#I cannot believe this was even allowed to be aired on TV

[girl4music]

My time with ‘Angel the Series’ is officially over. I will not be continuing watching the show from this point onwards because I’ve just watched something that shocked, angered and revolted me all at the same time that I almost projectile vomited. And no I will not elaborate on why or how. The tags will clue you in. It’s too NSFW to write about in the main post. But god…

To the writer of this episode -

I hope you went to therapy because that was horrific.

How this got passed The WB censors is beyond me.

I just… this is too much for me. So yeah, I’m done.

This was the last straw. Enough is e-fucking-nough!

I did want to watch Season 5 but I just can’t continue.

Not after seeing that. Experiencing that. I cannot.

This is worse than Willow and Tara, Spike and Buffy, Faith and Riley. It’s even worse than Buffy and Angel.

Network TV greenlit this for production and aired it in primetime hours. This could have destroyed the actors’ careers completely. Probably most likely did. ‘Angel the Series’ had a 9PM slot on a weekday so they would have likely avoided young children watching when it was a school night most nights. But my god… to show something like that in primetime is just wrong. Especially for a TV network like The WB.

[him-x-her]

Vee is for Vampires - Chapter 2

Author: @sinnysuicide AO3: SinnySioux Vamp!Ville x F!reader Wordcount: 2k + Warnings: Will be smut. 18+ only. Read chapter 2 on AO3. Previous Chapter ❥ Next Chapter ❥ Fic Masterlist

Chapter 2: “Burn The Hat”

What a strange evening.

I stand in the shower for an eternity, feeling every muscle in my body release its tension. My lungs fill with shower steam. I lazily turn the power off, towel dry my hair and walk sleepily to my bedroom. Once my hair is dry and I’m in my silk pyjamas, I lay back and stare at the ceiling.

As soon as I close my eyes, his green eyes force their way into my vision. His milky white skin. His pink and plump bottom lip, begging to be bitten. I cannot shake the image of him. It feels as though he is next to me, breathing the same air, close enough to kiss… I toss and turn for hours.

“This is fucking ridiculous!” I say out loud, in the darkness, disappointed at myself for my new obsession with the handsome stranger. I imagine him on top of me, my body sinking into the Egyptian cotton as he bites and sucks at my collarbone, and eventually fall asleep.

…

“Vee? What is Vee short for? Like Vincent fucking Price? I can’t BELIEVE you let him walk you home. He knows where you LIVE now. COMPLETE horror show!” rants Larissa on speakerphone as I gradually begin to lose the will to live.

I sigh heavily at her judgement. I could care less what she thinks. I consider excuses to end the call before she squeals in excitement. “Oh my god! Cute guy from the bar is calling! I gotta go!” and with a click I am alone with my thoughts.

Was it unwise to let him walk me home? I mean, he did rescue me from almost certain sexual assault. That has to count for something.

It’s a lazy Sunday. I clean my apartment, practise a bit of self care, and generally feel utterly restless. I switch on the tv for a bit of background noise.

“Today’s top story: two London men violently murdered. Police appeal for witnesses.”

I spin around on my heel and catch their faces, sure enough, the faces of my two attackers. “Fuck…” I whisper. My heart starts to race. He walked me home; I nearly invited a killer in. At the same time… surely, they deserved it? I didn’t see Vee use a weapon? Maybe they were drunk and choked on their own vomit? Maybe he didn’t mean to kill them?

“Oh god!” it dawns on me; what if I was an accomplice?! This is bad. I need to speak to him; to corroborate our story. How the fuck am I going to find him again? I spend an hour pacing my apartment, thinking about how to find him and talk to him. I decide on driving back to the bar, and looking for him around there. Maybe he would be looking for me too. I try to ignore the voice in my head telling me I am insane and going to get hurt.

I put on a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple black crop top. I need to make a bit of an effort in case I decide to go inside any bars. I put on a matt dark red lipstick and pop it in my clutch purse. I grab my car keys and speed out of the apartment complex.

I sit in the bar car park, uncomfortably close to an array of flowers left on the ground for the two pieces of shit who tried to hurt me. I wonder if the public would be so generous if they knew the type of men they were. I tap my steering wheel nervously, biting the inside of my lip. I sit listening to my favourite band, AFI, allowing the screams of Davey Havok to settle me.

An hour passes, it’s now 9pm. I feel utterly stupid. What are the chances of finding him, really? This is an utter waste of time. I turn the key in the ignition, when suddenly I notice a shadow in my rearview mirror. I turn the engine, and the music, off and listen. I see a man in a flat cap and… are those converse allstars? I swear Vee wore those the other night. I quietly exit my car and stealthily watch him. He chuckles, wiping what looks like blood (?!) from his lip and trudges forward. His balance is off, as though he’s been drinking far too much. Suddenly, he stops and looks up.

“You?” he laughs “Looking for trouble?” He ambles forward as I bite my lip, searching my brain for something witty to say.

“Looks like I found it”, I say, matter of factly, my chin raised to feign confidence. He closes the distance between us with a stride and looks down at me; his eyes that same glittery green, sparkling with curiosity and interest. His gaze drifts down to my lips and my heart starts to quicken. A smile makes his way across his lips as he tilts his head back to take all of me in. His teeth flash white in the dimly lit space.

“What did we say about walking around in the dark, hmm?”, he muses, “Vampires!” his eyes widen and he giggles.

I breathe him in. He smells woody, with a distinct smell of whisky. I think about licking whisky from his skin before I remind myself of the task at hand. “Vee… you killed those guys” I whisper, solemnly.

“Who? Oh, the pigs who tried to touch you against your will? Are you not relieved?” It is hard to argue with this logic.

“I, er, well… yes, but… I’d rather not get arrested for being an accomplice to murder!” I stumble through my words, wondering dismally why the fuck I bothered.

He leans back against my car and laughs wholeheartedly. “Shh, Vee, this is not funny!” I say, exasperated, but also trying not to laugh. He is adorable when drunk. Is this the same man who killed two men the other night? He stumbles and I grab his arm to keep him upright.

“Dammit, Vee, get in the car. I’m taking you home.” I roll my eyes as I open my door and get in.

He giggles again “Will you protect me from vampires? Garlic doesn’t work, just so that you’re aware!” He manages to get in without injuring himself and I sit beside him. I have a killer in my car: now fucking what?

“Okay, um, where do you live?” I ask, unsure if this is a good idea.

“Bloodlust Tower” he answers, unwavering.

“What??” I hiss, a little scared now.

“Beaufort Tower” he replies, grabbing my phone, “Let me type the postcode into your route planner”. I hook my phone to the speaker and my last played song starts again. Type O Negative’s Black No.1 begins to play, and I quickly turn it down, self conscious.

“You like Type O? Not just a beautiful face then!” he exclaims, turning the volume up. I blush furiously and try to maintain my composure as I set off on the 90 minute journey.

“Oh, uh, yeah… I love alternative music but I’m going through a gothic phase at the moment. I guess the sadder the music, the more beautiful it is… to me, at least”. I instantly regret the overshare but Vee leans in, placing a hand on my knee.

“I feel the same. It’s nice that you get it” he sighs, leaning back into his seat, “Music is my safe space. Whenever things get heavy, my guitar is always there for me”. He looks wistful.

“Oh… you play guitar?” I ask, imagining how on Earth this man could be any more attractive to me right now.

“Oh, yeah, um… I used to play professionally, in a band, we toured all over the world but, uh, yeah… that’s over now” he says, solemnly.

“You’ll have to play me something” I say, breaking my driving concentration to look at him and give him an earnest and encouraging smile. I’m certain I see him blush; though it’s hard to tell as he is so pale.

“So… what is Vee short for? Because I’m sure it isn’t Vampire” I laugh.

“What makes you so certain?” He implores.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just the knowledge that no good mother would name their child fucking Vampire!” he laughs heartily and I join in; the conversation flows and our connection feels so natural.

“It’s, Veel-uh, spelt V-I-L-L-E. It’s, um, it’s Finnish”. So he ISN’T English, I knew it!

“Wow, I’d love to visit Finland. Have you ever seen the northern lights? I can’t imagine anything more beautiful” I sigh.

“I can” he whispers, I look over and we lock eyes for a moment. Oh god, is he flirting? I suddenly feel hot; I need to change the subject.

“So, um, should we talk about the dead guys?” I say, sheepishly.

“Why?” mutters Ville “They’re dead”. I don’t see how he doesn’t think this is a problem.

“Ville…” he takes a sharp intake of breath as his name rolls off my tongue. I pretend not to notice. “I’m scared of being arrested and thrown in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, and I… I guess I’m scared for you too.” I can feel his eyes on me.

“You have nothing to fear, neither of us will be going to prison. Just trust me, okay?” I sigh.

“Okay, okay, I won’t bring it up again.” He smiles.

“Good… because I want to talk about you.” he smirks.

We talk about our tastes in music and find quite a lot of overlap. Ville loves Type O Negative, obviously, and is a total fangirl for Black Sabbath. He tells me he met my favourite band, AFI, at some award show. I half smile because I don’t believe him.

“So you grew up here?” He asks.

“Yeah, not London, but in England. I wish I could say I’ve travelled lots but I really haven’t. I’d love to quit work, travel around Europe….”

“Why don’t you?” he interjects.

“Money” I say honestly “Can’t say I have a sugar daddy, unfortunately” I smirk.

“What about your family? Parents?” asks Ville.

I pause, my heart heavy, “I, er, they died when I was six”.

Stunned, he whispers “I’m so sorry”.

I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Don’t be, I barely remember it” I smile dishonestly. “I think we’re here?” I pull into a large and long gravelled driveway; there are tall black ornate gates. Did I take a wrong turn? There is a keypad for entry.

Ville leans over. “Six six six”, he says.

“Seriously?!” I roll my eyes and type in the code, and drive right in. I pull up outside a grand stately home. It’s dark, and how I long to see it in the light. There is a small fountain out front. I imagine how beautiful this could be in the warm sun.

Ville gets out of the car and walks around the back “Oh, um, you’re really fucking welcome” I mutter, before he opens my door and offers me his hand. “Very gentlemanly” I giggle, taking his hand “Thanks.” I climb out of the car and shut the door. I look up at the tall building in wonderment.

“Are you coming?” Demands Ville, palm outstretched. I take his hand and follow him inside. The hallway is illuminated by a large glass chandelier. I spy a plush dark red velvet chaise longue, a matching soft rug, black candelabras. The mood is dark but romantic.

“Vee is definitely for vampires” I whisper; as Ville laughs out loud.

“Am I that transparent?” he asks.

“I don’t know, let’s ask your gothic decor, shall we?” I smirk, teasing him. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing following a dangerous man into his remote home, but I must admit that part of me would be just fine if he murdered me on the chaise longue by candlelight.

He starts to climb the large wooden staircase, carpeted with - you guessed it - a dark red velvet runner down the middle. Ville turns back and looks at me “Come.” He demands.

My heart sinks. “Ville, I don’t know what kind of woman you think I am but-“

“I owe you a song”, his face softens as he interjects, his lips part, his eyes plead.

“Okay” I say, warily. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. There are beautiful oil paintings leading up the stair case. Night scenes, moons, woodland creatures on canvas. He is definitely a night owl, in love with all things dark, and I can’t help but find it endearing.

