments when Caitlyn half wishes she could. When she tells herself it would be better if she could. 

“I knew this was your first time being alone in seven years,” she says softly, “just because we were apart didn’t mean I wanted you to suffer,” she looks down at their joined hands, “when I saw you were, I couldn’t just sit here.”

Vi tugs her fingertips into her palms and tangles their fingers together. She squeezes Cailtyn’s hands until she looks up to see Vi’s bright eyes looking at her. Vi says nothing but she drops her hands and folds her arms around Caitlyn. There’s something about Vi’s embrace that makes her body relax. It used to scare her. The guilt was cloying when Vi hugged her and she felt safe. What right did she have to feel safe when the world had just been destroyed? When they parted ways, one of the most cutting regrets she had was how quickly she ended their embraces. She can’t remember if she told Vi that or if she pieced it together, but now when Vi folds her into an embrace she always tangles a hand in something. Hair, her jacket, some layer so when Caitlyn pulls back there’s a tug that makes her pause. This time it’s her robe and Caitlyn feels her warm, calloused palm settle against her bare shoulder. 

“Thanks for getting me though it,” Vi says softly, lips close to her ear. 

Caitlyn presses her nose to the juncture of Vi’s shoulder and her neck. Vi smells like fresh soap and beeswax and lately her own conditioner. It’s rapidly becoming Caitlyn’s favorite smell in the world. She is stupidly grateful to breathe it in as another truth settles between them. Vi’s thumb rubs against her shoulder as Caitlyn sinks into her embrace. The nerves seem to escape her and she feels impossibly tired as Vi holds her. There’s a soft almost laugh as Vi shifts and slips her arms around her. It’s silly for it to feel so nice to be carried, but Caitlyn relaxes into the easy warmth of the embrace as Vi brings her back to bed. When she goes to pull back, Caitlyn catches her wrist. Vi smiles and slips into bed, wrapping her arms around her again. 

“So how many bottles did you throw?” Vi asks into her shoulder. 

“A lot,” Caitlyn replies, “why do you think the curtains changed color?”

Vi snorts softly against her skin. The notion of Caitlyn getting annoying and tossing around bottles of antiseptic as she tried to figure out how to care for Vi from afar without her realizing doesn’t seem to lessen how Vi feels about the gesture. If anything it makes her snuggle closer to Caitlyn. Her fingers undo the knot of her robe belt so she can be more comfortable before settling on her waist again. 

“Are you mad I didn’t tell you immediately?” Caitlyn asks into the darkness. Vi shakes her head against her neck, “why?"

“Are you mad I figured it out?” Vi asks. Caitlyn shakes her head in return. Vi pushes her hair back and brushes her lips against Caitlyn’s neck, “why would I be mad you saved my life?”

Caitlyn sighs. 

“When you put it like that I sound completely foolish,” she mutters. Vi smiles against her neck, “alight, fair point,” Caitlyn concedes, “I just wish I could have done more.”

“Come on, Cupcake,” she says, pulling her from the miserable thoughts with the nickname, “we both know it wasn’t that easy.”

They’ve played this out a million times before. What if they had emerged from that temple together somehow? What if Vi had been there when Ambessa made her declaration? Each route ends more bloody or sad than the last. War, death, imprisonment, heartbreak—a thousand gruesome fates. None of which end with them tangled in bed picking at wounds and nuzzling kisses over hurts. The best route Caitlyn can think of, the one Vi cajoles from her lips one terrible night, is Salo starting a war that leaves both of them dead. The one truth that seems to ring through is the separation saved both their lives. It’s a trade Vi makes without a second thought and only later does Caitlyn realize it’s because she’s done it before. Every night Caitlyn vows to do everything in her power to make sure she never has to make it again. 

“I’m glad it helped,” Caitlyn whispers, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad we’re here,” Vi tells her. 

For tonight, that’s more than enough. 

[kiame-sama]

Oi! Can you stop posting things that get stuck in my brain so often? Joking, but I mean a lot of things you bring up a lot of fun ideas in your AU that just stick in my brain. Hope I’m not bugging you too much with messages. However, you have introduced my lil emo catholic boy Rollo so I must ask: how would Rollo and Malleus (and anyone else tied to fire) deal with a fire bug?

Like not necessarily someone who starts fires, but someone who LOVES fire. Like I could stare at fires for hours. They are just so pretty and the flickering and swaying look just look amazing. Imagine all the different colors of fires! Especially when I poke it or have something like a match.

Ima go before I start ranting about fire again. Hope you’re keeping warm and have a great day! Can’t wait to see that fish prince get hit shins kicked!

Warnings: Grim and Ortho are platonic only, yanderes, yandere behavior, yandere temper, different levels of yandere, use of magic to amuse the Human, Rollo wrestling with self-loathing, Malleus is malleus,

- Grim is thrilled his Hooman loves his little ear flames and will intentionally make them flare brighter when he wants more attention. Mostly he just uses his ear flames to make them smile.

- Ortho will laugh and be excited to tell the Human about the hair flame many Shinigami have, giving details while he consciously makes his hair slowly change color flame. It takes some effort, but he cycles through the visible light spectrum before he needs to take a break, his hair snap returning to the usual blue. He's happy to tell them all about it, so long as the Human will listen.

- Idia is going magenta and doesn't even know it, warm hearts forming in his long flame hair as he internally fanboys over the Human looking at him with such an interested gaze. The way they stare at the flickering light and flames as he just burns brighter. He loves it and will burn that sight into his memory.

- Papa Hades quickly picks up on the Human's interest in fire and flames, happily using his magic to create flames for them. Different shapes, colors, creatures, he is making a show of fire to marvel at and enjoy. It has been too long since he has last had an audience so enraptured and it soothes his heart.

- Rollo is struggling with himself over this. He dislikes his flame and the fire that fules his very core. Get a bit too out of hand and *poof* gone. That's how he sees it, at least. It is tragically sweet to him for the Human to adore the things he hates most about himself. Leave it to a divine Human to see the good in the wretched and sinful. He will slowly begin allowing his fire to flourish, if only for the Human's sake. He does adore them quite a bit and will willingly do what the Human wishes of him.

- Malleus loves that the Human enjoys his flames. He will show off his mastery over summoned flames and explain how they differ from Dragon-fire which he can only ever create when angry. Any time the Human wants to see his magic displayed, he will create a bright green flame for them. Eventually he will gift them a crystal containing one of his green flames, around it will spin a group of green fireflies. So they can take his flame anywhere they go and always marvel at his fire.

[alternate-real-ities]

I'd love to see what alternate versions of this guy there are.

Sure buddy. It wasn't easy tuning my machine this time, but I think I've found some interesting realities out there! Hope you like them :)

In an alternate reality not so different from our own, this bearish hunk has taken on a more muscular, less chubby form - transformed into a behemoth. Here, he's not just any old gym rat; he's a world-famous powerlifter and internet celebrity whose influence knows no bounds.

Young men from all corners of the globe look up to him as their idol, their motivation, their reason for living - especially when it comes to getting swole. They follow his every post, eagerly absorbing each tip on training and nutrition like gospel from a fitness prophet. And why not? With a physique like his, who wouldn't want to emulate perfection?

His pecs are massive, each one a study in taut, rippling muscle that defies the laws of physics. His arms bulge with thickness, as if carved from granite by some mythical sculptor. His thighs are tree trunks, powerful and unyielding, while his calves are chiseled masterpieces of human anatomy.

But his influence extends far beyond the gym walls. In this world, a new wave of ripped teens has become the norm, thanks largely to their idolization of this muscular beast. Gone are the days of skinny, awkward youth; now, every boy from puberty onwards is driven to get big and buff in order to measure up.

Parents worry about the health implications, but who can blame them for wanting their sons to grow up strong and confident like this fitness icon? And as for the young men themselves, they'd follow him anywhere - even into the depths of steroid abuse if it means achieving that perfect, chiseled physique.

In this world, there's no escaping his shadow - nor would anyone want to. For in the presence of such unadulterated muscle majesty, all other men are but mere mortals, forever relegated to the sidelines while he reigns supreme as the ultimate embodiment of human potential.

In another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a towering Latin stud, the kind of papi that makes hearts race and loins stir across every continent. Hailing from Colombia, he grew up in a world where machismo is king, and his rugged good looks and powerful physique were destined for greatness.

Here, he's known as Papi Leche, a towering figure of masculine perfection with a body that could make even the most devout Catholic priests weep with lust. His skin is a rich, burnished brown that glistens with the sheen of oil and sweat after a long day at the gym.

But it's not just his physique that sets this Latino daddy apart - it's his legendary cum, renowned throughout the land for its unparalleled potency and addictive quality. Gringos from all over the world can't resist the allure of his Latin leche, once they've tasted its salty, intoxicating flavor.

He takes great pleasure in breaking them down, both physically and mentally, until they're nothing more than obedient little cumsluts desperate for another taste of his golden nectar. And he always delivers, pumping load after massive load into their eager mouths and throats until they're drowning in Latin dick juice.

And it's not just a physical addiction. They gradually change the more leche they drink. Their skin darkens, their features soften, and their accents change until they're speaking in perfect, melodic Spanish.

Before long, this Latino daddy has an entourage of half-Latino, half-gringo chicos who worship him and vie for his attention - all of them hooked on his leche like junkies on a fix.