He reaches his large pale hands, adorned with pewter rings, in front of him and thrusts them into two tall wooden double doors. It’s so dark, I blink several times to acclimatise to the void in front of me. Ville reaches in his pocket and moves around the room, clicking his lighter. In a moment, the room is illuminated by beautiful black candlesticks. The walls are red, of course they are. Another chaise longue. A beautiful double mirrored vintage black wardrobe. In front of me is a huge four poster bed. The ornate wood is black, the sheets are what look like dark red silk. Everything about this room is elegant, but I can’t shake the air of loneliness that lingers within the walls.

“Take a seat, my darling” he purrs, and walks to the corner of the room. He removes his blazer jacket, throwing it to the ground. He’s wearing a black vest, his luscious milky skin glowing in contrast. I notice the swirling pattern of thorns down one arm; a beautiful intricate tattoo sleeve. I perch on the chaise longue, fearing that lying on his bed would send the wrong message. I’m not about to sleep with him at the drop of a hat, no matter how attractive he is. He grabs an acoustic guitar from one of several stands: he has quite the collection, and walks towards me.

He stops a couple metres from me and sits down cross legged. He tunes his guitar whilst my eyes wander. I realise he’s removed the hat and he has the most beautiful darkened curls of hair. I imagine running my hands through them as his face is buried in my… Christ, I need to get a grip. All of a sudden he begins to play;

“You can't escape the wrath of my heart

Beating to your funeral song

All faith is lust for hell regained

And love dust in the hands of shame

Let me bleed you this song of my heart deformed

Lead you along this path in the dark

Where I belong until I feel your warmth

Hold me like you held on to life

When all fears came alive and entombed me

Love me like you loved the sun

Scorching the blood in my vampire heart

I'll be the thorns in every rose

You've been sent by hope

I am the nightmare waking you up

From the dream of a dream of love

Let me weep you this poem as heaven's gates close

Paint you my soul scarred and alone

Waiting for your kiss to take me back home

Hold me like you held on to life

When all fears came alive and entombed me

Love me like you loved the sun

Scorching the blood in my vampire heart”

As he sings, I feel his pain. He closes his eyes and bares his soul. He has a deep voice when he speaks, but when he sings his range is amplified. The hairs on my neck stand on end and my skin tingles. I just want to hold him; to comfort him.

“Ville… that was…” I am breathless “that was beautiful.” He looks up and smiles wistfully at me. Spontaneously, I stand and walk over to him. I kneel in front of him and wrap my arms around him. His back is stiff and strong beneath my palms. The smell of whiskey still lingering. He does not move. My fingertips reach up to caress the curls at the back of his head and I bury my face in his neck. “Ville… who hurt you?” My voice breaking; his body softens and his large hands make their way around my back.

He nuzzles into my neck and sighs deeply. Whispering, he says “I have been lonely for so, so long. I have spent years holding on to the faintest hope that love would find me…” I tense my arms to hold him tighter and he begins to pull away.

His hands grasp my shoulders lightly. He pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. His face is a mere inch from mine. His beautiful green eyes searching mine for something. “Who ARE you?” he implores.

I blush “What do you mean?”

His eyes drop to my lips. “Where have you been, baby?” I stop breathing. The world stands still. His lips crash into mine.

Our lips move together as he tilts his head. I feel him run his tongue lightly between my lips, begging for entry. I open my mouth to take a small breath and his tongue claims mine. Lapping, massaging, caressing my tongue with his. His hands on my back become heavier as he pulls me toward him; removing the small gap between our bodies. My knees find themselves either side of Ville’s waist as I straddle his lap. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling, teasing. Suddenly, Ville breaks the kiss “I can’t!” he pleads, looking torn.

“W-what?” I whisper, dejected.

“You deserve more than this, a sober man for starters. You are far too good for me-“ I silence him with my index finger on his lips.

“Shh” I soothe him “You are enough; don’t try to convince me - or anyone - that you are less.” I kiss his forehead lovingly and he lets out a contented sigh.

Again, he whispers “Where have you been, baby? I wanted you for so long”. He looks into my eyes with yearning. “I’ve been here, waiting for you. Only you, Ville.”

His bright eyes and smile light the darkness around us. “Let’s not do this on the floor” smirks Ville as he pulls me to stand and walks me to the foot of his enormous bed. My hand begins to shake in his as my anxiety makes itself known to him. Ville strokes his hand up and down my arm as comfort; “I’m not expecting anything at all. I just want you to feel comfortable”. We sit on the edge of the bed and he cups my face with his pale hands, and kisses me sweetly. I kick off my boots and shuffle up the bed. He follows suit and we lie, arms wrapped around each other, exploring our mouths with our tongues.

My fingers wrapping around his curls, he giggles. “You like the hair, huh?” He asks.

“Mmm” I reply “Burn the hat”; he smiles into our kiss.

I lean back to look at him. His eye lashes are longer than I realised up close. There are tiny wrinkles either side of his eyes from smiling and laughing. He has a slight stubble and soft, plump, pink lips; a bright white grin and beautiful emerald green irises. My fingers travel the thorn sleeve from his wrist to his elbow. He shivers and closes his eyes. “What?” I smile.

“You” he replies “Your touch, your skin…” he signs as his eyes wander “I am demonstrating excellent self restraint right now”. He grins wickedly.

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Please, baby” he sighs “I’m trying to be a gentleman”.

We spend hours talking about our hopes, our dreams, touching, giggling, kissing. He promises to take me to Finland; and to play me a song every morning on his guitar. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, nuzzling into the back of my neck, and we fall asleep in each others arms.

…

I have never slept so well in my life. I roll over to find Ville on his back, still sleeping. It’s still so dark in his room but I can see a strip of white light around the black out curtains. It must be morning. I gently sneak out of bed to grab my purse and find my phone. I have a couple of hours before work, so I have a half hour or so to snuggle with Ville. I crawl into bed on all fours, trying to wake Ville with light kisses on his forehead, temples, cheeks.

“Wow, you sleep like the dead!” I mutter. I place my palm on his shoulder and shake him gently. “Wake up, I have work soon” I purr. I dial the sensuality up a notch and start to lick and nip at his neck. He jolts and his limbs stiffen. I trail the tip of my tongue from his neck, up and around his jawline, until I reach his bottom lip. I nip it slightly with my teeth and he grabs both of my wrists and swiftly twists himself on top of me.

His eyes are not green, but dark. He kisses me deeply, but I sense something is off. He’s silent, he’s rough… something is not right.

“Ville… stop!”. He grabs my jaw with his hand and forces it aside. He moves to my neck and bites down. I feel his sharp teeth and scream.

He jolts back, as if woken from a dream. His eyes are light green and wide; his mouth crimson with my blood “Oh god… FUCK… I am so sorry!” He loosens his grip and I scramble from the bed, grabbing my heels and my purse.

I am trembling and crying and running through the darkness. HOW is his home this dark?!? I reach the front door and hear him running down the staircase. “Please! I’m sorry! Let me explain!” My legs threaten to give way underneath me as I hesitate, part of me wanting to give him a chance. My neck hurts and I place pressure on it. I move my hand in front of me and gasp at the bloody mess on my fingertips. He reaches a hand towards me and I shove my hip into the door with full force. It swings open and the sunlight bears down on his arm; I watch his pallid skin sizzle and smoke in the bright light. He screams in pain and falls backward and I run to my car. I pull the door open, fling my belongings into the passenger seat and lock the doors. The adrenaline pumping through my body, I drive fast towards the large ornate gates. I type in 666 and speed away from this nightmare, a flurry of tears raining across my steering wheel and my lap. I hear myself sobbing but I persevere until I am home.

I rush into my flat, lock the door and fall to the floor; I cry and cry until I am empty. I step into the bathroom and observe the damage. Two puncture wounds on my neck. Just when I am sure I have no tears left, I begin to cry again. I cleanse the wound and flinch at the sting. I bandage myself up the best that I can, lie face down on my bed, and sob until I pass out.

AO3: SinnySioux; more to come 🦇

Graphics by saradika-graphics

[klausinamarink]

happy birthday to @penny00dreadful!

Now have the Spider-Man Eddie fic you’ve been hungry for!

thanks to @pearynice for the beta read!

Chapter 1: The Bite

The van just barely makes it inside the shop before it collapses, all four wheels popping out like a cartoon, with the heavy coat of dust exploding into the air like a mushroom cloud. A perfect summary of Eddie’s life right now.

His forehead lands directly on the center of the steering wheel. The horn goes off long enough for someone to rapidly knock on the window. Said window immediately shatters into a bazillion pieces, earning a couple swears from the person outside. Eddie says nothing. He pushes the scorching tears behind his eyeballs and whips his head up with a wide smile. “Sorry I’m late, boss,” Eddie greets nonchalantly, like he isn't crying on the inside. 

“Hey to yourself, Munson, but what the fuck happened to your van?” Olive’s eyes are as wide as a bug as they stare at the vehicle in horror. “Scratch that - how did you even drive?”

“It’s a real funny story, actually.” Eddie cracks the door open and swings his legs out. His boots hit the ground gracefully, but despite the urge to immediately fall and curl up into a ball, Eddie remains standing.

“Picture this: you see the morning traffic on the expressway so you decide to go on a shortcut. Said shortcut also turns out to be a disaster for a very different reason. Can you guess what happened?”

Olive doesn’t have a chance to open their mouth before Eddie barrels on, “I swear to god, boss, it was something from those old D&D books. It was a creature from literal Hell! It rammed right into my van and broke my windshield. I thought it was some lost deer or something, but I couldn’t leave to check because then it stood up and its face opened up!”

Eddie brings his hands to his face and rapidly motions them as jaws clamping together. It doesn’t fit the exact description of seeing a spindly thing suddenly reaching out ninety percent of its face as rows of razor-sharp teeth, but it’s close.

“Obviously, I scream and I hide back inside the van. And the next thing I know, that thing was gone and it fucked up my van even more.”

He also leaves out the details of how he hid in the back and cried like a baby, but that wasn’t anybody’s business.

Olive stares at him with utter bewilderment. They rub a hand over their face with an insufferable sigh, “Okay, I don’t believe half of what you just said-”

“It’s not a lie! That shit is probably on the news by now!”

“-but because your van is in that state, I’m giving you some mercy to fix it until the end of the week.” 

The van makes another shuddering sound. Eddie doesn’t dare to turn around yet. But whatever it is, it makes Olive grimace. 

“If you can even repair it.”

Eddie claps his hands together and bows down to the waist, almost weeping in relief. “Thank you, boss.”

Olive is already walking away, “Until Saturday!” 

They disappear into their office. Then Eddie finally drops to the ground.

He’s still shaking from the whole ordeal. But he’s more freaked out about his new transportation plan and car insurance than the flower-faced monster. 

Eddie should count himself lucky that he’s even allowed to repair his van, but it’s only Tuesday and there is no way he can make it look good as new by the weekend. His van is an older model and replacement shipments will take more than a week to arrive, even if he were to call them now. Meaning that Eddie will have to either take the van to another garage (already unlikely, too expensive) or finally give her up to the junkyard (already likely). If he has to take the second option, he will need to find buy another vehicle (fucking impossible) or endure the public transport.

The more he tries to think through, the quicker he spirals. Suddenly, Eddie cannot breathe and he’s pounding on his chest like breaking his ribs will fix it.