So if you ever find yourself in Colombia, make sure to keep an eye out for this hulking bear of a man - but be warned: once you've caught sight of him, there's no escaping his gravitational pull. You'll be drawn in like a moth to a flame, helpless to resist the allure of his latin leche until you're nothing more than a mindless, cum-addicted shell of your former self.

Finally, in yet another reality, our bearish hunk has been reborn as a cocky, wealthy young Arab stud - the epitome of Dubai's high-flying elite and a player in every sense of the word.

Here, he's the king of the scene, with a body that's equally at home on the beach or in the boardroom. His skin is a flawless, golden brown, his features chiseled like marble from the hands of a skilled sculptor.

As a member of Dubai's elite social circle, he moves through life like a prince among paupers - except instead of a crown, he wears a gold-plated watch on each wrist. He cruises the city in his gleaming black Lamborghini, with a string of adoring twink boys piled into the backseat for good measure.

These young men are just playthings for him to use and discard, their tight little holes and eager mouths mere receptacles for his boundless sexual appetite. He'll fuck them raw, pump them full of cum, and then toss them aside like yesterday's trash - all while smirking in satisfaction at the knowledge that he's left another broken little twink in his wake.

But it's not just about the physical act for this Arab stud; it's about the power dynamic. He loves nothing more than to humiliate his conquests, reducing them to quivering, tear-streaked messes as he lectures them on their place in the world - namely, at his feet, servicing his every whim.

And when he lets loose with that massive, cut Arab cock, it's a sight to behold - thick, veiny, and heavy as a horse's head, with a bulbous, slit-tipped crown that glistens with precum. It's the kind of dick that can stretch even the most well-fucked hole to its limits, leaving its recipients gasping in awe at his sheer size and potency.

And yet, despite all the degradation and abuse, these twinks can't get enough of him. They're addicted to the thrill of being used by such a powerful, dominant figure; they crave the taste of his cum on their tongues and the feeling of his thick, veiny cock splitting them open.

But despite all of this, this Arab boy has a soft spot for romance. He adores showering his favorite twink with expensive gifts and lavish dates - taking him to the finest restaurants and clubs, then whisking him away to his private villa for a night of passionate lovemaking under the stars.

So if you ever find yourself in this version of Dubai, keep an eye out for this hunky Arab stud. Just be prepared to worship him... and pray that he deigns to notice your pathetic little existence.

And so, once again, we have explored the possibilities that the multiverse provides. Which version of our friend here do you think is the most appealing? Or perhaps you have your own alternate version in mind? Who knows, the possibilities are endless...

[osokasstuff]

replying to this tag: #i didn't even fucking know aac users couldn't swear????

well, it depends a lot on AAC type and AAC user's specific abilities.

AAC = alternative and augmentative communication, and it includes a lot of types of communication.

there is low-tech AAC (physical cards with words and pictures, pen and paper, other physical equipment that is used for communication). there is no-tech AAC (sounds, gestures (not sign languages! common gestures like nods and head shakes or personalized gestures like home signs), body movements, etc). there is high-tech AAC (apps with symbol and/or text buttons for words, text-to-speech apps that rely on typing, etc).

and there are lots of AAC users with various abilities and needs. some are part-time AAC users and have some mouth speech. some are full-time AAC users and rely completely on AAC methods for communication. some have ability to type/write/spell words, some don't and rely completely on words they have in their AAC method. some can't use words at all or have very limited vocabulary. some have bigger vocabulary. some have fluctuating abilities in these areas (for example, sometimes can type and sometimes can't, or sometimes can use more words and sometimes less).

the problem i addressed in initial post was about symbol-based AAC apps (and i assume applicable to low-tech AAC with word cards).

symbol-based AAC is AAC method where words (or sometimes phrases) are represented by cards (in low-tech) or buttons (in high-tech). so, for example, to say "i fucking despise it," user needs to pick/press words "i", "fuck", "ing", "despise", "it". (grammar building may differ from this example).

now, for example, let's imagine the situation that in AAC app this specific user uses, there is no button for word "fuck". so, they have these options:

type the word "fuck" manually. a lot of AAC apps have qwerty-keyboard, and the device (tablet/phone/laptop) user uses for communication most likely has it anyway. but not all AAC users are able to type words, or do it regularly (aka type "fuck" every time they wish to say it).

edit / ask someone to edit their AAC board to include the word "fuck". again, editing requires skills and energy not everyone has. and not everyone's caregivers are willing to add cuss words on their board. and it may be kinda embarrassing for AAC user to ask about adding swear words or sex-associated words or something like that. especially because for lots of AAC users their caregivers are their parents.

don't say "fuck" and say "i despise it" instead of "i fucking despise it". which is frustrating experience because you can't communicate what you truly want to.

a lot of AAC apps don't have swear words, sex-associated words, and other words deemed "inappropriate" by society. don't have them even in addable vocabulary packs. (like in some apps you have some basic vocabulary and can add some vocabulary packs, like "reproductive health" or for other more specific topics). and when AAC users try to address this problem, a lot of people start moral panic and use bullshit arguments like "but what if these kids start to swear in the classroom????" (someone will fall dead i assume. /sarcasm)

also lots of people behave really weird when they see AAC user swearing so it's another part of problem.

some AAC users go to speech therapy, ABA therapy, or other therapies related to their disabilities. and sometimes therapy providers have access to their AAC device. and some providers find it completely okay to edit someone's AAC boards and remove/reorganize/hide/whatever change words. which is. uhhhh. awful to say it nicely.

also some AAC users go to schools and other places where some people are meant to control the situation. and teachers/other people also may find themselves entitled to change someone's AAC board.

(do i need to clarify that it's abuse and none of a business of anyone besides AAC user themself or their caregivers in some cases?)

so, well. some AAC users definitely can and do swear. and some AAC users have the ability and desire to swear but are removed from it by inaccessibility and ableism. and some AAC users don't want to/can't because of their disability and it's ok.

(this post doesn't include a lot of nuances because i don't know about them or forgot about them or don't have energy to do it now and it's already long and i don't want to drive away further from initial topic. but i hope it gives at least somewhat clarification of what all this discussion is about).

i find the idea of not giving AAC users access to swear words, sexual words (or perceived as sexual), etc very very very offensive. the idea of just... taking away some words from someone vocabulary sounds offensive itself.

like. you can't literally take away words from speaking people. you can't erase them from their vocabulary, you can't erase them from their mind, you can't physically shut their mouth when they use words that you dislike. no matter what the reason is and how based your dislike is. you can't take away an opportunity to say a slur from speaking people who can't reclaim it. you can't take away an opportunity to say a curse word from a child you think shouldn't say it. etc.

when people say things they shouldn't, other people communicate with them about it. i know these communications often take a wrong way (like children are just scolded off and prohibited to use some words without explanations). but these communications at least happen. (and i wish they to be meaningful and fight for it). same with AAC users. if AAC user says something that they shouldn't (like slur they can't reclaim), people should communicate with them about why it isn't appropriate and not just take away the very possibility to say this word.

sometimes i think some people just want to control what others say and only physical impossibility to do this with speaking people make them to find other ways. and when these people who want to control what everyone says get the real opportunity to do it (like remove some words from AAC users), they use it happily.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 56

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,890ish

Summary: Wade, Laura, and Logan find themselves in the TVA, prepared to do whatever it takes to bring you home and take care of you.

Notes: This can be a tough one. Hope y'all enjoy it. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan didn’t bother asking Wade how he got his yellow and blue suit fixed up, he honestly didn’t care enough. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists as he stood in the TVA. All that mattered was getting you back. You deserved happiness and a place to experience that. Logan would do what he could to make that happen. Laura was standing at his side, defensive and ready for an attack, while Deadpool was in front, leading the charge. TVA agents were surrounding them, with Hunter B-15 pushing to the front.

“There she is!” Wade exclaimed. “The woman in charge! Though, I did hear the author thought about bringing Loki into this, but you’ll do just fine.”

“The three of you need to leave,” B-15 said.

“Oh, not a chance in hell. We are looking for my Buttercup and will not be leaving without her.”

“She broke the conditions of her return to your timeline.”

“Look, sugarplum,” Wade pulled out one of his katana’s and pointed it at B-15, causing the agents around to arm themselves, “this isn’t a request. I will happily let my pack of wolves cut through you all to get the information we want, but I’m sure you don’t want to clean up that mess. Trust me, I’ve been there. Some stains never come out.”

Logan stepped forward with a growl, claws coming out with a snikt. The claws in Laura’s hands released as well, a signal to the TVA that they weren’t going anywhere without you. With a glare, Logan’s eyes barely glanced past B-15, noticing a screen that was showing you curled up in a field, on fire.

“She’s in The Void,” Logan murmured, fists clenching tighter.

Without another word, all hell broke loose. Claws and swords were flying as the agents tried to gain control of the situation.

“Peanut!” Wade exclaimed. Logan turned just in time to see Wade toss a TemPad in his direction. He caught it with ease. “Press the button! Little Wolf and I got it from here.”

Logan pressed the button and ran through the orange Time Door, closing it before anyone could follow after him. With a deep inhale through his nose, he could smell your smoke and it was strong. He spun around to see a large fire going in the field, a few miles away. Logan took off towards it. TVA agents began coming through Time Doors along the way. He grunted and roared as he used his claws to kill each agent that tried to cross his path. No one was going to stop him from getting to you and bringing you home. 

As soon as Logan reached the flames, he ran right in, stopping the agents from coming after him.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled. He coughed as he fought through the smoke and flames, not caring that his suit and skin was burning. “Y/N!”