A cold sensation taps the back of his neck. Eddie springs up with shock, clamping a hand over the skin. Patrick is standing over him, glass water bottle in hand.

Eddie wordlessly takes the water and gulps half of it in one go. It’s too cold and gives him major brain freeze, but it helps him calm down a bit.

“Thanks, man.”  

“No problem, Munson,” Patrick helps Eddie up to his feet. He jerks his chin at the van, “You seriously going to fix that by yourself?” 

“Already am,” Eddie grunts, tying his hair up into a bun.

“I can get Ronnie for the hose to wash the dirt off.”

Eddie shakes his head, already walking off to the cleaning station, “I got it. No need to help.”

Yeah, I can fix the van like it’s new again by Saturday. Absolutely no problem. 

This is fine. 

-

Eddie is still under the van when his cell phone rings. He ignores it at first, determined to finish the exhausts. It rings again, louder than his drill. Eddie sighs and rolls out, blinking rapidly at the bright ceiling lights burning his retinas. Might as well have a quick break. 

He grabs his phone from where it sits on a nearby box and answers, tired and unkindly.

“Yeah?”

“Eddie, where the hell are you?! You should be picking us up by now!”

Eddie blanks. It takes a few seconds for him to properly absorb Jeff’s words.

“Uh-” He quickly looks around. The whole place is suddenly deserted with the garage doors now closed. Looking through the windows shows him it has gone dark outside. 

“Shit.” 

“Yeah.” He can practically hear Jeff rolling his eyes. “We’re at the gym- Gareth, put that stupid candy down, it’s just meth!” 

“W-Wait, wait, hold on-” Eddie is standing in the middle of the garage like an idiot because his brain is going millions of miles per minute and he is trying to remember what the date is. “What do you mean you’re at the gym?” 

“We’re at Frankie’s gym! Think you can break the ten minute record?” 

Eddie doesn’t answer. He’s staring blankly at the empty sockets of his van’s headlights instead of checking the time.

When Jeff speaks again, it’s in an awfully calm tone that brings Eddie flashbacks to his shitty teachers all the way back in elementary school. 

“Eddie. You’re at your apartment. Right?”

Eddie bites viciously at his thumb, right between the cuticle and skin. 

“Eddie-”

“I was… just leaving…” God, Eddie wishes he can shrink straight up into nonexistence. “You know, uh- the- the garage…”

He holds his cell phone as far as he can, just in case Jeff would scream profanities into his ear. But because he’s the best friend in the world, Jeff doesn’t do that. Instead, Eddie hears him take a long deep breath.

“Okay,” Jeff clicks his tongue, “here’s what we’re going to do. I’m gonna tell Frankie to take our shit and he’ll drive us over to the bar. You meet us there in twenty. Do not forget your guitar.”

His heart rate going up in a spike, Eddie starts biting into the skin of his fingernails. There is no way for him to make it in time without calling for a taxi and even those rides cost money. 

“Jeff, man, listen-” Eddie swallows back the beginnings of a sob, “My van is fucking busted and I literally can’t make it to the Hideout without using the subway. And that’s gonna take me an hour!”

When Jeff doesn’t say anything, Eddie starts to assume the worst. But several seconds pass with more silence, Eddie frowns and checks his phone’s screen.

Even when he rapidly taps on the screen, it remains pitch-black.

Of course his phone chooses that exact moment to die on him. And people call him the dramatic one.

Eddie runs his hands through his hair, almost uncaring about how tangled and greasy it is. Before he can consider yelling or breaking something out of frustration, Eddie starts grabbing his things, throws them into his bag, and books it out of the garage.

Usually, the cool night air would refresh him after a tiring workday surrounded by oils and smoky gears, but Eddie barely cares as he breaks into a sprint.

Twenty minutes should be enough time to catch the train to his place, grab his Sweetheart, and meet up with the guys for their bar performance, right?

He’s almost out of breath by the time he gets to the closest subway station - Creel Station is as filthy as its corporation namesake - but he’s relieved to see that it’s still open. He nearly breaks his neck from running down the stairs but Eddie doesn’t stop until he makes it to the platform.

Collapsing on the nearest bench, Eddie mentally congratulates himself while panting for air. At least he can handle waiting for a few minutes until the train arrives. 

So he waits. 

And waits.

Aaand waits.

Eddie keeps checking his watch every time he thinks the subway is coming. Ten minutes has passed. 

It could be very delayed. His surviving rational brain suggests. Eddie almost believes it.

When twenty minutes pass with no subway in sight, Eddie decides to take advantage of being the only person on the platform and just yell out to the uncaring void.

Now he’s faced with a terrible dilemma: leave and face whatever more miserable luck awaits him or somehow get to the next station.

Naturally, he chooses the wisest decision.

“Why the hell not?” He grumbles to himself as he hops down on the tracks and starts walking. He’s grown up with a carjacking dad and escaped the cops for selling weed and ketamine back in high school. What’s more incriminating than a little tunnel adventure?

It’s only after entering the tunnel that Eddie realizes one thing: it’s too dark. Even with the lights aligning the ceiling, they barely reflect the metal rails. If his phone battery hadn’t run out, then he would have used the flashlight to see properly.

Eddie mutters more curses under his breath, but he’s already too far to turn around. Besides, what’s he supposed to do at this point? Buy a flashlight at the nearest convenience store?

He shuffles to one side of the wall, careful not to trip over the rails or any suspicious puddles. He keeps a hand brushing against the wall, doing his very best to ignore the gross dirt and spiderwebs. 

The first few stations he makes it through are all empty. But unlike Creel Station, the gates to the outside are closed to the public. It makes Eddie a bit claustrophobic but he tries to pretend that it doesn’t bother him. Last thing he needs is a stress-induced heart attack. 

He does wonder why Creel Station hasn’t been closed off if there was apparently no one else there. But Eddie’s starting to see some blurriness in the edges of his vision so he’s desperate to just go home. 

Also because, let’s face it, he can’t make it to the Hideout. He’s going to have to apologize and explain to Jeff and the other guys in the morning. 

But he probably won’t have enough time because now Eddie has to start waking up early and find some way to get to work.

Just as Eddie starts to curse at the world, the toe of his boot hits something. 

Then Eddie is falling forward.

Something very solid hits his face. He barely feels the sharp explosion of pain inside of his mouth before Eddie sees everything going completely black. 

-

The first thing he registers after returning to consciousness is that his nose hurts like hell. 

He’s groggy like he had too many drinks. Drinks. Right, Eddie had gone to the Hideout earlier. 

Wait, didn’t he? 

No, he hadn’t. He was supposed to be on his way there hours ago.

Eddie tries to get up but his head is full of lead and his body is like a rusty car due for a junkyard crushing. 

He tastes the pang of copper in his mouth. He runs a tongue over his teeth, hoping none of them got chipped or broken. They feel fine, but his tongue definitely hurts more at the tip. Must have bitten it. 

When Eddie finally pushes himself up, he cringes at the dirt and a piece of litter sticking to his face. Right. I went into the tunnels like a genius.

It takes a moment before he’s fully on his feet. Even then, Eddie leans against the wall to stop his head from spinning. 

He spits out some of the blood. It lands on the rail, a speckle of red reflecting too brightly on the gray metal. 

“Okay,” Eddie tells himself, “move on and get the fuck out of here.”

Once he feels stable enough and knows his ankles haven’t twisted, Eddie continues on walking. 

As he arrives at the fourth station, his feet are killing him and his eyelids are drooping. He checks his watch but what do you know, the face is cracked and he can’t hear a single tick. 

For all he knows, three days may have passed and his poor uncle is losing his mind. 

Maybe the others had already held a funeral for him. Eddie can see Jeff on the podium and giving the eulogy. Here lies our friend Eddie who died doing what he loved - succumbing to the urge to return to dark holes. Anyway, who wants his guitar?

At this point, Eddie may as well just curl up into a ball and wait for the subway to finally arrive and turn his misery into red mist.

Then there’s a resounding growl from behind.

Eddie whirls around, suddenly much more alert. He stares down at the dark end of the tunnel, expecting it to be the long-lost subway.

But nothing greets him.

All hairs on the back of his neck stand up nonetheless. The morning’s incident flashes before Eddie’s eyes. The flash of teeth in petal-shaped gums. The guttural shrieks and its casual ripping of metal. 

That was under broad daylight. Now he is in a possibly abandoned subway station late at night, very much alone with no contact for help.

But because he’s an idiot, too small and stressed for this massive world, he calls out, “Hello?” 

His mind might be playing tricks on him, a sadistic attempt to get him to fall asleep as soon as possible regardless of the filthy environment. Or maybe it’s just one of the maintenance workers. 

The growl starts again, closer this time.  

Nevermind, fuck that.

Within seconds, Eddie is climbing on the platform and dashing across the station. There’s not a single soul in sight and it accelerates his terror more. Eddie swears he can hear the growling again.

As he gets to the stairs, he prays that the gates aren’t closed and that he can make it aboveground.

When he sees the open path to the night sky, Eddie cries. 

He embraces the night air this time. But Eddie doesn’t stop, his vision blurring. He runs and runs until his legs and lungs give away at once and he collapses against a brick wall in an alleyway.

Eddie pants heavily, his lungs growing tighter with a cold dryness. As his breathing slows to normal, Eddie oh-so carefully peeks out of the alley, opting to stay hidden. 

He just sees regular people and cats on the streets. No shadow demons chasing after him. 

Eddie slides down to the ground, covering his face with his hands. He takes a moment to sob, but it gets stuck in his throat. He almost forces it out but it does make him shed some tears, so it’s a little more cathartic. 

Talk about a fucking day.

Eddie drops his hands and sucks in another breath. Before he can think about his next options to go home, Eddie feels a sudden itch on his arm. 

He scratches it, almost absentmindedly. That is until the itch starts crawling its way down his arm.

Eddie looks down in time to see a spider the size of a coin emerging from under his sleeve.

Now, Eddie is usually arachnophobic, but his reaction to tiny eight-legged demons has a delay of a few seconds. So he spends that time just staring at the spider crawling to a stop at the back of his hand. He even admires it. Unless the lighting has gotten otherworldly, the spider is glowing faintly with a tie-dye mix of red and blue. Its tiny round eyes almost seem to blink up at him.

He thinks, Huh, it looks kind of cute.

And then it bites him. 

To his credit, Eddie doesn’t even scream. 

He just does it after smacking the spider to death. 

-

read more on ao3!

[beardedmrbean]

Even liberal San Francisco voters are getting tough on crime and public disorder.

Residents of the City by the Bay approved ballot measures Tuesday to set minimum police staffing levels, allow officers to chase suspects under reasonable suspicion they have committed or will commit a felony or nonviolent misdemeanor — with the help of drones — and set up public safety cameras that could use facial recognition technology to apprehend perps.

Another proposition that passed requires anyone who receives employment assistance, housing, shelter, utilities or food from city coffers to submit to drug screenings — and denies them those benefits unless they enter a treatment program.

The San Francisco Police Department had prohibited officers from pursuing nonviolent offenders unless there was an imminent risk to public safety.

Mayor London Breed, a Democrat, backed the ballot measures as she eyes re-election to a second full term in November — while facing challenges from Daniel Lurie, a nonprofit executive, and current and former city officials including ex-interim mayor Mark Farrell.

“We want San Francisco to be exactly what the people who live here want to see,” Breed said at a cocktail bar surrounded by supporters as the results rolled in Tuesday night, according to Politico. “And that is a safe, affordable place to call home.”

Voters also overwhelmingly approved tighter ethics rules for city employees regarding the receipt of gifts and mandating the teaching of Algebra I in schools by eighth grade.

Ballot measures allow voters to directly change laws during elections without the help of their elected officials.

Following a spate of state and local changes to crime policies in recent, San Francisco has been dogged by retail crime sprees, burglaries, rampant open-air drug use and public defecation.

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, during a high-profile TV debate this past November against former San Francisco Mayor and current California Gov. Gavin Newsom, pointed to the city’s downfall as proof of failed liberal policies.

Dozens of big-name businesses have departed the city’s formerly bustling downtown area since 2020, the year after Breed was elected. Drug overdose deaths also hit a record high last year, with 806 recorded.

The descent into lawlessness was turbocharged by the COVID-19 pandemic and widespread rioting following the killing of George Floyd by Minneapolis police in summer 2020, as San Francisco and other cities embraced calls to defund law enforcement.

Breed supported a $120 million cut from the city’s police budget in 2020 — but reversed course the following year and pleaded with the San Francisco Board of Supervisors to restore funding.

“I’m proud this city believes in giving people second chances,” she said in December 2021. “Nevertheless, we also need there to be accountability when someone does break the law … Our compassion cannot be mistaken for weakness or indifference … I was raised by my grandmother to believe in ‘tough love,’ in keeping your house in order, and we need that, now more than ever.”

The pivot to the center came just in time, as disgruntled San Francisco voters went on the following year to recall District Attorney Chesa Boudin, a progressive prosecutor and former public defender.

Before that, parents had ousted three members of the city’s school board for pushing a progressive political agenda and keeping classrooms closed during the coronavirus pandemic.

A former city supervisor, Breed was elected mayor in 2018 to finish out the term of the late Ed Lee, who died in office. She was later elected to a five-year term in November 2019.

She is still working to regain the trust of law enforcement officials, however, with the San Francisco Deputy Sheriffs’ Association saying in November that her “commitment to dismantling the criminal justice system has remained a focal point.”

Breed is battling a high disapproval rating, with 71% of likely general election voters taking exception to her job performance, according to a San Francisco Chronicle poll last month.

The city’s ranked-choice voting system could also throw a wrench into Breed’s re-election bid if she does not receive at least 50% support in the initial round, as second- and third-place candidates often receive more votes than those at the top of the ticket.

[puppy-phum]

8 Shows to Get to Know Me

thank you for tagging me josi @wanderlust-in-my-soul​​ ♥ am always happy to talk about shows that are important to me~

(tried to write these down in order from oldest to newest! meaning: when they came into my life and changed me)

I. Merlin (2008-2012)

one of the first shows i ever watched from a streaming site (aka illegally online haha), tho i did start watching it while it was airing on our tv. i adore the atmosphere, the world, the characters, and the whole journey throughout all five seasons. it feels whole. the fandom here is also amazing, even if i mostly watch it from afar ♥

II. Theory of Love (2019)

am not really sure when exactly i watched this for the first time, but i have vague memories of the last ep or the special ep only having just aired. it was one of my first introductions to bls - to good and more thoughtful bls - and i loved it with my whole chest. after rewatching it a year ago, i can still say it’s one of those shows that has rearranged something permanently in me. 

III. Sense8 (2015-2018)

the show that feels like it was made for me. it’s just so full of things i love: fantasy, mysteries, action, character bonds, found family, love, acceptance, understanding, and even psychological themes. i love each of the characters very dearly and enjoyed all of their relationships with each other. i also loved what this show did with intimacy, both the emotional and physical kind, by showing how it can be a source of great comfort. 

IV. The Untamed (2019)

my first ever cdrama that opened up a whole new world for me. it became one of my first ever big hyperfixations, one of my great loves. it let me dive into the world of other cdramas and so even more great shows. and it brought me to many new things and ppl here on tumblr after leading me into editing and so to the mdzs network ♥

V. The Lost Tomb 2 / Explore With The Note (2019)

i cannot really pack dmbj into only one show bc each of the adaptations has given me something to chew on, but tlt2 is always my baby. it is the show that made me love pingxie, the show that made me insane about their story, and the show i would die for. it gave me serious brainrot for such a long time, and even if it’s not the best one of the adaptations, it’s still very, very dear to me.

VI. You’re My Glory (2021) 

i never thought a romance show would get to me but this one did in so many ways. it taught me some precious lessons and i think it changed how i see accomplishments, dreams, and working hard to reach personal goals. it gave me hope and strength, and it just made me believe in love that is comfortable and adjusts to your needs. 

VII. Bad Buddy (2021)

the show that changed me about a year ago. the show that somehow opened up a lock inside of me, that allowed me to feel new things, that comforted me and understood me. idk if any bl can ever feel as much home as bb does. little did i know that when i started watching this silly bl during the christmas it was still airing, it would consume me, heart and soul, and then lead me here, wrapped up in this bl world. 

VIII. Vice Versa (2022)

if there’s one show to define me right now, to define me for the past year, it’s vice versa. it’s everything to me in every sense. it’s a show i go to when i want to cry, or smile, or feel warm, or happy, or sad, or delighted, or comforted, or loved. it’s a show that feels like a hug, a show that heals me in all the ways i need to be healed. it means so much to me. and it doesn’t hurt that it’s still one of the most beautiful bls i’ve ever seen ♥ (i could write essays of vv, tho at the same time it feels like the jane austen quote, “if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more”)

some honorary mentions: 

The Long Ballad (2021), Not Me (2021), My Country: The New Age (2019), The Blood of Youth (2022), and 3 Will Be Free (2019)

tagging: @leonpob​ @stormyoceans​ @dimpledpran​ @hils79​ @psychic-waffles​ @ardentlytess​ @oswlld​ @sanoreo​ ♥

[bugzcrunch]

What We Could Have Been

03.6.2023

Do you hate me for missing him? The abuse? I was so blind to word, a beck and call and so afraid to harm and disappoint. I fault for nothing, every single effort in vain just like before. Suddenly, however, I’ve become the bad one, something I still don’t know how. Maybe I think too much but this boy, in school, he smells just like him. His touch is so gentle though and he holds me and smiles, to him I am a gift. He’s sweet and maybe oblivious but I enjoy his touch and company. He’s already resorted to calling me his boyfriend, do you spite me for it my love? I have no control it feels, and I have no voice. It will end in heart break, that I know. All relationships seem to, this will be no different, but will you still love me the same? I’m frightened; admittedly—of being taken advantage of again. I find myself paranoid and breaking, there’s no way out and I am lost. Please guide me, I’m useless without word and I’m worthless without someone else giving me a purpose. I am empty without others. I allow my everything to be so utterly controlled what if this sweet boy realizes this too? I want to love him, maybe. He would be nice to love and gentle for once, an innocent puppy love that I was never allowed to experience. His hands are gentle, and his words are too, he calls me Hunny and dear. I’ve never felt more enticed. Maybe it is wrong of me. Maybe without knowledge everything I do is wrong. I maybe make mistakes without realizing, please please. Please I'm afraid. What if I'm as horrible as I believe? I have done no wrong, I am conscious of every word and decision I make but what if it is truly despicable? What if I have committed an atrocity? My silence is loud but my words are deafening, I’m unsure which evil is the lesser. Ignorance is pure bliss but bliss becomes painful, I find myself overstimulated and crying. I want to run back to the abuse, to feel loved. My normal is harm and dishonor, I do not respect myself or my body enough to be used even at my most vulnerable hours. Even while I sleep, I feel his hands on me. I feel his body. I’ve never regretted loving someone before, trusting them. Whether a lie or not, I will never recover. I know this is what he wanted and its exactly what he achieved. I’m sure he’s proud. I am sick. I am ill. I am—perhaps for an instant—dying. Being hazed and cross faded, sold, smacked, run away, and more I have destroyed the one thing I took so much pride in: my body. It is ruined and I am done with it. I’m done with it all. My love , if you had been real I imagine you caressing my cheek and wiping my tears as you coo to me. Maybe you even hum and rub my back, dig your fingers into my most sensitive spots to feel me melt beneath your touch. I breathe fresh air with you and it stings. Maybe you’d lay me down with your hands in my line of sight, turn on tv and rub circles into my stomach and skin. For every mumble, sniffle and whine you kiss me and whisper my cares away. Be gentle with me for I am breaking and fragile. My hinges are broke and whine with each motion, I cannot fathom fixing something that’s been apart of me for so very long. Just love me and I will think you are a God amongst men. This perhaps will be my downfall. If my downfall is for you however my love, I would willingly splatter against the pavement and still find parts—even pieces of me in your arms.

A devoted, fragile follower.  

[qualitycare23]

Why it is important to do Sanitization and disinfection

Germs are part of everyday life. Some germs are beneficial, while others can cause illness. They are everywhere, in the air, soil, water, and food. They can be found on our skin and in our bodies. Germs can also be found on surfaces and objects we touch. It is therefore essential to perform Sanitization and disinfection.

These germs can sometimes spread to you, making you sick. There could be germs in a remote control for your TV. If you touch the remote, then you could be infected if your nose or eyes are irritated.

How do I prevent germs from surfaces or objects?

It is important to wash your hands frequently to avoid getting infected with germs on surfaces and objects. However, you cannot wash your hands each time you touch an object. It's important to disinfect and clean surfaces regularly.

What's the difference between cleaning, disinfecting, and sanitizing?

Many people believe that disinfecting is the same as cleaning or sanitizing. They are two different things.

Cleaning cleans surfaces and objects of dirt, dust, and crumb. You will use soap or detergent and water to clean the characters and objects. Although this may not kill germs, it can help. However, you will have fewer germs that could spread the infection to others since you've removed some.

Disinfecting uses chemicals to kill germs on surfaces or objects. Common disinfectants include bleach and alcohol. To kill germs, you will need to allow the disinfectant to remain on surfaces and other objects for a time. You can't disinfect dirty surfaces or eliminate germs.

Cleaning can be done with disinfecting or cleaning. Sanitizing is a way to reduce the risk of infection. The public health standards and requirements for schools, workplaces, and other facilities will determine what is safe. There are sanitation procedures that must be followed in restaurants and other food preparation facilities. You will need to decide what you want to clean. A mop, chemicals and water might be used to mop a floor. To wash dishes, you might use a dishwasher. You could also use an antibacterial wipe on the remote of your TV.

You can reduce the chance of spreading infection by cleaning and disinfecting surfaces or objects at the same time. Many products can clean and disinfect simultaneously.

What surfaces and objects should I clean and disinfect?

You should clean surfaces and other objects frequently to prevent infection. This would include countertops, doorknobs and faucets in your home, as well as light switches, remotes, toys, and light switches. We also provide Laundry duct cleaning if you want, you can always quality care services in Dubai.

How do I safely clean and disinfect?

The use of disinfecting and cleaning products should be done with caution.

Keep them in the original containers. Follow the instructions exactly and pay close attention to any warnings.

Mix cleaners and disinfectants only if the label says it is safe. Combining products such as ammonia and chlorine bleach can lead to serious injury or even death.