“Lo—Logan?”

It was quiet and pained. Logan knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he didn’t have heightened senses. But it was there. You were there, nearby. 

“I’m here, sweetheart!” He shouted. “I’m bringing you home! Just let me see you!”

“I–I can’t,” he could hear the sob in your throat. “It’s too much... It’s all too much… I just want it to end…”

Logan continued to head in the direction of your voice. “I know, doll. You’ve been so strong. But you don’t need to carry it all on your own anymore. I… I’m here. Just let me get to you, sweetheart.”

The fire in the center extinguished, leaving a ring of roaring fire on the outer edges and smoke. He coughed as he tried to wave the smoke away enough to see you. You were curled up in the blackened grass, a dazed look in your eyes, your clothes barely hanging on with various burns peeking through. Logan rushed over and fell to his knees in front of you. His hand came up to your face, gently trying to get your attention.

“Logan,” you sobbed.

He shushed you as he pulled you into him. One of his arms secured you to him while his other hand cradled your head into his neck. “I’ve got you… I’m here… I’m taking you home.”

“I have no home.”

Logan understood the feeling. He had felt that way until Wade crashed into his life, bringing the rest of you along with him. “Yes, you do, sweetheart… you have Wade and Althea and Laura… you have me… you will always have me.” 

He held you tighter as multiple Time Doors appeared and more agents marched through, surrounding the two of you. He kept your head in his neck so that you couldn’t see what was going on.

“Alright, alright, enough of the dramatics,” Wade said as he, Laura, and B-15 came through one of the doorways.

“We have reached an understanding,” B-15 stated. “Y/N can return with you. But your TemPads and time jumpers must be returned.”

Logan tossed the one he had towards her before resuming his grip on you. You tried to curl up further into Logan as you felt the eyes of the others on you. B-15 opened another doorway. 

“That will take you home,” B-15 informed. “I am truly sorry about all of this.”

Logan scoffed as he stood up and walked through the doorway without another word. It led to your apartment where he immediately headed to your bathroom. He walked in and tried to set you down. You gripped him tighter.

“I need to set you down, sweetheart,” his voice was calm and reassuring. “Need to get you cleaned up.”

“No,” you shook your head, wincing at the action. “Everything hurts.”

“I know, but you need to be cleaned up and cooled down. You’re still overheating which can’t be helping your pain.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, loosening your grip on him.

With great care, Logan set you down on the counter. He didn’t let you go until he felt that you could hold yourself up enough.

“I’m going to turn on the shower,” he told you. He waited patiently for any sort of response from you. You gave him a single nod before he was quickly turning around to move to get the shower going. Once he had done that, he was back in front of you. His eyes ran over the burnt clothes, barely giving you any coverage. “Can I get you out of these clothes?” Logan watched as you bit the inside of your cheek, giving yourself a moment to think it over. “No funny business, darlin’, just taking care of you.”

You gave him a nod, not meeting his gaze. With great care, Logan began to free you from the tattered clothing. His eyes remained on your face as he worked, trying to show you that he meant what he said and so that he didn’t have to see the burns littering your skin. You whined and whimpered as the movements caused you pain. Once you were free of your clothing, Logan stepped back.

“I can leave you to–”

“Please don’t leave,” your voice was quiet and full of desperation. “I don’t want to be alone… I can’t…”

Logan stripped off his Wolverine suit, leaving him in his boxers before stepping back up to you. More delicate than you could imagine from the man, he picked you up and took you into the shower. He kept a firm arm around you as he set your legs down. 

“Do you want your hair or body washed first?” he softly asked. You shrugged, looking down. One of his hands came up and hooked a finger under your chin, gently guided your head up to look at him. “I’m not gonna do anything more without a verbal answer, darlin’. Hair or body?”

“Body,” you whispered.

Logan nodded before grabbing your washcloth and squeezing some body soap on it. With great care, Logan began lathering you up with soap. You were practically a doll in his arms, barely keeping yourself up as he took care of you. Once your body was clean, Logan moved to your hair. You leaned back against him as he used his calloused hands to massage the soap into your hair. Your eyes closed as you let him take care of you.

It felt natural for Logan to take care of you, despite that the two of you weren’t from the same timeline, and didn’t share the same history. It made him crave for more moments to take care of you.

By the time Logan was done cleaning you up, you were practically unconscious. He turned off the shower and reached out for a towel, carefully wrapping it around you. He carried you out of the bathroom and headed to your room, catching a glimpse of a lingering, worried Laura in the hall.

“Can you get her dried up and changed, kid?” He quietly asked.

Laura nodded and quickly headed into your room. Logan followed and gently set you down on your bed. You weakly reached out for him, whining in pain.