To protect your eyes and hands, check the label.

Follow the instructions on the label if you inhale, swallow or apply them to your skin. If this happens, seek medical attention.

Keep them out of reach of children.

[starrysmiling]

concept bouncing around in my head: fern doesn't have any real affinity for displays of romantic affection. he's not interested, just as a base point, in things typical couples do like hold hands or kiss or whatever, as a way of showing affection. like at all.

i don't think that means he never does that, nor do i think that his dating jax changes this at all.

because i think he would absolutely comply if jax wanted to or asked (whether this be faux-reluctantly or without hesitation would depend on the situation, but it does not change that he would do it without real complaint), and he would absolutely allow jax to do it even if he didn't ask, unless some other situation takes priority (like the fact that he doesn't want them to be front-page on sketchy tabloids every time they breathe in the same air).

i also don't think he doesn't initiate, either. it's rare, but it's just never as a way of directly telling jax "yeah, believe it or not, i actually want to spend the rest of my life with you." like... he kisses during sex because it feels good. he snuggles into jax's shoulder when they hug or when they're in bed because jax is damn comfortable. hell, fern is shameless about kissing with ulterior motives, though largely it's either as a distraction or because he wants sex. even more rarely, he'll have a moment where he initiates because he enjoys seeing jax's reaction. he knows he can make jax happy when he offers a kiss at random moments, and he likes seeing jax smile afterwards. (he probably only does this when he's too sleepy to think about it. again, he doesn't do this to tell jax that he loves him; he does it because he's selfishly selfless.)

from that you can probably infer that he loves jax anyway. but i think intention is important in fern's case because his focus is not "i love you" but a whole heap of other things strewn together (i'm incredibly proud of you) (i want you to be happy) (you give me respite and i am forever grateful) (i would be happy to just watch tv with you on sunday afternoons) that make up his not-really-named concept of love.

it's also worth to note that fern doesn't hate touch. it's not his love language, but he's used to receiving it, whether that be in the form of affectionate gestures from his mom, or mild playing rough with ace or fresia or jax, or even in the form of sex, which is clearly, for him, detached from the notion of romance. for fern specifically, touch is a way of confirming what is solid and real, what he cannot confirm with just his eyes. (this is more relevant to other aus like crime syndicate, but it's worth noting that he will use it in this way when he gets aros un-cubed.) it's also a way to enjoy pleasure, and a way of communication, both of which are very important to fern as well.

and also it's worth noting that fern does show love, it's just not really through affectionate gestures and physical touch in general. he's completely bound to acts of service and it's far more likely that he will do something sweet with the intent of vaguely implying that he cares under a mask of indifference rather than, say, going up to his mom and giving her a hug. fern's a fucking bastard like that

on fern and romance...

in one of the new scenes in steps v2, i have fresia tease fern about how they would be a great couple because of how comfortable he looks when he's with jax, and how he even willingly laughs and smiles, but fern argues that he doesn't like jax the same way:

...and it was really interesting to make this stand out while writing this scene, because there are several instances where i've made fern say that he's close with jax, he cares about him, or that he likes being around him:

at this point it was kinda a recurring joke between mage and i to say "and fern still says he doesn't like jax! even though he's like this with him!" but we dug a little into it, and it feels like we accidentally made all the clues point to one thing:

despite his observant nature and how much the reader can tell he obviously cares about jax, fern being unable to recognise his own feelings is because he only knows how to recognise signs of romance when they're physically expressed.

because, if you think about it, you don't really get to see the internal aspects of showing interest in someone when you observe other people. even in media, there's a lot of cases where you're shown physical external signs of attraction/romance, and that's why fern can recognise flirting, or how someone talks to someone they like, or the way jax looks at him like he deserves the world... that's exactly why he can tell that jax is in love with him, because jax wears his heart on his sleeve and is far too easy to read.

but he doesn't know any of the internal tells, which he's starting to show. and of course, fern doesn't express any of these physical signs, because he's a fucker who won't express vulnerability. this isn't really helped at all by the fact that fern doesn't have that many close friends to compare his relationships with, and that the line between the close friendship he has with jax and possible romance is very blurred, especially when he knows that jax is romantically interested in him.

it's only later (which i'll address in a different fic) that fern sorts out his feelings and what they mean, because at that point he's having a crisis over having kissed jax at the end of steps, knowing that it's a romantic gesture, knowing that jax took it as a reciprocation of his feelings, because he still doesn't think he likes jax but every fucking fibre of his body is screaming that he hates the idea of rejecting jax, for a multitude of reasons including that he doesn't want to see jax all broken up, he doesn't want to be the one who hurt him, and also his fear of abandonment is making him think that jax will just straight up cut him out of his life. and the conclusion he gets from that is that he wishes he was in love with jax, while being completely unaware that he's been walking down that path for a while now.

(which is funny, because afterwards, when he's finally sure that what he feels for jax is romantic love, he's down so bad that he's even worse than jax. fern loves and loves and loves and he cares so much but he just needs to recognise what it is.)

(one other thing i love about fern and his journey with romance is that he realises he loves jax when they're sitting together watching tv and he thinks that he likes it. that he could have more of this. that he is genuinely happy to sit next to jax and make snide comments about the shitty plotlines of tv dramas and maybe rest his cheek on jax's shoulder while he does so. jax gives him comfort and a space where he can shed himself of everything weighing on his shoulders while still being his rival and best friend and someone that fern respects with all his heart. it's no wonder that fern loves him so much.)

[natewriteslol]

May I request a reaction(?)/headcanon?

(twst boiz }:‑))

Rook, Sebek, Idia, Jack and Azul reacting to a secretly ripped reader.

Explanation!: Reader wears a lot if oversized stuff, lazy af, tends to skip PE classes and etc. You know acting like they're weak and stuff while in reality they're just lazy. For some reason Vargas saw the potential and the true power in reader, so he decided to add them to the team of [insert a really brutal sport or smt]. Everyone r like: "Y?? They weak!" When it's Readers time to enter the game, they take their hoodie off and omG those muscles. I swear someone fainted right on spot. And someone went 🧎🤰 After Absolutely destroying opponents team, they're just like "ok, I did the thing! Now I want my super duper rare chips".

A/N: This is such a creative premise, thank you for sending it!!

MC goes by they/them pronouns :)

Warnings: none except that MC takes off their shirt

Honestly Y/N was known to be one of the most laziest people on campus, so lazy that it even rivaled Leona! Which there has to be some form of intervention for them because it’s just getting out of hand. And while it benefitted in certain situations, such as annoying Grim to actually start moving his lazy ass around the house, or bullies leaving them alone since Y/N couldn’t bother to muster a reaction.

However they continued to skip P.E classes, and just all around not doing anything. So it came to a surprise that when they were called to Vargas’ office.

“Wait. Y/N where are you going?” Ace questioned, as their friend went with their backpack toward the door.

“I got an interview with Vargas for something. Watch Grim for me please, later” they replied relaxed. And while both Deuce and Ace questioned what their friend was going to be interviewed for, the pair just looked at each other, shrugged and went back to their schoolwork.

Once Y/N got to Vargas’ office, they sat on the chair on the other side of his desk. The student gazed at the sports paraphernalia on the walls, before Vargas started talking.

“Well Y/N, I bet you’re wondering why I called to talk to you?” He asked.

“Yup” the student said, keeping their answers short and concise.

“You tend to skip my classes a great amount, and while both you and Grim are enrolled as one student your lack of participation is dropping your grade,” Vargas said while standing up.

Y/N started to feel bad, sure they didn’t really care to participate but they didn’t want to inconvenience Grim.

“But, I will promise you one thing, I can feel the potential in you Y/N!” the man said excitedly, slightly spooking you. “As a man who is incredible person overflowing with talent,” Vargas started,

‘Wowee, pretty narcissistic’ you thought, but then you started to pay attention again.

“I can see greatness within others, it’s almost like my 6th sense. And I can feel it within you. Now all I ask of you Y/N, is that you participate in the Great Dodging Tournament try outs. And I will raise your grade” The older man offered, Vargas really believed in you.

And that really put a smile on your face, “You know what, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks kiddo!” the man boomed with a great smile on his face while ruffling your head.

I mean, if he’s this excited you can try for him.

~

It was tryouts, Deuce and Ace were a little apprehensive for Y/N to be participating. I mean the Great Dodging Tournament involves one person dodging great magical attacks from the opposite team, in order to get at least one of the balls from the other team. And while you didn’t technically need magical powers to compete, it certainly did help.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up!” It was their turn. Whispers broke out, everyone didn’t understand why they were even allowed to participate.

“Have you even seen them run?” Someone whispered.

The heat was rising despite it being the afternoon, “Damn, I’m getting hot” Y/N says and they start to strip, taking off their oversized shirt.

What came to a great surprise was their physique, incredibly ripped abs. Strong shoulders, back and arms now exposed to everyone.

They did absolutely fantastic for their tryouts, moving across the field with great speed, dodging every single attack and they were able to take 2 out of the 7 balls from the other team. Y/N was excellent, and absolute essential to the Great Dodging Tournament team. Every person was in great shock, they didn’t even break a sweat.

“Alrightie! Now where’s my snacks?” They said, sitting down on the bench.

Rook:

-Oh mon cherie, what have you been hiding from him? ~

-Rook had alot of information on almost everyone at the school, so this definitely came to a shock to him

-A strong advocate for keeping them shirtless all the time

-I mean Y/N lays around all the time, they might as well look good while doing it

-It's just him and Sebek arguing (well it's Sebek who is actually arguing) about what Y/N should do once they come back: Shirt or no shirt?

-He’s very impressed with their strengt and willpower to get that physique

-Very mischievously looks down at Y/N while they complete their audition

-Rook I love you but what are you planning-

Sebek:

-He goes bright red, and starts yelling at Y/N to put a shirt on

-”I-it’s inappropriate for you to be walking around like this! Do you humans not have any shame?!”

-”D-don’t come closer! I don’t want a hug from you!”

-W-what? How could he miss that this mere human held this much power?

-He was incredibly observant (or so he claimed)

-Sebek didn’t know weak, puny humans could possess that type of strength

-If Y/N as a non-magic user were able to obtain this level of power, you were a threat

-Definitely not intimidated by them (he lowkey is intimidated by them)

-While he’s still incredibly opposed to Y/N’s lazy behaviors, he has a newfound respect for them

-Later on he thinks about it more and is marching to their dorm inorder to force them into doing more powerful stuff

-”YOU COULD HAVE GREAT LEVELS OF POWER, JUST WORK YOU LAZY HUMAN!”

-” Naw man, but since you’re up can you get the tv remote? It’s pretty far.”

Idia:

-Of course this happens the one time he goes outside in person!