“I’ll go grab some medication,” he said before slipping out of the room. 

Not caring that he was still wet from the shower and only in his boxers, Logan headed to where he knew you kept the medication in the kitchen. Wade was in the kitchen, making a mess.

“Woah, Peanut!” Wade exclaimed, upon seeing Logan’s state. “Now is not the time to be putting down moves. My favorite superhero is not okay and I will not allow you to use her!”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot,” Logan muttered. “She asked me to help her.”

“Well you could help us all by getting your soaked body dry a little more. I know the readers don’t mind that you’re standing here in your boxers but you’ve got water on the floor. This isn’t a water park.”

“Fine. Grab some meds and get them to Y/N. I’m gonna change.”

~~~

Back in your room, Laura was holding back tears as she helped you dry off and into some comfy clothes.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” she cried. “I didn’t mean any of it… you’re my mom. I love you. I wouldn’t be here without you… I’m so sorry…”

You were barely registering anything around you. The pain, emotional and physical, was all consuming. Laura helped you with great care and trembling hands, tucking you into your bed once she was done.

“Okay! I got the meds! I also brought some water!” Wade exclaimed as he waltzed into the room. He immediately became somber as he took in the sight of you weakly laying there and Laura crying over you, holding your hand. 

“All she’s ever done is put me first,” Laura mumbled. “How could I treat her so bad?”

Wade sighed, coming over and sitting on the other side of you. “She’ll forgive you… Help me get these meds in her? I’ll sit her up.”

Laura nodded, taking the pills and water from Wade. Wade carefully helped you sit up, wincing at the painful cry that let your lips.

“Sorry, Buttercup,” Wade said softly. “We just need you to take some meds. It will help.”

“Here you go, mom,” Laura said, placing the meds in your mouth. 

For a brief moment, her mind snapped back to when she watched you and her father do the same thing for Charles. Her heart broke at the memory and the situation you were currently in. She silently wished that her father were here, he would be better suited to handle this. 

She guided the water bottle up to your lips and was grateful when you swallowed the meds down.

“There you go,” Wade cooed, like you were a child. “Gonna get you all better, Buttercup. Can’t lose my favorite super hero just yet. Haven’t even gotten your opinion on the new Emberine fic I’m putting together.”

“No one wants to read that shit,” Logan murmured as he came into the room, dressed in a tight black t-shirt and gray sweats.

“Actually, I have over seven thousand followers than say otherwise.”

“Bullshit,” Logan scoffed. His eyes focused on you as he came to stand at the end of your bed. “How is she?”

“Our Little Flame here is in a lot of pain. But she’s a fighter.”

“She needs rest,” Laura said quietly, guilt weighing heavily on her. 

“She shouldn’t be alone,” Logan said. “We should take shifts.”

“And I get the first shift!” Wade quickly rose his hand. “You two assholes still need to make up from the damage you did. Now, scurry off. Big Brother Wade is taking over.”

Laura gave your hand a squeeze as she stood up. She leaned over you and pressed a kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, mom,” she whispered. “I love you.” She slowly let your hand go and left the room.

“I’ll be in the living room,” Logan stated. “Let me know if anythin’ is needed.”

“Don’t you worry, Peanut! I’ve got everything under control.”

Logan sighed, looking at you for another moment before leaving the room.

“I know you’re sleeping, but I’ve got fics to write and stories to read.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Wade pulled out his laptop and opened it up. “You do not wanna know where I’ve been keeping this thing. I’ve been waiting too long to share some of these fics with you. The first one is about what I think would have happened if your dear Wolvie never lost his memories. I think you’re really gonna like it or it will just make you sad, so I guess it’s good that you’re asleep now. I’m gonna read it anyway.”

~~~

Logan couldn’t sleep, neither could Laura. The two ended up silently sitting at the dinner table, a tense awkward silence between the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” Laura eventually spoke up, her voice quiet. “You shouldn’t have had to step in… I just… She’s been carrying so much and her powers dwindling is terrifying… It’s my father all over again.”

“What do you mean?” Logan questioned.

“The adamantium in him poisoned him… He didn’t exactly die from it, but it didn’t help either… He aged in the span of that week faster than I new possible. His healing stopped and everything was painful for him… And now I’m watching my mom go through it… She’s done everything for me. She pushed aside all her pain and grief to raise me… She never deserved those hurtful words.”

“No, she didn’t,” Logan responded. “But,” he leaned forward to try and catch Laura’s eye, “it’s also not all on you. Your mom has clearly had things building up inside her for a lot time. It was only time before Y/N broke like this.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.” Laura’s gaze dropped to her hands, rubbing over the spots where her claws extend. 

“What else is bothering you, kid?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Liar.”

She sighed. “It’s… you.”

Logan tried to not be too surprised at her honesty. “Me?”