-Erupts into flames and has a bright ass blush

-Has Ortho calm down his flames with his built in fans

-Idia literally hides inside his hoodie so that no one could notice him

-But I mean it’s kinda hard since at this point he’s looks like a campfire but go off-

-He literally can’t look Y/N in the eyes omg

-Idia tries to talk to them but he just ends up spluttering

-He thought that Y/N had put their shirt back on so he takes his head out of his hoodie and NOPE they still have it off and the cycle of embarrassment repeats

-Idia manages to compliment Y/N, comparing them to a powerful anime character from a show he watched

-The man cannot look at Y/N the same anymore now that he knows what’s under all that baggy clothing

Jack:

-Jack definitely did not see this coming

-Can admit that he is a little flustered (Alot of people teased him since his tail started to wag at the sight of Y/N’s body

-He couldn’t imagine the Y/N he knows doing all of this activity, let alone dodging such powerful magic attacks with this much skill

-They’re a perfect candidate for the team and Jack grows really passionate about you wanting to pursue sports

-Has alot more respect for you

-He will drag Y/N to do a bunch of brutally, active shit with him since the whole “I’m too weak” jig is up

-”Jack pls no”

-”But when you were soaring through the air during Dodging tryouts I heard no complaints. Get your ass up, Y/N”

-While their P.E grade is saved, at what cost?

Azul:

-Azul thought that it was going to be a fun little attempt on Y/N’s part

-Were they joking? I mean he’s never seen them move a muscle for extracurricular activities like sports. Honestly-

-And oh dear oh it’s them shirtless

-Azul is so caught off guard

-He turns away so that Floyd and Jade don’t see his face, but those sneak boys know what’s going on

-”Boss you’re so red!”

-”Ooooh, are you flustered by shrimpy taking off their shirt~”!

-So that’s what you’ve been hiding under your clothing!

-He’s very impressed by your strength, Azul is wondering why you decided to hide it?

-Are you involved in shady business too? Hence why you’re laying low? (Sounds like projection but okay Azul-)

-He’s also thinking about getting you to sign some form of deal so that they can take advantage of your strength (Sorry Y/N)

[teddi-too]

Shadow x Female Reader (NSFW)

CW: NSFW, AFAB Female Reader

Jumping in to writing some original content a bit more, hope you enjoy!

Another long day at the office done, you return home to your empty apartment and flip on the tall floor lamp in the living room.

“Hello, no one, I’m home.” You called to the emptiness. You sigh and remove your shoes and head to your bedroom to change out of your work attire. It was Friday evening and you got paid today so you opted for takeout tonight. Once your favorite meal arrived, you settled onto the couch and dove into your favorite show.

Your Friday nights used to be much more exciting. Evenings out with friends, flirting at the bars, dancing and sweating with handsome strangers. At one point all of your close friends and you were inseparable but one by one they found someone and paired off. Now you were the lone single friend and your Friday nights looked like this.

Sometimes they invited you over for game nights but you were always acutely aware that your presence made the teams uneven and you could only be scorekeeper so many times. So, alone it was.

Dating? You’ve tried it so many times. If one more of your married friends asks you if you’ve tried online dating, you might actually audibly scream. You’ve had no luck clicking with someone. So, you figured, alone might just be your thing whether you like it or not.

Companionship was a thing you could try to numb yourself to through TV dinners and binge watching tv but you had other needs too.

You knew exactly how to pleasure yourself, all your spots to make you writhe and finish. In fact, you had almost become too efficient at it and it just wasn’t the same anymore. You longed for the touch of another. For someone else to be giving you and adding to your own pleasure.

Later, you lay in bed, half heartedly palming your sensitive parts. You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Moving your eyes around your room before settling them onto the dark corner opposite your bed. As you stared into the dense blackness, you almost thought you could see movement.

The more intensely you stared, the more you were certain you could see discernible features in the shadow.

“Hmmm,” you whined as you dipped your fingers between your slick folds. “Maybe that’s what I need. A ghost? Something I can conjure?” You spoke out loud towards the shadow. You let your imagination run wild at the thought. An otherworldly creature appearing solely to pleasure you.

“I am not a ghost. But I think I could be of assistance.” A voice low, like old creaking wood filled the room. Your heart stopped for a moment then beat so intensely you felt white hot. You froze. The room seemed to suddenly feel full as if you were not alone.

“H-hello?” You managed to squeak out in a voice that was even smaller than you intended. Your back felt damp with sweat against your sheets.

The features of your room were obscured as an opaque black sheet moved over your field of vision. You would think you had absolutely lost your mind except that this...shadow...seemed to have weight to it. You could feel it passing over your feet, then your calves, soon your entire body felt like it was being touched, held.

The touch wasn’t frightening somehow. It was the first time in so long that you felt the beautiful weight of another being on top of your body—even if this being wasn’t human or even solid, it was still comforting.

“What are you? Are you real?” You whispered dryly.

A ripple of cool energy passed over your body.

“Can’t you feel that I am real?” The voice rumbled back. You nodded, unsure of if it could see you or just hear you. “I believe humans refer to us as shadow people. Though our real name can not be comprehended by your kind.”

“Shadows are...alive?” You tried to take everything in. You shivered as your slick cooled on your skin as your attention had been turned away to the situation in front of you. A chuckle emerged from the darkness.

“No, no. We are beings separate from shadows and yet we can hide and move through the shadows of your world. Shadows cannot touch you, I can.” A pulse of cool energy passed over your soft stomach and ghosted lightly over your core. Heat immediately pooled in your abdomen.

Despite all the logic your mind was trying to throw at you to tell you this wasn’t real and wasn’t happening, the aching in your body overpowered. You decided to allow yourself to submit to the situation at hand.

“You can really...do things to me? I mean, do you...want to?” You fell over your words as your heartbeat raced in your chest. An insecure thought popped into your head, me? Really?

“Oh yes, I want you badly. I’ve observed you for quite some time.” The voice creaked and sounded fuller than before, almost lustful. You felt your cheeks flush as you thought about all the times you had pleasured yourself never thinking twice about another presence in the room.

“I….want this too…” you shifted your weight to open up your body a bit more, unsure what this shadow might have in mind.

“I can and want to do so many things to you. Who do you want?” It breathed over you.

“W-what?” You breathlessly reply, trying to steady yourself to listen to its question.

“Hmm, have you ever noticed when you look for too long into a shadowy room you can sometimes see a face in the darkness?” You nodded. “Who do you want me to be? I can make myself look like anyone...anything” the deep voice cracked through the static feeling of the air. You thought just for a moment, a few faces from your past flashed through your mind.

“No one.” You finally answered. The shadow swirled over you, a concentrated feeling cupping your face almost like caring hands reaching to support you.

“No one?” The shadow repeated back. You sighed.

“There’ll be no one in the morning, so there should be no one now.” You hoped you had hidden the tired sadness in your voice. The energy over your body shuddered and receded slightly. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes. “Please, I-“ you moved your hands down your torso, tracing your soft skin, reaching towards your sensitive spot that was begging for the pressure to return.

You halted your movement when a tendril of energy pressed across your lips. The sensation was warm and somehow wet like the tongue of a lover asking for entrance. Your mouth fell open without thought.

“I wish you could understand how beautiful you are.” The voice rumbled and the shadow engulfed your mouth in a kiss. That’s the only way you could describe it. No discernible mouth or tongue or chin, just darkness but you could feel it all. You returned the kiss with equal passion and the warmth that was pooling in your core previously started to unravel you again.

As you continued your deep passionate kiss, a dreamy light pressure settled on your breasts, making your nipples harden and your back arch just slightly. You let out a soft moan assuring the shadow that it was touching you perfectly. As the shadow massaged your breasts, teasing and pulling your nipples, you slowly rolled your hips hoping to feel more pressure down there.

You were so wet the movement of your hips caused a cool drop of slick to rub on to your inner thigh. You clenched your thighs together, squeezing your sensitive area and giving you some much needed relief. You broke the kiss, gasping for air and reached out into the darkness. Your hands were enveloped in a now familiar cool, tingling pressure.

“I need you...there-uuungh” your plea was interrupted by your own whine of pleasure as the “tongue” you felt earlier on your lips began to glide over your slit. You shook out the disruptive thoughts in your head that were trying to figure out how the hell something incorporeal could give you this intense physical pleasure and tried to let yourself just enjoy what was happening.

The shadowy tendril pressed into your folds and moved upwards from your entrance to your pearl achingly slow. It repeated the movement, wide, equal pressure a few more times before settling over your most sensitive spot. The tendril moved around the bundle of nerves with such incredible deftness, you could already feel an orgasm building. You whined and moved your hips simultaneously wanting more and not knowing how much more you could handle.

Without losing any pressure on your bud, you felt something hard resting against your entrance. Energy danced along your entire body, it was almost as if the shadow was as excited for this part as you were. What felt nearly like a hand grazed longingly across your cheek, as if it sought permission for this next development.

You nodded your head wildly and let out a loud moan. You were already starting to feel over stimulated between the “hands” still teasing your breasts and the “tongue” on your clit. You were fairly certain all it would take is the shadow pushing into your entrance to make you come. Still, you needed it. Needed it inside you. Your dripping entrance needed to be filled and full like every other part of you felt just now.

The shadow seemed to hesitate, seated at your entrance. You pushed your hips down, pushing the shadow just barely inside you, ghosting your inner walls. Your jaw tightened as you tried to relax your body. The shadow finally pushed into you and it created a sensation that was hard to describe. It felt like a cock pushing into you except that the size seemed to change when it was inside you. It moved in to you and felt big at your entrance but not painfully so. Once inside of you, it seemed to grow to fill you perfectly, like it was made to fit inside of you and only you.

The shadow pressed inside of you slowly and finally stopped. You instinctively pushed your thighs out on either side of you to open yourself up as much as possible. The feeling inside you was perfect though you did feel a bit exposed. You missed feeling the weight of someone’s body pressed firmly against your pelvis.

“Shadow…I want to feel you against me….is that...can you?” You tripped over your words. Shadow was giving you every sensation you could dream of but you still ached for the feeling of another body against you. You felt the pressure that was playing at your breast dissipate and a feeling of fullness, of weight settled against your hips. Suddenly the immense “cock” within you felt as if it were connected to a body.

“Like this?” The shadow asked, you swear the voice sounded bashful. A breathy moan was all you could manage as you shifted your hips to feel the weight against you once more. With that, shadow began to move its “hips” in and out of you. The size of the appendage changed to keep you stunningly full all the time while still giving you the sensations of movement you needed.

Your orgasm was building again and you knew you couldn't stave it off and prolong these sensations any longer if you tried. Every nerve ending in your body was screaming with pleasure and your body was heating up white hot. Shadow snapped its hips into you deeply once again and a scream tore through your throat. Your orgasm crashed against you, your walls spasming, your back lifting off the bed.

Shadow never stopped its movements as it did everything it could to your body to help you ride the sensation out as long as possible. As you were beginning to catch your breath, you ground your hips down on to the mass inside you hoping to return the wonderful sensation you’d been given, unsure if the shadow could even experience something like an orgasm.

The energy all over and in your body flickered and receded for a flash before expanding even larger and making your body tingle all over. It felt electric and strong and you forgot to breath for a moment as you let the static wash over your body.

Then the feeling receded completely and you were left lying on the bed alone, covered in your sweat and slick, panting. It would maybe feel lonely on a different night but you felt so completely fulfilled you couldn’t help but smile.

“Does that mean it was good for you, too?” You called out to the empty room. Movement caught the corner of your eye and you stared into a corner of your room where the darkness looked particularly dense. A low, gravely chuckle filled the room and moved over your skin.

“You know, that was the first time I-with a human...I mean, I could do better next time.” The voice responded. You pushed yourself up to sit on the bed.

“Better than that?” You asked.

“Oh yes.” Your core tightened just at the thought. It was the first time in so long that you didn’t feel lonely. In fact, you felt excited about the possibilities your connection with this shadow presented.

“You’ll come back again?” You asked with a tinge of hopeful uncertainty in your voice. The room darkened, filling up with the intense shadow.

“As often as you’ll have me, beautiful human.”

[andrewrenaissance]

first things first, let’s not dig too deep and try to be too realistic about this, it’s a cute and fun idea ALSO this shit can very easily be assigned to Peter because... i don’t know... reasons

andrew absolutely does have the means to fly business class BUT for whatever reason he ends up flying economy this once, and it is as awful as we can all imagine right? babies are screaming, some guy is already throwing up and the flight attendant asks him to switch to some other seat for whatever reason, which he would not mind, he has headphones and a book, he has a bunch of episodes of the tv show he’s currently watching saved in his ipad, it doesn’t really matter to him where he sits

as annoying as it is, he manages to plough his way through the boarding passengers to his newly assigned seat which happens to be on the other side of the plane, he is very much certain that one of the levels of hell looks like this because there is only so many pushes into his back and nudges into his ribs that he can take after having waited for this plane for hours

he believes to have reached his destination, puts his things away and gets comfortable on his seat, just when an elderly lady speaking very fast and in a language that is completely unknown to him approaches him, he does not speak her language, but numbers are luckily consistent in their numeric form and in the moment she starts waving her boarding pass in front of his face he realizes what’s the problem

one desperate look around, hoping to see a flash of a fly attendant somewhere to get this issue sorted, he is certain that this is the seat he was sent to but the lady does not have the patience for any of that and so he retreats

his eyes land on a presumably empty spot nearby, well empty as it can be with the young woman who seems to be getting comfortable on this neighbouring seat of hers, her face is filled with joy and he understands why, two sears for yourself does feel like a jackpot in here

and then he ruins it, the glee fades away and he cannot even feel offended when she just huffs at his apologies and explanations, after all, it has been a long day for all of them

the plane takes off and while up in the air he catches her stealing looks at his screen, it’s the soft and quiet chuckle at one of the scenes that gives it away, his own amusement is bubbling in his chest but he contains in order to not disturb the drowsy passengers around them

he glances at her with a smile on his lips, a friendly expression she turns away from, probably feeling too embarrassed by being caught in the act but once he tilts the screen some more, ensuring that she has a good enough view from her spot, she shifts a bit closer 

two episodes later her sleepy head has unwillingly dropped to his shoulder and her hair are tickling him on his neck but he doesn’t have the cruelty in him to move her but rather closes his eyes as well and allows the exhaustion of the day to take over

[kaidenya]

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

[causeiwanttoandican]

'What you have done sir is quite frankly despicable': An open letter to Prince Harry

Sir, I am an ordinary citizen of the United Kingdom, a loyal and patriotic subject of Her Majesty the Queen of England.

By Christopher Smithers PUBLISHED: 17:00, Mon, Jul 26, 2021 | UPDATED: 18:11, Mon, Jul 26, 2021

Prince Harry popularity polls 'plummeting' says commentator

In the circumstances, it is entirely appropriate, with the utmost respect to you, that your attention is not only once again drawn to the unwelcome recent sequence of events largely precipitated by you and your wife, but also to the ensuing fallout that this has caused. Both you and your wife have opted to very publicly level wholly unsubstantiated accusations of racism, indifference and emotional trauma at thus far unnamed members of the Royal Family, your family, Sir.

Why you both feel the need to engage the media that you profess to loathe in this vendetta I cannot understand, nor can many millions of our fellow countrymen.

The British public at large were absolutely thrilled that you had found someone with whom you clearly share such a unique bond. Your future wife was welcomed with open arms, and on the day of your wedding you had people thronged together lining the streets of Windsor to show their joy at your happiness on your special day.

The weather was similarly glorious to add to the genuine mood of celebration for you and your wife.

In the ensuing years since that wonderful day at St Georges Chapel your popularity in this country has plummeted with the onset of widespread anger and disgust, increasing in intensity each time you decide to air your dirty laundry in public.

This is sadly an inescapable fact and one in which I personally take absolutely no pleasure in pointing out, along with many millions of people in both

this country and the United States.

You were born into a unique and enigmatic family, who have provided a haven and rallying point for the people of this country for centuries.

Your family is an incredibly significant ingredient in the glue that binds us all together, and for you to unilaterally attack and defame their integrity is quite frankly despicable.

Many millions of people have suffered emotional trauma in some or other way throughout the world, so this is not unique to you. This does not of course make the loss of your mother in any way insignificant or indeed less tragic. The pain and sense of loss that both you and your brother, the Duke of Cambridge, have endured remains raw, and was also deeply felt by millions of others the length and breadth of this country. This was proven beyond any doubt with only a glance at the crowds in London on that day of the memorial for your mother at the Abbey.

In your statement preceding your departure from frontline Royal duties you solemnly pledged to always uphold the values of the monarchy. Well, Sir, you have a mighty strange way of showing it!

How does your professed loyalty to the Crown square with your present outbursts of spite and anger?

Does your Grandmother deserve any of this? Does the memory of your late Grandfather warrant being dragged through the mud simply as a selfish act of misguided catharsis on your part?

I certainly do not believe so, and many millions of people agree with me.

You oftentimes make no secret of your disdain and loathing of the press, who you accuse of a constant imposition into your “private” life.

Yes, the press is a part of the everyday existence of public figures, and you are certainly no exception to this, but it goes with the turf.

The added dimension in your case, however, is that the only acceptable press coverage when it comes to you and your wife is only that which fits the narrative put out by your spin doctors in LaLa land.

The sad truth of the matter is that you are enraged you couldn’t have it both ways.

You couldn’t enjoy the kudos that you seem to believe is your right along with cashing in on your status as both you and your wife would have wished.

As I am sure your Grandmother, your Father and your Brother made clear to you at what has been dubbed the “Sandringham Summit” you cannot have your cake and eat it.

You are either in or you are out, the best of both worlds is just not an option.

Both you and your wife have the unfortunate habit of trying to portray yourselves as victims, when in fact nothing could be further from the truth.

Your public outbursts seeking sympathy on the back of launching entirely misguided attacks on your family looks very much like a cynical publicity stunt based it seems on a litany of inaccuracies.

Your flirtation with wokery is likewise an entirely self-serving exercise in the promotion of “Brand Sussex”, loaded with gross hypocrisy in preaching to the world at large.

Your PR team and other strategic media embedded mouthpieces display breath-taking ignorance of our heritage and culture, a fact that you ought to know full well.

You have given up everything you have known up to this point in seeking a new life in the United States, although you were very definitely badly advised in making recent comments about the US Constitution first amendment, about which you clearly know nothing, and which was in fact an insult to your hosts.

You’re a guest in that country and you have no right to make remarks like that especially in view of your family background which maintains a totally apolitical viewpoint.

I could elaborate further on the grossly ill-advised course you have opted to pursue, but until such time as a good hard dose of reality sets in then there seems little point.

As disgusted as I am that I witness a Prince of the Realm from my country disparaging his family in such a disgraceful way, I nonetheless hope and pray that you find genuine peace and happiness one day.

I sincerely hope that you can overcome the demons of your emotional trauma and anger in finding a comfortable balance in your life.

Perhaps you should open your eyes wider, open your mind too and look a little deeper. You might be surprised at what you discover. But just stop with the nonsense of attacking your family.

One last point you might be well advised to take on board, Sir. You and your wife would be nothing and nobody were it not for the fact that you are the grandson of the Queen of England, the son, brother and uncle of future Kings of England.

Self-destruction doesn’t become you, so drop the hard done by rubbish and get a grip. You might just find it eventually pays off in positive ways that you least expected.

You have regrettably allowed yourself to blur the lines between celebrity and royalty, for which there is no excuse for you or even your wife for that matter.

[mallowstep]

(nature; nurture)

You know the truth of yourself in pieces.

* * *

You are three, sitting on your mother's lap.

"And you understand this is a life-long commitment?"

"Yes," she says.

"And Mothkit, Frogkit, and Hawkkit, do you want Feathertail to be your mother?"

"She is our mama," Hawkkit says, and the woman laughs.

"That settles it, then."

* * *

Growing up is not a balloon inflating, the way you once pictured it. It is a crab moulting over and over again, exposing its softest parts, in hopes it survives.

* * *

You are the first to go to kindergarten. Only by a few minutes, but still. That feels like it counts for something.

You kiss your mother's cheek, and then drop your bag. A man crouches down beside you. "And what's your name?"

"Mothkit!" you say, and he shows you where to put your bag. You glance back at your mother as you venture deeper into the classroom. She wipes a few tears from her eyes.

* * *

Unlike a crab, you cannot reabsorb what you lose. Your teeth are collected in a box, exchanged for a few quarters, occasionally a dollar. Your hair is swept up and thrown away. You go shopping, and now there are two sections you have to examine. One for you, one for your brothers.

* * *

Stormheart picks you up for school, and no one is waiting in the passenger seat. You all climb in, and you end up stuck in the middle.

"Where's Mama?" you ask.

"She's at home," Stormheart says. He glances back at you for a second, smiling. "She's just having a bad day."

You kick off your shoes at the door when you get home, dropping your bag on the kitchen table. Your brothers are slower, but you peek through the crack in her door before Stormheart catches up with you.

She's asleep, not facing you. Mistyfoot is on the other side of the bed, reading a book.

Stormheart scoops you up. "Come on, bug," he whispers. "Let's go play outside."

* * *

But your soft parts stay the same, just growing between each exchange. You ask her about your father many times, and her answers drift, circling around a truth you want her to finish. You slip into her room after having a nightmare, and find her sobbing. You make a family tree, and stare frustrated at the missing names.

* * *

You follow her out to the garden. Frogpaw spends more time out here than you do, but you're bored, and your mother is here, digging tiny troughs into the earth.

You cross your legs on the grass beside her. She smiles at you. "Are you going to stay out here?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want a hat?"

"No." The sun is warm, and you lean down, your elbows pressing into the dirt. "What are you planting?"

"Poppies," she says. "Do you want to help?"

You shake your head. Feathertail takes a handful of sandy dirt, and pours the bag of seeds onto it.

"Mama?" you ask, and she lifts her brow. "What's assault?"

Feathertail pauses what she's doing, and looks questioningly at you. "Where'd you hear that?"

"It was on a TV show." You fidget with blades of grass. "I wasn't really watching."

Feathertail sighs. "It's -- when you hurt someone," she says. "When you attack them."

* * *

But you are not a crab. You are a girl, and you are changing. Your father sends you a letter and asks you if you're a help to your mother. You grapple with the undeniable proof he's in prison, like she explained a year or two ago. You shoot up past your brothers over the summer, and have to buy new clothes. A new garment comes with it. Feathertail cleans a few things out of a room you can't think of as hers, and it becomes yours. Your soft parts move, find new places in need of protection.

* * *

Sometimes, you want to explain everything to Leafpaw, all in one breath. You want to say, My mother didn't give birth to me, but I know who did, and I was not wanted, except that I was, and my father believes I am capable of nothing, and my period has started, and I don't know what that means, and I think you are beautiful.

You don't say any of that.

* * *

But you are not a crab, so you find traces of your past exoskeletons, the ones that didn't fit. A shirt you wore five years ago. A diary you can barely understand. A folded piece of paper you do not open. They don't make sense with who you are, and yet, they are who you were.