“You look exactly like my father… exactly like my mother’s husband… but you’re not him. You don’t share the same memories. You… treat me better than he ever treated me. But you’re still not him.”

“I’m not trying to replace him, kid. I’m just trying to be friends—“

“Yeah? And what happens when that leads to more on either one of your ends? Will you walk away if seeing you becomes too much for her or will you break her heart when she feels more than you do? Or is she just a replacement for the Y/N you lost?”

Laura’s words hit Logan harder than he wished they would. Was his presence making everything worse for you? It clearly was harder on Laura than he originally thought. Before he could let his thoughts spiral too much, Logan stood up and strode down the hall. He reached your room to find you still asleep and Wade furiously typing away at a computer.

“Oh, Peanut, just in time!” Wade greeted, not too loud to prevent you from walking up. “I just finished a new fic. I’m sure that it will grow on you. It’s obviously an Emberine fic with a smutty—“

“Get the fuck out,” Logan grumbled. “It’s my shift.”

“Fine.” Wade closed the laptop and leapt from the bed. “I’ll go see if Laura wants to hear my stories. Don’t do anything stupid, Peanut.” Then he was gone.

Logan took a deep breath before taking Wade’s spot on the bed. He couldn’t look at your sleeping form right now, keeping his eyes on the picture of you and your original Logan on the dresser.

“I’m sorry if I’m making things worse,” he whispered. “I just… I haven’t had people in so long… I haven’t let anyone close. I thought that I’d give it a shot… That I wouldn’t walk away… But I will, if it’s too much for you… I’ve really enjoyed becoming friends with you.” 

His head snapped down as some of your fingers brushed against his hand.

“Don’t,” you rasped, eyes still closed as everything still weighed on you. “Don’t… I need friends, too…” Your hand moved to lay on top of Logan’s as your eyes opened a fraction. “Thank you… for bringing me home.”

“Anytime, doll. It’s what friends do.”

next chapter >

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

✨🎶Hogwarts Confidential is back. Back again. Confidentials back. Tell a friend. 🎶✨

Hellooooooo students! Welcome back to your favorite gossip newspaper. I hope everyone had a good Christmas holiday now let's get into the news and boy do I have a lot of news for you.

Starting off with some weekly updates as usually before we get into the good stuff:

Filch has been announcing a new ban on gummy yoyos? What even is a gummy yoyo? And how have you all been using it to terrorize Filch? (Wanting to know for research purposes definitely not for my own schemes…)

Now some good news. Now that we're back from break McGonagall has stated no exams for the next month so Ravenclaw should throw a party now that they don't have the excuse of their studies to hold them back.

Speaking of Ravenclaw did you all see that game this past weekend? Whoo that was a close one, although it did seem like Ravenclaw was very distracted. Congrats to Marlene on her win in the Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw game! I know she didn't play but she always wins in my heart [insert heart eyes].

And for our weekly activity because none of us can just stay in and study, Dueling club starts this weekend. So everyone head up to the clocktower this Friday for some awesome battles whether that's between your friends or your enemies. (nobody tell Pomfrey what really happens if you get injured.)

NOW ONTO EVERYONE'S FAVORITE PART, THE GOSSIP:

Starting off congratulations to Alexander Kemet-Ali and Andromeda Black on their engagement this past weekend at the Hogwarts New Year's ball. Alex brought in the new year by getting down one knee and popping the question right as the clock struck midnight. The young daughter of Black saying yes, after worrying us all in her recent post that they broke up before confirming they are actually in fact engaged!

Now onto a new brewing love triangle. Jamie the Ho and Anastasia Selwyn have been dating for the past couple of months as everyone knows but at the Potters Christmas ball it seems as though the Selwyn girl ran off to the gardens only to be seen alone with none other than Phoenix Harvey. Is this a scandal on our hands? It was well known a few months back that Harvey and Selwyn were caught hooking up after a wild Slytherin party only for her to end up with that whore Jamie a few days later. What is this girl thinking?

Ms. Selwyn was also seen leaving the Gryffindor common room crying a couple of days ago. Phoenix Harvey rushed after her to comfort the teary eyed girl. The girl crying over none other than shitty boyfriend Jamie Ho’s response to a photo of the girl having a nice time in his long-time rival's common room. Trouble in paradise I suppose. They should definitely break up.

Actually I almost forgot Kingsley Shacklebolt seems to have confessed his long time crush on the soon to be quidditch player at the Potters ball only to get rejected by the jerk that is Ho as he was dragged away by his girlfriend. How anyone could like Jamie Ho is something I will never understand.