* * *

Shadepelt teaches you how to use make up. Feathertail and Mistyfoot don't wear any, but she does, and she makes it look easy and fun and flawless.

It's much harder when you have to do it.

Hawkpaw and Stonefur arrive home when you are scrubbing it off in the bathroom downstairs. You don't come down here very often, and it is strange to think that this space is a part of your home.

When your face is clean, you trudge upstairs. The air is tense, Hawkpaw and Frogpaw staring across the kitchen table at each other, Feathertail watching them.

"I'm -- allowed to know," Hawkpaw says.

"What do you want to know?" Frogpaw says. "We know everything we need to."

"Maybe you do," Hawkpaw says.

You glance at Feathertail. Her back is to you.

You slide unnoticed into your room, and pull out the stack of letters from your father. You read them all once, exactly, and then add them to the stack you keep in your bottom desk drawer. There's no point in rereading them.

But you run your thumb over them, listening to the way the old, dried paper crinkles.

Frogpaw is asking the wrong question. It's why Hawkpaw wants to know that matters.

* * *

Freshman year draws to a close, and you think you are in your final moult. Leafpaw falls asleep on your shoulder on the way home from a field trip, and you hold hands as you wait to be picked up. You haven't outgrown any clothes in months, and your brothers are now taller than you. You look in the mirror, and realize this will always be the face that looks back at you.

* * *

There is always talk. You try to ignore the worst of it,

("Well, Hawkpaw is a creep," and, "I heard their mother doesn't love them," and, "Bet you can't wait to see your daddy,")

but that's easier said then done.

Leafpaw squeezes your hand. "They don't know what they're talking about," she says.

But they do. That's the problem. They're wrong, but they know what they're talking about.

A junior Mothpaw doesn't know sits beside her at lunch, in Leafpaw's space.

"You should move," Squirrelpaw says.

"No one's sitting here."

"Someone will be."

True to form, as soon as Leafpaw bursts into the cafeteria, she forces herself between Mothpaw and the junior.

The junior rolls her eyes. "I was wondering," she begins, "how you feel about the death penalty."

* * *

There are still old memories you revisit. Feathertail is hospitalized for the third time you can remember, and you log your hours for drivers' ed as you practice making the trip back and forth.

* * *

On Halloween, you take the bucket of candy Feathertail gave the three of you to share and sit on the back porch. Frogpaw and Hawkpaw keep stuffing their faces long after you've finished, and you feel like you're witnessing something obscene.

"I did some math," Frogpaw says. "We were born a month early." He throws a candy bar up, and it lands on his stomach. "Means we were conceived around New Years."

He throws the bar up again, and this time it lands in his hands.

"You ever want to throw a party? Just one. Make a bunch of food for dinner and sit around the table and call all the different dishes courses?"

"What the hell are you saying?" Hawkpaw asks.

"I think i'm just saying something," Frogpaw says. "I think I'm just hoping if I say enough things, I'll find the right thing to say.

* * *

You get your license. It says your name on the card, Mothpaw, daughter of Feathertail, and ask for permission to drive the car.

You don't have a plan for where you're going, and you end up in front of a cathedral.

* * *

The stress of junior year threatens to break you. College applications loom, your classes grow teeth, and you start to bicker with Leafpaw over petty things.

You read over the essay requirement for colleges, and think about what kind of essay you could write. Because there's really only one story worth telling, and it feels wrong, to type out all of your family to a stranger.

It makes you glad you started early. "My mother was fourteen when we were born," you write, and then scratch out. "My father is alive. We know who the other is. I've never met him," you write, and then erase. "I don't know who I am," you write, and then you keep writing.

* * *

At some point, you decide you don't believe. But. You keep coming back. There is something reassuring in routine. Your family doesn't ask where you are going, and you don't volunteer it. Sunday morning. There's some kind of peace, in having the time to sit and think and be.

* * *

"I think I've messed everything up," Leafpaw says. "I've gone about this all the wrong way, and now, everything is terrible, and this is all my fault, Mothpaw, I'm sorry-"

You kiss her, and then lean your forehead against hers. "We're both at fault," you say. "Besides. Maybe the honeymoon is over. We've got lives to attend."

And Leafpaw, inextricably, is part of that life. You can think of the essays you would've written about her. How her hair looks brown until it catches the sun, and then it shines like red glass. How she stomps when she is excited. How she links arms with you and says you're going shopping until you find your family Christmas gifts.

* * *

They invite you to a class, but it feels strange, knowing you don't believe. How do you say, I am here, and I am not, and I don't think you'd really want me.

You don't. You kneel down and offer a prayer to a god you don't believe in. Maybe it will catch.

* * *

Feathertail listens to you practice your speech.

"I'm so proud of you," she says. "You know that, right?"

You nod. She tells you this often, but something about her tone makes your throat catch. You've outgrown the days when Feathertail's arms could surround you, but even so, you start to cry when she hugs you.

"I love you," you say.

"I love you too," she says. She settles back onto the couch, wrapping her hands around a mug of tea.

This is the truth of who you are. This is what you will always fail to capture. How can you describe how the light streams inside at an angle that you've always known, one that makes the dust swirl through it? How can you describe the books on the coffee table, how each book has been read and loved, not merely thrown there for decoration? How can you describe yourself in any way but being there?

* * *

You meet your father's eyes. You know them. You have seen them in the mirror.

* * *

You hold your diploma in one hand, stopping for a photo. You were the first to enter kindergarten, you were the last to leave high school.

The excited chatter in the air is a reminder of what this day is. You have all bought your final yearbooks, signed names and numbers you won't remember in a few months. You're in it a few times -- Feathertail and Leafpaw delighted in hunting for your every appearance -- and you think, maybe it is okay if you are pieces.

There is something whole and solid that is made of them.

[jerseydeanne]

'What you have done sir is quite frankly despicable': An open letter to Prince Harry

In the circumstances, it is entirely appropriate, with the utmost respect to you, that your attention is not only once again drawn to the unwelcome recent sequence of events largely precipitated by you and your wife, but also to the ensuing fallout that this has caused. Both you and your wife have opted to very publicly level wholly unsubstantiated accusations of racism, indifference and emotional trauma at thus far unnamed members of the Royal Family, your family, Sir.

Why you both feel the need to engage the media that you profess to loathe in this vendetta I cannot understand, nor can many millions of our fellow countrymen.

The British public at large were absolutely thrilled that you had found someone with whom you clearly share such a unique bond. Your future wife was welcomed with open arms, and on the day of your wedding you had people thronged together lining the streets of Windsor to show their joy at your happiness on your special day.

The weather was similarly glorious to add to the genuine mood of celebration for you and your wife.

In the ensuing years since that wonderful day at St Georges Chapel your popularity in this country has plummeted with the onset of widespread anger and disgust, increasing in intensity each time you decide to air your dirty laundry in public.

This is sadly an inescapable fact and one in which I personally take absolutely no pleasure in pointing out, along with many millions of people in both this country and the United States.

You were born into a unique and enigmatic family, who have provided a haven and rallying point for the people of this country for centuries.

Your family is an incredibly significant ingredient in the glue that binds us all together, and for you to unilaterally attack and defame their integrity is quite frankly despicable.

Many millions of people have suffered emotional trauma in some or other way throughout the world, so this is not unique to you. This does not of course make the loss of your mother in any way insignificant or indeed less tragic. The pain and sense of loss that both you and your brother, the Duke of Cambridge, have endured remains raw, and was also deeply felt by millions of others the length and breadth of this country. This was proven beyond any doubt with only a glance at the crowds in London on that day of the memorial for your mother at the Abbey.

In your statement preceding your departure from frontline Royal duties you solemnly pledged to always uphold the values of the monarchy. Well, Sir, you have a mighty strange way of showing it!

How does your professed loyalty to the Crown square with your present outbursts of spite and anger?

Does your Grandmother deserve any of this? Does the memory of your late Grandfather warrant being dragged through the mud simply as a selfish act of misguided catharsis on your part?

I certainly do not believe so, and many millions of people agree with me.

You oftentimes make no secret of your disdain and loathing of the press, who you accuse of a constant imposition into your “private” life.

Yes, the press is a part of the everyday existence of public figures, and you are certainly no exception to this, but it goes with the turf.

The added dimension in your case, however, is that the only acceptable press coverage when it comes to you and your wife is only that which fits the narrative put out by your spin doctors in LaLa land.

The sad truth of the matter is that you are enraged you couldn’t have it both ways.

You couldn’t enjoy the kudos that you seem to believe is your right along with cashing in on your status as both you and your wife would have wished.

As I am sure your Grandmother, your Father and your Brother made clear to you at what has been dubbed the “Sandringham Summit” you cannot have your cake and eat it.

You are either in or you are out, the best of both worlds is just not an option.

Both you and your wife have the unfortunate habit of trying to portray yourselves as victims, when in fact nothing could be further from the truth.

Your public outbursts seeking sympathy on the back of launching entirely misguided attacks on your family looks very much like a cynical publicity stunt based it seems on a litany of inaccuracies.

Your flirtation with wokery is likewise an entirely self-serving exercise in the promotion of “Brand Sussex”, loaded with gross hypocrisy in preaching to the world at large.

Your PR team and other strategic media embedded mouthpieces display breath-taking ignorance of our heritage and culture, a fact that you ought to know full well.

You have regrettably allowed yourself to blur the lines between celebrity and royalty, for which there is no excuse for you or even your wife for that matter.

You have given up everything you have known up to this point in seeking a new life in the United States, although you were very definitely badly advised in making recent comments about the US Constitution first amendment, about which you clearly know nothing, and which was in fact an insult to your hosts.

You’re a guest in that country and you have no right to make remarks like that especially in view of your family background which maintains a totally apolitical viewpoint.

I could elaborate further on the grossly ill-advised course you have opted to pursue, but until such time as a good hard dose of reality sets in then there seems little point.

As disgusted as I am that I witness a Prince of the Realm from my country disparaging his family in such a disgraceful way, I nonetheless hope and pray that you find genuine peace and happiness one day.

I sincerely hope that you can overcome the demons of your emotional trauma and anger in finding a comfortable balance in your life.

Perhaps you should open your eyes wider, open your mind too and look a little deeper. You might be surprised at what you discover. But just stop with the nonsense of attacking your family.

One last point you might be well advised to take on board, Sir. You and your wife would be nothing and nobody were it not for the fact that you are the grandson of the Queen of England, the son, brother and uncle of future Kings of England.

Self-destruction doesn’t become you, so drop the hard done by rubbish and get a grip. You might just find it eventually pays off in positive ways that you least expected.

source: https://www.express.co.uk/comment/expresscomment/1442921/royal-news-Prince-Harry-oprah-interview-meghan-markle-apple-tv-show-the-me-you-can-t-see

[wrenhyperfixates]

Anything

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @mlqcikemenmc​

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.

“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”

“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”

“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.

After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.

“So...” you began.

“So?”

“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”

“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”

“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”

You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.

“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”

“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”

“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.

Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.

“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.

“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”

After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.

“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”

“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.

“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”

You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.

“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”

You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”

“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”

You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.

“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”

“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.

As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.

After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.

“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.

“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”

“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.

As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.

“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”

“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”

“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.

“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”

You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.