Now onto Hogwarts favorite roller coaster of romance, Pandora Rosier and her significant others??? Trust me you'll wanna sit down for this one. According to sources the young Rosier twin attended the Potters ball with none other than Valentina Zabini only for the two to separate at the party and Pandora to be found chatting with Xenophilius Lovegood in a lonely hallway. The two seemed to discuss their child, a dodo bird whomst I forget its name, and their custody of the bird, as well as confessing previous feelings for one another. Afterwards the girl sought out Zabini and they seemed to have shared a moment? Although that's where the night ends MORE seems to happen a few nights later on New Year's Eve.

But before we get into that let's discuss Xenophilius Lovegood and the reason for Pandora and their discussion over the dodo bird's custody. Xenophilius seems to have never checked on Pandora after her breakup a couple months ago with Pureblood extraordinaire Lucius Malfoy. Instead opting to check on Malfoy and accept an offer of a “friendly dinner” with the boy. Only for Pandora to catch wind and accuse her ex best friend of plotting this the whole time and never caring about her. Which led to them cancelling their dinner with the boy and going back to chasing their longest friend.

Note: some mention from Lucius Malfoy about Xenophilius Lovegood being “the biggest snack”?????

NOW BACK TO NEW YEARS EVE. Pandora Rosier and Xenophilius Lovegood seemed to have run off to once again “check on their Dodo Bird” that Rosier claims is sick. However after their disappearance it seems the two are closer than ever and even seem to be a couple? Confirmation I'm sure will be posted by next week. I wonder how Lucius Malfoy is going to handle this news.

Another note: don't mess with Pandora or she'll steal batteries (and socks??) From your dorm room.

Now onto another world famous couple or should I say ex couple seeing as they are no longer together, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Hold on to something because this story is just absolutely ridiculous. The two boys broke up a few weeks ago, seemingly out of nowhere. Sirius Black seemed to be handling it worse than Lupin until he announced a new relationship with none other than Nico Mallory. Lupin also seems to have had a night with Lily Evans after the Evans girl posted a photo insinuating the two hooked up after arriving together to the new years eve ball. Lupin who was also seen getting close with none other than Gideon Prewett seems to be going through a hoe phase. But onto the best part, yesterday at the Hufflepuff party, Lupin was seen getting along very well with Mallory up until it was announced Mallory was dating his ex boyfriend. What will become of the two's relationship? Nobody knows.

Now onto the craziest couple in probably all of Hogwarts. Bartemius Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier. The two boys were seen kissing at the new years eve party only for Evan to barely remember and both boys to consult with long time friend and sister, Pandora Rosier. Evan who is engaged to Petra Elwood seemed to forget about the girl and their arranged marriage after finally confessing his feelings to his friend. The two are now dating and Petra is left in the dust for now. Although it seems Evans' previous confusion on his feelings for Petra have now been turned onto her as she battles with her future husband's new relationship and her own blossoming feelings for the boy. What will become of such a chaotic love triangle? Circle?

Callie held a ritual over the holidays??

Now onto my favorite news, MARY AND EMMELINE HAVE FINALLY CONFESSED TO ONE ANOTHER. My girl Mary finally made a move and it worked out perfectly. The two attended the New Year's Eve Ball and Potters Ball together. I wish you both nothing but the best in your relationship.

Tom Riddle has now become play boy extraordinaire? Tom who seems to run an after school club *cough* cult *cough* has been making moves on Hestia, Mary and Lydia. Even going as far as arguing with Emmeline over Mary and then arguing over Hestia with Marlene. I'd back off if I were you Riddle, these girls are not to be messed with.

Now onto the craziest breakup. Hestia and James Potter are no longer the IT couple of Hogwarts. The only stable couple still being Peter and Gilderoy. Maybe Hogwarts is cursed??? Hestia and James are now co-parenting their cat and Hestia was even seen kissing Marlene Mckinnon twice this past week or so. Hestia better treat my favorite girl right.

Also Marlene found out what I look like because she's my favorite girl, best secret keeper and we possibly kissed the world may never know. Love ya Marls ;).

Also Oliver, Severus and Theodore seem to have something going on but we'll see how that goes I guess? Theodore is making me very confused on what's going on.

We also have another new couple, Aurora De'veux and Mason Haus. Hopefully they can have a stable relationship unlike the rest of us. Good luck, lovebirds!

Now onto our last segment because I'm very tired of writing this long ass update. This is actually currently happening as I saw McGonagall, Filch and Slughorn run by while writing this— have you all ever seen Filch and Slughorn run? It's hilarious. ANYWHO the old ballroom is on fire??? AND an abandoned shed in the forest just past Hagrid's hut??? WHO IS PLAYING WITH FIRE???

Dumbledore is asking for updates or if anyone has knowledge on who could have possibly set these fires?? Apparently matches have been found at the scene of the fire–

That's all for now…

Tah-Tah💋

Until next time.

Remember Jamie's unworthy of your infatuation,

Marlene Mckinnon is hot,

And gossip is amazing.

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